Faery Godlover: BBW Paranormal Romance Read Online Free Page B

at him, he cleared his throat.
    “Has a cat got your tongue, miss?” he asked, in a voice as deep and smooth as velvet.
    Jasmine snapped out of her reverie with a rosy blush to her cheeks, shaking her head slightly as though to shrug off a trance. “Oh, s-sorry,” she began. “Welcome to Java Joy, what can I get started for you this morning?”
    “It’s after noon,” the man corrected, with his sensual lips pulling to one side in a hint of a smirk. Jasmine bit her lip.
    “Y-yes, sir. Afternoon,” she agreed, smiling sheepishly. Inwardly, she glowered at him. Great, another smartass. As if it really mattered what time of day it was anyway.
    “Right. Could I trouble you for a glass of Kadupul flower nectar, shaken, with ice?” he asked, as casually as one might order a cappuccino.
    Jasmine blinked dumbly at him, trying to find the lilt of a joke in his tone. But it wasn’t there. “Kad-what? Uh, I-I don’t think we carry that here,” she said, frowning at him in confusion.
    He pursed his lips for a moment. “Hmm. Pity. Well, then I’ll just take a chilled moonbeam reduction with a smattering of gold flakes. And whipped cream.”
    Jasmine stared at the guy openly. But he simply stood there, a mild smile on his face, awaiting her next move. Well, if he was going to play this game, she would just join in. He’d have to give up eventually and just ask for a tea or something. He looked like an organic tea guy, one of those enlightened yogi types.
    “Mhmm, and would you like those gold flakes on the side or on top?” she asked brightly, tucking a loose lock of hair behind her ear.
    “On top will suffice,” he replied easily, nodding.
    “Would you perhaps like to add a sliver of the Hope diamond or an ancient Mesopotamian artifact to complete your order, sir?” Jasmine quipped, fluttering her eyelashes sarcastically.
    “Oh no, I think that might overdo it,” the man said. “How much will that be, then? And what is the currency here—yen? Wait, no. Pesos. Oh, hold on—is it the dollar?”
    Jasmine paled, unsure of how to play along with this. Maybe he really was just a weird guy from out of town. And she’d been making fun of him all along. She suddenly felt very guilty. She half-expected Cynthia to poke her head around the corner and write her up a second time for being rude to customers.
    But then the guy’s impossibly handsome face split into a wide, stunning grin. His teeth were perfectly white and straight. He had to be some kind of model.
    And he was pulling her leg.
    “I’ll have a black coffee, plain, piping hot,” he said suddenly.
    It dawned on her that he had been playing her the whole time. She wanted to smack the beautiful smile off his face. What a douchebag.
    “Yes, sir,” she said, her customer service smile stiffening so that her cheeks ached. Jasmine rang it up and took his card, which was almost supernaturally sparkling, as though it were made of the essence of light itself. At first she suspected that, like his initial order, the card had to be fake. But it ran through the register without a single hiccup. She was beginning to realize that everything about this man was a gimmick of some sort. How tiresome.
    “Sign the receipt, please,” she instructed, handing him the little slip of paper. He produced his own writing utensil from a pocket she somehow didn’t notice before on his shirt. Her eyebrows twitched up as he signed the receipt with a long, elaborate, glittering quill. It was adorned with the lush plumage of some exotic bird she didn’t recognize. Where the hell had this guy even come from? A magic shop? A fever dream?
    At first she simply took the receipt from him and slipped it into the register without looking at it. The man gave her an admittedly charming wink and then moved on, leaving Jasmine to gawk after him as he slid down to wait in front of the barista counter. Enzo poured his coffee and slid it across the counter towards him. Enzo, clearly confused by the