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But does he mean it…or am I just a favor to him?
Noah
If anyone had told me that coffee would change my life, I would have laughed.
Right up until I set eyes on Aspen Whatley at the local coffee shop, anyway.
She's everything right in this world.
But she's a little spitfire, hellbent on taking on the world by herself.
Knowing her brother wants me to keep an eye on her doesn't earn me any points.
Until her life is on the line, and she has nowhere to turn.
Now, she's looking over her shoulder, and I'm pissed about it.
No one threatens what belongs to me.
But I've been playing defense my entire life.
I'll protect this goddess and make her mine.
You can bet on that.
Chapter One
Aspen
"Aspen!"
I close my eyes with a groan as Jack Whitlock shouts my name, waving his arms over his head in a bid to get my attention. As if I didn't hear him yelling at me like the sky is falling. Everyone in The Golden Mug, the adorable little coffee shop where I work, heard him.
"Aspen!"
"Yes, Jack?"
"Why is there a delivery truck blocking half the parking lot?"
"Because you double-booked deliveries again." I continue wiping down the counter as I speak. "Margot's Coffee is blocking the alley. Sean had nowhere else to park his truck."
Jack whips his dark head toward the back of the shop, his handsome face the picture of shock. "Shit. It's Tuesday?"
I pause mid-swipe, genuinely curious how the man functions when he doesn't even know what day it is half the time. Actually, I'm not sure he even knows what state he's in half the time. Jack Whitlock, like a large chunk of the population of Silver Spoon Falls, is a millionaire. Or a billionaire. Or whatever you call men with more zeroes in their bank accounts than they could ever hope to spend.
Unlike most, however, Jack does not always have his life together. It's a mystery to me how the man made millions—or billions—when he's a hot mess half the time. He has a brilliant mind, but he needs a keeper. He adamantly refuses to hire an assistant, however. He swears they just get in his way. How he made it to forty-one is a mystery.
"Don't answer that," he mutters, waving me off before I can ask how he lost track of the days this time. I'm not even sure I want to know what's got him distracted now. The list is long, my shift just started, and it's already been a day. "It's too early for you to give me shit."
"Who me?" I bat my lashes at him and stow my wash rag beneath the counter to pour him a cup of coffee. "Never have I ever given you crap that wasn't deserved."
"Right." He snorts, making me smile. The man may be a menace, but he's a great boss. He's also a friend. At least enough of one not to fire me when I inevitably upset a customer, which happens all too often around here.
I am not here to take abuse from the under-caffeinated and overly crabby. My mouth could never…and it often doesn't. But Jack shrugs off the complaints and tells whoever I've upset to be nicer to his staff or not to come back. Most come back. I make fantastic coffee and killer scones. Plus, this is the only coffee shop downtown. It works in our favor.
"I guess I'll go deal with inventory." Jack sighs dramatically.
"Don't you dare. The last time you tried to help with inventory, I couldn't find anything for days."
