Page 61 of One Night Stand After Another
“Sure.”
He crossed the Boardwalk, coffee in hand, and hit the beach, lifting his face to the breeze.
Letting Clara go hadn’t been an entirely unselfish move. He’d been protecting himself from more hurt. He wanted to give her time to come to him, toseehim, but he was rapidly approaching his tipping point.
The café would open soon. His intention to stay in California was clear. He wasn’t going to pressure her to change her life, but he still wanted to be part of it.
His ego could handle rejection if there was even the possibility, she might give him another shot. He’d run out of patience, but not hope. He was still all-in.Fuck it.He was calling her. He wasn’t giving up—hell no. He didn’t know how to quit, anyway.
He downed the rest of the coffee in his cup. His blood pounded in his ears. Energy roared through his veins. His skin tingled.
But that was nothing compared to what happened to his heart when he turned back around…and saw Clara standing in front of the café door.
Chapter Twenty
Café Crochetgraced the front of a hand-painted wooden sign in the café window…in the same font she used on her blog header. She stared at it, uncomprehending. “What on earth?”
“I used your font,” Zane spoke from behind her. “Because it reminds me of you.”
Her heart soared.
She whirled. Sun-kissed skin. Unruly curls tangled by the ocean breeze. Dark scruff giving him a slightly haggard look. Crystal-gray eyes connecting with hers, instantly, like always.
And she had no plan.
The sign in the window made her hope she didn’t need one.
She catapulted herself into his open arms. “You stayed,” she breathed against his neck.
His arms closed around her, making her feel whole for the first time in months. “Just because I stopped trying doesn’t mean I stopped believing.”
She lifted her head. “I was such a fool.”
His lips curved. “Same.”
She put her hands on his shoulders and met him more than halfway as he bent to kiss her. He tasted like coffee and the best days and nights of her life, and she couldn’t believe he was still here, wanting her. She opened to him, letting him in, showing him with her lips and tongue that she wanted him, too. The kiss went deep, fast, and when she surfaced, her back was pressed against the front window, and her legs were wrapped around Zane’s waist. The only thing keeping her from public indecency was the length of her knit skirt.
The front door of the cafe opened, and a woman with short, blond dreadlocks emerged, keys in hand. She looked at them and smirked.
“Jeanine, meet Clara,” Zane said.
“About time,” Jeanine said. “I assume I can stop keeping you alive with caffeine now?”
“Definitely.” Zane grinned.
“Nice to meet you,” Clara offered.
“Likewise—am I locking up or not?”
“Not.” Zane dropped Clara to her feet. “Want to see the new place?”
“Absolutely.”
He held the door for her. She stepped inside, looking around while he locked the door behind them. Her breath caught.
“This is incredible.” It was perfect. Colorful but not chaotic. Plenty of room. Comfortable-looking chairs that made her want to sink down into them and get lost in yarn. The menu was chalked on the wall behind the coffee bar. A quick scan proved it was pure Zane Brampton brilliance. “You did it, anyway. Even though I said no.”
He pressed a kiss to her palm and then grimaced. “Not exactly.”
