Page 3 of Tentacles for Christmas

“Hi, Rowen Red,” I replied with a giggle I couldn’t hold back. “I’m always happy to learn more about my customers. For instance, do you want coffee?”

“Yes, coffee!” Red responded with eagerness as if I’d guessed his deepest desire. Still didn’t have enough to go on.

“Any flavors you like?”

“I like salt,” Red nodded and then his eyes widened as if he realized what he’d said was weird on its own. “Salted caramel, I mean. Yeah. Do you have that?”

Tapping my chin, I mentally ran through our inventory of syrups and toppings I’d had to convince Eddy to buy. He was more focused on quality coffee and baked goods. “Hmm, let me see what I can whip up. Hot or cold?”

“Hot—I mean, cold! Please,” Red added while staring at the counter. I wasn’t sure if he was always so awkward, but I found it adorable on the sexy man. He had no clue what a cutey he was.

While I brewed a light blend and lined a cup with caramel syrup, I took in Red out of the corner of my eye. He kept checking me out, turning redder and looking away. If I had to guess, Red liked how I looked in my white crop top and cutoff jean shorts, but didn’t know what to do about the attraction. Possibly a closet case?

Finishing his drink after blending it, I added whipped cream and sea salt before presenting Red with the off-menu concoction. “Tell me what you think, and I’ll add it to the menu. Free of charge for the inspiration.”

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” Red insisted, unwrapping a straw and pushing it in before taking a tentative sip. He’d said he liked salted caramel, so I wasn’t sure why he looked surprised when he got a taste. “This is amazing!”

“Thank you,” I smiled and grabbed a pen to write down the steps for the other baristas. “We’ll call itRed Salted Caramel.”

Red sipped the drink again with a small smile before pulling out his wallet. “If you won’t let me pay, can I leave a tip?”

Before I could say it wasn’t required, Eddy popped out from the small kitchen behind the seating area. “They always appreciate tips,” Eddy stated, opening the display case to add his fresh pastries. Red stuffed a ten into the tip jar on top of the case and Eddy smiled, “Thanks, Red. Good to see you.”

“You too, Mr. Rodgers.”

Giggling at the formal name reminding me of the old children’s show, I almost missed that Red was leaving. Lifting his cup in silent appreciation, he turned towards the door.

“Hope to see you again, soon,” I called out, not willing to let him go so easily.

“Yeah. Okay.” Red nodded before carefully pushing the door open.

Watching him walk across the small parking area and turn towards the water instead of the cars, I truly did hope he would be back soon. Red wasn’t the first hot man I’d seen in town, nor the first to check me out, but the combination of shyness and those sexy tattoos and glasses had me invested.

Rowan Finley was my new favorite customer.

Chapter two

Rowen Finley

October

Workingonenginesalwayscalmed my mind. The routine and familiarity met with the puzzle to solve on how to fix a problem combined to have me forgetting the rest of the world.

The only thing better than being a mechanic was swimming while fully shifted.

The way my friends talked about having sex was how I saw shifting and going for a swim in the Pacific. I let my instincts take control and my whole body lit up as pleasure shot through my limbs. All eight of them.

Swimming in the lake I called home was almost as good. I compared it to when my friends talked about jerking off. It scratched an itch, it was necessary to be in a better mood, but it felt a little lonely.

As for actual sex and jerking off? It wasn’t something I’d ever sought out. I was a twenty-six year old virgin, and I was in no hurry to changemy status. I wasn’t repulsed by the idea of sex, only worried I wouldn’t be able to find someone to go slow and accept all of me.

Someone sweet and kind, open-minded, maybe smelling like coffee and salted caramel…

The wrench I’d been turning slipped out of my hand and fell to the floor under the boat I was standing in, so I’d have to climb off and retrieve it. “Dammit.”

At least I had the boat dry-docked out of the water. I didn’t want to strip naked and go for a swim to the murky bottom of the lake to find my tool in the middle of the work day, but it wouldn’t be the first time.

“Cam,” I muttered to myself. It was the new barista’s fault I was distracted.