“I’m Jake.”
Goddess, that voice. Are you even kidding me?
I release his hand and try not to flatten a heated palm over my heart, which is racing, the freaking traitor. And despite severing the connection, that buzzing energy is still bubbling through my system, telling me all kinds of things I don’t want to give credence to right now.
I do not have time for some random mountain man.
Or any man.
I’m moving into my new workspace. Besides, he’s probably married.
“I thought you might like a pick-me-up,” he says in that resonant baritone that does something funny to my heart. “And made you a latte as a welcome to the neighborhood. Do you do dairy? If not, I can remake it.”
His words wash over me while I surreptitiously check out his hands. No ring, but that doesn’t mean anything. He’s probably dating someone. Or he’s the resident bachelor. There’s a bit of grey in his beard, maybe he’s given up on love and sworn himself to a life of singledom, just like me.
I don’t know why I even care. This guy is—
His words sink in, and I glance up from where he’s holding the cup.
“You made that?” I’m pretty sure I’m frowning. But why would a guy like him make me a coffee? “Do you work next door?”
“I own next door. I’m your new neighbor.”
“J. Bryson.” I remember the name from theutilities split.
I’d assumed the J was for Jennifer or Jessica. Jewel. Jillian. Jane. Jolene. Jasmine. Any number of other J names.
Jake wasn’t even in the running, but here he is in front of me, all unfairly handsome and chipper.
“That’s me.” He holds out the to-go cup. “This is for you. Unless you’d like it dairy-free?” His dark brows lift with the question, and I’m struck again by how drawn to him I am—and not just because he’s hot.
There’s something in his demeanor that beckons me. Something in his cadence of speech and the way he holds himself that lets me know I’m safe with him.
Which is, of course, a completely fictional narrative I have no basis for. I don’t even know why my mind is trying to write it either. Stupid mind. We don’t even know him.
“Thanks,” I say roughly, taking the coffee so my hands have something to do. I don’t miss that they’re shaking when they wrap around the cup.
I also don’t miss that my skin brushes Jake’s with the handoff, and as butterflies erupt in my belly, I have to talk my traitorous body off another ledge.
Seriously, this is highly uncalled for.
And definitely unwelcome.
I take a sip of the coffee to be polite, trying not to think about what if it might be poisoned, and nearly groan aloud at how insanely good it is. “This is incredible,” I praise. “I had no idea.”
Goddess, all this time I’ve been coming at night when if I’d just come earlier in the day I could have this ambrosia?
Maybe something really is wrong with me.
“I’m glad you like it,” Jake says, giving me that handsome smile again.
I drink more of the delicious coffee, relishing the silky mouthfeel and the clean, almost nutty flavor. I’ve honestly never had such an incredible brew before.
Before I can stop myself, I tell him so, and his smile widens as he drops his gaze to the ground, almost blushing at my praise.
I don’t know why that’s so endearing. Maybe because I’m used to guys who blow off compliments, not let you see them land. Whatever the reason, as Jake visibly relaxes, I do too.
“Seriously,” I tell him. “What’s in this? I haven’t had coffee so clean in a while.”
