Berries and Cream Chai (Cupid's Coffeeshop Book 6) Read online

  Joe lay on his back, spattered with mud from head to foot, blackberries scattered around him, blinking slowly. A pair of chipmunks darted out from the bushes and stuffed their cheeks with the fallen berries, chittering happily. She put out a hand to help a still slightly poleaxed Joe up but she laughed too hard to be any effective help.

  “You’re not hurt, are you?” Molly finally managed to gasp.

  “Just my pride.” Joe answered, still holding her hands. She peeked over his shoulder at the thick mud that covered him from the back of his head to the soles of his boots. A single rivulet made its way from his temple down his cheek. Their eyes met and held for a heartbeat, then another as awareness shimmered to life between them. Joe licked his bottom lip as Molly watched mesmerized, everything in her tightening. She wanted him to kiss her, more than she’d wanted anything in rather a long time. But kissing Joe wouldn’t end well.

  Oh, it might end well in the moment. Molly was sure Joe would show her a very good time. But she’d risk losing her budding friendship. And, much as Molly might like to indulge in a good time with Joe, she’d rather have a friend. No matter what her traitorous body might think. She tugged her hands free and carefully retrieved Joe’s bucket.

  “Look, there’s some left.”

  “Yeah, but it’s not nearly enough.” Joe sighed and set back to work, leaving Molly to ponder whether friendship would be enough with this captivating man.

  Chapter Six

  When Joe had imagined getting naked at Berry Hill Farm, it was not peeling off clothes so covered in mud that they stood on their own, wrapping himself in a towel on the back porch, and dashing to the guest room shower. In the shower, he leaned his head again the tile, closed his eyes, and groaned. Had he really fallen in the mud right in front of her? He hadn’t experienced this big of a disaster with the opposite sex since he tried to ask Mary Beth Michaels to the sixth grade formal, with Patrick snickering behind him.

  Flirting came reflexively to him. He knew he was handsome, though he took no credit for an accident of birth. Still, it didn’t mean he wouldn’t use it to his advantage. Chatting with pretty girls was as easy as breathing. As his grandmother used to say, Joe could talk the ears off a potato. And, once he’d gotten older and grown into his looks, he pretty much could have any girl he wanted with a crook of his finger. And he pretty much had.

  But now, he really liked Molly. He looked forward to chatting with her. He’d even confided in her about his dad. They’d strayed off his usual empty chit-chat and patter, the surface conversation that kept people from getting too close or from seeing the real person inside. In the past few days, they’d become friends.

  Joe didn’t really have friends. Since he and his mom left Ashford Falls, they’d wandered for a bit until she met her husband. After a whirlwind romance, his mother settled down, happy in her role as trophy wife to a realtor nearly 30 years her senior. Joe finished high school in Florida, where his mother’s new husband barely tolerated his wife’s “youthful indiscretion.” Once he graduated, Joe drifted from place to place, never setting down roots or making ties. And feeling the lack.

  Now, he’d been in Ashford Falls nearly nine months. Other than his final year of high school in Florida, he’d never lived in one place so long. And slowly, despite his best efforts, he seemed to be developing some roots in the small town. So far, he’d rekindled ties with Patrick and Zooey and he found, even as Patrick drove him crazy, he was grateful for it. And now, he had Molly as a friend. Roots. Anchors. Ties.

  He’d nearly kissed her, when she was laughing up at him, her leaf green eyes sparkling. She truly was lovely, a beautiful person inside and out.

  And that’s why Joe needed to keep his hands to himself. For the first time in his life, he wanted a friendship with a woman more than he wanted a quick release and an even quicker exit.

  Well, Joe admitted to himself maybe not more than the physical. Molly was lovely after all. But equally. And that alone was a first for him.

  He just wasn’t quite sure what to do about it.

  He finished showering and dressed in the spare jeans and t-shirt he kept in his saddlebags. He raked his hands through his wet hair. After using her soap in the shower, he recognized the honey lavender scent on his skin from Molly. Comforting and homey but not overly sweet. Like the woman herself.

  Molly’s guest bathroom didn’t tell him much about her. She’d offset the gleaming white tile in shades of aqua, a simple seascape as the only decoration. He walked into the hallway. A glance in one bedroom revealed a messy home office, mostly still in boxes from her recent move. He peeked in the guest bedroom, with a small bed covered neatly by a blue and yellow quilt. All he glimpsed of her bedroom as he walked down the stairs was a wide bed, covered in a quilt done in shades of red, with a large window revealing the mountains beyond.

  Joe walked downstairs and found Molly in the kitchen. She handed him a tall glass, frosty with lemonade garnished with mint, a plate of cookies on the counter. Joe took a seat at the counter, reminded strongly of the feeling of welcome of his grandparents’ kitchen. Maybe it was the warm red touches. Or maybe it was just being with this woman that made him feel at home in a way he hadn’t in years, if ever.

  “Feeling better?”

  “Thanks so much for letting me shower. Patrick would never have let me hear the end of it.” Joe smiled at her and sipped his lemonade.

  “You won’t tell him?” She grinned back, leaning on the kitchen island opposite him.

  “No way. He’d be merciless with the teasing. Pay back for all the teasing I’ve done about his crush.”

  “Patrick has a crush? Tell me more.” Molly put her chin in her hand and smiled at him. Joe’s heart did a funny little lurch in his chest. Patrick wasn’t the only one with a crush.

  “Her name is Joy. She does the baking for the store and they flirt every morning over the cookie delivery.”

  “Oh, that’s such a cute way to meet.”

  “Yeah, except for the whole she’s engaged to someone else part.”

  Molly made a face. “That’s a terrible ending to the story.”

  “Believe in happy endings?”

  “I do.” Molly said. “At least, I hope for them. And you do too.”

  “I do?”

  “Didn’t you tell me that you own a magic coffeeshop?”

  “I said some people believe I own a magic coffeeshop.” Joe bit into a lemon cookie, enjoying the tangy burst on his tongue. “I don’t necessarily believe it.”

  “Says the man who brags about owning a magic coffeeshop.” Molly laughed. Joe loved her laugh, rich and true. “I love hearing your stories about everyone at the coffeeshop. I feel like I’ve met them all already.”

  “You can, you know. Ashford Falls isn’t the other side of the ocean or anything. Come into the shop. I’ll introduce you.”

  “Will I get to meet the handsome, love-sick Patrick?”

  “I don’t know about handsome but you can meet my pain-in-the-butt love-sick cousin, if you want. Zooey too.” Joe’d never had anyone to introduce to his family before. He found he quite liked the idea of introducing Molly to his cousins. She’d fit right in.

  “Maybe I will sometime.”

  “Come tomorrow.” Joe said, his heart beating faster at the idea of seeing her at the shop. Maybe he could ask her to grab a sandwich with him? What was he thinking? He didn’t date. And hadn’t he just decided that he wanted to be friends with Molly instead of ruining everything by trying to tangle it up with romance?

  “I can’t tomorrow. Gotta go to the farmer’s market in the morning and then come back here to wait for my non-existent pick-your-own customers.”

  Inspiration struck Joe. “What if I brought the truck by?”

  “The coffee truck?”

  “Yeah, I don’t usually take it out on the weekends. But I could let the coffee hunkettes know I’d be here. Maybe that would scare up some business.”

  Molly blinked at him. “You wouldn’
t mind?”

  “You’ve helped me all week with the berries. I wouldn’t mind.” Joe smiled at her, very aware of his heart thumping in his chest.

  She smiled him, brilliant and bright. Joe suddenly realized he’d do just about anything to see that smile. He finished his lemonade in one quick gulp and headed for the door, before he did something foolish like taste that gorgeous smile. “Gotta get to my shift or Patrick will be unbearable. See you tomorrow, Mollypop.”

  Chapter Seven

  Just as the sun tipped toward the horizon the next day, Joe watched Molly close the gate on the last car. Though he couldn’t call it a crowd, they’d done a steady business all afternoon, with a fair few pick-your-own customers hauling away more zucchini than he’d ever seen in one place. She turned and beamed at him. He gave her a thumbs up, smiling in return, her joy infectious.

  He climbed out of the truck and she flung her arms around his neck. He caught the scent of wildflowers as her soft hair brushed his cheek. He wrapped his arms around her waist, enjoying the feel of her soft, warm curves against him. All too soon, she stepped back, still smiling up at him. “Joe, thank you so much.”

  “I didn’t do anything.” Joe said, his voice raspier than usual. Before he leaned down to drop a kiss on her soft, inviting mouth, he headed over to the porch and grabbed a bucket. He’d need to hurry to get today’s blackberries picked and back to the shop before his shift. With driving the truck at lunch, picking berries with Molly in the afternoon, and closing the shop, he’d been working flat out for over a week. He told himself that the hot, achy feeling was just exhaustion, rather than the deep lust he felt for Molly.

  “I’m so thrilled. It’s finally working.” She trailed along behind him, chattering happily over all her customers. “Look! They picked almost all the zucchini.”

  “At least you didn’t have to pick all that zucchini by yourself.” Joe’s stomach rumbled loudly, reminding him that he’d forgotten to eat lunch again.

  “Are you hungry? I can make some sandwiches or something.” Molly offered.

  “I gotta get back to town. Work my shift.” Joe smiled. “But thanks.”

  “You still have to work at the coffeeshop tonight?”

  Joe shrugged. “Patrick’s been working since before dawn. Zooey took the mid-day shift. It’s my turn.”

  “Don’t you have employees?”

  “A few. High school kids mostly. But it’s mostly me, Patrick, and Zooey.” Joe said. “Just like you do it all here.”

  “Go pick your berries and I’ll make you a sandwich, okay? You need to eat.”

  Joe made quick work of harvesting the berries. Though he tried to deny it, the patch was nearly picked over. There wasn’t much left here at Berry Hill. Soon enough, June would be over and he’d have no excuse to come here. He’d miss seeing Molly every day. He’d come to depend on their conversation, on seeing her, laughing with her. In fact, he was closer to her than anyone, even Patrick and Zooey. How had that happened so quickly?

  A soft clink of glass behind him made Joe turn to see Molly standing there, a blanket in her arms and a canvas tote bag over her shoulder. “Want to see my favorite spot on the farm?”

  “Sure.” Joe’s half-full pail of berries would have to be enough for today. He followed Molly back through the vineyard. They entered a glen, on the far side of the orchard, the air cool and dark after the brightness of late afternoon. Inside the glen, sound hushed, until only the chittering of woodland creatures and the trill of birds remained. A quiet splash sounded as they came to the edge of a small brook, lined with several lovely old willow trees. The late afternoon sun turned the water to crimson, orange, and mango ribbons. A family of ducks cruised past, quacking happily. Molly tossed bread to them, smiling at their antics.

  “It’s lovely, Molly.” Joe said, looking at her, trying to imprint this memory on his heart.

  “Sometimes, I’ll come up here and just sit for hours, enjoying the quiet.” Molly confided. Joe picked up a few pebbles, skipping them across the water. Gently, she tugged the branches of a willow tree apart to reveal a hidden hollow. She stepped inside, beckoning Joe after her. He stepped under the branches to find that the willow created a natural green tent. “Looks like a fairy tale.”

  Molly shook out a large picnic blanket over the ground. He sat next to her, their shoulders pressing together as they watched the ducks play. He drew a deep breath, enjoying how content she felt, how peaceful it felt to sit here, in her favorite spot, with Molly beside him. She handed him a thick sandwich, ham and cheese with spicy mustard and a bag of chips.

  “So, when I bought this place, it came with a few bottles of wine, from the vineyard.” She tugged a slim green bottle out of her tote along with a corkscrew.

  “You sure you want to open it?”

  “I figured that I’d save it for special occasions. But I think my first successful day counts as a special occasion.” She pulled two small mason jars out of her bag before opening the bottle and pouring a measure into each glass.

  “Cheers.” They both sipped their wine. Joe enjoyed the rich taste of the vintage, with hints of blackberries mingling with the grapes as he made quick work of the lunch she’d packed. Without a word, she handed him the second half of her sandwich, their fingers brushing. “It’s delicious, Molly. You’ll be a smashing success.”

  “It’ll be at least three years before I’ll have my own, maybe five, but I can see it so clearly.”

  Joe could too. He could imagine this farm and vineyard as a thriving place, full of life and hope and promise. He wanted to be there to see the vineyard blossom and taste the first wine. He’d never wanted to stay in one place before and now, Molly enchanted him, like a fairy queen come to life.

  He turned his head to Molly just as she turned toward him, the rays of sun gilding her face and her dark curls, making her look even more mystical. Their eyes met and held, awareness flowing between them. And then, without either of them seeming to make the first move, they kissed, a slow, soft exploration, full of potential. She tasted of sweet wine and berries. He delved deeper into her mouth, chasing the taste of her, exploring her just as she did him.

  And Joe hadn’t had to do anything to make it happen. He hadn’t had to unleash his best moves or seduce her into it. They’d just been drawn to each other, their emotional connection lending an unstoppable force to their certain collision. This kiss had been inevitable, from the moment he swung his bike toward Berry Hill farm, maybe for much longer than that, if you believed in destiny or fate. There was passion there, under a soul-deep recognition, a rightness. Over the years, he’d been physically intimate with scores of women, but he’d never shared this emotional closeness with any of them. Molly wrapped around his heart tighter than her vines. He’d never known the way a kiss could be both his undoing and his homecoming all in one. Somehow, she’d rearranged his world and captured his heart.

  They broke apart, staring at each other, both breathing raggedly. With just a simple kiss, she’d shaken him to the core. She bit her lower lip and moved away. “I guess you’ve gotta get to your shift.”

  And just like that the spell was broken. Joe nodded and stood. He folded the blanket while she gathered the glasses. Without speaking, they headed through the orchard before he climbed into his truck and waved farewell, wishing he could stay instead.

  Chapter Eight

  “Joe, we need berries.” Patrick greeted Joe the following Tuesday mid-morning, during the lull between the morning rush and lunch, when Joe stumbled down the stairs for his first cup of coffee.

  “I can’t go get them.” Joe filled a coffee cup and took a deep gulp of the too hot liquid. After another sleepless night about Molly, he needed all the caffeine he could get.

  “Why not?”

  “I just can’t. That’s all.” Joe shook his head.

  “You have to. We need berries…”

  “Why am I the one responsible for the berries around here?” Joe grumbled. Patrick drummed his
fingers on the bakery case and didn’t answer. “There’s this girl…”

  Patrick raked his fingers through his hair. “Why is always about a girl with you?”

  And Joe, possibly because he was delirious from lack of sleep, told Patrick the whole story about finding Berry Hill Farm, becoming friends with Molly, and taking the coffee truck there on Saturday.

  “You really fell in the mud?”

  “That’s what you focused on?” Joe shook his head.

  “Why wasn’t I there to see that?” Patrick laughed. “So, let me get this straight. You like her. A lot, from the sounds of it. And she, for reasons known only to herself, likes you. And you’re not going to see her again, because…?”

  “What am I supposed to do?” Joe demanded. “Date her? Take her to dinner and the movies? I have no idea how to do all that.”

  “I thought you were the Casanova of Ashford Falls.”

  “Exactly.” Joe nodded.

  “I don’t follow.”

  “I’m…it’s not…I don’t really date.”

  “You don’t really date?” Patrick cocked his head to the side, confusion written on his face.

  “I’ve never been in a serious relationship.” Joe confessed. “Not ever.”

  “That’s ridiculous. You went out with Becky Miller…”

  “That was fifth grade!” Joe rolled his eyes. This was the problem with having people around that had known you forever. They knew your whole life history and were bound to bring it up at the most inconvenient moment. “I hook up. Everyone has fun and then…”

  “You move on to the next conquest.”

  “Right.” Joe nodded.

  “And you don’t want to move on from Molly, right?”

  “You’ll laugh.” Joe shook his head, twisting a dishtowel into knots.

  “Probably. Tell me anyway.”

  “I can see a future with her. Living on the farm, building up the vineyard and all that. The other day I realized I want to be here when the first wine is uncorked. That’s at least three years away so…”