Fair Trade (Bold Brew #7) - Cate Ashwood Page 0,27

be pretty popular. If it was this busy now, nearing in on midnight, I imagined daytime would be absolutely packed.

“What do you want?” Nick asked, pulling my attention forward. “My treat.”

I eyed the menu. Everything sounded good, and I was starving. “Surprise me.”

“Callum. I thought you’d never ask.” Nick winked at me, and I felt my blood pressure spike. The sexual tension that had been present from day one had never evaporated. We’d worked a few blocks together so far, and if anything, the cloud of lust that gathered between us had just become thicker and harder to wade through the more time we spent together.

I always felt like I was swimming through shark-infested waters with him. One minute, there wasn’t a ripple in sight. Things were easy and casual, and for a brief moment, I let my guard down, and bam! He hit me with a comment or an innuendo that had me drowning in the sudden desire to say “fuck it” to the rules and let him do whatever he wanted to me.

It had been weeks since the last time, and the longer I denied it, the more potent the desire became.

“Why don’t you look around, find us a table, and I’ll bring everything over when it’s ready?”

Shoving my hands in my pockets, I meandered over to a table in the corner. It was far enough away from the other patrons that we wouldn’t be within earshot, but close enough to the fireplace that some warmth would travel over.

I sat, my eyes trained on Nick until he approached with our order.

“I got you the Picture Perfect and a turkey sandwich,” he said, setting it down in front of me before sitting down in the chair opposite.

What he slid across the table looked like he’d picked it up at a carnival, not a coffee shop. It was (presumably) coffee, topped with whipped cream and what looked like caramel and chocolate drizzle, and cocoa powder dusted overtop.

“I’m getting a toothache just looking at it,” I said.

“I believe the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you, Nick.’”

“Thank you, Nick.”

“The pleasure is all mine. That drink will change your life.”

“If it doesn’t kill me first.”

“Come on, old man. Live a little.”

“Who the hell you calling old?” I grabbed the napkin I knew I’d need in about thirty seconds. “Then again, when you’re barely out of diapers, I guess everyone seems old.”

“I’m one of the lucky few who doesn’t need a ton of experience to be this awesome.”

I took a sip. “Holy shit.”

Despite appearances, it wasn’t overly sweet. The chocolate and caramel were balanced out by the bitterness of the coffee, and everything altogether just worked.

Maybe it was that I had been on shift for the last few hours without a break and I was in severe need of a pick-me-up. Maybe it was that my sleep had been absolute shit lately, but the hit of caffeine was nearly instant and just what I’d needed.

“See? Told you.”

“You were right. This pretty fucking good.”

“I’m right about a lot of things. Especially things I know you’ll like.”

My gaze darted up, meeting his, the double meaning of his statement clear in his eyes. I tried not to choke.

“So, how’d you hear about this place, anyway?”

“Nice subject change.” Nick leaned back in his chair. “The better question is, how have you not heard about this place?”

“I’ve heard of it,” I protested. “I’ve just never been in?”

“Because of the—” He leaned back in and lowered his voice, one eyebrow lifting. “—sex parties?”

“So it’s true?”

Nick laughed. “No one’s having an orgy on the bakery case. It’s just a kink-positive, safe and open space for everyone, but especially LGBTQ people. Above all, it’s a coffee shop, and the owners want everyone to feel welcome.”

“You know them?”

“Yeah. Been a while since I’ve been here, but my friend Rhys and I used to hang out here all the time before I moved out west.”

Rhys. It wasn’t the first time the guy’s name had come up in conversation, and it wasn’t the first time my fists had clenched at the thought of Nick with someone else.

I hated the thought, and more than that, I hated that I even cared in the first place.

“Are you guys still close?”

“Yeah. We were pretty much inseparable when we were growing up. Even with me being gone for two years, it’s hard to break history like that.”

“Right.”

“Rhys is a photographer, actually. He did some of the photos in here.” He pointed to the wall behind me. “That one,