Daddy’s Naughty Barista (Naughty Girls Book Club #10)

Chapter 1

I've always been an early riser. Something about the quiet hours before dawn makes me feel safe. Like the world hasn't woken up enough to judge me yet. I like this time. It’s peaceful, although absolutely zero of my friends are up yet. The only one besides me who gets up early is Emily. She teaches the rise and shine yoga class at the local gym. Lily says we’re nuts and that it’s not natural for a little to get up before the sun.

But, as I remind her constantly, not all of us are the same.

I like coffee… a lot. Many of the others prefer chocolate milk or lemonade.

I roll out of bed, and grab Mr. Snuggles, my very ancient teddy bear, and give him a quick squeeze before setting him back on my pillow.

He's worn and patched and probably ridiculous for a twenty-six-year-old woman to own, but I don't care. He's mine, and he makes me feel better. I’ve had him since I was five. Back when bad things happened and my dad died. My dad was my favorite person in the world. I was his little princess. He died a hero, saving a family from a flooded road. He was a firefighter and the best father a girl could have. His best friend gave me Mr. Snuggles the day they came and told us he’d passed. I’ve never spent a night without him.

I built this from nothing. A business loan, a lot of sleepless nights, and sheer stubborn determination and I couldn’t be prouder. I’ve not only built a coffee shop that is thriving, but a community of locals who visit me regularly.

But these early morning hours are my favorite.

I'm pulling my first espresso shot of the day when my phone buzzes, my friends are never up this early so I’m extra surprised to see they are all awake already.

Madison: Who's awake? I can't sleep and Ty is snoring like a chainsaw

Lily: I'm up. Ethan has early surgery. He says to have Ty schedule a sleep study. He might have sleep apnea and need a machine to help him stop snoring.

Holly: Justin and I are watching the sunrise. He says hi.

Chloe: At the shop. Opening in fifteen.

Emily: Just finished my morning meditation, getting ready for Sunrise Yoga. Chloe, I'll stop by after my first class for a smoothie.

Chloe: Perfect. I'll have it ready.

Madison: Smoothies are disgustingly healthy, you should swap it for a milkshake.

Emily: Nah, too much sugar.

Madison: There is no such thing as too much sugar.

Lily: Does Ty agree with you or…

Madison: What’s not to agree with? It’s facts.

I smile at my phone, warmth spreading through my chest. These women.

My found family. The ones who saw me at my messiest and loved me anyway.

They’ve helped me through so many rough days and self-doubts.

I couldn’t be more grateful to have found them.

We connected in a much larger book club and made our own mini chapter… or little chapter if you will.

We started the Naughty Little Girls Book Club two years ago after Madison posted about identifying with the little in one of the books we were reading together. Those of us who felt the same reached out, discovered we all lived within driving distance of each other, and decided to meet up.

Now we're inseparable.

Lily and Ethan are disgustingly happy, Madison and Ty are the cutest and Holly and Justin are planning a Christmas Eve wedding this year.

They have each found their Daddies. Their happily ever afters.

And I'm thrilled for them. Really, I am. Two things can be true at once, right? I can be happy for them but also sad for me?

Sometimes, late at night when I'm curled up with Mr. Snuggles and reading about fictional Daddy Doms who see their Littles for exactly who they are, I wonder if I'll ever find that for myself. I’m not the only little left in our book club who hasn’t found their happily ever after Daddy.

Emily, Maya and Amber haven’t either. Sometimes, if I’m feeling especially pathetic, I’ll message one of them because they understand how it feels to still be single.

I shake off the melancholy and focus on work. Muffins go in the oven, today’s special is my grandmother's cinnamon recipe that makes the whole shop smell like heaven. Syrups get refilled. Cups get stacked.

At 5:25, I flip the sign to Open and unlock the door.

Three minutes later, he walks in.

Tyler Reid.

He’s tall, easily six-three. Broad shoulders that fill out his black Army PT shirt in a way that should be illegal.

Dark hair cut military-short. Sharp jawline shadowed with stubble.

Sometimes he’s clean shaven, other times he’s not.

And eyes the color of storms that seem to see straight through me every single time.

My heart does its usual stupid flutter it does every single morning when he walks in.

And he does walk in every morning. Well just about.

Sometimes, he goes a week or two, even longer without and I wonder if he’s moved and then he just reappears.

I figure he’s off in the field or whatever the soldiers call it when they go out of town for work trips.

"Morning," I say, proud that my voice sounds normal instead of breathless.

"Morning." His voice is deep. Rough. Like he hasn’t fully awoken yet.

He approaches the counter, and I'm hyper-aware of every detail.

The way he moves with controlled precision.

The slight limp he tries to hide, an old injury, I'm guessing.

The wedding ring tan line that he had the first time he came in, well over a year ago, has finally faded completely from his left hand.

A regular caught me staring the first time he’d come in and let me know he was recently divorced with two kids who live with their mom in Texas while he's stationed here. Her husband works with Tyler and she had all the dirt. He’s Special Forces, so doesn’t have to follow the same grooming standards.

Comes and goes with little notice, she’d said.

I told her I wasn’t interested. Not at all. He’s not my type, I’d assured her.

Besides, I justified to myself, he’s off-limits in every possible way. She didn’t seem convinced, probably because I was lying straight to her face. I was interested. Very interested. Not brave enough to act on it, though.

"The usual?" I ask.

"Please."

The usual is a large Americano, extra shot, room for cream. He's ordered the same thing every single morning for the past year. He’ll add just a splash of heavy cream to it before walking out.

I turn to make his drink, acutely conscious of him watching me. I can feel his gaze like a physical touch, tracking my movements as I pull the espresso shots.

"Busy morning?" he asks.

I glance over my shoulder, surprised. He rarely makes small talk.

"Getting there. Friday mornings are always hectic."

"Makes sense and it’s payday."

I finish his coffee and turn back to hand it to him. Our fingers brush as he takes the cup, and electricity shoots up my arm.

His eyes flick to mine. Hold for just a beat too long.

Did he feel it too?

"Thanks, Chloe." He says my name like he's tasting it. Testing how it feels in his mouth. I don’t remember him ever saying my name before. He’s always polite, says please and thank you, but has never used my name. I like the way it sounds coming from him.

"You're welcome." I manage a smile. "Have a good run."

"You too. I mean—" He stops. Clears his throat. "Have a good morning."

Is he flustered? Tyler Reid, the stoic soldier who never shows emotion, is flustered?

"Thanks," I say softly.

He nods and heads for the door. But before he leaves, he glances back. Just once. Our eyes meet again, and something passes between us.

Then he's gone.

I let out a breath I didn't know I was holding.

"Girl, you've got it bad."

I spin around to find my assistant manager, Jess, leaning against the espresso machine with a knowing grin.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I lie.

"Please. The sexual tension between you two could power this whole building."

"There's no sexual tension."

"Chloe. I've been working here for six months. Every single morning, that man comes in, orders the same coffee, and looks at you like you're the most fascinating thing he's ever seen."

"He does not."

"He absolutely does. And you light up like a Christmas tree the second he walks through that door."

Heat floods my face. "I do not."

"You're literally blushing right now."

"I'm not—" I give up. "Okay, fine. He's attractive. But that's it. He's a customer. A regular. Nothing more."

"He could be more if you actually talked to him."

"We talk."

"'Large Americano, extra shot' doesn't count as conversation."

"He's not interested, Jess. Men like that don't go for women like me."

"Women like you? You mean gorgeous, successful business owners with great muffins and even better smiles?"

I snort despite myself. "I meant women who are too shy and awkward and—"

"Stop." Jess's voice goes firm. "You're none of those things. Well, you're a little shy. But that's part of your charm."

Before I can argue, the door chimes and three soldiers walk in. The morning rush has officially begun.

For the next two hours, I'm too busy pulling shots and warming pastries to think about Tyler Reid and the way his fingers felt against mine.

Mostly.

By 8:30, the rush has died down. I'm restocking napkins when Emily walks in, yoga mat slung over her shoulder, looking annoyingly zen in her matching lavender set. She’s nothing short of adorable.

"Morning, babe," she says, sliding onto a stool at the counter. "My normal green smoothie?"

"Already blending." I hit the button on the Vitamix. "How was class?"

"Good. Had a new student who couldn't touch her toes and got frustrated. Spent twenty minutes convincing her that flexibility is a journey, not a destination."

"Very wise, yoga master."

She grins. "I have my moments." She watches me pour her smoothie into a cup. "So. Heard Tyler Reid was in this morning."

I nearly drop the cup. "How do you already know that?"

"Jess texted me."

I glare at Jess, who's innocently wiping down tables and definitely eavesdropping.

"Traitor," I mutter.

"I prefer 'concerned friend,'" Jess calls back.

Emily accepts her smoothie. "Spill. What happened?"

"Nothing happened. He ordered coffee. I made coffee. He left."

"Jess said there were sparks."

"Jess is delusional."

"Am not!" Jess shouts from across the shop.

Emily ignores her. "Chloe. Honey. You've had a crush on this man for months. When are you going to actually do something about it?"

"Never, because he's not interested."

"How do you know?"

"Because men like him don't date women like me."

"What does that even mean?"

I set down the blender pitcher with more force than necessary. "It means he's this gorgeous, accomplished Special Forces soldier who probably dates supermodels and I'm just the girl who makes his coffee. The girl next door with a bit of extra flab and wide thighs."

"You're not those things." Emily's voice goes soft. "You're smart and kind and you built this entire business from scratch. You're incredible, Chloe. Why can't you see that?"

Tears prick my eyes. "I'm working on it."

"I know you are." She reaches across the counter and squeezes my hand. "But maybe it's time to take a risk. Talk to him. I mean, actually talk to him and not just about coffee."

"What would I even say?"

"Start with hello. See where it goes from there."

"What if I mess it up?"

"Then you mess it up. But what if you don't?" She tilts her head. "Look at Lily and Ethan, they're disgustingly happy."

"Lily's braver than me."

"Lily was terrified. She told us that. But she did it anyway." Emily takes a sip of her smoothie. "And Madison? She was convinced Ty would never want someone her age. Now look at them."

"Holly and Justin too," I admit.

"Exactly. All the girls are finding their Daddies. Their happily ever afters." Emily's smile is gentle. "Don't you want that too?"

"Of course I do. But—"

"No buts. You deserve love, Chloe. You deserve someone who sees how special you are. Who takes care of you the way you take care of everyone else."

My throat tightens. "What if I'm too much? What if I'm too needy or clingy or—"

"Then you're too much for the wrong person. The right person will love exactly how much you are."

I blink back tears. "When did you get so wise?"

"I've always been wise. You just don't listen."

I laugh wetly. "Fair point."

"So will you at least try? Next time Tyler comes in, actually engage with him? Ask him a question that's not about his coffee order?"

"I'll think about it."

"That's all I ask." She finishes her smoothie and stands. "I've got another class in thirty. Text me later?"

"Always."

She blows me a kiss and heads out, leaving me alone with my thoughts and Jess's knowing looks.

"She's right, you know," Jess says, appearing at the counter.

"I know."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

I think about Tyler. About the way he looked at me this morning. About the electricity when our fingers touched.

About the romance novels I read where the shy girl gets the protective Daddy and lives happily ever after.

"I don't know," I admit. "But maybe... maybe it's time to find out." I have no idea if Tyler is a Daddy or not, but I do know he’s definitely an attractive alpha male. I’ll never know anything else if I never talk to him, right?

Jess grins. "That's my girl."

The rest of the day passes in a blur of customers and coffee. But my mind keeps drifting back to Tyler.

To the possibility that maybe Emily is right.

Maybe it's time to take a risk.

Maybe it's time to see if the soldier might want more than just his morning Americano from me.

Maybe it's time to be brave.

My phone buzzes as I'm closing up.

Emily: Proud of you for even considering it. Baby steps, babe.

Chloe: Thanks. Love you.

Emily: Love you too. Now go home, cuddle Mr. Snuggles, and read something spicy. You deserve it.

I smile at my phone.

She knows me so well.

That night, curled up in bed with my ancient teddy bear and the latest Daddy Dom romance from my Tbr pile, I let myself imagine.

What if Tyler Reid isn't as unattainable as I think?

What if the sparks Jess keeps talking about are real?

What if I'm brave enough to find out?

I fall asleep with the book on my chest and Tyler's storm-gray eyes in my dreams.

Tomorrow.

Tomorrow I'll try to be brave.

Tomorrow I'll actually talk to him.

Tomorrow everything might change.

Or it might not.

But at least I'll know I tried.

Too bad I can’t take Mr. Cuddles with me and hold him tightly while I talk to Tyler. I can be brave without him. I know I can.

And sometimes, trying is the bravest thing of all.