Lauren
From the moment I bump into him at the coffee shop, I know I am in trouble. The way he looks at me – confident as though he’s won me over already – tells me he’s unlike any other guy.
Lawrence isn’t a boy, he’s a man. And he’s pursuing me relentlessly.
During one whirlwind night together, he makes me feel things I never thought possible; shows me passion I’ve never known before. Could he be the one, or is our love doomed to fail like all the others who came before? You see, guys tend to run once they find out who I am…
Lawrence
Lauren is mine from the moment I first spotted her, she just doesn’t know it yet. When I put my mind to something – whether in business or in my personal life- I’m the sort of guy who follows through, normally.
I vow to woo Lauren, to convince her she’s the shining beacon that’s been missing in my world, when an unforeseen revelation ruins everything. Once I find out her last name, it opens up a world of complications. I’m in business with her father and he isn’t going to take kindly to our affair.
If I want a chance to claim her, just how much am I willing to give up – personally as well as professionally?
Note: this self-contained steamy holiday read may end up melting not just your Kindle, but your heart as well! If you love steamy body positive romance stories featuring confident older men and a curvy younger women, L. Moone’s Coffee Shop Girls series is going to tick all your boxes. Every book follows a different couple from the moment lightning first strikes all the way to their happily ever after. They can be read in any order, but for maximum enjoyment I suggest you start here, with some Fireworks.
Excerpt
Lauren
Four days left until our grand opening.
Although I want nothing more than to check my email, the icy winds force me to keep my hands deeply buried in the pockets of my coat. Until I get to safety, that is.
The coffee shop around the corner, with its quirky interior and extensive menu of piping hot caffeinated treats, is the perfect escape from the ungodly weather outside. I’d first found it a couple of months ago when I came down with Dad to inspect the building housing my new boutique.
At that time, I hadn’t even signed the lease yet, and look at me now!
“Hazelnut latte, queen size,” I say, while rubbing my frozen hands together.
Alice, who works here, smiles at me as she takes my money. “How’s work on the shop coming along?”
“Oh, you know. Every day a new fuck-up.”
“Ain’t that the truth.”
I take a seat near the tiny freestanding fireplace in the corner and peel off my gloves, which so far have done nothing to keep me warm. Maybe I should have a cute little gas fire installed at the shop also… No, don’t be silly, I tell myself. I’d have to change the layout and there’s simply no time!
As soon as the numbness wears off, I’ve got my phone in my hand and keep tapping ‘refresh’ over and over. As if that’ll speed things up.
But my much-awaited email doesn’t appear. Instead, I open WhatsApp and start typing a message to Emily, my best friend growing up and newly appointed business partner.
‘Morning, how are the invitations coming along? How many RSVPs?’
She doesn’t respond. She hasn’t even read the message yet, it seems. I suppose I shouldn’t expect her to. It’s only eight-thirty in the morning, and on top of that it’s the Saturday after Christmas. I can guess what she’s up to, and sleep has very little to do with it.
She’s been distracted ever since she got together with Ian, her boss at her old job. They’re a couple now and I’m happy for them. I have to be; I feel partially responsible for making it happen. But if we’re going to be ready on time for the opening, I need her to focus.
In the background, an email notification gets my nerves surging.
This is it.
My heart is hammering in my throat when I click on the subject line—“Tracking Information”—and follow the link to see my much-awaited shipment’s progress. I could use some good news.
“Monday?” I exclaim. “Bloody hell, that’s cutting it short.”
“Lauren!” Alice calls out from across the shop.
Finally! I rush to the counter and reach for the tall takeaway cup with my left hand, while typing a fresh message to Em with my right.
‘Delivery’s coming in on M-
But I don’t get the chance to finish it. The second I grab the cup, I feel a warm, much larger hand close on top of mine.
“Fuck me!” I gasp, almost dropping the phone onto the floor.
“In front of all these people?”
I look up at the man towering over me and am lost in the depths of his warm amber eyes. He’s a looker for sure. Tan skin, salt and pepper hair, and broad shoulders that appear strong enough to carry the world.
And if I hadn’t been so startled by our sudden contact, I might have handled this encounter with a lot more finesse. After the boys I’ve tried dating occasionally, it’s refreshing to encounter a real man.
“Excuse me?” I ask.
“You’re excused. May I have my coffee now?” he asks. The crinkles in the corner of his eyes tell me he’s got a few years on me. But like a fine whiskey, the extra maturity has only made him more delicious.
I glance down at our hands, which are still holding on to the same cup, and frown. “That’s my coffee. Alice called my name.”
“No, I think you’ll find that’s actually my coffee. But you’re welcome to it, if you give me your number.”
I frown and open my mouth to say something, but the words aren’t coming.
He’s very forward, this guy. Usually I’m the mouthy one wherever I go, but right now I just can’t think straight. Where’s a clever comeback when you really need one?
So, I’m left shaking my head while I wave Alice over.
“Is this my coffee, or his?” I ask.
She takes one look at my flustered face, then focuses on Mr. Tall, Dark & Handsome beside me and grins. “The slip says Lawrence. Sorry, girl, yours is up next.”
“Oh…” I loosen my grip on the cup, only to find that he’s still holding on tight. “Lawrence, is it?”
“Nice to meet you.” His tone has changed from playful to husky, and the way he’s staring at me unleashes a swarm of butterflies in my chest. “And you are?”
“Lauren!” Alice calls out, and slides an identical takeaway cup in my direction.
“Lauren,” he says slowly and deliberately.
Instantly I imagine him whispering it to me while we’re in bed. Stop it, woman!
“Hence my confusion,” I mutter.
I hate how nervous he makes me. I fancy myself a capable and independent woman, proprietor of my own business, even. And yet, in front of Lawrence I’m all teeth.
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