Table of Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Dear Reader of Mistletoe and Mochas,
by
Mistletoe and Mochas
HEARTS OF HOLLYWOOD SERIES, Book 2
Published by, Serene Lake Publishing
Copyright © 2015 by Lynnette Bonner. All rights reserved.
Cover design by Lynnette Bonner of Indie Cover Design - www.indiecoverdesign.com
Images ©
www.bigstock.com, File: #76124723
www.bigstock.com, File: #13635656
THE HOLY BIBLE, NEW INTERNATIONAL VERSION®, NIV® Copyright © 1973, 1978, 1984, 2011 by Biblica, Inc.® Used by permission. All rights reserved worldwide.
Mistletoe and Mochas is a work of fiction. References to real people, events, establishments, organizations, or locales are intended only to provide a sense of authenticity and are used fictitiously. All other characters, incidents, and dialogue are drawn from the author’s imagination.
Printed in the U.S.A.
More books in the
HEART’S OF HOLLYWOOD SERIES
by Lynnette Bonner
— Contemporary Christian Romance Novellas —
My Blue Havyn
Other books by Lynnette Bonner
THE PACIFIC SHORES SERIES
— Contemporary Christian Romance —
Beyond the Waves, Book 1
Caught in the Current, Book 2
Song of the Surf, Book 3
Written in the Sand, Book 4
More books by Lynnette Bonner
ISLANDS OF INTRIGUE: SAN JUANS
— Christian Romantic Suspense —
The Unrelenting Tide — Lynnette Bonner — Also available in audio
Tide Will Tell — Lesley Ann McDaniel
Deceptive Tide — Janalyn Voigt
Coming Soon
THE SHEPHERD’S HEART SERIES
— Christian Historical Romance —
Rocky Mountain Oasis — Also available in audio
High Desert Haven — Also available in audio
Fair Valley Refuge — Also available in audio
Spring Meadow Sanctuary — Also available in audio
Find out more at www.lynnettebonner.com.
1 Corinthians 13: 4-8a
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy,
it does not boast, it is not proud.
It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking,
it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs.
Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth.
It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres.
Love never fails.
Chapter 1
Chelsea Tan suppressed a whimper and gritted her teeth as she eyed the mounds of scattered coffee beans Ted had just dashed to the floor in his anger. Those were the Kona ones straight from their Hawaiian grower, too. Easily a couple hundred dollars worth of coffee now lay ruined on the floor behind the service counter.
And of course she’d have to take it out of her own paycheck. She’d given Ted his last check only a moment ago before she fired him, and Aunt Flo would demand that someone pay for the damages.
Of all the immature, selfish, weaselly things to do… Then again, what else should she expect from a man who had tried—ugh.
Unable to complete the thought, she scrunched her eyes shut and attempted vainly to dispel the image of Ted’s anemic lips swooping in for a kiss.
She shuddered and glanced at the front door. The bell above it was still swaying slightly from the forceful way he’d slammed it.
That man was lucky all she’d done was fire his skinny self. By rights she could be pressing charges for… Oh, who was she kidding? He probably hadn’t gone far enough that she could press charges for anything, unless ‘super-persistent-geek-who-won’t-take-no-as-an-answer’ was a criminal charge these days. That and the fact that he’d nearly scared the bejeebers out of her when he’d arrived at work with flowers and tried to kiss her as she filled the pastry display. She’d turned to reach for a Danish and there he was leaning toward her.
A shudder scuttled down her spine.
She snatched up the broom and dustpan and set to hastily sweeping up the disaster. Tossing a glance at the clock, she rolled her eyes. Of course she was supposed to open in five minutes.
Her brows pinched together as a headache squeezed at the back of her neck.
Was it Friday yet?
Not even close and she’d have to handle the morning crowd on her own now because Hailey couldn’t get here any sooner than nine thirty.
On the other hand she wasn’t ready for it to be Friday either. She still had way too much work to do for Havyn and Levi’s Christmas Eve wedding on Saturday.
She ticked through a mental list as she worked. Oy! This week was going to be a nightmare. As maid of honor she wanted this wedding to be perfect, but she still had so much to get done, not the least of which was finishing up the hand-written place cards for the reception.
She turned on the grill and slapped the bacon slices onto the hottest part. Hurriedly, she cracked two eggs into separate spots, knowing Jim and Rose would be in for their daily bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast sandwiches, and mochas the minute she opened. She’d seen them sitting on the bench out front as she drove by and turned into the employee parking lot. She washed her hands quickly. Drying them on her apron, she stepped to the front door and flipped over the sign.
The glass was frosty this morning – something unusual for Seattle, even if it was December and nearly Christmas. Someone had joined Jim and Rose on the walk, but all she could distinguish was someone rather tall who appeared to be wearing a red stocking cap.
She hadn’t even made it back behind the counter before she heard the bell above the door jangle and the signature thump of Rose’s cane crossing the threshold. The eggs! She called a hasty greeting over her shoulder as she hurried straight to the eggs and seasoned them, then scrambled them with a fork. “Morning, you two. I’ll have your sandwiches and mochas ready in just a moment. Sure was chilly out there when I came in this morning.”
“That it was,” Jim hollered. “My old bones is letting me know it too. Better make my mocha a large this morning.”
“Mine too.” The scraping of wooden legs across linoleum would be Jim dragging a third chair to their table for Rose to prop her foot on.
“Two large mochas, coming up!” She grabbed two cups and pumped chocolate syrup into the bottom of each.
“A mocha sounds good. I’ll take one of those as well.”
Chelsea froze.
The voice was warm and familiar. Just the sound of it filled her with contentment while at the same time making her hunger for more, like soft caramel after a stressful day.
It can’t be. She pivoted slowly on one heel.
Cannon Jones. His blond curls peeked out from under a red knit cap, and the tawny brown leather of his jacket made his shoulders seem broader than she’d remembered. But it was him, in the flesh. Standing off to one side of the cash register with his arms folded and a slightly amused expression on his way-too-handsome face.
“C-Cannon…” She almost dropped one of the cups and only a quick reflex saved
her from having chocolate syrup all down the front of her.
Heavens! Thank goodness Aunt Flo had drilled into her never to leave the house without any makeup on! She felt heat crawl into her cheeks. “Y-you’re certainly the last person I expected to see today.”
“I told you I would come the next time I could.”
He had. But he hadn’t contacted her in all the weeks since she’d gotten home from the building trip she’d taken to Africa where she’d met him. And she’d given up believing he actually would.
His gaze fixed on something over her shoulder. “Better get whatever is cooking.”
“Oh!” She thunked the cups down and snatched up the cheese slices and a spatula. Flipping the eggs over, she dropped cheese on the top of both, then scooped up the bacon and laid it atop the cheese. Her hands trembled as she split the bagels and layered together the sandwiches. Hastily, she finished the mochas, never allowing her gaze to travel to the man who still stood by the register simply watching her. Loading everything onto a tray, she hot-footed it to Jim and Rose’s table and carefully laid everything out for them. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, I think we’re fine. You go on and talk to your admirer.” Jim’s words rang out in his characteristic I-forgot-my-hearing-aids-again-today voice.
Cannon chuckled, and warmth blazed through her face yet again. Admirer indeed.
She scuttled behind the counter once more and rested nervous fingers on the granite by the register. “S-so…do you really want a mocha?”
He settled his forearms into the meager area between the till and the pastry display and leaned forward until his blue gaze captured hers. “I really want a mocha.” He grinned. “It’s freezing out there. You’ll recall it’s a lot warmer in Africa.”
Africa. Yes. The place he’d been for the past several weeks without contacting her even once.
When she held her silence, he offered a friendly wink. “But I’m here for more than just a mocha.”
She forced her knees to hold her upright by pressing them into the cabinet doors. “More…like a sandwich?”
The quirk of his lips sent a ripple of awareness down her spine. “No, not like a sandwich.” His attention lingered leisurely on her features. First her hairline. Then across her brow and down her nose to tarry at the lips she kneaded nervously with her teeth, then slowly across each cheek before he met her gaze once more. “You’re more beautiful than I remembered.”
She chewed one side of her lip and studied a Danish, unable to meet his perusal for a moment longer.
He tipped a subtle nod toward Jim. “Admirer. He got it right. I didn’t rearrange my schedule, find someone who could fill in for me on a build, and fly all the way to Seattle for coffee and a sandwich.”
Heat pooled in the pit of her stomach and overflowed. It blocked up her airway and slid down her arms into her fingertips, making them tap the countertop. “You came for the wedding?”
He tilted his head, his magnetic blue eyes wielding enough power to pull her gaze back to his. “I was invited to the wedding, yes.” His focus dropped to where her fingernails played out a jittery rhythm, and he slid one of his hands across the space between them. He slipped it under her fingers, lifting them and massaging warmth into them with his thumb. “But as much as I like Havyn and Levi, there was a bigger attraction in Seattle for me than their wedding.”
A swell of emotion pinched her throat tight and she swallowed.
She studied his face, searching for the elusive element she must be missing. Guys like Cannon – handsome athletes with perfect features and muscles in all the right places – did not go for girls like her – skinny, freckled redheads with nerdy laughs and more brains than sophistication.
This felt dangerous. Like she was a glass vase teetering on the edge of a very unstable table. Something would shift sooner or later, and she had a feeling it would be the vase that would get shattered.
She curled her lips in and pressed them together, unsure how to respond. The bell above the door tinkled, giving her the distraction she needed. She glanced behind him to see two women enter, rubbing their hands together and eyeing the menu. “I’ll be right with you.” She smiled at them. Then to Cannon, she said, “I’ll get that mocha for you.” She started to pull away, but his grip tightened.
A frown formed between his brows. “Who was the guy who went busting out of here a few minutes ago with the flowers?”
Was that worry she saw in the depths of his eyes? As she pulled away to make his mocha, she laughed outright at the thought of Cannon being concerned about a guy like Ted. But maybe she could tease him a little. “That was Ted.” She tried not to spit his name out with distaste, and peeked at Cannon from the corner of her eye to see if she’d pulled it off.
He was grinning, so apparently she hadn’t.
He stood and folded his arms. “Ted looked none too happy. And since he was leaving with flowers, I take it I don’t have much to worry about where he’s concerned?”
He had been jealous. Her tummy rolled on a wave of pleasure and she took pity on him. “For your information, I fired Ted this morning, and before he left he knocked about two hundred dollars worth of coffee beans on the floor. So there’s no love lost between us.”
A frown bunched his brow. “Will he have to pay for them?”
She sighed as she heated the milk for his drink. “No. Likely, I will.”
He immediately reached for his wallet. “I’ll cover it.” He pulled two one-hundred dollar bills out and laid them on the counter.
Her eyes widened. He could just toss two hundred dollars down like it was a couple bucks? He would do that? For her? Something inside her went all soft. Heaven knew how hard she worked here already and how nice it would be to let someone else take care of her for a change. But as she snapped the cover on his cup, a twinge of disgruntlement tugged at her brows.
She set his mocha in front of him and slid the money back in his direction. “It’s been weeks, Cannon. Not an email. Not a phone call. And you just show up?” He started to answer but she held up a finger to silence him. “The mocha’s on the house. But I have to help these customers. And I don’t want your money. I get off at one o’clock.”
He gave the cup a couple twists, his gaze boring through her. “There’s a reason, Chels. But it’s too much to explain now. I’ll let you get to work. Can I take you to lunch when you get off?”
She swallowed and was tempted to decline and let him feel a little of the dejection she’d been feeling over the past months. But of course she nodded. Because how could she resist this man?
He lifted the coffee in a salute and dropped the two hundred dollars into the tip jar on the counter. “Great. I’ll meet you here.” With that, he disappeared out the door, leaving only the hollow ringing of the bell in her ears and customers waiting for her assistance.
Tension zinged along her spine all day as she waited for the clock to creep its way toward one. What reason could he have for not contacting her for weeks?
Before she’d left Africa, he’d insisted on getting both her email address and her phone number, and for the first several days she’d waited with anticipation, carrying her phone with her everywhere she went and pulling it out to check email so often she might as well have had the thing glued to her hand.
Finally after a couple weeks, the message had sunk in. He really wasn’t interested in her. She’d just been convenient…and gullible enough to fall for him.
She gritted her teeth. Well, he’ll just see how gullible I am this time, won’t he!
Chapter 2
Cannon slipped his hands into his jacket pockets and leaned against his rental car, waiting for Chelsea to emerge from the coffee shop. He’d been rehearsing the best way to tell her all that had transpired since they’d last seen each other and cringing each time he reran the story through his head. Truth that it may be, he doubted it was going to sound like anything but a flat-out lie to her.
He tipped his head back and s
tudied the clear blue Seattle sky. God, you’re the one who called me to be a builder in Africa. So…a little help here, please?
That prayer brought the reminder of the feeling of impending change he’d been sensing lately with regards to his job. A year ago, if anyone had asked him, he would have said he’d probably be a builder in Africa until he retired. But lately he’d had a premonition that God might be about to upend his plans and ask him to do something else. He just wasn’t sure what that was yet.
The bell on the door to Flo’s Coffee Shop jangled and Chelsea emerged, settling a large canvas bag over her shoulder as she scooped her mass of red curls out of the way. She hooked one thumb into the straps and paused when she noticed him. A hint of indecisiveness narrowed her eyes.
He was glad for the sturdy presence of the car behind him, because one look from that girl’s big green eyes could nearly knock the breath right out of him. He tried to keep the timbre of his voice even. “I thought I could drive and then bring you back later to get your car?”
She seemed to struggle with the decision as she frowned and stared blankly down the hill. After a moment, though, she nodded and swept a gesture of agreement toward his rental.
He opened the passenger door for her and prayed, once again, for the right words as he made his way around to the driver’s seat. He put the car in gear, but kept his foot on the brake and looked over at her. “So…where’s a good place to eat around here?”
“You like seafood?”
He nodded.
“Let’s go to Ivars at Pier 54, then. I can afford it today. This crazy guy came in this morning and gave me a two hundred dollar tip.”
“Two hundred dollars?” He whistled and gave her a wink. “That guy probably has more on his mind than just coffee. You better be on your guard.”
Her eyes widened a little and her hand settled on the door handle.
And it hit him how his words might be interpreted. His brows shot up and he hurried to explain. “More on his mind like friendship and getting to know you. Not like…anything else.”
Mistletoe and Mochas: A Christmas Romance Novella (Hearts of Hollywood Book 2) Page 1
