Outrageously in Love by Jen Morris
16
“This place is… wow.”
Luke grins beside me. “I thought you’d like it.”
Likeis an understatement. I had a feeling he might take me to a board game cafe after our phone call last night, but I could never have imagined how amazing it would be.
Down the center of the big room is a row of wooden tables and chairs, two of which are crowded with groups playing games. There are sofas and coffee tables down the back, and to the right is the counter with a coffee machine and low glass cabinets filled with treats. The ceilings are high, with light fixtures dangling low, giving off a golden glow. The whole place is cozy, warm, and inviting.
But none of that takes my breath away like the wall to the left: floor to ceiling, lining the length of the cafe, are shelves crammed with every board game imaginable. And it’s not just games—there’s books, figurines, comics, all kinds of things.
“Oh my God!” I breathe, rushing over to the wall. There are so many games I lose count—loads I’ve never even heard of. I sense Luke behind me and turn to him with an incandescent grin. “Thank you so much for bringing me here.”
He smiles proudly in response. “You’re welcome. Coffee?”
I nod, fastening my gaze back on the shelves. There’s a whole section with fantasy books and I’m drinking them all in.
He laughs, then I hear him go to the counter to order. But my mind is too busy whirring with the sight before me. It’s like I’ve stepped inside a dream—my own dream, which I’m only realizing right now I want desperately.
Luke appears beside me again, gesturing to a table, and I wander over with him in a daze. He pulls my chair out for me, but—oh, shit—my foot catches on something and I stumble, losing my balance. My bag drops from my hand and I slam face-first into Luke’s chest. His big hands grasp my shoulders to steady me, and for a second I’m pressed against him, so close my nostrils fill with the scent of his laundry powder and that familiar, woody cologne. My heart is galloping and I’m not sure if it’s because I almost fell or because I’m practically in Luke’s arms.
“Well, hello there,” he says with a chuckle, and heat spreads over my cheeks as I remember falling in his lap on the plane. A sly grin slants his mouth, then his expression turns serious. “Are you okay?”
I nod, wishing my pulse would calm down. “Sorry, yes.” A laugh tumbles out of me as I step back. I glance down to see a stack of board games beside the table. That’s what I tripped on.
Oh, and there’s the contents of my bag, scattered across the floor.
“Shit,” I mutter, getting down on my hands and knees, hastily gathering my things.
God, what a way to make an idiot of myself in front of Luke.
I finally take a seat opposite him, the warmth in my cheeks fading as I get some air in my lungs and pull myself together.
That is, until I look up to see a smile playing around Luke’s lips. His eyes flit over my shoulder and back to mine, the smirk on his face growing. “I, uh, think you missed something.” Before I can respond, he stands, takes a couple of strides, and reaches down to retrieve something from the floor. Then he’s back, sitting opposite me, grinning like mad.
And in his hand is the box with the John Stamos vibrator.
My jaw drops in horror. Fuck. I forgot that was in there.
I meet Luke’s amused gaze. “That’s not—”
“An exact replica of John Stamos for your pleasure,” he reads aloud, his eyes dancing.
Heat flares up my face. I’m going to kill Alex.
“Really? John Stamos?”
“It’s not—I mean, I didn’t—”
“I would have had you pegged as more of a Bob Saget girl,” he says, lips twitching.
Oh my God.
He turns the box over and reads from the back. “Let John Stamos fill your house with this anatomically correct model…” He quirks an eyebrow at me. “Did you pick this up today?”
“No!” I swipe at it but he holds it out of my reach, still inspecting the package with interest. A few tables over, a group of young guys are playing Settlers of Catan and they turn to watch us, snickering amongst themselves.
“Will you stop waving it around!?” I hiss, shrinking with mortification. At that moment the barista brings our coffee and I can’t even make eye contact. As soon as he’s gone I reach for the box again, but Luke is still holding it away from me.
“What is it with women and John Stamos?”
“I don’t know,” I mutter. “Well, he does have great hair. But that’s not why—” I cut myself off, trying to get back on track. “Alex bought it for me as a joke. It’s not like I’m going to use it.”
He lowers the box, peering at me. “Really?”
“Really. Given the choice, I’d much rather have—” My gaze collides with his and I stop myself just in time, pressing my lips closed. Sex. I’d much rather have sex. With you.
His eyes linger on me for a moment longer, then he slides the box back across the table without saying anything more. I stuff it in my bag, mentally cursing Alex. Then I pick up my coffee and take a long, slow sip, looking anywhere but at Luke and trying my best to pretend that whole thing did not just happen. Because if I allow myself to acknowledge it did, I will die.
Luke reaches into his pocket and pulls out his phone, glancing down as it buzzes in his hand. When he sees who’s calling, his eyebrows slash together and he stares at the screen, his mouth in a thin line.
I glance between him and the phone. “Are you going to answer that?”
“Yeah,” he mutters. “If I let it go to voicemail, I’ll never hear the end of it.” With a heavy breath, he hits the talk button and lifts the phone to his ear. He gives me an apologetic look and rises from the table, stepping a few feet away.
I know I should mind my own business, but I’m curious about who would make Luke that reluctant to answer. As he speaks, I find myself leaning across the table, straining my ears to listen.
“Yes, I know,” I hear him say over the din of the cafe. “I already—” He pauses, his shoulders tense. Maybe it’s a work call. “Okay, but you said to—” Another pause, and when he speaks again his voice is louder, agitated. “Yes. That’s exactly—” Whoever it is, he can’t seem to finish a bloody sentence. “Fine. Yes, I will.” Shit, maybe it’s Dena. “I said I will.” He lowers the phone from his ear, and I realize that’s the end of the call. Not even a goodbye. What the hell?
He pinches the bridge of his nose for a second, then pockets his phone and turns back to me.
“Everything okay?” I ask tentatively as he settles back in at the table.
He shrugs, reaching for his coffee. “Just my dad.”
What? That was his dad not letting him get a word in? Jesus, what is that guy’s problem?
I frown, watching the way Luke sips his coffee as if nothing has happened. Something comes back to me from the night I learned about his divorce—something about his father being difficult. If that phone call is anything to go by, Luke wasn’t kidding.
I open my mouth to ask him about it, but when Luke looks at me with a smile, I bite my tongue.
“Want to play something?” he asks, gesturing to the shelves, and I feel a little thrill. “Go pick a game.”
“Okay.” I rise to my feet and take in the shelves lining the left wall of the cafe. I haven’t played a board game with anyone for a while; Steph doesn’t like them, and the club hasn’t run for a couple of years now. But it’s okay, because I know the game I want to play. My lips tug into a smile when I spot it on the shelf.
The game is called Wisdom Quest and it relies mostly on strategy—which means the more you play it, the better you get. The object of the game is to take your character on a journey around the board, collecting wisdom and powers. You can use the powers of the different cards to block other players from moving forward and to steal their wisdom.
Luke watches as I unload the board, the game pieces, and the card deck. Once everything is set up, I walk him through how to play. I kind of expect him to get bored, because it’s pretty detailed, and I keep getting distracted and going off on tangents about the characters and their various back stories. But I’m surprised to find he’s listening intently, his eyes lit with interest, watching me.
We begin playing, and when I place down my first card—a Swift Journey card, to help me on my quest—I’m hit with a wave of happiness. I haven’t played this game in so long and I miss it.
Luke plays a card and moves his game piece with a grin. He’s picked it up easily and seems to be enjoying himself. I can’t explain the strange feeling in my ribcage as I watch him play.
“What is it about board games, then?” he asks, draining his coffee and setting it aside. “Why do you love them so much?”
I play another card, thinking. “I guess there’s an element of escapism. For a few hours you’re in another world, not thinking about your own life. Plus, it’s like a tiny universe that I can manipulate and control. I can use strategy, take risks and explore various outcomes, without worrying too much about how it will end. I want to win, but that’s not really the point for me. It’s about playing with different outcomes.”
Luke nods, moving his game piece forward. “It sounds a lot like video games. Do you ever play them?”
I shake my head, pushing my glasses up my nose.
“You’d like them, I think. Escapism, strategy, adventure.” He plays a card, then looks up at me with a secretive little smile. It’s not until then that I notice he’s attempting to back my character into a corner.
My lips curl wryly. “If you think you can distract me from what you are doing with conversation, you are wrong.” I know this game better than him. I set down a card that sends him halfway back around the board and he laughs.
“Not at all. I’m enjoying talking about games with you.”
I meet his gaze, expecting to see another mischievous sparkle there, but his expression is genuine and open. He means what he’s saying, and that realization creates a warm glow in my chest. He brought me to this place, knowing I’d love it. He wants to talk about—to play—games with me. He’s having fun.
And that makes me feel something I don’t want to acknowledge. Something that isn’t purely a physical attraction. Something else altogether.
I shove the feeling away and give an uneven laugh. “It’s your turn,” I say, gesturing to the board.
We play for another hour and a half, ordering more coffee, talking about board games versus video games. By the time we finish up—I won, of course—I’m equal parts relieved and disappointed.
Luke smiles at me as he tucks the cards back into the box. “You could totally do this, you know.”
“Do what?”
“Open a board game cafe.”
I cast my gaze over the games and coffee counter again. A cheer goes up from one of the Catan guys and I smile.
Could I do this?
A tingle zips up my spine at the thought of owning this place, coming here every day, spending my time surrounded by coffee and books and games. It would be a nerd’s haven; they’d come by the dozens, and—
I deflate as reality hits. I mean, what nerds? Only a handful of like-minded people live in my town at best, and somehow I don’t think that’s enough to sustain an entire business.
I set my coffee down with a sigh. “I don’t think so.”
“Why not? We already talked about the business stuff. You can learn that.”
“I know,” I say, tracing my finger around the rim of my cup. “And you’re probably right. But there’s a lot more to it than that. It wouldn’t work in my town. There aren’t enough nerds.” I watch a group at another table as a heated debate breaks out over the game’s rules.
Luke follows my gaze and chuckles. “Yeah, you need the nerds. Have you ever thought about doing it somewhere else?”
I shrug. While I’d spent a lot of time choosing paint colors and imagining the floor plan, I’d never mapped out the practical details of starting this business, because I’d always dismissed it as unrealistic. But now that I’m sitting in this blissful place, I almost can’t imagine not doing it.
“You could do it in New York.”
I choke on a laugh. “You’re kidding.”
“Why not?”
I study his face. He’s serious; he actually thinks I could just move to New York, like, no big deal. As if starting a business wasn’t daunting enough, I could also move to the other side of the planet—to a city that terrifies me—to pursue this crazy idea of starting my own cafe.
Except, it’s not that crazy, is it? This cafe was once the dream of its owner. People start businesses all the time. And this place is busy; four more tables have filled up since the vibrator fiasco. If they can do it, why can’t I?
And as for New York… I feel a nervous sort of exhilaration when I stop to think about it, because I’m not nearly as scared as I was when I first arrived. I might not have conquered the subway yet, but I’m comfortable in the West Village and getting cabs to Luke’s place in Chelsea. I’m getting there.
I glance again at Luke, wondering how he’s managed to do this—to take something that I assumed was a fantasy and make me consider it as a possibility. Despite the din around us, all of his attention is focused on me, on my dream of running a cafe like this.
“Maybe.” Because maybe I couldn’t do this, but… could Harriet 2.0?
I shift uneasily as realization washes over me. I was so mad at Luke for not telling me he was married on the plane, but I lied too. No wonder he believes I could move here and open a cafe. He thinks I’m my fearless alter ego.
But I’m not, am I? She’s a fantasy self I tried on to impress a sexy stranger on a plane because I thought I’d never see him again.
Oh God. I’m a complete hypocrite.
And just like that, all my anger towards him seems unjustified. Especially when I consider how sweet he’s been.
“Luke…” I rub my forehead and exhale. “I’m sorry if I’ve been kind of a bitch to you.”
“When?”
“Just, you know, when I found out you were married and all that.”
He chuckles. “It’s okay. I can understand why you were angry that I didn’t tell you.”
“Yeah, but you’re right—we both thought we’d never see each other again.”
His eyes track over my face. “I’m glad we did though,” he says, and my pulse surges. We stare at each other for one, two, three beats, the air between us crackling. His gaze ignites with something both foreign and familiar, and my mouth goes dry.
Fuck, I can’t take this unspoken thing between us. Not talking about it is making it worse. Surely having it out in the open would be better than this. Anything would be better than this.
“Do you ever think about it?”
Luke’s eyebrows rise. “Think about what?”
“The plane.”
“Are you kidding?” He grunts a disbelieving laugh. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.” The rough edge to his voice makes my blood rush hot under my skin. “And after last night—” he cuts himself off with a shake of his head. “Never mind.”
“Last night?”
“When you were… bent over the kitchen island like that…” He swallows thickly. “I’ve thought about it even more.”
Holy shit.
Molten heat spreads down my limbs, pooling low in my belly. He’s thought about me bent over the kitchen island? I almost can’t breathe at the thought.
Well, I was wrong. Talking about this is not helping in the slightest.
His eyes search mine, as if looking for some kind of answer from me, but I can’t form words. Just when I think I can’t take it for another second, he wrenches his gaze away.
“We should probably go,” he mumbles.
I suck in a breath, snatching up the game and taking it back to the shelves. He’s right—we need to go. I need to get some space from him. Now.