Sweet Nothings: A Karma Café Novella

by Tawny Weber

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Epilogue

  About the Author

  Sweet Nothings

  A Karma Café Novella

  Tawny Weber

  Sweet Nothings: A Karma Café Novella

  Copyright © 2013 by Tawny Weber

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without permission in writing from the author, except by a reviewer, who may quote brief passages in a review.

  www.tawnyweber.com

  All texts contained within this document are a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events, locales or persons (living or dead), is entirely coincidental.

  Chapter One

  There was delicious, and then there was delicious.

  Crowded around a café table with seven chattering women who looked at her as a combination of their favorite little sister and a kid to be protected was probably the wrong time to fall into deep lust.

  Still, Bianca Snow eyed the golden crust of the apple tart in the dessert display next to her table. Her gaze shifted to the sexy guy across the room. She wasn’t sure which she’d rather nibble on first.

  She shouldn’t be hungry for either.

  She’d just eaten a yummy bowl of rich minestrone soup with a homemade yeast roll.

  So she should be full.

  Last week, she’d been dumped by yet another jerk who subscribed to the idiot mindset that good girls didn’t. Didn’t have needs, didn’t have wants, didn’t have the utter gall to suggest a little hanky-panky after a tenth date.

  A suggestion that’d taken her eight dates to work up the nerve to make.

  She should be jaded.

  But both the tart and the guy were making her mouth water.

  Because the guy across the room was hot. Not in the usual, fancy CEO or snazzy lawyer way so common in this part of San Francisco. Although his pricey shoes and leather jacket said he’d probably hold his own with their income bracket. Sun-streaked brown hair shagged around his face like he’d been too distracted to get it cut. His face was made up of sharp angles, his lips full and even across the room, his eyes held an intensity that made her shiver, even though she couldn’t tell their color.

  Every time he looked at her, she got a tingle. The kind that made her want to walk across the crowded cafe and ask him if he preferred his women covered in chocolate, whipped cream, or both.

  Except she didn’t do that kind of thing. She didn’t approach men, she didn’t ask them out, and she’d never found a guy who thought of her in dessert-terms.

  Dammit.

  “Dessert, ladies?” Anja Karmanski’s smile encompassed the eight women at the table. Or, really since the Karma Café was a small place, the two tables shoved together to seat the noisy bunch.

  Bianca knew Anja wasn’t smiling just because it was her job, or even because she was glad to have seats filled.

  Anja’s smile was simply Anja. Fun, sexy, friendly and a little mysterious. Exactly the kind of woman Bianca wished she could be. Which was saying a lot given that she was usually surrounded by seven strong, independent, savvy women who she wished she could be like, too.

  All related in some way, some were sisters, others cousins even once or twice removed. But each and every one, the Miner women were amazing.

  They’d given her a safe haven when she’d shown up on her best friend’s doorstep with a broken arm, dislocated shoulder and a symphony of bruises. Having finally found the nerve to run from an abusive home at the age of sixteen, they’d opened their arms, their hearts and their home. They’d given her a job, a life, a sense of strength and purpose she hadn’t believed was in her.

  What they couldn’t give her, though, was a confidence. Not in herself as a woman. Between her admiration of them, and her voracious romance novel obsession, Bianca knew what kind of woman she wanted to be. She just didn’t know how to get there.

  Café sounds, chatter and utensils, all muted into a background hum. Around her, her adopted family ordered dessert, talked business and guys, making plans and laughing happily.

  Bianca didn’t join the fun. Instead she stared at the crumbs on her plate and sighed. It seemed like the only person she didn’t wish she could be like was herself.

  Quiet girls like her who looked fairytale sweet didn’t attract sexy guys with a talent for rocking the bed. Or the table, or oh man, a wall somewhere. Bianca poked at her crumbs with a fork, wanting more than anything to be the kind of woman who attracted that kind of guy, instead of ones who thought she’d make a nice Sunday School teacher.

  Even more, she wished she were brave enough to believe she could handle that kind of guy. But she’d used up all her brave years ago. Ever since, she was all about staying safe.

  She stole another glance across the room. The hottie looked over at the same time. Their eyes met.

  Lust washed over her in a sizzling shower. Everything went warmed from her cheeks to her thighs, and all the vital points in between. He was the kind of guy who would accept a woman’s sexuality, encourage it even.

  The kind who said safe was for sissies.

  At least, that’s what the desire pounding through her body told her. It could be wrong. It clearly had its own agenda.

  His stare was thrilling. It kindled answering tingles, sending sparks to parts that had been dormant so long, she’d been afraid they’d need jumper cables to ignite.

  “Bianca?” Anja asked, laughing a little.

  Bianca blinked when she saw everyone at the table was staring at her.

  “I think Bianca’s eyeing herself a different kind of dessert.” Joy gave a little head tilt toward the hottie.

  “Oooh,” the other six women said in unison.

  “Stop,” Bianca muttered as her cheeks heated. Once they all got going, the teasing would last for days.

  “I can see why you’d be hungry for him instead of Gramma Odette’s apple tarts,” Anja said, giving Bianca’s shoulder an encouraging pat. It was like being zapped by an electrical current. Sparks flashed so strong through her body she was surprised she didn’t glow blue. Shivering, Bianca reached up to check her hair to see if it’d curled.

  What the heck?

  “Did you want an introduction?” Anja offered quietly as she glanced across the room. “Or just a little inside information?”

  “Information,” chorused seven women.

  “Introduction,” Bianca insisted, surprising even herself at the brave request. She ignored the worried frowns around the table. They were too over-protective. She knew it was only because they cared so much, but jeez already. Enough was enough. She was twenty-four. A big girl. Maybe not brave enough to face her past, but dammit, she was strong enough to date a sexy guy.

  Wasn’t she?

  The last three guys they’d set her up with had been nice enough. Nice jobs, nice looks, but holy cow, they’d been uptight bores. Didn’t she deserve a little fun? A little wild times with the kind of guy she always read about? Her eyes sought the hottie again and she sighed. A few orgasms while her body was still young. Was that too much to ask for?

  Maybe it was the intense stares of the other women around the table, or maybe Anja didn’t think Bianca could handle a guy who hadn’t passed a background check. But instead of leading the way across the room, the dark-haired
gypsy leaned one slender hip against an empty chair and tapped her finger against her chin.

  “Let’s see... He’s single, I know because my mother has been trying to get me to wait on him all week. Since she’s still obsessed with marrying me off, I’ve been avoiding him like the plague. From what I’ve heard of his accent, I think he’s probably east coast. Mother told Gramma Odette that he’s just visiting, not moving this way. He prefers soup over salad, fruit over chocolate and drinks black coffee by the gallon.”

  “He’s just visiting?” Bianca repeated, biting her lip. The first guy to ever inspire her to move outside her comfort zone, and he lived outside her zip code, too.

  Was that good?

  Or bad?

  “Oh, please,” Joy dismissed. “Like it’d matter if he lived across the street. C’mon, Bianca. You’re not going to hit on some guy in a café. You’re too smart for that.”

  Smart, as in she should know she couldn’t handle a guy like that, Joy’s meant.

  “But she’s obviously interested,” Grace argued. Bianca perked up, smiling at the support. Then Grace continued, “Maybe one of us can go talk to him. Get some information and decide if he’s okay, then Anja can make an introduction.”

  Bianca’s shoulders drooped.

  Why didn’t they fingerprint him and run a credit check, too?

  “This is silly. Bianca, I know the perfect guy for you,” Serenity said, leaning around the arguing women to peer down the table. “He’s a preschool teacher.”

  Be still my heart. Bianca almost groaned aloud.

  “Drinking that much coffee can cause erectile issues, you know,” Rue pointed out helpfully.

  Lovely.

  She decided to ignore them all.

  So did Anja, who was watching Bianca with an odd light in her eyes.

  Unable to meet Anja’s gaze for long. The other woman always looked like she was peering into her soul, so Bianca looked back at the hottie again. He was smiling as he talked to Natalia. And oh, what a smile. It made her tummy do a roller coaster style loop-di-loop.

  Suddenly, more than anything, she wanted to be the type of woman who could attract—and handle—a guy like that. The type who went after what she wanted instead of waiting around and wishing. The type a man would want, would even crave because she was so fascinating.

  And there was nothing fascinating about sitting quietly in the corner, wondering what it was like to live an exciting life. She was never going to get what she wanted, in life or in bed, just sitting around wishing for some fluttery fairy to wave a wand and change her life. If she wanted those wishes to come true, she was going to have to get her butt in gear and start making them happen.

  Even if the idea of doing all of that was a little scary.

  Her eyes locked on the hot guy across the room again. He was perfect.

  Gorgeous.

  Sexy.

  Easygoing, if his chatting with Natalia was any indication.

  And an out-of-towner.

  Temporary yumminess.

  What better guy to try to experiment with.

  With that in mind, Bianca pushed back her chair. She was doing it. She was going to introduce herself.

  As she tried to stand, her chair hit the wall, the seat banging into the back of her knees, her butt hitting the surface again. Her elbow hit the table, sending a glass flying and dishes clattering.

  Face hot, ears ringing with embarrassment, Bianca settled into her seat and stared at her fingers.

  Maybe she’d introduce herself later.

  Had he ever wanted a woman more?

  Jacob Carlisle stared at the black haired beauty, pretty sure the answer to that was a big fat no. He’d certainly never crossed the country for one. Nor had he haunted a café for five days straight in hopes of catching sight of one.

  A woman who, according to all government records didn’t exist anymore. Bianca White had never applied for a driver’s license. She hadn’t used her social security number since she’d run from home at sixteen. She had, as far as the law firm of White, Hunt and Carlisle was concerned, disappeared.

  But three weeks ago, Jacob’s sister had shown him a blog post she’d found on one of her home decorating sites. The article featured an all-female contracting firm out of San Francisco that specialized in amazing wall painting techniques. He had no interest in having his walls painted. But he was fascinated, as his sister had figured he’d be, that one of the women was an old schoolmate of hers, and another looked just like Bianca White.

  A little poking around had netted him the info that Grace Stone had moved to San Francisco a year after Bianca White had disappeared. There was no other connection between the two women, though. Different backgrounds, different schools, and the idea of a White, of the Boston Whites, running off with the daughter of a plumber to live in San Francisco and paint walls and hang drywall was pretty wild.

  Still... Jacob’s gut told him it was worth checking out.

  If he’d been able to get ahold of her home address, he was pretty sure he’d be renting a car and sitting, slumped down in the driver’s seat, watching her front door. All he had was her work address, though. Cottage Caretakers. He’d waited out front a few times, hoping to see her arrive or leave so he could follow, but she always seemed to be in the field. He’d followed one of the women to this café last week and noted that the group of them often met here for lunch. Finally, today, a woman who looked like his quarry had joined them.

  Score! If his career as an attorney didn’t work out, he had a fledgling future as a stalker.

  His altruistic motives had to offset the skeeziness, didn’t they? As long as he ignored the conflict-of-interest face-slam of instant lust he’d felt at the first sight of her, he was still doing the right thing. Because if the woman across the room was the daughter of his good friend and late client, she was also the heiress to a vast amount of money. But Bianca White had ignored the first trust she’d come into at twenty-one, as well as the second at twenty-three. Now, a few months past Bianca’s twenty-fourth birthday and tired of waiting to get her hands on all that lovely money, Lynn White was having her stepdaughter declared legally dead.

  Jacob considered the widow a vindictive, nasty bitch and would do anything—including stalking on his own dime—to make sure she didn’t get her hands on that money.

  It wasn’t a quest to bring money to runaways that had him crossing the country with just a photo and a random comment as a clue. Nope. Lynn White was a malicious mercenary who’d shown her true colors as soon as her husband died. She spent half her time spending his money, the other half hounding his attorneys and trust administrators to get her hands on more to spend.

  As one of said attorney and administrators, Jacob had endured threats, rants, and one time a vase aimed at his head. To be the one to tell Lynn that she’d just lost her claim on all the money left was a bright and shiny dream.

  With that in mind, Jacob gulped down the last of his coffee, determined to confirm that the pretty little thing across the room was Robert’s daughter, then convince her to step up and accept her inheritance. All he had to do was ignore the fact that she was the sexiest, most appealing woman he’d ever seen.

  “Finished with your soup?” a friendly voice asked.

  Jacob reluctantly tore his gaze away from the woman he was obsessing over.

  “Hi, Natalia,” he greeted with a friendly, if I’m charming you’ll tell me everything I need to know, smile. “Best potato leek soup I’ve ever had. Actually, everything you serve here is magnificent. What’s your secret?”

  “Magic,” she said with a wink just as saucy as the soup he’d almost licked from his bowl.

  Maybe it was a California thing, but all the women he’d seen since getting off the plane last week were gorgeous. Including the owner of Karma Café. Tall, willowy and exotic, she had a bone structure that defied age and black hair that fell in a thick wave down her back.

  “You bottle it and you’ll make a fortune,” he assu
red her, even as his gaze shifted back to the rowdy group in the corner. Eight women cozied up to the tables, all gorgeous, all petite, all carried an air of tough independence. But it was the quietest one, the stunner with black hair, who held his attention.

  “Looks like you’re in the market for something other than magical treats.” Natalia sounded more amused than insulted.

  “Well, you have to admit, they are a distracting view.” He gave a what’s-a-guy-to-do shrug toward the table.

  Natalia’s gaze followed, then she nodded.

  “Ahh, yes, the girls from Cottage Caretakers. They do work for us from time to time. My Anja went to school with a few of them. Serenity, Joy and Bianca, I think.”

  Bianca. Bingo.

  Bells rang a triumphant little jingle in his head. It looked like his search had come to an end. The girl in the corner looked enough like the photos he’d unearthed that he’d been pretty sure she was the woman he was looking for, but hearing her name clinched it.

  Then Natalia’s words sank in.

  “Went to school with them?” He looked at the owner again, noting her flawless complexion, solid black hair and slender figure. Hell. “So, they’re what? Still in high school?”

  Natalia’s laugh was rich and sexy, ringing through the café like a hug, making the rest of the diners smile in reaction.

  “Oh, you are a dear boy.” She reached out one smooth hand and patted his cheek. “Anja is six years out of high school, sweetie.”

  He couldn’t hide his shock, prompting her to add, “Don’t bother to do the math. I stopped counting birthdays when I hit thirty-five.”

  “I’m having trouble believing the thirty-five, let alone anything higher,” Jacob said honestly. Again, his gaze shifted to the women in the corner. “But I am glad to know none of the lovely ladies are underage.”

  “Now don’t tell me you’re single, handsome and looking for a date?” Natalia teased.

  “Looking for a special someone, actually,” he admitted.

  Natalia’s eyes gleamed with a calculating spark that made Jacob’s shoulders twitch.