Home > Mr. Garcia(7)

Mr. Garcia(7)
Author: T.L. Swan

“Hmm,” Julian grunts while reading the paper.

“Can you stop being so fucking grumpy?” Spencer asks him as he butters his toast. “I’m sick of grumpy fucking people. They piss me off.”

“What’s grumpy about that?” Julian asks. “I said hi.”

“Oh, my fuck. Can you even hear yourself? It’s your tone,” Spencer rolls his eyes.

Julian fakes a smile. “Feeling a bit precious this morning, are we, Spence?”

“I am, actually. Good morning, Seb. How are you, my dear friend?” he asks sweetly.

I chuckle as I lay the serviette out on my lap. “Morning, boys.”

The waitress appears. “Can I take your order?”

“I’ll have the omelet and a fresh juice,” I say.


“Make that three,” says Julian.

She smiles and disappears.

“So, what’s new?” Spence asks, taking a sip of his coffee.

“Nothing.” I yawn and stretch. “I’m tired.”

“Not sleeping well?” Spencer asks.

“No, I’m fucking good to go.”

“Yeah, well, enjoy the peace.” Spencer blows into his coffee. “I have no doubt that Charlotte is trying to fuck me to death. By the time this baby is born, I won’t have a dick left. There will be two mothers in our family.”

Julian smiles as he reads his paper. “Ah, pregnant sex. Is there anything better?”

“Sleep, Masters. I would like some fucking sleep once in a while,” Spencer sighs. “I’m running on fucking empty here.”

“What a hardship. A hot and horny wife.” I roll my eyes. “Give me a fucking break, will you?”

“More coffee?” the waitress asks, holding the coffee pot up.


“Thank you.”

The waitress pours us our coffees and leaves us alone.

“Oh.” I smile. “Buddy has a girlfriend.”

“He does?” Spence sits up. “This is his first, right?”

“He called me last night, he’s that excited.” Buddy is my sister’s son. His father left when he was two, and I’ve been his stand in dad ever since. We catch up a couple of times a week. I couldn’t love that kid more if I tried.

“He’s bringing her over on the weekend,” I say.

“What do fathers say when they meet their child’s first partner?” Spence frowns.

“Fuck off,” Masters says flatly, never taking his eyes off the paper. “Plain and simple. Fuck you and fuck right off.”

We chuckle.

Julian hasn’t had it easy. His daughter Willow puts him through his paces with her bad partner choices.

“Well, I’m excited for him,” I smile wistfully. “Apparently, she’s the best thing since sliced bread.”

“Aren’t they all when you’re at that age?” Masters asks.

“What are you guys doing today?” Spence asks.

“Same shit, different day.” Julian shrugs.

“Well,” I pause and rearrange the napkin on my lap. “After I leave here, I’ll be driving across the city, through peak hour traffic, to go to a café to be served by the hottest woman I’ve seen in a very long time. Who,” I add, “makes the worst coffee I have ever fucking tasted.”

They both laugh at me.

“You drive all the way across the city for bad coffee?” Julian frowns.

“You couldn’t even call it coffee. I could literally die from this shit, it’s that bad.”

Spencer raises a brow. “Jesus, she must be hot.”

“She is. Way too wholesome and young for me, though.”

“Why? How old is she?”

“I don’t know.” I twist my lips as I run my hand over my stubble. “She would be in her mid-twenties, at a guess.”

“That’s not too young,” Spencer replies.

“It is.” I frown. “I’m in my late thirties. If I asked her out, she’d probably think I was a creep.”

“That’s because you’re fucking creepy,” Masters mutters dryly.

“My point exactly.” I hold my coffee cup up towards him. “Anyway, I have a plan.”

“Such as?”

“I’m going to keep going back there until she asks me out.”

“Atta boy.” Spencer pats me on the back. “Persistence pays.”

“That’s if you live through the coffee,” Masters says as he turns the page of his newspaper.


We finish our breakfast, and before long, I find myself driving to Kensington to the café. I’m not quite sure what it is about this girl, only that I’ve thought about her constantly, which is weird in itself. I don’t think about women… ever.

I park the car and push open the heavy door of the café, not missing the way the bell overhead jingles.

April looks up, our eyes meet, and she smiles softly, I feel it in my gut.

The guy she works with and her exchange looks, and he gives a subtle shake of his head.

What does that mean? Has she said something about me?

I walk to the counter.

“Hello, Mr. Garcia,” she smiles sexily.

I twist my lips to hide my delight at the fact that she remembers my name. “Hello, April.”

“Double macchiato, sir?”

Death in a cup.

I raise my eyebrow. Actually, that’s the last thing I want. “Yes, please.”

“I’ll make it,” she says to the guy she’s working with. With a nod, he disappears out the back. She turns to the coffee machine, and my eyes drop down her body and linger on her behind. She’s wearing tight blue jeans that hug her in all the right places.

Seriously… hot as fuck.

She’s tall with an athletic body. Her hair is cut into a short, blonde bob. It’s thick and has a bit of a curl to it. Her eyes are big and brown, and her skin has a beautiful honey hue to it.

Just looking at her makes me hard.

“What are you up to today?” she asks me over her shoulder.

Jerking my cock off to the thought of you. “Just working.”

“Oh. What do you do?”

What do you want me to do? “I’m an architect.”

She turns and grins. “Wow, that’s impressive.”

Our eyes lock, and I get an image of her on her knees in front of me sucking my cock. I bite my lip to try and hide my reaction to her. It’s been a long time since a woman affected me this way.

She smiles, as if reading my mind, and we stare at each other while the air crackles between us.

Ask her out.

“Here’s your coffee.” She passes it to me.

Ask her out.

“Thank you.”

Ask her out.

“Have a nice day, Sebastian.” She offers me a playful smile.

My cock clenches at the sound of her saying my name. “You, too.”

I begrudgingly turn toward the door.


I exhale with frustration, and I push through the doors. Damn it.

I take a sip of the coffee, and I wince.

Christ Almighty, that’s fucked-up coffee. I immediately throw it in the trash.

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