Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91357 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
When she’d first met him three months ago, after she’d gotten over the fact that he’d arrested her and dragged her down to the police station, their crazy chemistry had taken her by surprise. Although nothing happened between them, the sizzle she’d experienced was one of the things that had persuaded her to end her engagement. If just looking at Sam Marsden awoke parts of her that had been long dormant, she’d asked herself what the hell she was doing with Tyler Stanton, a man with whom sex was just . . . nice.
No matter how good and kind Tyler was, intimacy had been pleasant and occasional. It had never been a priority for either one of them. Maybe it was because they’d grown up together, the expectation of marriage always underlying things, and they were comfortable together, but his kisses were uninspired. And that was what she’d thought before Sam Marsden’s lips touched hers and the earth shifted beneath her feet.
Yep, it had been that cliché. That awesome.
Which explained why she woke up this morning still off-kilter and jittery. She shook her head, trying to clear her mind. She started by reminding herself that she wasn’t looking to start something new when she was still getting over something old. But she was getting ahead of herself with her worries. It wasn’t like Sam had reached out in the time since she’d seen him at Joe’s.
Pushing that thought aside, she showered and dressed, her plan being to drive over to The Family Restaurant. Macy said late mornings were slow, and she could spend some time talking. Since her new friend was in the restaurant business, Nicole wanted to discuss her bakery ideas and get insight.
In desperate need of caffeine, she stopped at Cuppa Café, even before she got in her car and headed across town. She’d yet to fill her kitchen cabinets and refrigerator, but even if she had, Nicole liked to treat herself to a good, fresh cup in the morning.
The shop was nearly empty, with one woman who looked about Nicole’s age, give or take a few years, working behind the counter.
“Hi,” Nicole said.
“Hi, and welcome.” The other woman greeted her with a friendly smile. “Are you new in town?”
Nicole laughed. “That obvious?”
“Only to someone who grew up here. I’m Trisha Lockhart. I own this place.”
“Nicole Farnsworth. Are you related to Joe? He’s my landlord.”
“He’s my brother. He pumps the good people in town full of alcohol and I sober them up or help their hangover the next day.” Her words were light and teasing. “What can I get you?”
“Regular coffee with milk and sugar,” Nicole said.
“Coming right up.”
As Trisha poured her drink, Nicole stepped back to study the items behind the counter. There were prewrapped pastries and assorted other things like name-brand granola bars, but nothing that appeared freshly baked. She wrinkled her nose at the choices.
“Something wrong?” Trisha placed her cup on the counter.
“Not at all,” Nicole rushed to assure her, embarrassed that she’d been caught turning her nose up at the other woman’s offerings.
“You looked like you just ate a Sour Patch or something.”
Nicole shook her head, mortified. “I’m sorry. I was just looking at your breakfast offerings—”
“Pitiful, I know.” Trisha lifted her shoulders in a shrug. “It is what it is. I can’t bake and don’t have the equipment even if I could.”
“Hmm. Well, it just so happens . . .”
“Yes?”
Nicole braced her hands on the counter. “I can bake. And I want to bake; I moved here hoping to find a place to do that, or open my own business.” She met Trisha’s interested gaze. “I have the savings for it, but I’m not sure I’m ready to dive in alone.”
Trisha eyed her speculatively. “I would be interested in bringing fresh items into the store. I’m certain it would only add business.” She shrugged. “Why don’t you drop off some baked goods for me to try?”
Heartened, Nicole nodded. “I will.” She placed money, enough to include a tip, on the counter and picked up her cup. “It was nice meeting you.”
“Same here. I’d say don’t be a stranger, but in this town, no one really is.” Trisha grinned and turned to refresh the decaffeinated coffee.
Smiling, Nicole spun around and bumped into a hard male body. Her coffee sloshed over the lid, burning her hand. “Oh crap,” she muttered.
Ignoring the sting, she backed up, then glanced up and into the same hazel eyes that had starred in her dreams. Sam stood in front of her, freshly shaved, wearing a dark sport jacket, and looking hotter than any man had a right to.
“Oh God. I’m sorry. Did I get any coffee on you?” she asked, embarrassed.
“No. I’m fine. Are you okay?” He lifted her burned hand in his for inspection.
Shocks that had nothing to do with the hot liquid tingled along her skin. A quick look up told her he’d experienced the sensation too.