“That a novel concept for you?”
“No,” I’d grumbled. “I just don’t picture you as a guy who cooks.”
“I’m thirty-one, beautiful. Been feeding myself for well over a decade, now.”
Thebeautifultook a bit of the bitchy wind out of my sails. I’d tried not to let it show, but that happy, fuzzy warmth was back in the pit of my stomach — and spreading fast. My head got a bit dizzy with thoughts of moving around Cade’s kitchen, meeting his puppy, making dinner together… and, admittedly, got even more dizzy with some R-rated thoughts about what might happenafterdinner…
Cade, being a detective, did not fail to notice my reaction. His eyes were a shade more heated as he leaned in and brushed his lips against mine — yes, a third time! — then muttered “Tomorrow” in a way that felt like a promise. Heavy with intent. That happy, fuzzy feeling had multiplied tenfold in my gut.
I could only stand there, frozen like an idiot, as he walked out the door and disappeared, casually sipping his cappuccino as he went. As though he hadn’t just effectively rocked my entire world in the span of two minutes. It wasn’t until a customer waved a hand in front of my face to get my attention that I jolted back into motion and resumed making coffee drinks.
I’d promptly put the interaction out of my mind for the rest of the afternoon. I knew, if I thought about it, I’d be too distracted to remember the difference between a café au lait and a cortado.
“Earth to Imogen. Come in, Imogen,” Florence said now, her voice robotic as she called me back to the present. “This is your captain speaking.”
My eyes jerked up as the Cade-daze cleared. “Sorry. What were we talking about?”
Florence and Gwen looked at each other, both trying — and failing — to suppress grins.
“Okay, why do you keep looking at each other like that? It’s starting to freak me out.”
Gwen’s tone was low, soothing. “It’s just, in my experience, men like Graham Graves — which is a category that also includes Caden Hightower, for the record — tend to move pretty fast.”
I stared at her.
“Like, warp-speed.”
“Cheetah-like,” Flo added.
“Mach 3,” Gwen offered.
“Great.” I leaned back against the cushions. “That’s just great.”
“Itisgreat, Imogen.” Flo shook her head, like I was insane. “Cade is a solid guy. He’s a catch.”
“He’sthecatch,” Gwen corrected. “Ask any woman with a functioning libido in the Greater Boston area.”
I clasped my hands together nervously. “I never said he wasn’t.”
“Your face did,” Flo declared. “You look like someone just suggested you fly transatlantic in the middle seat. And, as far as I can tell, you have no reason to look like that, chickadee. I saw that lip-brush he gave you. That was a good lip-brush.”
“That was ahotlip-brush,” Gwen said.
“Totally,” Flo agreed.
They weren’t wrong. But... still! They didn’t have to say itout loud.
“I’m leaving in a few days,” I reminded them.
“So?”
I stared at Flo. “So, I’m not about to get involved with a man just to blow out of town!”
“You could always stay,” Gwen suggested quietly.
“Seems to me you’re already involved,” Flo barreled on, determined.
Damn and blast.