Page 2 of A Tempting Seduction (Protectors of Jasper Creek #5)

Chapter One

PRESENT DAY

The cowbell above Java Jolt's door clanged like a fire alarm when Renzo and I walked in Tuesday morning.

I stopped dead in my tracks, blinking at the transformation.

Gone were the mismatched plastic chairs and wobbly tables that had looked like they'd been rescued from a garage sale.

Instead, bright velvet couches in emerald green and deep purple dotted the space, paired with low coffee tables stacked with books and local newspapers.

String lights hung from exposed beams, and plants were tucked into every available corner.

“Damn,” I muttered, taking in the cozy reading nooks and study areas. “This place actually looks like somewhere you'd want to hang out.”

Renzo grinned and nudged my shoulder. “Ruby's been working her magic. Wait until you taste what she can do with an espresso machine.”

The line snaked halfway to the door, filled with new faces along with the usual suspects.

Florence Horton sat at a corner table, her purple hair teased high, holding court with Alice Draper.

Bernie Faulkes was sitting next to the window, reading a newspaper.

The morning rush buzzed with conversation and the hiss of steam from behind the counter.

“Jesus, when did Java Jolt become Grand Central Station?” I asked, counting at least fifteen people ahead of us.

“Since Ruby Miller took over as manager.” Renzo checked his watch. “If we're lucky, she's working the machine and not Jordan. Trust me, the coffee will be worth the wait. Sublime doesn't begin to cover it.”

I'd heard Carrie mention Ruby Miller a few times, usually in the context of her kids' babysitting adventures, but I'd never actually met the woman. After eighteen months of Nashville's chain coffee that tasted like burnt water, the idea of decent coffee had me willing to wait.

We shuffled forward in line, and I found myself studying the menu board above the counter. Hand-lettered specials in colorful chalk included things like “Cinnamon Roll Latte” and “Maple Bacon Mocha.” For some unknown reason maple bacon coffee didn’t sound half bad.

“Ford Larson, is that you?”

I turned to see Mrs. Henderson from the bank, but before I could respond, chaos erupted behind me.

A high school girl with a tiny white dog on a retractable leash was running forward and then the dog somehow managed to wrap the leash around my legs like a lasso.

The dog, no bigger than a guinea pig with delusions of grandeur, yapped excitedly while its owner tried to untangle the mess.

“Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry!” The girl grabbed the leash and yanked. “Bad girl. Bad girl. Godiva, come back here this instant.”

I tried to step backward to give her room to work, but the leash tightened around my ankles like some kind of trap. The dog darted between my boots, and I found myself doing an awkward dance to avoid crushing the little furball.

“No, sweetheart,” I told the girl, reaching down to help before she trussed me up like a Thanksgiving turkey. “Let me just?—”

She yanked the leash again, only this time she did it with two hands with all her might.

My feet tangled.

My arms windmilled.

And that was all she wrote.

I went down like a felled tree, landing squarely on my ass with a thud that rattled the floorboards. The impact sent a jolt up my spine and knocked the wind clean out of my lungs.

Everything went so silent you could hear a pin drop, then the entire coffee shop erupted in applause.

Figured.

“Well, that's one way to make an entrance,” Florence called out, not bothering to hide her grin. “I've seen more graceful elephants at the circus.”

Bernie folded his newspaper with deliberate precision and adjusted his glasses. “Son, I've watched construction workers for forty years, and that's the finest example of a controlled building collapse that I’ve ever seen.”

Heat flooded my cheeks as laughter continued to ripple through the crowd. It was at that point that the tiny dog planted itself on my chest. I waited for her to lift a hind leg and take a piss, but at last my luck was changing and the little dust bunny began licking my face.

“Mister, I’m so sorry. Godiva, come here.” Somehow, as if by magic, the girl was able to untangle the leash and I was finally free. Then Godiva was in the girl’s arms and they shot out of the coffee shop.

“Are you all right?”

The voice came from behind the counter, low and musical, filled with concern. I looked up and every coherent thought in my head evaporated.

Red hair, the color of autumn leaves, tumbled over her shoulders in waves that caught the morning light streaming through the windows. Green eyes studied my face with genuine worry, and when she bit her lower lip, a dimple appeared in her left cheek that made my chest tighten.

This had to be Ruby Miller.

And I'd just made a complete fool of myself in front of her.

“I...” My voice came out as a croak.

Ruby's eyes widened with distress. She glanced at the line of customers, then back at me sprawled on the floor like roadkill.

“Jordan, take the counter,” she called over her shoulder.

“But the espresso machine's acting up again,” a male voice whined from behind the industrial coffee equipment.

“No, it’s not. You just have to baby it,” Ruby said as she hurried around the counter, her curves moving beneath a flannel shirt that hung almost to her knees. Damn, I really wished I could get a look at what she had hidden underneath that shirt.

She dropped to her knees beside me, leaning over to check for injuries, and suddenly I had a perfect view down the front of her shirt.

Creamy white skin disappeared into a black tank top that cradled breasts that could stop traffic in three counties.

Definitely more than a handful for most men but perfect for me.

Freckles dusted her chest like cinnamon on whipped cream, and the scent of vanilla and coffee beans surrounded me.

“Can you move everything?” she asked, her face inches from mine. “Any pain in your neck or back?”

Those green eyes studied me, and I realized I'd been staring like I’d never seen a woman before. My brain finally kicked back online.

“I'm fine,” I managed, my voice rougher than it should have been. “Just wounded pride.”

Renzo's laughter boomed from somewhere above us. “Oh, this is priceless. Ford Larson, ladies and gentlemen, brought down by a dog the size of a hamster.”

“Get up slowly,” Ruby instructed, placing a gentle hand on my shoulder. The touch sent electricity straight through my work shirt. “Sometimes adrenaline masks injuries.”

I sat up carefully. “I really am fine,” I insisted, but Ruby was having none of it.

“No arguments. You're lying down on that couch over there, until I'm satisfied you don't have any real injury we should be concerned about.” She pointed toward the emerald-green velvet sofa.

“Ruby, I appreciate the concern, but?—”

“Couch. Now.”

The authority in her voice didn’t allow for disagreement. Every customer in the place watched with obvious amusement as I hauled myself to my feet and trudged toward the indicated furniture like a scolded child.

The couch was soft, and Ruby fluffed a throw pillow then placed it behind my head.

“I'll get my coffee and check on you in a minute,” Renzo said, still grinning like an idiot. “I can see you're in excellent hands.” I glared at him, then turned my attention back to Ruby.

She perched on the edge of the coffee table, close enough that I could see the gold flecks in her green eyes.

“The machine's making that grinding noise again,” Jordan called from behind the counter. “And Mrs. Peterson wants extra foam, but the steamer's not cooperating.”

Ruby muttered something under her breath that sounded distinctly uncomplimentary about Jordan's mechanical abilities, then turned back to me and smiled.

“So,” I said, finally remembering how to form complete sentences. “You're Ruby Miller.”

“Guilty as charged.” That dimple appeared again. “And you're Ford Larson, Carrie's brother. She talks about you all the time.”

“How’d you know it’s me?”

“I’ve seen your picture at her house.”

“Are you over there much?”

“I’ve been known to babysit for her once in a while.”

“That's either very brave or slightly insane.”

Ruby laughed. “A bit of both. Your oldest nephew convinced the other three that they could build a rocket ship out of couch cushions and fly to the moon. I found all four of them standing on your sister's kitchen table with a bottle of cooking spray, claiming it was rocket fuel.”

“Dear God. What did you do?”

“Told them rocket ships needed proper landing gear, and since they didn’t have it, we spent the afternoon building a blanket moon base instead.

” She grinned. “The ten-year-old wanted to charge his brothers and sister admission to the base, claiming he did most of the work, but I convinced him that astronauts share their discoveries with humanity.”

“Smart thinking. Though with those four, bribery usually works better. A couple of dollars and they'll behave like angels.”

“Where's the fun in that?” Ruby's eyes danced with humor. “Besides, Cleo informed me that angels are boring, and she'd rather be a dragon. I love the imagination of a five-year-old.”

I found myself laughing despite still feeling like an idiot for my spectacular fall. “That sounds like my Cleo. She's got strong opinions about everything.”

“Wonder where she gets that from,” Ruby said dryly.

“She gets it from Carrie. Definitely from Carrie.” We both laughed.

“I should probably get back to work,” Ruby said, starting to rise.

“Wait.” I pressed a hand to my forehead dramatically. “I think I might have a concussion. I probably shouldn't be left alone.”

Ruby raised one perfectly shaped eyebrow, her lips twitching with suppressed laughter. “A concussion?”

“Definitely. I'm seeing stars.”

“Ford Larson.” She crossed her arms, which did amazing things for her already impressive cleavage. “You fell on your ass.”

The words hit me like a lightning bolt. Carrie's voice echoed in my memory from our last phone call: “When the right woman comes along, she'll knock you flat on your ass and you won't know what hit you.”

Well, I'd definitely been knocked on my ass. And I definitely didn't know what had hit me, unless you counted a tiny dog and the most beautiful woman I'd ever laid eyes on.

“Would you give me your number?” The words tumbled out before I could stop them.

Ruby's smile disappeared and she gave me a confused, almost hurt look. “Why would you want my number?”

I grinned slowly. “I was thinking about calling you and asking you out on a date.”

This time her expression shuttered. “I don’t date.”

“Right. Of course. I just thought?—”

“I should get back to work.” She moved toward the counter with quick, efficient steps that screamed retreat.

I sat up straighter, my pride stinging worse than my tailbone. “Could I at least get a cup of coffee? Since I'm already here and all.”

Ruby paused, glancing back with an expression I couldn't read. “What kind?”

“Surprise me.”

She studied my face for a long moment, then nodded once. “Coming right up.”

I watched her work behind the counter as Jordan moved to the till. Ruby’s movements were graceful as she pulled shots and steamed milk. Whatever she was creating involved multiple syrups and a generous dollop of whipped cream topped with what looked like cinnamon and brown sugar.

When she brought it over, the smell alone made my mouth water. Rich coffee mingled with vanilla, caramel, and something that reminded me of my grandmother's kitchen during the holidays.

“What is it?” I asked, accepting the oversized to-go cup.

“Trade secret.” Ruby's smile was back, but more guarded than before. “Let me know what you think.”

I took a sip and nearly groaned with pleasure. The coffee was perfect, complex and smooth with layers of flavor that hit different notes on my tongue. It was like drinking liquid comfort food.

“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph,” I breathed. “This is incredible.”

Ruby's cheeks flushed pink with pleasure at the compliment. “I'm glad you like it.”

“Like it? I'm pretty sure I want to marry it.” I took another sip, savoring the warmth that spread through my chest. “What do you call this masterpiece?”

“I don't know yet. I was just experimenting.”

“Well, whatever you decide to name it, put it on the menu. You'll make a fortune.”

“I'll think about it.” Ruby glanced toward the counter where Jordan was struggling with what sounded like a dying espresso machine. “I really do need to get back.”

“Of course.” I stood up, testing my balance. Everything worked fine, though my ego still felt a little bruised by her rejection. “Thanks for the coffee.”

“Thanks for the entertainment,” Ruby said with a grin that made my pulse skip. “Try not to get attacked by any more dogs on your way out.”

I headed toward the door, pausing to wave at Renzo, who was watching the whole exchange with obvious amusement. The coffee warmed my hands through thick paper cup, and I knew without a doubt I'd be back tomorrow morning.

Ruby Miller might not date, but she made coffee like an angel and had a smile that could light up a room. Something told me that whatever wall she'd built around herself, it wasn't unbreachable.

After all, she'd already knocked me flat on my ass.

How hard could it be to return the favor?