Jamie Pope

Love And A Latte


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sister is amazingly creative. It’s not work for her to create these recipes. She really thinks it’s fun.”

      “Fun.” He nodded. “That sounds like my sister.”

      “We’ve become good friends. I used to work for Everett at another location of Myers. I’m glad they ended up together.” Mariah had fallen in love with Amber’s widowed former boss and his young son and she was truly happy for them. Both of them had faced a lot of tragedy in their pasts, but they were on their way to becoming a wonderful little family. “She mentioned planning a vacation for them all after the Bite of Seattle festival in a couple of months.”

      “She deserves it.” He nodded.

      “What about you? You work hard.” She took a cookie off the plate and sunk her teeth into it. Butter and chocolate. Sweet-and-salty perfection. “Mmm.” She shut her eyes for a moment and just savored the decadent treat. She had worked around pastry for a long time, but the pastries at Lillian’s were enough to make anyone go off their diet.

      “If that’s what you look like when you eat a cookie, then I wonder what you look like when...you do other enjoyable things.”

      Her eyes popped open when she heard Chase’s voice. He was looking at her. Staring, really, and she felt self-conscious. Which was odd for her. Men didn’t normally make her feel that way, but Chase Drayson did. “Do you have any fun summer plans?”

      “No.” He shook his head. “I plan on working.”

      “Working? That’s incredibly disappointing.”

      “Not to me. I like to work.”

      She believed him. He looked like one of those men who lived for the opportunity to be chained to a desk. He was so different from her—who merely thought of a life sitting behind a desk and broke out in hives. “You can’t spend your whole life working. You might explode one day, or worse, look back on life when you’re an old man and regret that you didn’t live your life to the fullest.”

      “You must think I’m a stuffy old son of a bitch.”

      “I don’t,” she said truthfully. Sitting across from him in the dimly lit store, she could see how attractive he was, how tall he held himself, how his clothes fit his hard body The words stuffy and old hadn’t come to mind. “But I think if you spend your life only working and never playing that you’ll turn into one.”

      “I went on safari last year. It was one of the greatest experiences of my life. I live,” he said, his voice kind of low and sexy. “I work hard so I can live the life I want to. If I have any regrets, not enjoying my life wouldn’t be one of them.”

      “A safari?” That surprised her. “I’ve always wanted to do that.” He had a little bit of adventure inside him. Maybe Mr. Workaholic played as hard as he worked, and she found that extremely interesting. “Tell me what it was like.”

      His eyes got this almost far-off dreamy look and she knew he was picturing the journey in his mind. “I don’t know if there are strong enough words to describe it.”

      “Try.” She wanted to be inside his head in that moment. She wanted to be with him as he saw again what he’d experienced.

      “It was a ten-day trip,” he started. “And each day was better than the one before. I went on the Skyline in a tiny gondola to the top of the mountain. You feel like you are literally on top of the world and nothing and no one can stop you from doing anything you have ever wanted to do. The sea is below you, and butterflies and birds are flying around you and there are lizards sunning themselves on the rocks. And you remember that nature is the most beautiful thing ever created and no man or machine could ever make anything as beautiful.”

      “Sounds incredible.” She could almost see it. The way he spoke about his trip, the sound of his soft, deep voice combined with the descriptions kind of mesmerized her, kind of floated around and soothed her. He should narrate a movie. He should tell more stories. He had a beautiful voice even if it was a quiet one and she wanted to hear him speak more.

      “That was just the first day. We went to the Cape of Good Hope and to Boulders Beach to see the penguins. And then there was a tour of the primate sanctuary.”

      “Stop. Just stop before I die of jealousy.” She clutched her heart dramatically. “A primate sanctuary. Please tell me you have pictures.”

      He shook his head, laughing. “Hundreds of them. I didn’t get to the actual safari part yet.”

      “Save it. We’ll need something to talk about the next time I close up and you work late.” As soon as the words left her mouth, she knew she was inviting herself to get to know him better, inviting herself to see him again. It was a mistake. She’d come over here because he was so hard at work and he was her good friend’s brother, who she knew next to nothing about, and she wanted him to pull his eyes off his screen and put them on her. She hadn’t counted on being mesmerized by his deep chocolaty voice or slightly turned-on by the way his lips formed words, by the way his eyes lit when he talked about something he was passionate about. “I’ve got to get home anyway and hit the books.”

      “The books?” He seemed genuinely curious. “What are you studying?”

      “I’m in grad school. Going for my MBA. I’m an artist, or a jewelry designer, to be exact. I’m focusing on marketing and branding.” She lifted the intricately wire-wrapped pendant that was nestled between her breasts. “I specialize in wire work.”

      He grabbed her wrist, lifting it closer to his face and she felt tingles rush up her arm and travel all over her body at his touch. It was unexpected and a little exciting. But it wasn’t the kind of excitement she needed in her life right now.

      “You made these, too?” He studied the gold wire bracelets on her wrists. “This one says your name. I don’t think I’m likely to forget it anymore.” He ran his thumb over it. The sensation of his warm thumb combined with the smooth metal against her skin made her heart beat just a little faster. “Very impressive, Miss Amber. You’re the real deal, aren’t you? I don’t have a creative bone in my whole body.”

      “I’m sure that’s not true,” she said, hoping she didn’t sound breathless. “There are tons of way to be creative.” She looked up into his eyes. “You just haven’t found yours yet.”

      “I guess not.” He held her gaze, never looking away. Those eyes. The way he looked at her. It could make most women swoon. But technically he was her boss and she wasn’t looking for a boyfriend, a lover or any unnecessary attachment.

      She had started this little interlude with the intention of simply being friendly. But it was ending with her feeling more than just that.

      “I should go now.”

      “You should. It’s late.”

      “You should go home, too, Drayson.”

      “I will.” He shut his laptop and stood. “Let me walk you to your car. I don’t want you walking out there alone.”

      “I do it all the time without you, Chase.”

      “But now that I know your name, I wouldn’t feel right about letting that happen. Especially if I knew there was something I could do to change it.”

      Whoa. This man. She might be headed for trouble.

      Chase sat outside on the patio of the little sushi place next to Sweetness Bakery. It was still a little too cool to sit outside and dine this early May day, but there he sat, sipping the warm tea the waiter had brought him and watching the foot traffic going in and out of Sweetness Bakery. He was running numbers in his head. For every three customers Lillian’s had, they had five. Two-thirds of those customers took their purchases to go. One-third of those customers came out with large bakery boxes. It was too