Crazy Love Read Free Page B

she’d set foot in town and been captivated by the abundance of bright flowers in pots along Main Street.
    With Dolores hanging onto her hand for fear she’d bolt she’d been dragged up this street, sullen and silent while her mom grinned at everyone like a newly crowned Miss California greeting fans.
    While mom had done the royal wave, Sierra had avoided eye contact and counted pots outside the shop-fronts, focusing on the thin stems and delicate petals to curb the rising panic with every step into town.
    She’d lost her dad, her hometown, her school, and her friends in the space of a week. Arriving in Love sucked.
    Fear had numbed her feet, anesthetized her heart and produced a healthy distrust of males that lingered to this day but Love had grown on her, had become a comfortable fit and every season the freesias bloomed she was reminded how far she’d come from that scared, lost little girl.
    She loved Main Street, its eclectic shops a draw for tourists and locals alike. She regularly shopped at the organic grocer, the toffee store and the coffee house, partial to the freshly ground beans from around the world.
    Tourists preferred the funky fashions in a string of tiny boutiques stocking everything from kaftans to love beads, loitered in the aromatherapist’s and spent a squillion on souvenirs in Amor’s Corner Shop.
    The town hadn’t lost its cozy charm despite the constant influx of rubberneckers and while there were regular complaints about the lack of restaurants and bars, she liked knowing everyone when she headed to Venus for a Margarita or a delish meal at the Love Shack.
    She reached the end of the block, turned left past the grade and high schools, crossed the town square and passed the town hall, following her nose and the scent of soul-reviving coffee as she pushed aside a curtain of hanging beads and stepped into Aphrodite, the best café this side of LA.
    While the faded linoleum floor, mismatched tables, wobbly chairs and gingham curtains weren’t as aesthetically pleasing as a shiny new Starbucks or Gloria Jeans, the coffees were to die for.
    “The usual, love?”
    Sierra shook her head at Cythera, the owner. While the forty-something woman with a penchant for dreadlocks and crystals denied it, everyone reckoned she’d changed her name to that of a Greek-Cyprian love goddess to fit in with the town’s theme.
    “I’m in the mood for something different, Cy. Something cold.”
    “Caffé Freddo?”
    “Is that your fancy iced coffee?”
    “With an extra dollop of homemade vanilla ice cream on top.”
    “Done.”
    Sierra glanced at her watch, remembering the stack of data matches she had to process before knocking off for the day. “Make that to go, please.”
    “Sure thing.”
    Cy fiddled with the espresso machine and the aroma of freshly ground coffee beans made Sierra salivate. “How’s the dating business these days?”
    “Busy.”
    “You remember my preferences?”
    Sierra bit back a grin. Cy regularly interrogated her on likely prospects when she came in for a caffeine fix but Sierra hadn’t yet come up with a six-five Nordic god who played the harp, debated philosophy and read tarot.
    “I’m keeping my eyes open,” Sierra said, sliding her money across the counter as Cy handed over a tall iced coffee. “Promise I’ll let you know when the man of your dreams pops up.”
    “Is that what you told my mother?”
    Sierra stiffened, the deep voice perilously close to her ear, her skin prickling exactly like it had earlier when City Boy had strutted into her office.
    Damn his soulful, all-night-dirty-talk timbre designed to melt. Like his looks weren’t enough.
    With Cy riveted to their every word, Sierra forced a sassy smile and turned to face him.
    “Sorry, can’t disclose that kind of information.”
    Rather than backing up and giving her room to move, Marc leaned closer, invading her personal space, reinforcing exactly how tall he was.
    “What can you