by Mimi Strong
“Wait,” he said, and he pulled me into him. He brushed my hair from my face and kissed me, from forehead to chin. “This wasn't just a one-night thing for me. It was really special, and I want you to know that.”
“Same,” I said, my throat getting tight.
I pulled the door open and called Princess to come with me.
They both followed me downstairs.
The presence of a man and a dog was met with raised eyebrows and knowing smiles by both Al and Bryan.
The driver finished his scone and tea, and led the way to the waiting car.
Shawn loaded my suitcase into the trunk and gave Princess a hug goodbye, then he kissed me.
There were tears in my eyes as I looked up at him.
He brushed away a tear from my cheek and said, “Why are you so sad?”
“Because this is the end, and we only just had our beginning.”
He grabbed onto me, hugging me tight. “Don't be silly. I have a ridiculous amount of Airmiles.”
I pulled back and stared up at his puppy-dog brown eyes.
“Long distance relationship?” I asked. “Aren't those more trouble than anything?”
“I wouldn't know,” he said. “But it doesn't have to be long distance forever.” He kissed me again. “I love this town, but I'd be happy anywhere you are.”
I glanced around at the quaint street, with the old-fashioned houses. One townhouse with a green door caught my eye. “It's pretty nice around here, too.”
He took my face in his hands and said, “Wherever you are, that's where I'll be.”
The driver started the engine.
I climbed into the car and tried to look away from Shawn's face, but I couldn't. He looked like he wanted to say something to me, so I rolled down the window.
I said, “You want to say goodbye to Princess?”
He looked at the little dog sitting next to me. “Goodbye for now Princess, I'll see you soon. I can guarantee that, because I really like your new mommy.” He turned to look at me again. “Laura, I really like you.”
Tears streamed down my cheeks. This time, they were happy tears.
“I like you too,” I said. “See you soon.”
The driver pulled away from the curb, mentioning that airplanes didn't wait for people liking each other.
As we drove away, the driver asked if some music on the radio would be okay. I said yes, and he turned it on.
I bet you can guess who the singer was.
That's right, Dolly Parton. The goddess of love and joy herself.
And so, I returned home, with a little Princess to love. I wasn't married, or engaged, and I wasn't even sure if I had a boyfriend. But I felt confident about my future. I could love again. I would feel passion, and I would have hot kisses, and maybe some more kinky sex, or sensual sex, or more making love. I didn't have to label anything. Love was real and it was everywhere, and all I had to do was believe in it.
I returned home with a fresh new perspective, and I vowed to wear bright colors every day, and take more chances. I'd flirt with cute guys, no matter their age.
When I returned to my job the next day, I realized I loved my career in fashion. I loved my co-workers, and I was excited about the future.
You're probably wondering, did Shawn come to visit me?
Yes, he did.
And that'll be a whole new story, for another day.
THE END of The Ice Cream Shop Boy #1
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Stardust - Peaches Monroe Book 1
Description: Peaches Monroe is a curvy young woman who always speaks her mind. She's working in her small town bookstore when a handsome dark-haired man comes running in, hiding from reporters. He's Dalton Deangelo, a sexy actor who plays a vampire on a popular TV series. Within minutes of meeting, Peaches and Dalton have undeniable chemistry. She thinks he's just a Hollywood playboy after another conquest. He thinks she's the cutest, funniest, smartest girl he's ever met. Sparks fly in this very funny, highly erotic series.
Length: Stardust is a full-length novel, about 300 pages in print. It's book 1 of a 3-book series. Books 2 and 3 (Starlight and Starfire) are available separately and not included in this anthology.
Heat level: Very spicy, with frequent, graphic sex scenes. WARNING: While book 1 focuses on the romance between Peaches and Dalton, books 2 and 3 explore her other romantic relationships, on the way to Peaches Monroe's Happily Ever After.
Turn the page to dive into this USA Today Bestselling erotic romance, Stardust by Mimi Strong.
Or click here to return to the main Table of Contents.
CHAPTER 1
I wasn't always such a magnet for hot guys, but the secret of my awesomeness got out the day I met Dalton Deangelo.
I was standing on an old wooden stool, inside a bookstore.
The bells on the door jingled, and someone came rushing into the store, breathing heavily.
He was looking over his shoulder, not at where he was going. His hard, manly body impacted my soft thighs, and I fell, screaming, right into his arms.
This stranger held me, and as I turned to meet his green eyes, I wondered if perhaps I'd died and gone to heaven. The light from the window made his dark brown hair glow like amber, a honey-hued halo around the face of my angel.
And then, he opened his mouth and said the most captivating thing: “What kind of an idiot stands on a stool when there's a perfectly good ladder available?”
“Ladders are overrated.”
He grinned, still holding me in those amazingly strong arms. “You're a fun girl, aren't you?”
Oh, mercy, he smelled as handsome as he looked. “Not at all. I'm afraid I've made the wrong impression on you.”
I glanced around, glad the two of us were alone in the little shop. My employee was due to show up at any moment, though, and it would ruin my authority as Boss to be seen held in a handsome man's arms. “You can just set me down anywhere,” I said, even though I didn't want to be set down.
I’m not some little waif who gets picked up all the time, and I wanted him to keep holding me in his arms, like a kitten. He could even pat my head and I'd meow and purr for him.
But the moment didn’t last forever. My sandal-clad feet touched the ground, and just like that, I was evicted from heaven.
I gazed at the square-jawed stranger, wondering what captivating thing he might say next. Why was he so familiar? He couldn’t be from town, because I would have noticed him.
“Do you have a bathroom?” he asked.
“For customers only.”
We were facing each other, near the New Arrivals table, and he grabbed a book without looking.
“I'm buying this,” he said.
It was a book for ladies with bladder control issues, and included instructions for kegel muscle exercises.
“The bathroom's at the back, through the bead curtain and on the right. The light switch is in the last place you'd expect it to be.”
He raised one sexy, dark eyebrow. That face. Why did he look so familiar? He was a stranger, yet I felt instantly comfortable with him, as though I'd known him for years.
“Should I take a flashlight?” he asked. “To find the light switch?”
“Just grope around in the dark until you get lucky.”
His grin went from sly to overjoyed. “It's been a while since a hot girl's said that to me.”
Something devious took hold of me, and I said, “Would you like me to draw you a map?”
He glanced over to the window of the shop, where the outlines of people approaching could be seen.
Serious now, he said, “I'm trying to shake someone. If anyone asks for me, tell them I'm not here.” He picked up the bladder-control book, still holding my eyes with his gaze. “I'm going to get starte
d reading my new book, and I'll pay for everything when I come out, I promise.”
There was a ruckus of some sort happening just outside the front door, and people running back and forth. I saw some flashes of a camera, and then someone whizzed by with a big video camera on his shoulder.
When I turned back, Mr. Chin Dimple was already gone, to the back of the shop. I heard him curse the darkness for a few seconds, then say “Eureka!” when the light went on.
“That was odd,” I muttered to myself as I picked up the fallen stool and returned it to behind the counter.
A moment later, the front door crashed open, and a significant portion of a TV crew came rushing into Peachtree Books.
A woman with lofty, copper red hair and heavy makeup gave me a disappointed, disgusted look. “It's just a girl,” she said.
I put on my professional smile and said sweetly, “Something I can help you with?”
The woman turned her back to me and asked her heavily-panting crew, “He wouldn't come in here, would he? I doubt he's ever read a book.”
The cameraman chuckled. “Meat puppets don't need to read.”
One of the other guys, holding a boom mike, said to the cameraman, “You're just jealous 'cause you're not a pretty boy with screaming fangirls.”
The copper-haired woman with all the attitude took another look over my pride and joy, my bookstore, with her upper lip curved up in a sneer. “I thought all the bookstores were closed,” she said.
Even though I knew not to argue with people of apparent low intelligence, I said, “You're standing inside a bookstore now, so unless this is a dream, we can conclude that not all the bookstores are closed.”
“Huh?”
“Simple logic.” I flashed her my biggest grin. “Would you like to purchase some books today? We have some excellent beach reads.”
The crew was already backing up, jingling the bells on the door, and moving back out to the sidewalk. The woman wrinkled her nose and sniffed the air contemptuously. “Thanks for nothing,” she said as she backed out through the door.
Just as the door was closing, I thought of the perfect comeback. I called out, “The novels probably have too many words for you, but we do have some nice coffee table books!”
The door clicked shut, my perfect insult wasted on an empty store.
She'd really gotten under my skin, though. I couldn't be sure, but she looked exactly like a girl I went to high school with, Brie, who'd always walk up to girls and ask where they bought some article of clothing. When the unwitting victim would answer, she'd smirk and say, “Good to know,” and her dumb stuck-up friends would all laugh and laugh. She wasn’t my friend, but in a small town like Beaverdale, she was hard to avoid.
Something made a noise at the back of the shop, and I jumped in alarm.
The man came walking up, weaving his way around tall shelves crammed with books and topped with overgrown houseplants thriving under the skylight.
I held my hand to my chest, the fabric of my bridesmaid dress crinkly. “You scared me.”
His voice deep and sexy now that he seemed more relaxed, he said, “Did you already forget about me?”
“I was distracted by Little Miss Snobbypants with the film crew.”
He held up the book. “This is very informative. What do I owe you?”
I felt myself blushing under his sexy stare, so I started doing busy-work with my hands on the store's counter, stacking the Post-It notepads, putting away the passport stamp, and straightening the pens in the decorated tin can holder Kyle made for the grand re-opening of Peachtree Books after the Big Split.
“You don't really have to buy that book,” I said. “I'm sure your bladder control is just fine, and men don't have kegel muscles.”
“They don't? Well, that's not fair.”
I stared up at his beautiful green eyes, crinkled at the sides with a smile. My own eyes are blue, and they disappear more than crinkle.
Casually, I asked, “So, are you a criminal, or a celebrity?”
“Depends on who you ask.”
“You look familiar.”
His eyes traveled down my body, and I tried to suck in my gut even more, but I was already strapped into two pairs of Spanx, and my organs had nowhere left to go.
With a sexy growl to his voice, he said, “Do you always dress so fancy at work?”
“I'm going to a wedding in half an hour.”
“A wedding!” He took two steps back and gave me an appraising look, his arms crossed. He looked equally dressy, in sharply-creased gray trousers and an expensive-looking dress shirt, rolled up at the cuffs to reveal muscular arms with a smattering of dark hairs. Even his forearms looked familiar, almost as though I'd spent countless hours staring at them.
He continued, “That's a shame you're getting married, because I would have liked to ask you on a date.”
This caused me to laugh and gasp for air. “I'm not getting married, I'm a bridesmaid.”
“Ah.” He nodded. “And this is all happening shortly, so I guess I should be getting on my way.”
I glanced at the door while mentally willing him to stay. Stay forever! Just kidding. Stay for a few more minutes?
“No rush,” I said. “I'm waiting for my employee, and then I'll call for a cab.”
“My driver's nearby. I could give you a lift, as a thank you for allowing me to hide in your bathroom like a coward.”
“I'm sure you're not a coward. That reporter was nasty. I can't say I blame you for running.” I shook the pens out of the tin can, and along with them came some little bits that had been hidden, including an eraser, three gummy bears, and a square packet that was unmistakably a condom packet. There it was, right between us. SEX, SEX, SEX! Naturally, I shrieked.
The man jumped. “What is it?” He turned to the window, on the alert for reporters. “Are they back?”
I snatched the condom packet from the pile of debris, and stuffed it into my purse, which was just under the counter top.
He turned back and frowned down at the pens. “I could have sworn there were five gummy bears there a moment ago.” He grinned at me. “Did you eat two of them?”
I opened my mouth and stuck out my tongue in answer, which made him laugh. He wasn’t leaving. Maybe he would stay for a bit. Stay forever! Mwah-hah-hah!
“My name is Petra Monroe,” I said, offering him my hand. “Everyone calls me Peaches. Peaches Monroe.”
“I'm Dalton Deangelo,” he said.
Our hands connected, flesh on flesh, and something strange happened. A life flash before my eyes, only it wasn't my life. The man standing before me played a bad-boy vampire in a TV series. Drake Cheshire, two hundred years old and forever young. I hadn't recognized him without the pale makeup and contact lenses that made his eyes darker, but every tingling nerve in my body confirmed it was him.
I was shaking hands with the man Shayla referred to as Meatflaps Moistener. She’d named her vibrator Drake Cheshire. Truth be told, I would have too, if I was fun enough to own one.
My mouth filled with water, and the bookstore went dim, like someone had shut off the lights. My consciousness closed to a pinhole, and the only thing keeping me from fainting was the warm sensation of Dalton's hand on mine.
Through the fog, I heard his voice, saying, “Why isn't your date picking you up for the wedding?”
Swallowing hard, I swam back to reality. “I don't have a date. Or a boyfriend.”
Oh, those eyes! That face! Those biceps. I couldn't see them through his shirt, but I'd seen them on TV a hundred times, because they always found an excuse for Drake to be shirtless and emotional.
“You shouldn't have to go to a wedding dateless,” he said.
“I do most everything dateless, so I'll probably survive.”
“I have an idea.” He grabbed the pens on the counter and stacked them into the pen holder. “You won't have to go alone, because I'll arrange for a date for you. That is, if it's not too late to add a plus-one. I wouldn
't want to foul up the seating arrangements.”
“Oh, Drake—um, Mr. Deangelo, I couldn't ask you to do that. You probably have a very busy life and lots of things to do tonight.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Me? Oh, no. I was going to send my butler. He's very cute from the eyebrows up. Completely gay, of course, but he'll look nice in the photos.”
I crossed my arms. “Your butler?” What the Fudgeeo cookies was this shit?
He laughed. “I knew it! You're even more adorable when you're angry. Oh, Peaches. I'm sorry I said such a thing. Can you forgive me?”
I backed away. “You know, I have to keep my eyes open.”
“And?”
“My eyes are open, and I think I should get a taxi.”
His head hung, and he took a few more steps back, moving toward the door.
“I guess I was being foolish,” he said. “It's just that I was back there, in your washroom, and you had all those beautiful engravings back there, with the poems and inspirations. And I've only been inside this bookstore for a few minutes, really, but I've never felt so warm and welcome, and I don't think it's the books or the funny little Buddha statue over there, or the Chinese good luck cat, but I think it's you. It's you, Peaches. You're surrounded by light and goodness, and I want to bask in your aura, be in your presence. So, I'm going to ask you, formally and properly, like I should have in the first place. Peaches, can I take you on a date? I'd love to go to this wedding and be your date, or if that's too bold, maybe we can get a coffee tomorrow?”
Eyes open. Eyes open.
Yes, my eyes were open, and my brain was working, saying go ahead.
“Fine,” I said. “You can be my date for the wedding. You'll be bored to tears within an hour, and you can duck out early if you'd like.”
“And do what?”
“Let's just start with the wedding.”
He clapped his hands together. “Great. Shall I pop out and get a gift, or do you have that covered?”
Just then, the door jingled open and my employee, Amy, came running in, apologizing for being late. The fair-skinned girl with bright blue hair ran around the counter, tossed her purse next to mine, looked up at Dalton Deangelo, screamed, and fainted into my arms.
