Chapter 5
“Here you go, Doll. One gin and tonic.” I grab the glass from the bartender and place it in Dolly’s free hand just before I help her take a seat on one of the comfortable patio chairs.
“Oh thank you.” She brushes me off as I grab her a napkin and place it on the table in front of her.
“Anything for you.”
She offers me a smile and cocks her head to the side.
“Go have fun,” she says in a sweet, low tone.
Dolly is one of those women who has made taking care of other people her life’s work. She doesn’t have children, and since I’ve known her has put all her time, energy, and good spirits into helping kids downtown. She’s one of the best people I’ve met since living here.
When I turn back to the bartender, I see he’s placed the coffees I ordered on the bar top. I nod in his direction and place a tip in his jar before grabbing the drinks and walking back inside.
My eyes land on Demi immediately. Goddamn, she’s pretty.
How anyone fucked up big enough to lose her is beyond my understanding.
Aside from being the most beautiful woman I know, she’s got this grit about her.
This relentlessness and strength I’ve always admired.
She’s sure of herself and what she’s capable of.
It’s also always turned me on that she seems about 30 percent annoyed with everything I say.
I hang back a second, watching as she glances around before taking a seat on a barstool that just opened up at the kitchen island.
There are finger foods in front of her, and she doesn’t shy away from grabbing a bit of everything and placing it on a plate in front of her.
She bites into the quiche, and I notice the smallest tilt of her head as she leans it back before grabbing two more, her shoulders doing a subtle wiggle as she chews.
So fucking cute.
I make my way toward her, placing the coffee down.
“Hang on one more second,” I say.
Abby told me she has an assortment of milk, creamer, and sweeteners so I grab everything I can find and bring it over to the small free space left in front of Demi.
“I know it isn’t the type of coffee you usually drink.”
Her eyes narrow at me in question. And honestly, I’m surprised she’s surprised I know she usually likes her coffee hot.
She doesn’t say anything, just keeps her eyes on me.
“So…” I sigh. “Iced coffee. How do you like it?”
She finally smirks. “Are you going to play barista?”
“Play? I worked in a coffee shop for a bit in college. I’m a seasoned professional.”
Her lips curl up and it’s so close to a smile I can nearly taste it. I’d do anything to see her dimples right now.
Her eyes flit between the beverages in front of us. And everything in me is just hoping I can hang out with her for as long as she’ll let me tonight.
“Why two?” she asks, gesturing to both drinks.
“Well, I got myself one.”
“Aren’t you drinking a beer? I swear you had one in front of you when I walked up to you earlier.”
“You mean when our eyes locked across the room? I remember the moment well. But I don’t drink much during the season. One, maybe two, if I’m out. Tonight I had one, and now I’m switching to have coffee with you.”
Her teeth pull on her bottom lip, and I get a glimpse of the whites of them as she parts her lips.
“Okay.” She inhales and then reaches down to her plate, picking up another piece of quiche. “Almond milk.” She takes a bite and moves the carton of milk closer to me. “And this,” she says after finishing her bite and points to the white mocha syrup on the counter.
“Iced coffee, splash of almond milk with white mocha syrup. Easy.” I stare at the thick wave of hair over her shoulder as I’m grabbing what I need.
She settles into the chair and sits up a little straighter, both elbows resting on the white marble. “So, do you just order drinks for any woman you talk to?”
I crack a smile at that comment, and I can’t seem to wipe it away as I look at her. Her brown, nearly black eyes narrow in my direction as she stares at me confidently, very aware of how much I’m enjoying this moment.
“Jealous, Dem?”
Her head shakes slowly as she dips her chin and replies. “Oh, please.”
She turns to hide her face, but there it is. Without effort. Without prompting.
She smiles.
And it’s something else. She’s something else. Just being around her makes me want to freeze time so I can stay in these moments with her for as long as possible.
Her head moves back and forth as she pulls her lips in.
“I love when you do that.” My voice is raspy as I speak.
“Do what?”
My head dips down as I smile to myself, opening the drawer where the spoons are, and I grab two, placing one in her coffee and another in mine.
“Smile like that,” I say, looking directly at her.
“Your face…it just—it lights up. I don’t know, Dem.
It’s literally one of my favorite things.
” The admission falls so simply from my lips, but it’s just skimming the surface of everything I want to say to her.
I can’t properly explain right now how crazy I am about everything when it comes to her.
The two of us hold eye contact for what feels like an eternity, neither bothering to take a sip of the drinks or make any movements. Looking at her, I can see there are a million things running through her mind. Her eyes are full of walls, boundaries, and things she wants to keep to herself.
I’ve never asked about her divorce from Brandon.
I never felt it was my business. When some things came out last year, I had many thoughts running through my mind about what I’d do if I ever saw him out.
The questions I’d want to ask him. The pain I’d like to inflict on him.
But unless Demi ever opens the door and wants to discuss it, it’s off the table as far as I’m concerned.
In the space between us, Summer reaches for the milk carton. “I love your makeup, Demi.”
Demi quickly clears her throat as she pivots her attention to Summer. “Oh, thank you. I’m not very good at it. Thank god for online tutorials.” She tips her coffee toward Summer, but her eyes flick back to me.
“Anyone who can draw on a cat eye deserves a standing ovation.” Summer pours the milk into three small cups before adding chocolate syrup.
What the fuck is a cat eye? My brows crease as I stare at Demi’s face. I have no clue what they’re talking about.
From the corner of my eye, I see Demi tilt her head down with a faint smile. She gives me a subtle nod as she stands.
“I’m going to do a lap, see if I know anyone else here. Thanks for the coffee.” Her dark eyes hold mine for an instant before she walks around the island toward the sliding glass door, and my head falls back.
“She looks really pretty,” Summer says, stating the absolute fucking obvious.
My head turns slowly to her as she stirs the cups of chocolate milk for the kids.
“Tell me something I don’t know, Kincaid.” I pull my hand through my hair as a low groan leaves my chest.
Summer shakes her head as she laughs to herself. “Hey, Siri, play ‘Sucker’ by the Jonas Brothers.”
“You think you’re making fun of me, but joke’s on you. I love the Jonas Brothers, and I am a sucker for her.” My arms cross over my chest as I smirk.
“You ask her out yet?”
“Well, someone interrupted our conversation.” I glare down at her before softening my stare. “But don’t worry, I will,” I add, staring at Demi through the glass.
Summer pats my forearm. “Don’t dilly-dally. Looking like that, she’s definitely going to have some suitors.”
“Some suitors? What fucking year is it?”
She laughs before grabbing all three cups, carefully holding them in her hands. I motion to take one from her to help, but she shakes her head.
“Also, what the fuck is a cat eye?”
“Oh, Liam.” She sighs with a smile. “Why don’t you go ask her?” Summer wiggles her eyebrows at me as she turns to walk out of the kitchen.
There are muffled conversations happening around me as I back away from the kitchen with my coffee in hand.
I usually drink my coffee black, but decided to add whatever Demi liked in hers to mine too.
I don’t even know why the fuck I drink it black to begin with.
Probably some bullshit my dad drilled into me about not needing the extra stuff.
The dark leather loveseat in the living room is filled with kids. Chase’s daughter is sitting on one cushion while Nate and Mia’s twin boys are sprawled out on the other. All three arguing over what to watch.
“Scoot over. Make some room for Uncle Liam.”
As soon as I sit down, all three of them pile on top of me.
“Wrestle?” Luke puts both fists in the air.
“We don’t wrestle with fists. What’s your daddy teaching you?” I joke, pulling his arm lightly and knocking it to the side. “I’m sure you’ve got a mean right hook, big man, but save it for your dad.”
He laughs and jumps on me as CeCe rests her head on my shoulder and changes the television to something she wants to watch.
“Smart girl,” I whisper to her as the boys continue rough housing.
Just beyond the sliding glass door, I catch a glimpse of Demi at the patio table.
Not shocking at all—I feel like I could spot that woman in a three-hundred-person flash mob.
But it looks like she’s playing a game when I notice a few glasses in the middle of the table with more than a handful of guests around it.
I pull myself from the couch, the kids seemingly unbothered by my departure, and make my way outside as I take a sip of the iced coffee in my hand.
“This is a case of beginner’s luck. I’m not usually this good at party games.” Demi aims before bouncing the quarter off the table, but it just misses the glass in the center.
“Quarters?” I ask as I stride up on her left.
“What are you drinking?” Chase cocks his head back as he pulls my arm down to get a better look at the cup. “Is that coffee?” he questions.
“Sure as hell beats the hangover you’re all going to have.”
“I’ve decided I’m okay with it,” Ford blurts out, focusing his attention on the glass before making the quarter plop right in the center, sending beer sloshing to the sides.
I take the empty seat next to Demi and watch a couple more rounds go by. Truthfully, I have zero interest in playing this game, but every interest in sitting this close to her.
“Not a quarters fan?” she asks, when nearly everyone else leaves the table.
“Oh, I’m a fan. I’m very good at quarters, but it’s Ford’s birthday so I needed to let him win.”
I see her eyes roll with my response and she blows out a deep breath from puckered lips. To my surprise, she doesn’t leave her seat and instead seems to settle in more comfortably.
“So…” Before I can say anything else, Demi pulls the glass closer to us and tucks a stray dark brown wave behind her ear. Once, then twice.
“Play me.” Her chin is set in a stubborn, yet confident line. “Let’s see this ‘very good at quarters’ in action.”
I scoff at her request and rub my hands together. “I always knew you liked seeing me win, just never thought it was at your own expense.”
“Tone it down, Twelve.” Her words are flat, but there’s a glimmer of something in her eyes. A challenge, maybe?
“Care to make it interesting, Dem?”
She narrows her stare as she studies my face, and a smirk lifts on my lips. “Let’s make a bet.”