Naked Coffee Guy: Meet Mac Dermot

I should walk away. But something about Maren Huerta won’t let me go.

(Read Maren’s POV here)

I was drawn to Maren the first time I saw her. No, not at that rooftop bar, but years ago, when she first moved into the apartments I worked at. I was crazy captivated by her then, and despite the time that’s passed, those feelings were still there when I saw her about to drink away her regrets. I wasn’t stupid—I knew why she was there and who did this to her. I’m the bastard who ruined her life the moment I signed those papers. I had no choice, but seeing her devastation made me regret every breath I’ve taken that hasn’t been for her. 

She didn’t recognize me on that rooftop bar, but she must have gained some good sense that night, because she disappeared without a trace. 

However, in a town as small as ours, it was inevitable our paths would cross again. And that’s exactly what happened at the coffee shop where she works, where I couldn’t stop myself from suggesting a casual arrangement that would either lead to fiery passion, or burn us in the flames of hell. 

And despite her intelligence, her unyielding power, and the way she could break me with just a look…Maren said yes.

Naked Coffee Guy is a steamy dual POV enemies to lovers romance with sizzling scenes and a fully-developed love story. This is the second book in the Sunset Bay series. All novels in the Sunset Bay series are complete standalones with HEAs and no cliffhangers, and take place in the same small coastal town.

Want more? Keep reading.

Sneak peek excerpt from Naked Coffee Guy…

My car is parked in a nearby garage, a black Jaguar sedan with sleek lines and unmatched power. A newer version of a car I once saw when I was just a paycheck to a family with three other fosters. I can still remember the hunger ache in my belly, the way my pants hung loose at the waist but hit at my shins, and how that slinky car wormed its way into my appetite like a cheeseburger and a strawberry milkshake. I wanted that car. More than I wanted to escape the slap of the belt that left welts on my skin. More than I wanted to ease my unquenchable hunger as my foster parents squandered each paycheck on useless junk delivered to the house every day. And almost as much as I craved just one person I could trust.

I knew if I had that car, everything else would be in place. And here I am. Driving the car. Living the life. Free to make my own choices.

Or am I? The mere thought makes me laugh out loud as I press the key fob, the Jaguar’s lights bouncing off the concrete walls. Even though it’s been a few years, it still feels like I’m playing a massive game of pretend. Fancy car. Fancy clothes. A watch that costs more than I used to make in a whole year.

I slide onto the leather seats, inhale the still new smell, and think of the way Maren felt in my arms. The lilac scent of her shampoo, and the hint of honeysuckle on her lips. How she didn’t pull away when I took off her shoes, pulled her to her feet, and kissed her sweet mouth.

How she didn’t recognize me, probably doesn’t even remember me, and may even forget me by the time she wakes up tomorrow. But I’ll remember, and I’ll probably continue thinking of her, just as I have over the past few years.

But I won’t contact her. I was too chicken shit to say anything when we first met, and I lost that right before the ink dried on the documents that secured the sale of those apartments.

She’s better off without me.

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