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Shane nearly groaned at the sight of several tall, muscular men coming into his coffee shop. He didn’t know any of them, which was strange because most of his customers were regulars. The way that these men shuffled into the seats, laughing and talking loudly, likely meant trouble.
But their clothing were all made of fine fabric, the leather of their Oxfords shone. They had money. Not bad for business.
Plus, Shane had to maintain the welcoming reputation of his shop. He had no reason to drive them out, except that he was feeling grumpy so late in the day. Did he even have enough coffee and pastries to serve all of these very large men? They all looked like they could each devour an entire tray of sandwiches, cakes, jam, or whatever Shane would put in front of them.
Unwillingly, he walked toward their table by the window, where the afternoon sun brightened the room.
“Gentlemen, welcome. How may I help you?” Shane managed a smile.
What he would never expect was how his heart skipped a beat.
Because, sitting in the middle of the group, the most gorgeous man that Shane had ever seen—blond, impeccably dressed with a lace collar on his pale neck, an intriguing beauty mark on his cheek—was smiling back at him.
The mysterious stranger’s eyes were so, so blue, as pure as the sky outside the window. A gleam of light caressed his sharp features. He had swoon-worthy cheekbones and a very pointed Cupid’s bow. Immediately, Shane was imagining tracing his finger over those plump pink lips.
He was beautiful, and Shane couldn’t stop staring at him.
Thankfully, one of the men started talking. Shane forced himself to look for where that voice came from. He had a job to do, which was to serve his customers, not to ogle at them. Definitely not.
“Greetings, sir. Could we have some coffee for everyone and any pastries that you’d recommend? This is Lord Rozanov’s first visit to our city. We were riding horses nearby and thought to stop for a break in your fine establishment,” a man with dimples and dark blond curls said.
The beautiful stranger chuckled. When he spoke, his accent was thick and fascinating in a way that Shane wanted to listen to forever.
“Wyatt, you flatter me. Call me Ilya.”
Oh. Shane was frantically taking notes in his head.
So this stranger’s name was Lord Ilya Rozanov, not that this information would at all relate to Shane pouring coffee for them. But Shane couldn’t help himself. Even this name was beautiful.
Another man in an extremely tailored suit shook his head. His green eyes looked to Shane. “Please do not mind them, I do beg your pardon.”
Heart beating rapidly, Shane nodded.
He couldn’t help feeling the attention of someone on his back as he walked away.
Shane went into the kitchen and began assembling two trays of pastries and two pots of coffee; he assumed that these very tall men required a lot to eat and drink. Sidling up to him, Hayden spoke up:
“Are you all right? You look flustered.”
Shane and Hayden had practically grown up together, and Hayden now worked at Shane’s shop. He was more like a co-owner than a worker, both of them very satisfied with the arrangement. Shane couldn’t imagine handling this shop without Hayden.
“Is it a charming young lady?” Hayden came closer and whispered in a conspiratorial tone. Shane’s neck was turning red.
“No, Hay. Don’t be ridiculous. And fetch me the silverware if you need something to do,” Shane sputtered.
Hayden had married early and didn’t understand why Shane still hadn’t courted the daughter of a respectable family. Not that Shane never tried—but he couldn’t bring himself to go any further than an initial meeting with a girl’s family. A part of him was dimly aware that he was not attracted to women that way, no matter what kind of rouge was on their cheeks, what fashionable hats they wore, or what perfume they chose.
Maybe because he had been waiting for someone with blond curls and tall cheekbones his entire life, someone who was not a woman.
Which would be totally wrong and ridiculous, because a relationship between two men was unimaginable, not to mention dangerous. If anyone found out, Shane might find himself locked up, or worse…
Despite that, Shane couldn’t stop picturing Lord Rozanov’s face as he carefully spaced out the plates on the silver tray.
Shane’s hands nearly trembled as he and Hayden brought the trays out front. Hayden went to help another patron, leaving Shane to pour the coffee around the table for the seven men.
It was interesting how these men were of different ages. The youngest looking one couldn’t be much older than a teen, and he muttered his thanks, his baby face forming a stark contrast with the masculine features of the man next to him, who had dark curls and brown skin.
As all the men chatted, Shane gathered that they were all aristocrats who met vacationing and horseback-riding in Riviera. Although they had apparently just taken a stroll on their horses, their clothes were neat, and they smelled good.
Shane was impressed.
When Shane stood by the side of Lord Rozanov, he had to try really hard to steady his hand, because he just might pour the hot coffee all over the delicate beige suit hugging Lord Rozanov’s muscles.
Maybe it was Shane’s imagination, but Lord Rozanov was paying a lot of attention to Shane’s hands that were right in front of the Lord’s chest as Shane poured the coffee. Shane was glad that he always kept his nails trimmed.
The gaze was so heavy—in a way that made Shane question if Lord Rozanov was interested in more than the coffee in his porcelain cup.
“Please enjoy, my Lord,” Shane said in a low voice.
Not knowing why, he added, dropping his voice lower: “It is an honor to be of your service.”
Lord Rozanov hummed, looking up at Shane. Again, Shane’s breath was snatched from him.
“Thank you,” Lora Rozanov replied, his voice soft.
Then he put his hand on Shane’s before Shane got a chance to shift away. The touch was brief, but it was everything: tender and warm and full of a secret promise.
How did an actual Lord dare to touch another man that way out in public, much less in front of all of his friends, and in the middle of a crowded coffee house?
Scandalous. Shane sucked in a sharp breath.
He didn’t realize how he made it behind the counter and managed not to trip over his feet.
It was business as usual the next morning: Shane brewing a large quantity of coffee, Hayden helping the other workers with the baking of cakes, pastries, and bread, the dusting and sweeping, and the reorganizing of the books on their gigantic bookshelf.
What was highly unusual was the return of four customers late in the afternoon: Lord Rozanov, Wyatt, the man with green eyes who apologized on their group’s behalf yesterday, and a man with brown hair.
Once they sat down, Lord Rozanov seemed to search for Shane in the shop. He was bending over to put a book on a lower level of the bookshelf. When Shane look up, feeling the gaze, he immediately blushed.
It was impossible that Lord Rozanov returned… for him, right? Shane smoothed out the front of his hair, in a vain attempt to calm down his heart rate.
At any event, he had a job to do and a coffee shop to run, so he walked to these four men.
“Welcome back,” Shane smiled, trying hard not to stare at Lord Rozanov right away. “How may I serve you today?”
“Thank you, sir,” Wyatt answered. Shane was proud of himself for remembering his name. “Coffee for everyone, please. Any pastries you preferred from yesterday, Troy?”
The brown-haired man, or Troy, answered, “They all tasted great.”
Shane noticed how Troy was sitting really close to the man with green eyes. Their shoulders were basically touching when there was plenty of room on both sides of their chairs. Shane’s shop might not be very fancy and large, but he made sure to arrange the chairs in a comfortable fashion. Neither Lord Rozanov nor Wyatt seemed to mind. Interesting.
Lord Rozanov didn’t say anything, but he was observing Shane, who wasn’t wearing a suit jacket like these four very distinguished men. He always chose utility over a pristine appearance, and none of his customers cared. At this moment, however, Shane was suddenly self-conscious about his rolled-up sleeves, his tie that was just a little loose, and his old trousers that were not as tailored as these men’s.
He retreated to the kitchen and started preparing their order.
“Need any help?” Hayden asked after bringing over some plates.
Shane shook his head. What he needed was to figure out his feelings about Lord Rozanov—not that it mattered or that it was at all reasonable, Shane already knew that much.
Like yesterday, it just so happened that Lord Rozanov was the last person that Shane was pouring coffee for. He couldn’t look, but he could swear that the Lord’s eyes were raking over the back of his hands and pausing meaningfully at his wrists.
“It is a pleasure, my Lord.” Again, Shane spoke without thinking. Then he was blushing and feeling so stupid.
Maybe he was having some serious trouble with his mouth in front of this handsome man.
The corner of Lord Rozanov’s lips curled up into a smile.
He reached out his hand…
And put it on top of Shane’s, with more pressure than yesterday. Shane’s knees were going weak at the touch.
“Is beautiful shop. The pleasure is all mine,” said Lord Rozanov.
Swallowing, Shane nodded, not daring to say another word or look at the reaction of the other three aristocrats.
He wondered why they returned to his humble coffee shop when there were clearly more suitable locales for these young men to frequent. And, surely, Lord Rozanov could go see some sights in the city instead of drinking the same coffee in Shane’s small shop.
Shane stepped away to tend to other customers. When Shane glanced at Lord Rozanov for what was probably the tenth time over the chairs and tables, those blue eyes returned his gaze. And Lord Rozanov smiled a seductive smile.
It was brief, but Shane caught it all the same. It was definitely there. A smile that was only meant for him.
After about an hour, the other three men left. Wyatt patted Lord Rozanov on the back. Troy leaned down to whisper something, earning a joking punch from Lord Rozanov to his arm. The man with green eyes squeezed Lord Rozanov’s shoulder.
Shane’s heart was thundering at the suspicious behavior. Why didn’t Lord Rozanov leave? Could it be related to Shane? He couldn’t bring himself to think any further. Because it was stupid, so stupid, to think that it meant anything. Maybe his friends had a separate social engagement, another Lord or Baron to pay a visit to.
Soon, the shop was closing; every other patron had left. But the muscular figure of Lord Rozanov stayed glued to his seat. He tapped his long finger absentmindedly on the saucer, looking out to the twilight sky.
Carefully, Shane stepped up to him.
“My Lord, I do apologize, but we are closing soon,” Shane said.
“There is a place to talk?” Lord Rozanov’s full attention was on him in a second.
“What?” Shane was confused, and he started blushing. Talk? About what?
Lord Rozanov raised his dark blond eyebrows.
“Um, you would like to talk? Well, there is the alley. It’s quiet,” Shane offered.
Shane didn’t know why he said it. Surely, a Lord would not want to step foot into the back alley of a coffee shop.
However, standing up immediately, Lord Rozanov gestured for Shane to lead the way. It was certainly interesting that Lord Rozanov was willing to follow Shane to somewhere possibly suspicious. He didn’t even blink at the mention of an alley.
All right…? What could an aristocratic man dressed in a tailored dark suit want to talk to Shane about?
Shane’s heart was in his throat when they stepped out through a door on the side of the shop. The alley was quiet, but passersby on the street might still see them.
“My Lord—”
“Ilya. It’s just Ilya.”
Shane blinked. He didn’t think it was appropriate for him, a commoner, to call the Lord by his given name.
Then, again, nothing about this was appropriate. Two men alone in a dark alley to… talk…? Nobody would believe them when Shane was locked up for morality crimes.
“Okay. Ilya,” Shane said. It was his first time saying this name out loud since yesterday, and Shane really liked how it rolled off his tongue.
Ilya smiled. It was a little crooked and so very charming.
And Shane didn’t know how it happened, but he was already standing with his back flush against the wall, Ilya in front of him.
This close, looking into Ilya’s blue eyes and seeing each strand of his blond eyelashes, Shane discovered that the two of them had basically the same height.
“Your name is…” Ilya said, a little stiffly.
“It’s… Shane Hollander.” Shane blushed.
It was weird how a Lord wanted to know his name. This situation that he found himself in, though, was already incredibly weird.
“Is there something wrong with the coffee?” Shane blurted out. His stomach was twisting into a knot.
It was a stupid question, but it was the best question Shane could think of at the moment. His mind was going hopelessly blank.
Undeniably, he was attracted to Ilya, but he couldn’t very well say those words out loud to a member of the nobility without risking basically his life. Plus, Shane wouldn’t know how to say those words.
“Coffee?” Ilya repeated, raising his eyebrows. “No, is perfect coffee. I loved it. Is why I came back.”
“That’s… good to hear.” Shane let out a shaky breath.
“Well, is only one of the reasons I came back today,” continued Ilya.
Shane’s heart was beating so fast at that. “Okay…?” he said in a small voice.
“You.” Ilya leaned closer and whispered. “I wanted to see you again.”
Shane couldn’t move at all. He stared into those mischievous blue eyes, feeling shock and panic and relief course through his body.
And Ilya was reaching up and cupping his hand on Shane’s cheek. Shane couldn’t believe what he had heard or what Ilya was doing to him. Shane wanted Ilya’s hand to stay, but he was scared. If anyone saw… they’d be in danger.
His face was flushed, especially where Ilya was touching him.
“Ilya…” Shane whispered.
“I want to know if you want to make coffee for me,” Ilya murmured, his thumb drawing a slow line under Shane’s lower lip.
“I’m not sure if I follow. I mean, here, I brew coffee and pour it for—” Shane said in a weak voice. He was dazed by the touch.
The longer Ilya’s hand was on him, the more dangerous it was, but Shane couldn’t move.
Ilya shook his head. “No. I am on this trip to buy estate near here. I just signed this morning. I will move here, closer to my friends. And I want you in my home.”
This proposition was so ridiculous that Shane chuckled, even though Ilya’s eyes were sharp and serious, his hand exploring Shane’s jawline and his clean-shaven face.
“You want me to brew coffee for you, on your estate, my Lord? You must already have servants for that,” Shane said.
Ilya’s suit was so elaborate that he definitely had the help of his valet to put on each piece. A man this rich shouldn’t need another staff just to make him a cup of coffee every day.
“Is not what I mean,” Ilya said quietly. “I want to live with you. Have you as companion.”
Shane’s mouth dropped open in an unflattering way. Ilya didn’t think so, however, because his thumb moved up to touch Shane properly on the lower lip. The pad of his thumb was so smooth, so soft. Shane had to bite back a moan.
“My Lord, you don’t even know if I am married or if I am… like that,” Shane protested weakly, his hands gripping the brick wall behind him.
Ilya chuckled, his thumb now at the corner of Shane’s lips. “Shane Hollander, you are. No lying. And I asked around. You are not married.”
Shane wanted to tell him off, but his flushed face and blown pupils already did all the talking. His mouth was also still open, and he was willingly let Ilya touch the outline of his lips.
There was no denying that Ilya was right.
And Shane didn’t know what to think about Ilya looking into him, checking out his background.
Leaning closer, his lips merely an inch from Shane’s, Ilya whispered again: “Because you have not punched me yet. Another man would have. You stand here and let me touch you. You want more, yes?”
Then Ilya glanced up quickly at Shane’s wide-open eyes before pressing his lips on Shane’s.
Ilya’s pink lips were as soft as they looked, and there was a masculine, pleasant scent of tobacco that Shane could not get enough of.
Before he knew it, he was returning the kiss, trailing his fingers in those golden curls. Ilya didn’t mind. And Ilya’s ridiculous suggestion that Shane move in with him and personally brew him coffee no longer seemed that unappealing.
If Shane could get kisses like these every single day… well, brewing coffee was no problem. He was already doing that anyway. The kisses would only be a sweet cherry on top.
Then, Ilya added his hands to touch Shane on the face. Those soft, tender caresses… completely sealed the deal.
“We’ll be safe on my estate, Shane,” Ilya murmured against his lips. His voice was soothing and deep. “My friends all know what I’m like. No one else will know. You saw today how Harris and Troy are together.”
Oh, so that was why they sat so close to each other… Shane realized.
Ilya was kissing him again. Shane kissed him back.
“So… is your answer yes?” Ilya leaned back to look at him, one hand on Shane’s waist.
Shane chuckled. It was happening too fast, like a fairy tale. Who would ask about moving in together the day after they met?
On the other hand, it meant that Ilya was serious about him, about providing him with safety. Ilya was absolutely right that they needed all the privacy in the world to fall in love with each other properly.
“Hayden, who’s my friend, I mean, will never believe me when I tell him he needs to look after the shop now. I hope he’ll manage. I’ll probably come help him from time to time,” Shane sighed.
“Hayden?” Ilya repeated. “Is silly name.”
When Shane threw him a look, Ilya put up his hands and laughed. Then he kissed Shane again.
Even though Shane practically knew nothing about Ilya, deep in his heart, Shane was sure that he could trust him.
Because those pure blue eyes were so precious, and they were smiling at him with so much charm that Shane stopped thinking.
“Would you like to visit the estate? My carriage is waiting,” Ilya said.
“Um, yes…? Yes, I do. I need to close down the shop first, though.”
“Yes, great, okay.” Ilya nodded, his eyes glinted, his cheeks slightly flushed at Shane agreeing to visit his new home, their new home. “I wait inside with you.”
He kissed the corner of Shane’s lips, squeezed his palm, and followed him inside.
When Shane looked over his shoulder with a smile, Ilya smiled back.
The setting sun lit up Ilya’s golden curls, and Shane’s heart fluttered at knowing that he’d get to see the impossibly beautiful Ilya every day, for the rest of their lives.