Welcome to Blissville

by Walker, Aimee Nicole

  “You think it’s the final one?”

  “I do,” I said nodding slowly. “There was a finality in his voice that was never present before our chat here on this bench. You know what? I didn’t feel sad. I felt happiness and fondness for the memories we shared, but I sat here for a long time after he left, and all I could think about was the new memories I couldn’t wait to make with you.”

  Jon pulled me to him for a long, tender kiss as the nippy breeze whipped around us. I stopped feeling the chill the second his warm mouth pressed against mine. His teased my lips apart and slipped his tongue between them to learn my mouth like it was the first time.

  “Mmmm, you taste like caramel, coffee, and cum,” Jon said when he finally pulled back. God, his dirty talk never failed to turn me inside out, leaving me horny and breathless. He rubbed his nose against mine. “You ready to start making those memories together?”

  “Here?” I asked, looking around the park. “It’s a bit chilly, isn’t it?”

  “I’d never let anyone watch us together,” Jon said with a growl. “I meant other, non-sexual things.”

  “Yes, as long as the sexual things can be tossed in on occasion.”

  “Oh, baby, there’ll be plenty of that,” Jon said hoarsely. He put his mouth against my ear and told me the naughtiest, dirtiest things he planned to do to me in the months to come.

  I held out my hand, and Jon entwined his fingers with mine. “I’m ready,” I said eagerly.

  I’ll be honest; I wasn’t sure how I would react to life in Blissville, and not just because of the size of the town or Emory’s house. I had lived in various-sized towns and cities throughout the US, and some of my humble abodes I would classify as squalor. I madly loved Emory, and I wanted to be with him, but I’d never attempted a relationship of any kind before, let alone moved in with someone. I had always been more than a little selfish because my downtime was minimal, and I wanted to spend it doing things that made me happy or at least made me feel good.

  A month into my new life, and I couldn’t imagine living anywhere else. There I was, happily strolling down the street holding hands with the man I loved as we made our way to the newly expanded coffee shop in the center of Blissville. The Brew had become Books and Brew with the addition of a bookstore inside the space.

  “I’m so happy for Maegan and Milo,” Emory said. “They’re such lovely people.”

  “Who are they again?”

  Emory looked at me and rolled his eyes. “The people who own Books and Brew.” Emory had missed their grand reopening and was eager to check out the revamped space. He’d explained that their coffee shop was one of four window fronts in their building. The other three had been empty and “sad-looking” for quite some time. “Maegan and Milo knocked down a wall on one side to add a bookstore then renovated the space directly to the right for Maegan’s new venture called Curious Things.”

  “How curious?” I asked. Are we talking sex toys kind of curious?

  Emory playfully jabbed me with his elbow. “Antiques, knickknacks, china, and other things she finds at estate auctions. She’s had an online store through eBay for a few years and decided to turn her passion for antiques and oddities into a brick and mortar retail space,” Emory said. “No whips, shackles, floggers, or cuffs.”

  “Huh.”

  Emory stopped walking and looked at me. “Is that a good ‘huh’ or a disappointed one? Something tells me it’s the latter.”

  I hadn’t told Emory about my past membership at Voodoo and wasn’t sure when, or if, I would. Did it matter? Would it change how he saw me? I had just found him and was afraid to find out. Besides, that part of my past felt like a different lifetime. As cheesy as it sounded, I fell in love with Emory and became a changed man. Sure, I was more than willing to get kinky with Emory if he was up to that sort of thing, but other past activities were off limits. There was no fucking way in hell I’d ever have sex with Emory in the middle of a room with people watching, cheering us on, or masturbating in rhythm to my thrusts inside him. Nor would I share him with anyone else. No. Fucking. Way. I’d snap the neck of anyone who even attempted to put their hands on my man.

  “Where’d you go just now?” Emory asked hesitantly.

  “I dragged my knuckles back to my cave,” I replied. I knew that answer made zero sense to him. Emory narrowed his eyes like he was trying to peer inside my brain. I gathered him close and kissed him as a distraction. It wasn’t a little peck on the lips either; I’m talking a full-on passionate kiss in broad daylight in the middle of the sidewalk. I didn’t give a damn what anyone thought, and I dared them to flap their gums in my direction. I’d never get my fill of Emory, but it was enough to tide me over. I rested my forehead against his and said, “You don’t want to look inside my brain, baby. There are dark places that I’d never want you to witness.”

  “Huh?” The confusion on his face was adorable. He’d forgotten what we were discussing before our kiss. I wasn’t about to remind him that my brain had taken a trip back in time.

  “What about the fourth window front?” I asked, trying to steer our conversation back to safer topics.

  “Um…” Emory blinked a few seconds before he could answer. “Memphis is going to rent it for his comic book store. I’ve never seen him as excited about anything as he is now, Jon.”

  “It’s a wonderful thing you’re doing for him,” I said. I also thought it was cool that Memphis could shove male pride out of the way and accept Emory’s help.

  “I probably owe my life to Memphis,” Emory said soberly. “If not for him, I might not be standing here with you right now.”

  “You’re much stronger than you give yourself credit for, Em.” It wouldn’t matter how much someone else wanted Emory to live if he’d truly given up. It was easier to give credit to Memphis or even visions of River than it was to accept that, even during his darkest hours, he wanted to live. That was something Emory would need to learn for himself though. Our mood had turned heavy suddenly, and I was eager to get it back to the lighthearted tone we’d had before my brain took a detour and distracted us both. I tugged on Emory’s hand to get us moving forward again. “When will Memphis open his store?”

  “I believe Beefcake Andy is starting renovations today so hopefully soon.” Beefcake Andy? Emory laughed when he saw the brooding scowl on my face. “That’s what Kyle calls him. Apparently, Andy hit on Chaz a time or two and Kyle isn’t a fan.” Emory squeezed my hand reassuringly then added, “Memphis is working part time for Maegan and Milo, either at Books and Brew or Curious Things, so we could see him there if he’s not at his store going over renovations with Andy.”

  It amazed me how quickly Memphis fit in with everyone in our new social circle. He seemed like a completely different person than the one who showed up a few days before Emory’s surgery. He smiled more and laughed often. My lips quirked up in a half-smile when I realized I had also described myself. I wasn’t dumb enough to think that my scars would all miraculously heal because I’d found Em, but he made it easier to accept the things that I couldn’t change and focus on the gifts in front of me—life and the promise of an amazing love. Jesus! Maybe I could start writing cards for Hallmark on the side.

  “You’ll have to tell me what’s making you smile like that.” Emory grinned from ear to ear like perhaps he already knew.

  “I was just laughing at how sappy I’ve become.”

  “You aren’t sappy,” Emory said. “That’s sappy!” He pointed to where John Dorchester was obviously wooing his wife outside the coffee shop. Deanna waited beneath the black and tan striped awning for John to reach her. It looked like they had driven separately and were meeting for coffee and a pastry. John whipped a bouquet of flowers from behind his back and presented them to Deanna, who smiled happily at her husband.

  “You don’t think that’s sweet?” I asked. Hell, even I thought it was fucking adorable.

  “It’s precious,” Emory admitted. “I wonder what he did.”

/>   “What do you mean?”

  “Most guys buy flowers when they’re in the doghouse.” Emory sounded like it was a matter of fact, not his opinion.

  “Is that right?”

  “Just my personal observation,” he said. I thought it sounded more like personal experience than a mere observation. If so, I would have to change his opinion over time.

  “Hey, guys,” Deanna said when we walked up to them. “How’s it going?”

  “We’re doing great,” Emory said. Then an ornery grin split his face. “What did John do this time?”

  Deanna threw her head back and laughed throatily at Emory’s question.

  “It’s our anniversary, asshole,” John said. He wasn’t one to tiptoe around anyone, and I liked that about him.

  “Ohhh, so it’s your annual apology then,” Emory commented, nodding as if he understood.

  “You’ve been hanging around Gabe too long,” John told him with mock indignation. “I’m a fabulous husband.”

  “Yeah, and men who brag about their sexual prowess usually don’t have any,” Deanna remarked.

  John glared at his wife. “What exactly are you implying here, darling?”

  “Oh! I didn’t mean it to sound like that. I just meant that people aren’t always the best judges when it comes to themselves. You are a fabulous husband.” She stood up on her tiptoes to kiss him, but he placed his hand on her lips to block her.

  “Your sweet lips won’t get you out of this one,” John said huffily. His twitching lip was making it hard to believe his act.

  “You say that now, but I can convince you otherwise when we’re alone,” Deanna smugly said before she turned and walked into the coffee shop by herself.

  “I’m going to play hard to get when we get home,” John announced. “That woman takes me for granted.” Emory and I both burst into laughter at the same time because we knew better. “You’re a couple of assholes,” John mumbled then followed his wife inside.

  “I think I’m going to play hard to get too,” I told Emory. Instead of laughing, he smiled mischievously.

  “Oh, please do, Jon.” That sounded a lot like a challenge.

  I opened my mouth to respond, but my ringing phone interrupted me. We both expected it to be club business, but Corbin’s name popped up on the caller ID. I instantly knew something was up because Corbin didn’t usually get out of bed until two in the afternoon. He enjoyed staying up all hours of the night at his club where I preferred to be home with my guy.

  “I’ll order our drinks and grab a table while you talk to Corbin.” Emory kissed my cheek and went inside.

  “Hey, Cor. What’s up?”

  “Hey, Romeo. If I had to guess, I’d say it’s your dick,” Corbin replied. His funny remark couldn’t disguise the tension in his voice. He cleared his throat nervously when I didn’t take the bait. “I’m going dark for a little while.”

  The hair stood up on the back of my neck. “Are you in trouble?”

  “No, it’s not me,” Corbin replied quickly. “It’s someone else, and he’s… um… important to me. I need to make things right.”

  “Do you need help? I can be there in—”

  “No, Jon,” Corbin said, swiftly cutting me off. “I can never express how much it means to me that you’d drop everything to help me, but you have an amazing life with a wonderful man. I’d never ask you to put that on hold to help me with something that might not get resolved very fast.”

  “Corbin, I owe you and Beau everything.”

  “You can repay us by living the happy life you deserve. Whether Beau wants to admit it or not, I’m pretty sure he’s on the same path to happily ever after.”

  “What about you, Cor?” I asked him. “Will this mission ensure you find your happily ever after too?” Happily ever after? Who the fuck was talking? We weren’t some motherfucking Disney princes.

  “I think it might, Jon.”

  “Then do what you must. If you get in a bind, you only have to call me. Anytime…”

  “… or anyplace,” he finished for me. It had been our motto for two decades. “I appreciate it, brother.”

  “Have you called Beau?”

  “I’m calling him next. I’m sure his nosy ass will ask more questions than you did.”

  “Well, he’s a lawman now, so asking questions is what he does,” I reminded him. “Take care of yourself, Cor.”

  “I’d tell you the same, but you have someone doing that for you. I’m looking forward to meeting Emory,” Corbin said. I heard the genuine smile in his voice. “I’ve enjoyed talking to him on the phone, but I have to meet the man who won Jon Silver’s heart.”

  “We’re looking forward to it also. Make sure it’s sooner rather than later.”

  “I’ll check in when I can.”

  “Do that,” I said firmly.

  I stood outside for a minute after we said our goodbyes. I couldn’t help worrying about my friend, but I knew he was more than capable of handling whatever he’d gotten himself involved in. I couldn’t help but wonder about the identity of the man who he classified as important to him. Of the three of us, Corbin was the most allergic to the idea of relationships and love. He said his southern mafia roots soured him on the idea that people entered the bonds of matrimony for any reasons other than money, manipulation, or politics.

  I looked up from my phone, and my eyes met Emory’s through the large window front. Memphis sat beside him talking a mile a minute, but he wasn’t paying a bit of attention to what his cousin said. I shoved all my thoughts of Corbin aside and smiled at the man who fucking owned my heart. It wasn’t that I suddenly stopped worrying about my friend; I accepted that he knew what he was doing and would call me if he needed me.

  I opened the coffee shop door and took a deep breath so I could savor the delicious aroma of pastries and coffee. “Hey, Em and Mem,” I said when I sat at the table.

  “No!” Emory and Memphis said at the same time.

  “We don’t do cutesy shit anymore,” Memphis said.

  “It’s not fair that we have shortened versions of our names, but you don’t, Memphis,” I told him. “How about Phis?”

  “How about you choke on that cranberry orange muffin,” he replied in a singsong voice. “Oh! There’s Andy.” Memphis bolted from his seat like his ass was on fire.

  I looked over and saw that Andy was indeed quite a beefcake. Could his fucking gray flannel shirt get any tighter? I glanced over to make sure Emory wasn’t checking the guy out. He was looking at me and grinning like a fool.

  “Memphis seems quite smitten with Beefcake Andy,” I told him.

  “He has to get in line though,” Emory said, hooking his thumb over in the direction of the coffee counter.

  I saw that Milo was watching Andy flirt with Memphis and his clenched jaw made it obvious that he didn’t like it. I was shocked that he openly lusted after a guy with his wife standing right there. Even odder, Maegan appeared to encourage him when she handed Milo a cup of coffee that was obviously for Andy because she kept tipping her head in the carpenter’s direction. Milo kept shaking his head no.

  “They must have a really open marriage,” I said to Emory.

  “Who?” He looked around the room as if trying to figure out what I saw. He turned back around and took a sip of his coffee.

  “Maegan and Milo.”

  Emory practically spat his coffee at me. “That’s so gross,” he sputtered. “They’re brother and sister. Twins, to be exact.”

  What? They looked nothing alike. Maegan had curly blonde hair that she had wrestled into a messy bun on top of her head, fair skin, and light eyes. I thought they were green. Milo was taller, had a darker skin tone, medium brown hair, and blue eyes. The only thing similar about them was the scowls they aimed at one another while they silently argued over Beefcake Andy.

  “Twins?”

  “They’re paternal twins instead of identical,” Emory explained. “Maegan is clearly trying to encourage Milo to go over an
d talk to Andy. There’s definitely some history between the two men, but I don’t know their story.” Emory had his back to them so how did he know?

  “Did you have a vision?”

  “No, smartass,” Emory quipped. “I can see their reflection in the window. Not only that, I’ve been observing them for a while now. A person doesn’t have to be psychic to know things.”

  “Smartass, huh?” I asked with a raised brow. My voice had dropped to a lower pitch, and I saw the excited shiver that worked through my guy. For the last few weeks, Emory had hinted that he was ready to be a little more physical with me, but I worried that it was too soon. His green eyes darkened, and he inhaled sharply through his nose. “Grab your muffin and let’s go.”

  I recalled my earlier comment about playing hard to get and Emory’s reaction. Instead of snatching up my muffin and cup like I wanted to, I leaned back in my chair casually and pinched off a tiny bite of my baked goodie. I let the flavors explode on my tongue and moaned indecently.

  “Oh yeah?” Emory asked. “That’s how you want to play it?”

  “Baby, I’m not playing.”

  Jon broke off another tiny chunk of muffin and popped it in his mouth. He licked the corners of his lips to make sure no crumbs remained. Not playing, huh? Well, he wasn’t the only one who could play dirty.

  “To think I planned to give you a wonderful anniversary gift,” I told him, shaking my head sadly.

  “What anniversary?” Jon said in confusion.

  I made a big production of looking around the room to assure that no one was listening. “I really shouldn’t say right now. It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “So we’re ‘proper’ people now? You didn’t mind slipping your tongue into my mouth for the whole town to see fifteen minutes ago.” Jon was a tough customer, but I was only getting started.

  “Kissing in public is not the same thing as talking about…” I let my words trail off and sat back in my chair like I didn’t have a care in the world. I had many cares, and the primary one was to entice Jon to fuck me without restraint. I saw how hard he struggled to rein himself in these past two months, and I wanted him to be completely free with me. I loved the hard, physical fucking just as much as the tender way he made love to me. It had been too long since he pinned me down and took what he wanted. I rose to my feet and said, “You take your time with your breakfast. I’m going to head on home to do a load of laundry or something mundane since you’re not interested in celebrating this special occasion with me.”