Henry pulls into town, parking just out front of one of the town’s oldest microbreweries. I hesitate getting out of the truck, checking my hair in the mirror on the back of the visor and then lower my sunglasses to prevent being as easily recognized.
“Firefly,” Henry says with a grin as he opens my door.
I jump out, landing oddly in my cowboy boots. Luckily, Henry’s body catches me as his arm secures me in place. “Thanks,” I return, feeling less than graceful compared to when I’m sporting four-inch heels in New York.
“Welcome,” he replies.
I push away from him, needing less physical contact even though my nose takes in an extra pull of his scent. If this continues any longer, we just might hump the shit out of each other right here for anyone to see.
When I’m out of the way, Henry closes the door and slowly gets to the curb. I follow closely, unsure of where he wants to go. My head bounces around, hoping no one in particular notices that we’re together. This town thrives on drama. The rumors and gossip spread like butter on fresh, hot cornbread fresh out of the oven.
He opens the door to the microbrewery and I offer a puzzled look. “Isn’t it a bit early for a drink?” I inspect.
“I got to pick something up from Tyrell,” Henry states. “Plus, I know he’ll want to witness it for himself that you’re back in town. That, and he hasn’t seen you for a long while.”
“I don’t want anyone to know I’m back in town,” I claim uneasily, looking down at my boots.
“It’s a little late for that, Firefly,” Henry chuckles.
“What do you need to pick up?” I pry, walking past him. I look back when he doesn’t answer me. Henry offers a smile, but nothing else.
“Woo wee! Well, spank me with a horse whip and call me Seabiscuit,” Tyrell exclaims with an overly exaggerated Southern accent as he comes out from behind the bar. “Ms. Ivy Lynn Abney is actually back in tiny, ol’ Blackburn, Georgia.”
Tyrell never really had an accent and I can’t tell if he’s developed one after all these years or is fucking with me just like we used to do with townies when we were young. I pray silently for the latter.
I smile. “Hey, Tyrell,” I greet with an uncomfortable wave.
“Get your sweet ass over here and give me a hug, woman,” he directs. “Else I’ll have Henry take you over his knee and give you a good, few spankings.”
I shuffle toward him, nervous from the threat.
“She might like that,” Henry chuckles.
“I’m sure she would,” Tyrell goads.
If these boys only knew what I’ve come to like in bed, they’d be locking the door and begging for a three-way. Well, Tyrell would be up for it, but I’m not so sure Henry would. I bite back a smirk, trying to not give anything away.
“There she is,” Tyrell says, wrapping his big arms around me. He lifts me off the ground, twirling me in the air.
“You got bigger,” I state, noticing his muscles.
“Most men here get bigger in the gut,” Tyrell claims once he puts me down. “Men like Henry and me get bigger in the muscles.” Tyrell lifts one of his arms to show me his gun while he keeps the other curled around my waist.
“I don’t know,” I muse. “I think Tyrell’s got more than you, Henry.”
“Oh, how I’ve missed your sweet sass,” Tyrell announces, kissing my cheek. He picks me up and twirls me around again. “Look out Blackburn, Ms. Ivy Lynn Abney is back.”
“We’re about the same,” Henry defends.
When Tyrell puts me back on my feet, I jab, “I never said bigger was always better.”
“That’s not what the ladies say when I drop trou,” Tyrell laughs.
I snicker, though Henry seems unamused.
“Whatcha need?” Tyrell asks while hovering close to me.
Ever since we were known to be an item, Tyrell always teased Henry, claiming that he was going to steal me away. It was all in good fun, but I knew how it bothered Henry sometimes. Clearly, it still does. What most don’t understand is that another man didn’t steal me away, a whole city did.
“Just the stuff we talked about,” Henry says vaguely.
“Oh, right,” Tyrell replies. “Follow me into the office.”
Henry nods to him and then looks at me. “I’ll be just a minute and then we can go.”
“So, you two are an item again?” Tyrell probes. “Girl, you move fast.”
“She’s just back to pay respects,” Henry defends.
“Mm-hm,” Tyrell replies with a smile and wink meant for me. “I wouldn’t doubt it if y’all tapped each other’s asses last night.”
I bite back a smile.
“Wouldn’t tell you even if we did,” Henry states calmly.
“I know,” Tyrell chuckles. “But, I’m sure it’s true. You two could never keep your hands off of each other for long anytime she did come back.”
“People change,” I remark.
“People, yes,” Tyrell says. “Henry and Ivy don’t.”
I look away, not wanting to confirm or deny anything. There’s truth to his words, which is part of the reason why I left and stayed away. If I had stayed or came back on occasion, Henry and I would have continued to cheat while he was married to Julianna. If I stayed long enough, he might not have ever married her, but I still needed New York.
The boys disappear in the back, leaving me alone in the bar. I casually stroll around the large room, checking out the decor and the different beers they have on tap. I’m impressed with how small towns, or should I say some businesses in small towns, are influencing the big cities with their homey, country style and flair.
“Ready?” Henry suddenly says, low in my ear.
I jump slightly from being caught off guard.
“What?” Tyrell snaps. “You need to at least have a beer…and a shot.”
I check my phone, and reply, “It’s ten in the morning.”
“So?” Tyrell snorts. “It’s happy hour somewhere.”
“Later,” Henry says.
“I just tapped a new keg last night,” Tyrell states.
“A new keg or a new chick?” I goad.
Tyrell smiles. “Just like ol’ times with you Ivy. Seems like New York hasn’t changed you much at all.”
“Nope,” Henry agrees.
“How about a raincheck?” I inquire with a smile, biting back a defense about how much I’ve changed.
“Only if I get to do a shot off of your hot ass body, girl,” Tyrell returns slyly.
“Sure,” I agree.
“Damn, the years just keep making you hotter. I bet you have to fight off all the boys up there in the big city,” Tyrell states.
“The men too,” I tease.
Henry scowls and Tyrell laughs.
“Girl, I bet the women either envy you or want to fuck you too,” Tyrell resumes.
“Right,” I chuckle nervously.
“So, is that a yes to them wanting to fuck you?” Tyrell pries, looking back and forth between Henry and me. “‘Cause that would be hot.”
“Not telling,” I reply with a devious smile.
Henry’s expression is that of curiosity, but also a hint of nervousness at the same time.
“Great to see you, Tyrell,” I shout, walking toward the door. “If you’re ever up in New York, I’ll take you out and you can find out for yourself.”
“I will. You can count on it. It’s great seeing that ass shake as you walk away,” Tyrell teases.
I give it a little shimmy when I push the door open, not bothering to look back over my shoulder at him or Henry. The two of them haven’t changed. Tyrell is still lusting after me, though playfully, while Henry is fuming and possessive.
“What the hell was that?” Henry asks sharply when he finds me walking past his truck.
“What?” I feign, holding back a snicker.
“A body shot and you wiggling your ass,” he presses with a serious tone.
I continue to walk, not bothering
to give into Henry’s jealousy. “First of all,” I preface, looking both ways before striding across the street toward the bank, wanting to pop in and say hi to Papa. “I agreed, but I never said when it would happen. And secondly, what about me shaking my ass?”
“You’ll give him the wrong idea,” Henry claims.
“And what, pray tell, kind of an idea is that?” I inquire, trying not to laugh.
“That you’re available,” Henry states.
“Who says that I am or not?” I quip, looking back at him as I continue to walk backward. “Just because we had sex last night, doesn’t mean I’m yours, Henry Lee.”
Henry stops in the street a few feet from the curb. His mouth falls open and I can see that I’ve wounded him a little.
“Besides,” I continue. “How do you know that ass shake was for him?”
I practically skip the last few feet to the bank’s front door.
“Who’d you shake it for?” Henry checks, closing in on me.
I open the door, not waiting for him or any other man to do it for me. I prop it open with my ass, waiting for him to enter. Right as Henry gets close enough, I say, “Myself.”
10 Henry
“You shouldn't just walk across a busy street like that,” I scold Ivy as my way to act like I’m not hurt by her answer. I wanted her to admit that she shook her ass for me. I still think she did but said she didn’t admit it to most likely fuck with me rather than tell me the truth.
“You shouldn’t be telling a lady what she can and can’t do,” Ivy quips.
“I never told you couldn’t. I just said that you shouldn’t,” I correct.
“I always have. What’s the difference?” she teases, walking toward her father.
“You’re precious cargo,” I admit sheepishly.
“She sure is,” Mr. Abney agrees.
“Hey, Papa,” Ivy greets.
“Hey, Sweetpea.“ Mr. Abney looks to me. “How you holdin’ up, boy?” he asks when he releases Ivy from his embrace.
“Good, sir. Thanks,” I reply.
Mr. Abney wraps his arms around me, embracing me like I’m a member of the family. I’m not so sure he’d be happy to hug me if he knew what I did to his daughter last night and plan to do later.
“Henry’s sweatin’ bullets, Papa,” Ivy teases.
“Yeah, why so?” Mr. Abney searches.
“Thought you might have been driving down the road with your shotgun aimed at him,” Ivy giggles.
I glower at her until Mr. Abney looks back at me. I offer a forced smile, hoping he’ll not bother trying to find out why I was temporarily nervous.
“Now, why would I do such a thing?” Mr. Abney asks.
“Oh, I don’t know,” Ivy muses. “Might have something to do with what Grady was claiming this morning.”
My eyes bug out of my head, not amused by her sass.
“Oh, pish posh,” Mr. Abney huffs. “My little girl doesn’t do those kinds of things.”
“That’s right,” I choke out.
“How would you know what we’re talking about?” Mr. Abney pries with a grin.
“I…um…I,” I mutter. “I’ll be outside waiting for you, Ivy.” I rush toward the front, not enjoying how she trapped me.
“You should have seen your face,” Ivy laughs when she finds me leaning against the bank’s brick wall a few minutes later. “I swear you were gonna piss yourself.”
“Not funny,” I say, yanking her toward me. I direct her around the back of the building, out of the way from passerby's on the road, using some trees and bushes to hide us. Ivy continues to giggle until I’ve got her pressed between me and the building.
“Aw…did I hurt your feelings?” she teases.
“No,” I lie. “I just wasn’t interested in your Pa fucking me up today.”
“Papa would never with you,” she states with a proud smile. “Remember…he likes you.”
“Wasn’t so sure about that after I broke his daughter’s heart,” I reply.
Ivy’s smile fades quickly. “No one knows what happened,” she states, looking down.
“Firefly,” I call gently, running my fingers down her cheek. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to….” I let out a huff. “Fuck.”
Her green eyes return to mine, but their sparkle has faded. I hate knowing that I’m the cause of their dullness. Without caring, without thinking, I press my lips to hers. Ivy’s mouth follows mine when I slowly peel away. Her soft, warm hand pulls my face back toward hers.
“I’m sorry too,” she says when our lips part.
“For what?” I ask stupidly.
“For teasing you,” she answers. “I know you don’t like it.”
I lean to kiss her again, but she blocks me.
“We need to go slow,” she directs. “A lot has happened. We need to know if this…whatever it is…will work.”
“Yeah,” I huff, hating that she’s right.
“Plus, I don’t want rumors about us…regardless how it all turns out,” she adds.
“I don’t give a fuck about rumors, but I’ll respect your wishes,” I confirm.
“Thanks,” she returns with a small smile before slipping out from between me and the building.
“Still no plans for today?” I check, following her back across the street.
“None in particular,” she replies. “Why?”
I nod and an idea pops into my head. Ivy says she wants to take things slow, so that’s what we’ll do and I know just how to do it. “Come on,” I call, grabbing her wrist and towing her behind me.
“Where?” Ivy inquires as her feet scurry to keep up.
“You’ll see,” I return, determined to surprise her.
When we get to the ticket booth, Ivy whines,” No.”
“Yep,” I affirm.
“No,” she repeats. “It’s cheesy.”
“We need cheesy right now,” I say, paying for two tickets.
“I don’t want to,” she claims, walking away.
“I already bought the tickets,” I insist, following her and then dragging her to the waiting area.
“Then pick up some random tourist and take her,” she instructs, trying to get away.
“I don’t want to,” I challenge, getting a hold of her arm.
“We promised we’d never do any of the town attractions,” she whines.
“We always went to the fair,” I remind.
“The fair was different,” she claims.
“You won’t like the other option,” I remark with a grin.
“Other option?” she asks nervously.
I offer a wicked smile and lean in real close. “It’s either the train or…I carry you back to one of the cabin rentals and fuck you senseless to make up for all of the years we’ve lost.” I pull back just to see her reaction.
The spark has returned to her eyes, making them shine like emeralds. Ivy’s voice cracks before she’s able to utter a word. “T…train. The train,” she mumbles, clearing her throat. “The train sounds like a great idea.”
“Too bad,” I reply, not stepping away from her body. She may be saying the word train, but I know her body is screaming for us to be together. “Maybe another day.”
Ivy nods, unable to speak.
We stand around, waiting for the next train to be brought to the station. Ivy keeps her distance while we wait and once we board, but I can feel how she’s drawn to me and my body. She wants me. She needs me. It’s just a matter of time before her body completely takes over and we’re making love again.
Ivy stares out the window most of the ride, which I don’t mind. Strands of her dark hair whip around, dancing to their own seductive beat. Her lips are parted slightly, begging to be kissed and sucked. Her breasts bounce to every little bump in the track, making me harder by the second. Ivy’s skin looks so smooth and flawless and I can’t wait to have her naked and pressed against me again.
“Where do you want to eat?” I ask her when the train lets us off at Copperhi
ll for two hours. I know she’s starving and so am I. If I don’t get something to eat, I’ll be ripping off her clothes any second.
“Um, burgers sound good,” Ivy says, pointing to one of the restaurants.
I’m sure she’s just as physically jacked as I am. There were a lot of people on the train which caused us to have to sit close together. Even if there weren’t many people, I would have still sat that close. I know it didn’t help either of us when I’d trail a finger down her arm or up her bare leg toward the edges of her jean shorts.
Ivy is the kind of woman who could wear any outfit and look sexy as hell. She could wear a garbage bag and still make me, or any other man, desire her.
I love how I can still touch her in certain places like I used to, to elicit the perfect response. We might have changed over the years, but we haven’t changed that much. I can tell when she’s fighting with her body, not wanting to give in. Her nipples will poke through even her thickest of bras, goosebumps will rise on her skin, and her chest pulses a little more.
“Burgers,” I confirm, sliding my hand across her hip and onto her ass.
I know that we’re safe from anyone knowing us here, so I can be more forward, physical, and playful. I hope that Ivy’s up for some fun because I don’t plan on keeping my hands off of her, let alone stop flirting.
We sit opposite of each other in a booth, knowing that if we sit side by side, we’ll fuck each other on the table, not caring who witnesses it. We have that effect on each other and I fucking love it.
I lean back in my side while Ivy hovers over the menu, trying to decide what to get. “Just get the burger and fries,” I suggest, knowing that that’s what she really wants.
“I should get a salad,” she replies, not looking up at me.
“Doesn’t matter what you eat, Firefly,” I say, waiting for her gaze to lift. “Anything you put in your mouth will turn me on.”
“Do you know what you want?” the older waitress asks, not bothering to tell us her name or see if we need a minute.
“A pop, a cheese burger, well done, with fries,” I answer with a smile. “Ivy?”
“No one calls it pop, weirdo,” Ivy states.
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