I had to leave right then and there. I scurried back to my house. Bringing Lachlan coffee was supposed to be a chore. A punishment for losing. It definitely shouldn’t have involved banter. Who knew Lachlan Kelly gave such good banter?
Tomorrow’s coffee drop-off would be quick and to the point.
It took two coffee-drop-and-runs before Lachlan caught on and caughtme. On Saturday, he was waiting for me on his porch, smug and grumpy rolled into one.
I thrust his coffee toward him from the base of the steps. “It’s a Frappuccino, extra whip.”
He chuckled, eyeing the cup in my hand like he didn’t know what to make of it. “Straw?”
I held up my empty hand. “Nope. That wasn’t part of the deal.”
He trudged down the stairs, stopped right in front of me, and slid the cup from my hand, popping the top off. Mounds of whipped cream were piled on top of the frozen coffee. Truly, a ridiculous amount.
I held my breath, waiting to see what he’d do, if he would back down.
Lachlan opened his mouth wide, taking in a mouthful of cream. He got it all over his lips, not even attempting to stay clean, but it didn’t gross me out. He had a way of eating that made me want to have a taste too.
He must have seen the want in my eyes, because he tipped the cup toward me and brought it to my lips. My tongue darted out, taking just a dollop on the tip. I hummed at the smooth, sweet flavor. He had rockslides in his chest again as he took another mouthful.
He offered me the cup again, brushing the cream against my lips. I licked it off my top lip. Lachlan watched the trail of my tongue. Wanting more than just a dollop this time, I opened my mouth and used my lips to take in more whipped cream.
“Good?” he rumbled.
“Mmm.”
I didn’t eat whipped cream. I had to fight the urge to bury my mouth in it and suck it all down my throat. What was this? Why did being around this man scramble my brain and make me want things I never had before? It certainly couldn’t be a good thing.
He reached out and swiped his rough thumb along the side of my mouth. “You made a mess of yourself.” He took his time sucking my mess right off his thumb.
“What are you doing?” I blurted.No onemade me feel like this, like I wasn’t in control of myself and my reactions. This guy didn’t even have to try, and I was literally eating out of his hand.
“Collecting my prize,” he said simply.
That raised my hackles. All of this did. I didn’t like not knowing if I was coming or going with Lachlan. He pushed and pulled until I was dizzy. Some women might have been into his whiplash, but I was more of a solid ground kind of girl at this point in my life. I’d been jerked around enough for a thousand lifetimes. No one got to do that to me anymore.
“I think you’re playing games.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You’re not interested in me, but you keep finding reasons to be around me. I don’t like games. I’ve always been a poor winner and a terribly sore loser, so I don’t play.”
He cocked his head, pinning me with an unwavering stare. “Do I look like I play games? That’s not my style, Elsa. I don’t deny I like having you at my beck and call. It’s been fun, but it’s not a game.”
“Then what’s the point of this? Why won’t you let me drop the coffee on your porch and leave? Why were you waiting for me today?”
“You have a bad habit of putting a lot of words in my mouth that aren’t there. You accused me of hating you. You say I’m not interested in you. You tell me you’re not my type. I never said any of those things. As for this morning, I was waiting for you because, like I said, I’ve been enjoying this.”
He put the frap down on the porch steps and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. His eyes swept over me, my little pastel sundress, heels, hair I’d spent an hour molding into soft curls. My mother would approve of this outfit. It was far more her than me, though I was aware I looked good.
“Where are you off to?”
His swift change of topic caught me off guard. It shouldn’t have. Lachlan was blunt and to the point. I supposed he figured he’d answered my question, so the topic was closed. Since I really didn’t want to stand here all day going back and forth with him, I answered.
“I’m going to my parents’ house for brunch, where I’ll most likely be guilted into spending the day with my mom.”
He lowered his chin. “There’s someone out there who can make you do something you don’t want to?”
I scoffed. “I have to keep up the perfect daughter image or the world will fall apart.”
He nodded like he understood. Like he didn’t question that sentiment. It made me curious about him, about the wilderness he emerged from. I wouldn’t ask, though. This interaction had already gone on far longer than I’d meant for it to.
“Your parents live nearby?”