Mission: Imbrewable – A Frothy Fiasco (The Coffee Loft Series: Mountain Brew Collection)

Chapter 14

Kaylee

Is this guy for real? Most guys would have taken me to task over my clumsiness and the fire. Maybe Luke is just being nice because he needs my help. Or because he knows that he’ll return to California at the end of this assignment and never have to see me again.

Story of my abysmal dating life.

“Liz, why can’t I be like other women? Graceful, elegant, and alluring?” I ask as I scratch behind her ears from my pillowy perch inside the tent. She blinks at me with her doleful brown eyes but doesn’t express her opinion. Guess I’ll simply enjoy the time I have with Luke while trying not to cause another catastrophe. A small smile plays around my lips as I fall asleep thinking about my hunky partner.

~*~

“Coffee and donuts delivery!” Mom chirps as she bounces out of her spiffy new sedan, hands full of containers sporting the distinctive Coffee Loft logo. The coffee shop has been doing well, so Dad recently surprised her with a new vehicle. He knew she’d never spend money on herself.

Yap! Yap! Liz barks her greeting, wiggling her chubby little body from head to toe. It’s like she’s vibrating with excitement over our new arrival.

“Elizabeth Taylor! You’re such a cutie pie. But my hands are full and I can’t pet you,” Mom coos, making a beeline towards me.

“Thanks, Mom! You’re a lifesaver,” I say as she joins me at the picnic table. I got up early to enjoy the sunrise, so I’m wearing my ultra-comfortable fuzzy slippers, sweats, mittens, and fleecy jacket under the coat she delivered yesterday. A distinct chill hangs in the air this morning, so a hot cup of coffee is going to hit the spot.

“Where’s the hunky guy?” Mom asks after she plops down across from me and spreads our breakfast offering out on the table.

“He’ll be here in a few minutes,” I reply with more confidence than I’m feeling. Maybe he got cold feet overnight, afraid that I’ll set something else on fire. I wouldn’t blame him.

Yap! Yap! My dog spots Luke before Mom or I do. Liz repeats her happy dance, getting a couple ear scratches from our guest. Luke’s wearing a flannel shirt, khaki shorts, and hiking boots. That combined with his beard gives off a sexy mountain man vibe. My heart rate ticks up a couple notches. He’s so handsome, he mocha my heart skip a beat. Wowza!

“Good morning,” Luke says, extending his hand to Mom. “I’m Luke Fieldstone, nice to meet you.”

My eyes go wide as Mom twitters and blushes like a teenager, obviously not immune to the Hottie Mountain Man. “Monica Zimmer, but please call me Monica.” They shake, then Luke slides onto the picnic table bench next to me. Our thighs touch, causing my heart to summersault in my chest, but Luke looks unaffected.

“Have a donut,” Mom says, pushing the bag towards our side of the table. She pours Luke a cup of coffee from the gallon take-out container into an environmentally friendly ceramic mug. “Do you want cream or sugar?”

“No thanks. I drink my coffee black,” Luke says, reaching for the mug.

We nibble on the donuts and sip the strong brew in silence for a few seconds until the caffeine and sugar hits our systems.

“Who’s manning the shop?” I ask because Mom usually works the early morning shift. I feel guilty that my vacation may be causing Violet to have to work double shifts.

A nervous laugh floats from Mom’s lips. “I hired a new guy! He’s remarkable.”

“You replaced me?” I squeak. Wow! That was fast! I thought blood was thicker than water, but apparently not.

“Oh no, dear, I’d never do that,” Mom replies with a dismissive wave. “Dad suggested that you may want to focus on the back office for a while after your vacation, to see how you like that rather than serving. ”

Reading between the lines: Maybe you’ll cause less damage if you stick to spreadsheets, ordering supplies, and scheduling staff. My happy mood evaporates.

Trying to shrug off my hurt feelings, I say, “What’s the new guy’s name?”

“Reggie. He came in looking for work and I hired him on the spot! He’s been a barista for several years. With you out, his timing was a stroke of luck.”

Mom has a tendency to be impulsive and far too trusting. I wonder if she did a background check on this guy. My suspicions are on high alert after learning about the alpine-parsley gang.

“I’m glad he’s working out,” I say glumly wondering whether I’ll even have a job in the office at the Coffee Loft after my little vacation ends.

“These donuts are terrific, and the coffee is an interesting brew,” Luke chimes in, seeming to pick up on my less-than-happy vibe while my mom remains clueless .

“Thank you!” Mom says. “I’m trying a new brew. This is called Roasted Marshmallow Bliss. Everyone seems to love it.”

I choke on my latest sip while a gale of laughter bursts from Luke’s lips. “Roasted marshmallow?” he rasps.

Mom tosses us a confused look. “Why is that funny?”

Luke and I exchange looks. “We roasted marshmallows last evening,” I rush to explain, knocking my knee against Luke’s under the table. Hopefully he picks up on my signal because I don’t want Mom to know that my marshmallows were incinerated rather than roasted and that I almost burned the picnic table down.

“It was just a funny coincidence, that’s all,” Luke adds, giving me a conspiratorial wink when Mom isn’t looking.

Her eyes narrow ever so slightly, then she shrugs. “What do you two have planned for today?” Mom asks.

“Some hiking and possibly fishing,” Luke responds, making our agenda up on the spot, although I don’t know why he mentioned fishing .

Wait for it . . .

“That sounds fun,” Mom says. “As long as Kaylee doesn’t fall in the creek.”

Pursing my lips, I grumble, “Mom!”

She laughs. “What? Sweetie, you attract disaster. Falling in the creek is a distinct possibility.”

A blush runs across my cheeks. Mom can be so embarrassing.

“I’ll keep her safe,” Luke says, throwing me a grin while puffing out his chest.

I roll my eyes at him. Me, Tarzan. You, Jane , comes to mind. Is he going to pound on his chest next?

We polish off the coffee and donuts while Luke and Mom discuss a festival being held in the area. She even brought a brochure with her. Mom loves promoting local events; she always displays information about them in the shop.

The festival is some kind of mountain man competition. If Luke weren’t on this assignment, he should enter because I’m sure he would excel at all the activities they’re discussing .

Knife throwing (keep me away from that one) . . . Shelter building . . . Canoe racing . . .

When Mom mentions the fire-starting competition, I choke on a bite of donut. Luke gives me a teasing look as he slaps my back while I sputter and cough.

“A big strapping guy like you would excel at the wood-chopping competition. Why don’t you enter?” Mom asks, still reading from the brochure.

He sends me a pleading look, but I send him back a “you’re on your own buddy” look.

Shifting on the bench, Luke clears his throat and says, “Um, well, I didn’t come prepared to enter any competitions.”

A flimsy excuse! The man chopped wood yesterday morning, and I can attest that he’s quite the swoony sight while doing so.

The imp inside me can’t be contained, so I offer my own suggestion. “How about entering the campfire cooking competition?” I ask in a playful tone. “Cooking over an open flame. You’d shine at that one.”

“Actually, Kaylee, you’d be flaming good at that one,” Luke fires back.

Our eyes lock, and we both burst out laughing while Mom’s brows crease in confusion.

“Inside joke,” I say.

Sliding the brochure towards Luke, Mom says, “Here’s all the information if you’d like to attend. I’m sure Kaylee would love to go with you.”

Another blush runs across my cheeks. Mom is as subtle as a coffee spill on white pants.

My meddling parent pops up and starts clearing the table. “Well, I’ll leave you two. Have a great day!” She toddles off to her car, then waves as she drives away.

“Your mom is quite something,” Luke comments from his seat beside me.

I laugh and nudge his shoulder. “She can’t contain her meddling. ”

“But her coffee is delicious,” Luke adds grinning back at me. “We’d be drinking instant coffee without her.”

Grimacing at that horrible thought, I whip out my cell and say, “Shall we plan our mission for today? And there won’t be any fishing!” Unfortunately, Mom’s right, I’d just fall in the creek, so why tempt fate?

Luke chuckles as I bring up the suspect list. We discuss our primary suspects, the Richie Riches, Yellow Galoshes, and VW Bus Gang. As we’re talking, the Richie Riches start stirring at their campsite.

“Mr. Richie Rich looks like he’s dressed for a hike,” I say in a hushed tone.

Luke nods. “On the other hand, Mrs. Richie Rich looks like she’s not enjoying the cooler temperatures.”

She’s huddled at the picnic table wearing her winter parka and a frosty scowl. The man scurries to heat water on a small camp stove, and they both drink the beverage he prepares—possibly instant coffee or cocoa. I grimace when I notice they’re using Styrofoam cups .

Neither speaks, but a few seconds later the woman tosses the beverage at the man, just missing his face. The disdain on her face speaks volumes. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but the way she’s gesturing wildly with her hands, I get the impression she’s not pleased with the beverage.

“Mrs. Richie Rich is not a happy camper,” Luke says in a deadpan voice.

I clap my hand over my lips, but a giggle still escapes.

As we watch the argument unfold before us, the man points a finger in her face. She leaps up from the table and puts her hands on her hips. Too bad we can’t hear what she’s saying because it looks like she’s chewing him out. The man glares at the woman, says something, then strides off without a backward glance directly towards the trail Luke and I hiked yesterday. The woman flounces back into the tent, snapping the flap shut behind her.

“I’ll track him, you watch the woman,” Luke says as he bounds from the picnic bench .

Suddenly my heart lurches, worrying that we’ve taken these suspects too lightly. Placing a restraining hand on his arm, I say, “What if he’s armed? Please be careful.”

Luke plops back down beside me, places his hands on my shoulders, and gazes intently into my eyes. “I don’t plan on confronting him. I’ll be careful.”

I bite my lower lip and nod, concern still etching my face.

“Kaylee, I have the same concerns for you. Don’t take any chances with these people. Please stay at camp and don’t go anywhere without me.”

“Okay,” I say, my voice husky with emotion. Luke’s become very important to me and I’m suddenly nervous over this mission, the seriousness of the situation slams into me like a ton of bricks. Impulsively, I lean forward and plant a kiss on his lips, trying to convey with my actions how I feel about him.

I immediately lose track of everything around me when he pulls me into his chest until I’m pressed up against him, his arms sliding around my waist. I inhale his aroma and melt into him. Ourkissis warm and soft, exciting and new. It is perfection as far as kisses go. He kisses me back with the same fervor for several, long, intoxicating moments.

Remembering the mission, Luke pulls away first. Rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs, he locks eyes with me and says, “I better get going before Mr. Richie Rich gets out of sight.” With those words, he pops up and strides off as my heart lodges in my throat. How did I fall so quickly and completely for this mountain man? I never thought I was one for insta-love, but somehow Luke has captured my heart completely.