Hot Coffee & a Messy Mane: Buck's Landing, #1

By Jules Monroe and Chloe Zane

His life went up in flames, but it turned into a miracle, not a nightmare.

Wren Jones' apartment went up in flames - literally. He lost everything but a few electronics and his cat, Stella. With the insurance payment for his loss, he quits his job and decides to follow his passion: coffeemaking. But, first things first, he has to find a new place to live.

He answers a housing ad for a roommate, and the guy he meets at the doorstep is none other than Dante, the firefighter who saved Wren's life. Needless to say, things are starting to look a bit more positive.

Dante's settled, mostly. He's got a five year, ten year, and fifteen year plan he doesn't intend to deviate from, and working two jobs doesn't afford him a lot of time for a relationship, anyway. However, when Wren moves into his life - and his apartment - he manages to find the time to not only help Wren open a coffee shop, but also explore the chemistry between them.

Not everything is smooth-sailing, though, with Wren's overbearing parents in the mix and Dante temper flaring up. Dante doesn't want to fall too deep, and Wren's not interested in getting burned, but can they work through their differences to get to their happily ever after?

Hot Coffee & A Messy Mane is a 50,000-word light, fluffy, and fun novel with one whimsical coffee-loving man and one brooding, "frugal" lion shifter. Each book in the Buck's Landing series contains intimate scenes fitting for the characters. While there are recurring characters and themes, these novels can be enjoyed in any order.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jules Monroe
• Release date: Mar 28, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201416904

Book preview

1

WREN

Wren Jones hit the ground with a thud. The fall knocked the wind out of him, agitating his already burning lungs as he turned his gaze to the old apartment building he had called home for the last six years of his life. It was currently engulfed in flames. They taunted him from open windows as he looked on, wide-eyed and speechless.

Hey. The firefighter who had recovered him from the building gripped his shoulder, shaking it and drawing Wren’s attention away from the blazing building. Is there anyone else in your apartment? Does anyone else need saving? His voice was firm, authoritative, and absent of panic. It would’ve been soothing if Wren could get a handle on things, but he was too shell-shocked.

My cat, Wren choked. My cat is still inside. Probably hiding. Can you-

Before he got another word out, the tanned, burly man in front of him had morphed into a lion with a thick dark mane, worldly eyes, and paws easily as big as his face.

Wren had heard about shifters. He knew they existed, but he had never witnessed a transformation. He’d never knowingly been in the company of one, either, and when the now-lion looked at him, his skin tingled.

The look was brief, then he turned his bulky body and ran back into the flames, tail thrashing wildly behind him.

Wren held his breath, but when the shifter disappeared, another man took his place and started asking questions. He answered them automatically.

Did he know anything about how the fire started? No.

Did he have renter’s insurance? Yes.

Did he have a place to stay tonight? Yes.

Did he have emergency contacts? Yes.

Had he contacted them? Excellent question. No.

The man took more of his information before stepping away as Wren pulled his cell phone out of the pocket of his lounge pants. He had swiped it from his bedside table along with his keys right before the lion shifter had thrown open the door to his place and hoisted him over his shoulder.

Everything happened so quickly, and Wren had no opportunity to object to the treatment.

He selected his mother’s number and put the cell phone to his ear, listening to the rhythmic ring until she answered.

We already heard, her shrill tone filled the receiver. We’re on the way right now.

Oh-okay. Who told you? Wren rubbed his temple.

"Well, we go to church with Mrs. Butterworth, and your father plays golf with her husband every Saturday. They sent us a message letting us know what was happening well before you did, so we were concerned."

I was asleep, Wren explained, voice lowering as he glanced back at the building.

He had built a nice little life for himself. He had a good job, contrary to his parents’ expectations, and while it wasn’t his dream job or anything, it was good enough. His good enough job allowed him to afford a fairly nice one-bedroom apartment with quality furniture for him and his four-legged companion. It allowed him to continue trying out gourmet coffee after gourmet coffee.

Coffee was his real passion. There was something about knowing how to brew those little beans at the exact right temperature and for the perfect amount of time. Each type of bean was different, and the exploration of a new brew was better than sex - or at least the sex he’d had.

His mother mumbled something, and then his father did the same.

Apparently, sleeping at night was now a problem, too.

He should’ve been up doing god-knows-what instead.

We’re pulling into your complex right now. Stay put, and we’ll meet up with you in a minute! Were you able to grab anything? Your laptop, cell phone, clothes?

I’m on my cell phone, Mom, Wren reminded her, softening his voice to mask his amusement. She wouldn’t have taken kindly to it. I didn’t have a chance to grab anything else, but it’s okay. I’m sure I can crash at a friend’s place for a night, and tomorrow I can deal with getting a new bank card and everything.

Tomorrow is Sunday, she informed him, clearly appalled at the idea of doing anything on the Lord’s day.

Okay, well then, I guess I’ll get money out and stay at the pay-by-hour hotel until Monday. Then I will deal with all of my accounts and information.

Now she gasped. Audibly. And the small victory was well worth it.

You can come stay with us. Your old room is available for as long as you need.

No thanks, Mom. You and Dad are enjoying your empty-nest lifestyle. Anyway, I thought you guys were here?

Anything to get off the subject of moving back home. Some things were never happening. Wren would never become a tea drinker, and he would never move back in with his parents.

Sure, they were nice and accepting of him in the general sense of acceptance, but he was an only child, which meant all of their dotings fell on him, along with all of their unspoken expectations and haunting disappointment.

We’re coming to find you now. Where are you?

By the fire truck, Wren responded and ended the call.

There were six fire trucks, so he had a few more precious moments to himself, and he intended to savor them, but his enjoyment was cut short as the lion emerged from the building with Wren’s cat scruffed in his mouth.

He left black pawprints in his wake, and the soot and debris from the fire had painted his tawny brown coat. He looked even bigger with the tiny cat in his mouth, curled up with her front paws tucked between her jack-rabbit back paws and her tail curled in a tight key.

Oh, fuck. Wren’s shoulders sagged as the animal approached, and he collapsed on the ground. Oh my god, thank you.

The lion dropped the shivering cat in Wren’s lap, then licked over the cat’s fur, leaving a massive cowlick in her soft fur while ceasing her shivering. Then he lifted his giant head and fixed his gaze on Wren.

Wren shivered, murmuring another thanks before directing his gaze downward. Someone, at some point, had told him holding direct contact with an animal could be perceived as a threat, and he definitely didn’t want a possibly four-hundred-pound cat considering him a threat.

When he looked away, the lion seemed pacified or at least bored, and he prowled around Wren, massive body shuddering and tail flicking as he moved.

There you are! You could’ve told us which fire truck, you know. Wren’s mother stalked across the parking lot, but Wren’s attention was distracted by the lion all over again.

Well, he wasn’t a lion anymore. He was a man again, and this time Wren had recovered enough to take a good look at him. And he did. Oh, he did. Lion-shifter’s tan skin glowed in the moonlight. He had worked up a nice sheen of sweat, and his corded muscles stood out in sharp relief as he toweled his bare skin off and spoke with another firefighter who wasn’t half as attractive. Disappointingly, pants covered his lower half, hiding the pot of gold his faint pleasure trail led to.

When the shifter’s skin was dry and his colleague walked away, he turned his attention back to Wren and quirked his lips into a little smile. He twisted his body forward, taunting Wren with his chiseled body, corded shoulders, and kind, hazel eyes.

His eyes were the best part. They were gentle, soft, watchful but not predatory, and they wrinkled at the corners when his lips quirked into a smile. Wren could drown in those eyes. Hell, he wanted to. He wanted to...

"Wren!" His mother called, patience leaving her voice.

What?

Have you given any more thought to where you’re going to sleep tonight?

Absolutely, Mom, I was thinking about taking Stella and camping out under the southbound interstate bridge. I’m pretty sure it’s empty this time of night.

She gave him an incredulous look and then cut her eyes to his father who had no better expression on his face. He was equally disturbed by the suggestion, but Wren knew he wouldn’t comment. For as much as his mother tried to assert her own amount of control over Wren’s life, his father did the opposite.

By his father’s opinion, children should be well out of the nest by Wren’s age, and to be fair, Wren was out of the nest. His mother was just steadily trying to coax him back in, and it wasn’t happening.

Be serious for one moment, will you?

Okay. I’m serious. It’s late on a Saturday night, and I’ve got some emergency cash in my car, so I can stay in a hotel tonight, call a friend tomorrow, and deal with getting everything sorted out Monday.

And what about a new place to rent? Have you considered what you’ll do?

Yeah, probably start looking for another place for me and Stella to stay.

His father clucked his tongue, and Wren didn’t need a translation for his displeasure. Wren should be looking to buy a house, not perpetually rent. Renting was throwing away money, after all.

Well, his mother rubbed his shoulders, you know you can always come home if you need to. If you want to save up some money for a bigger place or perhaps, you know, something else, your room is always available to you.

I know, I know. Anyway, I should probably actually get going. I’m beat. He jostled his shell-shocked cat in his arms and looked between his parents before digging his keys out of his pocket and dangling it in front of them.

When they let him pass, he approached his SUV, dumped his cat in the backseat, and closed the door again. He was going to leave, sure, but first he wanted to at least thank his and Stella’s savior.

The fire, though it had been tempered, still blazed in the building, and there were firefighters holding onto hoses and others rushing around, still rescuing people from the building, but the hazel-eyed shifter was nowhere to be found.

Wren looked up and down the fire trucks, around them, and even waited for thirty minutes as firemen came in and out of the building to no avail. He waited ten more minutes before giving up his search with sagging shoulders and jogging back to his vehicle. He climbed into the driver’s side and found a highway hotel within his budget.

After a long explanation to the front desk worker, Wren handed over his money in exchange for a room key and a firm warning not to let his cat destroy the room. With frantic agreement, Wren pocketed the keys and took himself and his cat up to the room.

All right Stella-bella, this is our home for the night. Tomorrow, we can discuss which of my friends you like the most, so we can crash at their place while I look for a new awesome apartment.

Stella meowed.

Erin? She’s a good choice. I bet she’d let me crash on her couch for the night.

Stella meowed again.

Oh shit! You’re right. I have to call work, too. Ugh, fuck. I’m pretty sure work’ll let me call out considering I have no clothes to wear to work, right?

The cat meowed for a third time, and Wren groaned, rubbing his hands down his face as the truth of the evening settled in him.

For all intents and purposes, he was officially homeless, and with no credit or debit cards, he was in a tight spot until Monday. Luckily, Monday was only one long day away.

2

DANTE

He folded his newspaper in half at the daily crossword puzzle as he tapped on the fire house’s old coffeemaker. It had the necessary ingredients to brew a cup, but it wasn’t making a sound. Dante was confident it had given up on life, which sucked because after the weekend he’d had, he needed a cup of coffee to wake himself up.

Hey, D, his best friend and fellow firefighter Zane strolled into the breakroom. What are you doing to that coffeemaker?

Nothing because it’s not working. Dante tapped it again before sighing, tucking his newspaper under his arm, and unplugging the device from the wall. Then he removed all of the detachable pieces, spreading them along the laminate counter.

"Well now you’re certainly doing something to it." Zane chuckled.

Yeah, I’m going to see if I can fix it.

Woh okay, Tiger, it’s only a hundred years old. We can all pitch in and buy a new one. Hell, I’ve been waiting for that old thing to kick it anyway. Who makes coffee with filters and ground powder anymore? You need to get one of those new ones with the pre-portioned cups. Way less messy, and everyone can stock their favorite flavor.

Yeah, but this one probably needs some cheap little part, and once I replace it, it won’t make sense to buy a new machine.

You do know you don’t have to fix it right? Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you have to.

I know I don’t have to, but I’m saying, if the part you need is only a couple bucks, it makes sense to buy the part rather than spend two hundred dollars on a whole new machine. Also, I’m not a tiger.

I know you’re not a tiger. Don’t be so literal, Zane snapped back, laughter in his tone. How about we get a shop vote, and if we all want to buy a new machine, we’ll split the cost, and we won’t even make you pay for your portion.

I can pay.

Yeah… Zane scratched the back of his head as he moved further inside the room, slumping into one of the fold-up chairs and stretching his arms over his head. Sorry about Saturday.

It’s no problem. How’s your sister and the baby?

They’re both doing great. They’re up with my parents right now. You know, recuperating and everything. Seriously, though, thanks for standing in. I heard Saturday was a pretty tough night.

Dante shrugged.

Heard you showed off a little bit. Zane nudged his shoulder.

I didn’t show off. I did what I had to do.

Saving someone’s cat, eh?

It’s what I had to do. Anyway, he ran a hand down his face, I don’t even much like coffee.

More reason for you to let the thing stay broken so we can buy a better one. Let it ‘lone, Man, and tell me about Saturday.

Dante sighed. Fine. He abandoned the disassembled coffeemaker and slumped into a chair next to Zane. Old apartment building burned down. I’m pretty confident we got everyone out, but it took forever to quell the flames. Most everyone lost what they had inside.

Hope they had insurance.

Yeah. Dante bit his bottom lip.

He wasn’t avoiding information, but it didn’t seem important to mention specifics about the guy he saved. It wasn’t important to mention the reason he saved the cat in the first place was because of a pair of big, mahogany-brown eyes he felt compelled to move mountains for.

Dante didn’t actually believe in love at first sight or the one, but he couldn’t deny the instant connection he had with this stranger. A bond had been formed, and when he sat him down, safe and away from the flames, he knew he would’ve done anything to ensure the other man was all right, and it had meant going back inside the building, against his better judgment, to save a cat.

Cats were notoriously hard to save when it