Honey, Honey by Rebel Carter

Chapter One

LAW

I turned, adjusting the cuff of my jacket and frowned up at the sky. It was bleak, the sun hiding behind a low blanket of clouds that gave the early morning the feel of twilight rather than a new day.

It was cold. I hated the cold.

Summer couldn’t get here fast enough, but this was bearable for the simple fact that I knew it wouldn’t last. I turned up the collar of my jacket and kept walking, hands in my pockets and a frown on my face. I was practically stomping down the sidewalk to get my coffee and when I saw a look that could only be described as scared shitless on the face of a passing woman who did her best to give me a wide berth.

My steps slowed and I turned to glance at myself in the shiny glass of the building to my left.

“Shit,” I whispered, seeing the angry look on my face.

I was narrow eyed and glaring, my lips pulled into a thin line that was bordering on a sneer. With my hands stuffed into my pockets and my shoulders up by my ears, I was...formidable. I was a big man, and even if I was minding my own damn business while being pissed at the weather, it was good to keep a handle on what other people saw when they looked at me. The hours I was keeping, near round the clock for the past few weeks, didn’t help. I was eating like shit, not sleeping, and way too caffeinated for my own good. I looked haggard as fuck, with shadows under my eyes. My cheekbones were too sharp from lack of rest and food, and I knew I had the look of a man that was one hop, skip and jump away from punching someone. Twenty two days of constant work and high profile dealings that had far too much sway over the future of my company did that to a man. That woman had probably thought I was going to mug her or some shit.

I sighed, breathing in deep, and pinched the bridge of my nose as I forced myself to suck in another deep breath. “This is not good. Get a grip. Relax.”

I’d already been relegated to decaf by my assistant for being, “a total and complete dickhead.” I couldn’t even tell Addie she was wrong, because I had turned into an ass this month. The shittiest part of it was that I’d done it to myself when I had hijacked her scheduling program and over booked myself like a stupid fuck.

And since I’d done it on my own, that meant Addie got to tell me things like I was “a total and complete asshole,” and ban me from having anything with caffeine in it in the office. I was going to have to get her a nice gift, or reservations at a nice restaurant she would never think to go to, when all of this was over.

“One more week,” I muttered. “One more week and this is over, and then I am never being this stupid again.” I was lying, of course. I would do it again, and again, and again for as long as I was able to. Work was the only thing I had. Work I understood. Work I knew. Work was the constant in my life that made sense to me.

Law Acquisitions was at the top of its game because I was relentless. I had always been that way, but now I was on the up-and-up. I didn’t have to watch my back when I went anywhere and I didn’t shower in water so hot that my skin was left raw in an attempt to burn away the memory of what I’d been paid to do by my employer. I didn’t answer to the highest bidder in the market for violence anymore.

I called the shots now, and that was a kind of power that I would never give up. I answered to no one and I liked it that way. But at the same time it meant I didn’t have anyone. Not anyone close to me that would be waiting on me, or wondering where I was after another late night at the office. It might be sad if I gave a shit about any of that. I took companionship when I needed it. There never was a shortage of partners looking to spend time with me when I came up for air.

That was a lot less frequent these days, though. The last time had been at the start of this, nearly a month ago and my palms itched remembering just how fucking sweet that weekend had been.

I grimaced and set off again towards my destination. If Addie had banned me from getting caffeine at the office I was going to have to do it on my own. Hudson Yards was a pot of things, up and coming playground to the rich, a little slice of New York that toed the line–eco and green living with a hint of Bohemian. Albeit carefully curated bohemian, while catering to the rich tastes of the upper crust. Everything was luxe or created to be one of a kind. The kind of place that never let you forget it was “artisan”, if artisan consisted of fuckwads of cash, mostly gleaming building fronts and immaculate windows I wasn't sure had ever seen a speck of dirt since being installed.

Hudson Yards was not accustomed to a man looking as irritated as me storming down the street. You don’t look irritated, you look murderous, I reminded myself. I clenched my jaw, pushing the thought away, because I did look like I might snap. I could almost hear Addie sighing at me from behind her desk, where she no doubt would be regarding me with an annoyed look while she tapped her ballpoint on the fat appointment book she kept my schedule in.

“Suck it up. Smile,” I ordered myself. If I was going to be moving in this world, one of money and squeaky clean windows, then I needed to at least try and not attract unnecessary attention walking down the damn street for coffee.

Otherwise what had been the point of all the shit I’d done to get here?

I wasn’t a thug. I was a businessman. Corporate head of a multi-billion dollar operation, and I only stood out when I chose to. Now was not one of those times.

I shrugged and rolled my shoulders, trying to release some of the tension there. I needed to relax. After another few minutes of walking, I was feeling a little clearer and by the time I was pushing open the door of A Different Brew, I felt more settled.

That was until I clocked the curvy brunette behind the counter.

“Fuck,” I huffed out, freezing in the doorway when she flashed a bright smile my way.

“Good morning, sir. How are you?” Her voice was like summer and sunshine, and whatever else made you go hot on a good day. It was sweet, but real. She wasn’t faking the smile, or the chipper tone I heard.

I didn’t answer her, just continued to stand there staring at her like a dumb fuck with one hand on the door and the other in my pocket to stop me from putting it up on the doorframe to steady myself. A move like that would clue the smiling woman in that she’d had an effect on me.

I didn’t like anyone to know that type of shit.

I was cool in boardrooms, I was cool waiting for a big mouthed guy who’d said one too many things while I loaded my forty-five. I didn’t get flustered like a school boy from a smile and a ‘good morning’–no matter how beautiful the woman was.

“Sir?” She tipped her head to the side, looking at me with a raised eyebrow. My dick twitched at that one word. Sir. God, I needed a day off if a good morning and one word was getting me hard.

“I, ah.” My voice came out in a splutter and my brow furrowed at my stumble. I did not stutter. Not for any woman. The small coffee shop was warm and inviting, just like the woman’s smile, but I didn’t move forward and didn't step into the shop until someone behind me let out a delicate ‘ahem’ and I was forced to move.

“Morning there.”

I glanced to the left to see a bright eyed blonde smiling up at me. I gave a grunt of acknowledgement and then turned my attention back to the counter in front of me. It was all shiny white quartz that sparkled in a ray of sunshine that managed to get through the morning gloom. I turned my neck seeing the sun had broken through the low hanging clouds. It would be beautiful today given a little time.

I looked at the barista who was still smiling my way, and she reached up tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear. She was beautiful too.

“I couldn’t help but notice you work in the area.” The woman at my side said, and I jumped in surprise. She’d vanished from my thoughts the second my eyes had hit the barista, but there she was, still looking up at me expectantly. “Do you come here often?”

It was just a question, but I prickled. I knew what she was playing at with her too interested look. I didn’t have time for this. Even if I did, this blonde couldn’t handle what I was into.

“Ah—“

“Can I take your order, sir?” Beautiful Barista asked in her warm sunshine voice that made me want to bolt. My eyes darted back to her and I saw she was leaning forward, an innocent smile on her face, her hands on the counter. Her arms framing her tits and pushing them together for just enough cleavage that I had to fight to keep my eyes on her face.

Sir.

Every time she said it my brain shorted out. And her teasing with her tits. Fuck. I scrubbed a hand over my face and gave myself a mental kick. How the hell was a woman knocking me on my ass with a simple ‘sir’? She made me want to reach out and grab her, bend over the counter and paddle her ass and tell her that her innocent smile wasn’t fooling anyone.

She bit her lip and I stepped forward. Beautiful Barista was playing with me.

I opened my mouth to order, but the blonde I was trying to forget stepped with me and scoffed.

“Laying it on thick, aren’t you?” She asked, narrowing her eyes at Beautiful Barista. Both the barista and I looked at her in surprise. I knew then she hadn’t seen the blonde, she’d only seen me, which suited me fine. I liked that she hadn’t noticed anyone else.

“Sorry?” She inclined her head, blinking in surprise at the blonde, who tossed her hair over shoulder and flicked a finger at her.

“If you pushed them up any more they would be on the counter,” she said.

Beautiful Barista’s eyes widened and she blushed. Not the kind that I would want to see on her pretty face. She was embarrassed. She looked away, a deep red flush spreading up from her throat and across her cheeks. It made her even prettier, made me think of what that color would look like if I had her laying across my lap, her ass in the air while she sobbed, my hand turning her flesh red. If she was mine, I’d have her like that, ass tinged pink and raw, a reminder that she wouldn’t forget, making sure she knew she belonged to me. She would want it like that. The security my hand brought, wrapping itself around her until nothing bothered her. Because she knew her Daddy would be there. She would be untouchable even if she was at work serving coffee to assholes who thought they could talk to her anyway they wanted.

Daddy. What the fuck was I thinking?

“I’m sorry. I don’t kn—“ Beautiful Barista began, but her voice wasn’t like sunshine anymore. There was a waver and the warmth that had drawn me in was gone. I gritted my teeth and turned to look at the blonde who was drawing herself up to her full height, which was laughable. She barely cleared my shoulder and that was in heels. But the way she was glowering at the goddess in front of me made her out to be 6 feet tall.

“Don’t tell me you don’t know what you’re doing. It’s pretty obvious by the way you’re practically flashing him, that you do. Is this the kind of trash this shop hires?” She asked, though she was speaking to no one. I knew this was meant to be one of those rhetorical fucking moments by the way she turned and looked around the coffee shop and looked towards the other patrons.

She turned then and gazed up at me with a sympathetic simper. “You don’t deserve this. A man like you.”

My brows shot up at her words. A man like me? What the fuck did that have to do with anything? What did she even begin to think she knew about a man like me?

Whatever it was, I didn’t like it.

“Listen, lady,” I began but she was waving her hand at someone behind me.

“Gus! Please come here. There’s a matter you need to attend to.”

If I wasn’t so damn annoyed I would have laughed at her imperious tone. A matter he needed to attend to? We were in the middle of a coffee shop, not some ballroom scene from one of those tv specials they aired nonstop around the holidays.

“Be right there!”

I heard a man’s voice behind me and Beautiful Barista’s eyes widened. She bit her bottom lip and took a step back, her arms coming up across her chest and I felt my chest go tight. This wasn’t simple embarrassment, even if the entire shop, small as it may be, was watching her. She was worried. I turned my head to look at the man she had been watching.

I had to do something.

“What seems to be the matter?” The man was in his fifties and was dressed casually enough. Salt and pepper hair and a mustache that made him look like a goofy uncle, but he was standing ramrod straight while the blonde rattled off her grievances.

“That barista is practically flashing this man,” the blonde said, swinging a hand from Beautiful Barista to me. “He doesn’t deserve that. This man works at Law Acquisitions,” she told him as if she were anyone to me.

I raised an eyebrow at her words. How did she know that?

“Honey, what’s going on?” He asked looking her way, and I almost groaned at the sound of her fucking name. It would be something sweet. Honey. For crying out loud.

The blonde scoffed. “Honey? What the hell kind of name is that? A stage name?” She sneered.

Honey flushed again and I got angry. “I’m sorry,” she began, but I was done with this morning scene. I hadn’t even had a cup of coffee and not one, but two women were making my morning a nightmare.

The blonde for being an asshole. Honey for making me want things I shouldn’t want. And the blonde bitch was attracting attention. The something I had thought about doing needed to be done–and I had to do it now.

“It’s the name of my fiancée,” I ground out. The lie came too naturally, but I wasn’t going to think about that. Right now, I was making things right.

Gus blinked in surprise. “Ah, what?”

The blonde spluttered. “Your what?”

“My fiancée. My girl,” I said, taking a step away from them until I was standing in front of Honey, shielding her from the pair of them. My hands went to my hips and I leveled a hard stare their way. “I came here to kiss her good morning and grab a cup of joe since she didn’t make it for me this morning, and you,” I jerked my chin at the blonde who was now staring at me with an open mouth, ”started yelling at my girl for smiling at me. Isn’t that right, Honey?” I asked, still watching the couple in front of me.

She swallowed hard, dark eyes darting from me to the idiot blonde and her boss. “Uh, I—“

“Honey,” I said, a note of warning in my voice indicating that she needed to get on the same page as me, and fast. “Isn’t that right?”

Another woman with flaming red hair leaned out from behind the espresso machine and I barely had time to register the gleeful look on her face, or the barely restrained squeal she let out, before Honey was answering me.

“Yes! Yes, I mean, I was just–yes, sir,” she blurted out and I had to clench my hands into fists, while she added a feeble, “Baby, yes.”

I didn’t like that as much as sir, but what were you gonna do in a situation like this? Beggars couldn’t be choosers, after all.

“I don’t appreciate my girl being yelled at,” I told Gus. “She’s working hard for you, it’s not right. She needs to be protected from this kind of shit while she’s working.”

He shook his head. “No, I’m sorry.” He leaned to the side to speak to Honey, and I had to fight to not lean with him to keep her hidden from view. “I’m sorry, Honey.”

“That’s okay, Gus.”

I looked at the blonde now who was fast realizing she had no power here. Not anymore. “And I don’t just work at Law Acquisitions. I own the damn thing.”

She gasped. “I didn’t—“

“Get some manners. Don’t treat service workers like they owe you something just because you’re on this side of the counter,” I growled.

We all looked at each other for a beat before Gus cleared his throat and gestured towards the door. “I think you should leave now,” he said to the blonde who looked like she was about to pass out.

“Leave? Why would you ask me to leave?” She wanted to know, but the murmur of answers from patrons around her answered her question before the owner could say a word.

“You're causing a scene.”

“Who yells at people like that?”

“She’s his fiancée! Can’t even say hello to him without a Karen telling on her.”

This was going to handle itself just fine. I sighed and rubbed my temples before I turned back to Honey and stepped up to the counter.

I jerked a thumb over my shoulder. “I’m really sorry about that.”

“You have nothing to be sorry for. You saved my ass.” She shook her head at me and held up her hands. She had nice hands. Long fingered, nails painted with a sweet pale blush that went with her tan. I looked away. I shouldn’t be noticing her hands.

“What can I get you?”

“Quad americano, black, please.”

“Of course. It’s on me,” she rushed to tell me, but I stopped her with a shake of my head.

“What kind of fiancé would I be if I let you do that?”

She grinned, the light I had seen earlier returning to them. “What kind of fiancée would I be if I didn’t pay for it, after you just rescued me?” Her eyes focused behind me and she turned her head, hiding a giggle in her hand. I could hear the blonde being hustled out of the coffee shop by Gus and the outright disapproval of the other customers.

“You don’t even know what you just did,” she said, reaching out and putting her hand on mine. It was just a brush of her fingers but it made my blood sing. Seeing her fingers resting on the back of my hand, the pink of her nails contrasting with the ink on my skin made my head swim. It looked fucking perfect. I jerked my hand away from hers and looked away when I saw the hurt in her beautiful eyes. I couldn’t have her touching me. Couldn’t have that side of me waking up and wanting her more than I already did.

The redhead joined us then and she beamed in my direction. “You didn’t say you had a fiancé. What the hell, Honey bun?”

A near shriek sounded behind me, but I didn’t bother looking. I knew it was the blonde trying to save face. “He owns it? A man like that with her doesn’t make any sense!” She was insisting to someone, probably that Gus guy, maybe just anyone in earshot. Either way I ignored her.

“Don’t listen to her,” I advised Honey when I saw her flinch at the bullshit the blonde was spewing on her way out. “She’s just trying to look less shitty.”

“You mean classist,” the redhead said with a nod towards the blonde. “She comes in here every day acting like she’s Marie Antoinette, and I for one always wanted to take her bleached head off, so thank you for that,” she said, nodding at me.

I grunted a reply that had the redhead giggling and skipping off to the espresso machine but not before she flicked a finger at Honey. “You have a lot to tell me about after this rush, Honey bun.”

“Sure,” Honey answered, voice weak. She looked back at me and took the card I was holding out to her. It was heavy and black, and she turned the metal over in her hands for a second before she looked at me. “She’s right, but thank you for what you did,” she said, swiping the card.

I frowned. “What the fuck do you mean she’s right?”

She looked startled at my question but answered me all the same. “A man like you wouldn’t be with someone like me.”

My throat tightened. I could see she believed that. Thought I wouldn’t want a woman like her. I shook my head at her. “Listen to me, a woman like you doesn’t want a man like me. Men like me are dirty.”

“Wha—“

“Men like me don’t deserve sweet.”

Her eyes dropped to my mouth for a beat before they met my stare. “I’m not sweet.” Her voice was husky, a touch too low to be proper. Christ. I loved the sound of her voice. I scoffed, reaching out to take the black card she still held. Our fingers brushed and I sucked in a breath at the slight slide of her skin against mine. She was soft. I knew if I kept touching her she'd be soft all over. I couldn’t touch her all over, not without losing control, but that didn’t stop me from brushing a calloused finger over her knuckles.

“You couldn’t be any more sweet if you tried, Honey,” I said, her name rolling off my tongue like I’d said it a million times.

Her eyes went soft and she bit her bottom lip. “Sir,” she began, and I groaned at the word. Her eyes went wide but it was too late. I closed my hand around her wrist and pulled her towards me. By now the entire morning crowd at A Different Brew were pretending they didn’t see us. Our coupledom having been established via a bitch fit, and none of them seemed ready to take me on in the pursuit of caffeine.

God how had she known to call me that?

“You shouldn’t go around calling just anybody Sir, little girl. You might have to answer for it,” I warned her, the words slipping out of me before I could stop.

She let out a soft exhale and then smiled at me, her eyes still soft on me. “I think I’d like answering to you.”

Fuck.

My fingers flexed on her wrist and I could feel the pull between us ratcheting up. I needed this woman. It didn’t matter what was going on around us, the blonde could be screaming her head off beside us and I wouldn’t have given a shit so long as Honey kept looking at me like she was.

I needed this woman to be sweet for me. Sweet and needy. Dark eyes soft on me while she screamed for me. I could see it plain as day, her dark curls spilling over her shoulder with her head thrown back, legs wrapped around me while I bounced her on my cock. She would feel good–no, better than that. She’d be perfect.

It would be perfect.

“Quad Americano, black, for Honey bun’s man!”

Honey jerked back and took her hand with her. My fingers tingled from where our skin had touched and I blinked and shook my head, coming back to myself.

“Do you think—“

“That's me. I gotta go,” I said, cutting off whatever it was she was about to say. A feat fueled by pure strength of will. I wanted to hear whatever it was she was about to say. I would listen to this woman all fucking day if I could.

She opened her mouth again and then nodded at me. “Have a good day, sir.”

I gave a jerky nod but was already moving before that blessed word fell from her perfect mouth. How could a soft ‘sir’ put me on my ass like this? I didn’t even know her, but I knew without a doubt that I needed her.

“Thanks,” I murmured, taking the cup from the redhead.

She winked at me. “You got it, boss man.”

I gave another grunt and kept moving. I shouldered through the crowd that was now falling back into motion, the earlier scene and my nearly pulling a barista over the counter and into my arms already old news, and finally fucking made it onto the sidewalk.

It was only then that I let my weak ass look back at Honey. She was already waiting on another customer, a smile curving her lips. I took a sip of my coffee and winced at the unforgiving temperature of the drink. I swallowed it down and kept watching her for another minute before she looked up at me.

Our eyes met and I felt the pull between us again. It didn’t matter that there was a counter, a crowd of people and a whole damn door between us. The pull was there, and I knew she felt it too. Which is why I turned on my heel and started walking.

Nothing good would come out of me tasting Honey.