The white shirt was pooled around Faith and a mass of Christmas lights on top of a pile of dropcloths. She was on her tummy and had the corner of the shirt collar in her mouth.
“I figure we can have this less intimate painting for the downstairs.” He pressed the side of his cheek against mine. “A little painting history of our mistletoe baby every Christmas sounds like a perfect holiday tradition.”
I spotted the tiny sprig of mistletoe in the corner of the painting with Cal’s signature.
“Our mistletoe baby. I like the sound of that.”
“So, what’s next? A firecracker baby?”
I spun around and wrapped my arms around his neck. “What happens if the next baby is conceived on a Wednesday?”
“So, you do want a next baby?”
I shrugged. “Maybe. And I guess a firecracker baby sounds good to me too.”
“And maybe a Valentine’s Day heart?”
“Don’t push your luck.”
He grinned. “I’m never going to stop doing that.”
Thanks so much for reading Ellie & Callum’s story set in our baby crazy town of Crescent Cove.
If our little town intrigued you, we have a ton of great stories set in Crescent Cove. You can find our series page here: https://geni.us/CrescentCove-amz. We’re also in Kindle Unlimited, so we are ripe for binge reading. ;)
About the Author
USA Today Bestselling author, Taryn Quinn, is the redheaded stepchild of bestselling authors Taryn Elliott & Cari Quinn. We've been writing together for a lifetime--wait, no it's really been only a handful of years, but we have a lot of fun. Sometimes we write stories that don't quite fit into our regular catalog.
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Description
I was the black sheep of the family.
Never following rules, always breaking them.
It should come as no surprise that the one man I want is married.
Unattainable.
Every day I see him, and every day he’s wearing that wedding band.
I am no home-wrecker.
Even if my Christmas wish is for him to somehow notice me.
Chapter One
I didn’t love him from the moment I saw him.
Okay, that’s a partial lie.
I did, however, lust over him something chronic.
I would serve him every day, and he would always ask for the same thing—a latte with skim milk, no sugar. He never saw me. When he placed his order, he would do so looking down at his phone as he typed away, then would tap his card to pay before walking away, not even sparing me a glance.
I wanted him.
Even with that wedding ring on his finger.
But I knew better.
I was not a home-wrecker.
No way in hell.
Besides, men don’t stray from happy marriages, no matter the temptation.
Well, that’s what my mother told me anyway.
“Here he comes.” Vicky, my co-worker, nudges my hip with hers.
I look up. His face is serious as he looks down at his phone. He steps up behind someone in line, but this time I am not serving. I’m glad because I can stare from afar instead.
“He is mighty fine. I bet you could bounce a nickel off that ass.”
I chuckle and look down while shaking my head.
“Umm, Rhi,” Vicky says in a hushed voice.
Glancing up, she’s staring in his direction. My head slowly turns, and there he is watching me with a smirk on his face. Those eyes, a vibrant green, lock with mine. His jaw has a slight covering of stubble as if he forgot to shave. His suit—oh, hell yes to the gods above because he’s wearing a suit—is all black and fits his body as if it were tailored and designed especially for him. I want to climb him like a monkey, slip my hands under that suit jacket, and feel the bumps and valleys of his taut chest. He shakes his head, the smirk leaving as he spins around and steps up to the counter to place his order.
Okay, now, I’m officially in love.
“That was intense,” Vicky says.
I look down and get back to making coffee. When I finish making his, I call his name, “Noah.” He walks up to me, his phone nowhere in sight now. I watch, fascinated as he reaches for his to-go cup, his fingers gliding against mine as he takes it.
“Thank you,” his eyes drop to my name tag, then back to my face, “Rhianna.” He smirks again, then turns and walks out the door.
“How hot and bothered are you right now?” Vicky asks, smiling.
“I’m fine,” I tell her, looking back at the clock.
I’m not.
I’m so not.
Noah has been coming in for over six months, and that’s the first time he has acknowledged me. Not that I have tried to gain his attention before. Or that I did this time. But still.
Noah is a mighty fine fucking man, and that’s all I have to say about that.
I went to school with Vicky, and when we graduated, we didn’t know what we wanted to do with our lives. While I felt totally lost and adrift, my sister knew exactly what she was doing, and she got on with it. Vicky and I decided to spend a year traveling. We finally made it back home when we ran out places we both wanted to visit.
That was three years ago. I’m now twenty-two and am still having problems with what it is I want to do with my life.
There is no handbook to help with that shit.
So, I work my days at Vicky’s mother’s coffee shop, which comes with surprisingly good pay and great hours. It’s nothing marvelous, but I don’t have any bills, and Vicky’s and my apartment is small and rent-free since it’s one of my parents’ many properties.
“We still on for tonight?”
“Yes, you finish in a few hours, right?” I ask as I take off my apron. She nods and follows me out the back as I grab my things from the employee lounge. It’s hot in Australia around Christmas time and the holidays are sneaking up on us fast. It’s only mid-November, and there are decorations everywhere, ready for the festivities to begin.
“I’ll meet you at home?” I nod, and then pull my dark hair from my ponytail, letting it fall past my shoulders as I walk out the front with my bag slung over my shoulder. I’m dressed in shorts with a plain white shirt. I have narrow hips, thanks to my mother’s fantastic genes, and dark brown eyes, thanks to my father.
“Rhianna, correct?” I stop at that voice. There he is, standing out the front, casually leaning on the cement wall, his coffee still in hand as he stares at me.
“Hi, yes.” I stop and glance at him.
Noah’s older than the men I usually date. I would say late twenties, maybe early thirties. He has long eyelashes that fan his vivid green eyes. “Is there something wrong with your coffee?” I ask.
He looks down at it, then shakes his head. “No, no issue at all.” His eyes find mine again.
“Umm, okay. I’ll get going then.” I step off, but his words stop me in my tracks.
“I’d like to see you outside of work.”