A barista for christmas, p.1
A Barista for Christmas, page 1
A Barista for Christmas
A Contemporary Christmas Romance
J. Hali Steele
All rights reserved.
Copyright ©2023 J. Hali Steele
BIN: 010990-03575
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Publisher:
Changeling Press LLC
315 N. Centre St.
Martinsburg, WV 25404
www.ChangelingPress.com
Editor: Margaret Riley
Cover Artist: Bryan Keller
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Table of Contents
A Barista for Christmas
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
J. Hali Steele
A Barista for Christmas
A Contemporary Christmas Romance
J. Hali Steele
With a lot of hard work, Aspen Ferris’ dream of owning his own coffee shop has finally come true. Unfortunately, renovations are almost complete on a nearby mall that will house a chain coffee establishment. Not only that, Christmas is a few weeks away! When the electricity goes out at the mall, the construction company’s owner visits Asp’s store. Insulting the pushy brute gets Aspen thoroughly told off and… kissed! A kiss he can’t forget.
Dandridge St. Clare speeds to his worksite to handle an electric outage and misses his morning coffee. Locating a place to grab his caffeine fix, he’s offended by the barista at Your Coffee Cup. Anxious and upset, Dan pulls the man over the counter and can’t resist kissing the handsome jackass. On top of that, he enjoys the best cup of coffee ever. More unsettling still, he can’t erase the taste or feel of the man’s mouth. Dandridge returns for more of both.
The holidays are approaching and neither man expects much. Both get more than they bargained for.
Chapter One
Aspen Ferris
Three stores from the corner, a wall of plate glass gave Aspen Ferris a great view all the way to the end of the block. He removed his net cap as he watched a big silver pickup emblazoned with a Rayburn & St. Clare Construction logo tool around the corner, causing a car to slam on brakes in the intersection. Tires screeching turned pedestrians’ heads. “Did you see that?”
“Wow!” Eric Winters, Asp’s oldest friend and partner, gawked over the counter. “Close call.”
“Animals. They’re animals.” Asp finished restocking the sugar packets in the ceramic bowls on each table, checking napkin holders and filling glasses with wooden stirrers as he made his rounds.
“Asp, don’t stoop to the level of name calling.”
“It’s true.” His mood darkened under Eric’s scolding. “They’re stone age he-men.”
“For goodness’ sake. Stop.”
Almost complete, the renovations to the stores in the nearby strip mall included competition Aspen resented. The Bean and Leaf had already opened, and they were hanging dreadfully festive Christmas decorations all over the damn store. Aspen hated Christmas. Morning rush at his shop, Your Coffee Cup, had dwindled to a crawl. Staring out the window brought him no comfort. “Can you believe The Bean and Leaf is already prepared for the holidays? Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away and I haven’t even purchased decorations.” Malls nearer the city were probably alight with holiday cheerfulness and teeming with shoppers Asp had no wish to join. It seemed a trip to Walmart was in his future as he’d volunteered to shop for decorations, thinking it might help him get a handle on his angst regarding Christmas.
“At least business was brisk this morning.” Air huffed from Eric’s mouth. “Get prepared, Asp. It’s our first winter open and people will decorate all around us. I know it’s not your thing.”
Not anymore. Aspen ignored his partner’s hint. “Traffic is picking up. It looks like the whole town is heading to grab a fancy cup of coffee and factory-produced pastry.”
Eric wiped around the coffee pot he had filled before coming to stand at a table near Aspen. “Most travel past here to get on the highway into Philly. You know that.”
“They’re going to kill our business just when we hoped to hire permanent staff.” Open twelve hours a day, six days a week, Aspen and Eric took turns working Saturdays with help of part time high school students. Sundays they were closed. “If we only had a few more months to get established. Why did the section of the building housing The Bean and Leaf have to be finished with its renovations before other shops?”
“Asp, Rayburn & St. Clare Construction provides jobs for struggling families in town.”
“We can’t compete with chain shop prices.” Asp sat on the windowsill. Pulling his legs up, he tucked knees under his chin.
“Don’t put your dirty shoes up there!”
“Sorry.” He settled his feet back on the floor. “Our coffee is better. Richer.”
“More expensive. Lowering prices, we might scrape by until people discover Your Coffee Cup serves the best in town. For now, Asp, we could buy pastries in bulk and forego homemade from the bakery across town. Maybe we should consider staying open later.”
“Your Coffee Cup is not a restaurant, Eric. We agreed six in the morning to get the early traffic and close at two. Now we’re coming in at five to set up and staying after five cleaning up since we serve food until four.”
“Business is better.”
“I yielded to your suggestion of salads and sandwiches along with a soda fountain, but this is a coffee house and we’re green. Doesn’t the environment mean anything?”
“Adding food, I don’t know if we’re just a coffee shop anymore. Our bottom line has improved with regular customers stopping in for meals to take home.” Eric sighed. “Hell, I don’t know if the idea of serving only coffee was ever feasible.”
“Our salads have become popular, and most folks seem to appreciate that our meats are sliced fresh for each sandwich.” Shaking his head, Asp added, “They’ll want French fries and a pickle next.”
“You’re right. We better order potato chips.” Eric laughed so hard, the table he rested his hip on squeaked against tile.
“Smart ass.”
Eric sighed. “If we had a dime for every time someone asked for a carryout coffee cup…”
“Your coffee cup. Bring your favorite travel container or we provide mugs they can use should they remain on site. And we do have carryout cups.”
“Go-green paper cups which sometimes spring a leak before they get out the door. And I’m doubling them to alleviate complaints.”
“I hoped we could make a difference.”
“I hoped to entice more of the workers from the site to at least see what we have to offer,” Eric shot back.
“Last thing we need. A bunch of rowdy construction workers tracking in.”
“If I recall correctly, big with an air of rowdiness is just your type. Anyway, they’ll be gone soon enough.” Eric winked. “Your loss. You need to get laid, my friend.”
“You may be right.” A big pickup truck nearly wrecking, business worries; this morning had taken a toll on Aspen. “Bad timing.”
“Everything is going to work out. I need to grab a case of cups. The lunch crowd will be here before we know it. Chicken and eggs are cooked and ready-to-mix salads. Can you slice the cheeses?”
“Sure.” Sandwiches really had been a great addition. Employees from nearby offices and shops often stopped in to enjoy lunch breaks or grab food for quick evening meals. Another week or two. “The troglodytes will be gone.” Asp glanced toward the back to make sure Eric remained out of sight. He berated Aspen for referring to the construction workers who strayed in as cavemen. He was right. “I shouldn’t insult cavemen everywhere.” Washing his hands and putting on gloves, he reached into the fridge to grab the blocks of cheese.
At least residents of Wayland would gain a closer spot to buy groceries. However, Aspen hadn’t counted on another coffee establishment. Two businesses on main street had closed. Aspen did not intend to join those who had shuttered their shops and left.
Though he didn’t care for Christmas personally, foot traffic would pick up as townspeople strolled in and out stores shopping for gifts. As he was refilling the condiment trays, Aspen heard the door chime. Spinning, he waited as two women approached the counter. “Hi, can I help you?
“Do you have Wi-Fi?”
“Certainly do.” Aspen snagged a card with the guest login in password from a holder near the register. “Here you go.”
She passed the card to her friend who took a seat. “Can I get two medium coffees, please?”
“Espresso or French press? And we also serve percolator coffee.”
“Wow. French press. Haven’t enjoyed that in years.”
“Did you bring your cup?”
“Excuse me?”
“Are you new in the area?”
“I’m on the way to visit my daughter at West Chester University. You do have cups, right?”
“Go-green cups, yes. We have mugs if you drink your coffee here.”
“We’ll have them here.”
“Two mediums coming right up.” Asp drew hot water from the latte machine to use in the French press carafe. The door chime binged again as he said, “It’s close to lunch time. If you’re interested, we serve a great ham and Swiss. Egg salad and chicken salad are both made fresh daily on premises.”
“Oh, cool. Let me check with my friend.”
“I’ll bring a menu with your coffees.” Without looking at the newcomer, Aspen said, “Be right with you.”
“I’m in a hurry. Just want a large black coffee.”
“Hon, I will be right with you.” Twisting to look at the patron, Aspen caught sight of the silver pickup parked at the curb. He looked the construction worker up and down. “Let me finish this order and you’re next.”
“Barista, how hard is it to quickly give me a black coffee?”
“In a sec.” He delivered mugs to the ladies, left menus, and told them he’d be back. Noticing the stranger’s hands were empty, Asp filled a take-out cup with coffee from a recently made pot. He snugged the lid and slid it across the counter. “One large black coffee. Two ninety-five.”
“If the shop in the mall had electricity, I’d be buying there. Service is better.” He placed a five on the counter. “Keep the change.”
“Rude animal.” Words slipped out before Asp knew it. The workman’s truck emblazoned with the construction company’s name blocked Asp’s line of vision and it brought his blood to a boil. “Said I’d be with you in a minute, but you couldn’t wait.” Aspen snatched his net off. He protested with one hand on his hip and the other flailing. “Watched you blast through the light earlier as if you own the highway because you work for that little construction outfit destroying my business. F’ing troglodytes think you can come in here and… and… all you straight-ass hooligans are trash.”
“Aspen!” Oh shit. Eric stared dumbfounded from the kitchen doorway.
“A fucking coffee is all I wanted. Your dissertation on my driving skills is unwarranted. You are something else.” The man reached across the counter and snatched Aspen’s apron, tugging him forward until he had to press palms of his hands against the man’s broad chest to hinder flying across ceramic tiles. “You don’t fucking know me.”
“I know you run red lights.”
The sneer on the bastard’s face flustered Aspen. His temper and cutting tongue had once again landed him in difficulty. Jeez, the man was a customer. Bad morning or not, talking to anyone as Asp had was not acceptable. Hazel eyes darkened to a penetrating forest green as they leveled on Aspen. “Troglodyte?”
Oh, hell!
* * *
Dandridge St. Clare
Fuck, that light was red as hellfire.
Dandridge St. Clare had left home and sped to his worksite after a call that one of the crew had hit an underground wire, leaving the mall and a few other buildings in the area dark. Dandridge had been assured no one had been hurt, but it was important to make certain his staff and the nearby community was safe. When he reached the area, power company employees were already checking things. They assured Dan they could handle the emergency before morning’s end. Not extremely challenging, but another delay in the project set him on edge.
He remembered seeing the quaint little coffee shop and figured he would ride over and buy a cup of coffee while the electricians remedied the problem. Not known for patience, Dan had watched the barista’s ass as he moved up and down behind the counter. Attractive as hell, the young guy sparked something. Just shy of medium height, his hair was the color of dark honey, with brows perfectly trimmed, as was his mustache and close beard. His collar was open and, damn -- hair! The man’s body, beneath a blousy apron, appeared to be in good shape. And the way he moved… his sensuous hand motions accented everything he said. Hell, Dan knew that meant nothing but, shit… Was he gay?
What the fuck am I thinking?
Dan’s excitement clashed with his impatience. Impatience won out.
Angry, Dan tugged until the guy’s upper body rested across the counter. Fuck’s sake. He realized he was in a world of trouble when pretty brown eyes pierced him with a defiant gleam. Christ, he’s beautiful! However, neither the man’s eyes nor his sexy as hell mouth managed to curtail Dan’s rant. “Hooligan I can live with. Calling me trash is fucking low.” The barista’s torso hung over the counter. “And straight? Wrong, bitch.”
No longer caring whether the barista was gay or not, Dan wanted him to know who he was. He leaned close and whispered, “I like sucking dick.” Before his coffee-deprived brain could put on brakes, his mouth covered the man’s lips. The only rational thought Dan could muster was that his cup of coffee might cost more than five dollars. His lips burned from their kiss and if Dan had his way, he would bury his tongue deeper. Shit! Dandridge’s desire to continue kissing the impertinent but handsome son of a bitch was only extinguished when he heard…
“Umm, you should let me go.”
* * *
Aspen
God knew the man would not have stopped on his own. “Damn, did I hurt you?”
“I… I’m fine.” Aspen remained against the counter as he smoothed the front of his apron.
“What were you thinking, Aspen? You can not call customers names.” Eric must have witnessed the whole scene. His voice seemed to come from far, far away. “That was… Christ, Aspen.”
Shaking his head, Asp peered at his partner, hoping to make sense of his predicament. The stranger had released him, but Aspen didn’t budge and Lord, he continued staring. Both gazed as if some weirdly charged storm kept them zeroed in on each other’s eyes. Finding his tongue, Asp mumbled, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to call you names.” He hoped his knees would hold if he moved. He’d been kissed lots of times but never with such masterful force. He made the mistake of looking down, away from the man’s eyes, and then he couldn’t tear his gaze away from the lips that had covered his. Lord, Asp wished they were still plastered to his face. Anywhere on his body would be okay in Aspen’s book. What am I thinking!
“Positive you’re not hurt?”
“Yes, I’m okay.”
“I acted rashly and there’s nothing I can say to make my unnecessary response right.”
Eric spoke up. “You should take your coffee and go.”
“Got it.” He picked up his cup and Aspen noticed both women’s mouths hung open as the stranger walked away. Halting at the door, he twisted to eye Aspen. “I shouldn’t have called you a bitch.” Corner of his sexy mouth lifted. “But I’m not sorry I kissed you.”
The door swished closed and one of the women cleared her throat. “Can we get two ham and Swiss on rye to go?”
“I’ll handle this, Asp.” Eric shoved him toward the back. “You need to go pull yourself together.”
Aspen backed away from the counter and rushed to the office. He closed the door and fell against it as his breath rattled through his open lips. “What the heck?” Crossing the room, he flopped into the chair behind the desk and swiped at his face as he relived the last five minutes.
When he’d initially glanced up at the man, Asp could see he was older. Gray flecked the temples of a head full of darker hair which, when Asp studied further while verbally lighting into him, was artfully styled. His partially unbuttoned shirt wasn’t what any worker would wear to a construction job. Thick, unruly salt-and-pepper hair peeked above buttons. Aspen recalled the scent that had filled his nostrils. Citrus and sandalwood. Fresh and clean. The scent invaded his lungs again when he sniffed his hands. The strong arms that had drawn him forward were not an old man’s. The pecs the palms of Aspen’s hands had pressed against had presented a solid wall of muscle. Asp, though small, was physically fit, yet the larger man could have easily taken him.
