I reposition her, and she turns so she is lying on her side so I can get to the back of her leg. I can’t help but notice her shorts creeping up and exposing more of the back of her thigh leading up to her ass. I fight the urge to run my hand up the back of her leg and caress her. I want to hear her moan under my touch.
I blink and try to refocus on working. “Well, you can’t go back, but you can move forward. Try not to think of what’s changing in your life as all negative,” I encourage her, trying to calm my dick down at the same time. “Try to look at it as an opportunity for new things.” Yes. New things like my lips all over your precious skin.
“You sound like my friend Lindsay. I guess the two of you must be right.”
I wheel away from her and place my gun down on my worktable. “Okay, pretty lady, time for a new thing right now. You’re coming to the cafe with me.”
IVY
IT’S JUST COFFEE. IT’S NOT A date. Keep him company while he eats, nibble on something, and then go home. No big deal.
My reflection in the bathroom mirror is not what I want to see. I look tired. My eyes look a bit puffy and dull. A grey hair is visible. Shit! I reach up, carefully grab it, and yank it out.
Ouch!
I’m definitely getting my hair done. Soon.
Rubbing the new sore spot on my head, I wonder why Lukas wants to have dinner with me. Given his age, I’m sure we don’t have too much in common. With his looks, he must have tons of pretty young girls he could be spending time with on a Friday night, not wasting time with someone as boring as I am.
He feels sorry for your lonely ass.
I frown in the mirror and tell myself it doesn’t matter what a twenty-four year old guy thinks of how I look. Grabbing my bag, I unlock the door and meet him in the waiting area.
“How about the Friday after next? Same time?” he asks, scribbling on his calendar again.
I don’t even bother to check my calendar app. “That’s perfect.”
“Awesome. You ready?”
I nod and he comes around the counter. “I know it’s freezing out, but do you mind if we walk? It’s only two blocks. The cold air wakes me up¸” he says as we head outside and he turns to lock the door behind us.
“Walking sounds great. And I actually really like the cold,” I reply. I love this street; it’s quaint with lots of great little unique stores and boutiques, which is one of the many benefits of living in a small, artsy, New England town. Being December, Christmas lights decorate most of the shop windows, making the street look very much like a holiday card scene. I hope I can find an affordable house to live in, if Paul decides we have to sell our house, because it will break my heart to move from this little town I grew up in and love so much. I want my kids to grow up here like I did.
“Does your leg feel okay?” Lukas asks. “I didn’t think of how sore it might be when I asked you to walk.”
I smile up at him, touched by his sweet concern. “It doesn’t really hurt at all.”
The cafe is small but cozy, decorated very much like a living room. There are small tables adorned with candles, a few loveseats with oversized pillows, pretty Tiffany-style lamps, and an electric fireplace with a large stone mantle. In one corner is a Christmas tree with wrapped presents beneath it. I immediately fall in love and know I will be coming back here. Only four other customers are here at the moment—two sitting on a love seat reading, and two others are chatting softly at a table.