Irish Coffee

Côme “I.R.I.S.H.” Acadian was the type of man who scared the shit out of people, but Alchemy wasn’t the least bit scared so either that made her something other than ‘people’ or I.R.I.S.H.’s mean was slipping. The moment she laid eyes on him, Alchemy had decided that a) her best friend’s husband M.O.C.H.A. had the finest group of friends ever and b) I.R.I.S.H. was going to have her babies. And then he spoke. The only thing she wanted to come out of the fine man’s mouth was his promise to give her girl head every day for the next millennia but what came out was one-hundred percent, undiluted sexy. Sounding like one of the mutants from her favorite comic books, it took everything she had not to beat him to the immaculate marble floor and ride him to Mardi Gras.

Handpicked by the CFO of Serranías Holdings to be the newest member of their billion-dollar company, ex Special Forces turned consultant Côme Acadian had spent the past several months politely declining the CFO’s attempts to get him to move from New Orleans to Atlanta. The fact was that Louisiana was home and his obligation to the Navy meant that he’d spent far too long away from it. Now that he was free to come and go as he chose, he was staying put and nothing could sway him. Not more money, not the numerous perks dangled in front of him…nothing. And then on a visit to Atlanta, he set eyes on Alchemy Coffee and witnessed her do a shimmy. Côme knew that woman was trouble so he did what any sane man would do. He hightailed it home, packed his shit and less than forty-eight hours later was the newest resident of the Peach State. He may’ve waited a long time to come home, but it’d only taken looking into Alchemy’s eyes to realize that home was wherever she was.