The coffee shop was a brown brick hole-in-the-wall, but the mouthwatering aromas that hit him as Damon stepped inside made up for the lack of curb appeal. The walls were the same brown brick as the exterior and the floors were a shiny gray concrete. Mismatched tables and chairs were arranged haphazardly, but there was a clear path to the counter and display case of pastries. Phoebe Snow crooned from the overhead speakers as a handful of customers took advantage of the Sunday evening lull.
Bonnie Bennett sat at a small table in the back, sipping from a huge ceramic mug and intently reading a book. She was as gorgeous as he remembered, but she looked different than the woman he'd met all those weeks ago. With the halo of shoulder length kinky curls and smooth, bare face she was more natural urban goddess than flawlessly made up vixen. And now that he'd seen her, Damon felt less trepidation about hooking up again.
He was surprised that she'd called him, especially because he'd had no intention of calling her. They'd exchanged numbers out of politeness more than anything else and he'd promptly deleted hers as soon as he'd left her apartment and slipped into his car. A one night stand was a one night stand. He wasn't her type. She definitely wasn't his. Too serious and girl-next-door. Her kind craved commitment and Damon wanted none of that shit.
But the sex. The memory of it was enough for him to give caution the middle finger. And here he was.
"Hey". He greeted as he reached her table.
Her head snapped up and a coy smile stretched her full lips. "Hey."
The sound of her voice evoked an erotic memory. Of the low hum of it in his ear, soft and womanly as she coaxed him to go harder, deeper. And those dark jade eyes were even more beautiful without all the eyeliner and shadow. No wonder he'd been so drawn to her that night. Bonnie Bennett was a whole lot of lusciousness in a fierce, tiny package.
She rose from the chair to give him a hug. As if he were an old friend instead of just some dude she'd fucked once and barely knew. "You want coffee? Something to eat? There's not a lot on the menu, but the food's amazing."
"Coffee's good." Damon's eyes flew to the menu board on the wall behind the counter, where a smorgasbord of offerings were scribbled in multicolored chalk. "I never knew this place was here."
"Come to this side of town often?"
"Used to."
"Luxe?" Her tone was teasing as she named the strip club three blocks down.
"Do I look like a peeler bar kinda guy?" He asked with feigned indignation. "I could've been visiting that vintage record store across the street."
"Uh huh. Who's your favorite girl?"
He stared at her a beat before the grin he'd been holding back broke through. "Gretchen. She comps me bourbon."
She was still laughing when they reached the counter and, against his keep-things-casual judgment, he was loving that she was so cool. The Amazon barista turned out to be Bonnie's cousin Lucy and the shop's owner. Damon ordered black coffee, leaded. After a stretch of shrewd examination, Lucy deemed him a yirgacheffe man.
"That sounds witchy. And illegal."
"Well, you can't smoke it so…you good, little cousin?" Lucy asked Bonnie as she slid a steaming mug of fragrant java across the counter. "Got some black bottoms left."
Damon brows lifted with interest, tone dripping with debauchery. "I'd like some of those."
Both women snorted loudly and Bonnie turned to him, eyes shining with humor. "They're cupcakes. And no thanks, Luce. My ass is spreading enough as it is."
What spread? Her ass looked like a plump little apple in those jeans and discreetly ogling it as they returned to the table spiked Damon's lust. The plan was to make quick work of his drink and move things to her place. But he got sidetracked by the coffee, which tasted as if it had been brewed by the gods, and the first edition copy of Bleak House Bonnie had been reading. Seduction was abandoned as they discussed the book's brilliance and whether it or The Sound and The Fury was the more difficult read.
Had she been this interesting the night they'd met? Granted, they'd done more drinking and eye fucking than getting to know each other so there was probably a chance she was more than just how hot she'd looked in that plunging halter top. But Damon was all about satisfying a physical need, so even if she was less vapid and more interesting than the other women he was seeing, this thing tonight wasn't going beyond coffee and hopefully sex. He'd had his share of serious relationships and well…fuck that.
A guy wearing a filthy apron was helping Lucy buss tables as she sang loudly along with another Phoebe tune.
"I never got this song." Damon swirled the dregs of his coffee, torn between begging for another cup of yamacheechee or whatever it was and hustling Bonnie somewhere more private. "What the hell is 'two fisted love'? Does that mean the sex is good or is he beating her ass? And if he's her baby and he's getting the best of her with his chemistry, why's she talking about being stuck in the suburbs and dying on the vine? One minute he's flying off in his space craft and the next they're wandering on a desert plain with no canteen."
"First of all..." Bonnie said after laughing her ass off. "…no more coffee for you. And second, what do you know about Phoebe Snow?"
Damon eased back in his chair and shrugged. "When I was in college, there was this hot history professor. She was into a lot of jazz and folk music…Phoebe Snow, Chick Corea, Joni Mitchell. I used to sneak into her office when she was between classes and I could always tell if I was going to get laid by what music she was blasting. A Case of You? I was getting lucky. Harpo's Blues? A whole hour of her telling me where I went wrong on my term paper."
"You're ridiculous." Bonnie shook her head, soft curls floating around her face like a cloud.
She was stunning.
Shit.
"Speaking of..." He murmured, leaning forward to tug her hands into his. "You ready to get out of here?"
The smile faded slowly as Bonnie's expression grew serious. And determined. Not the reaction he'd been hoping for. Hadn't she called him because she wanted to hook up? This coffee date was just a pretense, right? Or had he read her wrong?
"Am I missing something?" He asked, keeping his voice low and calm. He wasn't upset at all. Despite the one night stand, his initial instincts about her appeared to have been right. And if this wasn't going anywhere…
"I'm sorry." Bonnie hesitated, fidgeting nervously with her sweater sleeve as she glanced around the shop.
Her agitation was fueling his agitation and Damon found himself scanning the coffee shop with her. It was empty now, Lucy and the busser having disappeared along with the customers. He turned back to her to find her watching him warily. "I thought -"
"Damon." She sighed heavily, shrinking away from him as she crossed her arms over her breasts. In an instant, she'd gone from warm and open to edgy and closed off. "I asked to meet because I wanted to talk to you."
Tension knifed its way through his body as instinct warned this was about to go sideways. "About?"
He could see the mental wheels spinning in her head, the moment when Bonnie Bennett decided to hell with everything, she was just gonna put it all out there. She lifted her chin and hardened her eyes and Damon braced himself.
"I'm pregnant."
