by Frankie Love
As I wash my hair and rub soap over my skin, I lose myself in that idea. Clive’s strong hands pushing up my dress, pulling down my panties, his hands holding me tightly and taking me places I’ve never gone before.
My legs part as my fingers move gently toward my clit, my body hot at the thought of Clive pressing his fingers against me. I gasp as my fingers move faster and faster, dreaming of Clive lifting me at the waist, his pants dropped, his cock under me... inside of me. I moan as I lift a leg up on the side of the tub, my fingers working themselves into a frenzy as I near orgasm.
I take myself to the edge as I imagine him ripping off my dress, burying his face against my breasts, grinding his length inside me. I come, hard. My body tensing as I let the sensation wash over me.
My hand reaches for the water, pushing it all the way to cold. My body is primed and on fire and desperate for more.
I let my skin calm down as ice-cold water rushes over me.
Get yourself together, I think. This is a date. Nothing more.
Heaven knows I’ve never had more than this before, so why would I think a man as perfect as Clive would be interested in taking my virginity?
When Clive arrives at my place, I’ve calmed down. But I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t excited at the prospect of getting to know him better. A lot better. And when he knocks on my door, I remind myself that anything can happen. This is my life after all.
“You look beautiful, Hazel,” he tells me, his voice low and gravelly like he’s working hard to keep himself together.
For a moment I doubt if he really wants to be there, with me. His sisters did kind of push the issue.
But then he looks me in the eyes and his icy blues tell me everything I need to know.
He wants to be here. With me.
And when he takes my hand in his, leading me to the sidewalk, my body feels electric.
I know he feels it too, because he shakes his head, biting his bottom lip. “Damn, woman, where did you come from?”
“Nowhere good.”
He frowns. “I don’t believe that. You are the sweetest thing that’s ever landed in this town. No way do I believe you’ve been anywhere that wasn’t good.”
I twist my lips, not sure I want to unload all of my baggage on him on our first date. “I brought caramel corn. Do you think that’s okay?” I pat the tote bag that is slung over my arm.
“That’s fine. Though you didn’t need to bring anything. It’s Maggie’s place. I bet she has a whole setup.”
“Is she the party planner of the family?” I ask, noticing the looks we’re getting as we walk down the street. I swear women left and right are giving us a double take.
“Yeah, she likes to be the center of attention,” Clive smirks. “I don’t get that vibe from you though.”
“I’d say the same about you.”
“You picked up on that?” he asks.
I laugh softly. “Um, every woman we’ve walked past is giving you those eyes and yet you don’t give them a second glance.”
“What kind of eyes, exactly?”
“Sex crazed.” I elbow him playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t notice. It was like that yesterday at my cart too. Every woman in this town seems to have their eyes on you.”
“Eh, I don’t date much.”
“Me either,” I admit.
We turn right, leaving Main Street and start heading down a neighborhood street. This town is idyllic—just like I remembered. Picket fences and apple trees, tree forts in backyards and kids riding bicycles down sidewalks. It’s the kind of dream town that I want to raise a family in, grow old in. The kind of place that feels like forever.
“That’s hard to believe,” Clive says.
“Likewise.” I swallow, not wanting to overshare, knowing that a man like Clive isn’t the loud and obnoxious type who would tell anyone else my history but also, I don’t want to scare him off.
We walk hand in hand a few more blocks, silently. And when he doesn’t offer up additional details about his life, I’m glad I didn’t either. In fact, maybe this is a mistake, thinking he’s a man who might understand me. Maybe he is just man candy—a sexy guy who will take me to a party—but nothing more.
But then he stops walking and turns to face me.
“Look, Maggie’s place is the next house. And I want to prepare you.” He clenches his jaw and I have an insane urge to push back the hair on his forehead and pull him close against me. My emotions feel like a rollercoaster when I am next to Clive and I don’t think that’s the sort of ride for me.
I don’t want a rollercoaster romance, I want a carousel. A romance that is safe and steady, but still magical.
“Hazel,” he warns me. “People there are gonna talk. They’ll want to know why I’m out with you. They’re gonna give me a hard time, give us a hard time.”
My eyes flash with confusion. “Is there something wrong with me?” I look down. I’m in a sundress and sandals, nothing out of the ordinary. But maybe he doesn’t think I’m pretty enough to be with a man as handsome as him.
He shakes his head. “What? No. You’re perfect Hazel. You’re... hell, you’re the reason I’m out at all.”
“What do you mean?”
“I haven’t gone out in years. I haven’t met a woman that interested me enough. But you... I don’t know what it is, but you make me forget myself. I’ve talked to you only a few times but damn woman, you are...” he breaks off.
I inhale, not sure where this is going to go. I lower my chin, but he lifts it, forcing me to look in his eyes.
“Hazel, you are different than the rest. And that is a motherfucking compliment. I hate parties, but I wanted a reason to see you.”
I smile then, relief covering me. “You could have just asked me out, you know.”
He shrugs. “Well, now we’ve at least got to show our faces, otherwise, my sisters will hassle me about it for the next month.” He leans down, his mouth close enough to kiss. “You don’t mind that I’m not a party person?”
A laugh escapes me. “I’m not a party person either. I’m more of a roam the bookstore with a cup of tea person. Or sit around a campfire and look at the stars person.”
The look he gives me intensifies, but instead of kissing me, he steps away.
Okay, so that wasn’t the right thing to say and I don’t know why.
“You’re not a reader?” I try.
He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s not that.”
“Okay.” I press my lips together, not understanding this man. One moment he appears so into me. The next he’s as cold as the shower I took tonight.
“Hey,” he says, squeezing my hand. “Let’s go say hello and then get out of here. How does that sound?”
“Together? You still want to spend time with me?” I ask.
“I do, Hazel.” He clears his throat. “I get the feeling that hearing that from me is a surprise, and I don’t understand why that is.”
I exhale, deciding to be brave with him. “When you’ve had a life like mine you know to keep expectations in check, but at the same time, it feels as if I have turned a page in the story of my life.”
“You believe all that after just moving into town?”
I lick my lips. “I feel that way after meeting you.”
His hand is on my waist, he pulls me close. “That’s the nicest thing anyone has said to me in a long fucking time, Hazel.”
I close my eyes, knowing his hand holding me is the sweetest sensation I’ve ever experienced. His hands, though strong and tough, hold me like I am something fragile, something delicate. It makes me melt against him.
“Maybe it’s naïve, Clive,” I whisper. “But I choose to believe that this chapter is where my story takes a sharp turn.”
“Where will it lead?” he asks, his lips nearing mine, I can taste the kiss that is going to happen. It fills the air and makes me lose myself.
“For the first time in forever, there is a possibility for a happy end
ing. And I want that ending more than anything.”
He groans and presses his lips to mine under the light of the fading sun, against the backdrop of the summer breeze, deep in the heart of the place I want to spend forever.
His kiss is powerful; stirring emotions inside me I didn’t know I needed to let out. My body awakens against him, and I know his does too.
Our kiss is too hot for the sidewalk; our kiss belongs in a bedroom, behind closed doors. Our kiss is for our eyes only.
Chapter 5
Clive
The woman gets me hard, hot, bothered, and she is dangerous in the most delicious way. I swear to God, I’d pull her behind a bush and take her right here and now, but Greta interrupts a divinely perfect moment.
“Get a room, you crazy kids,” she hollers, walking past us with feigned shock. “The children could see.”
Hazel steps from me and looks around. “Where are the kids?” she asks.
Greta just laughs. “No kids. They’re at my late husband’s sister’s house tonight. I was just teasing.”
Hazel nods, pressing her fingertips to her lips, and I can tell she is visibly flustered.
Good, I like knowing I did that to her. I damn well know she is doing the same exact thing to me.
“Come on you two. Maggie is gonna have a fit if we don’t show.”
“Understood,” I tell her, slipping my hand around Hazel’s waist. There’s no way in hell I’m letting go of her now.
The three of us walk toward Maggie’s house and Greta starts chatting up Hazel. The whole time, the words we exchanged before our kiss are ringing in my ears.
She wants a happy ending.
Damn, it makes me crazy. I want that for her too but I also know it's what my sister wanted. And then her husband Luke died. And there was nothing about that ending other than sorrow.
“So, what brought you to Linesworth?” Greta asks Hazel as we push open the backyard gate to Maggie’s house.
“I needed a new start,” Hazel says. “And I had a happy memory here as a kid, and I always wanted to return.”
“And the candy cart, did you run that before you moved?”
“No, I built it right before I moved over from Seattle.”
My sister’s eyes go wide. “You built that?”
Hazel laughs. “Well, with the help of the local home improvement store, yes. I am a DIY kind of girl.”
“Impressive,” Greta says. “I can’t even unclog my own toilet without calling for help. Let alone build something.”
Hazel smiles softly. “If you don’t have anyone to call you kind of have to do it on your own.”
Greta’s eyes soften, realizing what Hazel is saying. She has no one and I don’t know what has happened to get Hazel to where she is right now, but I am more and more grateful she landed here.
“Well, now you’re here in Linesworth where everyone helps everyone.”
Greta squeezes Hazel’s arm before telling her she’s gonna go say hi to a few people.
Coming up behind her, I push away her hair, lean in and whisper in her ear. “You okay?”
She turns, and my arms effortlessly wrap around her waist. “With you here, yeah.”
And I know I hardly know this woman but it also feels like I’ve known her forever. Like she fits with me, and I want to know every last thing about her.
I’ve never been like this before. Never falling head over heart, but Hazel isn’t like anyone else.
She is sweet as fuck and breaking through my hard candy shell.
An hour later it’s time to make our retreat but it’s hard to leave because the women Maggie invited are exceptionally forward tonight. It’s like seeing me with a date has brought out the competition. And I hate that for me, but especially for Hazel. She doesn’t need to deal with this bullshit.
Hazel is just finishing her lemonade when the woman who owns the yoga studio in town grabs my elbow.
“Clive, I’ve got to talk to you, we’re doing the Man Candy Calendar again this year to raise money for the fire department and we wanted to know if you wanted a month.”
“That’ll be a hard pass,” I say, looking over at Hazel who widens her eyes and I know she’s got opinions about this. Hell, so do I.
“Oh, Clive, you’ve got to. Charlie agreed. Maybe you could do a page with him?”
I snort. “You think I’m gonna agree to strip to my tighty-whities alongside my oldest friend? Fat chance.”
“Oh, come on, Clive, please,” Yoga-lady begs.
Hazel laughs good-naturedly. “It’s for a good cause though, Clive,” she says, holding back a laugh. “Think of all the money you could raise if you’d take off your shirt.”
I shake my head and smirk at my date. She’s being so naughty.
“It’s not gonna happen,” I say with a smile, before grabbing Hazel by the waist and squeezing her to me. “You really want me to strip down for all the women of this town?” I growl in her ear.
She giggles, shaking her head. “I suppose not. However, I wouldn’t mind seeing you strip down just for me.”
Her words tell me everything I need to know. I need to get my woman out of this party and into a bed. Stat.
“It’s time to go, Sugar Plum,” I say taking her hand in mine, gripping it tightly, not wanting to waste time on long goodbyes with my sisters.
On our way out, I tell Charlie I’ll see him tomorrow, knowing he hardly hears me. He’s got some woman I’ve never seen before hanging on his arm.
Unfortunately, Maggie intercepts Hazel on our way out.
“Did you have fun?” Maggie asks, her white sangria sloshing.
“It was great. Thanks again for the invite,” Hazel says.
“I’m so glad. We need to be friends. Especially since you’re in the business of sweets, just like me. Oh, did you meet Carla? You have to.” She reaches for Hazel’s hand.
I raise a brow. “Actually we’re gonna go, Maggie.” Hazel nods in agreement. Good, she wants out of here too.
“But Hazel has to network,” Maggie pushes. “Especially since once the rainy season starts she’ll need connections so she can keep selling her stuff in other shops in town.”
“Not tonight, she doesn’t.”
“Fine.” Maggie rolls her eyes, knowing not to push me. “But you’ll come back, right, Hazel?”
“Totally,” Hazel agrees, then, without another word, she reaches for my hand, silently asking me to take her away from the crowds, the inside jokes, and the booze. I noticed she didn’t drink anything but club soda for the last hour.
Walking away from the party is easy for both of us it seems, and the knowledge relaxes me for the first time since we stepped foot at Maggie’s. I couldn’t concentrate on anything besides Hazel and all I wanted to do was kiss her again.
We slowly walk back to her house, and I ask what she thought of the night.
“It was good. Your sisters sure are nice.”
I laugh. “Opinionated, bossy, obnoxious. Those are the words I’d use.”
“They aren’t so bad. Besides, you guys are really lucky to have one another.”
“You don’t have anyone?”
She shakes her head. “It’s fine by me. Everyone I’ve ever relied on has let me down.”
“Which is why you’re a DIYer?”
She laughs. “Something like that.”
When we get to her house, she takes out her key. “Will you come in?”
I nod. “I live in my sister’s guest house. If we went there everyone would know our business.”
She nods in understanding and we step inside her small studio space. She shuts the door, locks it too.
“Home sweet home,” she says, reaching to turn on a lamp on a side table.
“You just moved in last week, right?”
“Yep.” I watch Hazel straighten a throw blanket on the end of her queen-sized bed.
“You got it set up pretty fast.”
“I wanted it to feel like home.” Hazel smiles
. “What does your place look like?”
I explain how there are still unhung pictures, three years later. How I’ve never bought proper curtains and just have sheets tacked to the windows to keep out the sun.
“You are such a guy.”
“This is true.” I step toward her, thinking about her lips—our kiss. Needing it again. “But I don’t want to be here forever. I’m looking at property, to build a place of my own.”
“That sounds wonderful. And you’d build a house all on your own?”
“For the most part. I’d call in guys to help with some of it, but I’ve worked outside all my life, kind of preparing for this. I moved into Greta’s place after Luke died. She had a rough go for quite a while. Needed someone to take Lucy to school and potty-train Milo. She spent a lot of time in bed. Years, practically. And it was an honor to help out. But now the kids are getting older, and I think she’s finally in a lot better place.”
“She’s lucky to have you. To go through hard patches with family supporting you? That’s amazing.”
“And you?” I ask. “You picture yourself here for a while?”
She tilts her head to the side as if embarrassed. “I’d like to get a place of my own someday, too.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Property?”
“Not for a house—for a shop. You know how Maggie mentioned earlier the rainy season? It’s been my biggest concern with this business plan. Rain and snow don’t work well for outdoor candy carts.”
“Makes sense. And there are always a few available storefronts on Main Street.”
“I know.” Her face brightens, looking up at me. “And one day, when I save enough, I’ll have one of my own.”
I push a strand of hair from her eyes. “I like the dreams you have. The fact you moved here, all on your own, starting something out of nothing. A lot of people wouldn’t be that brave.”
Her eyelids close and I know my words are what she needed to hear tonight.
“It’s our one wild and precious life,” she whispers. “Mary Oliver wrote that.”
