Contents
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Epilogue
Paige Press
Also by Laurelin Paige
Also by Kayti McGee
About Laurelin Paige
About Kayti McGee
Copyright © 2021 by Laurelin Paige & Kayti McGee
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Paige Press, LLC
Leander, Texas
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ISBN: 978-1-953520-65-4
Content Editing: Paula Dawn at Lilypad Lit
CopyEditing: Erica Russikoff at Erica Edits
Proofing: Michele Ficht, Kimberly Ruiz
Cover: Laurelin Paige
One
“Under certain circumstances, profanity provides a relief denied even to prayer.”
—Mark Twain
* * *
When a group of shouting people pop out of nowhere, it startles a person.
Historians say early usages of the word fuck actually meant “to strike” rather than the act of sexual relations. Strike is what I do when “To Mae’d!” blares at me from many unexpected mouths as I enter the kitchen.
The crowd gathered around the island receives a barrage of expletives from me in response to their unexpected presence. “Holyfuckityfuckingfuckerfuck,” I screech, swinging my Passion Party bag and rocketing at least five feet off the floor.
“Oomph,” barrels out of a leather-vested mountain of a man when my sneaker-clad foot connects with his groin.
Gasps fill the room, silencing the thundering pulse in my ears, as my newly purchased dildo flies across the room and knocks over a tripod holding a phone.
Hearty laughter drifts up from the fallen device and a voice that sounds a lot like Will‘s asks, “Did a flying dick just knock me over? Is this payback for seeing mine?”
What is going on? It takes a split second to regain my senses and realize I’m in the midst of friends rather than nefarious foes. Everyone assembled displays various stages of disbelief.
Charlotte, wide-eyed, fumbling to reassemble the tripod.
Ryan, slow-blinking like he’s recently consumed a mountain of gummies.
Dune and a few of his biker friends, mouths open and brows raised.
Ruth, Ryan’s mom, paused mid-fold of a kitchen towel.
Prez hunched over.
Oh dear. I kicked the president of a motorcycle gang in the balls. In my defense, what’s he doing in my kitchen on a Friday evening?
“Are you okay?” Ruth sashays over to him with concern on her face.
“Yeah,” he grunts. “She’s got a firm foot.”
Thankfully Prez truly has balls of steel, because within a minute he rises from his curled over position with a semi-grin on his face.
“I’m good.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting anyone to be here.”
With the smirkiest of smirks, Ryan glances at the rod laying on the counter. “Apparently not.”
Everyone’s eyes dart to the eight-inch elephant in the room.
“I, uh, that’s not for me…” I say to the raised eyebrows around the room. “I had an idea for a side project… Laid With Love. Get it?”
That’s the truth. Obviously, it’s in the beginning stages, but five days ago, after Austin urged me to move to Santa Fe and Logan asked me to stay, I met up with Charlotte and made the most adult decision of my life.
I’m choosing myself.
A guy to accompany me on the journey is just extra frosting on the Mae’d With Love cake.
Charlotte snatches up the rogue toy and pockets it. “I love your idea. That’s brilliant.” She crosses over to me, wearing an adorable Mae’d With Love T-shirt.
“I’ll buy one,” says Angel. “There’s nothing wrong with a little self-love while your man is away on a road trip with his brothers.”
“That’s hot, babe,” Jackal says. He looks over at me. “How much do you want for it? I’ll buy it right now.”
“Oh, um, it’s not for sale yet. I’m still in the developmental phase.” I tilt my head at Charlotte. “What’s going on?”
“It’s a Kickstarter Kickoff party for Mae’d With Love.”
It’s my turn to be shocked. “What? Really?”
“Yes! I sent e-vites to everyone to surprise you.”
She takes my hand and leads me over to a laptop surrounded by balloons on the breakfast table. “See? I’ve got the account all set up for you. We’re going to raise lots of money.” She dips her head forward and whispers, “Because mama needs to rent some space and buy her own kiln so she can quit It’s Clay Time. Just like we discussed.”
“Wow, you work so fast. You remain goals.” We had discussed it. Endlessly, even. During our talk, she suggested crowdfunding, where I’ll receive online donations to help fund my business, and frankly, though I hate to admit it, Charlotte really never is wrong. I just sort of assumed I’d have time to dilly-dally.
“I didn’t want you to lose momentum”—she waves her arm to the room—“and neither do they.”
I hug every single person with my eyes. “Thank you all so much.”
“We got your back,” Dune says.
My heart swells in my chest that these people are here to support me. Although. I can’t help but notice that Austin is noticeably absent.
“Of course, if I’d known you would literally kick people,” Charlotte says, “I would have suggested everyone gently yell.”
“At least she didn’t poison him,” Logan teases from the tripod.
I walk closer to see his smiling face surrounded by his band members.
“Hi,” I say. “Thanks for being here.”
“Sorry I can’t be there in person.” He flashes white teeth at me. “You really know how to make an entrance.”
“I’ll say,” Prez grumbles.
“That was kind of cool,” Dune says with an amused grin. “You looked like you were in the Matrix.”
I apologize again to Prez. “Must be the yoga.”
He throws his heavy arm over my shoulder and gives me a squeeze. “Let’s never talk about it again. Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I smile and glance at the champagne bottle nestled in a bucket of ice and the bouquet of red roses on the counter. My people all wearing Mae’d With Love T-shirts. I feel like everything’s going my way, which is a new feeling. Brand new. Still in the packaging, even. I could really get used to it.
There’s no time to inquire about Austin’s whereabouts, because the party people want to party.
“I can’t believe you did this,” I say to Charlotte.
“I can’t believe you cursed like that. And speaking of fucks...” She laughs and removes the elephant from her pocket. “It is so genius to expand.”
I take it from her. “I don’t do well with surprises.”
“Must be the feeling of lack of control.”
“Maybe? I just like to be prepared to have fun.”
“Then gird your loins,” a twangy voice says.
The people smiling part like the Red Sea, revealing what must be a mirage walking toward me in a Mae’d With Lov
e T-shirt. This time, my scream isn’t from fear.
“Granny Mae! What… How…?”
Her cornflower blue eyes twinkle with merriment. “Close your mouth before you catch flies and get over here.”
In two seconds, I’m wrapped in her thin arms, ample bosom pressed to my heart while she explains that Austin made arrangements to fly her out at the last minute for my party.
“He said it wouldn’t be right for the namesake not to be here. And I have to agree.”
“Me too.” I smile at Austin, who is hanging back, hands in jeans pockets. “How long are you staying?”
“Only until Sunday. What’s that in your hand?”
“This?” I look down at it in hopes it will disappear. “It’s a…massage tool.”
I’m not ready to tell her about my new plan for the business. She’s not a prude by any stretch of the imagination, but I founded Mae’d on her likeness and…oh no, what if she nixes the idea?
“Ah, for a minute there, I thought it was one of those vibratory things. Maybe I’ll use it later. My back is a little stiff from the flight.”
“I love her so much,” I hear Charlotte say.
Austin intervenes and crosses over to us with quick strides. “I’ll put that away for you and take Miss Mae’s suitcase to your room.”
While he’s gone, I introduce everyone to Granny Mae, and she doesn’t even flinch at the ratio of leather vests in the room because she’s cool like that.
When Austin returns, Ryan asks in front of everyone about the Santa Fe job.
“It turns out that when I really thought about what sparks joy, it was with what I have now, not the dream I had in college,” I say. “I have grown as a person. And not just because of all the pasta I get now.”
Over his shoulder, Austin’s gaze meets mine, but his face is unreadable.
“Thank you so much for getting me the opportunity, though.” I look around at the cute Mae’d shirts everyone is wearing, and the box of more, waiting to become backer rewards. “And for making the T-shirts.”
“I think you’ve folded enough of his that you earned them,” Ruth says.
We laugh, but really I have, and Logan tells everyone goodbye because he has to go onstage. “Congrats, Chloe. So proud of you,” he says in his sign off. “I’ll call you later. Enjoy your party.”
I give him a little wave, feeling Austin’s stare bore through my head.
“So, what exactly are your plans for Mae’d?” Dune asks. “Because we need to talk about incorporating. We should probably make a list.”
“Well, let’s hit publish on this Kickstarter first, and then we’ll talk.”
Charlotte beams. “Let’s do it.”
Holding Granny Mae’s hand, I press publish.
They clap, and I woo, and Austin uncorks the champagne, spewing foam down from the chilled bottle.
“To the next phase of Mae’d,” Charlotte says.
Our glasses clink, and the celebration continues with Granny Mae herself charming everyone with tales of how she came up with certain recipes.
They love her. I love her.
Austin remains on the periphery, whipping up hors d’oeuvres, glancing up to smile occasionally. As the night goes on, we break into clusters of conversations, the way it happens once people get some champagne and snacks to break the ice.
“Tell me more about this new idea,” Charlotte urges when we’re alone in a corner of the kitchen.
She listens as I explain how Anna at It’s Clay Time had invited me to her Passion Party. Sitting in a circle of women passing flavored lube around, I then recalled Mildred’s frequent restocks and the wide world that romance novels had opened to me.
What happened next was nothing short of a miracle.
While holding a set of anal beads, fingering them like a rosary, thinking I needed to get laid, the idea came to me like a vision straight from the heavens.
“Only you could think of something so clever while being so sacrilegious.” She sips her sparkling water. “I’m impressed.”
“Life is never a straight path, so why should I try to follow one? If I learned anything this last year, it’s that I’m nuanced—good girl and bad girl—and my business can reflect that side of me.”
She clinks her glass to mine. “Amen. Now, go put Austin out of his misery, will you?”
I look over to where he stands, listening intently to something Granny Mae is telling him as he refills a serving dish with freshly fried tortilla chips and homemade guac.
“Yeah, it’s time.”
Charlotte beckons Granny Mae over to explain how she makes her onion dip, and I snag a red rose from the vase.
“Hey, you,” Austin says when I approach.
“Can we porch?” I ask.
He nods and follows me outside, where we both try and fail to start the conversation while awkwardly speaking over each other.
“I already know wh—”
“I wanted to—”
“No, it’s—”
“No, you—”
“Fine—”
“I hav—”
“I unders—”
Any MC heroine in a situation like this has but two choices: slap the hero across the face, or kiss him.
I opt for the second, just a soft peck, enough to shut him up, but enough to light me up like the moon hanging in the sky.
“First… I can’t thank you enough for getting Granny Mae here. Best surprise ever.”
“It wasn’t easy keeping it a secret. But she had to be here. She’s the foundation of your business. And your life. Wish I could’ve been here to see your entrance. I heard all about it from Ryan. He said you cursed up a storm.”
“Technically, there was no storm. I merely struck. Verbally. Did you know your brain doesn’t consider swear words as words? They’re just blobs of emotion stored in a different part of your brain than all the other words we know.”
“I didn’t know that.” He looks at me like I look at art—full of wonder and appreciation. “I’m glad you’re staying here in Colorado.”
“Glad you mentioned that.” I look down at the flower in my hands. “When I told people about the job, you were the only one who didn’t try to influence my decision by how it would make them feel.”
He tilts my chip up to meet his dark gaze. “I’m sorry. I should have been more honest about my feelings. Of course I wanted you to—”
“No, you respected my feelings. And that’s why… Austin, will you accept my rose?”
Two
If life were perfect, Austin would reach out with misty eyes, take my rose, and utter something romantic, maybe poetically comparing me to the delicate flower I’m offering him, and we’d live happily ever after in our house on the hill.
Unfortunately, it’s still an imperfect real world.
“Chloe,” Granny Mae interrupts, bursting out the door and preventing Austin from answering me. “Dune is taking me for a ride on his motorcycle. I’ll be back soon.”
My head whips to her petite frame. “What?”
Dune steps outside. “She’ll be fine. I’ll be right back, Mae. I had to park my bike down the street to keep everything a surprise.”
He hustles past us with long, booted strides, and I leave Austin to follow my wayward granny across the porch and down the steps onto the driveway.
“Well, wait.” I finally stop her at the curb. “I don’t know about this.”
“I do,” she says. “I’m going to take some pictures to post on my FriendsOfFriends account. Spice things up a bit. If you want to catch big fish, you need the right bait.”
Though her dating phase unsettles me, I say, “Oh, I can drive you. I have seat belts.”
She pats my arm like she’s reassuring a small child. “Don’t be silly, Chloe. I’ve never been on a motorcycle, so I’m going to cross it off my bucket list. The women at Bingo will be so envious. Did I tell you my neighbor created an account on the site? She’s been snatching up all my rejects. She�
�ll be hard-pressed to come up with a biker.”
I peek over my shoulder at Austin for help, but he’s grinning like he thinks this is the best idea in all the land. I disagree. It’s not that I think she’s too fragile to ride on a motorcycle… Okay, maybe it is.
“Wait for us,” Ruth calls out. “Prez is going to take me for a ride, too.”
If I’m not mistaken, she has an extra swing in her hips as she saunters down the driveway with Dune’s father hot on her leather loafers. There’s no mistaking the look he gives her or the way she twinkles like the stars when he leaves us to retrieve his Harley.
“I’m so glad you came into Ryan’s life,” she confides. “If not, I wouldn’t be here and I wouldn’t have met Prez. Thank you for staying friends with my son after he broke up with you.”
“You’re welcome,” I say, not interested in correcting her about Ryan’s and my breakup, because the thunderous roar of Dune’s bike rumbles down the road and pulls onto the blacktop.
“Put this on,” he tells Granny, offering a helmet.
As she slips the black helmet over her silvery blonde bob, the glee on her face erases twenty years, but not my hesitation.
Austin appears beside me and drapes an arm over my shoulders. “I’m sure I don’t have to say it,” he directs at Dune.
“Nope,” he replies.
“You get me?”
“Yep.”
Side note: Dune and Austin’s conversation dynamics are so fascinating to me. Somehow, they’ve found a way to communicate with as few words as possible. And it works.
“You sure?”
“Yeah, man. I’ll treat her like my own.”
And that’s enough reassurance for me to give my blessing. “Have fun, and remember camera angles are important.”
“How do I get on this thing?” Granny asks.
Austin helps her on the back of the bike and once Ruth settles behind Prez, she waves as they roar away at what I can only consider a snail’s pace for Dune.
Summer Lovin: A Dating Season Novella Page 1
