Love and Lattes

Table of Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Note from the Publisher

Dedication

Trademarks Acknowledgement

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

About the Author

Also by Author

Love and Lattes

A
Meadow Ridge
Romance

Heather Thurmeier

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Cover Artist: Reese Dante

Editor: Leslie Brown

Love and Lattes © 2011 Heather Thurmeier

ISBN # 9781920501143

Attention Readers:
This book uses US English.

All rights reserved.

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED:
This literary work may not be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, including electronic or photographic reproduction, in whole or in part, without express written permission. All characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead is strictly coincidental. The Licensed Art Material is being used for illustrative purposes only; any person depicted in the Licensed Art Material, is a model.

PUBLISHER

https://spsilverpublishing.com

Note from the Publisher

Dear Reader,

Thank you for your purchase of this title. The authors and staff of Silver Publishing hope you enjoy this read and that we will have a long and happy association together.

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Publisher

Silver Publishing

http://www.spsilverpublishing.com

Dedication

To my little ones,

may you one day reach your dreams as I've just reached mine.

To my family and friends,

thank you for your support, encouragement, and for coming on this journey with me.

To my husband,

you are my proof that a person can live their dreams every day and my reason for believing so wholeheartedly in love stories.

Trademarks Acknowledgement

The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of the following wordmarks mentioned in this work of fiction:

Blackberry
: Research in Motion Limited Corporation

Botox: Allergan, Inc.

BMW
: Bayerische Motoren Werke Akteingesellschaft Corporation

Harvard
: President and Fellows of Harvard College Charitable Corporation

Hermes
: Hermes Corporation France

IKEA
: IKEA Svenska Aktiebolag

Louis Vuitton
: Vuitton Et Fils S.A.R.L. Corporation France

Mercedes
: Daimler-Benz Aktiengesellschaft Corporation

The Dresden Files
, by Jim Butcher

Valium
: Hoffmann-La Roche Inc.

Wicked Witch of the West
: Turner Entertainment Co.

Chapter One

Elbowing her way through the crowd, Julia Walker finally reached the bar and attempted to flag down a bartender. She wiggled her fingers at the one nearest her as he walked by. Of course, he stopped at a woman further down and leaned across the bar to hear her order. As far as she could see, other people seemed to be trying the same tactic as her own. If the drinks lining the edge of the bar were any indication, all of them had apparently been more successful than she had.

Sighing, Julia propped her head in her hand and resigned herself to the fact she wasn't likely to get a drink anytime soon. In a normal setting, people looked right through her. Why had she thought the bar would be any different?

Why is coming to the club fun?

Maybe if she was tall and blonde, with her breasts bursting out of her top like so many of the other women she saw around the bar, she'd stand a chance of being noticed. But, with her straight black hair falling slightly above her shoulders and a dress only providing a hint of what hid underneath, she simply couldn't compete.

She surveyed the dance floor from her position at the bar but couldn't make out her friend anywhere in the sea of people. Julia had never been to Oasis before, even though there were only three clubs in the neighborhood. Her friend and roommate Tali had sworn she'd stay by her side so Julia wouldn't end up standing alone and bored the entire night.
But where's Tali now?
They'd gotten separated almost as soon as they'd entered the bar, with men naturally flocking to Tali's side, hoping for her attention.

The club was inside the gates of Meadow Ridge, so all the customers were either born and raised in the Meadow—which meant they were stinking rich—or they were students from the local university like she was—which meant they were dirt poor and barely scrimping by on meager student loans. Tali fell easily into the first group and Julia did not. Somehow, they'd remained friends regardless of the difference in their bank account balances.

Julia turned away from the dance floor and back to the bar. She needed a drink soon. She was already dehydrated from the hot, sweaty club and hadn't even danced yet. Sending her most award-winning smile directly at the bartender, she waved her hand again. He looked right past her to the girl in the see-through dress, which may as well have been non-existent for all the coverage the flimsy material provided.

A man in a dark blue button-up shirt suddenly blocked her view. "Hey," he said, smiling at her with perfect Hollywood teeth, bending down until his mouth brushed her earlobe. His warm breath caressed her delicate skin. "You look like you could use a drink. Can I get you one?"

You could get me more than a drink, I'm sure.

He must have been about six feet tall, with the most gorgeous sandy-brown hair. His features were sharp and defined with a strong jaw and chiseled cheekbones. Even though she could tell he was only a couple of years older than she was, he looked far too distinguished to be mingling in a club full of students and twenty-something singles. The warmth of his breath at her neck sent a tingle along her flesh.

"You can try." She finally found her voice enough to answer him. "I haven't had much luck yet."

"What'll you have?"

"A Cosmo."

He leaned across the bar and instantly a bartender wandered over to take his order.

How'd he do that?

She couldn't hear his words over the sounds of music pounding through the club, but moments later a frosty martini glass filled with bright pink liquid was at her lips. The tart cranberry instantly quenched her thirst as the heat of the liquor quieted the butterflies in her stomach.

"Thanks," she shouted, hoping he could hear her over the noise. She reached into the small clutch she'd brought filled with essentials and pulled out a couple of neatly folded bills. Before she could offer them to him, he put his hand on hers, shaking his head.

She should have insisted on paying. She wanted to pay. But the moment his hand touched hers, every thought she'd ever had vanished. The only thing she could focus on was the heat of his touch. His hand lingered on hers and she would swear she could feel actual sparks firing against her skin.
Does that really happen to people?

She'd read plenty of romance novels that talked about the chemistry—the spark between two people—but she'd always thought an actual spark sounded a bit farfetched. Stuff like that didn't happen in real life, did it?

Her eyes sought his, finding the most interesting kaleidoscope of colors she'd ever seen. Flecks of blue, brown, and green intermingled to create eyes she wanted to stare at forever. "The next one's on me."

"There'll be another?" He gave her a teasing grin.

Oh, damn.
She began to sweat and wondered if her assumption about another drink had been completely wrong. When he'd bought her this drink, he was probably just trying to be nice to the poor, thirsty girl at the bar. He most likely had a girlfriend somewhere in the club waiting for him right now and wondering where he was.

"No, I didn't mean that. I just wanted to repay you for this drink since you were so nice to buy me one. That's all. I'm sure you have someone else to buy you the next drink, so you won't need me too. Of course it's not like you need anyone to buy you a drink, I'm sure you can afford to buy your own drinks—" She shook her head and sighed under her breath. Damn it. At the ripe old age of twenty-two, she still couldn't speak to men without getting flustered.

His grin spread across his face and she thought she heard a small chuckle escape his lips, but it was impossible to know for sure over the dance music relentlessly thumping through the speakers. "On second thought, I'd love it if you'd buy the next round."

He's exceptionally cute when he smiles
.

They talked for a few more minutes while they sipped their drinks, but hearing each other was difficult over the noise. They ended up standing at the bar looking at each other. She wondered what to do next.

"Let's grab another drink and find a place to sit. Cool?" He looked at her and she couldn't help but say yes. How could anyone say no to those eyes?

"Sure, if you can magically find us somewhere to sit in this madhouse, you might just be my new best friend."

"Another Cosmo?"

"Yeah, but this one's on me, remember?" Julia reached into her clutch and pulled out the folded bills, handing them to him. She accidentally brushed her fingertips against his palm and the electricity sparked between them again.

He smiled warmly. "If you insist." He took the money from her hand and turned to the bartender, who appeared as if he'd been subliminally beckoned.

A few minutes later, they carried their new drinks through the crowded room. She followed close behind him, worried she'd lose him in the chaos. She stopped when he ducked under the red velvet rope restricting access to an additional seating area alongside the dance floor on the opposite side from the bar.

"I don't think we're supposed to go back there," she said in a more normal volume. Talking became somewhat easier as soon as they moved away from the dance floor and the DJ's speakers. She looked around but didn't see any other groups of people on the couches.

Are we really allowed back here?

"It's fine. I actually know the owner." He motioned for her to join him. "If you want to sit, this might be the only available place."

Julia scanned the area quickly. The restricted area was private, but not secluded. Other bar goers would see them sitting here, but she doubted any of them would be foolish enough to risk getting a visit from the bouncers by crossing the velvet line.

"You're sure this is okay?"

"Absolutely. Don't worry about getting in trouble. I know the bouncers too." He could practically read her mind.

She held her drink precariously in one hand then ducked under the rope, carefully holding the hem of her dress so it didn't ride up too much. She took a seat on the couch and her breath caught in her throat as he sat beside her, his knee brushing hers. Goose-bumps rose across the bare skin between where her boots stopped and her dress began.

She took a deep sip of her drink, hoping to calm her pulse as it raced through her body. "So how do you know everyone who works here? Do you work here or something?"

"No I don't work here. I grew up here so I sort of know everyone. Or at least I thought I did." His gaze settled on hers. "I don't think I know you. I'm pretty sure I'd remember meeting you."

She swallowed the lump in her throat. Every word out of his mouth made her head spin. What was that about?

"So what's your name? I can't just call you 'Cosmo' all night."

"I'm Julia." She took another sip of her drink to buy herself a moment while she tried to clear her head enough to form coherent sentences. "And you are?"

"Chase. It's nice to meet you." He smiled again. God, she could stare at his smile all night long. "So—where are your friends or, um, you know, whoever you came here with? Aren't they going to miss you while you're over here with me?"

Please, don't have a girlfriend.

"I'm solo tonight. Lame to come to the bar by myself, I know." He looked down at the drink in his hand.

Damn. Now I've made him feel bad.

"I'm basically here by myself too. I mean, I came with a friend, but she disappeared the second we walked in the door. Haven't seen her since."

"Wanna go find her?" He caught her gaze. "I can walk around with you until you find her if you're ready to meet up with her again."

Hell no.

"I'm good here—with you."

He set his drink down on the table in front of them and leaned back against the couch, his arm draped across the back of the cushions casually, as if he were sitting in his own living room instead of a crowded bar. She wondered for a moment if she should sit back too, but if she did, his arm would essentially be around her shoulders. Would he find that weird? Would she?

He moved his hand off the back of the couch and brushed her hair off her shoulder. His fingertips skimmed the bare skin of her collarbone and time ceased to exist. All she could focus on was the electricity of his touch on her skin and his piercing eyes as his gaze penetrated her, warming her insides instantly.

When he moved his hand back to the couch, she instinctually followed him, leaning back against the couch so his hand inadvertently rested on her shoulder again. She curled her legs up onto the couch beneath her, forcing herself to face him. He responded with a hand on her knee. A warm hand—a large hand she'd like to feel slide up her thigh.

Whoa. You're officially cut off from any more alcohol.

She had no idea how much time had passed when he spoke again.

"You from around here or just in the neighborhood for school?" Chase retrieved his drink from the table and took a sip while she tried to formulate an answer. She pulled her gaze from where the heat of his hand still lingered on her knee and finally found her voice.

"Just here for school."

"I thought your New York accent sounded a little funny."

"That's 'cause it's a mid-western accent. I thought it was pretty obvious I'm not from around here." Julia scanned the pulsating dance floor, which was full of women in designer labels that undoubtedly cost more than a month's worth of rent in Julia's world. Not something you'd see in a club back home in Ohio. Cleveland wasn't a hick town, but it wasn't exactly a thriving fashion metropolis either.

"Sometimes it's good not to be like everyone else."

Even through the overpowering noise of the club, Julia could tell there was a new quality to his voice. She examined his expression, forgetting the women on the dance floor who made her feel inadequate, instead focusing on the man beside her. He seemed like he'd slipped into his own world momentarily, but before she had the chance to comment on his change, his attention was back on her, his gaze pinning her to the couch.

"Wanna dance?" His question broke the awkward moment between them.

Hell, yes!

"Sure."

They set down their glasses on the table and ducked back under the velvet rope to join the crowd. He grabbed her hand, twining his fingers through hers, and led her out to the dance floor. They moved to the beat as the music pounded through their bodies.

He's a good dancer.

People who'd drunk too much crowded the dance floor, making it impossible to move without constantly bumping shoulders and elbows with someone else. A drunken body fell into Julia, shoving her forward into strong, waiting arms. His arms circled her waist and she thought she saw him glare over her shoulder at the person who bumped her.

She quickly regained her feet underneath her, but his arms stayed around her waist, pulling her against him. She felt protected, dancing slowly with him like this, so intimately, even though the music was still beating fast and steady. Since he didn't seem to have any plans of removing his arms from around her body—she didn't really want him to anyway—she draped her arms around his shoulders, enjoying the feel of his body against hers.

So much time had passed since she'd last had a man pressed up against her. She welcomed the sensation of his body, so good—no… great.

As if hearing her thoughts, he spoke into her ear. "You feel so good." His breath was warm on her neck, the heat giving her tingles down her back and forcing her to arch into him uncontrollably.

"So do you."

"I'm a pretty lucky guy tonight."

"Why's that?" She wanted to know his answer since she'd been thinking the same thing. How did she get so lucky to have this perfectly amazing guy be interested in her—plain Julia in non-designer duds?

"Because somehow I managed to snag the prettiest girl in the room and convince her to dance with me."

He probably used the same line on every girl, but she still blushed regardless. "Nice line," she said.

Okay, so not exactly perfect with a cheesy pickup line, but still pretty damn close.