Kane blinks. “Coffee shop girl?”
“The owner of Daily Brew,” Jake explains. “It’s the coffee shop that opened earlier this year on the corner.”
“Ah.” Kane nods like this explains everything. “I’ve been there. Good coffee, and if you’re talking about the woman I think you are, she’s cute.”
“Not as cute as Morgana…” Zane teases, and Kane’s cheeks flush with anger.
Kane takes a deep breath and turns to face Zane. “How many goddamn times do I have to say that we are…”
“…just friends,” the rest of us chorus and laugh.
I hold back the growl in my throat. Listening to the team dissect my and Kane’s love lives – or lack thereof – isn’t high on my priority list. “Can we focus on actual business now?”
“Fine,” Knox says, though he’s not hiding his smirk from watching Zane and me. “Garafalo protection detail first. Their daughter’s boyfriend is still triggering security concerns, but background checks came back clean. Looks like overprotective parents rather than actual threats.”
The meeting shifts into familiar territory. Business assessments, security upgrades, client updates. This is comfortable ground—logical problems with clear solutions.
But my attraction to Vivian has no clear solution. I want to ask her out more than anything, but I know damn wellthat when it comes to relationships, I’m poison.
When I getto Daily Brew for an afternoon coffee, Vivian is pulling shots while checking something on her laptop. Herhoney-blonde hair is pulled back in a messy bun, loose tendrils catching the light, making herlook like an angel.
When she spots me approaching, her entire expression brightens.
“Owen! This is a nice surprise. You don’t usually come in during the afternoon.” She finishes the drink she’s preparing, then turns her full attention to me. “Large dark roast, black?”
“Please.” My voice is steady, but inside, the way her smile curves has me fantasizing about a future I know is impossible. “I’m staying late to work on a client project. Figured I could use a caffeine boost.”
“I can certainly help you with that!” she says, giving me a megawatt smile. It’s these moments with her that keep me coming back here over and over. Hell, I didn’t really drink coffee before Daily Brew opened. “Working hard or hardly working? Though knowing you, you're definitely working hard. You’ve never struck me as a slouch.”
“You’re correct on that score. The project is...” I pause, choosing my words carefully. Client privacy matters, but so does not sounding like a bragging asshole. Few tech guys can do what I can, but nothing good comes from gloating about it. “Complex. Multiple moving parts that need coordination.”
“Sounds important.” She slides the coffee across the counter. Her fingers brush mine, and a spark of desire shoots straight to my cock. It triggers my fantasy of her on top of me in bed, her golden hair falling onto me and tickling my face as she rides my cock with wild abandon.
Coughing and shifting to hide the erection growing in my jeans, I deflect. “It’s a pretty normal day for me.”
I’m pulling cash out of my wallet when the lights in Daily Brew flicker.
Then, the espresso machine dies with a mechanical whine, and the lights go out.
“No, no, no. Please save, please save...” Vivian says frantically,rushing to her laptop, which is sitting open on the back counter.
I watch as she jabs at the power button, but the screen stays dark. Whatever she was working on is gone. I cringe, knowing firsthand the pain of data loss.
The mood in the coffee shop shifts instantly. Confused murmurs build to frustrated complaints, everyone wondering aloud what happened to the power.
Then, a high-maintenance woman, if ever I saw one, pushes forward from where she was waiting for her order. Her voice cuts through the chaos like nails on glass.
“This is completely UNACCEPTABLE! You’re telling me I can’t even get my soy latte?”
She slams her palm on the counter, making Vivian flinch backward. My protective instincts are instant and absolute.
“Ma’am.” My voice comes out steady, edged with command. I will not allow anyone to talk to Vivian like this. “Step back. Now.”
The woman whirls toward me, face flushed with indignation. “Excuse me? Who do you think—”
“Someone who doesn’t waste time on tantrums.” I move closer, not quite stepping between her and the counter, but closeenough to tower over her and make her look up at me. “The power’s out. That’s infrastructure, not incompetence. The exits are clear, and if you want to blame someone, talk to the construction crew next door. They might have something to do with this. The staff can’t operate espresso machines without electricity,” I continue, eyes locked on the woman, whose face has gone pale. “You can wait, or you can leave. Those are your options.”
She opens and closes her mouth twice before she steps back, then turns and leaves.
