Latte Darling: Book Two of The Darling Series

White foam splashes across my chest.

“Oh crap!” I jump back, holding the whipped cream canister away from my body.

Leslie snickers, handing me a towel. “Nice one, Boss.”

Grimacing, I take the cloth and wipe at the mess.

“This is precisely why I should keep a spare set of clothes in my office,” I grumble.

She nods her agreement, taking out a new canister from the fridge below the counter. “Not a bad idea. Especially if you’re gonna Jackson Pollock yourself.”

I snort and nod for her to take over the mocha I was preparing.

Heading over to the sink, I wet a paper towel and dab at my coral cotton shirt. The whipped cream is easily removed, only now I’m left with a big wet spot on my boobs.

“Great,” I sigh.

Leslie hands off the drink and shuffles back to where I’m standing.

“Is something different? You seem extra…” she tilts her head, “happy?”

I can’t stop the grin that pulls across my face. “I am.”

She waggles her eyebrows, “Who is he?”

There’s a tug in my lower belly at the thought of him. “He’s… new.”

I’m still not sure what to call him. I think he’s my boyfriend. I’m pretty sure. But that word seems so silly in reference to the oversized older man that shared my bed Friday and Saturday night.

My fingers reach up to brush across my cheek, where Axel kissed me when he woke up yesterday.

It was early. Too early. And he told me not to get up, that just because he had to go home to get some stuff done didn’t mean I had to rise at the crack of dawn too. But I didn’t want to sleep through him leaving. Couldn’t bear the idea, actually. So, feeling incredibly needy, I insisted on making him a cup of coffee first.

I stretched out the process and gave him my favorite BeanBag travel mug to use. Part of me knew I was being clingy, giving him something that I’d want back. But the other part of me didn’t care, knowing I’d do all sorts of underhanded tactics to keep Axel in my life.

“Hmm,” Leslie makes a knowing sound.

She’s old enough to be my mother, and her strong maternal presence has my blush revving into overdrive.

She snickers, “No need to feel embarrassed. I didn’t have five children by being a virgin.”

I put my hands over my face, “Not helping!”

I’m saved from more questioning by the sound of the front door opening.

A woman I recognize walks in, a man trailing behind her.

She doesn’t come in too often, so it takes me a moment to realize that her hair is different. It’s in the same smooth shoulder-length style it’s always been in, but instead of light brown, it’s a bright bleached blonde.

“I love what you’ve done to your hair!” I exclaim, not recalling her name.

Her smile is instant, “Thank you. I just had it done this weekend.”

“Well, it’s fantastic,” I tell her.

She opens her mouth to say more, but the balding man with her rolls his eyes and grumbles something about “not being 25 anymore”, causing her to snap her mouth shut. Her smile disappearing as quickly as it appeared.

My hands fist into balls.

I want to yell at him. Tell him he’s being a total jerk. But just the idea of speaking up makes my palms sweat.

Say something.

I urge myself.

Anything.

But even if I could muster up the courage to say something, he might respond. And that… that sends my heartbeat racing.

Feeling just as defeated as the pretty blonde looks, I keep my eyes on her and try to smile, “What can I get you?”

Her expression is brittle, but the spark of anger that I see flinting behind her eyes makes me feel a little better. “I’ll have an iced coffee with…” the man clears his throat, “skim milk.”

“Any flavor?” I ask, hoping he just swallowed a bug.

But then her eyes flit towards the man that I assume is her husband before she shakes her head.

Rage boils inside me, but I keep my mouth shut and take the man’s order, and credit card, without saying another word.

Leslie starts to make the paunchy man’s drink – a full fat, full flavor concoction he doesn’t deserve.

I’m debating, deciding if I should do it or not, when I see the shitty man make a nasty expression at the woman from across the shop.

“Fucker,” I whisper.

Then, with hands that are only kinda shaking, I add a pump of vanilla syrup to the woman’s drink. And since I’m in it now, I sub her skim milk with half and half.

If she takes a drink and hates it, I’ll pretend it was a mistake.

I hand off the doctored iced coffee to Leslie and busy myself with tidying the counter.

The couple is halfway to the exit when the woman takes a sip. Her steps slow and she takes another long pull from her straw then stops.

My pulse is thundering when she slowly turns her head back towards me. But the worry of reprimand vanishes when I see the wide-eyed look of appreciation on her face.

        “Olivia!” the man half shouts, holding open the door.

The woman spins around to follow, but as soon as the man’s back is turned, she holds her middle finger aimed at his back before following him out the door.

“Well,” Leslie huffs, “that guy was a royal prick.”

“Right?!” I rub my hands down the front of my jeans. “I still feel shaky.”

Leslie’s been working with me for years, meaning she knows how well I handle confrontation. Which is not well at all.

“Why don’t you go take a little break?” she suggests. “I can handle things out here for a bit.” Her eyes move past me, towards the door, and widen. “Holy moly! I can handle him for sure.”

“Leslie!” I try to scold her, but I’m laughing as I turn to look at whoever has caught her attention.

A blur of blue is approaching the front door, but the figure is blocked by a pair of senior ladies about to exit.

Just as the women reach the door, it’s pulled open for them.

The person holding the door is standing just out of view, but I can see the hand hooked around the edge of the door. A hand covered in familiar flame tattoos.

“See? Told ya,” Leslie nudges my shoulder with hers.

The ladies clear the doorway, and Axel steps through.

And sweet Jesus, he looks so damn handsome I almost fall to my knees.

His giant frame is covered in a set of navy-blue coveralls. Or I should say he’s mostly covered. His sleeves are rolled up to the elbow and the zipper that should run up the center of his chest is unzipped all the way down to his waist, exposing the tight black shirt he’s wearing underneath.

Letting the door swing shut behind him, Axel reaches up and runs his fingers through his hair – getting it out of his face. And that’s when I notice the sunglasses.

Lord help me, I want Axel to fuck me while wearing this exact outfit.

Leslie clears her throat, probably hoping to snap me out of my daze before this customer sees me staring at him with my tongue lolling out.

Then Axel pulls his sunglasses off, revealing piercing blue eyes that are locked on mine.

“Oh, wow,” Leslie says- and it’s what I’m thinking.

“Sorry,” I smile, “this one’s mine.”

“Of course he is,” she sighs.

Axel strides towards us and for the first time ever I wish for the athleticism to hop over the counter.

His footsteps stop when he’s directly across from me. “Hey.”

His simple greeting, lined with a hint of uncertainty, turns my smile into a grin. “Hey, Big Guy. What brings you to my little corner of the world this morning?”

There’s a tiny shift in his stance as he sheds any last trace of doubt. “I think morning ended a couple minutes ago, Baby Doll.” I glance at the clock, seeing that he’s right. Then he lifts a white paper bag that I hadn’t noticed was grasped in his hands. “Thought you might be hungry.”

My jaw literally drops.

No one has brought me lunch since… ever. No one has ever brought me lunch.

This handsome, sweet-as-hell man is gonna be the end of me.

“Well, go on now,” Leslie pipes up, “Don’t keep the man waiting.”

Axel looks away from me for the first time, holding his big hand out to Leslie, “Axel. Nice to meet you.”

She shakes his hand but turns her head to face me. “If you don’t go join this beefcake for lunch, I’ll gladly take your place.”

I roll my eyes and step back from the counter. “Axel, will you grab a table? I’ll be there in a sec.”

With a nod, he turns and heads towards an empty spot in the corner.

“When you date, you fucking date.” Leslie fans her face and I snicker, getting to work.

A couple minutes later, I approach the table Axel’s at and gently set a steaming mug in front of him.

“Here’s your latte, Darling.”

I start to step away, but Axel’s hand darts out, catching me by the hip. The small contact is enough to send my heart into a stuttering gallop.

“I like you calling me that,” his voice is low, but I feel the rumble roll down my spine.

My stomach tightens. Not with dread but with need.

“Darling?” I whisper.

He nods.

I bite my lip, my blush building before I even ask the question, “I thought you liked when… I called you something else.”

His eyes darken and I know he knows what I’m talking about.

Axel’s fingers dig into the flesh at the top of my ass, pulling me closer. His voice quiet enough so only I can hear. “You can call me Darling in public, but it’s Daddy in the bedroom.”

The color in my cheeks spikes as I drench my panties. “O-okay.”

His grip loosens until his hand is falling away from my body. “Unless you have a soundproofed room in back, I’m gonna need you to take a step back and sit down.”

My cheeks expand with an exhale as I shuffle over to the chair opposite him.

“This looks good,” Axel says, reaching for the mug.

“I went with fully caffeinated this time,” I tell him. “Hope that’s okay.”

He grunts in return, already busy lifting the drink to his lips. The movement pauses when he notices the small heart I formed in the foam covering the sweet liquid.

His lips quirk, “Cute.”

My lips press together.

Axel should look ridiculous holding my dainty pink mug, but no amount of gold leaf could make him look anything less than ruggedly handsome.

His eyes briefly close as he takes a swallow, then he shakes his head as he lowers the cup. “You spoil me.”

Joy fills my chest even as I half collapse against the table. “Says the man who apparently brought me lunch.”

He’s still shaking his head. “These dumb sandwiches have nothing on-” he taps his finger against the handle of the pretty cup, “whatever this is.”

“It’s a white chocolate hazelnut latte,” I tell him. “And any sort of sandwich sounds amazing right now. I forgot to bring a lunch and if you hadn’t come, I probably would’ve eaten nothing but muffins all day.”

Axel takes another mouthful of his latte before he starts pulling the paper-wrapped lunch from the bag.

“I just got two of my usual order,” Axel tells me as he sets a sandwich the length of my forearm down in front of me.

“You sure it’s big enough?”

The look Axel tosses me over my word choice, has me blushing all over again.