7. Milo
Milo
“ Okaaaay ,” I mutter. “Spiced. Grounded. Hint of ginger…”
I’m completely lost in my own little world, crouched beside a row of fresh burlap sacks, clipboard balanced on my knee.
The rich, earthy smell of roasted coffee beans fills the shop and makes me feel all warm and excited inside.
I move on to the next sack, scribble another note about the new Ethiopian single-origin: bright, fruity, with chocolate undertones that would pair perfectly with my darker chocolate cupcakes.
In my head, the vision is crystal clear.
Me pedaling my shiny retro coffee-bike through the streets of Hardrock Park, little bell ringing, a colorful selection of books clipped to the side, maybe even some homemade snacks in a cute basket.
People waving, kids running up for a sweet treat, grown-ups lining up for my signature lattes.
It feels like the perfect business—something that’s truly mine .
Creative, mobile, and full of joy. It’s what I want for myself.
I smile, biting the end of my pen. This might just be my best idea yet.
Then a large shadow suddenly falls over me from behind, blocking the morning light streaming through the shop windows.
Is it…
It has to be…
I just know…
My heart does a wild flip. I don’t even need to turn around to know who it is. That presence—heavy, commanding, and way too masculine—can only belong to one man.
I slowly lift my head.
Connor towers over me like a mountain, arms crossed over his broad chest, wearing a black t-shirt that stretches tight across his shoulders and worn jeans that hug his powerful thighs. Shadow and Spirit sit obediently at his feet, tails thumping softly against the wooden floor when they see me.
A nervous smile breaks across my face before I can stop it. My cheeks heat instantly.
Connor extends one big hand toward me.
“Up,” Connor says, his voice a low rumble.
I stare at his hand for a second: thick fingers, rough palm, the same hand that turned my bare bottom bright red just days ago, then slip my smaller one into his. He pulls me to my feet like I weigh nothing. The second our skin touches, that familiar electric spark shoots straight through me.
“Thanks,” I say, brushing a loose strand of hair off my face. I tilt my head and sass him with my sweetest smile. “I didn’t think I was allowed to see you again. Weren’t you very clear about that, Mr. Gruff?”
Connor’s mouth twitches, almost a smirk. His deep voice is low and rough. “This is neutral turf, little boy. Town’s fair game. Technically, no rules broken.”
The way he says little boy makes my knees feel weak. I try to ignore the way my body immediately reacts to him, but it’s a tough ask and all I can hope for is that he doesn’t notice.
Connor nods toward my clipboard and the open sacks of beans. “Doing research for that crazy coffee-bike business of yours?”
I blush hard, but the enthusiasm bubbles up anyway. I can’t help it.
“Yes!” I exclaim, proud of my idea. “And less of the crazy . I’m trying to pick the perfect blends.
Something strong enough for the mountain guys but smooth enough for the tourists.
And I was thinking maybe I could add some snacks too…
nothing too big, just cookies, brownies, maybe savory scones on colder days.
Oh! And of course I’ll still have my indie books.
People can grab a coffee, pick a story, and sit on one of the benches in the park. Doesn’t that sound perfect?”
I’m off and running now, gesturing with my hands as I talk. “I even sketched out a little menu last night. And I found these adorable reusable cups with tiny bicycles on them.”
Connor doesn’t interrupt. He just stands there, listening. Really listening.
His dark eyes stay locked on me, steady and focused, like nothing else in the shop matters. There’s something so… Daddy about it.
Firm. Gruff. A little intimidating.
But underneath that tough exterior, Connor’s actually paying attention. He’s letting me ramble without making me feel silly.
It makes my heart flutter in the most dangerous way.
When I finally run out of steam, an awkward little silence falls between us. I bite my lip, suddenly self-conscious.
I take a breath and blurt out, “Would you… maybe want to grab a coffee with me? At the diner? My treat.”
Connor considers it for a long moment, his jaw flexing. I can practically see the internal battle happening behind those intense eyes. Then he gives a short nod.
“Sure,” Connor says. “As long as Shadow and Spirit can come.”
I laugh, bright and relieved. “They can sit outside with us. The diner has that cute patio area. I’m sure they’ll be fine, right guys?”
Connor gives a small grunt of approval and jerks his head toward the door. “Lead the way, then.”
I quickly pay for the two bags of beans I’d already chosen, my hands a little shaky with excitement. Connor waits patiently by the door, dogs at his side, looking every bit the mysterious mountain man the town whispers about.
But I know better now. There’s so much more to him. And even if it takes me to bring it out, I’m ready for that challenge.
As we step out into the sunshine together—me with my coffee beans, him with his two happy dogs—I can’t stop the big, silly grin from spreading across my face.
Three days ago he spanked me bare and told me never to come back to his land.
Now here we are, walking side by side toward the diner like it’s the most natural thing in the world.
My spanked butt may have healed, but the memory definitely hasn’t. And judging by the way Connor’s eyes keep flicking over to me when he thinks I’m not looking…
I have a feeling this Daddy isn’t done with me yet. And my Little side is more than ready for whatever he might bring next.
* * *
The diner’s outdoor patio is one of my favorite spots in town, its wooden tables shaded by big striped umbrellas, hanging flower baskets, and the perfect view of the mountains in the distance.
Connor and I settle at a corner table. Shadow and Spirit immediately plop themselves down right beside me, leaning their big warm bodies against my legs like we’re old friends.
Connor narrows his eyes at them. “ Hmmm ,” he mutters under his breath. “You’d think I didn’t treat you guys like kings.”
I giggle and reach down to scratch behind Shadow’s ears. “They have excellent taste. Clearly they like me better.”
Connor’s jaw tightens, but I catch the tiniest twitch at the corner of his mouth.
“Adorable, huh?” Connor grumbles.
My cheeks flush. I didn’t realize I’d said that part out loud. “Maybe a little,” I tease, biting my lip. “So, a big scary mountain man getting annoyed because his dogs prefer sitting with the boy who brought cupcakes? It’s kind of cute.”
That earns me a low growl and a warning look that makes my tummy flip. I just smile sweetly and sip my strawberry milkshake while Connor drinks his black coffee. The dogs stay glued to my side, completely ignoring their owner’s grumpy glare.
We sit in surprisingly comfortable silence for a minute, the morning sun warm on my shoulders. I gather my courage and ask the question that’s been on my mind since our first truck ride together.
“Why don’t you come into town more often?” I ask.
Connor leans back in his chair, long legs stretched out. He takes a slow sip of coffee before answering. “I like my life the way it is. Quiet. Simple. No bullshit. And that’s easiest alone.”
I study his face. There’s truth in what he says, but I can also see something else—a flicker of something deeper.
Maybe loneliness.
Maybe a tiny part of him that misses having people around.
I don’t push. Instead, I just nod and swirl my straw in my milkshake. After another quiet moment, I take a breath and go for it.
“There’s a really good roaster about an hour away,” I begin. “They have small-batch stuff you can’t get around here. I was thinking of going sometime this week… Would you want to come with me? It could be a mini road trip.”
Connor’s eyebrow arches slowly, a knowing look settling on his face. “This wouldn’t happen to be because you want a ride in my truck instead of taking the bus, would it?”
I blush instantly, heat rushing to my cheeks. “Busted,” I admit with a sheepish laugh.
Connor watches me for a long second, then lets out a low chuckle that vibrates through me. “Daddies don’t like being lied to, little boy.”
The word Daddies drops between us like a spark on dry kindling. My breath catches. I cross my legs together under the table.
“But…” Connor continues, setting his mug down. “What the hell. It might be a little fun. And I’m always on the lookout for better coffee anyway.”
Pure delight explodes in my chest. I can’t help myself, I lean across the table, cup his stubbled cheek with one hand, and press a quick, soft kiss right there on his warm skin. He smells like pine, coffee, and something deliciously masculine.
Connor doesn’t pull away.
He stays perfectly still, letting me kiss him.
But he doesn’t kiss me back either. The heat between us thickens instantly.
Heavy, crackling, full of everything we’re not saying.
When I pull back, our eyes lock. His are dark, intense, and full of hunger.
My heart is racing so hard I’m sure he can hear it.
For a moment, neither of us moves.
Then Connor clears his throat and stands up abruptly. “Come on,” he says, voice a little rougher than before. “Let’s ride to the roaster.”
I grin so wide my cheeks hurt. “Right now ?”
“Right now.”
I quickly finish the last of my milkshake while Connor settles the bill. Shadow and Spirit jump up excitedly, sensing an adventure. As we walk toward Connor’s truck, I feel warm all over—not just from the sun, but from the simple, wonderful fact that I’m not doing this alone.
I have company.
And not just any company… it’s Connor .
The big, gruff, secretly sweet mountain Daddy who spanked my bare bottom, told me to stay away, and is now willingly driving me an hour away just because I asked.
I sneak a glance up at him as we walk. His hand brushes mine for a second—accidental, maybe —but neither of us pulls away immediately. A little thrill runs through me.
This feels like the start of something.
Something scary.
Something exciting.
And something I already know I don’t want to stop.