Page 10 of Prelude of Love (Harmony of Hearts #6)
Chapter Six
EARLY
I snuggled deeper into Duke’s arms, enjoying the afterglow of our vigorous lovemaking.
His fingers traced lazy patterns on my back. “Something interesting happened at work today.”
“Mmm?” I nuzzled against him, only half listening.
“Chance Prince stopped by Hurly-burly.”
I shot up, almost knocking my head against Duke’s chin. “What? And you’re only telling me this now ?” I smacked his chest. “You absolute tease! I can’t believe you held out on me.”
His lips twitched with amusement. “In fairness, we were preoccupied earlier. You pounced on me the second I got home.”
“Details. Now.” I straddled his waist, pinning him down. “And don’t leave anything out.”
“He came in wearing the world’s most obvious disguise of a baseball cap.” Duke rolled his eyes. “I had to save him from some drunk asshole who was getting too pushy.”
“My hero.” I grinned, wiggling my hips. “Look at you, already protecting him before he's ours.”
“Someone had to step in. The kid needs to learn better situational awareness if he’s going to wander around alone.”
“Did you sweep him off his feet after his dashing rescue?”
Duke snorted. “Hardly. Though he certainly tried his best to flirt his way into my pants.”
“And you didn’t bring him home tonight?” I pouted with disappointment.
“It’ll do him good to learn he can't always get what he wants the second he wants it.”
I snickered. “I’ll take it as a positive sign you’re already training him.”
“It’s cute how he thinks he can push my buttons, as if he’s the one in control.” Duke made a smug noise. “That’s one lesson I’ll enjoy teaching him, if things go that way.”
“There are so many lessons we could teach him between us.” Although my body still felt satiated, the possibility of having Chance sandwiched between me and Duke deeply aroused me.
“Slow your roll, Duchess.” He guided me back down to his chest, wrapping his arms around me. “We have a long way to go before your hall pass fantasy comes true.”
“Don’t act like I’m the only one interested in him.” I knew my husband too well to believe he wasn’t at least a little intrigued by Chance.
Duke ignored my comment. “He’ll probably show up at Brewhaha tomorrow morning since he’s here early to check out the filming locations ahead of time.”
My mind raced with possibilities. “You think so?”
“Don’t even think about it. No meddling.”
I feigned outrage. “Why, I would never! I’ll be perfectly well-behaved.”
“Duchess…” Duke’s warning tone made me shiver.
“I promise to be good,” I swore, although I was already planning how to be bad.
Duke groaned. “That look means trouble.”
“Don’t worry, I’ll make sure you enjoy every minute.”
I bounced through Brewhaha’s front door with an extra spring in my step, humming a Devil’s Chance song under my breath. For once, I’d arrived before opening, giving me time to prep everything instead of rushing through my usual morning routine .
“Am I hallucinating, or are you actually early?” Wolfie’s teasing voice carried from behind the counter, where he added new pastries into the display case.
I shook my head at the handsome man restocking our cups.
His chiseled jawline and dark brown hair made most of our customers swoon regularly.
With his sleeves rolled up to show off those beautiful forearms, they had plenty of eye candy to drool over.
His simple black T-shirt and dark-wash jeans looked like something off a magazine cover.
“I know I’m fashionably late ninety-nine percent of the time, but that other one percent keeps you on your toes. ”
He straightened up, his charming smile appearing as he dusted flour off his hands onto his black apron. “More like it keeps me in a constant state of anxiety, wondering if you’ll show up before we open or an hour after.”
“You know you love me.” I breezed past him to grab my apron from its hook. “Besides, I make up for my tardiness with my sparkling personality and pretty face.”
“And your modesty,” Wolfie added with a laugh. “I’m guessing you’re early because Duke kept you up all night, and you never went to sleep?”
“Ha ha.” I tied my apron with a flourish. “Can’t a man be excited about his day?”
“Not when that man is perpetually late to everything.” Wolfie straightened, crossing his muscular arms as he studied me. “Spill. What’s got you so chipper?”
I began wiping down the already spotless counter. “Well, there’s a chance—pun absolutely intended—that Chance Prince might stop by today.”
Wolfie’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought the movie shoot didn’t start for a few more days?”
“Duke said he stopped by the restaurant to check out filming locations yesterday.” I couldn’t contain my grin. “We figured he might want to scope out our humble establishment next since we’re another shooting location.”
“I’ll try not to make a big deal when he comes in.” Wolfie’s lips twitched. “Though watching you bounce around like an excited puppy is entertainment enough.”
A gasp from the kitchen doorway made us both turn. Brinley froze, still holding a tray of fresh muffins. “Chance Prince is coming here? Today?”
I grinned at Brinley’s enthusiasm. Her strawberry blonde curls bounced as she practically vibrated with excitement, matching her bubbly personality. The pastel pink streak in her hair complemented her rosy cheeks and the sparkly butterfly clips holding back her bangs.
“Maybe,” I replied, though her enthusiasm was contagious. “And we’re all going to be totally cool about it, right?”
“Of course!” She set down her tray. “I promise not to fangirl. Much. Just a tiny bit. Barely noticeable.”
“Brinley…” Wolfie’s warning tone made her giggle.
“Fine, I’ll be professional.” She arranged the pastries in the display case with extra care. “Do you think he’ll want to try my chocolate chip muffins? Should I make extra whipped cream?”
“Breathe, Brinley.” Wolfie chuckled as he reached over to ruffle her hair. She ducked away with a squeak of protest, readjusting her clips.
“You’re messing up my perfectly crafted ‘I woke up this way but actually spent an hour on my hair’ look,” she pouted, though her eyes sparkled with mirth.
“Heaven forbid someone thinks you wake up less than perfect,” I teased, helping her arrange the muffins in the display case. Each one was positioned with surgical precision.
“But what if he doesn’t eat sweets?” Brinley continued. “What if he’s on some fancy Hollywood diet?”
“What if you focus on making these displays look as irresistible as always?” I suggested. “Trust me, no one can resist your muffins once they see that mountain of whipped cream you pile on top.”
“You mean my artistically sculpted cloud of happiness,” she declared with such earnest conviction that I laughed. “Besides, the ratio of whipped cream to muffin is scientifically calculated to produce maximum smile wattage per bite.”
“Is that the technical term?” Wolfie asked, dodging the paper towel she threw at him.
“Don’t mock my methods,” she warned, brandishing a whipped cream canister as a weapon. “Or the next latte art I make for you will be a frowny face.”
Before he could respond, the morning rush began. The bell above the door chimed repeatedly as customers streamed in, most of them regulars who needed their caffeine fix before facing the day. I fell into the familiar rhythm of taking orders, making drinks, and keeping the line moving.
“Medium caramel macchiato for Sarah!” I called out, already starting on the next drink in the queue. The morning bustle kept me from watching the door, though I couldn’t stop sneaking glances between customers.
“Wolfie, we need more oat milk!” Brinley’s voice carried over the espresso machine’s hiss.
“On it!” He ducked into the back room to grab more. When he returned, three more people had joined the line, all of them regulars I greeted by name.
The morning flew by in a whirl of coffee orders, warm pastries, and friendly chatter. I stayed focused on each customer, determined not to let my anticipation affect my service. Still, I couldn’t quite shake the excited flutter in my stomach every time the door opened, hoping it might be Chance.
The bell chimed for what felt like the hundredth time that morning. I glanced up from wiping down the counter, ready to greet another regular, but my rehearsed welcome died on my lips.
There, attempting to blend in with all the subtlety of a peacock at a penguin party, stood Chance Prince.
The baggy bomber jacket and black glasses made a decent disguise, but there was no missing someone as handsome as Chance.
The glasses enhanced his appeal, giving him an adorably bookish vibe that contrasted with his rock-star persona.
My mind flashed to Duke taking me hard the other night while Chance’s voice had filled our bedroom, making my cheeks flush with heat.
I bit back a laugh as he walked toward the counter, trying to look casual while scanning the café to see if anyone recognized him. Our gazes met, and his confident stride faltered for a moment before his lips curved into a devastating smile.
Those lips had starred in quite a few of my fantasies last night, especially when Duke had growled the lyrics of “Requiem of Sin” against my neck.
The memory of him claiming me while Chance’s voice surrounded us made my skin tingle.
Now, seeing Chance in person, looking somehow both dangerous and endearingly nervous behind those glasses, I understood why Duke had gotten so worked up.
He radiated the same sexuality that came through in his music, but there was also something vulnerable in the way he kept fidgeting with his jacket sleeves.
The contrast was intriguing. While his stage presence was all confidence and seduction, the Chance in front of me seemed more real as a beautiful young man trying to navigate fame while maintaining some semblance of normalcy.