Page 22 of Raff
“Oh, that’s sweet. But I can’t have that much milk.”
“It’s oat, I think. Or maybe almond. I dunno. It’s not cow, that’s all I do know. Know you prefer soy, but we didn’t have that.”
“Oh.” Her brows drew together.
“And one sugar because we didn’t have your sweetener.”
“How did you know that?”
“Sweet baby, I’ve been watching you make coffee for years.”
“I don’t get called sweet very often,” she admitted.
“That’s only because no one sees what I do.”
Something flickered across her eyes, but it was gone too quickly for me to place.
“Come on. You know you want it,” I said, wiggling the coffee at her, making the ice cubes clink.
She snatched it out of my hand and took a quick, greedy sip. Then let out a moan that would haunt me for the rest of my life.
“This might be even better than the stuff Cillian gets.”
“Aren’t you glad I chased you down?”
“I’ve had worse company,” she said, eyes twinkling as she started to walk again. “You broke into my car.”
“I did.”
“Thank you.”
“Don’t gotta thank me. I had them laying around.”
“You had seat covers that perfectly fit my car laying around?”
“Fine. That’s a lie.”
A little laugh escaped her at that.
“Have you made any progress on fake Drake?”
That got a deep sigh out of her.
“Okay. So. Idothink I was right to be in that area.”
“It doesn’t seem like the kind of place a fake developer would be, though.”
“Not where I was staying, no. I was off by a few towns. There’s a lot of building going on in and around the Golden Glades—what?” she asked when I stopped walking.
“You sure it was around Golden Glades?”
“Yeah. That name kinda sticks in your mind. Why?”
“We have a sister chapter in Golden Glades.”
“Explain that like I’m someone who isn’t up on their motorcycle club lingo.”
“So there is a mother chapter. That is where the club originates. Our mother chapter is in Navesink Bank, New Jersey. And then there are sister chapters from there. One is in Golden Glades, one is here, and one is in Texas.”
