Chapter 6
Chapter
Six
E mbarrassment washed over Summer, knowing she had babbled away. Heat burned in her cheeks.
But Chance’s hands rested on her shoulders now, his gaze intent. A calm descended upon her. Her breathing slowed, even as her pulse began to speed up.
Because of his touch.
Nervously, she wet her lips, catching the flare of desire that sprang to his eyes. Suddenly, she felt feminine power filling her. She was aware of the electricity between them.
She hadn’t been wrong.
He felt it, too.
“Let’s get your backpack off,” he said, turning her so he could remove it, gently pulling the straps down her shoulders. He set it so that the backpack leaned on the chair next to her.
“Thank you,” she said, her mouth going dry.
Summer had never experienced such a rush of potent feelings before. She was afraid to put a name to it. Scared it was mere lust.
When she wanted more from him.
“Don’t rush it,” she said under her breath, causing Chance to frown.
“Nothing,” she said more loudly. “I’m just worn out. It has been a heck of a day.”
He reached for her hands, taking them in his. She didn’t realize how cold they had been until surrounded by his warmth.
“You’ve been outside a long time—without wearing gloves,” he lightly chastised.
“I can’t type in gloves. Mine are too thick. I used to have thinner ones that let me use my cell phone, but New York winters are frigid. I gave away the thin pair and bought bulkier ones.”
“You should’ve kept both.”
She laughed. “I’ll bet you’ve never been to New York before.”
He smiled. “You’d lose that bet. I went on several business trips during my twenties.”
Chance still held her hands, and she wasn’t about to break the spell and make him aware of that fact.
“Then you stayed in some fancy hotel with a great view and a big closet.”
“That about sums it up.”
“My apartment, if you could call it that, probably would’ve fit inside that hotel closet.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “You’re exaggerating.”
“I rented a place just under four hundred square feet. I didn’t even have a bed.
I slept on the couch. Which I could sit on and reach out and touch the kitchen counter, where I had a microwave and tiny fridge.
No oven. And it only took about five steps to get to the bathroom.
The sink inside it also served as the kitchen sink.
As big as you are, you wouldn’t have even fit inside my shower.
And the hot water would run out after two minutes.
I learned to take the fastest showers of my life. ”
He squeezed her hands. “I want to hear more about your life in New York.” Chance glanced down at their joined hands and then back up at her. “I think your hands have warmed up now.”
They certainly had—as well as her cheeks.
“Let me get us something to drink.”
Summer pulled her hands from his. “No, the coffee’s on me. I almost stood you up, so I need to make it up to you.”
“But I asked you to meet for coffee. I should be the one paying.”
“Not a chance, Blackstone,” she said, sitting on the chair and reaching into her backpack, extracting her wallet. “What’s your order?”
“Coffee black,” he told her.
She frowned at him. “No way. This is a coffeehouse, Chance. You can get anything you want here. Lattes. Expressos. Even?—”
“What’s wrong with my order?”
“It’s … not fun.”
His dark brows shot up. “Not fun?”
“You know what I mean. Like I usually eat cereal or oatmeal for breakfast. If we went out to brunch, would I get that? Absolutely not. That’s the boring, regular stuff I eat every day.
Brunch is fun . It’s Belgian waffles and French toast and eggs Benedict and mimosas.
The same rule applies at a coffeehouse. You get something you normally wouldn’t drink at home. ”
He studied her wordlessly, taking in what she said. “Surprise me.”
“Okay. I will.”
Summer headed to the counter, seeing Ben was the only barista present.
“Hey, Ben. I’m back. I’m going to need a large hazelnut latte and large caramel macchiato.”
“He won’t drink that. Chance. He’s never ordered anything but a black house coffee.”
She smiled confidently. “I am broadening Mr. Blackstone’s horizons.”
Ben laughed. “This ought to be good. Coming right up, Summer.”
She returned to where Chance waited. He rose again as she arrived and waited for her to take a seat. She had forgotten that’s what a gentleman was taught to do in Hawthorne. It made her feel good to be back in her small Texas hometown.
Slipping off her coat, Summer placed it on the back of her chair. She saw Chance had also removed his jacket but left his cowboy hat on.
“Do you mind removing your hat?” she asked. “I’d like to be able to see your eyes better.”
She loved their unusual gray color, which only added to his sex appeal.
That included his unruly hair, black as midnight, and cheekbones which could cut glass.
She was five-eight, but he had least half a foot on her.
He was lean yet muscular, toughened by life on a working ranch.
Summer couldn’t help but wonder what he looked like under his cowboy clothes.
Chance removed his hat. “Sorry. Should’ve done that before—being indoors. I’m not often in town, around people. My hat just is a part of me.”
“Well, you look good in it,” she said brightly, hoping that didn’t sound too flirtatious. “What do you want to know about New York? You told me back in December that you’ve lived in big cities. I think while they all must have their own personalities, they also must feel alike in many ways.”
“Chicago is frenetic,” he shared. “Fast-paced like Manhattan. Everyone in a hurry. And that wind whipping off Lake Michigan can be a booger bear come winter. Seattle is the exact opposite. Laid back. Funky. A Starbucks or some other coffeehouse on every corner. Denver has those amazing views and a huge beer culture. They say beer is the new gold in Denver. Just like Seattle has an abundance of coffeehouses, Denver has a ton of microbreweries.”
He raked a hand through his hair. “If they were people, I’d say Chicago would be a Wall Street trader, always in motion, making the deal, with a deep-dish pizza ready to devour when the trading day ends.
Seattle is an old hippie, freethinking, dressed in Birkenstocks and a shirt from a secondhand clothing store, sipping a coffee and smoking a joint.
Denver is a guy in his late twenties, cutting a deal one minute and tasting a flight of craft beers the next before heading out for a long hike. ”
“I’ve never been to any of those places,” she admitted. “You make me want to see them.”
“Maybe we’ll go one day.”
She couldn’t quite read the look in his eyes. “Maybe.”
“How would you classify New York?” he asked.
“I assume you mean the city, and when you say the city, most people think of Manhattan. The five boroughs are all very different. Manhattan is that guy who’s always in a hurry, brushing past people and bumping them, never stopping to apologize.
But it’s got the bright lights. The great restaurants, from Michelin star places to little holes in the wall.
And I enjoyed going to all the museums. They have a museum for everything.
I really liked spending time at The Cloisters, which housed medieval art and tapestries.
Its grounds overlook the Hudson. Fall is the best time at The Cloisters. ”
Summer laughed. “They even have a museum dedicated to ice cream.”
“Now you’re talking my love language,” Chance teased.
Ben appeared, two large mugs in hand. “Who gets what?”
“Give him the macchiato first,” she suggested. “He doesn’t know it, but he’s going to try both.”
“I am?” Chance asked, arching one brow, causing her to laugh.
Ben set the mugs down. “Holler if you need a refill.”
“Will do,” Summer said as he left. To Chance, she said, “I’m eager to see what you think, sampling two new, different coffees.”
He picked up the mug in front of him, frowning slightly as he peered down at it. “What is this exactly?”
“A caramel macchiato starts with a shot of espresso and a little vanilla syrup. Then you pour steamed milk over that and finish with a drizzle of caramel sauce. The caramel adds not only sweetness, but it caramelizes the flavor. Try it,” she encouraged.
He brought the mug to his lips, and suddenly, Summer wanted to take the mug from his hands and climb into his lap so she could explore those sensual lips with her own.
She had gone off the deep end. These kinds of thoughts had to stop.
Instead, she watched Chance taste the brew. Swallow. Then he smiled.
“Not half bad.” He took another sip.
“Better than coffee black?” she teased, causing him to give her a mock frown.
Sliding the other mug toward him, she said, “Give this one a try now. It’s a hazelnut latte.” Before he could ask, she added, “It also has espresso, along with steamed milk and sweetened with hazelnut syrup. It’ll taste rich and nutty.”
Cautiously, he lifted the second mug, staring into it. Then he took a sip. Paused. Took another one.
“I like this better. Don’t get me wrong. The first one was really good. This is more to my taste, though.”
“Then you keep it. I’ll take the macchiato,” she said, her fingers curling around the handle so she could bring it closer.
“See, isn’t this more fun than a boring house blend?
I’ve opened a whole new world to you. Next thing you know, you’ll be ordering flat whites and peppermint mochas.
Maybe even pumpkin spice lattes next fall. ”
“You just think you’ve enticed me to the dark side, Sutherland. The minute we leave Coffee Hour, I’ll be back to my tried-and-true black coffee.”
“I’m not saying never drink black coffee again. Just when you find yourself at a place which specializes in coffees, have a little fun with it. Loosen up.”
“Hmm.” Chance took another sip of his latte. “I guess I could get used to this. Away from the house. I’m not ordering any fancy machine for the kitchen at the ranch, though.”
“It’s enough to know that if you come in here again that you’ll spice up your order.”
“Only if I have someone to drink it with. Like you.”
Was she reading too much into his words? Summer couldn’t figure Chance out. Then again, she’d never really known him.
And she decided to speak up and say so.
“I guess I don’t really know you well enough to know what you like to drink.
Or eat. Or do. You were always West’s friend.
Hanging with him. You were the brother he never had.
When I think back to my childhood, you were always around, but I never really knew much about you.
Yes, you played football. You loved to ride horses.
West always said you were really smart. But that’s it.
I guess I’m ready to know the man you are now, Chance. ”
“Ditto,” he said. “You were West’s pesky little sister, with a mouthful of metal and thick glasses. I do remember you were funny. And popular. You always had a lot of friends around.”
“Thank goodness I finally got those braces off.” She smiled at him, deliberately showing her teeth.
“They did their job. And I got contacts, too, which made a world of difference. Especially in cheerleading. After college, I had Lasik eye surgery done. It was able to correct my nearsightedness and astigmatism. No more cleaning contacts and having different solutions lined up on the bathroom counter.”
She took a sip of her coffee. “Let’s start from scratch then. I mean, I know a little about where you lived after college. You’ve heard about my apartment in Brooklyn. Let’s just go from there and see if we have enough in common to become friends.”
Chance held her gaze a long moment and then said, “What if I want to be more than friends?”