Fall in Love Book Bundle: Small Town Romance Box Set

by Grover Swank, Denise

That stupid grin. No wonder all the women in town were buying up his inventory. Snake charmer.

  “I’m out of your league.” I mentally high-fived myself so hard my head spun. I didn’t say the why me. I thought it, but I didn’t let him see anything but my artificial confidence—as satisfying as a diet soda.

  Not older.

  Not wrinkled.

  Not flabby.

  Out of his league.

  Brilliant!

  His laugh. That smile. The visceral energy he exuded. I wasn’t immune to any of it.

  “I’ll give you that. So what does one have to do to get into the major league with you?”

  “Look …” I drew in a confident breath and found words to match my age and expected level of maturity. “I don’t know how things work in your world, but in mine … I have kids, and a dog, and responsibilities that involve making smart decisions. And I’m fairly certain that what you’re suggesting isn’t smart or mature or really even sane. So I’m going to have to pass on your offer or invitation or whatever it is that you just suggested.”

  “I suggested you come to my house for sex. But I can take a raincheck if you’re busy tonight.”

  A weird feeling settled in my chest and tickled my tummy. Giddiness … maybe. It was hard to say. I couldn’t remember the last time someone made me feel that way. Craig did when we met. He had this confidence that rode the arrogant line without completely crossing over into the asshole category.

  Confidence.

  I missed a confident man. Maybe I became Craig’s safe place in life. Owning a business and doing things like starting equipment with pull cords probably zapped all his alpha energy, leaving me with the leftovers—insecure sex commentary and painful indecisiveness.

  Kael exuded confidence, and that by itself made it unlikely that I wouldn’t repeat my immoral dreams. Adding in the Captain America resemblance and the recent discovery that he had a thing for Good Samaritan work … it pretty much left me doomed to do something stupid.

  “A part of me wants your business to go under. Do you still want to have sex with me?”

  His eyes, along with his white teeth, illuminated the night sky. My words seemed to have the opposite of their intended effect. “Elsie, I nearly fucked you in your shop the day you said you were going to take me down. I would be epically disappointed if you surrendered your obsessive desire to destroy me.”

  Over twenty years of marriage, not once did Craig use the f-word in reference to sex with me. I think it would have seemed a little crass. That wasn’t us. We had sex and made love. Sometimes we’d “do it.” However, I would have preferred “fuck” to “shaboink” any day of the week.

  Clearing my throat, my shaky hand curled my hair behind my ear. “I uh … was there that day in my shop. And I can say for certain that you were nowhere close to doing … that to me … with me.” I shook my head as I tripped over my words. “Whatever.”

  His head canted to the side. “Really? Huh. I’m usually not wrong about those vibes. Like now. It’s in the thirties and snowing, but you’re burning up, ripping off your scarf and unzipping your jacket. If I were to take a guess, I’d say you’re thinking about me in ways that make you feel irresponsible and rather hot.”

  I wasn’t hot. I was an inferno. “I need to go. My fajitas are getting cold.”

  Kael’s tongue grazed his lower lip. “Follow me to my house. I can warm up your fajita.”

  My age crept up on me like I knew it would if I spent too much time in his company. A big part of me knew he wasn’t referring to anything in my to-go bag, but I wasn’t aware of slang meanings for fajita. Possibly vagina—just based on the shape—but that wasn’t enough to give me the confidence I needed to land a solid accusation.

  “I’m going home to eat it. I mean …” I cringed. “The fajitas in the bag. The ones I just picked up inside.”

  Kael laughed a little, and it elicited actual sweat between my cleavage. “Do you have another fajita? Is that why you’re having issues forming complete sentences?”

  I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know. Do I have another fajita?”

  When the skin at the bridge of his nose wrinkled, I realized he was only referring to the actual food I ordered.

  Kill. Me. Now!

  “I have to go.” I leapt into my SUV and sped out of the parking lot, fishtailing a bit from the accumulating snow. In a year’s time, I’d gone from feeling stuck and suffocated in a lifeless marriage to unimaginable grief and guilt to … Kael. He knocked me off-kilter, barged into my passive dreams, and turned them into pure sin.

  His smile.

  His laugh.

  The mischief in those eyes.

  The offer!

  Since when did people start throwing out offers for sex as casually as suggesting a cup of coffee?

  Chapter 10

  I loved him in all his forms as he had always loved me in my many forms. It was the blatant letting go of everything and the gross stuff that came with it that he didn’t try to hide—even a little.

  As soon as I stepped through the back door and greeted Meadow, I headed straight to the office and plunked down into the chair, setting my bag of food on the desk two seconds before my fingers glided across the keyboard, doing an internet search for slang meanings of fajita. With the urban dictionary on the screen in front of me, I read over the possibilities as I ate my dinner.

  My sexual dinner.

  Just as I’d thought, fajita could be interpreted in a distasteful way.

  While I finished my dinner, I called Amie and put her on speaker phone.

  “I know. It’s snowing, so we won’t be walking in the morning,” she answered her phone as if my call were all too predictable.

  “Kael Hendricks offered me sex.”

  Silence.

  More silence.

  “Amie?”

  “Yeah, I uh … wow … so how was it?”

  “I didn’t have sex with him! Geesh … do you really see me like that?”

  “Like what?” She laughed. “Single. Available. Able. Willing. Yes. I see you as all of those things. Why are you talking to me when you could be In. His. Bed?”

  “Seriously? Wow … where to begin answering your ridiculous question. Let’s start with the age gap. Hello! Twelve years. He’s my competition. The enemy. He’s cocky. I have four children. He doesn’t believe in marriage or monogamy.”

  “You said … and I quote, ‘I’m not ever getting married again, Amie. Don’t ever let me even consider it.’ And I agreed with you. No need to anchor yourself again after finally seeing a glimpse of freedom. By this time next year, you could be living by yourself. Hell, you practically are now. Do you really sit around at night missing a man?”

  “I miss …” I cut myself off before I spewed out my knee-jerk response that would have landed me in her trap, making her point for her.

  “You miss the sex. Just say it. Then I can say WHAT ARE YOU DOING TALKING TO ME?”

  “I have kids. Are you not listening to me? What would happen if … and this is one hundred percent hypothetical … if I had sex with him and my kids, specifically Bella, found out. Not to mention other people in this small, gossip-fueled town? My church family would disown me.”

  “You don’t have to tell anyone. And I highly doubt Kael would run around town flaunting the fact that he nailed you.”

  I winced. “Nice language. What are you? Fifteen? And why wouldn’t he tell people? Do you think he’d be too embarrassed because I’m so much older?”

  “For real, Elsie? Are you seriously offended by the notion that he wouldn’t tell anyone?”

  “This conversation is ridiculous. I’m not sure why I even called you.”

  Amie chuckled. “Because you wanted me to tell you to have sex with him.”

  “No.”

  “Yes. You’re just pretending to be offended that I actually think you should do it, but deep down, you’re looking for me to validate your feelings.”

  “Pfft … and what are
my feelings?”

  “You tell me. Do you want to have sex with Kael Hendricks?”

  Silence.

  “You just answered my question.”

  I sat up straight in the desk chair. “I didn’t say anything.”

  “Exactly. And that breath of silence said everything. Now … go shave your legs and maybe buzz the muff a bit. Lotion. Perfume. And wear something sexy—which is code for borrow something from Bella.”

  “What? No. No to shaving and buzzing. No to lotion … okay, I like lotion, but there will be no perfume because I’m staying in tonight. And I’m a little taken aback that you think Bella owns sexy things.”

  “She’s eighteen, Elsie. Trust me. She owns things you have never seen. She just doesn’t put them on until she’s out of the house.”

  “That’s not true.” I shook my head, internally dying because I also didn’t expect my daughter to lose her virginity in high school and casually mention it to me in a retail store.

  The doorbell rang.

  Every muscle in my body tensed, and my heart thundered. Since Craig’s death, every time the doorbell rang, I replayed the night the police came to my house to give me the devastating news.

  “I have to go. Someone’s at my door. I hope it’s not …” I couldn’t even say it.

  “Don’t go there. I’m sure it’s just Bella forgetting her key. Bye, Elsie.”

  I didn’t tell Amie that the back door was unlocked, so I knew it wasn’t Bella forgetting her key. And my three boys no longer lived at home. My heart remained lodged in my throat as I made my way to the front door. The knot in my gut told me it wasn’t good.

  Opening the door, my fears were confirmed. It wasn’t good.

  “You dropped your scarf on the ground in the parking lot. Figured you might need it to clear your drive in the morning since you rejected my offer.”

  I snatched the scarf from his hand and started to shut the door with a mumbled “Thank you. Do I want to know how you found my house?”

  “Small town. How were your fajitas?”

  Stopping with the door opened only about two inches, I peeked one eye out. “Fine. Night.”

  “You could invite me inside and offer me something warm since I came all this way to return your scarf.”

  “Cute.” I squinted my one peeping eye through the crack in the door. “And by something warm, you mean sex?”

  He rubbed his mouth to hide his grin. “You’re a ballbuster, and you don’t even mean to be. I was thinking tea, coffee, hot chocolate, cider … but sex would definitely warm me up if that’s all you have to offer.”

  I drank hot lemon water every morning. We hadn’t had coffee in the house since Craig died. Bella occasionally grabbed a sugary coffee drink on her way to school. I had no tea. No hot chocolate. No cider.

  And as all of that realization hit me, I started to shake with laughter.

  Kael glanced around and drew his shoulders close to his ears as the gusting wind intensified, swirling snow in all directions. “I’ll take that as a no. See ya around, Elsie.” He pivoted and headed toward his truck parked in my driveway.

  My phone vibrated in my pocket as I closed the door.

  Bella: Staying the night with Erin. Be home by noon tomorrow.

  I frowned at the screen. Why did I suddenly not trust that she was staying with her friend? Oh, that was right. She was sexually active, and I wasn’t ready to deal with that.

  “It’s just the two of us, Meadow.” I sighed as I heard the rumble of Kael’s truck starting. His huge tailpipes made way more noise than was necessary on my quiet street. Meadow trotted over to the bench under the mirror. She put her front paws on the bench and bit her fleece blanket, pulling it partially off the bench to … hump it.

  “Not cool, Meadow. Not cool at all.”

  Not only was it not cool that Meadow had a blanket to hump, my daughter was most likely in bed with a guy instead of eating popcorn and watching a chick-flick with Erin.

  “Here goes everything …” I rolled my eyes at myself and opened the front door. Waving my arm above my head, I grimaced against the cold wind as Kael backed out of my driveway.

  He stopped, shifted into drive, and pulled back up my drive. He killed the engine and shut off his headlights as he opened the door and hopped out.

  “Shit …” I whispered to myself, my pulse racing. “Shit … shit … shit.” The reality of what I was about to do made my knees weak and my breaths embarrassingly erratic.

  Kael insisted on making his trek back to my door the slowest one ever. “Need something?”

  Need? That was a good question. Probably not, but I sure wanted it in the most self-serving way imaginable.

  “I don’t have anything warm to drink.” I hugged my arms to my chest.

  His grin swelled as his boots gripped my porch steps.

  “Where’s your daughter?”

  “Friend’s house.” I allowed a matching grin to steal my lips, knowing that once I let it takeover my face, there would be no going back, no erasing it, no acting cool.

  His boots kept moving, forcing me back a few steps as he crossed the threshold of my front door.

  On a hard swallow, I took three more steps in reverse while he popped off his hat and deposited it on the top of my coat-tree followed by his jacket.

  What am I doing? What am I doing?

  I feigned confidence as he hunched down to untie his leather hiking boots. I hadn’t had sex for nearly a year. And I hadn’t had sex for the first time with a guy since I was eighteen. And … I had only had sex with one man my whole life.

  Did the younger crowd have sex differently? Were certain positions and particular foreplay moves outdated? Yes. Those thoughts went through my head. My kids loved reminding me how ancient I was from the clothes I wore to the words I spoke. And everything they said went over my head. I didn’t speak young person. It took me years to stop calling flip-flops thongs, and apparently videotaping was no longer a thing because there was no longer a tape involved.

  No gagging with a spoon.

  No barfing out the door.

  No more having cows.

  And the word grody coming out of my mouth ensured my kids rarely invited their friends over to our house.

  “Where are you?”

  My gaze snapped up from my mental videotape of forty-something insecurities to find Kael in front of me, towering over my short five-three stature by close to a foot. “Just thinking about the twelve years between us.”

  “Why?” His hand snaked around my neck.

  I stiffened, releasing a shaky breath. “Because I’m not sure I will …” I covered my face with my hands. “What am I doing?”

  He peeled my hands away from my face. “Finish what you were going to say.”

  My gaze didn’t quite make it to his face. The pressure of looking in his eyes while saying the embarrassing words was too heavy. “I’m not sure I do things the way you’re used to doing them.” Biting my lips together, I closed my eyes. That sounded ridiculous. Utterly ridiculous.

  Meadow squeezed between us, and we looked at her between our socked feet. Kael wore a pair of red and gray striped wool socks that made me grin. My socks were wool as well, but light pink and white and super fuzzy.

  “This is Meadow.”

  “Hey, Meadow. I’m going to fuck your mom. Are you good with that?”

  There was that word again. I felt it in a physical way—a quivering feverishness, the palpations and jolt of electricity. It felt wrong and forbidden. Yet coming from Kael’s mouth, I felt those things in the best possible way. The Saturday shaboink girl craved to be fucked by a Good Samaritan with an uncensored mouth.

  Kael’s arousal-inducing gaze inched up my body, painting my skin shades of deep pink in its wake.

  “You’re shaking.” He leered at me as my gaze bounced off his several times before sticking for more than three seconds.

  “I’m being a bad hostess. Can I get you something?”

  “You.
”

  My nerves got the best of me. “Maybe you should make yourself at home while I go upstairs and change my clothes.”

  His ear-splitting grin made me feel lightheaded, like a dream. “I don’t think clothes are required.”

  “I need to shave … some things.”

  “You don’t.”

  “I didn’t brush my teeth after dinner.” I cleared my throat as what little confidence I had completely shriveled.

  “Turn your brain off.” His fingers deftly unbuttoned my jeans and inched down my zipper, causing massive arrhythmia. “I don’t want you clean and smooth.” His hand made its way down the front of my pants, arresting my breath. “I want you dirty with all your rough, unkept edges. I want a few of the buttons on your shirt to pop off when I'm too impatient to use any sort of dexterity to remove it properly. I want to hear you moan profanities that would make your church friends clutch their pearls.”

  I wanted the floor beneath me to open and swallow me whole when he touched me where no other man aside from Craig had touched me. Two of his fingers found their way inside of me, and for a few seconds, I felt horrified, completely wrecked by my emotions and my inability to turn off my brain.

  “Shut. It. Off.” Kael dipped his head and stole my lips and my breath. He didn’t ask me how I liked his touch. He didn’t ask me a string of questions that didn’t matter, that only served to magnify his own insecurities.

  This is happening. What am I doing? Should I stop?

  My stupid brain ran through the laundry list of insecurities that never revealed themselves with Craig. Not once did I wonder if he thought my vagina was overly stretched from pushing four humans through it. Laxity of my labia also never came to mind until that moment.

  Pubic hair.

  Stretch marks.

  Wrinkles.

  Vaginal wall strength.

  Thank God I had my own teeth and didn’t have to worry about my dentures displacing as his tongue probed my mouth. The fast pace of casual sex left me feeling a little off-kilter, three steps behind.

  I knew how to date.

  I knew how to have a boyfriend.

  A husband.

  I knew there was an order—flirting, a first date, hand-holding, kissing, bases to be explored multiple times before going all the way. And “all the way” meant something. It meant you were a couple if that hadn’t already been agreed upon.