Free Double Dare by Melissa Whittle Page A

swiping up left over honey with her finger. “The last seven.”
    “Seven,” both Emma and Abigail said.
    “Speaking of which, how is Miguel?” Emma asked Abigail.
    “We’re approaching six months.”
    “Seven. Crap,” Sasha said and then shrugged. “But I’m not ready for marriage.”
    “You could date,” Abigail said, because they were crossing into well-covered territory. “You currently don’t date. You sleep.”
    “There’s rarely sleep.” This was said with a sly smile.
    “Same difference,” Abigail said.
    “There’s a difference.” Offense creased Sasha’s brows. “Sleep implies a want to be around the person longer. A desire that goes beyond sex.”
    Her friends debated that point, but Emma’s gaze had been drawn out the window. From the seat she could Tobias unlocking the door to Caff-aholic. Another black shirt. The man dressed as though in mourning. He rarely laughed or smiled. Not her type, but the perfect guy to befriend, especially since they planned to become business partners. She had her friends and he had no one, yet. What would it hurt to offer something a little more between them?
    The fact he probably never did anything halfway would keep them on even keel. Yeah, he desired her, Emma knew it, but he wasn’t knocking down her door to see more of her. A physical attraction was understandable but controllable. They wouldn’t indulge themselves and scratch the itch they had for each other. An urge Abigail and Sasha would likely encourage and instigate. Strong emotions wouldn’t get in the way of their relationship. If she presented the idea of being just a little bit more to him it would be, “You’re a man. I’m a woman. We’re single. How about we spend time together, you know, when we want company?”
    See , no emotion involved in that. It would be like dating, without pressure. All that dour of his would ensure no entanglements. It would be a nice change of pace to feel desired too, because Emma would bet money he wouldn’t smile if she surprised him. She’d get that look , and Tobias would mentally remind himself it was rude to undress her in his mind.
    Settled on the plan of action, Emma scooted out of the booth, leaving her friends to argue. When the morning chill prickled the hair on her arms, she cursed. She’d forgotten his jacket again. Checking for traffic, she crossed the street to him. The heeled boots clacked against the sidewalk. She hadn’t had time to slip into flats yet.
    His gaze started at the shoes then up until their eyes met. There was such an intensity to it and so much passion behind the look, it left no doubt he’d mentally taken off every stitch of her clothes. Her lips parted remembering the rough way he’d suckled her lips and tongue. A feverish heat consumed the skin his gaze brushed over. In its wake she couldn’t find the earlier bemusement at the look .
    “Morning,” she said, breathless.
    The shuttered gaze came first, and then he mentally placed her clothes back on. “Morning, Mallow.” He stepped into the store, waited for her to enter and locked the door.
    “What brings you by?” He slipped his keys into his pocket.
    “One friend brain dead,” she said. He started to take down chairs and she helped. “The other one can’t stem the flow of chatter. I’ve perfected the sleeping with my eyes open method.”
    Efficient. He had all the chairs in place and was heading behind the counter. He was like a freight train, the kind that couldn’t stop on a dime.
    “Sounds like an emergency,” he said. “Espresso. The sweetest blend I have, but nothing added. For you, a mix of regular coffee and cappuccino with all the frills.”
    Was he flirting? Maybe he always had that lightness in those midnight eyes. Why couldn’t he smile and let her know?
    He set to work and within minutes a bitter yet sweet tang filled the air. “How’s my brother working out so far?”
    He didn’t chuckle, but she heard the tinge of laughter in his