Christmas Blend (A holiday romance novella)

By Evie Lester

a cup of smooth, rich coffee and the joy christmas—what could be better?
beth ross finally pulled her life together, opening a coffee shop in the small minnesota town where her special christmas blends have become a local sensation. for beth, the holidays promise to be a season of fulfillment after a devastating divorce and moving back to her hometown to start over. business is good. not great, but good. and the future looks hopeful. finally.
but when handsome, mysterious chad parker walks into her coffee shop to place an order on the day after thanksgiving her carefully constructed world begins to unravel.
the chemistry between them is impossible to deny. but they each have more baggage than santa’s sleigh and an out-of-control business rivalry that could stop any budding romance in its tracks.
only the christmas spirit can save the two from the trouble brewing in the small coffee shop with the alluring coffee and the hope of something wonderful for christmas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Evie Lester
• Release date: Oct 2, 2012
• ISBN: 9781301262823

Book preview

CHRISTMAS BLEND

A holiday romance novella

By

EVIE LESTER

Published by Evie Lester at Smashwords

Copyright 2012 by Evie Lester

All rights reserved

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Chapter 1

Christmas was in the air.

Christmas, and the smell of fresh, rich coffee.

Nothing made Beth Ross feel the thrill of the holiday season like the smell of freshly brewed coffee.

She was a true coffee aficionado. At one time practically a coffee addict. That’s why she named her coffee shop The Coffee Attic. She thought it was a cute name and her loyal customers--who had been keeping her business afloat for three years now--did too.

It was the day after Thanksgiving and Beth was up before dawn to open the shop and begin her annual ritual--brewing her special Christmas blends. They were her very special secret recipes. She ground the best Kona coffee beans and blended her own homemade flavorings and every year her customers gave her rave reviews for the mouthwatering cups of bold, creamy, flavorful elixir.

She used only 100% Hawaiian Kona coffee beans made from coffee plants grown on the slopes of Mount Hualalai in the dark mineral enriched volcanic soil that offered up a smooth, rich coffee with almost no acidity. It was not cheap. But it was the best. And Beth’s Christmas blend was the best.

There was the Gingerbread blend which came with thick, luscious whip cream (which she whipped up herself in the shop) and a sprinkle of freshly ground sugared ginger. The Pumpkin Spice blend which came with the same creamy whip cream and a dusting of pumpkin sugar. And the Peppermint blend which came with a smattering of peppermint candy sprinkles.

She went to great pains to make sure the little extras—the cookies and candies that complimented the drinks—were lovely and delicate and tasty and all thoughtfully arranged in the display case. But the coffee was the main attraction.

It was smooth, yet hearty and fortifying. It was rich and luxurious. And the tastes deeply flavorful and so much like the real thing you would swear you were savoring a gingerbread cookie or a slice of your mother’s pumpkin pie. Or a refreshing peppermint stick.

Mariah Cary was singing I don’t want a lot for Christmas over the speaker system as Beth bobbed the kitchen pulling together ingredients and preparations for her gingerbread cookie mix.

The back door banged open.

Right on schedule, Tommy Beresford, her delivery guy, brought in a tray of pastries and sandwiches. Tommy owned his own delivery service and Beth contracted with him to bring her muffins and sandwiches from her subcontractor in Minneapolis to her shop in Red Bridge, which was about a thirty minute drive outside of the city.

She wasn’t happy with the product, but she hadn’t been able to find another supplier that she could afford, and her shop supplied the only food in the tiny cluster of shops on the main shopping street in Red Bridge. Business hadn’t been good and the town had dwindled. Most people did their shopping in Minneapolis now. But when Beth returned to Red Bridge from New York after her divorce she had been determined to make a go of it so that she could have the idyllic lifestyle she had grown up with. And so far she had made a go of it. But just barely.

She longed to have the resources to expand her kitchen. But honestly, she wasn’t sure she had the culinary skills to do much more than she was doing now, making gingerbread cookies and pumpkin bread and a few homemade candies. She knew her customers were unhappy with her other prefab offerings, but she was no chef. She made great coffee because she loved it. And she could manage the gingerbread cookies and pumpkin bread because they were her mother’s recipes and she had taught her how to make them. But making sandwiches and muffins and other sweet and savory baked goods might be beyond her skill level.

Tommy was bringing in a large supply of sandwiches and then the muffins for the breakfast crowd, which was a good thing because the year had been a slow one but Black Friday, the day after Thanksgiving was always a big sales day. There was a shopping outlet on the outskirts of town that always brought in shoppers and there was the other set of early shoppers headed into Minneapolis and Bloomington for the city shops and the Mall of America. So shoppers would often stop in Red Bridge on the way for coffee and a bite to eat.

Beth was counting on the holiday sales to make up for the lagging sales.

So far the weather had held up, so the shopping crowd should be good. But snow was threatening for the weekend.

Is that one of your special blends, Beth?

Beth handed Tommy a steaming to-go cup of Peppermint coffee which she knew was his favorite.

The first cup of the season, Beth said. Enjoy.

Nothing like your coffee to wake a guy up at the crack of dawn, Tommy said. But don’t let my girlfriend hear I said that. She makes a good cup too, but yours…there’s something in it. I can’t put my finger on it.

Tommy was inhaling the smooth, rich aroma.

And you won’t. My secret recipes are what keep me in business.

I hear you, Tommy laughed. Sign here and I’ll be done.

Thanks, Tommy. Beth wished Tommy a happy holiday and looked up into a steel gray sky of foreboding clouds before slamming the back door shut behind her.

Margret Bentley was eagerly tapping on the glass door.

She owned the dress boutique next door and had been asking about the Christmas blends since Halloween.

That would be one Gingerbread blend, Beth thought to herself.

You’re up and out early Margret, Beth said as she hastily unlocked the door and turned the Open side of her window sign to face out.

Black Friday, Margret responded. I’m opening early to try to compete with the malls. I’ve got doorbusters until noon. And I have some new Christmas sweaters.

Margret’s taste in merchandise was a little over-the-top for Beth’s taste, especially her Christmas sweaters which she started wearing every year about this time. In fact, she was wearing one this morning. It featured Santa standing over a workbench of elves with an array of toys strewn all over. But there were actual toys sewn onto the sweater. A rag doll and a teddy bear. A ballerina with a pink tutu and a toy soldier complete with a toy gun. Oh, and then there was Santa, who had a full beard of fluffy cotton. Where did she get these sweaters? Beth wondered. They must have cost her a fortune.

But then everyone said that Margret’s husband, Truman, or Truby for short, was loaded. And that the shop was Margret’s folly. But she didn’t call it that at any rate. The shop was called Cherry Blossoms.

Well, I’ll have to stop by.

If you get a break. I’ve seen the crowds you draw on Black Friday mornings. Your Christmas blends are getting to be notorious around here.

Hopefully we’ll all have lots of customers this weekend.

From your mouth to God’s ears, Margret said, as she surveyed the recently laid out muffins in the display case.

What’ll you have Margret? Your usual Gingerbread blend?

You remembered?

I try, Beth said. She hummed to the tune of Do you know what I know as she filled Margret’s own big red mug with the Santa Claus face.

Ohhh, Beth, Margret cooed. It smells so good.

Beth beamed with pride. These were the small pleasures she lived for now—a good cup of coffee well made, and a satisfied customer who appreciated her coffee.

As Margret spooned in sugar and poured in thick, fresh cream she continued to chat while Beth began placing more of the pastries in the display case. She knew her homemade pumpkin bread would sell out first. Then later on in the day, around lunchtime, the cookies and candies would start selling. But the people who wanted breakfast would buy the muffins. And the people who wanted lunch would buy the sandwiches. Even if they weren’t the best