ROMANCE: MENAGE ROMANCE: Tapped and Taken by Two (Pregnancy Sports MMA UFC Fighter Romance) (Alpha Male Romance) (25 page)

“You dropped this,” Derek said.

“Oh my goodness!” I held my hands out and he placed the bracelet into my hands. “Thank you!”

“No problem.” We headed outside to find a bench to sit on and eat our kettle corn.

“No, really,” I said, still cradling it in my hands, running my fingers over the pearl beads and braided copper wire. “I don’t know what I would have done if I had lost it.”

“It’s pretty special, then?”

I nodded, and held it out for him to see. “It was great grandmother’s, given to her by my grandfather in place of an engagement ring because he couldn’t afford one. She always said she liked it better than a ring, because if she ever took it off, the green around her wrist would always remain. It was given to me when my mother passed, but it’s broken…”

“Where?”

I handed the bracelet to him and pointed to the copper toggle-style clasp. “Somehow the bar that catches on this hoop broke. I’ve been meaning to fix it, but don’t know anyone who can make an accurate replacement.” I indicated the embossed floral design on the metal. “I keep it in my purse just in case, but can never find the right design…”

Derek frowned as he examined it. “Yeah, I see what you mean. It has a Celtic feel.”

I looked at him in surprise. “How do you know that?”

“You need to know a lot of things about a lot of things in my job.”

I smiled at him. “My mother suspected the same thing, actually.”

“Well, I hope you can get it fixed soon,” he said, returning it to me. “It sounds really precious to you.”

“It is,” I said with a sigh, carefully sliding it back into my purse. “It’s probably the most precious thing I own.” What would my mother think if I never got it fixed?

Derek kissed me and held out the bag of kettle corn. “Care to do the honors?”

I laughed, and took a handful. We chatted while we ate, and saw the sleepy morning blossom into a vibrant and sunny day. It almost felt like we were a real couple.

By the time the performance ended, it was early afternoon. Having snacked a fair bit earlier, we opted to go for coffee instead of a late lunch. Following the GPS on my phone, we walked to one of the top-ten coffee shops in the city. It sat on the edge of a square bordered by quiet boutiques and patio restaurants. The square itself was currently being overhauled for a weekend music festival, bustling with people putting together a stage and hoisting blue and orange banners to the sky.

From the outside, the cafe looked sophisticated, but not pretentious. The front door was a sleek, bold burgundy, and the sign overhead was a large slab of carved wood. Peering through the floor-to-ceiling front windows, we could see a line snaking towards the register. But other than that, it didn’t look too crowded and we could there were at least a couple free tables. A melodic chime welcomed us when we stepped inside. It was cute, and I felt suddenly compelled to lean over and land a kiss on Derek’s cheek.

He raised an eyebrow at me. “What was that for?”

“Just because,” I said, suddenly regretting it. Was I being too couple-y?

“Not trying to bribe me into buying your coffee?”

I was about to protest when he laughed, and nudged me playfully in the side.

“Claire. I was already going to pay.”

“I’m not broke, though. I don’t mind paying for us.”

He shook his head. “No. When I take you out, it’s my treat.”

Derek ordered a cappuccino, and I decided to try their hazelnut latte. While we waited for our drinks at a table, I shrugged off my jacket to sling over my chair, but then immediately put it back on.

“Cold?” Derek asked.

I frowned, and pulled the jacket tighter over my shoulders. “Can you feel that air conditioning? It’s blowing right on me.”

“I’ll trade you seats.”

We swapped positions, and as soon as he sat down, he laughed. “Okay. It’s hitting me right on the top of my head.”

“It’s like ice, right?”

“You’d think we’re in Hawaii, they have this cranked up so high. The staff probably go outside on their breaks just to warm up.”

I laughed, glancing at the barista standing at the till and noticing her rubbing one arm as she worked, as if she was trying to stay warm.

Our names were called and we went to grab our drinks. I decided to taste the latte in its purest form, but Derek stopped to sprinkle his drink with chocolate shavings. Only it was less of a sprinkle and more of a downpour. Flash flood even.

“Uh, how much of that do you usually put in?”

“The right amount,” Derek said, still shaking more into the cappuccino.

“Would you like some coffee with your chocolate?”

He grinned at me, and set the metal tin back with the rest of the toppings. “Yes, I would. Thank you.”

“You could have just ordered a mocha, you know?” I commented as we made our way back to our table.

“That’s not a man’s drink,” he said.

“Whatever you say.” I rolled my eyes and took a sip of my latte. It tasted, odd. For some reason this happened to me way too often.

“What’s wrong?” Derek set his drink down. “Is it bad?”

I shook my head. “I think they gave me the wrong drink. This tastes like a vanilla latte.”

He sat up and took the cup from me. “I’ll have them fix it.”

Before I could say anything myself, he was already at the till. In between customers, he spoke softly to the barista, who seemed apologetic and took the cup from him without any debate. Looked like he was the type to take charge, even in local as mundane as a coffee shop.

“They’re making you a new one,” he said, rejoining me at the table. “Just entered the wrong drink into the computer I think.”

“Thanks, Derek.” I smiled at him. If I ever had another beverage mishap, I knew who to call.

When I was called for my replacement drink, I had to tell Derek to stay sitting. While I appreciated his desire to help, grabbing my coffee from the counter was something I could do myself.

As I took my new coffee and turned to return to my seat, a roaring child appeared out of nowhere, laughing as her mother called from the front of the cafe. I stepped away, trying to avoid being run into. But in my alarm, I didn’t notice there was a man preparing his coffee beside me, and I fell into him.

I let out a gasp of shock and a string of apologies. He cursed just loud enough for me to hear, his coffee now a mess on the floor and mine soaking his shirt. Pulling the fabric away from him, he tried to redirect the dripping coffee away from his pants and onto the floor.

“I’m sorry—there was a kid and I—”

He cut me off with another curse and pulled his attention away from his stained shirt to focus it on me.

The air was sucked from my lungs and I felt a shiver crawl up my spine.

His heavy brows furrowed and his mouth turned into an all-knowing smile. “Claire. Clumsy as always, it seems.”

It was Brent. Somehow I was too stunned and terrified at having thrown my coffee at someone that I hadn’t noticed that someone to be my ex. I swallowed hard. We had only dated for two months, but it was two months too many. His charm quickly turned sour when I started asking him to go to places I wanted to try, escalated when I stopped wanting to have sex with him every night we spent together, and evolved into a fury when I finally dumped him.

“I am so sorry,” I said.

“You going to buy me a new shirt? Or find another coffee to throw at me?”

“It was an accident.”

He scoffed. “You need to pay attention to what you’re doing. You’re just a clumsy b—”

“Hey,” Derek said, suddenly pushing me back and stepping between the two of us. “She said she was sorry. It was an accident.” He turned to me and added, “Claire, you okay? Did you burn yourself?”

“No,” I said. “I’m fine.”

Brent scoffed. “Got yourself a new man, huh? You going to toss him aside after a couple months like you did me?”

“Get over yourself,” I hissed at him. “You were a jerk to me.”

“And you were a bi—”

“Back off,” Derek growled, an unspoken challenge in his voice. His shoulders rolled back and I realized just how much taller he was that I. And how much bigger he was than Brent and his stick figure. “And leave her alone.”

Brent shifted on his feet, but didn’t step back. The look in his eyes reminded me of when I had dumped him. They flashed with a dark and dangerous jealousy. “Who are you to her anyway? I don’t see a ring.”

“What do you know? It’s not your business.”

“Whatever, Prince Charming.” He practically spit the words. “Want a lifetime of misery? Go ahead and marry this bitch.”

“Maybe I will.”

The words hung heavy in the air. I bit my lip and watched the coffee puddles on the ground. There were coffee footprints from where Derek stepped. I could hear my heart beat in my chest and feel the color rising in my face. Those words…they were said in the heat of the moment, but something about hearing them said by him stirred something inside of me. I think that was when I fell in love in him.

“Excuse me.” A staff member wielding a mop had snuck up next to us and took the moment of silence to interject. “I need to clean that up. And we’ll make you new drinks, so please don’t worry about it.”

“Thanks,” I said, grateful for the interruption and distraction. I grabbed Derek’s arm and tugged it gently. “Come on, let’s get out of the way.”

He didn’t budge.

I tugged again. “Derek.”

Finally he turned to me, his face serious and the tension built around his eyes obvious. We moved off to the side, Brent in the opposite direction, and let the cafe’s employee get to work.

Thankfully, my replacement coffee’s replacement was ready quickly, and I suggested to Derek that we take our drinks outside and go elsewhere. But he was reluctant, and pointed out that his drink still held our table for us. I only agreed because Brent left the cafe as soon as he had his drink in his hand. I could feel Brent staring at us as he left, and through the windows as he walked away, but I didn’t make eye contact. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction. Even if I did feel a little bad about ruining his shirt.

“I’m sorry about that,” I finally said to Derek, suspecting he had something more to say on the matter, be it to Brent or myself.

“You dated that jerk?”

I frowned. “They’re never jerks when you first date them…”

He seemed to mull it over. Either that or he was replaying the drama inside his head.

“But thanks for having my back,” I said, hoping to cut some of the awkwardness that was beginning to form between us. “It was sweet.”

Derek smiled. His charming smile. “Claire, hon, no one treats my woman like that.” 

~

A large pot of water sat on the stove, and next to it a package of pasta and a salt shaker. Derek added a drizzle of olive oil to a frying pan and turned on the burner. He told me his plan was to recreate a pasta dish he saw on tv one of the few times he found himself on a cooking channel. I asked him what type of pasta dish it was, but he said he couldn’t remember the name, just that it looked good. And that pasta was one of the dishes he actually figured he was decent at cooking.

“Oh,” Derek said, hand in the fridge.

“What?” I came up behind him, abandoning the mushrooms I was cutting.

A scowl took over his face and he swore under his breath. “The fridge. It quit.”

“No way.”

“It’s not running. Feel it.”

I put my hand inside, and felt towards the back. Warm. “Oh, no.”

“What the heck.” He threw his hands in the air and paced behind me. “It’s not even old. Must have broke this morning, too.”

I placed a hand on his shoulder. “At least there’s not too much in it to go bad? Maybe it’s an easy fix?”

He pulled a package from the middle shelf. “But this chicken is no good now.” He stalked over to the garbage and dropped it in with a thud. “There goes dinner.”

I tried to cover my disappointment with a smile. “Hey, it’s fine.”

“I planned this. For you.”

“I know, but it’s not your fault.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. I could see the frustration in his eyes.

“Hey, why don’t we order delivery then? We can get a movie started, and not have to worry about extra dishes.” I rubbed his shoulders and kissed his neck.

He looked down at me, some of the glimmer returning to his eyes. “Really? You’re okay with that?”

“Of course I am. Some of the best date nights are delivery nights.”

“You’re amazing, you know?”

“I know.”

~

The credits began their crawl up the screen and Derek pulled me into his arm. We cuddled on the couch, half-eaten boxes of pad thai and drained glasses of wine across from us on the coffee table. The only light apart from the tv screen came from flickering candles. I had been under the impression that we’d have a romantic dinner, and I wasn’t disappointed. Secretly, I was a bit glad for the unexpected turn of events.