Page 51 of Mistletoe Latte

The weak ponytail gave out, causing her hair to tumble to her shoulders. Nick was so close she breathed in the scent of his body. He dropped the cap to the counter, then lifted the towel to her eyes. There was a question in his, but Emma didn’t understand until the terrycloth became flush with her face. Darkness fell. She placed a hand to the blindfold to keep it in place as Nick reached around her head to tie it off.

The naked forearms nearly against her cheeks caused her to gulp. She couldn’t see him but felt the heat of his body almost pressed against hers.

“There,” he said. His fingers slipped through her hair as he stepped back. “Now you can’t steal my recipe.”

The clink of bottles and hiss of steam filled the air. Without her sight, she was vulnerable, but she wasn’t scared. Heat rose around her as Nick bustled back and forth.

“I’m guessing that it requires…coffee?”

“Ha. I’ll tell you another ingredient.”

Emma froze when his warm breath tickled her earlobe.

“Milk.”

She knew she was supposed to laugh at the obvious answer, but her throat was struggling to swallow a moan instead. “Can I ask you about the latte?”

“I’m sorry, but that’s all I’m willing to give away.” He sounded like he was smiling.

Emma turned her head in the direction of his voice. “The legend about the whole—”

“One true love thing? It’s not real.”

“I didn’t think it was,” she said fast because a grown woman shouldn’t believe in fairy tales, magic, and one true loves. “I’m just curious how it came about.”

“Stupidity. When it first went up on the menu, it included the tagline ‘One kiss and you’ll love it forever.’ Meaning drink this and you’ll want more. Thanks to a bunch of coincidences, people took it literally. And this dumb myth was born.”

He sounded like he regretted letting them run with it even though most places would probably kill to have that kind of a legend. Emma could guess why Nick wasn’t as enthralled.

Silence, save the Christmas carols, fell. Emma grew more aware of how awkward she was, worthless and blind while someone else worked around her. She was about to start rocking on her feet when a hand pressed to her stomach.

“Excuse me,” Nick said. With a gentle touch, he guided her to the side. The drawer behind her was pulled open and another clink of a bottle, but all Emma cared about was that palm sweeping around her hip. Once he was done, he helped her right back to where she’d been. God, she had to be blushing as red as a firetruck.

“One last little…there.”

Standing up straighter, Emma asked, “Is it ready?”

“I used to do a milk pour in the shape of holly, but that doesn’t seem important. Hold your hand out.”

She did as asked when a curved and warm mug pressed to her palm. Nick helped guide her thumb into the handle then asked, “Do you have it?”

“I think so,” she said. Taking in a cleansing breath, Emma tried to clear her palate before she took a sip. The heat rushed up her cheeks and nose first, followed by a dark, almost chocolatey roast. A nuttiness danced in the middle, sharper than pecans. Chestnuts? Emma blinked when the final note announced itself.

“Juniper!” she cried out in surprise.

“Damn, most people miss the gin syrup.” Nick sounded impressed. He took the cup out of her hands and placed it beside her.

She tried to play through the flavors on her tongue while thinking. “It’s more complex than I expected.”

“I am a simple man.”

Emma gulped. “That isn’t what I—”

“It’s okay. I know what I am.”

“Any dessert requires nuts. Perhaps a combination of pecans and walnuts to mimic that. And I’d have to keep the sugar low or miss the depth of the rich coffee liquor.”

Nick whistled and she froze in speaking her thoughts aloud. “Color me impressed. Your tongue’s amazing.”

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