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Some Like It Hotter
She takes hers tall, dark and extra hot!
To coffee-shop owner Eva Meyer, the California coast is beautiful, mellow…and boring. The solution? Swapping lives—and coffee shops—with her twin sister for one month. Now Eva’s settled in the bustling Big Apple, where she can order anything…anytime.
And what Eva really wants is the extra hot, topped-with-whipped-cream sexiness that is Ames Cooke.
While Eva is convinced she’s found her perfect cup of Delicious Man, Ames isn’t quite sure what to do with the quirky little number who’s charged into his life. He’s supposed to be attracted to someone cool and reserved—like her sister. But Eva has the unnerving ability to turn things seriously hot and steamy. Besides, it’s only for one month. And like every good coffee addict, Ames can stop whenever he chooses….
He was hot—for her!
Eva’s cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes snapped and she’d spent nearly the whole hour tempting him. Her sweater had all but slipped off one shoulder, exposing smooth, sexy skin.
He better go home before he did something stupid. Like kiss her. Or more.
“Actually—” he glanced at his watch “—I should call it a night.”
Then he turned to smile and kiss her cheek in a platonic good-night.
Come on, Ames. Get the hell out while you can.
“I had fun, Eva.” He reached for the door handle. “Thanks for— What are you doing?”
“Who, me?” She’d swung her crazily booted leg over both of his and had managed to straddle him in the cab. “I’m just saying you’re welcome, Ames.”
“Jeez, you can’t—”
Yes, she could. She was already kissing him, hot, hungry kisses, pressing her body close.
He was a guy. That got a reaction. A fairly immediate and large one.
Wait, there was some reason he was going to avoid getting physical with her. Now he couldn’t remember what it was. In fact, his hands were at her waist, traveling down to explore the pink skirt.
Oh, man.
Dear Reader,
I had so much fun writing Some Like It Hotter and playing with New York/California stereotypes to create a story of contrasts. I grew up in central New Jersey, and my husband is from California, so we are well aware that not everyone in New York is driven and harsh, and not everyone in California is a surfer dude, but those types served my story theme and provided a lot of fun, so I didn’t flinch.
Eva Meyer and her twin sister, Chris, learn a lot about themselves by switching coasts, coffee shops and lives. I hope you enjoy Eva’s experience trading a tiny West Coast town for the nonstop thrill ride of New York City. And I hope in February you’ll look for her sister’s story, in which former New Yorker Chris tries to cope with the slow pace of life in California and too many hot men!
Cheers,
Isabel Sharpe
www.IsabelSharpe.com
Some Like It Hotter
Isabel Sharpe
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
ISABEL SHARPE was not born with pen in hand like so many of her fellow writers. After she quit work to stay home with her firstborn son and nearly went out of her mind, she started writing. After more than thirty novels for Mills & Boon, a second son and eventually a new, improved husband, Isabel is more than happy with her choices these days. She loves hearing from readers. Write to her at www.isabelsharpe.com.
To Paul Miller and Lissy Matthews of Colectivo Coffee, who helped me tremendously by answering all my pesky java questions.
Contents
Cover
Back Cover Text
Introduction
Dear Reader
Title Page
About the Author
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Extract
Copyright
Prologue
THE SUN WAS setting over the Pacific. Eva Meyer sat on Aura Beach on California’s Central Coast, a cup of her own blend of orange chamomile tea in hand. The colors were fantastic, a soaring ceiling of pink, orange and burgundy, reflected in the clouds and across the water. Over her cheeks blew a gentle, fresh September breeze. Pelicans winged past, long necks doubled back, wings arcing, heading south. Any moment the magic of a dolphin breaching the ocean’s restless surface could happen.
She was bored stiff.
As a matter of fact, she’d been feeling off center and uncharacteristically low for the past several months. Around here they’d put her funk down to some interruption in her chi or planets out of alignment or angry spirits or whatever mystical forces might be at work—but her sensible midwestern roots were looking for a more concrete reason. Maybe she’d been working too hard, maybe she hadn’t been social enough, definitely she hadn’t been getting enough sex. But boredom? That kind of thing wasn’t easy to admit. Only the Boring Get Bored had been her accountant mother’s mantra, which Eva had lived by—often to an excess her mother didn’t approve of.
But today, during this relatively rare moment of relaxation and reflection, the ugly truth had burst from its hiding place and smacked her across the face.
Ow.
For the past three of her twenty-eight years she’d been the proud owner of the Slow Pour coffee shop in the tiny town of Carmia, building a decent business, honing its identity, growing its reputation. Though she totally loved the shop, loved the friendly vibe it put out in the community for residents and tourists alike, was totally into the challenge of keeping the business afloat, underneath it all she was...
Bored.
How could this happen? Years of learning beside her father, coffee scientist Dr. Meyer, decades of traveling to major coffee-producing locations—Hawaii, Ethiopia, Brazil, Indonesia—had fostered her dream. All her life she’d known she’d escape the Midwest for the serenity, beauty and open-mindedness of the California coast, that she’d be her own boss with her own shop...she was living a fantasy come true! How many people got to do that?
Her fraternal twin sister, Chris, older by a whole two minutes and as glamorous and driven as Eva was nonconformist and laid-back, had made her same dream come true in New York City, buying the shop NYEspresso a couple of years after Eva rescued a sad little bankrupt souvenir shop and transformed it into Slow Pour. You didn’t see Chris whining after achieving her life’s goal. What kind of spoiled brat would have it all and still be wanting more?
She sighed, sipping her tea, watching the sky turn Crayola colors...
Bored.
* * *
“UNGH.” CHRIS FLOPPED onto the narrow bed in her small bedroom in the tiny apartment on East Eighty-Seventh Street that she shared with her roommate, Natalie. Outside her window a siren blared, horns honked, a driver shouted, “Get the heck out of the way, please!”
Only he didn’t say please. Or heck.
She was exhausted.
Not fun to admit. Or to experience. She’d always had the energy of an ant. Or a hummingbird. Or a gazelle. Now she was more like a cow. Or cat. Or sloth. For a while she thought maybe her low mood was due to the death of her favorite season, summer, and the approaching long winter months. Or maybe residual disappointment over her breakup with John, though that had been weeks ago, and they’d only dated four months before realizing they were not so meant to be after all.
But today she’d actually turned down an invitation to go dancing with friends from her Zumba class. Instead, she’d chosen to come home, eat a bowl of soup and stare at the wall, because she was...
Exhausted.
No, no, this was all wrong! Since when did anything even slow her down, let alone wear her out? She’d known her whole life that she’d end up in a major city someday. Noise, bustle and a certain amount of chaos were her bread and butter, her peanut butter and Nutella, her French roast and cream. Bright lights, big city—oh, yeah, bring it on! And had she ever. For the past three years, she’d been part of the amazing ride that was New York City, working first as a manager at Fine Grind and last year buying the store and making it her own, NYEspresso. She hadn’t been turning an amazing profit, but hadn’t run it into the ground, either. Her dream had come true! Somebody pinch her!
No, someone punch her for all this whining. Her free-spirited twin, Eva, had also achieved coffee nirvana, and she was having a blast, not a boohoo-fest.
Chris lifted her head, gave up, let it drop back on the pillow.
Nothing helped. She was simply...
Exhausted.
* * *
THE SUN’S GLOWING disk disappeared over the horizon. Eva hauled her cell out of her pocket to call her sister. Born on Christmas Eve—hence their names—on the surface Chris and Eva were about as different as two souls could be, except for their shared love of all things coffee. But they still had the deep bond of most twins. Chris might not understand Eva’s off mood, but she’d be supportive and helpful, even if it was just to tell Eva to snap out of it.
Maybe that was all Eva needed.
Chris picked up immediately. “Hey, twin, how goes it?”
“Okay.” Eva frowned. “What’s wrong? You don’t sound like yourself.”
“You don’t sound like yourself, either.”
“No? Who do I sound like? Wait, don’t tell me. Scarlett Johansson.”
“I’m thinking...Eva with sharp edges. Who do I sound like?”
“Chris dulled down.”
“Tell me what’s going on?” They both spoke at once.
“You first.”
“No, you.”
Eva giggled. Just hearing her twin’s voice made her feel better. “I’m sitting on warm sand watching the sky fade from magenta to coral to pink to navy. There are palm trees behind me, waves making a great swishing sound in front of me...”
Chris snorted. “And something is wrong?”
“I know.” She grabbed a handful of sand, let it flow through her fingers. “I’m restless, not feeling peaceful. Been this way for a while, just something not quite right.”
“Time for new hair?”
Eva grinned at their joke girlie remedy for whatever was wrong. “I bought a ton of new accessories to decorate it with. Didn’t help.”
“Accessories? I’m afraid to ask what these are like.” Her sister made a shuddering noise. “Is Slow Pour doing well?”
“Not great, not bad.”
“Man trouble?”
“No man to cause any.”
“Ha. Maybe that’s your problem.”
Eva snorted. “Could be. What’s been going on with you?”
Her sister sighed. “I don’t know. Just...lethargy.”
“I can’t picture that at all. You’re usually a blur of a person.”
“I feel like I need a change.”
“Me, too.” Eva pulled her hoodie closer as the air chilled with the fading light. “I moved to California because it’s so laid-back, but sometimes it feels like nothing happens, and the nothing that happens does it really slowly.”
“That sounds like heaven.” Her sister sighed. “Everything is always happening around here, all at top speed.”
“That sounds like heaven.” Eva lay back on the sand, looking up into the night sky, and a crazy, impractical, ridiculous thought made her giggle.
“What’s so funny?”
“Since we can’t leave our shops to go on an extended vacation—maybe we should just switch lives for a month.”
Silence. Then both sisters gasped. “Oh, my God!”
1
“CHRIS! I’M HERE. I’m calling from your apartment!” Eva dumped her bags in Chris’s tiny foyer, which wasn’t really more than the beginning of a narrow hallway. She’d visited her sister only once in New York, shortly after Chris moved here. Generally they saw each other in Wisconsin when they got together with their parents for the holidays.
“Let me guess. It’s much bigger than you remember.” Chris’s voice dripped sarcasm.
“Uh...not really.” Eva peeked around a corner toward the kitchen, the size of her closet, and the living room, which struggled to contain a chair, love seat and coffee table. “But it’s got so much charm!”
“Oh, is that charm? I thought charm was your house, with the plants and flowers growing everywhere and the ocean smell outside. Try and see how charming my place is in February when it’s dark and freezing for weeks on end. I can actually run from one end of your place to another. Run! It’s a real house!”
“A tiny house. Which you have to take care of.” She hoisted her bags again, phone between her chin and ear, and marched down the hall, then pushed open the first door. “Your bedroom is adorable.”
“You can barely turn around—you call that adorable? I can do jumping jacks in yours! I can see an expanse of floor! And then I can take a dozen steps and be outside! And to the beach in five minutes! No elevator, no sirens, no taxis, no—”
“Concerts or museums, no theater, no—”
“Traffic jams, no hurricanes, no impatient rude people—”
“No excitement! No energy!”
“No Ames!”
“Huh?” Eva hauled her suitcase onto the twin bed. “Who’s Ames?”
Chris made a noise of exasperation. “A regular at NYEspresso. Also an arrogant pain in the ass who doesn’t seem to hear me when I tell him I’m not interested. He’s this complete rich-boy spoiled brat who’s never heard ‘no’ in his life.”
Eva chuckled. Men came after Chris pretty regularly. All she had to do was green-light the ones she wanted and ta-da, she had a boyfriend. Eva’s quirks meant it was usually the other way around for her—she’d see someone and go after him. So far neither approach had worked long-term for the sisters, but they were happy to keep trying. “I’ll tell him you’ve eloped. Maybe he’ll fling himself off a building.”
“Please encourage him.”
“You’ll have to deal with surfer dudes and lost tourists and retired hippies who order a cup of coffee and stay for hours thinking you have nothing better to do than chat. Which, sadly, you often don’t. Though Zac will be there most days and he’s awesome.”
“So you’ve said. Though I still think your arrangement is weird. Who agrees to get married when they hit thirty only if nothing else works out?”
“We did.” She didn’t expect Chris to understand. Eva had begun to realize that while love affairs were a fabulous, fireworks-filled pleasure, when it came to choosing a life partner and future father of her children, she wasn’t going to get much better than her best male friend, Zac, master’s candidate at Cal Poly and regular at Slow Pour. It was precisely because they didn’t burn so hot that she knew he’d be a good solid match, one that actually lasted.
But they still had a year and a half before that commitment. And as much as she adored Zac and he adored her, neither of them had yet given up hope they could find another soul mate they could also be frantic to tangle up the sheets with.
“At NYEspresso you’ll have to deal with people screaming at you because you aren’t moving fast enough or the line isn’t moving fast enough. People act as if you’re put on the planet only to serve them.”
“I look forward to the challenge.”
Chris giggled. “I can’t believe we’re doing this!”
“What, turning our hometowns into horrific stereotypes?”
“Well, yes, but I meant switching lives. Are you heading over to NYEspresso tonight?”
“Uh-huh.” Eva couldn’t wait to be in the place, knowing it was hers, however temporarily. “I think I can just make it over there before closing.”
Chris snorted. “Yeah, figure how much time you’ll need realistically, then add half an hour for delays and waiting and crowds and—”
“At least I get to go somewhere.” At home her commute was down the hill and around a corner. Not a lot of sights to take in. “I want to meet your staff, make sure they’re ready to have me take over for a month.”
“They’ll be thrilled. I’ve been such a bitch lately.”
“You?” Eva scoffed. “Never!”
“Uh-huh. You take care, twin.”
“You, too.” Eva hung up the phone, bursting with excitement. Traffic and street noise reached her window. Civilization actually happened here—this was real life! She couldn’t wait to get started. But first, deep breaths, a little meditation to get the nerves under control, calm her down so she didn’t appear too frazzled when she met her crew at NYEspresso.
She sat cross-legged on the scuffed hardwood floor and closed her eyes, loosened her consciousness from her surroundings, swaying slightly to keep herself off balance, clearing her mind, trying to connect to the wise voice deep inside her that never failed to—
The apartment door burst open, making her jump. Must be Chris’s roommate, new since Eva had last visited. Natalie worked near NYEspresso and had mentioned to Chris one day that she needed a roommate. According to Chris, Natalie was either trying to get into bed with a guy or getting kicked out of bed by a guy in one of the most misguided searches for love Chris had ever seen, but she was good-hearted—once she got to know you.
Eva was totally curious to meet her.
“Yeah? Well, screw you, Edward.” Heels clunked furiously down the hallway. “Yeah? You really think that? Dream on, buddy, and guess what, you suck in bed.”
Uh. That was not a person connected to her wise inner voice.
“No, let me tell you, you son-of-a— Oh. Hi.” She stopped outside Eva’s doorway, nearly six feet of stunning brunette, who probably weighed less than Eva, all of five-four. “I’ll call you back, Edward. No? Well, fine. I won’t. Ever. Up yours.”
“Hi.” Eva was having a hard time not giggling. Not that no one ever got pissed in Carmia, but that tirade seemed so New York to her.
“You’re Chris’s sister.” Natalie looked Eva over curiously, taking in the turquoise ballet flats and tiered floral skirt, up to her colorful layers of loose-fitting tops, multiple ear piercings and assortment of butterfly clips in her hair. “She wasn’t kidding. You’re her total opposite.”
“Close to it.” Eva sat as tall as possible, looking Natalie over right back, from her black ankle boots over crimson leggings and black microskirt under a stylish wrapped coat with big leather fastenings, then to top it off, a wide-brimmed black hat. The epitome of fashion chic. She and Chris must turn every head in New York when they went out together.
“You meditating or something?”
“Yes.” Eva smiled. “It keeps me centered and calm. You might want to—”
“Uh-huh.” Natalie didn’t smile back. “My stuff in the refrigerator is marked, and I need the bathroom from five to six a.m. every morning.”
“Not a problem.” Eva bunched her mouth to keep from smirking. Nice to meet you, too. “So you work for an interior design place?”
“Oh. Yeah.” She said it as if it was the most boring job in the world. “I guess.”
“How’s that?”
“It’s okay.” She glanced at her watch, obviously anxious to move on.
Perversely, this made Eva want to keep her talking. “How long have you lived in New York?”
“Forever.”
“Your parents, too? What did they do here?”
Her demeanor thawed a tiny bit. “Mom was a Broadway chorister. Dad is a music professor at Juilliard.”
“Wow! Cool family. Are you musical?”
Natalie leaned against the doorjamb, though her body stayed stiff. “I played clarinet for a bunch of years and took dance lessons. Had a few parts in school plays and musicals, nothing big. I still love going to shows. I probably saw all of them growing up.”
“That’s great.” Eva studied her new roommate, wondering how much further she could pry. “So I’m sorry about the awkward conversation with Edward.”
“He’s a jerk. They’re all jerks.” Natalie shoved away from the door. “I gotta go get ready. I have a date.”
“Oh.” Eva frowned in confusion. “Not with Edward...”
Natalie gave her a withering stare. “As. If.”
“Ah. Well, okay, then.” Eva waved cheerfully. “Have fun with whoever.”
Natalie stalked off.
Eva was pretty sure they’d never be best friends.
And it was a little hard to continue her meditation with her new not-best-friend crashing and muttering around the apartment, but Eva did the best she could. At least when she stood again, she felt more centered, less scattered, though still eager to get to NYEspresso.
Just under an hour later, Eva was standing outside her sister’s shop on Tenth Avenue and West Forty-Third Street in the up-and-coming neighborhood of Hudson Yards. Yes, she’d misjudged how long it took to get there, but the store didn’t close for an hour yet, and what a smorgasbord of faces and auras and interactions to keep her entertained during the walk and subway rides!
Around her was a population in suits, jeans and office casual, mostly denim and black, practically everyone in dark shades, and her in her wild flowery skirt and magenta hoodie. Not that anyone gave her a second glance. You could get away with pretty much any look in this town.
She pushed open the front door and was immediately hit by her favorite smell in the world—second only to the aroma of roasting beans—freshly brewed coffee.
NYEspresso was different than she remembered, though it had been over a year since she’d visited. Chris had obviously put her own stamp on the place after buying it from the previous owners with the money she and Eva had come into at age twenty-five from wealthy grandparents on their mom’s side. The space was sparer than it had been, more efficiently organized, with snappy clear plastic seats and bright white oval tables with chrome supports. The counter was also bright white, a long, sharp rectangle with ordering and cashier service at the far end and pastry behind a glass case closer to the entrance. The walls had been painted deep red and left bare except for white glass sconces surrounded by black iron cages that looked like chain mail.
Chic. Edgy. Not the most relaxing space. But this wasn’t Carmia, this was Manhattan.
Eva approached the counter with a smile, held out her hand to the barista on duty, a handsome kid with three eyebrow rings and a necklace tattoo, whom she vaguely remembered had a weird nickname. “Hey, there. I’m Eva. Chris’s sister.”
“Yeah, hey. How are you?” Only with his thick New York accent it sounded like Ha-wa-ya? “I’m Jinx.”
“Jinx, right. Just stopping in to say hi tonight. I’ll be on the bar officially in the morning.”
“Cool. Glad to have you. It’s cool what you and Chris worked out.” He looked toward the door and rolled his eyes. “Oh, brother, here we go.”
Eva swung around. A large bouquet of flowers was walking toward her on male legs.
Jinx snorted. “The dude does not give up.”
The flowers lowered.
Eva’s heart stopped. Okay, not really—that would be ridiculous, because she’d collapse—but it sure felt as if everything inside her and in the whole world had paused to note this auspicious occasion.
Thick, short, dark hair that looked as if he’d tried hard to style it but the strands refused to lie flat. Deep brown eyes under dark brows. High cheekbones, a lean jaw. Full mouth, with a faint groove on either side. The shadow of masculine stubble. A small gold stud in one ear. Expensive dark suit, subtly patterned silk tie in blue, burgundy and beige. Gold watch. Perfectly shined shoes.
