Double Mocha, Heavy On Your Phone Number

by June Kramin

  title page

  Double Mocha, Heavy on Your Phone Number

  June Kramin

  ...

  An imprint of

  Musa Publishing

  Copyright Information

  Double Mocha, Heavy on Your Phone Number, Copyright © June Kramin, 2011

  All Rights Reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without prior written permission of the publisher.

  ...

  This e-Book is a work of fiction. While references may be made to actual places or events, the names, characters, incidents, and locations within are from the author’s imagination and are not a resemblance to actual living or dead persons, businesses, or events. Any similarity is coincidental.

  ...

  Musa Publishing

  633 Edgewood Ave

  Lancaster, OH 43130

  www.musapublishing.com

  ...

  Published by Musa Publishing, December, 2011

  ...

  This e-Book is licensed to the original purchaser only. Duplication or distribution via any means is illegal and a violation of International Copyright Law, subject to criminal prosecution and upon conviction, fines and/or imprisonment. No part of this ebook can be reproduced or sold by any person or business without the express permission of the publisher.

  ...

  ISBN: 978-1-61937-040-1

  ...

  Editor: Elizabeth Silver

  Cover Design: Kelly Shorten

  Interior Book Design: Coreen Montagna

  Warning

  This e-book contains adult language and scenes. This story is meant only for adults as defined by the laws of the country where you made your purchase. Store your e-books carefully where they cannot be accessed by younger readers.

  Dedication

  For Mike C.

  Honestly, I didn’t mean for it to be you.

  Chapter One

  It was supposed to be the last decent weekend for riding her motorcycle. It was early October in Southern Minnesota, the leaves had changed, and the temperature had already been in the low forties a couple of nights.

  Noelle took her red Honda Shadow motorcycle that day instead of her small car, which by chance was a Honda as well. She didn’t mean to have matching vehicles, it just happened that way. Of course that had led to trading in her green Polaris 4-wheeler and getting a red Honda to complete the set when she upgraded from a 400 to a 750. Add that to the red Honda snowmobile her brother gave her and she had a complete set.

  “Drive anything and drive it fast” was pretty much her motto. She frequented mud holes and trails with friends on her 4-wheeler, but when she rode her bike, that was her alone time.

  She drove down Highway Twenty-three outside of the town of Spicer, Minnesota when she spotted another motorcycle on the side of the road. Pulling over, she parked behind the man’s bike to see if she could help. Through the helmet, she let out a simple, “Hey.”

  “Hey, kid. Thanks for stopping.”

  Kid? Ellie must not have sounded like a girl to him. She got off her bike without saying anything else.

  “It just died. Not sure what’s up. I’m not far from here. Can you give me a lift?”

  Before speaking again, she unfastened her helmet.

  “If that doesn’t work, if you have a cell phone, I could make a quick call,” he said, continuing with his side of the one-way conversation.

  She pulled her helmet off and his mouth dropped at the sight of her shoulder length blonde hair falling out from under it.

  “You’re a chick?”

  “And this surprises you why?”

  “Sorry. I don’t want to sound like a pig. I just didn’t hear you I guess.” She saw his eyes fall to her chest with a How did I miss those? look of embarrassment to his face.

  She put the helmet on her seat and walked over to his bike. “What’s it doin’?”

  “Just died. Can’t get it going. Can you give me that ride?”

  Without answering again, she gave it a quick once over. Honda CB-900. Not too shabby. No Harley, but then again she wasn’t really a Harley gal anyway. “Did you try to give it a push start?”

  “A push start?” By his tone, he seemed to think she was nuts for suggesting it. “No. I was about to start pushing it home. I’m sure it would be okay here though. Can you give me that ride?” he asked yet again.

  Ellie grabbed the handlebars then turned the key on.

  “Not going to do you any good. I told you, it’s dead.”

  She put it in fifth gear and ran a few steps then popped the clutch. It sputtered to life and she hopped on. She shifted back down then rolled it for a few yards, turned around and came back. He stood there with his mouth open while she brought it to a stop. With the engine still running, she stepped off and waited for him the grab the handlebar.

  “How did you learn to do that?”

  “If you’re going to have a machine like this I suggest you learn how to use it.” She walked back to her Shadow and fastened her helmet, climbed on, and took off without looking back.

  Bix couldn’t react fast enough to go after the girl. Girl? Woman. She was barely over five feet and he was sure he could have wrapped his hands around her waist and have his fingers touch. The last time he saw a face that gorgeous he was in awe of a model in a magazine he didn’t even know the name of. It dawned on him he hadn’t caught her name, either. He climbed on his bike and tried to go after her, but she was long gone over the hill; the road split two ways and he couldn’t see which way she had gone. He took a guess, but if he took the right way, he never caught up to her.

  The following Monday, Bix wandered into a local coffee shop. He hadn’t cared for the one he tried last week; the barista at the chain store had given him a little too much attitude and treated coffee orders like she was a drill sergeant. He was tempted to go there today and throw an order at her just to see what she would do. “I’ll have a half-calf-non-fat-vanilla-macchiato heavy on the whip and no cap.” He decided he was too chicken for that. She would probably make it and he would be stuck there wondering what the hell he was drinking.

  He stood in line and smiled wide when he saw the cashier.

  “It’s you.”

  She looked down at her nametag, which read Ellie. “Yup. I guess it is. What can I get you?”

  “You don’t remember me?”

  “Should I? Sorry, you can’t say the usual. What can I get for you?”

  “No, you jumped my bike on Saturday.”

  “Your bike? That must have been my doppelganger.”

  “You have a doppelganger?”

  “I’d love to say I am my own evil other self, but I must have one. That wasn’t me. What can I get for you?”

  “You shitting me?” He raised an eyebrow. Her hair was in a ponytail and tucked under a hat so it was hard to say, but he was sure it was her.

  “No. I’m afraid I really need to know what you want. I failed at mind reading.”

  “I meant about it not being you on Saturday.”

  “I told you, it wasn’t me. Now what can I get you? There are people behind you.”

  “Sorry. Give me a double mocha. Heavy on your phone number.”

  “Tall or Grande?” she asked, ignoring his second request.

  “Tall. You know, that’s funny.”

  “What’s funny?”

  “Why don’t you say short or Grande? Seems to me Tall is Grande.”

  “I don’t make up the signs. $3.47 please.”

  He handed h
er a five and dropped what was left in the tip jar after adding another dollar.

  “Next.” She rolled her eyes when he only stepped aside. “You need to go to the far counter to get your drink.”

  “I know, but I didn’t get your number.”

  “And you’re not going to either.” Ellie took the next customer’s order then watched as the woman stepped around Bix, giving him a bit of a glare.

  “Look. Just go get your coffee and be on your way so I don’t get fired, okay?”

  “When is your shift over? I can meet you then.”

  “Are you always this persistent? I mean, really. If you’re into chicks with bikes, you’re barking up the wrong person.”

  “I never said that. I thought I recognized you. Makes no matter to me if you ride a bike or not. I’d still like your phone number.”

  “You’re not getting it and your drink is up.” Ellie pointed to the barista walking to the counter with his drink then called to someone in back. “Fred, I’m taking my break now.” She walked away from the register and Bix.

  The barista in a long, red apron placed his drink on the counter.

  “Double mocha,” she said, confirming the order to Bix. He took it and walked out.

  He sat at the table outside and drank his coffee. He had brought the motorcycle today since the weather had warmed up again. The forecast said tomorrow could bring snow, though. Gotta love Minnesota weather. He kept an eye on the window to the inside, hoping to catch her come back, but she didn’t in the fifteen minutes he sat there. He tossed his cup in the trash and hopped on his bike and headed to the main road. After spotting something in the back parking lot close to the building, he took a small detour to get a closer view. A red Honda Shadow.

  “You little fibber.” He smirked and continued home.

  Chapter Two

  Two weeks had gone by since the last time Ellie rode her bike. Ellie was thrilled that the man with the motorcycle hadn’t come back in. For a moment, she thought he was just passing through and was a one-time customer and she wouldn’t have to deal with him again, but then she remembered that he said he didn’t live far from where he was stalled that day. She had expected him to come back the next morning to hit on her again, but was pleasantly surprised that he took the hint. She wasn’t going to put too much stock in it and worry at all. Her brush-off was serious; she wasn’t interested. He was handsome enough, but she wasn’t ready to put herself on the market just yet. He can’t even run a bike, Ellie. Stick to your guns. No dating! You don’t need the bullshit.

  She had parked her bike in her garage after the cold had finally settled in for good. The snow was coming fast and plentiful that day and there was no sign of it letting up.

  “Shit. It’s not like we didn’t know it was coming, but does the first snow have to be such a damn storm? Especially after such a gorgeous weekend,” Ellie said as she stood at the front of the coffee shop looking out at the heavy snow falling when her boss walked up to her.

  “At least it came two weeks later than predicted. That counts for something. I just heard they’re closing the road, Ellie. You’re welcome to stay with me and Ginny. We always have the spare room ready.”

  “Thanks, Fred, but I want to head home. You know they close it before they really have to. I’ll take off now, though, if that’s okay with you.”

  “I wish you wouldn’t try to drive, but if anyone can maneuver this crap, it’s you. Go ahead and go. We’re not going to get much for customers anyway.”

  “Thanks.”

  Ellie regretted her decision almost instantly, but couldn’t bring herself to turn around. She drove as slowly and carefully as she could, but the drifts came at her out of nowhere. The wind became worse with each mile. Thankfully there were no other cars on the road and her swerving didn’t cause any problems for oncoming traffic. They had closed the road by the time she reached it, but she didn’t heed the flashing lights warning drivers away from the closed road, even though it was illegal to keep going. It was at least a three-hundred-dollar fine if she was caught, but she doubted the cops were patrolling if things were this bad.

  She took the road’s worst curve as carefully as she could, but a drift pulled the car hard to the left across the other lane. The snow was thick and she moved slowly enough, or maybe it just felt like slow motion. There was nothing she could do but hold on as she slid sideways into the ditch. When the car stopped sliding, she banged both hands on the steering wheel and rested her head there for a moment. After a few seconds of assessing her situation, she knew there was no way she was going to get out on her own. The driver’s side door was tight against a snow bank. Her tires would be buried deeply and packed with snow.

  “Damnit!”

  She looked out the window. Visibility was barely twenty feet. No one else would be dumb enough to be out in this and on the closed road. She had almost a full tank of gas, her emergency survival kit, and a blanket, but she wasn’t going to hunker down in her car for any amount of time. Ellie simply was not the type to sit around and wait to be rescued. There was no one at home to miss her and she wasn’t about to call and ask for help.

  Positive that she knew where she was, she gathered her things. There was a dirt driveway less than half a mile away. Even if the house at the end was abandoned, it would be a better place to be than her car. She turned off the engine and popped the trunk then crawled over to the passenger seat to get out. After being immediately greeted by a blast of wind and snow that sent a chill up her spine, Ellie began to seriously consider staying put.

  “I live here why?” she mumbled. Wondering why she lived in Southern Minnesota happened often, especially in the winter. “Weeds out the weak,” she would tease with her friends. Her brothers lived four hours north where the weather was always worse; knowing that someone had it worse than she did was her only saving grace. After retrieving the emergency blanket, she shut the trunk and used the key fob to lock the car, laughing at herself.

  “Who’s going to come out in this shit and what the hell do you even have worth stealing, Ellie?” she said to herself as the laugh turned into grumbling. She pulled the blanket up over her head and walked in the direction of the home, immediately cursing for wearing only her ankle-high snow boots. This weather called for her taller Sorrels, but she hadn’t wanted to dig them out of the closet this early in the season and admit that winter was here.

  It took her twenty minutes to reach the place she had in mind. She was grateful when she finally found it. If it weren’t for the small snowmobile stop sign in the ditch, she would have missed it. The drifts seemed to be getting taller as she walked. The wind was giving her a run for her money and the snow had gotten so heavy she could barely see her hands in front of her face by the time she made it that far.

  It took her another five minutes to reach the old farmhouse. She was beginning to worry it had been demolished, again rethinking her decision to leave the car; the older houses along the county roads were slowly being bought up and torn down as the older farmers passed away, their children long gone and moved away. The new generation wanted city life and convenience, not farm life where you relied on the weather and crop prices like their parents had. They were quick to cash out of their parent’s land even though the land had been in their family for generations. The remaining farmers were like vultures when someone died. Eager land buyers watched the obituaries, anxious to snatch up every acre of land possible. The land was worth more farmed than it was as a house, so they were usually promptly gutted and torn down.

  Finally close enough to see through the snow, Ellie sighed with relief that the old house was still there and demolition wasn’t the fate of this one yet. As she got even closer yet, she could see it actually didn’t look to be in too bad of shape.

  The front door didn’t appear to be used much; she could see cardboard boxes stacked on the front porch through the dirty windows. Ellie went to the side where she could see a small addition of a mudroom. The door was unlocked when she
tried it, so she went inside, heat hitting her instantly. The house wasn’t abandoned and someone was probably home, unless they were stuck in town and couldn’t get here themselves. She stomped her shoes, both trying to get the attention of the owner and trying to shake some snow off.

  She hung the blanket over a plastic lawn chair and knocked on the door. When there wasn’t a sign of an occupant after almost a minute, she tried again. She knocked a third time and opened the door calling out, “Hello? Is anybody home?” An elderly man rounded the corner as she did and she screamed. “I’m so sorry. I was afraid you were on another floor and couldn’t hear me or you weren’t here at all.”

  He appeared to be in his late seventies and the years had been hard on his looks. His skin was leathery and wrinkled from years of being out in the sun. He must farm the land around him, or at least used to.

  “You get yourself stuck out there?” His features had softened and his eyes were full of kindness. She was no longer afraid of what the house held. He was a sweet man, eager to help a stranger.

  “About a half mile down the road to the east.”

  “Come inside and warm up. Gimme your coat, I’ll hang it up.” When she handed it to him, he gave it a shake in the mudroom then hung it up on a hook beside the door. He extended his hand. “Barry. Barry Newman. Very pleased to make your acquaintance, Miss…”

  “Freeman. Noelle Freeman.”

  “I have a fire going and hot water on the stove. Care for a cup of coffee or hot chocolate?”

  “Hot chocolate would be wonderful,” she answered with a warm smile to his hospitality then sneezed. “Oh, excuse me.”

  He replied with, “God bless you. You’ve gotta be chilled to the bone. Fireplace is in the sitting room right down there.” He pointed down a short hallway. “I’ll be right in with your cocoa.”

  “Thank you.” She removed her shoes and wet socks then wandered slowly down the hall, taking in the old photos on the wall. The frames appeared dusty; she took him for a widower. Spotting a braided rug in front of the fireplace, she sat on it, hoping to warm up, then sneezed again. The old man walked in with two mugs and offered her one. Before settling in his chair he picked up a box of tissues off the TV stand and gave them to her.