by Jewel E. Ann
“Why?”
“I just told you.”
“Live with them. Sleep in the same bed. Have lots of sex. Hold hands. Make meals together. Whatever … but why the need to be legally bound to them like property?”
“Well, for one … religion.”
“A lot of religious marriages end in divorce. So what do those vows really mean if you’re not truly staying together forever? Is it just a certificate to have sex? Is it just the marriage-before-sex thing? Seems like a lot of time and effort just to rub genitals.”
I snorted a laugh. “Now I know why you’re not married.”
“Don’t you worry about it. I have a romantic side.”
“Not worried. Don’t care.”
He disappeared around a display. “I’m thirty.”
I cringed. Thirty … I had sex dreams about a thirty-year-old.
Kael’s head poked around the corner, and he grinned. “I know you’ve been dying to know my age.”
“Dying is a strong word. But don’t think it means I’m going to tell you my age.”
“I don’t care about your age. But … you have three kids in college, and you said you got pregnant pretty young, so you have to be in your early forties.”
“So … does no marriage mean no kids for you?”
He removed his beanie, revealing his messy dark hair, and he tried on an Epperly baseball cap. “Humans suck at conserving. We like to overconsume and pop out kids. It’s not sustainable. So … no kids.”
“Maybe you should have been a priest.”
Kael smirked, still wearing the Epperly hat. “I like sex too much.”
Squinting, I pointed a finger at him. “I knew it wasn’t really marriage that bothers you the most. It’s monogamy.”
“It’s mating for life, and they’re often one and the same. But they don’t have to be. There are open marriages. There are also people who never get married but choose to be with the same person for life. Freedom of choice. That’s why I’m a little anti-marriage. If I’m going to be with someone, I want it to be a conscious choice every day. ’Til death do us part is a little crazy in my mind.”
“So if one day you don’t want to be with them … that’s it? All over? A small fight means you’re done?”
“I don’t think people get divorced because of a fight. They get divorced because of all the little stuff that adds up over time. And why wouldn’t it add up over time? You agreed to forever to be with this person. No rush to call them out on their shit or vice versa.”
He had no idea how hard those words hit me. Four people … only four people knew.
Kael edged his way closer to the checkout. “My friend Meg from high school left her husband after five years of marriage. The first two were good, the last three were miserable because they were married, and that little legal document made them feel accountable. Her word. Mine would be guilty. He died six months ago from a stroke. The last time I saw her she said, ‘I miss him, but only because there are fifty unfinished projects around our house.’”
The corners of my mouth quirked. Another woman being brutally honest about her feelings.
Kael started piling stuff onto my counter.
“What are you doing?”
“Buying some things. Isn’t this a store?”
Yes. It was a store that had been open for thirty minutes on a Sunday during the holidays and no customers—even with the competition closed.
“Thought you didn’t eat this stuff?”
He held up a roll of beef sausage. “This good?”
“Not sure. I haven’t tried it.”
His right eyebrow lifted a fraction. “How about that cheese?” He nodded toward the tub of cheddar he’d set on the counter.
“Do you want Elsie’s answer or Mrs. Smith’s, owner of the store, answer?”
“You don’t eat the stuff you sell?” His hazel eyes widened.
“Again, do you want Elsie’s answer or Mrs. Smith’s, owner of the store, answer?”
Pinning me with his unblinking gaze, he held out his hand. “Scissors.”
“What are you doing?”
“Just give me some scissors.”
I retrieved scissors from the top drawer and handed them to him. He snipped the closure to the beef stick and peeled back the wrapping before holding it to my face. “Take a bite and tell me if I should buy it for my dad.”
My nose wrinkled and I stepped back. “It’s one of our best sellers.”
“Thank you, Mrs. Smith. But right now, I want Elsie to taste this and tell me what she thinks of it.”
I drank lemon water every morning. I ate mostly whole foods that didn’t need a label. My meat consumption was borderline vegan. That roll of meat had enough sodium in it to give half the town of Epperly a stroke.
“You will pay for that since you opened it.”
“You should take a bite, have a food orgasm, and cut up the rest as samples for your customers, so they can have a food orgasm too.”
My comeback readied itself as I glared at him—a racehorse eager at the gate, but the bell never sounded. Customers? What customers?
“I think it’s alarming that we’ve had four encounters and you’ve used the word orgasm twice.”
Amusement played along his lips. “I think it’s notable that you’re keeping a record of our encounters. If you would have asked me to put a number to it in less than a second, I wouldn’t have been able to do it. I’m flattered, Mrs. Smith.”
My formal name coming from him sounded dirty and forbidden, like a student hot for their teacher. It made my whole face wrinkle in disgust. Kael was twelve years my junior. I could have been his teacher.
I snatched the partially opened beef stick from his hand and scanned it along with the other items on the counter before shoving them into a bag. “Eighty-two dollars and ninety-five cents.”
Kael held a cocky expression on his face that leaned toward complete amusement. “It’s like a chef who won’t eat her own food. A baker not tasting the batter.” He tapped his credit card on the reader.
My eyes wanted to roll, but I remained visually unaffected as I handed him the receipt. “Have a nice day.”
Kael plucked the receipt from my hand and dropped it into the bag. “We haven’t discussed cross-promotion yet.”
“I think we stick with fad food and classics since you like that word.”
“Fad food? You mean healthier food?”
“I mean overpriced trendy food.”
His lips parted as if to speak, but nothing came out for several seconds. “Why do I sense anger in your words? Have I done something wrong?”
The nerve …
“Epperly is a small town, in case you haven’t noticed, so someone opening a specialty food store across the street from mine doesn’t exactly make me happy.”
He chuckled and scratched his scruffy neck. “In case you haven’t noticed, we don’t exactly sell the same products. You don’t see decorative tins of popcorn and tubs of cheese piled on my shelves, do you?”
“That’s not the point.” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You sell specialty food items that people buy for gifts. So if Joe Blow wants to buy his wife a gift for Christmas, he’s going to either buy something from your store or something from my store, but it’s unlikely he makes purchases at both places.”
After a few unreadable blinks, he smiled. “Joe Blow lives in Epperly? The famous Joe Blow?”
My scowl intensified.
“Do Jane and John Doe live here too? What about the Joneses? Mr. and Mrs. X? I bet Mr. and Mrs. Buttinski live here for sure or at least have a vacation home here.”
“I’m going to take you down.” Yeah, those words fell from my lips. When I heard them, I didn’t recognize my own voice. Who was that woman boiling over with anger?
“Take me down?” He laughed. “Okay. Just be careful. Women your age can easily break their hips.”
Women your age?!
“You are nothing but a wolf in sheep�
��s clothing, and I’m going to expose you to the whole town until they run you out!”
For real. Who was that woman saying such crazy things? Adrenaline hijacked my brain until the craziest nonsense shot from my mouth. But I couldn’t take it back. I had to own it.
His expression morphed from playful to the way one looked at a lunatic. “Um … okay.” He shrugged. “I mean … I do like a good wool sweater and warm socks.”
“Get out.” I tipped my chin up as my eyes narrowed into pinpoints.
His smirky lips rubbed together before he zipped up his coat, grabbed his bag, and sauntered out the door. The bell dinged and a gust of cool air swept through the store, diluting the potent cinnamon scent from the potpourri.
It didn’t help my insane case when he made a point to smile and greet every person he encountered in the square like he’d never met a stranger. They loved him, falling hard for his superhero charm. That was it. I needed to be more charming.
And I needed to bone up on my marketing skills to outsmart him. Sometimes products sold themselves, but more often, genius marketing was what made people open their wallets during the holidays.
And for the love of my future mental health, I needed to stop with the sex dreams.
Chapter Eight
I married a slurper, and now I want to murder him every morning.
* * *
“It’s sexual tension.”
I rammed my elbow into Amie’s arm on our brisk walk at seven in the morning—coats, boots, yoga pants, warm headbands, and Meadow pulling the hell out of my non-ramming arm. “There is nothing sexual about us. I’m twelve years older than him. He’s trying to run me out of business. And …”
“And? That’s it? Age and free enterprise?”
“Free enterprise? Don’t say it like that. In a big city, it’s free enterprise. In Epperly, it’s ruthless thievery. He’s stealing my customers! There are not enough people in this town to keep both of us in business.”
“And that’s a bad thing?”
My head whipped to the side, and I pumped my arms harder as Meadow propelled forward. The smell of exhaust gagged me when a diesel truck barreled down the road past us, tires kicking up moisture and sand left from our first snow of the season. “Is what a bad thing? Going out of business?”
“You want out, and you know it. This could be your chance. No one would blame you. It’s life. Out with the old, in with the new. Established businesses go under all the time because someone with a better idea, a better product, comes along.”
“Craig kept it going. Maybe I need to offer free shipping on all orders—expand our delivery. Not that anyone is buying anything to be shipped or delivered. We’ve had less than ten monthly box subscriptions this whole year. The. Whole. Year!”
“That’s your ego, Elsie. The signs are everywhere. You’re not Craig. You don’t live and breathe that store, and people know that.”
“Craig’s parents don’t know that.”
“His mom has cholesterol off the charts, and his dad has lost most of his hearing and struggles with dementia. The truth? They need to be in assisted living. You think they’re sitting around all day thinking about the store they had years ago, but they’re not. They’re focused on taking their pills every day and remembering where they put the TV remote.”
“Now you sound like Craig.” I frowned.
“He wasn’t wrong. You have this innate need and capacity to take care of people and nurture them. But sometimes you forget to nurture yourself.”
“That’s what I was trying to do and look how that turned out.”
“So you stumbled. Get up and try again.”
I laughed. “Stumbled? I vented all my anger to my husband, he stormed out and died in a car accident, and you call that a stumble?”
Amie grabbed my arm and pulled me to a halt, facing her while Meadow tried to keep going by ripping off my other arm. “Everybody dies, Elsie. And few die at the perfect time … if there is such a thing. You want to talk about thievery? Let me introduce you to a little monster called regret. The last thing it wants is for you to be happy. If you let it, it will ravage your soul. There’s always more to be said, one last kiss, one last hug. Don’t go to bed angry. Don’t walk out the door with anything unsettled. Don’t fucking blink. Don’t be human. If you live your life in fear, it’s not a real life. Fear will rob your joy. Regret will cripple your happiness. Let. It. Go.”
It had been a while since I cried over Craig, but Amie pulled a few tears out of me. “Maybe I don’t deserve joy and happiness.”
She released my arm and took a step back, slowly shaking her head. “Then drive your car off a bridge. Slit your writs. Put a bullet in your head. Find yourself worthy, or stop taking up space and stealing precious oxygen.”
Swallowing hard, my emotions doubled. Hot tears raced down my cold cheeks. Watery snot slid over my lips.
“You are loved, Elsie. And the people who love you want nothing more than for you to love yourself.” She pressed her mittens to my cheeks as redness filled her eyes. “Live, Elsie. Truly live.”
“K,” I managed past the lump in my throat just as she hugged me.
“And have sex. Lots of middle-aged, carefree, sex.”
My laugh came out as a partial sob.
“The cafe has hot cider today. I’m going to get one. Can I get you one too?” I asked Kandi as she stared aimlessly around the empty store.
We’d been open three hours and only one customer had come in … to return something.
“I’m good, but thanks.”
“I won’t be gone long.”
“Take your time.” She winced the second the words left her mouth.
The elephant in the room.
She could do the math. The shop was losing money … paying her to babysit an idle door.
I grabbed a hot cider and made a casual stroll around the square.
“Spying on your competition?”
“Jeez!” I jumped and some of my hot cider spit out from the lid.
Bella cringed at the cider on my gloved hand. “Sorry. Figured you heard me coming up behind you.”
“Well, I didn’t.” I wiped off my glove and licked the pooled cider on the lid. “Why aren’t you in school?”
“It was an early out day. Thought I’d help out at the shop, but you weren’t there. Kandi said you went for cider. And where are all the customers?”
“Here.” I scowled through the window of What Did You Expect? as we inched our way along the sidewalk.
“Jaden said the owner is hot. Let’s have a look.”
My arm dove for hers, but it was too late. She pulled open the door, drawing attention to us.
“Whoa …” she whispered as the enemy eyed us for a brief moment before returning his attention to the mile-long line of customers. “This place is so cool.”
“So cool. Sure, Bella. Because you know so much about spices, vinegars, and olive oils. It’s overpriced and impractical. Who wants vinegar in their Christmas stocking?”
Truth? I loved everything at his store. That was why I hated him so much. It was complicated.
“Well, they have chocolate.” She glanced over her shoulder and winked at me before plucking a sample square from the dish. “Mmm … better than sex.”
I pinched the skin on the back of her arm through her jacket.
“Ouch! What?”
“Could you lower your voice a few notches. And how would you know what sex is like?” I murmured close to her ear.
“Um … how do you think?” Bella scuffed her Ugg boots along the wood parquet floor.
“You’ve had sex?”
“Shh …” Bella hissed while continuing to peruse the aisles. “Now who needs to lower her voice?”
“Can I help you ladies with anything?”
I kept my back to Kael, but my sexually active teenager spun around and batted her eyelashes at him like I used to do to her dad.
“You must be Bella.” How awesome of him to reme
mber her name.
“Yes.” She unzipped her jacket, pulled back her shoulders, thus shoving out her chest, and offered her hand.
My jaw dropped at her brazen little move. Did I raise a hussy? Of course, I loved her more than life, but the thought did enter my mind.
“I’m Kael. It’s nice to meet you.” He shook her hand.
Bella giggled.
Whoa!
Why was she giggling?
And why was he holding her hand for so long? And looking at her like he’d looked at me?
“Nice to meet you too.” She tipped her chin to her chest and cocked her head to the side. Things were not good. Not good at all.
I cleared my throat and eyed their joined hands. “It’s the start of flu season. I’m not sure handshaking is advised by the CDC.”
The human mom had no boundaries when it came to protecting her young. And Bella was young and in need of protection from the vegetable-named gawker giving her way too much attention. We needed to get out of there and go straight to the doctor for pregnancy and STD testing. I knew it would happen. I knew Craig’s overprotectiveness and shaming at church would drive her in the direction of promiscuity. He refused to let her be on birth control, and religion taught abstinence.
“Sorry, Mrs. Smith.” He released her hand.
I glared at him through narrowed eyes for a few seconds when Bella wasn’t looking at me.
“I love your store. It’s so modern and … clean.”
Clean? Was my daughter implying my store was dirty?
“Thanks. We basically gutted the inside, left the exposed ceilings and duct work to give it a modern feel, and added more windows. I laid the flooring myself.” He tapped it with his foot.
“It’s beautiful.” Bella dropped her gaze to admire it.
“The carpet we removed was the most disgusting thing I’d ever seen. Talk about bad vibes from the moment you walk into a store.”
Bella laughed. “See, Mom … maybe if you’d get rid of the carpet, more people would come to the store.”
After her pregnancy and STD tests, we were going to talk about her lack of respect for the business that fed her for eighteen years.
