Caught Up In You. Roni Loren
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Caught Up In You
Roni Loren
CONTENTS
Dedication
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
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Epilogue
Acknowledgments
Praise for Roni Loren
About the Publisher
To my grandfather, Ron, who buys my books but (thankfully) doesn’t read them. Thank you for always being such a supportive force in my life. I’m proud to be named after you.
“You know, picturing someone naked this early in the morning isn’t good for your health.”
Kelsey LeBreck leaned forward to get a better view through the kitchen’s pass-through, smirking at Nathan’s jab but not tearing her gaze away from her subject. “Hush and keep flipping his eggs.”
But of course her co-worker ignored that command. “I mean, think how long you’ll have to wait before you can get home to your vibrator and imagine Mr. Tall, Dark, and Loaded rocking your world. You’re going to be so pent up and distracted, you’ll screw up everyone’s order.”
“I do that anyway.” Except his. Never his. Though, that wasn’t really an accomplishment, considering he always ordered the same thing.
“Yet you still get better tips than Chandra.”
“I’m charming that way.” And desperate. When that tip meant the difference between being able to pay for a tank of gas instead of riding the bus, she could channel so much sunshine and sweetness, even the grumpiest customer couldn’t be mad at her for long.
“Are the muffins ready to go in yet? Darryl’s going to be here any minute and you know how he gets if shit is late.”
“Working on it.” Kelsey blindly stirred her muffin batter as she watched Wyatt Austin adjust his glasses, fold his newspaper just so, and then spread out a stack of documents on the table in front of him. He had a way of moving that was somehow graceful and efficient all at once. Like he’d figured out the most streamlined way to do each and every thing so that he could fit the maximum amount of work into every minute of the day.
And maybe he had. God knows his schedule was more predictable than the sunrise. At six fifteen every weekday morning, he would walk in the cafe with his newspaper tucked under his arm and his own travel mug of coffee. He’d sit at the same table in the far corner, the one that provided him both a view of the television on the wall and the least amount of glare for his laptop screen. She knew that only because she’d finally asked him one day why he chose that booth all the time. When she’d joked that he sat there because it was her section, he’d just offered that enigmatic smile of his—one that had promptly made her forget the last order she’d taken from the table before him.
“You need to stop torturing yourself,” Nathan said from behind her, the sizzle of the griddle playing soundtrack in the background. “From what I’ve heard, the suit doesn’t date. And he’s not gay either. Believe me, I’d be the one serving him eggs and sausage if he were.”
She snorted and finally looked back at Nathan. “Sausage? You’re going with that one, really?”
He held his arms out to his sides and gave her a come-on-how-could-I-pass-that-up look.
“How do you even know this stuff? And you, with the fetish for skater boys, would go after Wyatt Austin, CEO-in-training? Please.”
“I love the shit out of that strong, silent type. They’re usually crazy good in the sack. Like they’re saving up all that intensity just for you.” He shrugged and turned over a row of bacon with his spatula. “And money never hurt anybody. I’m not above being a kept man.”
“You’re a top.”
“And so are you, baby girl. But that hasn’t stopped you from your mad, passionate love affair with Mr. In Charge.”
She sighed and turned back to her batter, grabbing a ladle so she could scoop it into the muffin tins. It was a mad, passionate love affair. He was the absolute perfect boyfriend for her right now. Delicious to look at, panty-dampening to fantasize about, and completely and utterly unattainable.
Nathan set a plate next to her and slid the egg white omelet and two slices of turkey bacon onto it. “Order up. Now, if you’re not going to give up on this crush, why don’t you take this plate over there and ask the guy out?”
She spun to face him, muffin tray in her hand. “Did you forget to take your meds today? I’m a waitress and wannabe baker. His family owns an entire company.”
“So the fuck what? He has more money than you. Big deal. Doesn’t mean he’s better than you. In fact, he’d be a damn lucky bastard to get a date with you. Hell, I’d take you out just to get these secret muffin recipes of yours.”
She handed the pan to him, picked up Wyatt’s plate, and kissed Nathan’s cheek. “Thanks, hon. But if I’ve learned one lesson in life, it’s that fantasy is always better than reality.”
He gave her a sly smile. “But fantasy can’t have