“Christ, sorry, are you…into me?” he asked.
But he knew.
She was.
Like she knew he was into her.
She turned to face him fully and snapped, “Of course not. You’re very…” another round of looking him up and down, “you.”
The guy in front of them coughed.
“You’re also very…you,” he replied.
“I am very, very me,” she drawled.
Fucking shit, it was insane, he barely knew her, didn’t even know her last name.
But he had a new need when it came to her.
He needed to kiss her.
Hard.
“Yeah, you are,” he murmured.
Her eyes rounded, but her mouth got soft, and again she turned and became fascinated with the line.
“I’m getting a coffee on my way back to Phoenix,” she told the line. “Where I’m off to do my job and live my life because that’s where I do both.”
“Good choice, not hitting a drive-through and instead going out of your way for Wild Iris.”
She made a noise of assent.
She then said, “I know what you do for River Rain. Duncan told me.”
“Yeah?”
“So, you know, wandering the store, willy-nilly, preying on customers you think are overworking the staff is not your job. In fact, Bowie gave the impression that he didn’t have anyone with that job description.”
“Bowie” was Duncan Holloway, his boss. People close to him called him that. Judge had no idea why, but Chloe using that name gave new meaning to who she was to Duncan.
And Duncan might have given that impression, but he didn’t say dick to Judge about it. And Harvey gave Judge shit about their altercation, he didn’t sit him down and take a stripe out of him.
So clearly, Duncan knew her well because he didn’t make a big deal out of something that wasn’t a big deal.
“Breaks can get boring, and somebody’s gotta look after them,” he joked.
“Huh,” she said.
Yeah.
She said “huh.”
“Did you just say ‘huh’?” he asked.
They advanced in the line, and her gaze tilted up to him again.
“You can’t say ‘huh,’” she informed him. “It’s a noise, not a word.”
“Did ‘huh’ just come out of your mouth?” he amended.
She gave him her full face, and when he got it, he realized he would have paid her for it.
“What of it?” she asked.
“How old are you?” he asked back.
“Old enough,” she dodged.
“Eight-year-olds say ‘huh,’” he told her.
“Excellent,” she returned. “The age to which I aspire acting until I die.”
He busted out laughing.
When he got it under control, she was glaring at him.
“I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you,” he admitted.
“Soak it in,” she advised. “Because my hope is, you won’t have another chance to do that.”
She was so totally lying.
Because she was so totally enjoying this as much as he was.
He grinned at her.
They made the front of the line.
She ordered immediately.
“Turmeric dirty chai, macadamia milk, iced.”
Of course she knew exactly what she wanted.
And it was complicated.
The woman behind the counter looked to Judge.
“It’s just me on this order,” Chloe said to her.
“No, it isn’t,” Judge contradicted. “I’m buying for both of us.” And he was about to order, but Chloe spoke again.
“I don’t let men who are a, not my friends or b, not my lovers buy things for me.”
He shut his mouth and gave her a long look.
Pink hit her cheeks.
Which meant he gave her a huge smile at the same time wondering what else might make her blush.
She looked back to the cashier. “Just the dirty chai.”
“And a Mexican latte,” Judge added.
Chloe turned to him again. “I’m not paying for yours.”
“No, you’re not,” he agreed. “As I said, I’m paying for both, and we’re also not arguing about this because,” he tipped his head to the line that had formed behind them, “there’s eight people who want coffee, and they don’t need to listen to us bicker for fifteen minutes before they can put their order in.”
“Yeah, as entertaining as you two are, we don’t need that,” someone behind them said.
Judge was in danger of laughing again, but he didn’t because those brown eyes flashed, and that was so spectacular, he was glad he didn’t miss it.
She looked to the cashier. “I have a much fuller understanding of the meaning of ‘crush the patriarchy…’” and with perfect timing she finished, “right now,” and with that, she and her pumps swanned to the side.
Judge gave his name and paid for their drinks.
When he moved to the area where people were loitering, waiting for their coffees, he came to a stop right at her side.
And she didn’t delay querying, “You know what irks me?”
“I know that question should probably have a modifier like ‘at this moment,’ or ‘right now,’ considering I’d guess a lot of things irk you.”
She stared daggers at him for two long beats before she noted, “What irks me in this current moment is you being a gargantuan smartass.”
In order not to miss anything, he grinned instead of laughing.