“God forbid.” Jules shifted away from the tailgate and shot a smile at Adam. “Thanks for the beer and, well, for everything else, too. You’re sweet.” Then she was gone, being towed by her friend through the crowd back toward the line of trucks.
Adam sipped his beer, watching her pivot her hips to avoid a drunk guy. The move made his cock perk up—again—and take notice. As if he hadn’t been interested before.
He didn’t look over when his friend took her place, even when Quinn said, “I love me some redheads—so snarky and full of rage.”
“You’re a sick, sick man.”
“No doubt.” He drained his beer and set it aside. “So what’s your next step?”
He glanced over. “What do you mean?”
“Come on, man. I know you, and I’ve seen that look on your face before—usually when you’re about to get me into a whole world of trouble. You’re not done with that woman.”
“She said she wasn’t interested.” His gaze tracked back to the trucks, craving another look at the way she filled out those damn shorts.
“Right.” Quinn snorted. “Whatever you say.”
Chapter Three
Jules stepped over Mr. Winkles and made her way to the table where Mrs. Peterson was petting Cujo while she read the morning paper. “I hear that boyfriend of yours is back in town, dear.”
“Ex-boyfriend.” She dodged Cujo’s clawed swipe and topped off the old woman’s coffee.
“I also hear that his daddy is planning on grooming him to take over the family business. Very prestigious, that.” She still didn’t look up from her paper.
Jules gritted her teeth and made an effort to keep the smile on her face. “I really wouldn’t know.” You know she’s just poking for gossip. There’s no malice behind it.
It didn’t make it sting any less, though.
She’d known everyone would start with the questions the second Grant got back into town. It might have been nearly a decade, but the Devil’s Falls residents weren’t much a fan of change. They’d liked it when Jules and Grant were Jules-and-Grant, the town’s golden couple, and most would be tickled pink if the two of them picked up where they left off.
Obviously kissing Adam hasn’t hit the grapevine yet.
Jules cleared her throat at the thought. “Would you like a blueberry muffin?” she asked. “They just came out of the oven.”
“Oh, I really shouldn’t.”
They went through this same song and dance every day. Jules smiled. There was comfort in knowing what to expect, no matter what Grant believed. “If you’re sure. There’s banana nut, too.”
Mrs. Peterson froze like a hound catching a scent. “Banana nut, you say? Well, maybe just this once.”
“Be right back.” She turned around, pausing to pet Loki and Rick where they were sunning themselves in a beam of light coming through the big windows in the front of the shop. They rewarded her with rumbling purrs, and Loki even managed to rouse himself to bump his head against her leg. She scratched behind his ears the way he liked.
The locals had given her grief when she bought this place and announced it was going to be a cat café, though it was the kind of indulgent grief she was used to. Oh, that Jules Rodriguez—she’s so quirky. But when it came to the café, the proof was in the pudding, and over the course of any given week, most of them made some excuse or other to walk through the doors and cuddle one of the seven cats she kept here. It might be a little strange to some people, but this coffee shop made people happy, and that made Jules happy.
What was so wrong with that?
She delivered the banana nut to Mrs. Peterson and then started a new pot of coffee, her mind going back to the events of the night before as she went through the familiar motions.
Kissing Adam Meyer had been… Well, it had been a questionable plan at best. She’d wanted to create a scandal, and once news of that kiss hit town, scandal was exactly what she’d get.
She dumped the water into the machine, her body prickling with awareness she had no idea what to do with. The kiss had been pretend. She knew that rationally, but her hormones were having problems remembering it.
Especially when he’d offered to keep the charade going.
I can do this all night.
The awareness grew stronger, sparking in places it had no business being. The man was just doing her a favor, and all she could think about was how good he smelled and how sexy it had been to feel his whiskers scraping against her skin? Her imagination was all too willing to offer up ideas about where else they would feel good if she’d given him all night.