Page 64 of Free to Run
Ava and Matt keep a fundraising bucket at the front of The Coffee Shop. In lieu of keeping Ava’s tips, they donate them to various local, state, and national charities. This month, the lucky recipients are K9s for Warriors—a nonprofit dedicated to providing service canines to veterans suffering from PTSD, traumatic brain injury, or who experienced sexual trauma during their military service. Matt, Ava’s husband, was a VA psychiatrist for a number of years and helped any number of people in Collyer with their own personal issues.
A small smile plays on my lips as I look at Keene. “That was nice of you.”
“I’m hardly ever nice, Alison.” Keene’s voice is mocking. It’s funny, now that he and I have actually spent time talking, I can see past that condescending tone. I look at his face where the blush lies along his cheeks under the neatly trimmed scruff he wears.
“Hmm. Really?” I pick up my coffee. “I know the chocolate used in my mocha is imported from France, but I didn’t know the eggs were imported from Antarctica. How do penguins taste for that price?”
His cheeks burn bright red.
Gotcha.
“I…it’s just…” Keene lets out a deep breath. “They’re doing a good thing for an amazing organization. I’m in a position to help.” He tries to oversimplify the fact that he just paid ten times what he should have for our breakfast.
“I see.”
I smile as Ava walks by, leaving our to-go drinks on the table. She brushes Keene on the cheek on her way past. “You two have a good day at work!”
“We will, Ava. Thanks!” I call back. I look across the table at Keene, who looks like he’s ready to bolt. “You ready to head in?”
“Funny that fifteen minutes ago, I thought I’d have to drag you in,” he grumbles as he stands. Picking up his and Caleb’s coffee, he steps back to let me precede him through the door.
“Funny, fifteen minutes ago, you’d have been right,” I concur. We get outside of The Coffee Shop and start to cut down the alley toward Amaryllis Events when I turn sharply toward him. “Then again, generosity, benevolence, and a kind heart wrapped up in a sexy package seems to do something to me.”
I press my body into his before I give him a kiss to last us both until the end of the day. Keene’s unable to move, as each of his hands is filled with scorching hot coffee. But boy, can his lips move—sliding over mine, taking control of the kiss. I hold my mocha away from us as I run my free hand from his hair down his shirt, feeling each ripple of his delicious abs.
A few moments later, I step back and wipe my lip gloss from his lips. “Like I said, there’s something about that combo.” I turn on my heel and keep walking.
Catching up to me, he rasps, “That was a hell of a way to end a first date.”
I laugh. “Please. That wasn’t the end of the date. The end of the date is us walking through those doors. It’s like meeting the parents for the first time.”
He stops dead in his tracks. “Oh, hell no.”
“Don’t worry about it. I don’t let Phil scare me, and neither should you.” I pat his cheek condescendingly.
“It isn’t Phil I give a crap about, it’s my sister. I can’t be a jackass to my pregnant sister.” He honestly looks like his eyes are about to roll back in his head.
Hmm. “She might not be able to make it downstairs,” I point out. “She is moving slower these days.”
“She’s about to become a mother. I swear those hormones release some kind of special sense because she was practically waiting by her front door when I got back to her place last night.”
“We could ignore them,” I say as we approach Keene’s car. He places the coffee on top to reach for his keys. “Cassidy tried that when we were grilling her about Caleb. It sorta worked.”
“I heard about that night from Caleb. Apparently, it involved you all making food penises and drinking bottles of wine. Not happening.” Keene is adamant.
“Did Caleb ever show you the pictures?” I bend over to reach into the back of Keene’s Audi, grabbing my briefcase.
He groans but recovers quickly.
“Of food dicks? Why the hell would I want to see that?”
I try, but I can’t control my laughter anymore. Keene’s expression is too much for me to handle. “Babe, I meant the ones of me, Cassidy, and Em. We totally drunk texted him. The pictures are a riot. If I’m not mistaken, the next day is when he and Cassidy—”
“Stop. I can’t listen to this. You’re killing me.” He pins me against the car.
“Then shut me up,” I taunt.
With a wolfish smile, he does. A few moments later, he says, “Now let’s see if Cassidy can make it to the foyer before you make it to your office since she was looking out the window just now.”
