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Berries and Cream Chai (Cupid's Coffeeshop Book 6)

Page 4

by Hunt, Courtney


  “Hard to sail up to the vineyard on your big boat, huh?” Patrick looked at him, sympathy in his eyes. “If you just want to stay for the wine, I’m sure she’ll send you a bottle.”

  “No, I want to stay with Molly which is ridiculous. We’ve never even…” Joe trailed off with a wave of his hand.

  “So grab her and kiss her.”

  “I did that.” To his endless and undying mortification, Joe blushed. Ducking his head, as the heat poured off his cheeks, he stared at the floor instead of at his cousin’s all too perceptive eyes.

  “And she didn’t kiss you back?” Patrick asked. Joe shook his head. “She slapped you? She’s got a boyfriend? She’s engaged? Are you enjoying this fun game of twenty questions?”

  “Not really.” Joe snapped, raking his hand through his hair.

  A slow smile spread over Patrick’s face. “You’re terrified.”

  “It’s being tied down. I don’t think I can do that. I can barely stand being tied down here.”

  “But you’re doing it.” Patrick answered. “Do you really love your drifter existence all that much or is it just a habit?”

  “I did. I do.”

  “More than Molly?”

  “I don’t…I’m not…” Joe shook his head, horrified. “I’ve never…”

  “You sure about that, Joe?”

  “I’ve only known her a week. Things like that don’t happen in a week.” Joe protested.

  “Really? After all the couples you’ve seen pair up in here, you really think that?” Patrick shook his head. “Maybe this coffeeshop really is magic.

  Joe thunked his head on the display case. He wanted to go see Molly. But, after kissing her and how electric they were together, he knew they couldn’t be just friends. And if they couldn’t keep it to just friends, they’d end up in bed. And then Joe would mess it up. He had no relationship experience. He couldn’t handle seeing the disappointment in Molly’s eyes when he inevitably failed her. But was it better to at least try? To have her for however long he could?

  “What can I get you?” Patrick asked someone.

  “I thought I’d try one of your famous Berries and Cream Chai.” That was Molly’s voice.

  Joe lifted his head. She wore a clingy dress in a hunter green that skimmed her curves. Her hair, instead of being a wild nimbus of dark curls around her face, was up in a twist and she wore silver drops at her ears. She’d done some magic with makeup to make her eyes even more green and her lips soft and shiny. Joe swallowed hard, staring at her, sure that his imagination and desperate wish to see her had willed her into being here.

  “Hi, Mollypop.” Joe said. Instead of the carefully casual tone he strove for, it came out like a croak, like a thirteen-year-old who’s voice had just changed. Patrick looked from Joe to Molly and back again.

  “You must be Molly. Joe’s been telling me all about your farm.” Patrick said, with a charming smile that Joe had definitely never seen before. Molly shook his hand and they chatted for a few moments. Who knew Patrick could be charming? Patrick made Molly her drink and handed it to her. Joe still hadn’t managed to say anything. Where had his famous flirtation skill gone? Molly looked uncertainly at him and then, after thanking Patrick for the drink, headed out of the shop.

  “What are you doing? You’re just going to let her walk out of here?” Patrick hissed to him. “Go!”

  After a second’s hesitation, Joe pounded into the square after her. He caught up with her but when she turned to face him, he realized he had no idea what to say. He swallowed hard again. She broke the silence and said, ”You were right. This is delicious.”

  Joe walked closer to her, shoving his hands in his pockets not to reach out and pull her close. “Do you want to go get a drink or something…no wait, you have a drink…do you want to get dinner?”

  “It’s ten in the morning.” Molly scrunched her nose up at him.

  Joe raked his hand through his hair and scrubbed his palms over his face. “How about a movie?”

  “Are you alright?” Molly looked at him with some concern.

  “How to people do this?” Joe groaned. “I don’t really date.”

  “Okay.” Molly blinked at him.

  “But I’d like to date you.”

  “Are you trying to ask me out?”

  “Yes.” Joe nodded. “Do you want to get dinner or go to the movies or something…”

  Molly tiled her head to the side and then slowly shook her head. Joe sucked in a breath, not really feeling the pain yet. “Oh, okay, you just want to be friends, right? That’s good too. That’s great.”

  “No, I don’t want to be friends.” Molly stepped forward and leaned close to whisper to him. “I want to go back to the willow tree beside the creek and to finish what we started. I want to stand next to you in a hot berry patch, for hours, just so I can hear your stories. I want to see where we are in a week, in a month, in a year. I want to see what we can create together.”

  “I don’t want to be just friends with you.” She leaned back to look him in the face. “I want to be friends and lovers.”

  “We’re not lovers yet.” Joe whispered. Heat flashed through her eyes, lightening through a summer storm, and she brushed her lips over his, tasting of blackberries and sugar and the promise of a bright future together.

  “That’s easily remedied.” Molly whispered against his mouth, claiming him for a deep kiss.

  And just like that, Joe Lockhart knew he’d finally found home.

  Chapter Nine

  Several weeks later…

  “Sorry I’m late, honey.” Joe called, as he entered through the front door of the farmhouse on the last day of June. He’d traded shifts with Patrick just so he could be here to celebrate mid-year’s eve at home with Molly. His girl. He stepped into the welcoming cool shade of the foyer and inhaled the comforting scent of lemon and lavender. He tossed his keys on the table and walked down the hall to the kitchen. “I finally settled on my drink for July. Fireworks Frappe. Patrick won’t let me serve it with a sparkler though.”

  “That Patrick. Such a killjoy.” Molly laughed, her back to him as she fussed at the oven. She wore a blue sundress sprinkled with white flowers and her hair piled on her head to escape the heat. Joe pressed his lips just at the nape of her neck, wrapping her in his arms as he breathed in the scent of her. Home. “Who cares about the injury potential, right?”

  “Please don’t start talking about insurance premiums or deductibles. I heard enough about that this afternoon.” Joe said, as he stepped away to arrange a bouquet of wildflowers in the chipped blue enamel pitcher Molly used as a vase. He set the vase on center of the red and white checked tablecloth on the wide kitchen table. Molly handed him the empty mixing bowl, keeping the chocolate covered spatula for herself. She licked the thick chocolate from the spatula, smearing a bit on the corner of her mouth. Joe tossed the bowl on the table and leaned over to steal a kiss.

  Molly tasted like chocolate and sin and every delicious thing he’d ever imagined. Her lips softened under his as she wound one arm around his neck and ran her fingers into his hair, pressing her soft curves against him. They stumbled back into the table before he slid his hands slowly to her waist. The kiss turned heated, urgent, and needy.

  Joe lifted her to sit on the central island, still kissing her, starving now for something even more elemental than food or air. He wanted Molly, desperately, frantically, needing to connect with his mate, his other half, on the most primal level. Somehow, Molly had become essential to him, in a way that no other woman ever had.

  She broke the kiss, tossing the spatula into the sink and tugging his t-shirt over his head. Slowly, she ran her fingertips down his chest, sparks trailing in her wake. She caressed lower, making his muscles twitch in anticipation of her touch. He shivered, as desire surged through him. He tugged her to the edge of the counter, pressing against her, hot and ready, mouthing kisses along the tempting skin of her throat and tracing the constellation of freckles on
her shoulder with his tongue.

  His hands shook as his palms skimmed up her thighs, gathering the hem of her dress as he went. He found her bare underneath and groaned against her shoulder. She chuckled, throaty and low, before whispering, “It’s too hot for underwear, don’t you think?”

  Joe nodded against her, tugging the strap of her sundress down, to reveal the tops of her luscious breasts. He mouthed at one rosy nipple and then the other as his fingers danced around the molten heat of her, hotter than any summer. She opened for him, willing, ready, his.

  Slowly, she unbuttoned his jeans, sliding her hand into the gap she made and wrapping firmly around him. After only a few weeks as lovers, Molly knew just how to touch him to make him fall apart in her arms. What would they be like after years together, years to get to know each other and to fall deeper in love every day?

  She wiggled against him, her strong thighs bracketing his hips, as he thrust deep, once, and then again. Then he lost count and just lost himself to sensation, the sheer wonder of loving his mate, his girl, his Molly. Her breathy little cries as she welcomed him just made him crave her more. He could never get enough of this one woman, wrapped around him, body, heart, and soul.

  He opened his eyes to find her wondrous eyes on his, hazy with need for him. Joe groaned her name, still stunned at the connection between them, how different sex was when infused with soul-deep love and this profound connection. She fluttered around him, her release bringing his own as he thrust one final time and let himself surrender to the bliss.

  The kitchen timer brought them both to their senses. Molly nudged Joe aside and, after donning bright orange oven mitts, pulled out a pan of brownies. Joe, his knees still weak from his release, managed to right his clothing and leaned against the counter, watching Molly secure the covered brownies in a basket. She handed it to him and they headed outside, into the muggy dampness of late afternoon.

  Together, they walked through the orchard, stopping to laugh at the antics of a pair of bunnies chasing each other through the brush. Hand in hand, they made their way to the side of the creek, shaded and cool under the willows in the gathering twilight. She shook out the blanket she held and they sat, chatting easily of the day. They enjoyed a meal of thick sandwiches and sweet berry tea.

  After they ate, Joe braced his back against the tree trunk and gathered Molly in front of him, his arms loose around her waist. Their heartbeats synced as they just breathed together, surveying the farm and the vineyard they dreamt of, content and safe in each other’s arms. As the darkness gathered, the fireflies flicked on, pulsing like tiny yellow stars in the night. Joe smiled and brushed a kiss over Molly’s dark hair, happy and content to finally be home.

  THE END… I hope you enjoyed Berries and Cream Chai. Please give this book a quick review on Amazon. Even just a two-word review helps so much. Positive or negative, I am grateful for all feedback from my readers.

  July’s story, Fireworks Frappe, is available for pre-order now. Order it here.

  Growing up, Ava Lane swore she’d never come back to the tiny town of Ashford Falls or the man who shattered her heart, firefighter Duncan Knight.

  Unfortunately, after losing her high-powered job on Wall Street, Ava doesn’t have anywhere else to go.

  As she struggles to figure out her comeback plan, can she escape without being singed by love in July’s Fireworks Frappe?

  While you are waiting for more Cupid’s Coffeeshop, please check out my other novels, including The Lost Art of Second Chances and the Always a Bridesmaid series.

  Please come visit me at www.Courtney-Hunt.com and sign up for my email newsletter. No spam! Just new releases and other big news.

  Thanks again for your support!

  Author’s Note

  You won’t find Ashford Falls if you consult a map. It’s a fictionalized version of Leesburg, Virginia. Located about 40 miles west of DC, the sleepy tiny town has become a bedroom community full of new development. But the heart of the old town is still there, tucked into the shadow of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Sadly, Cupid’s Coffeeshop does not exist at all, except in my imagination.

  Thanks to my editor, R.A. Peters, for catching all my terrible mistakes and correcting my dreadful formatting. Also many thanks to Kim Killion of the Killion Group for my gorgeous covers and designing the Cupid’s Coffeeshop logo.

  I hope you’ve enjoyed reading the sixth story in the Cupid’s Coffeeshop series as much as I enjoyed writing it. Please check out my series page on Amazon for each new release. You can also find merchandise, illustrated quotes, and blogs about Cupid’s Coffeeshop on my website at www.Courtney-Hunt.com

  Please come visit me at www.Courtney-Hunt.com and sign up for my email newsletter. No spam! Just new releases and other big news.

  I’m also usually found on twitter at @courtneyhunt71, and would love to chat!

 

 

 


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