Total pages in book: 40
Estimated words: 38053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38053 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 190(@200wpm)___ 152(@250wpm)___ 127(@300wpm)
After he leaves, I hurry back inside to assess the damage and grab my computer from my office. Thankfully, the water spared my Mac.
As I’m closing up the shop, my phone dings in my pocket and I pull it out. I glance down to see a text from Harrison.
“We should make this more interesting with a side wager. You game?”
Chapter 8
Harrison
Ismirk as I put my phone down on the counter and turn around to grab a beer from my fridge, pouring it into a frosty glass. It’s great being friends with someone who owns a brewery.
I have no idea what this side wager will be, but the way I see it is, if she accepts, I get to spend more time with her.
Pathetic? Possibly.
Desperate? Absolutely.
But when it comes to February Frost, I seem to lose all reasonable thought. Like when I saw her shop today. The water pouring from the ceiling and the tears swimming in her gorgeous eyes that she was fighting so hard to keep from falling. It broke my heart and pissed me off that she will now need to deal with all of that mess.
When she said she was going to drop out of the latte competition, it wasn’t the thought of winning by default that felt like a hand around my throat, it was the possibility of missing out on spending time with her, teasing her, being around her. I didn’t want to accept it, so I offered my shop up as a place she could use as well.
After I thought about it, it seems like a brilliant idea. I won’t cheat and watch what she’s making, but she will be on my turf, which gives me the upper hand. I’ll know where she is, what she’s doing, and with whom.
Christ, I officially sound like a damn stalker.
My phone pings, and I grab it off the counter.
February: What do you have in mind?
Shit, what do I have in mind? Well, in my mind she’s lying naked on my bed while my face is buried in her pussy, but I don’t think that’s going to win me any brownie points, considering she didn’t even want me kissing her mouth.
I need an idea.
I glance around my house as if I’ll find the answer written on the walls of the home I grew up in. I shake my head slightly, bringing the cold beer to my lips for a sip. The foam leaves a tiny trace on my upper lip, which I instinctively lick away. Setting the glass down, I fix my gaze on the contents within. A playful grin tugs at my lips as I murmur, “Foam.”
Me: Let’s see who can make the best latte art.
I’ve got this in the bag. My father taught me a lot in life and one of those things was how to draw, even with foam. I rarely do it at Mug Life and I have no idea if February does it at Deja Brew. I do know that she spies on me and probably thinks I’m not capable of doing something like that and that alone may make her believe she’s already won.
February: What’s the bet?
I sit down on the couch and drop my head back. I should have thought this through before I suggested it. My eyes close and I try to think of something that doesn’t sound like I want to suck on her like a leech.
Memories of my parents unfold in my mind. They were the most remarkable people and the love they had for each other was something you don’t see often. My father was a mechanic and my mother owned a bookshop.
My father was loud, funny, and loved being the center of attention. My mother was quite the opposite. She was shy, timid, and was always happy to just blend into the background. They were everyone’s favorite couple.
My father cooked for my mother on their first date. The rest was history.
I jerk my head up and grab my phone.
Me: The loser, judged by our employees, has to make dinner for the winner.
Either way, I’m winning because I’ll be having dinner with her.
February: Deal.
Well shit, I didn’t expect her to actually want to do this.
Me: I like steak and potatoes.
February: Shouldn’t be so cocky, Harrison. I’m good at what I do.
Me: Oh, I’m good at what I do too, February, and it’s not limited to lattes.
I smirk, enjoying this back-and-forth.
February: I have no doubt, Prom King.
I laugh out loud, shaking my head. She’s a confusing woman, that's for sure. I try to kiss her and she rejects me, yet she’s into the side bet and this flirty conversation.
“I’ll figure you out, gorgeous.”
Me: Just proves I always win, sweetheart.
February: You just haven’t been up against any worthy competition.
Me: Tomorrow afternoon be at Mug Life and we’ll settle this.
February: See you then.