Inordinately pleased he’d gone to a different coffee shop, she shrugged lightly. “Doesn’t mean I can’t have a little here and there.”
He raised his eyebrows, and she held out her hand with a small, olive-branch smile. He grinned back as if she’d given him a rainbow, and handed her the cup.
“Thanks.”
“Cream or sugar?”
“Both.” He passed them through the window as well.
Mae figured since she’d extended the branch, she might as well offer the tree. She motioned toward her truck with her head. “Why don’t you ride with us? No sense wasting gas.”
Merit didn’t even take two seconds to consider before grabbing his own cup and his sunglasses off the dash.
He hopped out to join her, and she had to wipe a silly grin off her face when he first hurried to open her door for her, then loped around to get in on the passenger side. He took her cup and added the extras as she backed out of the driveway.
She hadn’t had coffee since the morning she’d taken the pregnancy test, and she enjoyed every savory sip that slid down her throat as she drove to the field while the guys talked soccer. They arrived a few minutes before eight, and Ian ran to join his team while she and Merit loaded their arms with the chairs, cooler, and a blanket.
On their way to the sidelines, Mae called out greetings to the parents she knew. She noticed some curious glances, and more than a few of the moms checked Merit out from head to toe and back up again. She wanted to tell them to back the hell off, but reined in the possessive green monster and set up camp a little farther down the sidelines than normal.
And really, it was hard to blame them. His face was pretty enough, but the rest of him was looking exceptionally yummy in a snug, gray T-shirt, extremely worn jeans that hugged his backside perfectly, and tennis shoes.
It was interesting how each of the brothers had their own style. Asher liked jeans without holes and crisp, untucked button up shirts with sleeves rolled to the elbows. Loyal was always pressed and tucked in his khaki’s and smart vests. While Merit, other than the one time she saw him in a tux for his brother’s wedding, seemed to favor T-shirts and jeans, holes and rips be damned. No one would ever guess the guy was worth well over seven figures.
“Chairs and a blanket?” he asked as she spread out her red, white, and blue throw in front of the chairs.
“Yep. Keeps people from sitting in front of us.”
“You’re kidding. They do that?”
“The second time an opposing team’s parents did it to me with umbrellas, I started bringing the blanket. Hasn’t happened since.”
“Ok-ay.”
“Plus, I can stretch out if I want.”
“Can I join you?”
The husky, suggestive question made her heart skip even as she darted a quick glance around to see if anyone had overheard him. “It’s a kid’s soccer game,” she admonished in a low tone. “Keep your mind out of the gutter.”
“You’re going to have to help me with that.” He grinned. “My mind took up permanent residence in the gutter round about the time I turned thirteen.”
She twisted to face him, hands braced on her hips. “Well, then, have a seat, and I’ll tell you all about having to pee every half-hour when the baby is sitting on my bladder. Then there’s the heartburn, swollen ankles, weight gain and stretch marks—”
“Stop. Please.” He held up both hands in surrender. “That’s way too much seduction for me to handle with all these people around.”
Mae laughed as she dropped down into one of the canvas chairs. He sat in the other and drained the rest of his Java Hut cup before tossing the empty under his chair.
“How do you take your coffee?” she asked. Partly because she was curious, and partly to distract herself from thinking about how persistent he was now, but things would change when she had swollen ankles and stretch marks.
“I had a caramel mocha latte.”
“Ah. So just a little coffee with your sugar?”
“Yep.” He smiled and extended his legs to cross them at the ankles as he slouched in the chair. Then he lolled his head in her direction to give her a wicked grin as he eyed her over the rim of his sunglasses. “I like it sweet, remember?”
It was the “remember?” tacked on at the end that stole her breath away. That, and the return of his low, husky tone shot heat straight to her core. The one night they’d spent together, he’d said she tasted sweeter than honey.
“Merit,” she whispered in warning.