Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

I push off the counter and take the few steps to the coffee maker.

Hannah darts a glance my way as she bends to put a container of food into the fridge.

“What’d you bring for lunch?” My tone is casual, but it still has her biting her lip.

She straightens and closes the door. “Just some leftover Chinese takeout.”

I nod. “Sounds good.”

She narrows her eyes the smallest amount as she comes closer to where I am. “Do you bring your own lunch? Or are you too fancy for that?”

“Fancy?” I grin. “I’m not too fancy. I’m just lazy. Which is why I spend half my paycheck on delivery fees.”

She rolls her eyes at me. “Pretty sure you’d have to be ordering barrels of caviar for that to be true.”

“Nah, the barrels make it taste funny.”

She lets out a little laugh. “Just ham and cheese sandwiches, then.”

I keep my eyes on hers, not missing the way she mentioned it so lightly. “Best tasting thing there is. With maybe one exception.”

Hannah’s gaze drops to my lips.

That’s right, Babe. When I say taste, you look at my mouth.

Clearing my throat, I reach up and open the mug cupboard for her.

We’re a clean energy company, so everything we have is reusable, and some chucklehead thought it would be great to have nothing but bright yellow dishes and mugs. Some have our logo, some are secondhand, some are handmade, but they all have yellow on them.

Hannah wiggles her fingers as she selects her mug for the day, choosing a ceramic one covered in vibrant shades of yellow that was definitely made by hand.

I’m not surprised that’s the one she chose.

Donut Man is paying us no attention, so I stay where I am and watch Hannah make her coffee.

She fills her mug, leaving about an inch of space, then holds the pot up toward me. “Need a top off?”

I dip my chin and hold my MinneSolar branded mug out to her.

She looks at it, seeing that it’s already full, but still tips the pot and adds a splash.

Hannah glances back at my mug as she puts the pot on the burner. “Plain black?”

I lift my coffee and smirk at her over the rim. “Four sugars.”

Her brows jump up at my admission.

“Is there something wrong with that, Miss Utley?”

“Of course not, Mr. Lovelace. It’s just with the whole athlete thing…” Her eyes travel down my body. Before they move back up, I pull my shoulders back just enough to make my chest look bigger. “I figured you more for a no sugar type.”

“Back in my playing days, that was mostly true. But that’s the nice thing about being retired. I can eat whatever I want now.”

She hums and moves to the fridge to take out a short carton of half-and-half, then uses it to gesture around the room. “I’m not sure you understand what retired means.”

“Yeah, well, golf was never my thing. Plus, my buddy and I have a bet going on whose company can get more awards each year.”

“Awards?” Hannah removes the cap from her little carton and pours about a third of an inch worth into her mug.