Page 43 of One Night Stand After Another
The scent of good coffee nearly took him out at the knees. Beneath the aroma of dark-roasted beans he smelled a complex spice blend that he wanted in his mouth immediately. They’d definitely discuss her career goals later, in detail, but right now he needed to find out what smelled so amazing. He grabbed Clara’s hand and pulled her straight to the counter. “What is that heavenly scent?”
The woman at the counter had a nest of rainbow dreadlocks coiled beneath a crocheted wrap. “The chocolate chai chippers just came out of the oven. Still warm. Coffee, too?” she asked with a smile.
“Definitely.” He smiled back at her. “Can I get a Slip Stitch Sandwich sent out to my friend in the red Honda CRV out front?” According to the menu, the sandwich was a barbecued veggie burger with onion rings, habañero cheese, and green goddess salad dressing. “And can I have another one to go, please?”
Clara was laughing at him.
“What?” he asked.
“Dessert first?” Her sexy smirk went right to his dick.
“With you? Always.” He bent to kiss her, not a quick peck, either. God, she felt good. When he finally made himself pull away, her eyes were shining, and he had more than a semi. “It’s easy to forget we’re in public sometimes.” He cleared his throat. “What else would you like to eat?”
She shook her head. “I’m too nervous to eat much. I’ve never taken a crocheting class. I told you I’m not a pro.”
Unbelievable.
He swiped his card and added a tip.
A minute later, their coffee and cookies were served on a tray embossed with inspirational quotes. He carried it to a small table by the window, intrigued by the number of customers in the little bakery café. Who would have thought knitting and crocheting would drive a bustling lunch business?
He picked up the palm-sized, chunky cookie and took a bite. Cinnamon, cardamom, and something he couldn’t identify kicked up the flavor of the chocolate in exactly the way he’d hoped. It was chewy but still had some crunch to it, and the chocolate was first class. “I considered myself a chocolate-chip cookie purist, but I may have just changed my mind.” He polished it off, then followed it with a sip of coffee that made him feel like his hair might stand on end in the best way possible. “I think I’m in love with this place.”
Signs on the stairs indicated that the classes were held on the second floor. “Should we check it out?”
She was done with her cookie, too. “Sure.”
They grabbed their cups and headed up, following two women carrying bags similar to the one Clara had on her shoulder.Must be a yarn thing, he decided.
The stairs crested into a big, open room with a gorgeous hardwood floor. There were three clusters of couches and several groupings of plush-looking armchairs. One class looked like it was already in session on the far side of the room. There was a pattern displayed on a television screen, and a woman was talking. Several other women and one man sat clustered in chairs around the screen. Each had yarn on their laps and hooks in their hands.
Clara made a happy noise.
“My work is done.” He kissed her cheek. “I’m going to head to the hotel.”
“I’ll call an Uber when the class is over,” she said.
“Here.” Zane handed the driver’s card to Clara. “We made a friend. He can pick you up whenever you’re ready.”
“Thanks,” she said.
He caught her arm. “Can we talk more about your incredible talent with yarn as it relates to your Fiber Kingdom interview later?”
She shook her head. “Nothing to talk about.”
She walked over to the desk to check in. Before he headed for the stairs, he took a mental picture of the room. One wall was filled with cubbies that held a rainbow of yarn. Another held hooks, needles, gadgets, and tools of the trade. There were movable screens. Several desks. A couple of tables with sewing machines. A woman sat by the window, intent on a cloth-covered ring.
This was not his world, but it was fascinating. His world was downstairs, the kitchen. It had never occurred to him to combine food with another business, but now he couldn’t get the idea out of his mind. Mentally, he reviewed everything he knew about the space in Venice Beach. Clara would love it as much as he did—he was certain. He had several successful restaurants in New York, but the idea of combining Clara’s dreams with his energized him in a way nothing had for years.
He collected his carry-out order and stepped outside. The red CRV was waiting.
“The Monaco, right?” the driver asked.
“Please,” Zane replied.
The Monaco was his favorite hotel in Denver. Laid-back, yet luxurious, and the bar could not be beat. He checked in and went straight to their room to get in touch with Roman. But when he unlocked his phone, he saw a notification alerting him that Clara had published a new blog post. He pulled up Clara Crochets on his phone, and excitement zinged through him.
Mountain ManSocks?
