Cappuccino Kisses. Yahrah St. John

Cappuccino Kisses - Yahrah St. John


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investment. Her father was a traditionalist who had made much of his sizable wealth in real estate, and fully expected one of her brothers to follow in his footsteps, but they’d chosen their own path.

      Lillian’s of Seattle wasn’t some harebrained scheme. It was a family business, and with Aunt Lillian’s seal of approval, they would steadily build on the brand. And why shouldn’t they? Their cousins Carter and Drake, with their best friend, Malik, Belinda’s husband, had already successfully branched off from the family business with their Brothers Who Bake blog and successful cookbooks. They’d even gone on tours and there was discussion of a potential television series.

      Why shouldn’t the Seattle Draysons get in on the action? When Mariah had presented the idea to Jackson, he was on board immediately. Chase had taken a little more convincing. He’d been working for a successful accounting firm and wasn’t all that eager to give up that hefty paycheck, but eventually she and Jack had convinced him that with their aunt’s support, it was a sound investment.

      Mariah smiled as she, Lillian, Chase and Jackson posed for multiple pictures. Some were taken of them behind the display and a few others were outside in front of the stenciled Lillian’s of Seattle sign. Mariah was trying her best to grin from ear to ear, even though her cheeks hurt, when she saw a sexy fine man strolling up the sidewalk toward them. He was clean-shaven, with a short haircut, and was nearly as tall as Chase. He wore a tailored gray suit with a checkered dress shirt and blue tie. Everything about him screamed money, which only enhanced his sex appeal. It was definitely the man who made the clothes, not the other way around.

      Mariah didn’t know who he was and wasn’t altogether sure she wanted to, because the torrid sensations he was causing to flow through her body to the place between her thighs was making her feel flush all over.

      He stopped when he reached them and paused for several seconds as he surveyed Mariah up and down, before opening the glass storefront door and walking inside Lillian’s.

      “Mariah!” Jackson called.

      “What?” she asked, exasperated by the interruption.

      “One more picture,” the photographer said, when she turned back around after staring at the sexy stranger. Mariah forced herself to focus on the task at hand, and smiled buoyantly.

      When the session was over, Jackson whispered in her ear as she quickly headed to the front door. “What’s wrong with you?”

      She glanced back at him. “Nothing. Why?”

      “You just look funny, is all,” he commented as he followed her inside.

      “Well, I’m fine,” Mariah replied. Or so she hoped. She glanced around the bakery for the mystery man. It was easy to find him in the crowd, because he commanded attention. She gulped. Her breath hitched and heart lurched into an excited rhythm. Damn! From across the room he was openly admiring her, and she didn’t like the way he made her feel with just one hungry gaze. Her entire being yearned for something she couldn’t quite name, didn’t want to name. Why was this man having such a profound effect on her?

      * * *

      Everett Myers was intrigued. Not just by the new pastry shop that had just opened, but by the beautiful siren he’d seen standing outside by the sign. Who was she? And how could he meet her?

      He’d come to find out if Lillian’s was as good as the critics claimed, but as soon as he’d walked toward the group and photographer standing outside, he’d liked what he’d seen. Smooth caramel-toned skin, a pert little nose and straight honey-blond hair had Everett licking his lips. It wasn’t as if she was dressed provocatively, either. She was stylish and classic in a cream blazer over a coral top, but it was the sexy blue jean skirt hugging her behind, allowing him to make out her curves, that had him standing at attention. She had to be in the neighborhood of mid-twenties, which suited him just fine. God, what’s wrong with me? he wondered.

      Deep down, he knew what. It had been a long time, too long, since he’d felt this way. Sure, she’d seen him when he approached, but since she’d reentered the establishment, she’d been doing her best to ignore him.

      Everett wasn’t used to being ignored. With him being six foot two, it was impossible not to see him coming. Plus, everyone in Seattle knew who he was. The Myers Hotel chain was synonymous with luxury and class, and had been a staple in the urban community for nearly thirty years. If people didn’t know him personally, they knew of him or knew his name. He supposed that’s why he was irked that the young woman who’d caught his eye was doing her best to feign ignorance at his blatant appreciation of her.

      Just at that moment, the beautiful siren turned and glanced toward him. He flashed her a smile, but she quickly looked away. Damn, had he really lost his charm? He had been off the market the last nine years. He’d married Sara, his college sweetheart, when he was only twenty-one, and their son, Everett Jr.—EJ for short—was born soon after. But five years ago a tragic accident had taken Sara’s life.

      It wasn’t easy being a widowed father at the grand old age of thirty, but he was doing his best to provide a loving, stable home for EJ. Up until now, he hadn’t been eager to give EJ a new mom. Had he had opportunities? Heck, yeah! When he’d been single, Everett had often had women propositioning him, but as soon as he’d been widowed it got worse. They were all too eager to find out exactly how many zeros were in his bank account.

      Or was he being too cynical? Maybe they just pitied him and felt his then three-year-old son needed a mother. And maybe EJ did back then, but Everett hadn’t had it in him to even think about marrying again. He wasn’t sure he could stand losing someone else he loved. And so he’d remained a bachelor the last five years, and quite frankly, had been content with the single life. Until now.

      Determinedly, he strode over to where the gorgeous woman stood, speaking to a small group of people. She glanced up when he approached, but said nothing.

      Instead, the man beside her, who had to be at least two inches taller than Everett, called out to him, “Everett Myers!” He held out his hand. “Pleasure to have you here.”

      Everett had no choice but to accept the fervent handshake. “And you are?”

      “Chase Drayson,” the tall man answered. “Part owner of Lillian’s.”

      Everett caught the word part and looked the siren whom he’d fancied from across the room directly in the eye. Except now, standing so close to her, he found she was even more striking. “And you, would you be a part owner, as well?”

      Her eyebrows furrowed. “Yes, but how could you tell?”

      Everett inclined his head toward the door. “You were outside taking photos earlier, and I couldn’t help but notice you.”

      His observation caused her to blush and she lowered her eyes, but that didn’t stop the tall man from continuing the conversation, even though Everett wished he would go away and give them some privacy so he could get to know her better.

      “We’re all part owners,” Chase offered. “Mariah, myself and our brother, Jackson, over there,” He motioned to a man across the room surrounded by a group of young female customers sampling pastries from a platter he held.

      “Mariah...” Everett let her name dangle on his lips. “It’s nice to meet you.” He offered her his hand.

      Something shifted in the air between them. Something Everett hadn’t felt in a long time. Awareness. Sexual awareness of another person, but not just any person. Her. It was several moments before she finally accepted his hand with a smile. “Pleasure to meet you.”

      A current of electricity passed between them at the slight touch, but then, as if Everett had imagined it, it was gone.

      “What brings you by our little establishment?” Chase inquired.

      Everett breathed in deeply. Clearly, her brother wasn’t getting the hint that he wanted to be alone with his sister, so he needed to be blunt. “Perhaps I can explain to Mariah?” he asked, holding out his arm. “As she gives me a


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