by Casey Hagen
She thought about the dumpster stink she couldn’t quite shake. “Actually, I have a couple friends over.”
“Any chance they’re leaving soon so I can make it up to you with coffee?”
“Mmmm, don’t know about that.”
“About them leaving or the coffee?” he asked.
“The coffee. Sounds an awful lot like a date, and I don’t really know you.”
“You’ve seen me naked.”
“Well, yes, but—”
“I haven’t seen you naked.”
Her mouth ran dry, and blood rushed through her veins. “No, but—”
“No buts. You have the advantage here. I’m at your mercy. Coffee. You can meet me there. Totally platonic.”
“Where?” She didn’t even know where he lived, but she prayed he picked a place at least ten miles from her. Sundays were for families and friends to stroll around town and socialize. With not a cloud in sight and the humidity surprisingly under sixty percent, people would be out, and the last thing she wanted to do was spend her first time with Vip—Kellen, sober and all, cramping up at the idea of running into someone who might report right back to her mama.
She’d tell her in due time. Really, she would. Well, if there were anything to tell.
“Do you know of Millie’s on the Green?” he asked.
Closer to Macon than Willette, she figured she’d be safe. Besides, the place was small. She only knew about it because of its proximity to her favorite bookstore. “It’s about twenty minutes from me.”
“Does five work for you?” he asked.
She glanced at the clock. She’d have two hours to scrub herself four or five times. Cassidy and Aurora could be on the sniff test assembly line to make sure her morning adventure didn’t linger. “I’ll be there.”
“Good. I’ll see you then, Mabel Lee,” he said, his voice dropping, the sexy tone doing more for her than Eric Fischer ever could have in the back of that car.
“See you,” she said quietly. “Bye.”
She set her phone on the coffee table and took a step back.
“Well?” Cassidy asked.
“We’re meeting at five. I need to start getting ready now, starting with the lingering stink. I don’t know if it’s me or the trash bag at this point.”
Aurora got to her feet. “You get Mabel Lee in the shower. I’m on fumigation duty.”
“On it! Let’s do this. What kind of date are we talking?” Cassidy asked.
“Coffee. Millie’s on the Green,” she said, heading for the bathroom.
“Casual, but cute. Late enough that you don’t have to worry about digging through your wardrobe hoping for miracles.” Cassidy snapped her fingers and her eyes lit up. “I have an idea…”
Mabel was counting on it.
7
Mabel Lee smoothed her hands over her sundress as she climbed out of the car. She loved the way a good dress made her stand a bit taller and smile with more confidence, but loathed how they had a tendency of becoming invasive species determined to climb into her underwear during car rides.
There was taking-off-your-clothes sexy and then there was skirt-tucked-into-your-drawers awkwardness.
Well, darned if that didn’t just describe her first, second, and probably every meeting to come between her and Kellen.
What are you doing, girl?
That flash of inner doubt used its outdoor voice to call Mabel Lee out on what she was about to do.
If that wasn’t bad enough, the lace of her new bra scratched against her with every shift of her arms. Now she wished she had washed it instead of spending the past week wondering if she should just return it.
Didn’t all women her age have pretty lacey bras? Her friends only had lacey bras and not just the pretty variety.
They had the kind made to bring a man to his knees.
She wouldn’t know what to do with a man on his knees. Not that she would admit that. Cassidy would whip out a notepad and draw her a visual aid.
But if it were Kellen on his knees… laughter bubbled up from her throat, and she slapped a hand over her mouth.
No nervous laughter.
No.
She turned her focus to Millie’s on the Green, a quaint coffee shop on the edge of the village circle in Oak Mills. The one-story former schoolhouse had been revamped into an intimate coffee shop with heart-stopping pastries loaded with thick gooey toppings and nuts. So many nuts. Oak Mills had named Millie Akers their unofficial sugar queen, and Mabel Lee wholeheartedly agreed. Her mouth watered at the thought of her award-winning praline cupcakes.
Coffee, though.
They were there for coffee. But she could indulge in a treat, right? After all, was there some first date rule book that specified coffee dates just shy of the dinner hour couldn’t include cupcakes?
Her mama’s voice echoed in her mind, index finger pointed right at her with a firm shake of her head that she’d spoil her dinner.
Or maybe she’d be more focused on the date with the stripper part.
Maybe her mama’s head would just explode with the knowledge, taking her inner rule book with her.
The door creaked, and the bell chimed, formerly charming sounds, but today harsh as they blared and cast a spotlight on her arrival.
Self-consciousness surfed on a wave of panic, and she did her best to squash it back down. Ten minutes early, she had to have been the first one there anyway. She could order her drink and pay, taking the worry about who paid the tab out of the equation.
“Mabel Lee.”
That voice. So many things about last night flitted through a haze, but that voice was the razor that sliced through it all. The phone didn’t do him justice, although he was pretty darn delicious on the phone.
Turning to the sexy rumble, she found him leaning against the window ledge, hands tucked into the pockets of black slacks, sans the typical pleated front, leaving the fabric hugging his shape.
Her mouth ran dry, and a shiver shot straight up her spine, making the wisps of hair at the base of her neck stand up.
“Are you staring at my junk?” he asked with a gravelly laugh as he pushed away from the wall and headed for her.
Oh God. She was. She was totally staring with the intensity of Superman’s laser vision. “Nope. No. Not at all. It’s just you have a—uh—well, you…” The words fell away as her brain betrayed her by snatching every single explanation she tried to give to him.
I can explain dumpster diving in a choir robe and crown, with Mr. Johnson’s dentures in my bra to a preacher, but—
She slapped a hand over her mouth when she realized the words she’d been thinking had actually poured out of her mouth.
One thick, dark eyebrow shot up, and his mouth twitched.
“It’s a long story, and I don’t look very good in it,” she said weakly.
“A story in which Mr. Johnson got to second base.”
“What? No. Well—really, it was just his teeth.”
He nodded. “Past second base then.”
“I don’t suppose we could change the subject?” she said, wincing.
He cocked his head and grinned at her. “Back to my junk it is.”
That laughter bubbled out of her again, and she found him smiling, his eyes dancing. “You’re exasperating.”
“You’re stunning.” His words landed between them, crushing the banter with their finality.
She glanced around, desperate for something to draw her attention. His body practically loomed over her in the most delicious way. Overwhelming and irresistible, she wanted to hide from the hope that bloomed in her when he said them. Heat flooded her cheeks until her hand felt like ice against them.
“And your blush is the best part,” he said as he cupped her cheek and his thumb fanned over her skin.
“I hate it,” she admitted. That blush had confessed every transgression for her entire life. For once, she’d love to be a little mysterious. To have some sort of allure, but nope, blotchy red p
atches it was.
He shook his head and smiled. “Don’t. It’s one of the very first things that caught my attention.”
“And the others?”
“I’ll tell you when you tell me about Mr. Johnson’s teeth. Come on, let’s get that coffee.”
He took her hand as though it were the most natural thing in the world and he’d done it thousands of times. His long, rough fingers wound through hers, his hand swallowing hers whole.
She stared down at the contrast of their skin, the way they complimented one another, and for the first time, that sense of safety that came from being cherished flared to life inside her.
Taking a breath, she realized those nerves that had her on edge just moments before had disappeared with their silliness. A sense of comfort and peace replaced it.
And attraction.
The deep and rumbling kind sitting just under the surface, vibrating with energy, just waiting for the chance to explode between them.
“You okay?” he asked, giving her fingers a squeeze.
“Good. I’m good.” She swallowed the lump of emotion clogging her throat. She expected a good time, maybe an adventure, but she never expected this man, her polar opposite, to make a play for her heart with the first touch.
Down, girl. Fun. This is your adventure. Keep it light.
“Breathe, Mabel Lee. I don’t bite. At least, not if you don’t want me to,” he whispered against the shell of her ear.
His words climbed right inside her and tantalized all of her naughty bits. “If we’re counting on my willpower, we’re in a whole lot of trouble,” she grumbled.
He laughed and winked. “I’ve got enough for the both of us, for now. If I can let you walk away after you had your fingers in my pants, I can protect us both from your newfound impulsiveness.”
“How do you know it’s new?” she asked a bit put out by his assumption. Okay, so he had it right, but still.
“It might have something to do with your guy repellent tirade last night. Nice cross by the way,” he said nodding toward the jewelry dangling just beneath her throat.
She scrubbed her forehead with her fingers and winced. “Did it involve Jesus Loves Me sweaters?”
“Oh yeah.” He squeezed her hand. “Now get that look out of your eye. I enjoyed it. Enough to write my phone number on a condom, something I’ve never lowered myself to in all these years.”
“You look like the kind of guy who can make a woman yours with just a smile and a wink.”
“Easy women. Something tells me there’s nothing easy about you, Mabel Lee.” He lifted their joined hands and aimed them at the chalkboard menu running the full length of the wall behind the counter. “What would you like?”
“The pumpkin spice bomb with extra cream please.”
“Pumpkin spice in the summer? You rebel.”
“Not too much of a rebel. I wouldn’t have ordered it last week. It wasn’t close enough to fall yet.”
“Of course it wasn’t,” he said with a laugh. “Anything else?” he said, glancing down at her.
“It’s almost dinnertime.” Her mama’s words slipped from between her lips, and she closed her eyes.
His lips quirked. “So?”
She winced. “I don’t want to spoil my dinner?”
“Why?”
“Well, because.” And why was she so determined to fall on this sword?
“What do you think will happen?”
“I don’t know. If you ask my mama, the world will stop spinning, and societies will crumble to dust.”
“Let’s find out. Pick something sinful to sink your teeth into.”
She gave him a pointed look. “I thought I already did.” Oooh, look at her. She finally did it. Double entendre queen right over here.
“Oh, really?” he said, studying her.
She wasn’t sure what he saw there, but his avid gaze was enough to have her fidgeting with the hem of her dress, counting the seconds until he glanced away so she could breathe again.
“You’re an enigma, Mabel Lee,” he said quietly. “How about we do this…dessert now, dinner after, and finish with an appetizer. Three different courses. Three different places. If the world ends, at least we’ll be together.”
“You want to do a full date backwards?” she asked while memorizing his words. Keep it light, yes, but there was no reason that she couldn’t take out her favorite sigh-worthy moments at night when she replayed their date in her mind on a constant loop.
“Seems fitting. You’ve seen me naked; that’s not usually something that happens until at least the third date.”
“You expect us to have sex on the third date?”
His olive eyes flared with something she didn’t quite recognize before he blinked the heat away. “Well, that was just an example.”
“So, you don’t expect us to have sex?”
It’s like something gave way inside her, and intimate words were so much easier to say.
Maybe it was the night in the strip club.
Maybe it was her morning in the dumpster.
Either way, she could definitely get used to this. She was so going to tear away the cellophane wrap surrounding her, keeping her shiny and pristine, and get some life on her.
She just wouldn’t tell her mom. Nope. That woman, as much as she loved her, needed to be eased into changes. Like, over the course of a decade maybe.
And so had Mabel Lee, but now, all she wanted to do was jump off that cliff and soar toward the cool waters below. Come what may.
“Uh, I’m not sure how to respond to that. There’s literally no right answer,” he said. “But I love the sound of the word when it tumbles from your pink lips,” he said with a wink.
“Look at how serious you just got. I’m just messing with you. Testing you out a little. Okay, a reverse date it is, but I can only commit to dessert and dinner. We’ll see if you earn appetizers.”
“You totally had me going,” he said.
Her too. “I know; it was really kind of beautiful.”
They ordered their coffees, her pumpkin spice, his black, and dueling pastries, hers dignified praline, and his…atomic coconut.
With the place practically empty but for foot traffic that quickly darted in and out for their sugar or caffeine blast, they snagged the best seat in the place.
Benches lined the three walls, and in the far corner, a small scarred table sat tucked against where those benches met.
“Well, you wanted dessert first, and now you’ve got it. I’m just wondering how you’re going to eat it,” she said, nodding toward his pastry, shaped like a cross between a tort and a cupcake, but easily the size of a baby’s head.
“I didn’t really think this through.”
“A knife and fork?” she asked, taking a small bite of her cupcake, trying to keep the mountain of frosting from going straight up her nose.
“You look like a mouse nibbling that thing,” he said with a laugh.
“It’s better than wearing it. This is definitely not first-date food.”
“We’ll call it our second date then,” he said.
“We can’t call last night our first date. Not after the way I acted.”
“You were charming.”
She winced. “I was drunk.”
“Temporarily, and still charming,” he said with a hearty laugh.
“You’re biased.”
“You’re right. And I still wonder what I’m going to do about it.”
Lines bracketed his mouth and his shoulders stiffened. The man looked positively disgruntled. She swiped the frosting with her finger and plopped it into her mouth. “Why do you have to do anything? You’re not down on one knee proposing. I like you. You like me. And we’re making a commitment to have fun together.”
“Yeah, well, relationships don’t have a high success rate with my job. Women can’t handle it.”
Something about being lumped in with most women didn’t sit well with her. She didn’t know why since she
’d spent so much time wishing she’d been like her friends. But they were unique personalities.
She tried to imagine the women he would have been with but came up with a whole lot of nothing. “I thought we established I’m not like most women?”
“True.”
“Well, then don’t assume I’ll react like most. I saw you up there. I know what you do. I assume you have a good reason to do it.”
“I do,” he said with a nod.
“Well, there you go. I shamelessly asked you personal questions last night that were none of my business, but I believe you answered them honestly. You’ve slept with customers and you don’t do that anymore. So, it has nothing to do with me.” She let the words rush out of her and was surprised to find she meant every last one. Who would she rather be, the woman he wanted in his bed for a few hours whose name he might not even remember, or the one he waited to hear from whose hand he wanted to hold?
“I can’t decide if you’re messing with me or if you’re so naïve that you don’t have any preconceived notions of jealousy and competition.”
“As much as it makes me look bad, it’s the second.” And the last thing she wanted on their reverse date was to get into the whys and hows of that naivety. “Hey, I think I’ve found just the right way for you to eat that,” she said, sliding up and tucking in alongside him.
He eyed where their thighs and hips met with a hot hooded gaze. “If it means you getting closer to me, I’m all for it.”
She slid her fingers under the edge of the wrapper and balanced the pastry on her palm. “Good. I’m glad you trust me.” With those words, she held it up to his lips. “Now bite.”
With his gaze locked on hers, she choked back the bubble of laughter and shoved the cake in his face.
8
Oh no, she didn’t.
He kept his eyes on hers, as her shoulders shook with laughter, and licked the frosting away.
She bit down on that bottom lip of hers as if it was all she could do to keep that full-blown belly laugh he’d witnessed of hers at bay.
“Now you’re going to get it,” he said quietly.
Her eyes shot wide, and her mouth fell open. She tried to scramble away, but he snagged her wrist and brought her right in, until she leaned against him, her mouth just a mere inch from his. “Didn’t you say you wanted a taste of this?” Arousal shot through him with each heavy thud of his raging heart.
