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WILLA

M y hands are on autopilot, and I love it .

Measure coffee. Fill up the water. Run a damp cloth over every imaginable surface to keep it sparkling clean. I can feel myself smiling at the customers in the shop.

I've only been here for two weeks, but this is already one of the best jobs I've ever had. Charming Café certainly lives up to the name: Desire, the quirky owner, pours all her passion into this charming shop in downtown Cedarville.

Cedarville itself has been amazing so far, too. Fresh mountain air. Mellow, small-town people. It feels like a close-knit community. A chance for a fresh start. Very different from my family, put it that way.

My family . A shudder runs through me just thinking about them.

There is always a fight of some kind on the horizon—especially since Dad decided that he’s enrolling me in University back in Pittsburgh when I return in the fall.

He doesn’t realize that I’m seriously trying to find a way to stay here, out from under his thumb.

I really do love it here. The constant view of trees and mountaintops, plus access to the most amazing coffee in town, has me waking up with a smile on my face every morning.

Being surrounded by the fresh aroma of cinnamon Danish and carrot muffins is good for the soul.

Plus, Desire let me set up a small display of my hand-crafted jewelry at the far end of the counter.

She claims my charms have the “perfect sweet energy for the café's overall vibe”.

I give my hands a quick scrub under the hot water, then grab a fresh cloth and wipe down every vacant table.

"Willa?"

I hurry over to meet Desire at the counter. "Yeah?"

She flashes one of her trademark toothy grins, as bright as the lavender sparkle scarf tied around her hair and her blue and green tie-dye dress. "There's usually a lull right around now. Could you run some coffees across the street for me?"

"Sure." I help her put together the order – two black coffees, and an assortment of pastries. The businesses directly across the street are a hair salon, a clothing store, and a tattoo shop. I didn't think any of them opened until eleven. "Where are they going?" I ask.

"My brother is getting a tattoo sketched out," she explains, shaking her head slightly. "I think he's nuts, but it’s none of my business. Still, I'm not going to let him make any decisions undercaffeinated. He might end up with something ridiculous."

I laugh while picking up the coffee tray and pastry box. "Got it. Be right back."

The sign on the door of "As The Crow Inks" says they're not open. I knock, then bump the door with my hip. It swings open, and I step inside and look around.

The front room is mostly white with stainless steel counters – almost surgical, except for the huge array of artwork on the walls. I've never noticed the odds and ends on shelves and in the front window – t-shirts, sunglasses, accessories like leather wrist cuffs.

"Hello?" I set the tray with two large cups on the counter. "Coffee delivery!"

Crow comes bounding out of the back room with a bright smile. He's been by the café many times and always seems to be in a great mood. His girlfriend Emma also works at Charming Café, and told me he's not only a tattoo artist, but a volunteer firefighter. "Hey, Willa. Thanks."

I'm still struggling to open the box of pastries, while he's already chugging his coffee. "Just because you're a fire expert doesn't mean you won't burn your tongue," I laugh, trying to unstick the tape from the cardboard with my thumbnail.

"Need a hand with that?" An unfathomably deep voice booms from barely a foot behind me, sending my heart into my throat. I jump with a squeal, spinning and almost letting the entire box fly out of my hands. My nose is an inch from a wall of deeply tanned flesh.

As I jerk to a stop, a raspberry-topped Danish flies out of the box and sticks to the ridiculously sculpted abs in front of me.

The owner of the abs takes the box from my hand and peels the Danish from his stomach with a chuckle. "Ahh…I guess this one's mine." As soon as the box is back safely on the counter, his massive hand lightly grips my elbow for a split second. "I'm so sorry. Didn't mean to startle you."

Heat flashes through my cheeks as I reach for the stack of napkins in the box and dab at the red smear along the center of the picture-perfect six pack. "I'm sorry. It's?—"

He gently takes the napkin from me. Crap, I'm being far too intimate with a total stranger. I look up into his stunning face, and a deep shudder runs through me. He's… gorgeous . Rugged and rough, with deep brown eyes I just want to take photos of forever.

He frowns. "I know. I'm scary-looking. And I can't help my voice." I think he's speaking as softly as he can.

Oh boy. I hope I haven't offended the most handsome man I've ever seen.

He steps back and extends his hand. "I'm Huxley. Or just Hux is fine, too."

I'm still staring at him. Though to be fair, there's an awful lot to stare at.

He's huge – at least six foot four, with muscles like a bodybuilder.

Dark hair and eyes, tanned skin. The deepest voice I've ever heard in person.

And yet… There's a lightness in the way he smiles and laughs. In the way he studies my face.

His warm, rough palm belongs around the handle of an axe, but feels good against mine too. "Willa."

"She's the new girl at the café who thought up those new carrot apple chocolate chip muffins," Crow says. "This is what you miss when you take off for a few weeks."

Hux releases my hand and narrows his eyes as he growls at Crow. A second later, he's laughing with him. "We all have family stuff sometimes. Geez." He crams a huge bite of the smushed Danish into his mouth, then his eyes roll back in his head. "Mmm. Mmm- hmm ."

I love that such a big man in his…thirties, I think?...is so melodramatic about pastries. Even though he's solid as a rock, there's a twinkle in his eye that makes me want to step closer.

Crow's eyebrow arches as he clears his throat. "You know, that ink’s dry enough. You wanna put a shirt on and stop terrorizing this sweet young lady?"

Hux turns, walking toward the back room and giving me a mouthwatering glimpse of his broad, rippling back.

It's covered in thick slashing lines of what looks like marker, depicting trees surrounding a stone castle, with an overflowing treasure chest near the middle.

A full moon takes up a large part of his left shoulder blade.

"That's…not the finished artwork, is it?" I ask.

"Nah." Crow shakes his head. "We're still working on ideas. We want to keep it a little bit storybook and a little bit pirate. But we definitely know it needs to swoop around the contours of the muscle."

Hux returns, pulling down the bottom of a snug black t-shirt. It does nothing to camouflage his size. In fact, the sleeves end at a section of his bicep that makes them look even thicker.

"Did you bake these?" he asks before popping the last of the Danish into his mouth.

"Sort of. I helped."

"They're fantastic." As Hux washes the pastry down with a swig of coffee, it draws my attention to his lips.

The urge to stretch up for a kiss is overwhelming—not to mention ridiculous, and totally unlike me.

I don't even know the guy! But all I can think about is having those massive arms around me.

Quick – think of something vaguely intelligent to say. "That mountain scenery in the tattoo artwork—did you guys make it up, or is it based on a real place?"

Hux exchanges a glance with Crow and then chuckles, the deep rumble sending sparks through me. "Like your Danish— sort of . It's a mashup of several different real places."

Crow holds up his phone. "Check it out."

I stare in awe as he scrolls through several photos. None of them shows more than the roof of the house, but the rolling hills and rocky crags of Wolfe Mountain are seen perfectly. "Wow."

I should be getting back to work, but something stops me. As in, Huxley. I don't want to leave his orbit. Think of some more chitchat, fast. "I like the jewelry you have in the window," I say to Crow.

Huxley’s head tilts, then he snaps his fingers. "Wait, I remember now! The new morning girl at Charming Café… Didn't Desire say something about you making jewelry?"

"Did she? Yes, I do. But it's stones and beads and wire spirals. Charms for bracelets and necklaces, stuff like that. Not cool rock 'n' roll accessories like these."

Crow shrugs while taking another huge swig of coffee. "Different doesn't mean not cool. We have the space to put a small collection of your stuff at the end there, if you like. Everyone in Cedarville loves to buy local."

Hux is giving me a look that makes it impossible to guess what he's thinking. Then his gorgeous lips curl into a smile. "Hey, I like rocks and stones. I'd buy some myself if I were a jewelry guy."

Crow snatches the pastry box away from Hux just as he's reaching for a chocolate cherry cruller. "That one's mine. And I don't think anyone makes jewelry that wouldn't fall apart from you stomping around in it." From the way they talk to each other, I can tell they've been friends for a long time.

"Well, enjoy breakfast. Good luck with the…um, storybook pirate." I wave, then spin toward the door just as Hux is giving me another look I can't figure out.

As I hurry back across the street, my heart is racing as fast as if I'd just jogged half a mile. I've never gotten so revved up around a man before—prickly, overheated, and completely at a loss of what to say or think.

All I know is that I cannot wait to see him again.