Whole Latte Love (The Jewells) Read online

  Whole Latte Love

  Rachelle Ayala

  “Sexy, teasing, and holy smokin’ hot!”

  - Chantel Rhondeau, author of Love & Redemption

  ~ ~ ~

  World Literary Press

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 9781311806116

  ~ ~ ~

  Dedication

  To my eldest son. Go Bears!

  &

  Melissa Foster, for pushing me to write pure romance.

  &

  Melisa Hamling, who sticks up for LOVE.

  &

  Chantel Rhondeau, for keeping my spirits up.

  &

  Racquel Reck, for holding my hand through all the critiques.

  Copyright © 2014 by Rachelle Ayala

  All rights reserved.

  Smashwords Edition

  ISBN: 9781311806116

  This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy.

  No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner without written permission from the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real events or real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  All trademarks belong to their respective holders and are used without permission under trademark fair use.

  The named songs belong to their rights holders and artists or are public domain. No lyrics are quoted and no rights are infringed.

  Cover design by Natasha Brown

  Edited by Lauren McKellar

  Contact Rachelle at:

  http://www.rachelleayala.me/author-bio/contact/

  Or on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/rachelleayalawriter

  World Literary Press

  Book Description

  The last thing Carina Chen needs on her career track is a distraction—especially the sexy, guitar-playing barista she rooms with for the summer.

  Dylan Jewell appreciates the delightful universe of women who vie for his attention. His goal in life is to do good, make happy coffee, and help the homeless.

  When Carina moves in, she insists on rules of conduct to quell her instant attraction to Dylan. But when her boss asks her to turn Dylan into a businessman, she can’t think of a reason not to take advantage of his hospitality.

  Their chemistry is white hot, but Dylan refuses to play Carina’s game, unable to understand how he can fall in love with a woman who puts profits in front of people. When Carina realizes Dylan isn’t budging, she risks all to gain a single night with him. Will her gambit backfire or will Dylan discover Carina’s true heart before she runs away with his?

  Whole Latte Love is an opposites-attract romance mixing bluesy rock music, hot, steamy love scenes, and financial shenanigans.

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Other Books by Rachelle

  Chapter 1

  Carina Chen had no time for nonsense.

  “Show off.” She couldn’t help glaring at the shaggy-haired barista as he demonstrated the art of milk frothing to a gaggle of college girls.

  Hair flipping and eyelashes fluttering, they oohed and ahhed nonstop while he spun milk underneath the steam nozzle. When he layered the milk over a cup of espresso, they squealed as if they were in the middle of a group orgasm.

  Carina elbowed her way through the crowded coffee shop and ordered her cup from the female barista, whose line was much shorter. Serving lattes didn’t require sleek muscles and gem-blue eyes.

  “Yummy.” Her friend Sheila checked her watch. “I come just to watch the show. Wonder which one he’ll take home tonight.”

  “Only one?” Carina set her cup on the table. “Enough about him. I still haven’t found a room for the summer. Didn’t you say you had a friend needing a renter?”

  Sheila stole her gaze from the demonstration of coffee-making prowess and licked her lips. “Yeah, let’s wait for his break, and I’ll introduce you.”

  Carina looked toward the espresso machine. “Him? Never mind. I’m not sure I could stomach the guy. He’s got to be full of himself.”

  Sheila’s eyes wandered back to the front counter and lingered. “You have to admit, he’s hotter than the Sahara.”

  “That’s exactly my point.” Carina watched him hand a steaming mug to a perky cheerleader. His mischievous smile did funny things to her insides and it wasn’t even directed at her. “I need a quiet place to crash after my eighteen-hour days, not some bachelor pad with nightly orgies. I can imagine the revolving door on his bedroom. No thanks.”

  Despite her hasty denial, warm flutters bubbled in her belly when the barista stepped out from behind the counter. He was broad-shouldered, but not bulky, and he moved with the easy grace of a mountain lion as he collected the empties. Heck, the man probably boosted Abercrombie & Fitch’s stock price two full points each time he bent over to wipe a table.

  “You could at least meet the guy before you pass judgment.” Sheila folded her arms. “Look, the important thing is, he has a great apartment close to the Berkeley BART station.”

  Easy access to rapid transit was a point in his favor, but … “You sure he’s safe?”

  “I promise. Dylan’s a boy scout. Besides,” Sheila said with a sly smile, “an orgy or two might do you some good.”

  While Carina struggled to close her gaping mouth, Sheila raised a hand to wave him over.

  Dylan wiped his palms on his apron and pulled a stool from the next table.

  “Hey, what’s up?” He greeted Sheila with a nod and trained his eyes on Carina.

  Up close, he was even more swoonworthy. Wavy brown hair hung almost to his neck, and his jaw was stubbly, as if he’d forgotten to shave a day or two. His presence filled all available breathing space between them, and his piercing gaze felt like a tractor beam drawing Carina toward him.

  “Dyl, this is Carina Chen. She needs a room to rent,” Sheila said. “She’s working at Mogul this summer.”

  “Nice to meet you,” Dylan said. “Investment banking?”

  “Intern analyst.” Carina tamped down the pride swelling in her chest as well as a more worrying heat in her lower regions. “I got the offer two days ago, last minute.”

  “Cool!” He gave her a thumbs up, and the thick silver cuff on his wrist glinted in the late afternoon sunlight coming through the window. “My roommate moved out two days ago. Must be fate.”

  It had to be the sun’s heat that w
as making her sweat under her suit jacket. Nope, it was definitely not Dylan’s sideways grin nor the way his veins moved over his large hands when he flexed his fingers.

  “How much?” Carina’s voice barely squeaked past her tight vocal cords.

  “Your share of the rent’s twelve-hundred a month. We split the utilities. You get your own bedroom but we’ll share a bathroom.”

  Sharing a bathroom with a guy might get tricky. Where would she hide her feminine products?

  “You’ll love it,” Sheila cut in. “It’s close to shopping, restaurants, and the campus.”

  “That’s so much more than I paid in Philadelphia,” Carina said. “I don’t know Berkeley very well. Is that what rentals go for around here?”

  “It’s much less than San Francisco, especially the Financial District.” Sheila hopped off her barstool. “I gotta hit the loo. Text me when you’re ready to leave.”

  “Wait, I’m not sure.” Carina faltered. Why was she acting like this was a blind date? It wasn’t like she hadn’t lived in a coed dorm before. Besides, a guy satisfied to work in a coffee shop was not her type, so there should be no worries whatsoever about wanting him for a boyfriend.

  Dylan placed his smartphone on the table. “I have to get back to the job. Call yourself from my cell so I’ll have your number.”

  Zing. His killer grin hit the mark, right between her thighs. The guy knew what he was doing. Oh no, she wasn’t giving her number to that kind of man. She’d ask Sheila if she knew of any women needing roommates. She still had one more day to hit the streets and go over listings, and she most definitely was not going to be another phone number on his to-call list.

  “I still have a few other places to check out.” Carina picked up her coffee cup. “Do you think I could get a takeout cup for this?”

  Dylan grasped the handle, his fingers lingering a beat too long against hers. “Even better. I’ll make you a new one. This one’s cold.”

  Carina’s cheeks warmed as a tingly shiver worked its way up her arm. Geez, she wasn’t usually this hormonal.

  “Wait, your phone …” Carina picked up Dylan’s phone and walked toward the counter where he prepared the coffee. A poster plastered on the wall showed him strutting with his guitar onstage with a band called The Licked Blues. They had a gig at a club later that evening. Typical. Another guy wasting his life away with no prospect of financial success.

  “Almost done.” Dylan layered the espresso on the bottom of the cup and dipped the milk pitcher up, then lowered it and cut across.

  Carina gasped as a creamy heart floated to the top.

  He handed her the takeout cup and rested one elbow on the counter. “Carina, if you room with me, I’ll have one of these for you every morning.”

  His voice caressed her name like the languid beckon of a lover calling her back to bed.

  Carina swallowed hard. Before she could respond, Dylan swung toward an elderly woman positioning her walker to get out of a booth. The college girls waved and vied for his attention, but he took his time helping the woman to the door before going back for their orders.

  I’m a goner now.

  Carina typed her number into Dylan’s phone.

  ~ ~ ~

  Dylan Jewell stepped out the back door of The Brewed Force coffee shop, his guitar slung over his shoulder. He glanced down the sidewalk, but Sheila and her friend were long gone. Interesting pair. Sheila, who hung with the Occupy crowd, had never told him she had a straight-laced banker friend.

  Especially one so enchanting. Carina had glossy, straight black hair framing an oval face with a dainty nose and eyes like pointed jewels. An exquisitely shaped Asian lady, she was slender but her breasts promised a delicate handful.

  Or at least he imagined. The woman had to be sweltering under layers of junior executive clothing. It figured she was from the East Coast. She seemed uppity and pinched, although she tried to hide a sweet smile when he’d made her foamy heart.

  Dylan wasn’t a flirt. He simply appreciated the delightful universe of women who constantly vied for his attention. This one, however, hadn’t even glanced at his biceps, but had kept her gaze steadily out of reach of his glimmering blue eyes, his most seductive asset.

  New in town, worried about her job. Breaking her cold front would be fun. And Dylan Jewell, Mr. Think Happy, was just the guy to do it.

  He crossed to the front of the shop and waited at a traffic light. Two women who’d been in the café stopped in front of him.

  “Heard you were looking for a roomie.” The tall brunette smoothed her hair. “I’d like to apply.”

  Her friend, a petite blonde, touched his upper arm. “Me, me. I’m more fun.”

  “Sorry, girls.” Dylan waved them off. “I have someone coming by.”

  “Who? That nerdy Asian girl in the business suit?” The brunette sneered. “She’s not your type.”

  “Exactly.” The light changed and Dylan picked up his pace, heading toward The Underground, a club featuring live bands and dancing. “She’ll pay her rent and leave me alone.”

  The brunette shrugged, her hands on her hips, chest heaving. “You don’t know what you’re missing.”

  “When I figure it out, I’ll call.” He winked and hurried up the street.

  At twenty-six, Dylan did not do relationships and he definitely wasn’t going to be anyone’s boyfriend. Women were always more demanding than he preferred, and whatever they offered came with strings. Strings tied to responsibility: remembering their birthdays, what kind of wine they liked, and even watching their pets when they went on vacation.

  He pushed through the door of the club and headed downstairs to the dance floor. He’d better be prepared to take a full-time job if he couldn’t land a suitable roommate. The last guy left him holding the bag for three months unpaid rent and damage to the drywall.

  Dylan unlatched his guitar case and pulled out his Ibanez archtop, a vintage guitar made in the early 1980’s. Its sunburst top contoured gracefully to the shapely f-holes. He wiped a speck of dust from the tortoise shell pickguard. He’d rather go homeless than pawn this baby.

  His bandmates were already there setting up. Zeke plugged the keyboard into the amp while Paul adjusted the levers and knobs on his drum kit, and Vic cleaned the mouthpiece of his sax.

  “We’re on in twenty.” Nico, the band leader, slapped a capo on the neck of his bass guitar. “The agent’s coming to check us out, so you’re singing lead.”

  “Fine by me.” Dylan attached the electronic tuner to the headstock of his guitar. His band had auditioned to open for several high profile blues rock bands with the goal of touring with them. So far, they hadn’t gotten a contract, even though the songs they’d posted online had thousands of listens and likes.

  Dylan’s cell phone chanted a jaunty Bollywood ringtone. Yes! Carina had fallen for the latte heart. He pushed the answer button. “Hello, Dylan here.”

  “Good news.” The voice on the line screeched like a squeaky whiteboard marker. It was Rebecca, his one and only ex-girlfriend, and nothing she had to say was good news.

  “Can’t talk, I’m onstage in fifteen.” Dylan plucked his strings and adjusted the tuning pegs as the growing audience jostled for position in front of the stage.

  “No prob. This will be short. Your father’s looking at a really big deal. He wants you to be the principal on it.”

  “Listen, Bec. This isn’t your business.”

  “It’s a great opportunity. Rich only wants what’s best for you.”

  Rich? She’s calling him by his first name? Ah, shit!

  Nico tapped his guitar. “Let me finish tuning it.”

  Dylan cupped his hand over the phone. “Yeah, thanks.”

  “Are you listening?” Rebecca’s demanding voice rattled the tiny hairs in his inner ear. “This is huge. Maybe we can even work together on it.”

  “No way. That’s a guaranteed deal killer.”

  “Okay, tell you what, I’ll step out, take a leave o
f absence, go to Paris and shop for my wedding gown. Game’s all yours. Adieu!” She hung up.

  What the hell? Don’t tell me Dad’s marrying a gold digger.

  Dylan changed Rebecca’s ringtone to “Head Like a Hole.”

  Chapter 2

  Carina couldn’t exit the shabby apartment fast enough. Gingerly, she navigated around the pile of discarded furniture propped against a dumpster. Her scalp itched and she brushed her skirt, checking for hitchhiking insects.

  Were there any normal young adults in Berkeley?

  The last two potential roomies were in a time warp from the 1960s: long stringy hair wrapped in headscarves, wide hips in peasant skirts, and unshaven legs ending in Birkenstocks. They were overly friendly and offered her a cup of tea of dubious origins. The apartment had that pungent, stale, weedy odor. Definitely not something her bosses at Mogul Bank would approve of. And the futon? For all she knew, it could have hidden a supersized colony of bedbugs.

  Carina examined the rest of the listings on her smartphone. She absolutely was not going to call Dylan and spend the entire summer shacked up with Mr. Hot Coffee.

  Just thinking about him made her tingle in all the wrong places. Men like him should be illegal, contributing to the delinquency of women, especially ones who were serious about careers.

  After walking several blocks, Carina dabbed the sweat off her forehead with a handkerchief and folded it into a neat square. Her wool jacket hung off her slouching shoulders, and her feet had swollen three shoe sizes in her impractical but fashionable Jimmy Choo peep-toe wedges.

  The next apartment was near City Center, conveniently located near the subway, or as they called it here, BART, for Bay Area Rapid Transit.