by Frankie Love
He smiles, but it doesn’t stretch wide across his face. He may be unintentionally sending hot-tamale signals to every woman on this street—and yes, I’ve been watching. Every lady is checking him out. I can respect him for not engaging in the I-want-to-break-my-jaw-on-you vibes, considering he is married.
And with the next sentence out of his mouth, it’s clear his mind is certainly on her.
“Should we get your mom something?” he asks.
Lucy and Milo smile and my heart warms that he thought of getting his wife something. It’s no surprise that I’m pretty much in love with the idea of a man who is a sweetheart.
“What is her favorite candy?” I ask him.
He frowns and then shrugs. “I have no idea.”
I hold my tongue. How can a husband not know what his wife likes?
“Maybe something sour?” He looks at Lucy.
She shakes her head. “Mama hates sour anything.”
“That’s not true,” Milo argues. “She likes the lemon tarts Auntie Maggie makes.”
Lucy crosses her arms. “Not really. She just pretends she does.”
Not wanting them upset over nothing, and wanting to help turn them into loyal customers I suggest my grown-up line. “I have these champagne bears and peach Bellini hearts. Maybe your mother would like them?”
Lucy giggles. “Champagne!” She grins. “That’s perfect for Mama. She has a shirt that says Rosé All Day.”
“Even better, I have Rosé Roses.” I pull out the rosette-shaped gummies. “Pink roses are my favorite flower, and these candies are pretty much perfection.” Lucy nods, agreeing. “Now that that’s settled. What about something for your dad? We don’t want to leave him out.”
Immediately Lucy’s face crumbles and Milo looks at her with a heavy frown.
I look at the man in front of me not understanding my error.
“We don’t have a daddy,” she says. “Not anymore.”
The man clears his throat. Takes a deep breath. He leans closer to me and quietly says, “Their dad, he uh, died three years ago.”
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry…”
He cuts me off. “It’s okay. You didn’t know.”
I look down at the kids who are watching our exchange. “Well, um, should we get your, um, your...” I realize I don’t know how Clive fits in with the kids. Is he their mom’s boyfriend, their nanny, their neighbor?
Lucy helps me out. “We should totally get Uncle Clive something. He doesn’t like Rosé though. You like whiskey, right?”
He ruffles her hair as if wondering where she comes up with this information.
“What?” she asks laughing. “He does!”
I exhale, relieved that she helped me out of that one. He is Uncle Clive. Though the kids mentioned an aunt. He could still be married.
“Whiskey? Hmmm... Don’t have any of that. The closest I’ve got to that is root beer.”
“I’m good, actually,” he says, looking at the ground, the ease of our conversation gone. I feel terrible for bringing up a tough topic with the kids, and him—all of it. “Just ring these three up and we’ll be going.”
As I turn to ring up the order, a woman my age stops by and asks Clive if he has plans Saturday night.
With a curt nod, he says he’s busy. She frowns and then adds, “If you keep saying no to every date you’ll be single forever.”
She pats his arms and leaves and Lucy looks up at him, giggling. “You should have a girlfriend, Uncle Clive. Don’t you ever get lonely?”
I hand Clive back his debit card with a flutter in my belly. So, he is definitely single.
A few moments later they walk away, and I can’t resist checking him out. His ass is finer than any I’ve seen, and his sweet cheeks soften the cold hard fact that he doesn’t give me a second look. In all honesty, I don’t think he hardly gave me a first glance either.
He may be man candy, but it appears that his jar is on a shelf I won’t be able to reach anytime soon.
Chapter 3
Clive
The last time I woke up hard and horny was, well damn, I don’t know. Charlie was right. It’s been a long-ass time since I had a woman in my bed.
After all the shit that went down when we lost Luke, the idea of being close to a woman terrified me. I know all too well what happened to my sister after her husband died and I swore I’d never put a woman through that pain. Sleepless nights, years of work with grief counselor appointments, tears at the most unexpected times.
But damn, I can’t sleep worth shit. My mind is filled with images of that sweet-ass candy girl, Hazel. Her body was all curves and her smile lit up that damn candy cart—which is saying something. Everything she sold was bright and colorful.
And it wasn’t just the way her jeans hugged her apple-shaped bottom or her big, round breasts that were poorly concealed by her apron. No, it was how damn sweet she was with Lucy and Milo. How she appeared genuinely upset for mistaking me as their father.
She may have been eyeing me like she wanted a piece of my man candy, but she wasn’t over-the-top about it, which is refreshing in this town. Most women here don’t seem to give a damn that I’m not interested. But Hazel didn’t seem interested in anything except making sure she hadn’t offended the kids.
I may not have been overly talkative when I stood at her cart, but damn, I most certainly am captivated. But I know that will lead to nothing but trouble. So I push her out of my mind, roll over in my bed, and try to sleep.
It doesn’t work. Next thing I know my cock is hard, in my hand, and I am dreaming of Hazel. Of her luscious lips kissing mine, of her soft skin pressed against my hard edges, smoothing me out as she spreads her legs. I pump my shaft hard as I imagine her climbing on top of me, riding me with her creamy pussy.
Damn, I’m gonna come hard, and I can’t stop picturing her above me, her tits in my mouth, her body ready to be devoured like a fucking candy box.
My cock explodes as I picture her going down on me, licking my hardness like a lollipop. Her mouth wrapped around my stiff dick, her hands on my tight balls, my come filling her mouth.
Fuck. I close my eyes, knowing I haven’t gotten off like that in my whole damn life. No woman has gotten me so hard, so damn fast.
And to think, I wasn’t even in bed with Hazel. Only the idea of her.
I fall asleep with her as the only thing on my mind.
In the office the next day, I’m going over the calendar when my sisters, Greta and Maggie, come into the shop. Greta drops off a tray of sticky buns from their bakery, and Maggie places half a dozen cupcakes on the counter.
“You two are my favorite girls in this town, you know that, right?” Charlie says, grabbing a cupcake and tearing off the wrapper. “Oh, God,” he groans. “Red velvet is my favorite.”
Maggie suppresses a smile but can’t seem to resist commenting. “I know,” she says, shrugging like that wasn’t intentional.
“You’re gonna make me gain twenty pounds if you keep dropping this stuff off here,” he tells my sisters.
“It’s nothing,” Maggie says. “Anyway, Greta’s cinnamon rolls are a day old.”
Greta rolls her eyes. “You’re lucky to have me here at all. Milo was up half the night fussing that his favorite blanket was in the wash. I need a nap and it isn’t even noon.”
My sisters have the only bakery in town. Greta makes the breads, rolls, and loaves. Maggie sticks to cakes, pies, and cupcakes.
“I need a coffee to wash that down.” Charlie heads to the back room to get himself a cup, and as he walks away, Maggie watches him with a not-so-discreet sigh.
“Why don’t you just ask him out?” Greta asks our younger sister. Greta’s the oldest at twenty-eight, then it’s me at twenty-seven, and lastly, Maggie’s twenty-three. And she’s had a thing for Charlie for as long as anyone can remember.
I don’t get mixed up in the girl talk. God knows I have nothing to add to that conversation, but I also don’t want my little siste
r with a player like Charlie.
“Yeah, right,” Maggie sighs. “He doesn’t know I exist. At least, not like that.”
I scowl. “Seriously, I don’t want to hear any more. Besides, he does know you exist. He’s been my best friend since we were ten. He watched you grow up, Maggie.” I just shake my head, looking back at the calendar. Girls are so weird sometimes.
“Aren’t you gonna ask why we stopped in?” Greta asks.
Maggie teases. “Make him guess.”
I raise an eyebrow. “I have no fucking clue.”
“You’re no fun,” Maggie pouts, crossing her arms as Charlie comes back holding a cup of coffee. “We came to tell you that tonight I’m having a party.”
“And I care because?”
“Because you need to come,” she says. “Milo and Lucy are gone until tomorrow afternoon at Luke’s sister’s place in Grantsville, so no excuses. Greta’s coming and so are you.”
“What about me?” Charlie asks, pretending offense.
Maggie swallows. “Of course, you’re invited. Everyone is. It’s a late-night, backyard BBQ. Everyone’s gonna be there.”
I snort. “Everyone but me. That sounds about as fun as shopping.”
Maggie and Greta frown. “You’re no fun, Clive.”
Just then the door pushes open and in walks Hazel, holding a small white box in her hand.
“Hey,” she says, seeming surprised to see the full office. “Uh, hi, Clive.”
“Hey,” I say, looking down. The moment I lay eyes on that woman it’s like I forget how to mother fucking breathe. She’s wearing a white lace dress that comes above her knees, and her hair’s pulled back in a braid. Wisps are loose around her face and she has on worn cowboy boots. Looking at her gets me hard, and I step behind the counter, unable to focus. And not wanting her to see what she does to me.
I’ve been able to stay away from hot women for years, but this one makes me crazy.
Her eyes dart around the office, landing on the counter filled with treats. “Um, well I made you these but, um, looks like you already have plenty.” She hands me the white box, looking deflated.
I take them from her, incredibly aware of the fact that my sisters and Charlie are watching us intently.
“No, those are nothing,” I say waving off the goods my sisters brought.
“Nothing?” Maggie says butting her head in where it doesn’t belong. “Those red velvet cupcakes are not nothing?”
Greta elbows her, and Maggie shuts up. Apparently, the idea of me talking to a woman, without pushing her off after the first word is a revelation.
I meet Hazel’s gaze. “My sisters own Two Sisters Bakery in town. They’re always shoving food at me.”
“Oh.” She bites her bottom lip, and damn, she has no idea how fucking sexy she is.
“What is it?” I ask, stepping toward her. Why? I have no goddamn clue, except I have to. I need to be closer to her.
“It’s just, um, I made you those... Whiskey gummy bears. I didn’t have any guy flavors yesterday and I felt so bad for getting things so wrong.” She lifts her chin; our eyes meet and I swear to God I could pull her to me in that instant and never let go.
I have no fucking clue where these instincts come from, but this woman is doing something to me. Something crazy.
“You didn’t need to go to all that effort for me.”
Her cheeks redden and I’ll admit that I like to make her blush. The truth is women in this town have been bringing me homemade lasagnas and apple pies for as long as I can remember to try and win me over, but none of those gestures did anything to my cock.
Hazel though? She makes me fucking ready to go.
“I wanted to,” she says softly. “And after realizing I only had treats catering to women, I figured I might as well try my hand at something you might like.”
“Thank you,” I tell her. “I bet they’re delicious.”
Hazel licks her lips, and damn, if my sisters and best friend weren’t here in my office, I swear to God, I’d fucking groan, pull her little dress up around her waist and give her a real thank you.
I open the box, and Greta and Maggie lean over to look inside. I turn to them. “Do you mind?”
“What?” Greta frowns. “Aren’t you even going to introduce us?”
I run my hand over my beard, giving my sisters a hard look, Charlie too. I don’t do introductions. I don’t do chit-chat. But one look at my sisters and I’m reminded that if I don’t take the lead here they will.
Hazel’s eyes aren’t on me or my sisters. They are taking in the office, and I see her gaze lingering on the photos of Charlie and me all over the office on various outdoor expeditions.
I like that she doesn’t feel the need to jump in and be the star of the show. She comes across more reserved, almost shy. And I can tell she felt more at ease when it was just the kids and me yesterday than she is here with my sisters and Charlie. I can’t help but wonder why. Who is this woman and why is she here in Linesworth?
Greta taps her fingers on the counter waiting for me to say something but I don’t need anyone taking the lead as far as Hazel and I are concerned.
“Hazel owns the new candy cart. The one I took Lucy and Milo to yesterday.”
My sister’s eyes light up. “You’re Hazel! Lucy gave me the gummy roses. One word: divine!”
“Oh, my gosh. We meant to come say hello but Greta had a rush order, and I had a wedding cake.”
“It’s fine,” Hazel says, slowly taking in their energy. There is a lot of it. “I can imagine how busy you must be running a business, with your two kiddos to boot.”
“Yeah, not sure what I’d do without Clive,” Greta says.
I cough. “Uh, don’t you guys need to be somewhere?”
Charlie laughs. “Not really,” he says, reaching for a sticky bun. “I work here.”
“Yeah, and the kids are with their aunt,” Greta says, taking a cupcake. “I’m pretty free.”
“And I’ve got nothing to do except shop for my party.” Maggie’s eyes gleam. “Oh, my gosh, you should totally come. With Clive.” Looking at me she adds, “Don’t worry, we only invited half of the local Clive Fan Club.”
Hazel’s eyes widen. “Um, no, I mean. Thanks but—”
“No, you’re new in town,” Maggie pushes. “We know nothing about you. And we want to. You have to come. Besides, I’ve never seen Clive talk to a woman this long, in like, years. So I’m not taking no for an answer.”
I press my fingertips to my forehead. My sister is just way too much.
“She said no.” I save Hazel from a party I’d never go to without being forced. I avoid them at all cost because they’re filled with either happy couples or single women hitting on me.
Hazel looks over at me, and I swear she looks wounded. Dammit, women are so damn complicated.
“Well, I mean, unless you want me to come,” Hazel says.
I look around the room. Charlie thinks this is hilarious, and my sisters, they are dying to sink their teeth into this sweetheart who came calling for me.
“Uh, do you want to come?” I run my hand through my hair. When was the last time I asked a woman out?
“Sure.” She smiles without showing her teeth, and I know she’s holding something back.
My sisters and Charlie finally get a goddamn clue and leave out the front door, apparently satisfied that I won’t fuck this up.
“My sisters are bossy, so just be prepared for them tonight,” I tell her, reaching for one of the candies she made and popping it into my mouth.
Truth is, I’m not sure where I want this thing to go. I know where I want Hazel; in my bed, but she isn’t the sort of girl you can sleep with and forget. She’s trouble in a way I don’t think she understands.
She tilts her head as if considering me.
“What?” I ask, reaching for another gummy bear.
“Do you like them?” she asks.
“They’re fucking delicious.”
She smiles softly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, looking pretty damn tasty herself.
I clear my throat, trying of think about something besides her long legs and heart-shaped face. “I’ll pick you up then?”
“Perfect,” she says.
And all I can think is, yes, Hazel. You are indeed.
Chapter 4
Hazel
The guest house I’m renting sounds fancier than it is, but it is just a block off Main Street, and so the location works perfectly. And on top of that, the studio is clean and quiet. There’s a small kitchenette where I can make tea in the morning and a big bathtub where I can take a long soak at night. It is more than enough for me.
Certainly, more than I ever had growing up.
I turn on the shower, wanting to wash some of the sweat and sugar off my skin before my date. Stripping out of my dress and kicking off my boots, I step into the shower, letting the warm water soak me. I close my eyes, thinking through the day.
Sales were good. Better than good, actually. And for only being a few days in business, I can already see how being in a tourist town like this is going to be great. My biggest concern is what I will do when it gets cold or rains. I’ll have to close down my cart. There aren’t any indoor markets in this village, and that’s why I need a shop of my own so badly.
I can’t worry about that right now. My entire life can’t be about my candy. Making a few friends would be nice. I haven’t had the luxury of thinking about friendships for years. Now that I’m here, starting over, I have a chance to be more than a caregiver and provider. Still, a party isn’t my first choice. Maybe a dinner with a few ladies, meeting for a drink. A party is not exactly what I’d call my comfort zone.
But I was asked out by a real man. Clive might not be the most outgoing man in the world, but he just might well be the hottest.
His shoulders pulled the tee-shirt he wore today taut and seeing him in his office, where maps hung all over the wall as well as pictures of him on outdoor adventures, I couldn’t help but imagine myself being on a forest expedition with him.
