Coming December 1st at Whiskey Creek Press Torrid - Sweet Treats, Part of the Christmas Candy anthology:
Jenna Sweet owns a coffee shop across the street from Gabriel Horne's trail outfitter store. She doesn't think the ruggedly handsome man had been serious in his flirtations with her, but when an opportunity presents itself to find out, she doesn't pass it up. And the treats Gabe gives her are sweet, indeed.
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“All I want for Christmas is a big, sexy man. A big, sexy man. Oh, a big, sexy man.”
“Would. You. Shut. Up.” Even though she secretly wished the same thing, Jenna Sweet glared at her friend and business partner, Taylor Evans, as the other woman sang the distorted Christmas tune off-key. Taylor was beautiful with a lush, gorgeous body, but she couldn’t sing worth spit.
And the way Taylor constantly teased her about Gabriel Horne… well, she was an off-key pain in the ass.
“All I want for Christmas is a big, sexy maaaaaaaan…” Taylor grinned and winked as the door to the coffee shop opened and the big, sexy man in question walked in. Just as he reached the counter, Taylor finished in a sultry tone, “So I can have a very merry Christmas.”
“Merry Christmas to you, too, Taylor.” Gabriel Horne rested one fist on the glass-topped counter. Jenna stared at that hand for a couple of seconds, heart thudding against her ribs like a mariachi band gone wild. Long, square-tipped fingers led to a broad hand with a smattering of dark hair over the back.
Her gaze traveled up his jacketed arm, over his wide shoulder and turtleneck-covered throat, up to lapis lazuli eyes made darker by the rich royal blue of his shirt. He ducked his head just a bit to put their faces more on eye level. “Merry Christmas, Jennasweet,” he murmured, running her name together as he usually did. “You look… edible this morning.”
His deep voice was rough with the lingering effects of the cold she knew he was trying to get over. Black hair fell over his brow and he impatiently brushed it away from his eyes. The thin scar on his left cheek and the day-old beard darkening his jaw gave him a dangerous, bad-boy look impossible to ignore, and it was getting harder and harder to resist him.
Even though she wore a thin long-sleeved blouse, Jenna felt overheated, like she had too many clothes on. She tried to ignore the hot lust turning her core liquid. Just pour the man’s coffee, Jenna, and he’ll go away. You can get back to your staid, boring, safe life.
“Merry Christmas, Gabe.” Ignoring his comment about her edibility, she poured a cup of hot espresso, then added cocoa, milk, a dash of vanilla extract and a pinch of cinnamon. She topped it off with whipped cream and handed it to him. Glancing out the window, she saw two extended cab pickup trucks parked in front of his trail outfitter store across the street. With Gabe wearing his heavy sheepskin coat, she figured he was readying to go out again. “You’re going out with a group?”
His fingers deliberately brushed hers as he took the cup. Her breath hitched. When he handed her a ten dollar bill, she practically snatched it from his hand, her fingers trembling. God, what was wrong with her? He came into Sweet Treats every morning for his mocha latte and a banana-nut muffin. She should be used to his flirting by now.
But every morning she worked herself up into a tizzy until he came, acted like a blushing schoolgirl while he was here, then kicked herself seven ways ’til Sunday once he’d gone. Even when she’d finally agreed to go to dinner with him—exactly twice—she’d been nervous and quiet.
She just never really thought a man like him, former special ops macho Marine and all that went with it—tall, gorgeous and world-wise—would be serious about a shy little bookworm like her. She didn’t understand what kept him coming back for more of… nothing. Trying to concentrate on getting his change, she finally slapped the bills and coins down a little too hard on the counter.
“Got a group of businessmen down from Denver,” he said, his drawl sending shivers through her as it always did. “They want to go up on the mountain and spend a weekend at the cabin without their wives before, as they put it, the craziness of Christmas begins.”
Unlike Jenna, who’d been born in the North and had transplanted herself in Colorado to run the coffee shop after her grandfather passed away, Gabe was born and raised in Langton, with the Rocky Mountains as his playground. “I could use some company,” he went on. “I don’t want to sit around watching a bunch of yahoos playing poker. Why don’t you come along?”
He asked her that all the time, in the same dark tones with the same hot, intense look in his eyes. As if he really meant that he wanted to spend time with her, when she knew he was flirting. Period. He couldn’t be serious.
Could he?
She shook her head. “Thanks, but—”
“I have to work,” he finished the excuse she gave each time she refused his offer. Leaning over the counter, he slid one hand behind her head, pulling her forward until their faces were only inches apart. “One day, Jennasweet, I’m gonna change your mind.” His mouth came down gently on hers, coaxing her lips apart. His tongue slipped between her lips to slide along hers, stealing her breath.
Copyright ©2006 Sherrill Quinn. All Rights Reserved.
