BRIARVILLE, CALIFORNIA
My feet ached from standing all day, but the chance to be alone with Duke was worth it. After going years without seeing him, it surprised me to learn when I got off the bus a month ago that he was hot as hell. I never thought of him that way when I was little, but something about the hint of silver in his hair now drove me wild.
I never imagined myself falling for someone my dad’s age, but holy shit, Duke was smoking. I’d been enjoying that fact while staying in my private room in the huge house he lived in all by his lonesome, getting up at the crack of dawn every morning to toss alfalfa flakes to the horses in his boarding stable before going to work in his café.
It wasn’t exactly feeding kids, nor was there any milking involved, but I had to admit the colts were pretty sweet. I missed the babies back home a lot, and that was just one more reason God gave me to hate Hoss.
As I wiped down the tables, the sinking sun shone through the front window in the café, highlighting the glint of Duke’s brown eyes and tanned skin as he worked on the espresso machine behind the counter, his biceps bulging. I felt his presence around the café even when he wasn’t there and continuously watched the door for him more than I wanted to admit.
“That should do it, Clover,” he murmured, his dark eyes unreadable as he leaned across the counter and wiped his hands with a kitchen towel, making his forearms flex in a way I found quite disturbing. “You certain you’ve been doing a two-second flush of the shower screen after every brew, like I taught you?”
There it was. That strict command of his which made my entire body fill with an awareness of longing.
Being a barista wasn’t as easy as it looked. I knew farming. I was born into it and remained on my parents’ property way longer than was acceptable in the outside world—the world outside tending animals for a living—because my parents needed me. Raising goats for milk, soap, and cheese, we made enough to maintain the buildings and pay the bills, which was saying a lot nowadays for a small farm. That was another reason I resented that gastropod whose sausage I’d zapped. I wasn’t there to help them anymore.
Even I could see how living at home until age twenty-eight might delay my adolescence. Faith and I had each other for companionship, and living on the land where I’d grown up was easy.
Cozy and familiar. Not exactly an environment that made me want to leave.
But when the back of Duke’s fingers brushed against my arm as he reached for a tea towel, it was worth every ounce of the trouble that brought me here.
A jolt of electricity surged in my blood, and the air became charged with energy as his skin moved lightly against mine. My body erupted into tiny goose bumps, and a hot-cocoa warmth spread through my being, as café mocha flowed through my veins. Sweet, liquid heat that jolted me awake.
I was more alert than I’d ever been in my life.
Every cell in my body awakened in a sudden rush, humming with an electricity I’d never known.
Not including the cattle prod, of course.
“Promise.” I sighed, like all of a sudden, he was a stranger. Someone it pained me to be close to, and it made me ache.
A lot.
Only not in the way I expected. “I listen to what you say. You’re the one in charge.” I whispered, “Boss.”
The words that left his lips could have been stated innocently, but the way they landed between my legs was anything but. “Good girl.”
I tried to keep my expression neutral, but his nutmeg-colored eyes were so determined that I stiffened and colored fiercely. His touch lingered for a moment, then cautiously pulled away, but even then, he held my gaze for a few seconds longer than would be polite.
Was I imagining it? Or in the moment when our eyes locked, did he spark a tiny sprinkling of hope within me? It seemed highly likely there was something here worth exploring beyond the strict boss-employee rapport.
Something I’d never encountered.
A relationship with a real man.
After all, the café was empty.
No one was watching.
What would he do if I hopped on that counter and spread my legs for him to slide between?
Everything he did—his smiles, his jokes, his occasional grouchiness—filled me with an ease I’d been chasing after all my life without even knowing it. Even when he scolded me for improper espresso machine maintenance, I thought it was adorable. And when I laughed at him for being grumpy, it was always like someone popped a pin in his bad temper, which melted away beneath my delight.
That was the word, all right.
Duke delighted me. And no man, other than my father, had ever accomplished that.
Holy moly.
As evidenced by the way my heart hammered against my ribcage like a wild thing trying to escape its cage, I had a crush on my dad’s best friend.
Later that day, I beamed with pride as I walked into the bank, still wearing my apron from The Daily Grind. It was only my second paycheck. Duke let me handle the bookkeeping, pay bills for the café, as well as make deposits after learning I had a head for numbers and had helped out my parents with the same. I even sent a portion of my wages back home to help my parents. As I counted out the money I had in hand, it felt like an incredible accomplishment—to have cash of my own that I could use however I wanted.
I stepped out of the bank onto the sidewalk, and the anticipation of a new adventure came to life. I peered up at a small boutique shop I’d spotted from afar. The inviting shop, called Spell on You, seemed to ooze with girly secrets, and I was ready to unlock every single glittery, shiny one of them displayed in the window. I entered the doors and was in awe of what I found. Every item captivated my attention, but there was one dress that beckoned me closer—a little black number that matched my curves as if it had been made just for me.
When I walked out of the dressing room to look in the mirror, it felt like an entirely different adaptation of myself was blossoming from beneath the fabric, and I couldn’t help but smile.
I looked woman enough for Duke.
The shop clerk was helpful as she helped me into the dress and explained how to adjust the straps to fit my body perfectly. She complimented my figure and my complexion, saying, “You’re simply stunning.”
I actually believed her, and before I knew it, I walked out of the store with a bag full of purchases, including the little black number and a pair of strappy heels to match. As I strolled back towards the café, I couldn’t help but wonder what Duke would think when he saw me wearing it.
Either way, I knew one thing for sure: This dress changed everything. I wanted to show off this new version of myself to the person whose opinion mattered most to me right now—Duke himself.
Later that evening, he seemed nervous as we closed up shop at The Daily Grind. He fidgeted with the change in his pocket in a way I’d never seen him do before, and tension filled the air. All day, I’d been waiting for this moment, every conversation and pounding of my heart building up to this one occasion. He said he’d take me to the Moonstone Grill, which was nestled on the coast right at the beach. It was a place where we could watch the sunset over the Pacific while sipping a cocktail, and the photos on the internet let me know I’d never been somewhere so ritzy. Duke was taking me there to have dinner as a celebration of my first month working at the café.
Always the perfect gentleman, he meant it as a platonic outing between coworkers, the father figure and his mentor. But in my mind, it was one thing and one thing only.
He was asking me out on a date.
Back at his place, I took my time getting ready, since I wanted to make a good impression. Unlike most days, I blow-dried my hair instead of throwing it up into a no-maintenance ponytail, and I liked the way my brown waves tumbled over my shoulder. I swiped mascara on my lashes and applied pink lip gloss. Finally, I put lotion on all over and opted for bare legs as I stepped into my dress and heels, slipping on a pair of silky pink panties for good measure.
In his black, button-down shirt, he radiated a vitality which drew me to him like a magnet. I tried to ignore the strange aching in my limbs that he induced. Apart from that, he was a steady, sane, supportive aura that made me want to spill all my beans for him. Tonight, when wearing my special dress, I’d have the guts to pull it off.
And maybe more.
I blew all the breath out of my lungs to calm myself and made a wish that all my dreams would come true, and Duke would finally lay his hands on me. Failing that, I prayed for the courage to make the first move.
I put my hand on the rail as protection against falling on my face, unsteady as I was with the extra height of my shoes, and when I looked up, he was there.
Staring as if he were trying to memorize me.
My heart skipped a beat, then turned over and finally thundered in my chest.
He looked as though the curves of my body mesmerized him, and I felt like I’d won the lottery. But then, his eyes widened, and he turned away, grabbing my coat from the rack and breaking the spell.
But I wouldn’t forget what I’d seen in his gaze. A look that told me he couldn’t help but imagine what it would be like to be with me. Naked. And I planned on encouraging that line of questioning any way I could until he was powerless to resist.
He wrapped me in my overcoat and said, “Let me help you with that.”
I held my breath as he buttoned me up.
“We don’t want you to catch a chill,” he firmly noted.
There was no chance of that. My entire body was on fire at the slight tug of his fingers on my buttons, which plucked at the fabric of my coat so I felt it along the sides of my breasts. Immediately, my nipples stiffened, and I wanted so much to lean into him. To place my face at the crook of his neck and breathe in, but I resisted.
The scent of his cologne lingered in the cab of his truck, and the rumble of the engine vibrated through my seat, exacerbating the steady fluttering between my legs since descending the stairs and feeling his eyes on me.
And while I was guilty of staring at his brawny forearms as they managed the wheel, he was just as culpable for taking side glances at my long, bare legs in the space beside him when he thought I wouldn’t notice.
It made it seem like I might float right off the seat; it felt like winning.
As he turned the corner and parked in front of the establishment on the cliff over the ocean, it was as if we were on an adventure together. I turned to watch him shift into reverse, and the setting sun highlighted his strong jawline.
The restaurant was fancier than any place I’d ever been. Carved of old wood, the bar formed an oval in the center of the vast room, around which patrons sat on high stools, making it appear like we were on a movie set.
Duke took my coat and said softly, “You may be a down-to-earth girl from the farm, Clover, but you look like you’re handmade in the heavens tonight.” His words hung in the air as I looked away, my face flushed with surprise.
He reached out and tucked a strand of hair behind my ear. Then he hung up my coat for me and walked with the host to our table, which faced the beach, well away from the other diners. He pulled my chair out for me with none of the awkwardness of a man just doing it for show. The month we’d spent together, he’d proven himself a true gentleman, never so much as laying a hand on me.
And I planned on ending that tonight.
I was hungry in more ways than one, and he encouraged me to order whatever I wanted. “Will it bother you if I have a glass of wine?” I asked.
“Not at all.” With a firm sense of conviction that I’d grown to recognize as his character, he explained, “Alcohol will always be a trigger for me, but I have a solid recovery foundation and years of sobriety behind me. I appreciate your asking, though, Clover. Not everyone would think to do so.”
Next, my crush ordered half a dozen oysters on the half shell for starters and asked, “You’re twenty-eight, and you’ve really never had them?”
When I remarked, “No,” he shook his head.
I blushed, feeling like an awkward country bumpkin.
The waiter placed them in front of me, and I forced myself to swallow one of the slimy morsels, trying not to look disgusted. Duke watched with amusement as I choked it down. Newsflash: It was gross.
And I didn’t need the side effect people purported them to deliver—feeling plenty horny without the added aphrodisiac, thank you very much.
“What did you think?” he asked.
“I’ve had nothing like it,” I said, and his smile widened in approval.
His dark eyes glittered as he replied, “I like that. Giving you your first.”
My pulse quickened, and suddenly I was tripping on the oyster’s after-effect. I wanted to lean in and kiss him, but I knew it was wrong. Clearly, my thoughts about him had nothing to do with reason.
“Duke, I think you should know...” I said quietly, refusing to look at him for fear I’d lose my courage. “The way I feel about you... it’s not normal.”
Our server returned, taking up the appetizer plate and setting my fried chicken and his New York steak on the table while we sat stiffly staring at one another across the fine china, cutlery, and white tablecloth.
The waiter departed, and Duke shook his head, leaning over the table, his voice soft but unyielding. “If there is one thing I’ve learned in life, it’s that there is no such thing as ‘normal’. All that matters is that we respect each other and acknowledge our feelings.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “And I would do nothing to hurt you or make you feel uncomfortable. You or your father.”
I finally looked up at him, my expression one of surprise and disbelief. I opened my mouth to speak, but no words came out. Then I managed to whisper, “But I might. Maybe I have to do it for the both of us if you won’t. Because I can’t help thinking that maybe this could be something special.”
Duke rubbed a hand over his closely cropped beard and shifted his weight, discomfort etching the lines around his mouth. “It’s wrong, if I understand what you’re saying to me. I need you to respect that I’m trying my hardest here, Clover,” he said, voice gruff with emotion. “Your father asked me to do him a favor by taking you in, and I can’t break that trust.”
The half glass of wine under my belt boosted my bravery, and I declared, “It’s not wrong if I want you to. And I do.”