Take My Hand by Missouri Vaun

Author:Missouri Vaun [Vaun, Missouri]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635551051
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2018-05-09T16:00:00+00:00

* * *

Clay had overslept so she hadn’t had time to make coffee before getting to the shop to open up. She only managed to beat Eddie by a couple of minutes. Bo was late as usual. After one cup of her grandpa’s brand of gas station coffee, she decided to make a drink run to Hot Buns.

“Do you want anything?” She jangled her keys.

“Nah, I’m good.”

Eddie had lower standards for his morning brew than Clay. Urban coffee shops had ruined her. Luckily, her friend Preston had an espresso machine, and he was only minutes away. She debated taking the tow truck so she could get the coffee to go, but it was big and hard to park anywhere along Main Street. She’d just ride her bike and drink it there. Today seemed like a slow day at the garage anyway.

The morning rush had died down and there was no one in line when she arrived, although the place was at capacity. A low-level hum of conversation and the hiss of steam from the frother greeted her as she approached the front counter to order.

“Hi, Preston, can I get a latte?”

“Hi, sweetie. For here or to go?”

Preston Howard III made gay look good. He was tall and fit with killer good looks. He had light brown hair with perfect blond sun-bleached streaks and a perpetual tan. He was also a great wingman when her bestie, Trip, wasn’t available, and Clay was in the mood to hit the clubs in Savannah. But that hadn’t happened in a long time. Not since before she moved to New York City and then moved back, under a cloud of failure.

“I’m on the bike, so not exactly hands-free this morning.” She fished in her pocket for cash. “I’ll just drink it here.”

Preston gave the barista her order, then leaned conspiratorially across the counter toward her. “Hottie, two o’clock.” He made the slightest motion of his head toward the front corner of the bakery.

“What? Where?” She followed his gaze to see River, head down, taking a sip of her coffee in between bursts of typing on her phone.

“Am I right or am I right?”

“You’re not wrong.” Clay hadn’t seen River until Preston pointed her out, and River still hadn’t seen her. “She’s beautiful.” She spoke quietly enough that only Preston would have been able to hear it, and only if he’d been listening intently.

“Then why are you still standing here?”

“You’re making me a latte, remember?”

“And then what?”

“I’m thinking.”

Preston shook his head and smiled. “No guts no glory,” he muttered under his breath.

“That line only really works in war movies, you know.” She crossed her arms and waited for her coffee. Maybe Preston was right; it did take a certain amount of emotional fortitude to put yourself out there. She needed to man up. Or not.

“Still driving that truck?” He tweaked an eyebrow as he passed a cup, along with her order, to the cute barista nearby.

“It’s a living.”

“I’m just waiting for the morning when you stroll

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