Page 7 of Pucks and Coffee

“I’ve heard this before.”

“Hear it again, sister. But for real, I’m done.”

“Yeah, right. After you read Krampus, you’ll be looking for a big dude to ram you and throw eggnog on your face.”

“I am appalled,” I snort, unable to keep my laughter in. “And now questioning my love for eggnog.”

“You wait and see,” she warns me. “But for real. I’m sorry your date sucked. Keep your head up.”

“Eh, it is what it is.”

“It isn’t, though. The right guy is out there.”

“No, he isn’t. He got lost in the woods, and Krampus ate him.”

My elder sister giggles at my dramatics. “Nah, Krampus only eats women.”

I roll my eyes at that. “You’re silly. And like I said, it is what it is. I’m done trying to find someone to make me feel something. If he’s out there, he’ll have to come looking for me.”

“He is out there,” she promises, and I’m sure she has little hearts in her eyes. “And if I find him on the side of the road being eaten by Krampus, I’ll save him.”

“Good looking out.”

“Anytime.”

“I love you.”

“I love you more,” she tells me, and the warmth from the safety she guarantees me spreads through my chest. Louisa has always been the mom of our family and will always be a strong pillar in my life. I love her desperately, and I owe her everything.

She saved me when I couldn’t save myself.

We hang up, and I set my phone on the desk to get started putting the books out. Once I get everything set up nicely, I take a picture and send it to Louisa. She sends all the heart and Santa emojis, and I laugh as I tuck my phone into my back pocket. I grab my jacket and head to the front to lock the door and switch the open sign to “Be back in fifteen.” Then I go out the back, locking that door and walking down the alley toward the coffeehouse’s back entrance. I think I’m the only one who uses it, but it’s just so convenient.

Drippy Drip is the only coffee shop in town, and everyone loves it. It’s been here since the town was established, and over the years, their drinks have gotten more modern. They offer my drink of choice, a lotus tea, and my day drags without it. After I enter through the alley doorway, I head down the hall and into the open space. Like the rest of the storefronts in the town of Blitz, Drippy Drip is in a gorgeous brick building with modern gold fixtures. They have sleek black leather couches, super-tall tables with high barstools, and smaller two-person tables along one wall with booth seats. The service area is made of brick to match the outside, a distressed white brick with black accents. A bar is along one side of the service area, and on the other is a display case for all the bakery items.

When I see the pomegranate-orange muffin sign, I fight back a gag. I hate those muffins. They stay in view all over my home, and when I see one half eaten, I know it’s because Ciaran has fed it to Louisa, or the other way around, and they got distracted by sex since apparently the damn muffins are an aphrodisiac for them.

One thing is for sure, I won’t be serving them in my coffee spot.

I roll my eyes, and just as I sit on one of the barstools at the side of the service counter, the kitchen door flies open and in walks a sinful Adonis.

Also known as the owner of the coffeehouse.

Coleson Katz.

The man is sex incarnate. He is built like a tank—with wide shoulders and thick biceps, but then a trim waist with strong, long legs. He has to be somewhere in the 6’3” range, maybe bigger, with an ass strong enough to stop the truck that broke my sister's left side in a wild, unbelievable accident.

Only Lou would get hit by a truck. Only her. But my sister is the last thing on my mind as I drink in Coleson. His dark-blond hair is all over the place, like he’s run his fingers through it multiple times. Jealousy blooms in my gut, wishing it were me running my fingers through the thick locks. His head is shaved on the sides, letting the tattoos that curve up his neck shine. Through the white shirt he wears, I can see shadows of more tattoos, and damn it if I don’t want to trace my tongue along every bit of ink on his skin. But his lips? Man, his top lip is so thick, jutting out in the perfect Cupid’s bow, making him so fucking kissable it’s unfair.

He’s stunning.

Wicked.

And I’ve been lusting after him since the first time I walked in here.

When his bright-blue eyes scan the room, they pause on me, and then he nods at me. “Trying something new today?”

His voice is deep, rough, and makes my insides clench with want. “Nope. Same thing as always.”

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