Chapter 6
“Excuse me,” I say in my calmest voice. “Can I get—”
“Just one second,” Sarah says, smiling over Lucky’s shoulder.
My jaw clenches as I smile back. “It’s just that there are a lot of people waiting, and—”
The man in front of me turns. He is one of the most attractive men I’ve ever seen, second only to Sterling. Rye-whiskey eyes, five-o’clock shadow, and a wicked smile. He’s dressed for comfort. Either he rolled out of someone’s bed or he’s ready to roll into one.
I stand taller, fighting the urge to hunch and hide my chest. It’s a beacon of attention—wanted or not.
And I do want it.
He speaks over his shoulder, gaze never leaving mine, his eyes glimmering with bright amusement. “It’s all right, Sarah. I’ll let you get back to work. Just wanted to come and say hey.”
As he pushes off the counter, I fill the empty space, but he stays close, and now all I can think about is his body heat and the scent of leather and smoke.
It’s intoxicating—rebellious and decadent in the way all bad decisions are—and I need to get my coffee before I do something embarrassing, like fall into his arms.
“A caramel latte and a fresh bacon and cheese sandwich to go.”
A hand shoots out when I go for my wallet. Lucky holds a crisp bill out across the counter. It’s a hundred. A tactic to impress me? Or does he just have enough money to not care?
“Let me,” he says. “An apology for holding you up.”
I push it away. “I can pay for myself.”
“I’m sure you can.” He nods to Sarah. “Make it two.”
“Sure thing.” Sarah smiles, taking his money.
I step aside to wait, and Lucky comes with me.
There are fine lines at the corners of his eyes that crinkle when he smiles. I suspect he never stops.
“Thank you,” I say.
You can take the girl off the farm, but the manners stick like glue.
“Having a bad day?”
“Only when someone thinks the morning rush is the perfect time to flirt,” I counter. “News flash: not every person you meet thinks you’re as amazing as you obviously do.”
He’s close. Temptingly so. If my body is a compass, he’s north, pulling my attention, begging me to turn my head. A shiver runs through me.
I can’t stop myself. I look over to find him watching me, his eyes shining. Why is it always the hot ones who are the most trouble?
“I don’t always,” he says, as if that’s meant to mean something to me.
“Excuse me?”
“Flirt. Only when I meet someone interesting.”
Did that really work for him?
“You could have chosen a better time to do it. I’m pretty sure she’ll be here all day.”
He looks confused, tiny lines collecting between his brows before they climb sky high. “Wait, Sarah? She’s my cousin.”
Oh.
“But she doesn’t have an accent,” I blurt.
He steps toward me as someone passes behind him, and he doesn’t move back after they’re gone. My hand brushes his sweater. It's so damn soft, I could cry. “Mum moved to Manchester when she met my dad, but the rest of the fam lives over here.”
His voice is husky and rich and has no right to sound as good as it does. No right at all. Perspiration starts to collect at my temples, the back of my neck. I pull on the sleeves of my coat and take a deep breath. How long does a coffee and sandwich take?
“Is that why you’re named after a dog?”
His surprise gives way to a boisterous laugh, as free and easy as the rest of him, and my traitorous lips curl in response. A few heads turn in our direction.
“It’s a nickname. Name’s Lachlan.” He holds his hand out, thick black ink curling over his skin. “But my friends call me Lucky.”
This is a grown man. A man who’s older and more experienced than me. It should intimidate me. God knows there are enough guys in this city who have tried.
But all it makes me want to do is grind my boot into the ground and be the one to put him on his knees.
I’d bet he wouldn’t even mind.
It’s such a horrible, no-good, perfect approximation of all the things that get me going. I can practically feel Alice nudging me to get closer.
Though I make no move to shake his hand, Lucky isn’t deterred. “Are you always this chatty in the mornings?”
I square my shoulders and look up at him.
Go on, I hear Alice saying. You’re hot and single. What have you got to lose?
“Sometimes. On a really good morning, my mouth is preoccupied.” I flush as I say it. I love sex—I miss it—but saying it out loud? That’s a different story. It’s the kind of thing that can make people uncomfortable.
But from the way Lucky’s gaze darkens and zeroes in on my lips, he’s nowhere near uncomfortable. Discomfort might as well be on the other side of the moon for how far away it is. Something electric tingles down my spine.
He slips a hand into his pocket and slowly, deliberately lifts his gaze to meet mine. Completely at ease and definitely interested.
“Whoever’s sharing your bed had better be giving as good as they’re getting.”
A kid clutching his backpack squeezes in behind me, pushing me closer to Lucky. His elbow brushes against my nipple, which jumps at his touch.
It’s definitely time to go.
Thankfully, as he opens his mouth to say more, the barista calls out our orders.
* * *
Finally.
take your drink (go to 7)
go back (go to 2)