CHAPTER 1
"Ihate holidays," Annabethmuttered.
Luckily, the customer was too fixated on his drink order to hear. Impatiently, he repeated, "I said, I want a large Holiday Hot Mocha but with a triple espresso shot instead of a double, steamed oat milk instead of regular, half the cinnamon syrup, double the peppermint, and extra spearmint sparkles. Got it?"
"Got it!" Annabeth did her best to inject holiday happiness into her voice.
She spun around to grab the oat milk. The abominable elf hat she wore slid forward, covering her eyes. When she shoved it back up, her elbow smacked into the bottle of spearmint sparkles, sending a shower of green and white sugar glitter to the floor.
Before she could decide whether to grab the broom or the espresso, the customer behind Mr. Extra Spearmint Sparkles raised her voice. "I want a small Christmas Cheer, but with one-third almond milk and two-thirds low-fat regular milk, double the nutmeg, one-third cinnamon syrup, and peppermint sparkles instead of spearmint."
"In a moment," Annabeth called, sweeping frantically with one hand while pouring oat milk into the steamer with the other.
"I'm still waiting for my Solstice Snow Flurry," shouted another customer from the back.
"Where's my Hanukkah Challah Latte?" another customer demanded.
"My boys have been waiting for their Kwanzaa Caramel Cocoa for 15 minutes!" exclaimed a frazzled young mother. The instant the mom looked away, one of her twin toddlers boosted the other up to make a grab for a particularly fragile Christmas ornament.
Annabeth hated winter holidays.
As the ravening horde of customers raised their voices to demand double syrup pumps and nut milk and whole milk and double blends and extra foam and no foam and ingredients she wasn’t sure even existed and items from the secret menu they didn’t actually have, Annabeth shouted louder. “Kwanzaa Caramel Twins mom, your kids are going for the Christmas tree ornament! Riley, I need help with the flurry machine! Hanukkah Latte, you’re next! Christmas Cheers, it’s coming right up!”
The mom snatched her kid away from the ornament just in time. Riley hurried to help, his antler headband bobbing. Annabeth pumped syrup and steamed milk and frothed foam as fast as she could.
“This would be so much easier if I had eight arms, like an octopus,” she muttered to herself.
“But if you were an octopus, they’d probably make you turn green and red for Christmas,” someone remarked. It was an unfamiliar male voice, with the deep resonance that suggested that the speaker was a big guy.
Annabeth was amused at the comment, as well as surprised that anyone had heard her over all the commotion. She was too busy making Christmas Cheers, Holiday Hot Mochas, Kwanzaa Caramel Cocoas, and Hanukkah Challah Lattes to look up, but she couldn’t resist replying, “Or blue and white for Hanukkah.”
“On the other hand, you’d have jet propulsion,” said the man.
“You mean, on the other tentacle.” She passed over the Hanukkah Challah Latte to the pick-up area and looked up.
And up. And up. Which was unusual for her, as she was very tall for a woman. But the man she’d been talking to towered over the other customers. He wasn’t only tall, he was big all over, with a powerful chest and incredibly broad shoulders. Annabeth’s gaze continued to rise upward, finding a strong chin, a smile that combined cheer and sweetness, and a pair of deep brown eyes.
As soon as their eyes met, the handsome customer gave a start like he’d stuck his finger in an electric socket. His jaw dropped, his eyes bulged, and he stared at her like he’d never seen a 6’1” female barista in an elf hat before.
“What can I get you?” she asked, resigning herself to another complicated order. Even if he didn’t have any special requests, the holiday drinks were complex even in their original forms. But she wouldn’t mind whipping up something fancy for a man who made octopus jokes and had a lovely deep voice and brown eyes you could drown in.
He made an odd gulping sound, like a fish out of water, then cleared his throat and said, “A drip coffee, please.”
She waited for a request for syrup, foam, or sprinkles, but he said nothing else. As the silence stretched and he seemed to realize she was waiting for something else from him, he added, “Please. Did I say please? If I didn’t say please, I’m sorry.”
“You said please,” she assured him, charmed by his politeness. What a change from the usual at a time of year when even the nicest customers became frazzled and demanding! “How big? Hot or cold? Room for milk?”
“Big,” he said. His gaze was still absolutely fixed on her. “I mean large. Hot. No milk. I got used to drinking it black in the lab. The only fridge was for specimens, and I don’t like artificial creamer.”
“What lab?” Annabeth asked, intrigued.
He gulped again, looking oddly furtive. “Er. Biology. Marine biology, in my case.”
“No way!” Annabeth exclaimed. “I’m getting a PhD in marine biology.”
The big man’s look seemed almost... adoring. “You are? Of course you are. I mean, it stands to reason that you would be. All things considered.”
Baffled, she asked, “Do I look like a marine biologist?”
