Pit Stop: Baby! (Crescent Cove 4)

Four

“I can’t believe you did that.” I stalked down the sidewalk toward Brewed Awakening. I definitely hadn’t had enough coffee to deal with Gage Kramer.

“Did what? Ask you to lunch?” he called from behind me.

“In a high-handed, dirty, and underhanded way.”

“So, I’m high-handed and underhanded?”

His stupidly long legs had him catching up to me in like two long strides. Ugh. “Don’t be an ass.”

“Just making sure which it is.” He grinned down at me.

“What are you doing here?”

“Aww, did you miss me, huntress?”

I scrunched up my shoulders. “Don’t call me that.” I did not need to remember him calling me that. Especially when he did it while I was…

Nope.

No.

Not going to think about that night.

“You liked it that—”

I whirled on him in the middle of the street. “We are not discussing that night. One and done, remember?”

“Just because it was one and done doesn’t mean I don’t remember every damn detail.”

The laughter was no longer in his golden brown eyes. Just the intensity I remembered so very vividly when he’d laced our fingers together over my head, pinning me to the sumptuous mattress at the Sherman Inn. He’d stretched me out and covered every inch of my body with his.

“You remember it too.”

I swallowed. “It was good for a one-night stand.” I whirled away from him and practically ran for the café.

Macy represented safety. One steely look from her and out of control hormones locked themselves down out of self-preservation.

“Oh, honey, if all one-night stands were like that, everyone would do them. You know it was more than that.”

I shut my eyes as I braced myself on the wide double doors of Brewed Awakening. I shook off his words and swung open the door to the n

oise and craziness that was Macy’s café. Dozens of people littered tables and lined up for coffee and food, and Macy’s crew of people rushed around as orders were shouted. It was too noisy to talk to him.

Dear God, I needed coffee to handle this.

What the hell was he doing in town? He should be practicing driving or something. Whatever it was that race car drivers did between races. I didn’t freaking know.

He followed me inside. I could feel his warmth behind me. Before Gage, no man had ever made me so aware of him in my space. The few guys I’d dated were fun. They were good guys who knew about boundaries and manners.

Gage knew about none of those things.

The tips of his fingers rested on my lower back, and I had to resist the urge to shiver followed directly by a lean-in. Since the moment we’d met, we’d been invading each other’s space. For God’s sake, I’d kissed him before even attempting to know his name. That wasn’t me. I might not want strings when it came to men, but at least there were names exchanged before my panties hung off the chandelier.

Not that that had occurred with Gage. It had actually been a Tiffany lamp, but close enough.

He lowered his mouth to my ear. “What’s good here?”