by Pippa Grant
“Do I need to get behind you and show you how to handle that joystick?” she asks.
Did she just…
She did. She made a sex joke. I arch a brow in her direction. “Cassandra Sunderwell, have you been practicing your dirty talk?”
She lifts her chin, her cheeks that shade of pink that’s both adorable and a little heartbreaking. I wish there was something I could do to help make her more at ease with talking about sex and sex toys and all the rest of it.
“No,” she says, “but I’ve been doing…other things. Sexy type things…”
Forget the beers and the Ms. Pac-Man. We’re getting out of here and going to my place right now.
Before the sheriff arrests me for indecency.
I turn to tell her we’re leaving as Blake emerges from the back hallway. “Hey, there you two are. You get a beer yet, Ry? Gonna need it. You’re up next for karaoke.”
“No, we’re—” I start, but Cassie claps her hands.
“Oh, good! I love karaoke. Thanks, Blake. You’re officially my second-favorite O’Dell brother.”
“And you’re my first official favorite O’Dell brother girlfriend,” he replies.
Cassie doesn’t correct him.
Neither do I.
And five minutes later, we’re both being shuffled to the stage. “Are you sure you want to karaoke with me? I’m not great.”
“Good. That’s the trick,” she whispers. “You sing really badly, and then they don’t ever ask you to do it again. We’re doing Three Dog Night’s ‘Joy To The World.’ Do you know that one?”
“Jeremiah was a bullfrog? Of course.”
“Awesome. Follow my lead, and sing really, really bad.”
I laugh and I follow her lead.
And we sing really, really badly.
So badly, we get booed off the stage.
But it comes with a round of nachos on the house to thank us for shutting up, and then Ruthie May buys us a round, followed by Blake buying us another round, and before long, we’re both tipsy.
Laughing.
Telling stories about childhood.
Recreating our scenes from Romeo and Juliet without actually remembering any of our lines except the one that comes right before the kiss.
And for the first time in a long time, there’s nowhere else in the world I’d rather be. Even as it becomes clear that I’m not taking Cassie home while we’re both buzzed, I’m so damned happy I can’t stop smiling.
“Incoming!” A sudden shout from the front of the bar makes us all turn to face the entrance to see two teenage girls tossing dildos at a couple of Stetson-wearing boys at a front booth.
“Five points!” one shouts, high-fiving the other, who giggles as she points to the now pink-cheeked cowboys. “You should see your face! Three extra points our team for blushing on the sidelines.”
“Won’t be on the sidelines for long,” the blond boy says, grabbing the dildos from his chip basket and heading out the door, chasing the girls down the street with a grin.
The remaining boy thunks a palm against his forehead in mortification and everyone around us bursts into giggles. Including Cassie, but she also puts her hands to her cheeks. Even inebriated, the unexpected dildo assault makes her blush.
And suddenly, I know exactly what I have to do about that.
A plan takes shape in my head, and it’s so perfect, I can’t wait to start putting it into action.
And I will.
Just as soon as I’ve walked my tipsy girl home and tucked her safely into bed.
Nineteen
From the texts of Cassie Sunderwell and
Savannah Sunderwell
Cassie: I’m going to ask you three questions, and I need you to say yes to all of them.
* * *
Savannah: Yes.
* * *
Cassie: You have to hear them first!
* * *
Savannah: Why? If you need me to say yes, then I have to say yes, so why ask me the questions in the first place? And honestly, I’d rather not hear the questions if they have anything to do with Sunshine Toys.
I saw what happened.
The Dildo-pocalypse in the square.
It made the news all the way over here. My new boss is going to flip out if he realizes I’m the “idiot American” who thought starting a sex toy business in a small town was a good idea.
* * *
Cassie: Hold the phone and wait just a second. What are you talking about? What new boss? You’re the boss!
* * *
Savannah: No, you’re the boss, an arrangement we both agreed to when I decided to run away from home. But it’s okay if the operation fails, Cass. I seriously don’t mind. I’ll just quietly go bankrupt and start over.
* * *
Cassie: No one is going bankrupt! That’s what I’m texting about. I’ve got an idea that might save the company! Maybe even make it more profitable than ever before!
* * *
Savannah: That’s great. As soon as you start making big bucks, I’ll sign the entire operation over to you so you can reap the rewards of your hard work. Until such time, however, we should keep everything in my name so I don’t drag you down into the gutter with me.
* * *
Cassie: No one’s going to the gutter. We’re going to the playground.
* * *
Savannah: You lost me… But in a weirdly appropriate way since I happen to be at a playground right now with the adorable little girl I’m nannying. Kids love slides, Cassie. Like…LOVE them a ridiculous amount.
* * *
Cassie: Well, of course they do. What’s not to love about a slide? And you’re a nanny? How on earth did that happen? Have you ever spent quality time with children? In your entire life?
* * *
Savannah: No, I haven’t. Not even when I was a kid. I was always working or hiding out with you in my trailer because we were the weirdos from the South who didn’t fit in with the Hollywood elite.
I’m sad that we missed so much slide time.
I feel especially bad that you missed so much of it on my account. You should have been able to run wild and free, big sister, and slide to your heart’s content. Do you hate me for stealing your childhood?
* * *
Cassie: You didn’t steal my childhood! Lol. Don’t be crazy. I had a great time on set with you. Well, most of the time, except that summer I farted in front of the stunt double I liked after eating too many burritos from the food truck.
And I never would have learned to code if I hadn’t been in L.A. They didn’t have summer coding classes in Happy Cat back then.
* * *
Savannah: They still don’t, do they?
* * *
Cassie: Hmmm… Maybe not. That’s something I should check into. These kids need a leg up on getting with the times. Though they are a creative group. The rules this group of teen girls just texted me for Dildo Football are hysterical. I’ll have to call it something different in the app, though. Give it a snappier name, add in some extra levels, maybe a dildo doing a touchdown dance when you score.
* * *
Savannah: What are you talking about? Do you have a fever? What’s all this talk of frolicking with dildos? Not that I don’t approve, you know I do, but you’re giving me whiplash.
* * *
Cassie: I know, I’m still a little uncomfortable with it all, but it’s how I’m going to save the company! I’m going to gamify your advertising by making a Sunshine Toys app packed with mini games, special coupons, and in-app purchases. We’ll make it fun and sparkly, just like you, and appeal directly to your younger consumers. Looking at Ruthie May’s data, you’re missing nineteen to twenty-five-year-olds, which is HUGE.
And I realized, after I thought about it, that if I didn’t know you personally, I would have no idea that Sunshine Toys exists. Which is sad, because I would want to know. I would want to know that there’s this amazing, sex-positive, body-positive, woman- and nature-posit
ive company out there that wants to help me discover all the ways my body can experience pleasure.
* * *
Savannah: Oh my God. You did it, didn’t you? You had sex. With Ryan O’Dell!
* * *
Cassie: No, I haven’t. But that reminds me! Three questions! One—do I have your permission to create a Sunshine Toys app and spend approximately twenty-five percent of your marketing budget to get the word out about our fun new toy?
* * *
Savannah: Knock yourself out. It’s not like things can get much worse.
* * *
Cassie: Yay! Two—are you comfortable with me staying at your place a few extra weeks? I already worked out a remote working arrangement with my boss and I shouldn’t have a problem juggling both jobs. I’m not due to work lead on a game for another six months.
* * *
Savannah: Of course. Stay as long as you like. Now get to the good stuff. I’m assuming number three is the juicy one?
* * *
Cassie: Yes. It is. Can I pretty please have your blessing to bang your neighbor? I know that might make things awkward for you when you get home, but he’s so wonderful, Van. So sexy and sweet and funny and kind and I truly cannot imagine a better De-Virginizer showing up in my life. I don’t want to let this chance pass me by.
* * *
Savannah: The De-Virginizer. Ew. It sounds like the Terminator—I’ll be back! In your vagina!
* * *
Cassie: Can you be serious, please? This is a big deal for me. I’m ready, dude. It finally feels right, you know?
* * *
Savannah: Then you should go for it, doll face. Rush headlong into love and squeeze every bit of joy you can out of it before it goes rotten.
* * *
Cassie: No one said anything about love. This is sex. Momentous, first-time sex, yes. But still, purely physical.
* * *
Savannah: Right. Because when I’m looking for a fuck buddy, I always go on and on about how sweet and funny he is. *eye roll emoji* You’re falling for him, Cassie. And that’s okay. Just go in with your eyes open and make sure he’s on the same page before you take a leap off the love high-dive. Make sure there’s water in the pool, you know?
* * *
Cassie: I think there is, Van. I think there’s water. He likes me too. Like, maybe even REALLY likes me.
* * *
Savannah: And why wouldn’t he? You’re wonderful and I love you. Got to go, Beatrice wants to play ninja rabbits with rabies.
* * *
Cassie: Sounds fun.
* * *
Savannah: Oh, it is. Maybe the most fun I’ve had in years. Love you! Be safe! Use condoms! Lots and lots of condoms! With lube!
Twenty
Ryan
* * *
“Keep ‘em closed.” I shuffle forward across the grass at the back of my property behind Cassie, my fingers cupped around her eyes. “No peeking. Peeking is cheating.”
She laughs. “How can I peek with your big mitts covering half my face? Has anyone ever told you that you have ridiculously giant hands?”
“All the time,” I say. “Usually whenever they see me holding my massive firehose.”
She giggles again, a sweet, happy sound that makes me want to keep her here with me forever, far from downtown and the sex toy factory and all the uptight assholes who are doing their best to make her visit to Happy Cat as miserable as possible. Coming home should be as fun as karaoke night was, which is why I spent the entire afternoon getting busy with my welding iron and a pile of scrap metal creating my most ambitious trash sculpture to date.
All in the name of helping Cassie get more comfortable with sex.
While I was soldering away in the shade, there was no doubt in my mind that Cassie was going to love her surprise.
But now, as we circle around the shed where I keep the smaller pieces of scrap I salvage from the junkyard and the ten-foot monstrosity comes into view, I wonder if I might have taken things too far.
Cassie has an incredible sense of humor, and the beer convinced me this was a good idea, but…
That thing is gigantic. And obnoxious. And definitely not going to be selected for inclusion in the annual art walk.
“Are we almost there? Seriously, I’m dying of curiosity,” Cassie says, twiddling her fingers on the backs of my hands. Even that innocent touch is enough to make me ache to hold her, to kiss her, to show her that pleasure is nothing to be intimidated by.
Hopefully my surprise will help with that.
Or it will make her think I’m out of my fucking mind.
Either way, there’s no turning back now.
“We’re here. Your surprise.” I pull my hands away, my gaze fixed on her face and my breath held as I wait for her response.
She blinks. Then blinks again, three times in rapid succession, as if she can’t quite believe her eyes. Her lips part and a soft, shocked sound escapes from deep in her chest. She blinks again. Then again.
Finally, her lips tremble into a light-up-the-world smile and I release the breath I’m holding.
She gets it. She totally gets it, which makes me ridiculously happy.
Cassie’s gaze shifts my way, her expression vulnerable in a way I haven’t seen many times before. “You made me a giant metal dildo.”
I nod seriously. “I did.”
“With googly eyes and….” She glances back at my creation, brows furrowed. “And horns? Are those horns?”
“I was thinking antennae, but horns work too.”
“It’s…beautiful,” she says, her eyes shining. “It’s the most beautiful thing anyone has ever made for me. Thank you.”
I lift a hand, cupping her cheek. “It’s hideous. You’re beautiful. And you’ve got no reason to be intimidated by a bunch of stupid sex toys.” I nod toward the pile of scrap next to my creation. “That’s why you’re going to make one too.”
“One what?”
“A giant metal dildo,” I say. “I’ll help with the welding, but you can put the pieces together any way you like.”
She arches a brow, her pretty mouth curving on one side. “Really?”
“Really.”
“Can I give it a face, too? A clown face with a big red nose?”
“Sure. I’ve got red paint. But that sounds like it might skew scary, doesn’t it?”
Cassie steps closer, mischief creeping into her expression. “Why, Mr. O’Dell, are you afraid of clowns?”
“Afraid isn’t the word I would use,” I say, slipping an arm around her waist.
“Then what word would you use?”
“I’m respectful of their space. They don’t get too close to me, I don’t get too close to them, and no one ends up locked in an abandoned lion cage at the back of the carnival while a serial killer in floppy shoes sharpens his collection of polka dot-handled hunting knives.”
She laughs, that rich, carefree laugh that is quickly becoming one of my favorite sounds in the world. “That’s a very detailed fantasy.”
“Nightmare,” I correct. “Recurring. I read too much Stephen King as a kid. But don’t tell anyone. I’m trying to maintain my rep as an adult who can be trusted to rush bravely into burning buildings.”
Cassie’s gaze softens. “I won’t tell anyone. And I think you’re very brave.” She lifts a hand, running her fingers gently over the scar on my cheek. “Jojo stopped by for a lube refill for his girlfriend today. He told me about the fire at the welding shop. How you went in to save your friend and they almost weren’t in time to get you out.”
I shrug uncomfortably. “Jojo talks too much.”
She frowns. “I’m sorry. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s fine. I didn’t mean to pry.”
“No, it’s not that, it’s just…” I hug her closer. “It was a long time ago. And it was scary, yeah, but it also changed my life for the better. That night is what inspired me to become a firefighter. And fighting fires is my soul work, you know? S
omething I know makes a difference in people’s lives every single day.”
She nods. “Yeah. It does. You’re a hero.”
I scoff, rolling my eyes. “I don’t know about that.”
“I do,” she says, without a trace of doubt. “You’re my hero anyway. I touched twenty-seven dildos today and only blushed fire engine red once. Never could have happened without you.”
I smile. “And now we’re going to finish the job of getting you dildo comfy. Ready to get your art on?” I’d much rather carry her inside and kiss every sexy inch of her, but crazy as this is, I think it’s going to help her.
Cassie nods, propping her hands on her hips as she surveys the pile of scrap. “Ready. Where do I start?”
