Lavender Shores allowing only one of each type of business was rather brilliant. It pretty much guaranteed each business’s success. If there was another option for coffee, I sure as fuck wouldn’t have stayed in Lavender Leaves for another moment. The place was sickeningly cute but kind of perfect for the area. I couldn’t have designed it much better, which was annoying. The coffee and pastries were spot-on as well. They’d give our little coffee shop a run for its money, which sounded like a fun time to me.

I’d nearly panicked when Andrew informed me of the “one kind of shop in the town” ordinance, and then the solution hit. Simple. Buy them out. Money wasn’t an object where Harvest Coffee, or my father, was concerned. If it had been any other real estate agent, I’d have gotten up and left their office with little more than a wave and gone straight to the source. But touring properties meant more time with Andrew.

After five seconds of talking to the owner of Lavender Leaves, an old queen who’d grown up here, apparently, he insisted there was no amount of money he’d take for his perfect little coffee shop. I’d dropped numbers on him that would’ve made any other business owner anywhere else head to the door and put up their Closed sign. This old guy just looked at me like I was crazy.

And thanks to the city ordinance, I had to sit in Lavender Leaves, rejected, if I wanted to have coffee and internet. I supposed I could’ve gone back to the bed-and-breakfast, but truth be told, I hoped the guy would look over at me every once in a while, see nothing but a big dollar sign, and cave.

I was getting close to giving up on that notion.

I used the time to read the entire memo on Lavender Shores. I’d already been certain, but every new line solidified this was a test. No, not a test. The test. This was it. I had no doubt. If I closed this deal, I’d finally be named the next in line to run the Harvest Corporation. Test or not, it was also the ultimate compliment. Starting this new offshoot of the business wasn’t anything my father would risk with someone he thought might not be able to pull it off. Which, normally, I’d fully embrace without reservation. However, Lavender Shores was a fortress. One I wasn’t entirely certain I could conquer. I didn’t remember the last time I’d had that sensation.

The place was a gold mine. Literally.

The town was founded in 1943; all the land around it had been made into Point Reyes National Seashore in 1962, confining the two-and-a-half miles of town to its borders; it could never get bigger. To top it off, it was surrounded by more than sixty-five thousand acres of some of the most beautiful protected land in California—forests, beaches, and cliffs, with tons of wildlife. It was heaven. Tourist heaven. And just like fucking Lavender Leaves, if you got a shop here, you were set. It was the perfect place for the flagship store of Daddy’s new coffee shop chain.

The further I read into the memo, the more doubt crept in that I could pull this off. The place was like a cult. They had rules on everything. All houses built or refurbished after the 1960s had to be constructed in Craftsman, Tudor, Usonian, or Victorian styles. Everything. Property values here were as high as they were in LA and San Francisco. Higher, actually. Provisions were made for original families and for newcomers with jobs in the helping fields, but other than that, if you planned on moving to Lavender Shores, you’d better be born with a silver spoon. Which, I’d been. But I wasn’t looking to move, just open the damn shop and be done with it. We’d stick whomever we moved here to run it as part owner on the title and get around the whole “you have to live here to work here” shit.

Cult. It was a damn cult.

A cult that I needed to crack if I was finally going to stop being my father’s bitch.

Hopefully, whatever property Andrew had up his sleeve would work. Maybe it would be even better than Lavender Leaves. If not, we’d have to pay a fortune to this coffee shop queen either to buy his place or simply to buy his retirement. He’d have a price; they always do.

If I didn’t know better, I’d swear Andrew was part of the test. If my father could force himself to incorporate a gay element, that is. Andrew seemed made specifically for my temptation. Everything, from his perfect body and face to his abilities in bed, was… well, perfect. No other word for that man. The kicker, though, the things that told me I was in trouble—that ridiculous blush he kept getting when he was nervous or aroused. The way his eyes darted away when things got too intense but then came back to me, looking hopeful and smitten. They nearly killed me.

He was the test. And I had even less hope I’d be able to pass the hurdles Andrew presented than any of the ridiculous laws and ordinances the city council could put in our way. Moreover, I wasn’t sure I really wanted to jump over Andrew’s hurdles. It would be so much more pleasurable to crash into him and get lost.

That notion made me want to stay here forever, and run away as quickly as possible. I hadn’t had feelings for another man outside of pre-sex butterflies for over a decade. I thought I’d burned out whatever receptors caused that to happen. Hadn’t even realized I needed to be on guard anymore.

When Andrew walked into Lavender Leaves a little before five, it only confirmed how truly fucked I was. He stepped in, glanced around, and then found me. And when he did? Those blue eyes lit up, as did his smile. Sure, maybe somewhere in there he was thinking of the sex we’d have later, but… maybe not. He actually seemed happy to see me, relieved I was waiting for him. Had to be in my mind. We didn’t know each other. He couldn’t feel that way. Not really.

Then I realized I was smiling and willing to bet my smile matched his.

Maybe he was truly happy to see me, because I, sure as fuck, liked seeing him.

“Why hello, Mr. Kelly! Can I get you your usual?”

Andrew looked away from me to address the old coffee queen, and I instantly wanted his gaze back on me. Just me.

Ridiculous.

“Nah, thanks, Pete. I’m just dropping in.”

Pete’s gaze darted at me then back to Andrew. “This pretty guy your fella?”

There was that blush, combined with that blue glance at me, then away, then back.

And there was that lurch in my heart. The one that wasn’t supposed to happen anymore.

He stuttered at Pete. “Oh, he’s, uh… Joel’s just a…”

“I am, Pete. I’m his fella.” Even if just for another night.

The expression that crossed Andrew’s face cut through me. Shock, confusion, embarrassment, and yep, happiness. Clear as day.

Pete wasn’t affected. “Well good, then. You tell your fella I’m not selling this place to anyone for anything. He’ll have to burn it down around me.”

Okay, I officially hated Pete.

“Uhm, I’ll do that.” Andrew gave an awkward nod, crossed the shop to take a seat by me, and then leaned in to whisper. I thought he’d comment about my claiming to be his fella, of all things—where the fuck had that come from? He didn’t. “You offered to buy Lavender Leaves?”

I hesitated just a moment, unsure how much to say. Things had already been close to out-and-out lying to him, which I’d never intended. Better to be as honest as I could. “Yeah. You’re the one who said there could be only one coffee shop. Is there a law against someone buying one that’s already here?”

He seemed to consider and then shook his head. “No. I don’t think so. That’s actually a good solution, one I hadn’t thought of. Though probably because I know Pete. Not a chance.”

“Yes, got that.” I relaxed a bit, glad that truth hadn’t caused a hiccup. “Your showing went okay?”

Andrew nodded. “Yeah. Better than my ones this morning.” He winked. “Turns out, lesbians are a lot less demanding than gay guys with coffee shop dreams.”

Without meaning to, I burst out laughing. “I suppose that’s true.”

His smile widened. “You’ve got a great laugh.”

I was fairly certain I blushed, which I didn’t think I was capable of. Nor could I remember the last time someone teased me or gave me a hard time. Everything was always, Yes, Mr. Rhodes. Sometimes, but not often, a No, Mr. Rhodes, but then always followed by an I’m sorry, Mr. Rhodes. Dear God, the man truly was killing me. “Say, I’ve been here for so long that my ass is going to fall off if I sit a minute longer. Did the other property come through?” I rushed ahead, surprising myself. “If it didn’t, no big deal. We could grab an early dinner or something.”

He beamed. “It did. There’s a little more paperwork with this one, but yeah, I can show it to you if you’re interested.” His teasing tone came back. “And either way, let’s get out of here. Your ass is way too fine to fall off.”

I laughed again. How strangely wonderful.

Andrew stood and waved toward the counter. “Thanks, Pete. Tell Ruby I hope she feels better.”

“Sure will and you tell the rest of the Kelly clan we’re sure looking forward to y’all’s Fourth of July party.”

“Pete, that’s more than a month away.”

He shrugged. “At my age, that feels like twenty minutes. Hell, I’d better start looking for my stars-and-stripes suspenders tonight.”

Another goodbye and we were out on the sidewalk. I leaned into Andrew, whispering though Pete couldn’t hear. “Ruby? You’re telling me that guy’s straight?”

He threw his head back and roared, and then gave a sideways glance through the coffee shop window before whispering back, “Dear God, no. Ruby is Pete’s bloodhound. She’s been at the vet since yesterday.”

“Oh.” That made more sense. Kinda. “You know when the coffee shop owner’s dog goes to the vet?”

“It’s a small town.” He shrugged, and then his expression brightened again. “Speaking of, the property I want to show you is about a mile away, and it feels like rain. You okay with going in my truck?”

“Sure, but it’s not one of the shops downtown?”

“Nope. You asking about other locations was what made me think about it. I think you’ll love it. Even if you don’t know what kind of shop you want there.”

Guilt bit at me, as I knew exactly what type of store I’d have there. I pushed it aside. I’d convince Pete to sell. It would all be on the up and up. Maybe, instead of money, he’d want a couple litters of bloodhound puppies. Who knew? Whatever the price, I’d find it.

The mile drive showed me more of Lavender Shores than I’d seen so far, and suddenly everything made sense. Every inch of the place was out of a fucking storybook. The houses weren’t mansions or anything—nothing like the neighborhood where I grew up in San Francisco— but they were lovely, classic, and stylish, with playful colors and cottage charm. They were surrounded by nearly mystical natural perfection. It was easy to see how someone might visit and get wrapped up in the allure of living here.

We didn’t speak as we drove, but our silence wasn’t uncomfortable, outside of the constant buzz of attraction, which was pleasant. We’d barely started to drive when I reached over and settled my hand over Andrew’s. We both glanced down—I was nearly as startled as he was—then looked at each other. Luckily, he was driving, so the moment had to pass quickly, but I left my hand on his, captivated by that simple contact. A little terrified as well. Okay, more than a little. But the feel of his skin, his warmth… it made the world slow down, made it quiet in a way I’d never experienced before.

When Andrew stopped and put the truck into park, I stared at that little house through the windshield, then at him. “Are you serious?”

“Oh.” Disappointment laced Andrew’s tone. “I thought you’d like it.”

I turned back to the house. “Are you kidding? It’s perfect. At least from the outside. I can tell it’s not huge, but after what you showed me this morning, I was expecting little more than two matchboxes nailed together.”

“Well, wait until you see inside.” He sounded excited again.

I got out of the truck and then paused. The little cottage really was ideal for the vision I had for the new coffee chain. Walls of rounded river rock, weathered logs trimming the door and windows, a wraparound porch, all topped with wooden shingles over the pitched roof and a chimney covered in matching river rock. Again, like stepping into Goldilocks’s cabin. Tall oaks, fir, and pine trees sheltered the north and east sides, but on the west, several hundred yards off, the land fell away to cliffs overlooking the ocean. I followed Andrew up the curved cobbled walkway and paused as he unlocked the door. My veins tingled with the awareness of… something. I wasn’t sure. Whatever it was caused me to hold my breath as the door opened. Then I was able to label it—destiny, another sensation I wasn’t familiar with, and one that made utterly no sense.

Andrew flipped on the lights.

I froze in the doorway for a heartbeat. The perfection continued inside. Flawless.

I had to get myself under control. This was about coffee. Ultimately, about billions of dollars. About legacy. Not about a house. My legacy wasn’t attached to this place, other than it being a stepping-stone to the top. I gave Andrew the side-eye. “You do remember I need commercial, right?”

He grinned. “Yeah. This is both. Ideal for someone to live where they work. Granted, it’s not been used that way for a few decades. It’s just been in the Bryant family, but back in the day, this was Lavender Shore’s bakery. There’s no commercial oven or anything like that. Like I said, it’s been just a house for a long time, but the commercial zoning sticks, since that was its original purpose.

It was the epitome of log cabins, with a huge open floor plan, though I figured the upstairs, where the bedrooms probably were, was less open. I wouldn’t have to change a thing. It was nearly exactly what I’d have chosen for the new Comfort Coffee brand. Hell, I was going to scrap the logo I’d commissioned and just use a sketch of this place.

It was out of a dream, though someone else’s dream. I did not dream of cabins, woods, and trees. Mine were of glass, steel, and gold. Not this. Yet… I managed to tear my gaze away from the cabin to look at Andrew. “I can’t believe no one lives here. Who would pass this up?”

“That’s what I’ve been saying for years.” Andrew gave a laugh, a different kind, and the first hint of hesitation I’d picked up from him in a while. “It belongs to my best friend, Gilbert Bryant. You met his mom Regina this morning.” He made a sweeping gesture at the house. “This was passed down to him from his grandparents. But he’s decided… he’s not the kind to live in Lavender Shores anymore, and he’s talked about selling this place for a long time. I called him to make sure it was something he really wanted to do. It is.”

I was almost giddy—talk about passing my father’s test with flying colors. The only hoop to jump through was stubborn fucking Pete. But something about Andrew’s tone bothered me, and it sapped some of my excitement over the place. “Are you okay? Were you hoping to buy this place for yourself or something?”

“No. I’d never considered that. Though it’s gorgeous.” He shrugged and then seemed to force a smile. “I’m okay. I always hoped Gilbert would move back. But if he’s not going to live here, then I’m glad it’s you.” His cheeks flared brighter than I’d seen yet, and he suddenly sounded panicked. “Not that I’m expecting anything from you. I just meant… Shit, sorry.”

All thoughts vanished other than a desire to erase his embarrassment and nervousness. Both things I was causing for no reason. I wanted to take them away from him. Two steps and I wrapped him in my arms. “It’s okay. I think we don’t quite know what to do with what we’re feeling.”

His arms circled around my back, and his jaw tucked into my neck. “You are too?”

I nodded but couldn’t speak. Realization after realization slammed into me. Not only was what I’d just said true, completely true, but I’d said it out loud. To a man I’d known less than a day. To a man I didn’t know at all. Maybe if we hadn’t touched, I could take those words back, but not with his head so close to my heart. Wanted or not, understood or not, there were feelings. Feelings that were way too sudden and way too illogical.

But none of that stopped it from being true. Or terrifying.

Then I realized what Andrew had said. If it wasn’t his friend living here, he was glad it would be me.

Andrew thought I was moving to Lavender Shores.

How I hadn’t seen that connection made me question my intelligence. Of course, he did.

Even as we’d discussed that issue in his office, I’d leaped to having an employee live here, owner in name only, not even playing with the idea that I’d leave San Francisco. The thought was so ludicrous it was laughable. It hadn’t even been a consideration. But of course, Andrew didn’t know that. How could he?

Oh, holy fuck.

I had no idea what was happening between us. I knew it couldn’t go anywhere. It didn’t have a chance. It was bad enough that the end goal was to turn Comfort Coffee into a chain, but now… I realized what he thought. What I’d unintentionally caused him to think.

I should tell him. Pull away from the embrace and tell him that it wouldn’t be me living here.

But then this would end. Whatever this was. He’d step out of my arms and not return. It would be over. And if all we had was one more day, I wanted that.

I pulled him closer, and he sighed.

Another thought—if I told him now, I wouldn’t have a chance at the property, and I’d completely fail on this deal. It would take years to get another opportunity at solidifying things with my father.

I pushed away that idea, that fear. Easily. Too easily. While Andrew was in my arms, the only thing that mattered was being able to spend every moment I could with him. I’d worry about my father later. I wouldn’t risk losing a second of my limited time with this man.

Andrew pulled away and I searched the little cottage for anything to distract. I didn’t want to have to talk about any of it or lie to him more than I already had, whether it had been intentional or not.

Then I found it. The sigh that escaped me was of both relief and wonder. “Holy shit.”

Andrew looked at my face and then followed my gaze to the large window on the other side of the house. Outside, the forest stopped abruptly in an arch—a sea of purple flowers over massive dark stone cliffs that dove into the ocean.

Pride filled his voice as he spoke. “That’s the palisade.”

I didn’t take my eyes off the view as we walked to the window, but my hand instinctively reached for Andrew’s. “Palisade? The cliffs?”

“Yeah. That’s what they’re called.” His voice lifted. “I’ll take you down there. It’s my favorite place in Lavender Shores. Well, technically, this house is on the edge of Lavender Shores. Everything else is Point Reyes National Seashore, but still, it’s part of home to me.”

It looked like a dream. The late afternoon sun hung low, changing to the yolky yellow of early sunset. A mist formed over the ocean, and the purple flowers carpeted the cliffs.

Andrew stood at the window, and I took my place at his back, wrapping my arms around him once more, captured by the magic of the view. More so by the magic of holding him in my arms. How was I supposed to let him go?

The mass of purple flowers rippled in the slight breeze. “Oh.” My words were barely more than a breath, and I laughed at my own slowness. “Lavender. That’s lavender.”

He nodded, the motion causing his dark hair to rub against my cheek. I gave in to the temptation of breathing in his clean scent.

No wonder the town named everything Lavender. This was one of the most beautiful places I’d ever seen.

As we stood there, the expected rain finally arrived. Not torrents, just a steady fall of glistening diamonds, completing the magic.

Andrew’s voice was still a whisper. “I’ll take you there tomorrow when it’s not raining. If you have time before you leave.” He sighed, happily. “That would be a lot sadder if I didn’t know you were coming back.”

There was the clench of my heart again. So painful I had to swallow to catch my breath. I couldn’t say anything. If I did, it would either be a lie or rip my heart out.