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I look her over and begin to wonder what’s up with Ursula. She used to have way more scruples. Is it pregnancy brain?
“I think you want me to settle down so we can be moms together.”
Ursula nods. “Yes! And then we can go on double dates!”
I have to shake my head. I pick up my coffee and take a longer sip, enjoying the velvety brew.
Just then, Ursula’s gaze shifts from me to something over my shoulder.
Her eyes widen and she mutters, “Speak of the devil.”
“What?” I ask.
Behind me, a doorbell jingles as a customer walks in.
Ursula doesn’t answer me. Instead, she waves down the new customer from across the room.
“Over here!”
“Ursula, what are you doing?”
“Don’t turn around. Just be cool,” she hisses as heavy footsteps approach our table.
The large presence to the right of me has me looking up.
And there he is. Owen Mosley is standing there, sans-toddler, hands on his hips, and smelling like clean laundry and the outdoors. I don’t hate it.
“Well, I’ll be going. Have fun, you two!” Ursula pushes her chair back and gathers her bag and decaf coffee.
I can’t believe she just did that. I communicate that exact thought with my bulging eyes. Ursula blows me a kiss and scampers away like the guilty little raccoon she is.
The chair she just vacated scrapes against the glossy concrete floor. My eyes shift to the imposing, handsome man pulling that chair out.
“Mind if I join you?”
I’m not an ogre, I remind myself. I can still have coffee with a man I recently rejected for a date.
“I don’t mind.”
Owen sits across from me, and I find myself rubbing the meat of my palm down the top of my thigh. My muscles are inexplicably tight right now.
“So,” he starts. “Enjoying your day off?”
I nod and smile. “I am. I usually meet Ursula for a gab session every Friday morning, but she seems to have disappeared.”
He winces. “I didn’t mean to chase her off.”
He looks genuinely sorry about that.
“It’s not you. It’s Ursula. She chastised me for saying no to a date with you so now she’s playing Cupid by making a quick exit.”
“I see,” he says. “About that…”
Rebel stops by the table and sets a large iced coffee in front of Owen. “I saw your order come through on the app. Iced Orc Fuel with extra foam.”
I try not to smirk at his fancy drink with the silly name. If he wants to enjoy some time away from Graham and have a complicated coffee drink, good for him.
He takes a sip, and some foam sticks to the scruff above his top lip. This should not make me feel tingly. It’s wrong, wrong, wrong that I’m picturing myself licking it off.
