by Casey Hagen
She shook her head hard, that loose braid hanging over her shoulder dancing with the movement. “Nope.”
He leaned in, and her breath fanned over his lips. “You’re sure?”
“Positive,” she said, the words floating on a sigh.
“Guess you should have thought about that,” he said, slanting his mouth over hers.
She opened to him from the first instant, and he took full advantage of her wordless invitation by tugging that plump upper lip of hers into his mouth.
Fucking hell. She tasted like pure sugared temptation drizzled in nuts and caramel.
Dozens of women over the years had used predictable tricks in their arsenal to try to take him down and sweep him away, and they’d all been utterly forgettable.
Then along came Mabel Lee with her dresses, terminal shyness, and honest wit.
And just like that, with a total lack of knowledge in the art of calculation and seduction, a light, bubbly laugh, and a unique combination of humor and modesty, feelings so turbulent and powerful hooked into his heart banishing what lingered of the wary Kellen of the past.
She hummed low in her throat, her tongue brushing against his tentatively, and as much as he wanted to dive deeper, take more, and swallow that sexy sound, he wouldn’t. He wouldn’t push too hard and fuck any of this up.
He backed away and laughed at the way she stayed there, still in the kiss mode, her mouth slightly open, eyes shut, frosting and toasted coconut from her pointed chin to the bridge of her upturned nose.
He swiped the sweet confection from her skin. The minute her eyelids fluttered open, he sucked his thumb into his mouth.
“Coconut used to be my second favorite flavor in the entire world.”
“Used to be?” she whispered.
“The minute I tasted it served on your lips, it slid into first. From now on, I only want to feast on it if it’s served on you.”
“Oh,” she breathed the word, her cleavage, only noticeable because of their proximity, rising and falling with each breath.
Do something mundane, Savage, before you toss her right on the bench and devour her.
He handed her a napkin, a meager shield for the urges coursing through him, but it would have to do. Taking one of his own, he worked on cleaning up the mess they’d made while pretending he didn’t see her stealing glances of him out of the corner of her eye the entire time.
Thank fuck she was just as in this as he was because just a short time with her and he couldn’t imagine ever going back to a life without her in it.
He caught sight of her licking her fingers, and his mind went blank. Wiped totally fucking clean of all thought beyond the way her tongue slid over her skin.
If he wasn’t careful, the next time he kissed her, he’d ravage her. Wound tight with a whole lot more date left to go, he talked his cock down so he might be able to stand sometime in the next hour. But damn, that sexual tension thrummed between them, snapping and arcing with each look, made it all but impossible.
“Maybe this is why Mama was so adamant that dessert would ruin my dinner,” she muttered, tossing a crumpled napkin on the table in front of them.
She sounded so disgruntled and knocked off balance that he had to laugh. “As long as I haven’t made you so nauseous that you can’t eat.”
She shrugged and tilted her head. “Well, maybe a little.”
“Mabel Lee,” he warned.
She rolled her lips inward, and those eyes of hers flashed with delight.
They’d been together for what, twenty minutes? Yet they slid into this comfortable banter he imagined it took most people several dates to reach.
She leaned toward him on her elbow and took an unladylike bite of her cupcake.
“Yeah, you keep get to eating before that mouth gets you in any more trouble,” he said, taking a bite of his own.
They chewed in silence, their eyes saying all the things their full mouths couldn’t and before long, they were hand in hand leaving Millie’s magic and their first kiss behind with hopefully thousands more to come.
He glanced down at her and nudged her with his shoulder, still trying to keep it light. “Anything you’d prefer for dinner? Are you a barbecue girl? Sushi? Burgers?”
“You like sushi?” she asked as she stumbled over the uneven concrete.
He braced her elbow while she got her bearings. “Not even a little.”
“Then why did you suggest it?” she asked laughing up at him.
“Because I’ll eat anything I have to if it means I get to sit across from you while I do,” he said.
“You say sweet things,” she said.
“I’m a sweet guy. You seem surprised.”
“Since you’re so sweet and all, why don’t I have mercy on your poor, sweet soul and hit The Burger Hut. After that, appetizers at Cooper’s? They have stuffed mushrooms that make me go all gooey inside.”
“Sounds good to me.” They wove in and out of clusters of people window shopping, walking their dogs, and strolling through the quiet streets.
A familiar song poured from one of the businesses, and he spun, then dipped her, barely missing a step.
They talked about their friends and their day jobs, but both avoided talking about their families. She stumbled a bit when he mentioned his HVAC repair business which had him wondering for a few minutes if it was the beginning of the end.
Most women wanted a guy rolling in money, working in the city, wearing their sleek suits and slick attitudes. He was always a bit too blue collar for them, and they were always a bit too forgettable for him.
“Do you like your job?” peering up at him from under long lashes.
No one had ever asked him that. Money had always been a means to an end. A way to keep food in his belly and a roof over his head. He took a minute to think about it, the answer surprising him. “I do, actually. Does that disappoint you?”
“Why on earth would I be disappointed by that?” she said, surprise raising the pitch of her voice.
“Well, it’s not the most glamorous job.”
“I work as an office manager for a cardiologist. Do you think any less of me for having such a glamorous job?”
“You help people,” he said with a shrug not seeing how the two compared.
“And you don’t?” she pointed out.
His lips twitched. “Touché.” A breeze kicked up carrying wisps of hair away from where they framed her face. He tucked a loose strand behind her ear, his fingers lingering on her skin.
“I’m getting the feeling that you’re the one who might not be so okay with your job,” she said, her voice wavering in time with his touch.
“It hasn’t been enough in the past.” Not that he’d wanted what other women thought to rule the way he felt about his career choices, but he couldn’t deny that he’d followed his path out of a bit of desperation. Women before had called it the easy way out. What a man did when he had no other prospects. Their snide comments were endless and dripping with derision.
She reached for his hand, pressed his palm to her cheek, and curled into him. “Maybe you haven’t been spending time with the right women.”
“That’s most definitely the truth,” he said quietly. “What’s that look?” he asked doing a double take catching the way she studied him.
“Just trying to figure you out. You’re not shy on the stage…”
“I’m not?”
“Funny. But no…you’re not. Then when you tell me about your less controversial career you get that look.”
“What look?”
“Pinched. Like you’re awaiting judgment.”
“I may have had a bit more of that in my past than your average guy.”
“That I can understand,” she said.
“Yeah?”
She got a faraway look in her eye and her smile slipped. “I’ve been under the watchful eye of my congregation for the better part of my life. I know the feeling. But if your job supports you and you like it, you should b
e proud of what you do. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks about it.”
And it helped him make sure dirty debts got paid. Debts he’d rather forget now that they’d all been satisfied. Not that he was going there. Not until the twentieth date maybe. Or their tenth anniversary.
Or never. Never sounded good. After all, the past was dead and buried. Why not leave it there? Full of acceptance, he had to wonder if there were some mistakes that would just be too much for her to overlook. Definitely not the kind of issues he should be worrying about on date one.
If anyone could handle it though, it would be her. She had an easy nature, non-judgmental, and a patient way of soothing those around her.
He’d seen it that night at Big Shift.
He had no doubt that her friends could and would have been just like all the other women in the crowd, but with Mabel Lee there, they seemed to gravitate toward her as much as they tried to pull her in their direction.
He wondered if she had any inkling as to the way their unit ebbed and flowed. Or if she’d even appreciate knowing.
A comfortable silence filled the space between them. Just shy of the entrance of The Burger Hut, he lifted their joined hands and brushed a kiss over her knuckles, smiling at the way her breath caught when her lips parted.
Such a simple gesture, fully clothed, and it put that dreamy look in her eye that had him bending down to brush a kiss over the corner of her mouth.
“Dumpster diving for the condom was so worth it,” she whispered, her head tilted back and her eyes still closed.
“Come on, let’s grab dinner and you can tell me all about it,” he said cupping her cheek and pressing a kiss to her forehead.
In a matter of minutes they’d settled in a booth at The Burger Hut with their orders placed and drinks in front of them.
“I didn’t take you for a beer drinker,” he said, watching her take a long drink, her throat working as she swallowed, froth clinging to her upper lip. “Couldn’t picture it with that Jesus Loves Me sweater you spoke so highly of.”
“First one I’ve ever had,” she said and grinned. “And I like it. I might even make a new fashion trend. Or I’ll change the sweater to Jesus Loves IPA.”
“God is watching you,” he joked.
“God, my father sitting right up there with him, and maybe even my mama. She has eyes everywhere,” she said before taking another sip.
A frown tugged at his mouth as he watched her. “You’re not drinking it like a beginner.”
“Fake it until you make it, right?”
“What else have you been faking?”
“I’ve faked confidence heading into this date with you,” she admitted, shocking the shit out of him and pissing him off all at once.
“What the hell? Why?”
She shrugged. “We’re nothing alike, and I haven’t done a lot of dating, so it took everything in me to even call you, let alone actually meet. I’ve never even called a guy before.”
“How is that possible?”
“Remember that mama I mentioned?” she said before taking another long drink.
“Yeah. Tight grip,” he said.
“Yup.”
“You might want to slow down on that, Mabel Lee. You’re getting that look in your eye from the other night.”
“Like I want to lick you from head to toe.”
“Okay, definitely need to pace yourself. Here, have some water,” he said with a laugh.
“You don’t want me to lick you from head to toe?” Her voice climbed an octave, and several heads turned their way.
“Another trick question. You’re astonishingly good at that, even buzzed, but stop it.”
“Fine.” Bracing her elbow on the table and propping her chin in her hands, she drew lazy circles in the condensation along the side of the glass the same way she had at Big Shift. “You ask me something then. I’m an open book.”
“This mama you mentioned? Does she have a tracking device on you that I should know about?”
“Practically. She has tons of friends in the church, and they’re all too happy to report back to her.”
“You’re an adult.”
She let out an unladylike snort and took another sip of beer. “Tell her that.”
He didn’t need her to spell it out for him. The dancing was going to be an issue. Not for Mabel Lee, surprisingly, but definitely for her mama.
“Back to that open book. Your dream date?”
“A picnic at Andalusia by the pond.”
“Andalusia?”
“Where Flannery O’Connor lived in Milledgeville.” She sighed and got a faraway look in her eyes and sense of wonder in her voice. “She’s my hero.”
“Why’s that?”
“She was deeply religious but saw the flaws in organized religion, and she confronted those in her books. Books my mama did not approve of me reading.”
He’d never been so happy to have a day job. Maybe he could just avoid any mention of the stripping period when he finally met the woman. “Okay, so next question. How religious are you?”
“Less than my mama and more than you, if I were to guess,” she said with a snort.
He let out a laugh and stretched his legs under the table, his knee pressing against hers. “Fair enough. And what about premarital sex?” he asked, wondering if he was going to have to put his cock into deep freeze mode.
He wanted Mabel Lee. Oh, he wanted her, but he sure as hell wouldn’t be the one pressuring her to compromise her principles in that regard. He wanted no regrets. Not even a flash. Something told him that regret for someone like Mabel Lee might just linger for a lifetime.
She straightened in her chair and smiled. “Where do I sign up?”
He coughed, covering a gruff laugh. “Good to know. So,” he leaned in and lowered his voice, “not a virgin I take it.”
“Might as well be,” she said, raising her glass. “It was not a noteworthy experience.”
“It? You mean, just once?” he said feeling his eyebrow shoot up his forehead.
“You got it. I believe in God. I enjoy the church, but I don’t think it was ever meant to be quite so…restricting. I don’t think I’m going to hell if I date someone I choose, someone outside my religion. I don’t think the man upstairs will strike me down if I do the dirty in a truck bed, under the stars, tangled up in a heap of soft blankets and warm arms.”
“So, that’s oddly specific. Is that a fantasy of yours?”
The waitress appeared in that moment, crushing his question to dust.
“The double decker bacon and cheese supreme for you, and for you, the sautéed mushroom deluxe,” she said glancing between us with her hands on her hips. “Can I get you anything else?”
“I think we’re good, thank you,” he said waiting for her to be out of earshot. “Now about that fantasy…” he said, ignoring the food in front of him.
“Not a fantasy, just one of the many things I’ve never done that all of my friends were free to do. I know it probably sounds childish, but there were so many things I missed out on. Skinny dipping in Frasier Lake with my friends, bonfires, sacking out under the stars. Regular dates, instead of my mama’s required double dates. Prom.”
“Wait, you didn’t go to prom?”
“Nope. Too much skin. I mean, what did she think was going to happen?” she said with a roll of her eyes.
“Well, you made up for that last night.”
“The sad part is, I wouldn’t have had it not been for the five of us celebrating Aurora’s wedding coming up. The wedding isn’t for two weeks, but I think they know. They feel it like I do. Everything is changing. They’re all in relationships, and I’m just me. It’s like they don’t want to leave me behind, and I love them for it, but one night at a strip joint won’t change anything.”
He stilled and locked eyes with her. “You don’t think so?”
“Nope,” she said, her eyes glassy and her cheeks splotches of charming pink.
He tossed
his napkin on the table and slid out from his side of the booth and joined her on her side. “We might just have to agree to disagree, Mable Lee,” he said, sliding his hands into her hair and holding her there before him, his gaze roaming over those her plump mouth. “I think it changed everything.”
He leaned in and grazed his lips over hers. He didn’t intend to linger. They were in public. Their food grew cold. They had an audience.
But she kissed back. Not just opening for him, but she curled her fingers in his shirt and held on while she tasted him with her curious tongue, nipped him with her teeth, and let out a lusty sigh straight into his mouth.
She rocked him right down to the tips of his toes. Lacking the playfulness from earlier, he dove in and took. With every slide of their tongues against one another, they explored. Screw the burgers in front of them and the appetizers to come. He wanted this, her, and hours upon hours more to memorize her taste, her skin, her sounds.
He dragged in gulps of desperately needed air, all while he held her cradled in his arm, unwilling to let her go. “Definitely changed everything. And I have no regrets,” he whispered over her damp lips.
9
It seemed like the only time they managed to get together for girls’ time lately was for wedding planning, but with all the decisions mapped out and the latest wedding crisis averted, they finally had a chance to crash on the sectional with wine and snacks and just be the five girls again.
Mabel Lee thought she would have been able to tell them about her date when she got home that night, but then the date had taken on a life of its own, and life had happened for them while she was out kissing Kellen.
Aurora’s sister had a freak-out about the dress she had to wear for the wedding and the ten extra pounds she had put on, so Aurora had to talk her down.
Really? Ten pounds happens when you’re pregnant. And Aurora, being Aurora, had prepared for it by ordering two sizes larger just in case. Something she wisely didn’t tell her sister about until it was time to alleviate her meltdown.
