Some Like it Hotter

By: Isabel Sharpe



She takes hers tall, dark and extra hot!

To coffee-shop owner Eva Meyer, the California coast is beautiful, mellow…and boring. The solution? Swapping lives—and coffee shops—with her twin sister for one month. Now Eva’s settled in the bustling Big Apple, where she can order anything…anytime.

And what Eva really wants is the extra hot, topped-with-whipped-cream sexiness that is Ames Cooke.

While Eva is convinced she’s found her perfect cup of Delicious Man, Ames isn’t quite sure what to do with the quirky little number who’s charged into his life. He’s supposed to be attracted to someone cool and reserved—like her sister. But Eva has the unnerving ability to turn things seriously hot and steamy. Besides, it’s only for one month. And like every good coffee addict, Ames can stop whenever he chooses….





He was hot—for her!

Eva’s cheeks were flushed, her blue eyes snapped and she’d spent nearly the whole hour tempting him. Her sweater had all but slipped off one shoulder, exposing smooth, sexy skin.

He better go home before he did something stupid. Like kiss her. Or more.

“Actually—” he glanced at his watch “—I should call it a night.”

Then he turned to smile and kiss her cheek in a platonic good-night.

Come on, Ames. Get the hell out while you can.

“I had fun, Eva.” He reached for the door handle. “Thanks for— What are you doing?”

“Who, me?” She’d swung her crazily booted leg over both of his and had managed to straddle him in the cab. “I’m just saying you’re welcome, Ames.”

“Jeez, you can’t—”

Yes, she could. She was already kissing him, hot, hungry kisses, pressing her body close.

He was a guy. That got a reaction. A fairly immediate and large one.

Wait, there was some reason he was going to avoid getting physical with her. Now he couldn’t remember what it was. In fact, his hands were at her waist, traveling down to explore the pink skirt.

Oh, man.





Dear Reader,

I had so much fun writing Some Like It Hotter and playing with New York/California stereotypes to create a story of contrasts. I grew up in central New Jersey, and my husband is from California, so we are well aware that not everyone in New York is driven and harsh, and not everyone in California is a surfer dude, but those types served my story theme and provided a lot of fun, so I didn’t flinch.

Eva Meyer and her twin sister, Chris, learn a lot about themselves by switching coasts, coffee shops and lives. I hope you enjoy Eva’s experience trading a tiny West Coast town for the nonstop thrill ride of New York City. And I hope in February you’ll look for her sister’s story, in which former New Yorker Chris tries to cope with the slow pace of life in California and too many hot men!

Cheers,

Isabel Sharpe




Prologue

THE SUN WAS setting over the Pacific. Eva Meyer sat on Aura Beach on California’s Central Coast, a cup of her own blend of orange chamomile tea in hand. The colors were fantastic, a soaring ceiling of pink, orange and burgundy, reflected in the clouds and across the water. Over her cheeks blew a gentle, fresh September breeze. Pelicans winged past, long necks doubled back, wings arcing, heading south. Any moment the magic of a dolphin breaching the ocean’s restless surface could happen.

She was bored stiff.

As a matter of fact, she’d been feeling off center and uncharacteristically low for the past several months. Around here they’d put her funk down to some interruption in her chi or planets out of alignment or angry spirits or whatever mystical forces might be at work—but her sensible midwestern roots were looking for a more concrete reason. Maybe she’d been working too hard, maybe she hadn’t been social enough, definitely she hadn’t been getting enough sex. But boredom? That kind of thing wasn’t easy to admit. Only the Boring Get Bored had been her accountant mother’s mantra, which Eva had lived by—often to an excess her mother didn’t approve of.

But today, during this relatively rare moment of relaxation and reflection, the ugly truth had burst from its hiding place and smacked her across the face.

Ow.

For the past three of her twenty-eight years she’d been the proud owner of the Slow Pour coffee shop in the tiny town of Carmia, building a decent business, honing its identity, growing its reputation. Though she totally loved the shop, loved the friendly vibe it put out in the community for residents and tourists alike, was totally into the challenge of keeping the business afloat, underneath it all she was...

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