Finding Mr. Write (Business of Love Book 5)

by Ali Parker

  She looked good lying there, waiting for me to descend upon her.

  I soaked in the sight of her hair splayed out all around her head and her breasts rising and falling against the neckline of her shirt as she breathed heavily. Not wanting to waste another second, I took a knee on the sofa and lowered myself down for more kisses. I cupped her cheek in one hand and ran the other up her thigh until I reached the waistband of her jeans. Briar trembled as I slipped my index finger under the denim and dragged it across her lower stomach.

  I snapped the button of her jeans open.

  Briar suckled gently on my bottom lip and untucked my shirt from my pants. Her body rolled beneath me and I unzipped her fly.

  We crashed together for more desperate kisses as I slipped a hand into her pants and rubbed her over her panties. She whimpered against my mouth, and her hips worked of their own volition, like she was grinding against my touch.

  She jerked my tie loose.

  I nudged her panties to the side.

  Briar’s eyes fluttered open.

  She stared into my soul and I gazed into hers, wondering if this was really happening.

  Then she froze and a word fell from her lips.

  “Wait.”

  I held my breath. Had I done something wrong? Was I pushing for too much? Was she getting cold feet?

  I pulled my hand from her pants and sat back, giving her space as she sat up with the heels of both hands pressed to her temples.

  She closed her eyes. “I’m sorry, Wes.”

  “Don’t be sorry. I moved too quickly. I was pushing you to—”

  “No.” She shook her head and opened her eyes, but she didn’t look up at me. “You weren’t. I’m just… I need to take things slower. I want this. Believe me. But I’ve made mistakes in the past by going too fast and I don’t want to do that with you.”

  “I understand.”

  “I also didn’t come to New York to find someone to make me whole. I came to make myself whole. I wasn’t supposed to meet someone like you.”

  I wasn’t sure what that meant.

  Briar grimaced and peered up at me from beneath her brows. “Does that make even a lick of sense to you?”

  “Absolutely.”

  If she could tell I was lying, she didn’t show it. Her shoulders slumped with defeat and she raked her fingers through her red hair. It promptly fell back around her shoulders in wild curls.

  I put a hand on her knee. “Would you like me to drive you home?”

  “Yes please.”

  Part of me wished she hadn’t answered so quickly. The night might have been better served if we ended it on one more glass of wine before we went to our own respective bedrooms. Even though sex was off the table, I still wanted to indulge in more time with Briar. I still had questions and curiosities about her. There was so much left unsaid, and with how badly she wanted to get out of here, I couldn’t help but worry that this might be it for us.

  She’d be starting her new job tomorrow, too. Was she going to have time for the rich, pompous author she’d just met? Or would she opt instead to spend her time getting her life together and making friends at work?

  Did I fit into the building of her foundation here in New York, or was I just extra baggage she’d be better off without?

  I kept all my questions and concerns to myself as we made our way to my front door after we both straightened our clothing. I helped her back into her jacket and she wrapped her scarf around her neck. We stepped out into the night which was doubly cooler than it had been when we left Central Park. I shivered briefly and we both made a quick pace to the car.

  Neither of us said anything for the first couple of minutes as we headed back to her part of the city.

  Then, finally, Briar broke her silence. “Even though the evening ended rather abruptly, I did have a really nice time with you, Wes.”

  “I had a good time with you, too.”

  She licked her lips and gazed out the passenger window. I could see her face in the reflection of the glass. Her lips were pursed and her brow furrowed. If I was a guessing man, I’d wager she felt conflicted. Perhaps I’d gotten too into my own head and written a narrative for her that wasn’t true. Perhaps she wanted to stay as badly as I wished she would, but she just had to pump the brakes and slow things down for her own sake.

  I could understand having her guard up.

  “I hope you didn’t feel pressured tonight to do something that felt rushed,” I said.

  “Not at all.” Briar twisted in her seat to face me and put her hand over mine on the shifter. “I mean it. I didn’t feel pressured. I just need some time with my thoughts. I had it in my head what my life would be like when I moved to New York. I’ve been dreaming that dream since I was a girl in high school. And nowhere in those dreams was there ever a man. I dreamed of independence and freedom.”

  There it was. The cold truth. There wasn’t any room for me in this life of hers and it wasn’t my place to hold that against her or beg her for something more. I didn’t want to be the reason she didn’t fulfill her New York City promise to herself.

  We drove the rest of the way in comfortable quiet. Briar was caught up in her own thoughts and I was caught up in mine.

  At ten fifteen I pulled up in front of her new building. It was nicely lit and there was a young couple sitting on a bench in one of the gardens, legs swinging, arms draped around each other, their own travel cups in their hands as they likely sipped on tea or hot chocolate or something of the like.

  I envied them as Briar took off her seatbelt.

  She smiled at me. “Thank you for driving me home. We’ll talk soon, okay?”

  “Briar, if this is too much for you and you need to put an end to things with me, I understand. Just please, don’t string me along. I don’t need you to protect me or—”

  “String you along? What do you mean?”

  “Well, this is over, isn’t it?”

  Briar blinked. “Why?”

  I frowned. Had I misunderstood this entire thing?

  Briar let out a laugh that was more surprised than it was humorous and she reached out to put her hand on my cheek. “I don’t want to end this thing between us, Wes. All I need is some time to come to grips with what this new chapter of my life is going to be. I didn’t plan for this and I’m not someone who can just throw herself into something new and unexpected. If you give me a little time, we can keep going.” Her cheeks turned red and her smile got a little flirty. “Please, can we keep going?”

  “Yes,” I said hurriedly.

  Briar grinned in earnest and pulled herself in close so she could press her lips gently to mine. She tasted like remnants of the wine we’d shared over dinner and the softness of her lips had me remembering the heat we’d shared on my sofa.

  I immediately wanted more but I kept my hands to myself.

  She stroked my cheeks and leaned back in her seat. The leather creaked and she opened the door to step out onto the curb. “Call me, okay?”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  She wiggled her fingers in a farewell wave and turned from the car. I watched her walk up the path and past the lovebirds on the bench. She stopped at the front door, fished a new set of keys out of her bag, and slid them in the lock. After she stepped into the lobby, she looked back for one last wave.

  I drove home the rest of the way smiling like an idiot.

  When I stepped inside my townhouse, my original game plan was to make my way upstairs and go to bed. I could have done with a good night’s sleep. However, there was a yearning feeling that had been growing inside me on the way home. A desire to write so all-consuming spread through me, so I went to my home office upstairs. I turned on the lamp on my desk and sat down in front of the window. The occasional car passed by down below and I cracked a window to have a bit of cool air whispering across the page as I wrote.

  My hand moved from column to column as I filled line after line. The words bled from the tip of my pen like they hadn’t i
n ages. Time blended together and I lost track of the night. Soon, birds were chirping and the watch on my wrist told me that it was quarter past four in the morning. My hand ached terribly but the will to keep going was still there.

  I didn’t waste it. I used up every drop of inspiration I possessed before I made my tired way down the hall to my bathroom, where I had a cold shower to chase away the lingering heat of the moments I’d shared with Briar.

  After that, I collapsed face first on my pillow and slept straight through the alarm that went off three hours later.

  Chapter 17

  Briar

  If it hadn’t been for my experience working at my cafe back home in Waynesville, I would have drowned within the first hour of my shift at Books and Brews. The customers flowed through the door one after the other, and most, if not all, were regulars, so the cashier and the barista knew the orders that were coming before the words even fell from the customer’s mouths.

  That meant I was the only one floundering and doing doubletakes as I tried to get into the swing of things.

  I steamed milk, burnt milk, over-frothed milk, burned my fingers on milk pitchers, spilled milk all over my aprons and shoes, and spilled down the sides of cups that were too full.

  And that was only the list of milk-related errors.

  I’d also charged someone seventy-six dollars for a cup of specialty coffee with extra shots of espresso instead of seven dollars and sixty cents.

  Shortly after that embarrassing blunder, I’d dropped a fresh bag of ground coffee beans on the floor. They were ground so fine that they shot out of the open mouth of the bag like flour, covering my shoes and the bottom half of my pants as well as those of my coworkers, which made me feel like a clumsy oaf.

  Afterward, Mare showed me how to balance out damaged goods. In other words, she showed me how to account for costing the cafe an entire bag of coffee beans, which was twenty-one dollars.

  I quickly realized they wouldn’t be able to afford to keep me around if I kept behaving like a bull in a china shop. So I resigned myself to the only solution I could think of. I slowed the fuck down, took a breath, and stopped catering to the chaotic feeling thundering and cracking in my belly.

  If I was going to learn any of this, I’d have to take it in stride. Customers would have to wait a little longer for their orders while I learned the ropes and that would be okay because at least said orders would be correct—most of the time.

  After my first three hours, Mare sent me into the back room to take a much-needed break. My mistakes and clumsiness didn’t seem to bother her at all and I was grateful for a boss who understood how tough it was to learn a new gig. I didn’t know where anything was, I couldn’t work as fast as my coworkers, and I was truly out of my depth even though I had two years of experience working in a coffee house.

  Books and Brews was a coffee house on steroids compared to my old work, though.

  The back room was a small space with navy-blue walls and plenty of art from local artists in the neighborhood. Mare liked to hang pieces up in the shop and she’d handwritten little price tags under them as well as the address of galleries where customers could go see more art by artists they liked. She was all about promoting local and she believed in ethical business. Word of mouth was a big deal to her and she’d established a loyal, honest, quality client base that came around every day. Several people sat in the front of the house on their laptops going about their work. Others flipped through books and brought in their own copies for in-store credits. Mare handled the coffee and book side of the business like a pro, and as I’d watched her this morning, I’d already started daydreaming about what it would be like to no longer be the new girl.

  This place was pretty rad. I knew that much. I wanted to make it work here.

  Desperately.

  The money would be good enough in theory to support the lifestyle I was building. Mare had mentioned we received a weekly payout of tips that weren’t too shabby and helped all the girls who worked there afford some luxuries that the wage did not. I wasn’t sure what to expect, but I was hoping it would be better than the fifteen or so dollars I used to get in tips every two weeks in Waynesville.

  I changed out of my milk-scented apron and into a fresh black one and put my feet up in the back room. I scrolled through my phone mindlessly and considered calling Riley or Madison just to catch up and see how things were back home, but right when I was about to, the back door swung open, and the same young woman who’d been in the cafe when I dropped off my resume walked in.

  She had earphones in and had three textbooks clutched to her chest. I couldn’t tell what they were for. Her hair was down but there was an elastic on her right wrist and I suspected it was only a matter of time before she put it up for her shift. She didn’t notice me sitting at the communal table until she set her books down. Her eyes widened in surprise and she pulled both earphones out.

  “Sorry, I didn’t see you there!” She had a sweet, chipper voice, and her smile was radiant and youthful. She thrust a hand out over the table and I shook it. “My name is Callie. I’m Mare’s niece. I work here three days a week. I think it’s just you and me working the close tonight.”

  “Hi, Callie, I’m—”

  “Briar, I know.” She beamed. “Mare told me all about you. You wouldn’t believe how hard it is to get good help in this city. Every single person my aunt has hired over the last six months has turned out to be an absolute train wreck and I’ve had to cover shifts I simply don’t have the time for. I’m relieved you’re here. Mare said she has a good feeling about you.”

  “She might say differently after this afternoon.”

  Callie giggled and took her bookbag from her shoulders. She began cramming her textbooks into it and I got a look at two of the covers. One was a psychology textbook and the other was anthropology. There was a good chance she was taking general studies and trying to figure out what she wanted to focus on.

  “Mare has a good sense about people. She knew the others would be flops before she offered them the jobs but held out hope they would surprise her. Lo and behold, they all wanted to go home early, never showed up on time, and flaked on several shifts. They cost my aunt I don’t know how much money. Little turds.”

  “Well, I’m clumsy and I’ve spilled a hell of a lot of milk today, but I promise not to do any of those other things.”

  Callie hung her book bag on one of the hooks near the aprons, helped herself to one, and tied it around her waist. “That’s the spirit. We all sucked when we first started this gig but just you wait and see. After a month, it’ll all be muscle memory and you’ll have your regular clients who want to chat your ear off like the rest of us. I’ll give you tips on who to avoid tonight.” She winked. “Otherwise, you’ll never get anything done and you’ll spend hours talking to Joe Blow about how his mechanic tried to rip him off.”

  “That sounds dreadfully boring.”

  “Exactly. Stick with me, new girl. I’ll get you in tip-top shape in no time.”

  I liked her. She was all fire and fun and I had a feeling right out of the gate that we would get along without any problems.

  I wasn’t wrong.

  Callie and I spent the next few hours at work laughing our asses off about how much of a mess I was and how maybe Mare was wrong about me after all. It didn’t matter. I liked jokes that were at my expense. For some reason, it always made me feel like I’d been accepted somewhere. And Callie was on the ball when it came to cracking jokes about my big feet and clumsy hands.

  Mare left the shop around six o’clock when the rush of the day quieted down and the evening haze settled in. The shop was pleasantly quiet around this time and filled with people reading or sipping coffees across from their dates.

  Callie and I started preparing to close down by cleaning the espresso machine in sections so we could keep half open for customers and sanitizing all the other necessary bits and pieces. Then we cleaned up the rest of the place.

 
I didn’t need much training when it came to that sort of thing. I was used to the process back at my old shop.

  As I pulled up the floormats behind the counters so I could sweep and mop, Callie started closing down one of the registers.

  “So what do you think of the city so far?” she asked as she began counting the float. “Do you like the chaos or are you one of those small-town girls who’d prefer if we New Yorkers were a little nicer?”

  I grinned as I ran my broom under the cupboards. “To be honest, I felt closer to the latter for the first day or two that I was here. Nobody would give me an inch. Everyone was mean and a bit condescending and I was beginning to think I’d never find a place here. But then I made a friend, and then I got a job, and then I found a roommate who I really get along with. I don’t know. It’s all a bit strange how it fell into place really.”

  Callie turned from the register with an arched eyebrow. “Met a friend, huh?”

  I nodded and hoped she couldn’t see me blushing.

  “You’re blushing!” she exclaimed.

  So much for that.

  “Does this friend happen to be a romantic interest?” Callie pressed.

  “Maybe.”

  “Who are they? Tell me everything. I need this in my life more than you know. Having a part-time job and being a full-time student leaves little room for a social life, let alone a romantic one. The closest thing I have to intimacy is alone time I manage to steal with a book.”

  I paused. “What kind of book?”

  Callie held up a finger so she didn’t lose count as she went over the float again and closed the register with her hip. “The romantic kind, of course. I like the vampire ones as much as the next girl but I have a real sweet spot for W. Parker’s work. She can make a girl’s thighs quiver just with words. I’m telling you, that’s real talent right there.”