Cookie Run Latte Cookie Novels & Stories

The barista—a girl with purple streaks in her hair—gave me a bright smile. “Large iced latte with oat milk, extra shot,” I said. “And… uh, one of those breakfast sandwiches. The one with egg, bacon, avocado. Toasted. And a chocolate croissant. And a bottle of water. Oh—and those little fruit cups. The ones with berries.” She rang it up without batting an eye. “To go?” “Yeah. And can you throw in a couple of those heart-shaped sugar cookies? The pink ones.” She grinned wider. “Special someone?”

I am not on social media so I probably shouldn't worry about that. But what if my co-workers saw it...what if... "Lena". His voice cuts into my thoughts. I blinked. "You can trust me". Wait what? How did he read my mind? "I’ll have the special house blend latte, but make it with oat milk instead of regular, extra shot of espresso, and a touch of cinnamon on top.and one of those fresh blueberry muffins if they’re still warm,please.” He said all of a sudden. I blinked and nodded slowly then pulled the window to the kitchen area.

Shelby "Thanks for meeting me," Kels says as I slide in, holding my coffee. "You didn't have to ask me twice. I love the cinnamon rolls here." A Whole Latte Love has become one of our favorite places to meet. "Me too." She takes a drink of her frappé. "I asked to have mine heated up." I giggle. "Yes, that's why I didn't bring it to the table with me." "It was good seeing you at girls night out."

Zlata Likhachyova’s corner bakery has always been popular, ever since I can remember. She’s famous for her freshly baked cookies and Medovik (honey cakes.) That familiar warm, sweet smell filled my nostrils invitingly as I hurried inside. Three people bundled up in heavy jackets and warm clothing waited patiently for their orders, sitting in the only four available seats. I used to hound Zlata about buying a larger space, but she’d wave me off and give me something to “stick my nose in so I’d stay out of her business.” Crowds would come and go, and there were days I’d be rolling out dough, baking, and layering the final products with rich creamy icing without any breaks for eight hours strai

“I said thank you elegantly.” “You curtsied,” Bianna said. “Because I have culture.” I walked over to the island and picked up one of the cups from the cooler still sitting open. The label was neat, ivory white, the lettering embossed. Portland Artisan Gelato. Pistachio Sicilian. Dark Chocolate Sea Salt. Vanilla Bean. Strawberry Mascarpone. Dulce de leche. I stopped at the last flavor. Dulce de leche. Bianna’s eyes followed mine. “That one hasn’t been opened. He said maybe the adults would like it.”

The familiar aroma filled her senses, sinking into her throat and making her eyes sting. Honey Vanilla Cloud Latte. The name surfaced instantly in her memory. Her hands trembled slightly as she clutched the cup, and a lump formed in her throat. In this world, Lysia knew for certain that she would never find this exact coffee anywhere—not in any café, not in any restaurant. Because this recipe had been created by him, ten years ago, just to comfort her. Back then, she had to stay up late studying for exams but couldn’t handle the bitterness of regular coffee. So, he had used honey and fresh milk to soften the taste for her.

His usual confident and polished demeanor was nowhere to be seen. Curiosity must have gotten the better of my coworkers. Though they walked briskly past, they kept turning back for another look. I took the day off and gestured for Lucas to follow me to a quiet café nearby. “Two Lattes.” Lucas immediately pulled out his phone to pay. The barista, however, tilted his head in surprise and asked me, “Oh? Trying something new?” I shook my head. “The usual.” Lucas frowned as he paid. Once we sat down, he looked at me, puzzled.

Esme muttered. As they made their way back inside the Ashford group, Esme took the first sip of her spiced latte. As the flavors exploded on her tongue, she hummed with approval. Its not just your typical latte. She can taste hint of cinnamon and something else. Its not too sweet, but good. "Its nice" she murmured in approval. Tina grinned. "Isn't it? But Steve doesn't like it. Some how, he finds it girly" Tina complained good naturedly.

Making the weird smile on Lila's face appeared once again, replacing the unwelcome sulky mood. The kitten was really enjoying its life. Even Uncle Malcolm whom Lila thought disliked the kitten in the first place, treating it like a princess now. How sweet. Soon, Lila stood in the front of the counter at the Angela Barlow café near home. She thought that she needed some croissants and a cup of a very cold cafe latte. "Thank you." Said Lila to the man behind the counter when he placed the box of croissants and the cup of cafe latte in front of her.

Peyton, what the hell? Stop already. You promised to forget them, remember? “You good?“ Jason's face is inches from mine, the frown ceasing on his brow. I shift back, offering a pathetic smile. "I'm fine," I say, wrapping my hands around the mug. "So, this is the non-burnt rubber special?" "The Vanilla Bean Latte," Jason declares proudly. "Best in the area. Or at least the best on this block." He takes a sip, getting a little foam on his upper lip. He doesn't notice.