Latte Darling (Darling, #2)

by S.J. Tilly

“Well, even if you didn’t have other plans, I still appreciate it. I was already stressing out about how long I should sit here and wait for him if he was late.” I sigh. “I like to give people the benefit of the doubt, which means I’d probably have sat here forever. Or at least until the pitying looks of others proved to be more than I could handle.”

Anger clouds Axel’s features, “Any man that makes you wait, is not worth your time.”

My mom said those exact same words to me once. I was in high school, in the process of being stood up for my first ever date and in full denial, and I blew up in her face. Telling her I’d wait as long as it took, that he’d be there, that true love took work. Of course, none of that was true and my night ended with me crawling under my covers fully dressed and sobbing into my pillow.

And thus started a trend of me being stood up that would carry on until… well now, apparently.

Because I’m tired of being lonely. Because I want someone to hug me.

Because I want to know that there’s someone – anyone – that might love me the way I want to be loved.

Woah, girl. I sway a little. You’re fucking Drunk with a capital D. Then I snicker a little to myself. I wish I was getting some actual D.

“You’re so big.” My eyes widen. “Oh my god, I’m sorry! I don’t mean big like fat, you’re just ginormous. And not that there’s anything wrong with fat. Fat is fine.” I wave a hand up and down, gesturing to myself. “Clearly. I just meant…” I let my eyes trail all the way up to the top of his silver-streaked head and start to sway backwards. Large hands grip my upper arms, “First, you don’t need to explain. Compared to you, I’m a beast and I know it.”

He steps closer and I can finally smell him. And sweet horny hormones, he smells exactly like a sexy man should. Something deep and musky and sexy. Like his bodywash is scented and maybe he showered recently, but it’s mixed with a… I don’t even know what. Damnit, I’m too drunk.

“Second,” he shifts and my body gravitates towards his, “don’t ever call yourself th...

A warm fingertip touches the underside of my chin, pressing up until I tilt my head back enough to look Axel in the eye. His blue eyes stare into mine as he says, “You’re fucking perfect.”

Fucking Hell. I’m trying to be a good man. A good human. But this little Siren is testing my goddamn limits.

Her big, beautiful eyes and the sad soulful look in them when she said she said didn’t want to be alone… That shit almost killed me. How fucking unfair is life if someone as stunning and sweet as Maddie is stuck being stood up at bars when she just wants to meet someone? Because she doesn’t have anyone to go with her to her best friend’s wedding.

I couldn’t decide if I wanted to flip every table in this stupid place, or if I wanted to pull her into my lap, wrap my arms around her, a...

I want to tell her that I’ll go to the wedding with her. That I’ll drive her anywhere she needs to go. But I’m all fucking wrong for her. She’s looking for someone to start a life with, not some old man whose kid stood her up.

I close my eyes and breathe. Unwanted boners were a problem I thought I left 35 years in the past, yet here I am.

I don’t know. I didn’t have sisters. I have one son. And I’ve never seen someone straighten their hair in my entire life.

“Aww, thanks.” She sways into me, bumping her shoulder into my arm. “You’re too nice.” I snort. Her head tips back so she can look up at me, “What?” I shake my head, “Nothing, I just don’t think anyone’s ever described me as too nice.” “That can’t be true.” The scowl that forms between her eyes is stupidly cute. “Afraid so, Baby.”

She makes a small humming sound, and somehow I know it’s her way of disagreeing. I squeeze her hand again, “You want to argue about it?” I tease. I fucking tease! Who am I? Her exhale is audible, “I really hate arguing.” Every hackle I have rises and I stop walking.

My mouth starts to open, but what am I supposed to say? Is there someone I need to dismember and bury in the woods for disagreeing with you? God help me, I’m trying to comfort the girl, not scare her.

“Yeah, Doll. I was just teasin’ you.” I try to say the word without choking on it. “But you can disagree with me whenever you want. I won’t get mad at you.” “Oh.” Her eyes brighten, “See?” “See what?” “You’re too nice to me.” I heave out a breath. “Maybe just to you.”

“Look at you, making a compromise on top of being nice. Keep this up and people might think you’re just a big softy.” I narrow my eyes, “Keep trying to reform demons, Angel. See where that gets you.”

“Is this you?” I look over at the rusting minivan and raise a brow at Maddie. “Seriously?” “What?” she looks back and forth between me and the atrocity, clearly not seeing the problem. “I don’t care if you drive a beater.” “I care if I drive a beater.”

I clear my throat wanting to curse my luck. It’s like the universe knew my type exactly, and dropped her in my lap, about 20 years too young, just to drive me mad.

“First, I’m too nice and now I’m cute?” She nods. “Time for me to set you straight, Baby Girl.” Even in the darkness, I can see her green eyes sparkle as she blinks at me, “And just how are you gonna do that?” “Like this.” Keeping my foot on the brake, I close the space between us and seal my lips to hers. And she moans. The little sex pot fucking moans.

I know I’m being an asshole by cutting off the kiss like that, but I was about a second from throwing the car in park and fucking her on the hood. Which would be wrong.

The way she scrunches her face is adorable. And I should tell her. Or say something. But I don’t. Good god, it’s no fucking wonder I’ve been single for so long.

“Don’t be embarrassed, Doll. You’re fucking perfect.” Her fingers slowly part and she looks up at me. She stares at me for a few moments. “Why are you so-” “No.” I hold up a hand to stop her. “Don’t call me nice again.”

Then she shocks the shit out of me by stepping forward and wrapping her arms around me in a hug. A fucking hug. Every muscle in my body stills as she lays her cheek against my chest, her tiny hands pressed into my back - not quite reaching around me. My arms are in the air, like she’s placing me under arrest instead of showing me affection. I don’t… I don’t remember the last time someone hugged me.

The second I pull her closer, she relaxes into me. As though this is normal, and not the most spectacular thing that I’ve experienced in years.

My lungs expand, fighting against the tightness in my throat, and I watch her head move with the rise of my chest. Looking down on the top of her head, I imagine this is the same view I’d have if she fell asleep sprawled across my chest. I squeeze her tighter.

“Mmm,” her sound of satisfaction rolls from her body and into mine. “You’re a good hugger.” A smile cracks across my face, “There’s another first. Next, you’ll tell me I’m pretty.” Maddie snickers, then tips her head back to look up at me. The s...

If I were a smart man, this is when I’d leave. I’d bid her goodnight, turn around and walk back out the front door. But I’m not a smart man.

I kick off my shoes and start to follow, but my eyes snag on the small purse she set on the little table by the door. I shouldn’t. I take half a step then pause. Feeling like a total fucking creep, I grab her purse. I need to know.

Quick as I can, I open the zipper and dig around until I find her driver’s license. Maddison Faye Richards. Maddison. Cute. Finding her birthday, I do the math and confirm she’s 31. Still too young for me by far, but at least she’s not in her 20’s. And she’s more than a decade older than my kid. Relieved, I place the bag back where it was and stride down the hall after Maddie.

Her amazing sauce, cheddar cheese, slices of roast beef that absolutely didn’t come from a store, some sort of fancy lettuce, and the tomato slices that I insisted on cutting for her.

Sitting side by side, she looks up at me shyly, “Bon appetit.” Together, we take our first bites. And my soul leaves my body. “Fuck, Maddie,” I groan, shoving another bite into my mouth. “It’s okay?” she holds a hand in front of her mouth as she asks, trying to cover the fact she’s talking with her mouth full. “Not okay.” I shove another bite into my mouth, having no such compunction about talking around food. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

She does that doe-eyed blink at me. “You’re just saying that.” I shake my head, “Hell no. I’d never lie about food. Plus my mom would kill me if she heard me say that about someone else’s cooking.” Maddie gives me a small smile before taking another bite. “I think it’s the late hour. Food always seems to taste better at night.”

“If you’d like to stay for a bit, you can. I’m just gonna get my pajamas on.” Leave, jackass. It’s time for you to leave. “I can stay for a while.” The angel on my shoulder throws up his hands, shaking his head in exasperation.

“What the fuck are you doing, Axel? She’s literally young enough to be your daughter.” But she’s not, the small devilish voice in my head says. And dammit, the voice is right. Who cares how much younger she is than me? She’s not underage. She’s in her 30’s. She’s an adult with an adult home and an adult job and…

The bathroom door opens, followed by the soft sound of bare feet on a wood floor. “Jesus.” I don’t mean to say it out loud, but thankfully I say it under my breath. There’s no confusing the fact that Maddie has an adult body. In tiny floral-patterned shorts, a spaghetti-strap pale blue tank top, and her hair spilling over her bare shoulders, she looks like a centerfold straight from my wildest dreams.

Her thighs look smooth, and I want to crawl between them and discover what they feel like against my face. And further down, my eyes snag on her tiny little feet, each nail painted a bright red, and on the top of her foot is a trio of interlocking hearts tattooed into the pale skin. I want to taste her. I want to start at her toes and work my way up to her pussy, inch by glorious inch.

“I know this probably sounds stupid,” she starts, “but I like having you here.” Biting her lip, she glances away. “You make me feel safe.”

But then she turns, leaving the living space, heading towards what must be her bedroom. And I can’t look away because each step she takes causes her ass and thighs to jiggle. And… Goddammit! I want this woman.

“I can’t stand wearing jeans for a single second longer than I have to. And dropping face first onto the couch after work is one thing. But getting into bed, under the covers, with jeans on?” She shivers, making a disgusted face. “No, thank you.”

I wait for the angel on my shoulder to tell me to keep my pants on and to walk out the front door. But the devil on my other shoulder has the angel tied up and gagged.

Time to stamp my one-way ticket to eternal damnation.

And standing in my white t-shirt and gray boxers, I accept that one night of laying in the same bed as Maddie will be worth any punishment the universe decides to dish out.

“You’re not married, right?” My eyebrows raise as I give my head a little shake, “Not married.” Her eyes search mine, “Promise?” This girl… “I promise,”

“No girlfriend. No fuck buddy.” She didn’t ask for more, but I need her to know that there’s no one else on my mind. No other bed I’d rather be in.