Coffee and Ink: The Playground Series, #1

By Olivia Joy

Cary Lederman reads a lot more these days, ever since he discovered the Playground, a great LGBTQ bookstore with an intriguing young owner. He only ducked in to get out of the rain the first time, but now along with his new reading habit he has someone to watch. Or watch over.

Benjamin Harrison is starting over after tragedy changes his life in Texas and becomes too much to bear. In Boston, he pours his heart and soul into his bookstore and the sparkly, comfortable apartment above it. When his deal to rent part of his store as a coffee shop falls through, though, Benjamin isn't sure how much longer his dream will last.

Cary impulsively offers to fund and run the coffee shop because he knows he's found exactly what he desires, mainly in Benjamin. The boy is all jangled nerves and confusion, and Cary loves to be the kind of Daddy who gives his boy guidance as well as showering him with love. Will Cary be just the kind of man Benjamin needs and never knew how to ask for?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tygerseye Publishing, LLC
• Release date: Apr 18, 2024
• ISBN: 9781951011611

Olivia Joy

Olivia Joy is a pen name for two good friends and long-time authors who are writing sexy, kink-friendly gay romances. 

Book preview

Chapter 1

Up until a couple of months ago, Cary Lederman hadn’t read a book in years. He read plenty—online news, his email, and he’d been known to scroll through Twitter like it was his job, but not to read a whole book. And certainly not a real one, with actual pages and everything.

He looked at the new release shelf in front of him, tilting his head as if a slightly different view might help him make up his mind. Maybe new wasn’t what he needed today. He never knew what he was looking for before he came in; he’d just wander until something caught his eye.

He probably never would have set foot in this fabulous little queer bookstore if it hadn’t been for that crazy storm that had turned his umbrella inside out one afternoon. He’d ducked inside and browsed while he waited out the worst of the rain and ended up buying a book about queer servicemen in World War II. Why, he had no idea. He’d been bored for sure, maybe a little lonely if he was honest. He’d finally convinced himself it was because buying something was the right thing to do after wandering around for half an hour. It was a private little operation, after all, not a big chain bookstore, and he believed in supporting small businesses.

That was his story, and he was sticking to it.

He sighed and moved to another aisle, trying to figure out what he was in the mood to read next. Picking a book was like picking something out on a restaurant menu. He had to have a taste for it.

—goddamn it, Harry. Don’t push me. I am trying hard to keep all my balls in the air. I’m tired. Someone behind the counter was working to keep his voice down, but he was doing a shit job.

That was the owner. That much he knew. He’d be lying if he said that the books were the only reason he spent so much time browsing. The owner was a nice bit of eye candy. He seemed like a good guy too. Cary had done a fair amount of observing, but he still hadn’t figured out the man’s name yet. He was working up to it.

Slowly.

Ha been for the last month or so.

The lean man with the chestnut hair and a ring in his lip slammed the phone down and sighed. Damn.

Cary wondered who Harry was. Boyfriend? Business partner? Reflexively, he headed for the counter, not sure yet what he was going to say. Something about this moment had his name all over it. Pretty young man was tired. Pretty young man was overwhelmed. This was something Cary understood in his bones. What did that phone ever do to you?

As pickup lines went, that was a poor one, but he gave himself high marks for timing.

Brought me bad news, evil thing. Damn, those eyes were like chips of ice.

Well, don’t answer it again. That’ll show the damn thing. He tried a smile. It felt awkward but he managed it. Screw Harry anyway.

Yes. You know it, man. Fuck him sideways with a chainsaw.

That’s the spirit. He was caught by those beautiful eyes and probably stared a little longer than was comfortable, but he wasn’t sorry. Uh. I’m… I’m Cary.

Hey, man. I’m Benjamin. I own this crazy-assed place they call the Playground. Welcome.

I know. I mean—thank you. I’ve been in a couple of times before. A couple times a week. He wasn’t sure if he was glad he’d stayed under the radar or not. You have a great place here. It’s…cozy. Warm.

Friendly, open-minded, all the right words. God, that smile just shone. It made him feel bold.

I’m getting the same vibe from the owner.

Benjamin chuckled softly. Unless you’re Harry today. He probably doesn’t agree.

Trouble in paradise? He was fishing; he didn’t want to overstep if Harry had gotten here before him.

Only in business, honey. Harry was supposed to open the coffee shop in the back, and he…well…pulled out.

Oh. Damn. Well, that’s a buzzkill. Shit, that sucked so hard he couldn’t even make a joke. You sound like you could use a drink. How about if I buy? That was bold, maybe, but he was really just being friendly now.

What time is it? Are we close to six?

He looked at his watch. Not as close as I’d like, but I still haven’t found a book so I can wait.

Then why not? I’d love to have a drink with you. Benjamin gave him a warm smile. What kind of book are you interested in? I’ll see if I can make some suggestions.

He liked that idea, since he’d been staring at shelves and coming up empty. Well, I’ve been reading a lot of nonfiction, but I think I’d kind of like something fun. Horror maybe. Or mystery.

I have a nice section of mystery, horror, and thrillers back here. Benjamin came around the counter and led him toward the back. I love this corner—it has my favorite chair, a window, and all the lurid book covers.

Lurid. He laughed, following Benjamin, telling himself it was okay to ogle the man’s ass since he’d accepted the drink invitation. Right on. That would be a change of pace.

Feel free to browse. I’m going to watch the register. Enjoy the chair.

Benjamin winked at him and headed off, and he saw the huge, overstuffed green chair, the little coffee table next to it.

From here he could see the spot for the coffee shop as well, the little cafe empty and bare, but with its own door, a little meeting place, plenty of counter space.

That was the thing now, right? A cafe inside a bookstore? That’s what the Barnes and Nobles of the world were doing anyway. It would go over much better here.

He pulled a couple of books off a shelf and sat in the green chair with a sigh. It was super comfortable, and the window was in just the right place so it was light but didn’t glare. Nice.

He kept looking over into that space where a coffee shop was meant to go. He couldn’t help it—it was strange to have a blank room with no shop there.

He put the books down and wandered over to check the room out. He could totally imagine it with glass walls that looked into the bookstore, some little tables with outlets for the plugged-in crowd. Jazz or blues playing. It was so real to him he was almost convinced he could smell the coffee.

There were high ledges around the window for stools, something to make the street traffic notice. Then people wouldn’t find it by mistake like he had; they’d get pulled right inside.

But what was he doing? He wasn’t going to make a snap decision to open a coffee shop. Even if he did have time on his hands. And money to burn. And drank five cups of coffee a day.

He headed back to his chair. Focus, Cary. You want the boy, not a job.

Although the job meant constant contact with the boy…

Maybe he could lure little Joey away from Starbucks. He was one hell of a barista. He picked up his book and sat down again, letting that thought, and others like it, swirl around in the back of his mind while he read to pass the half hour until he could take Benjamin out.

Soon the lights in the store dimmed, and Benjamin wandered over, hand on his shoulder. Did you find your next good read?

He blinked, looking up. I did. I found a lot of good things today.

You still want that drink? Those pretty eyes were glinting.

I do. He closed his book and stood stiffly. He’d been wrapped up in that book. How do you feel about pairing it with dinner?

That warm smile got positively sunny. I am free today, sir, so I’m more than happy with that plan. What are you interested in?

You, he said, boldly, not particularly worried about scaring the boy off now. Take me to your favorite place. I’m not picky.

Yeah? Excellent. There’s this tiny bistro three doors down—cozy and simple, but the food is magic and not tweezified, and the bartender understands cocktails. Benjamin rang up his book, giving him a discount.

Sounds perfect. You need me to wait outside while you lock up? He swiped his card and put the book in his backpack.

Yeah. I’ve got to set the alarms and all. It’ll take five. Benjamin locked the door behind him, took the cash tray somewhere, and set the alarm before joining him. Smart boy.

Cary waited to see which way Benjamin was headed and fell in alongside him. How long have you owned the store? Did you open it?

I’ve owned it for three years almost. My parents were killed in a house fire, and I didn’t want to stay where I was, so a good friend of mine was selling this place and I leapt. Benjamin said the words like he’d said them a thousand times, and he didn’t really understand them. Boston has been decent to me. The neighborhood is good, and I’m trying hard to keep the bookstore going.

I’m sorry about your parents. He offered Benjamin his arm.

Benjamin took it. Me too. I was living in Austin at the time, and it was—I mean, Mom had a stroke, they think, and was gone before her cigarette lit the curtains. My dad was sound asleep upstairs and died from smoke inhalation.

How awful. Jesus. He didn’t know what else to say, and he didn’t know Benjamin well enough to ask anything too personal.