Chapter One
Joe
“Go easy on me.” The cutest guy I’d seen in quite some time had a voice made for begging. Under other circumstances, this development would thrill me. But it was ten o’clock on a Monday morning, and he was the only thing standing between me and my coffee fix. Also, the guy was actually little more than a kid—early twenties and in college most likely, and he seemed more scared than flirty.
I’d been craving my usual blended drink all morning, but the kid’s big, hazel eyes were pools of uncertainty. I’d seen him struggling the whole time I’d been in line at Bold Brew, my favorite coffeehouse. The place was unusually short-staffed, and this newbie barista couldn’t keep up. His floppy, straw-colored hair and lithe build added to his frazzled vibe. He had long arms and legs that seemed to move too rapidly for the small space behind the counter, making me worried for the items in flailing distance. Sexy collarbones peeked out of a too-small Bold Brew T-shirt, and the strain of dealing with a long line of customers was clear from the tension present in his neck and slim shoulders.
So, I did the only sensible thing.
“Drip coffee to go, black, room for cream,” I requested. My sugary yearning would simply have to wait. Helping the kid calm down seemed more important than scarfing down calories I didn’t need anyway.
“Bless you.” Beaming at me, he showed off dimples that were deep and devastating. Forget his incompetence with the espresso machine, the kid was going to make a killing in tips with that smile.
“No problem.” I plunked down a wrapped oatmeal cookie from the display next to the register. I could still get my sweet fix, and seeing those dimples was more than worth it. “First day?”
The earlier rush had thinned considerably, so I didn’t feel bad chatting him up as he fetched a cup for my coffee. The sunny shop was full of midmorning patrons working on laptops at the tables, and a group of college students with textbooks occupied the cushy chairs.
“That obvious?” He turned back to me, smile turning more sheepish. “First week. I wasn’t supposed to be left alone yet, but there was kind of a cascade of unhappy events this morning. And now, I just have to hold down the fort until Blake can make it in.”
“You’re doing great.” I tried to pitch my voice low and reassuring. My size and deeper voice sometimes intimidated younger people like this guy, so I was trying extra-hard to be nonthreatening. He tried to pass me the coffee, but I shook my head. “Don’t forget the paper sleeve for hot beverages.”
“Oh, you’re right. Damn. I really am an idiot.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself,” I ordered in a sharper tone, forgetting for a moment about being a calming influence. But to my surprise, he exhaled, almost like he was trying to comply, shoulders losing some of their tension.
“Thanks.” Fixing the cup, he gave me a tentative smile. “Better?”
“Much.” Our fingers brushed as he gave me the coffee. He had long, elegant fingers, the kind my mom would have called piano fingers. I smiled back at him, and the moment stretched out. Not an awkward silence precisely, but I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with his gratitude. Eventually, I pointed at the counter. “Now, ring me up so I don’t accidentally walk away without paying.”
“Right. Paying. I’m an id—”
“You are not.” I got stern again before handing over my card. “Find a rhythm that works for you. When you don’t have a team on-shift with you, think about doing order-pay-drink, but whatever you do, it’s all about having a routine in place.”
“Routine. Got it.” He nodded seriously, like he might start taking notes next. I loved his earnestness almost as much as those dimples. “You know a lot. Former barista?”
“Nope. Caffeine addict. My work takes me all over the area, so I’ve seen a lot of coffee places in action.”
Bold Brew was by far my favorite, what with the very inclusive LGBTQ vibe and regular seminars and workshops in the evenings for everything from safe sex to BDSM basics. I’d made a number of friends over the years here, but I didn’t need to get that personal with the new barista.
“That’s cool.” His smile had a certain coyness to it now. If he was working here, he already knew that this place was a hub for the queer and kink community in Laurelsburg, but he’d also undoubtedly been lectured about being discreet with the patrons, some of whom only came for the amazing coffee or were in situations where they appreciated a little anonymity.
And simply because he was on staff didn’t mean he was queer or kinky, so I stopped my brain from wandering too far into fantasyland and tried to concentrate on his next question.
“What do you do?”
“I’m—”
“A little help here?” A tall man behind me spoke up. The line behind me had grown four deep again, so I quickly stepped aside as the kid handed me my card back.
“Good luck,” I called as I put my card back in my wallet and collected my drink.
“Thanks. I’m gonna need it.” His mouth twisted.
“You’ll do great.”
“You’re my new favorite customer.” More dimples. Totally worth the price of bland coffee to see those. And I’d take being his favorite anything.
Chapter Two
Levi
My favorite customer—if I was allowed to have such things in week two of my new job—came in right as the morning rush started to slow. We were back at regular staffing levels, the nasty summer cold that had whipped through the coffeehouse employees defeated, and even though Blake was closer to the register, I slid over right as Mr. Black Coffee came in.
I loved him because he was easy. Easy order. Easy to talk with. Easy to look at. Eyes the color of faded jeans, well-trimmed scruff on his jaw, and the sort of broad build that said he could move a piano or catch a swooning heiress with ease, but still soft enough to be cuddly, without being a muscle-bound gym rat like—
No. Today was a good day. I was not going to ruin it by thinking about my ex. I was going to enjoy my shift, including the three minutes I got to spend with this guy.
“The usual?” I asked with a smile, already entering the order on the register’s tablet screen. His order was always the same, a black coffee with room and one of the cookies on display. “Which cookie today?”
“Chocolate chip looks good.” He grinned back at me. He was older than me by at least ten years, but when he smiled, there was something boyish and charming about him that I found irresistible.
“Day going okay?” I still hadn’t figured out what the guy did. Construction maybe, what with his rugged cargo pants and functional shirts, but he was never dusty like those guys. After grabbing a cup, I turned to fill it from the large vat of drip coffee.
“Busy.” The guy had the best voice. Deep and commanding, but also melodic, like if he were a podcaster, he could do one of those intense relaxation things. “But not bad.”
“Joe! Long time no see, man.” Blake came up behind me right as I slid the paper sleeve onto the coffee cup. Joe. Now I had a name. Good. He looked like a Joe too, all wholesome and down to earth and nice. Sweet, too, the way he was always giving me advice.