the dude in the cowboy hat?”
“Yeah, him. What’s his deal?”
Arnie ripped a blueberry muffin in half with his big fingers and handed her a piece. He looked at the cowboy a few times with an assessing expression. She rather liked how willing he was to people watch with her.
“He’s a pretend cowboy,” he stated in a throaty chuckle.
“How do you know?”
“The hat is new, and it doesn’t fit right. When he takes it off, there’s a welt on his temple. No real cowboy would put up with an ill-fitting hat.”
After licking her fingers and following up with a napkin, she wiped her mouth and sipped the latte. “Very observant.”
“Shall I continue?”
“Oh my, please do!” She laughed.
“Okay, so I think he’s either foreign or playing a part. He’s not sure of himself or the surroundings.”
She looked at the faux cowboy. He seemed jumpy and nervous and kept touching the top button of his shirt.
“Maybe he’s a spy,” she whispered.
“Doubtful,” he murmured. “Too high-strung.”
“Hmm. You’re right.” She paused to consider the options. Smacking him on the arm, she grabbed hold, and murmured so only he could hear, “I have it! Cowboy is his Tinder game. He’s here waiting for a hookup.”
His chuckled snort made her laugh. “Tinder cowboy, you say?” He smirk-nodded. “I bet you’re right.”
When an attempt to split a cookie crumbled along with the treat, they resorted to rock, paper, scissors to decide who got custody of the pieces.
It was after ten o’clock, but the late hour didn’t stop more and more people from crowding the busy coffee shop. The noise level increased, and their available space narrowed until the only thing to do was head for the exit.
Before they made it to the door, she wisely did a quick bladder check and excused herself to dash into the ladies’ room.
Arnie considered taking out his phone to ask Siri how long it took to fall in love until he realized how pathetic it was to ask a computer program to explain the biggest mystery in human emotion.
Leaning against the wall next to the bathroom door, he waited for the pale-skinned Goldilocks to reappear. His heart thumped with anticipation and lower, a pleasurable ache pulsed in his groin.
The pleasure was nearly wiped out though when he did the math on the thirteen-year difference in their ages. Goddammit. Was she too young? Was he too old? Where was the go, no-go zone?
He performed a quick fact check. She was old enough to vote and legally able to drink. If called to serve, she was also old enough to defend her country.
In his case, he wasn’t a shameless womanizer, had never been named in a paternity case, and could look forward to decades before retirement came knocking. Surely, he was in the clear, right?
“Whew,” Goldilocks exclaimed with a laugh as she marched from the bathroom slinging the long strap of a purse across her body. “That was a close call.”
They faced each other, each of them grinning sheepishly, and for the first time in his adult life, Arnie was tongue-tied.
The burgundy dress she wore for their coffee date clung to her curves, but it was the valley between her boobs made by the purse strap bisecting her chest that emptied his brain.
He was a big guy with big hands and if he got to design the perfect female, she’d have big boobs. Summer had a spectacular rack. He mentally imagined enjoying the soft mounds and gave them pretty nipples he could play with.
“Oof,” she grunted when a rude motherfucker shoved her out of the way in their haste to get to the bathroom.
Colliding with a solid thud, she pushed against his chest trying to right herself. The heart-pounding, groin-tightening physical reaction he had to her small hands on his body came as a huge surprise.
“I slipped that guy twenty bucks to shove you out of the way so you’d slam into me.”
Summer blinked her pretty smoky eyes, and for a brief second, her brows bumped together in a frown of confusion. Then she got it, laughed, and gave him a half-smirk. Adjusting the purse strap across her body, she suddenly launched toward him, and they chest bumped like she was one of the NIGHTWIND crew scoring basketball points.
“All you had to do was ask.” She giggled.
She. Was. Perfect. With a bold, capital P.
“Warn me next time,” he drawled. “So I can grab your ass in surprise.”
She threw her head back and laughed up a storm. “You are a bold one, Arnie.”
“And you, golden