by Sarah Peis
My eyes went wide when I saw everyone but Sunshine and me eating brownies and giggling. Where did the brownies come from? I met Sunshine’s wide eyes, and we both grinned.
“Your dad will be right over, sweetheart. He’s just finishing digging the hole in the front yard,” Lillibell said. She was sitting on the floor, swaying to music only she could hear. “We updated our bunker. Once it’s safe again, you have to come and have a look.”
“Would love to, Mom. After all, I need to know where I’ll be spending my time should the apocalypse ever happen.”
“So, Maisie, what’s new with you?” Lillibell asked, still swaying.
Sunshine mouthed words to me—Bark? Lark? Talk?—and I narrowed my eyes at her. Even though I was useless at lip reading, I knew she wanted me to tell my parents about the shop.
And I really had to do it. And what better time than now, when they were mellowed out from the brownies.
“I’m opening a shop in town,” I said, looking at Lillibell, avoiding my parents’ eyes.
She clapped her hands and lifted her head up, facing the ceiling and closing her eyes. “I knew something special would come of the prosperity ritual we did last week. Didn’t I tell you, Pip?” she said to my mom.
“You’re opening a shop? When? And why are we just learning about it now?” my mom asked.
“I’ve been renovating the old pharmacy in town. And the opening will be in two weeks.”
“Two weeks?” she yelled, her voice high-pitched. “And you’re only telling us now? We could have helped you.”
“I’m sorry, Mom. I didn’t want you to feel you had to help. I know how busy you are.”
“We are never too busy for our daughter.”
Damn, now she sounded hurt. And I couldn’t blame her.
“I meant to tell you, but then I just thought I’d get one more thing done, and before I knew it, the shop was almost ready and I still hadn’t told anyone.”
“Don’t make her feel bad about it, honey. It’s her shop. She just wasn’t ready to tell us. And you really wanted to go on the chakra retreat in Florida last month. I bet you wouldn’t have gone had you known about the shop,” Dad jumped in, helping me out as usual.
I sent him a grateful smile and put my arm around Mom and kissed her cheek. “Don’t be mad.”
“I’m not mad, honey, just disappointed you didn’t want me involved.”
Damn, now I really felt bad. But she was just so opinionated. And I wanted to do this on my own.
“I’ll give you a private tour tomorrow.” I tried giving her my best puppy dog eyes.
“All right, but I want a discount. I love that dress that you made me for my last birthday. And I want another one like it.”
I smiled at her and knew she’d already forgiven me. “Done. I’ll make another one for you, and you also get the family discount.”
She took another brownie off the tray and took a big bite. Guess that was my cue to leave. Having experienced the joy of Mom’s brownies enough times to know better than to hang around, Sunshine got up without me having to say anything.
“Hey, Mom, I need to go. But I’ll check the house out as soon as it’s safe,” she said and bent down to hug Lillibell.
After we hugged all the parents at least twice and I promised them a tour the following morning, we left.
“Stop at the store for supplies?” Sunshine asked as she pulled out of my parents’ driveway.
“God, yes,” I said and mentally added up how much money I had left in my bank account. I calculated I could afford two waffles and half a bottle of whiskey. Enough to get me through.
“Stop ringing,” I whined and batted my hand in the direction of where I guessed my phone to be. It was five in the morning on day six of my pretend daily running routine and the alarm on my phone was going off, much to my displeasure.
Anna was determined to catch me out in my lie. Even after I sent her the enrollment confirmation, she didn’t believe me. I couldn’t blame her. After all, I was lying. After she saw the date on the confirmation email she put me through an hour-long interrogation. Now, a sane person would probably just own up to it. But nobody ever accused me of being sane, so I got up every morning—grudgingly—and put on my running clothes.
They looked cute, and I loved wearing them. Today’s outfit was comprised of lavender shorts that hugged my butt like a glove. I liked to call them my push-up pants. Zoned compression should be a thing for all pants, not just sports clothes. I’d have to investigate it further for my own line.
But for now, I was happy to pay too much for clothes that I would only ever wear to walk down to the coffee shop. My top was a dark blue loose-fitting tank with a built-in bra. Straps crisscrossed down my back, making it the perfect piece to complete my outfit.
I tied up my hair in a sloppy ponytail, put on my brand-new running shoes, and skipped down the stairs. Maybe I would have an almond croissant today as well. I always went to Sweet Dreams during my pretend runs. And their coffee was amazing. It was no problem spending an hour there. And Rayna, the owner, was sworn to secrecy. She was Willa’s aunt, only a few years older than us, and by far our favorite person. And not just because she kept us supplied with as much sugar as our bodies could handle. She was also one of the nicest people around.
The house was quiet when I made my way to the front door, but I knew Anna would be up to check on me. I closed the door behind me, careful to engage the latch without waking anyone up. The curtain in Anna’s window moved, and I waved to her before I started a slow jog down the road. As soon as I made it around the corner, I stopped and walked, the short run having winded me, making it hard to breathe. Some people must really like torture. Because that was all running was.
“Taking a break already?” The deep voice made me trip. But before I could fall on my face, muscular arms held me up and pulled me close to a familiar body. I allowed myself to bury my nose in the comforting smell of Oliver before I stepped back, remembering my resolve.
“Just starting off slow. You know, needed to stretch first. What are you doing here?” I said and put more distance between us. I pulled my arm over my head and began stretching.
“Anna told me you were training for a marathon. I thought I’d train with you. I run every morning.”
Oh no, no, no, no, he couldn’t do this to me. Why would he run with me? Did he ask Anna about me? Or did she mention me? Were they talking about me? Did he care more than I thought? Did he want to be my friend? Or continue our hookups? And why was my arm stuck behind my head? How did people stretch like that?
“I don’t know if you could keep up with me. And I’m on a very strict training schedule,” I said in a last-ditch effort to stay away from him. I finally dislodged my arm and successfully stopped the wince that wanted to escape.
I lunged sideways for a stretch but miscalculated how far I could go. My eyes went wide and my breath faltered for a moment. I was frozen in my stretch, trying not to let my face distort in pain. Oh, the pain. I wondered if I could ever stand up again. The only saving grace was that Oliver was waving at someone driving past and hadn’t seen my move.
“You ready?” he said and grinned. My resolve to not run with him melted away like an ice cube thrown into a fire. I hated it when he flashed his annoying dimple at me. Stupid things were like catnip to my system. I figured one little run wouldn’t do any harm. Like a slow detachment process so I wouldn’t put my body into shock by not seeing him anymore. And running was supposed to be good for you after all.
“Let’s do it,” I said, groaning when I moved my legs back into a normal position. Running was a danger to my health. But no way would I just admit that I had fake signed up for a marathon and pretended to train every morning. I mean, who would do that?
I looked at Oliver, who was dressed in a T-shirt and shorts, and my eyes wandered over his body. I tried telling myself that his muscles weren’t that impressive. And that his piercing blue eyes didn’t pull me in at all. And his smi
le didn’t light all my lady parts on fire. And when did I start calling them that, anyway?
Ugh, this had to stop. He was messing with my head.
“Let’s do this,” I said, scaring myself with how cheerful my voice sounded. Someone clearly hadn’t gotten the memo that my body was about to be tortured.
We started running, and it didn’t take more than two minutes for my breath to escape in quick puffs. A few wheezing gasps later, I had to slow down. Another three minutes and it turned into gulps for air. Another minute and I was bent over, throwing up into Dora’s rosebushes.
“What’s wrong? Are you okay?” Oliver appeared beside me, his forehead furrowed. He put an arm around me and helped me sit down on the curb once there was nothing left to bring up.
I was too embarrassed to talk and didn’t even protest when he helped me up and led me down the road. I didn’t care where he took me, as long as it had a bathroom where I could clean up. The walk took longer than my poor abused legs were used to, but I couldn’t go back to my house and I couldn’t drag him to Rayna’s, or he would know what was going on.
We ended up in his room at the bed-and-breakfast, and I went straight to the sink, splashing water on my face. I grabbed his toothpaste next and scrubbed my teeth with my finger. I was so embarrassed.
A knock sounded on the door, and I stopped scrubbing.
“Everything okay in there?”
“I’ll be right out,” I mumbled around the toothpaste. Shouldn’t have used half the tube. After putting the toothpaste back, splashing water on my face, and cursing myself for being such a mess, I opened the door to face Oliver.
He stood right outside but stepped back when I came out. I didn’t look at him, instead deciding that a quick escape was the only move I had if I wanted to save what was left of my dignity.
I barely made it out of the bathroom before a hand on my arm stopped me. “Where are you going?”
“Home.” Where I’ll hide under the covers and pretend this never happened.
“If you’re sick, you shouldn’t be alone.”
The concern in his voice made me look up, and I met his worried gaze. “I’ll be fine. Just ate something wrong.”
“Why don’t you lie down until you feel better?”
I eyed the bed and couldn’t stop the flash of heat spreading through me. It was a comfortable bed. One where I had spent many hours, all of them amazing. I could just lie down for a bit. It didn’t have to mean anything. I did just run nearly a mile. I was feeling faint. My legs hurt. I could just rest for a few minutes. I deserved it.
Oliver noticed my hesitation and put his arm around me, steering me toward the bed. “I don’t want to be responsible for you fainting on your way home. Just rest for a few minutes.”
“Just for a few minutes,” I murmured and sat on the edge of the bed. Oliver kneeled down in front of me and lifted one of my legs, removing first my right shoe, then the left.
I moved onto the bed and curled up on my side, watching Oliver kick off his own shoes. He walked around to the other side, and I felt the bed depress when he got on. His warm chest hit my back, and his arm curled around me.
I instantly relaxed into him, refusing to think what it meant. I was tired. And I decided going cold turkey didn’t work for me. I had to wean myself off Oliver slowly, so a little contact was okay. It didn’t mean I would slide back into old habits.
One second we were spooning, and I was falling asleep; the next I was moaning and arching into a hand on my breast. Another hand was covering my mound, caressing me over my pants. When I felt soft lips on my neck, I knew I would not stop a thing. Because if his hands were magic, his lips were nirvana.
I moaned and turned to face him, my hands wandering up his chiseled abs and finding their way to his hair. I wanted to hold him in place and not let go. Keep him anchored to me for as long as I could. He traced his tongue down my neck and started kissing every inch of my skin.
There was not a thing I could do but arch into his touch, hoping he would never stop kissing me.
“How are you feeling?” he asked, stopping what he was doing.
“Fantastic,” I whispered back, not trusting myself to speak any louder for fear of it turning into another moan.
Satisfied with my answer, he started trailing light kisses over my cheek, forehead, and then mouth. “Your head doesn’t hurt? No more nausea?” he asked in between putting his magical lips on me.
I guess all my squirming and loud panting wasn’t clear enough to express how good I felt right now. I’d better show him so he’d stop wasting time talking that was better spent kissing. I was greedy when it came to Oliver, and I wanted all he had to give.
I pushed up, and he leaned back, letting me take control. “I’m fine. Stop worrying,” I said.
When he was on his back, I went to work doing my favorite thing in the world: making Oliver lose control. It was my turn to kiss every inch I could reach in my frenzy to make it to my goal. It didn’t take much to get me excited when Oliver touched me, but where I was easily turned on, he only seemed to need a single touch and he was ready.
I loved that I was the one who could do this to him. For once, I was in control. My dating life so far had been disastrous, inside the bedroom and out. But not even my ex-fiancé had ever made me feel as desired as Oliver did. So who could blame a girl for wanting to hold on to the only man to ever give her multiple orgasms? And to put a cherry on top of this disaster cake, he was also a nice guy.
I continued down his abs, licking the dips and valleys and enjoying his hissed breath. When I made it to my destination, I freed his cock from his pants, and my mouth watered at the sight. He was perfect and big and all mine for now. I trailed my tongue from his tip down to his base and back again.
“Stop teasing me,” he groaned and held my hair in a soft grip.
Since I wanted to make him feel as good as he made me feel, I took him into my mouth as far as he would go. There was only Oliver; nothing else mattered at the moment. Except his dick. Because that mattered very much. I had big plans for it.
I didn’t get very far because before I could even get out all my good moves—and with the amount of time I’d spent in the bedroom with Oliver over the last few months, I had developed some kickass moves—he pulled me up and over him.
I didn’t have time to do more than gasp before he entered me. And just like every time, it felt better than what I remembered. I sat up, putting my hands on his pecs, and moved slowly, savoring every touch, every groan he emitted.
It didn’t take my body long to become one big live wire, and I soon hurdled over the edge, wishing I could hold on to that indescribable feeling but unable to stop what was inevitable.
Oliver followed soon after me, our bodies taking over. I collapsed on his chest, panting hard. This was the only time I enjoyed breathing hard. And as usual, I felt like I was home being connected to Oliver like this.
After what seemed like not enough time, Oliver turned to the side, taking me with him and disconnecting us. I groaned, feeling the loss of him down to my toes.
“I have a meeting in half an hour,” he said and kissed my nose. “Feel free to join me in the shower.”
He touched his lips to mine and got up. I flopped back on the bed once I heard the shower start.
“There is something seriously wrong with me,” I muttered, then got up as well. I collected my clothes from the floor, cursing myself the entire time. I couldn’t find my panties, but I could make my escape without them. The shower was still going, and it was now or never.
I was getting good at getting dressed in less than ten seconds, and today was another stellar example of it. I deserved a high five. Maybe I’d tell Sunshine later so I could impress her with my skills. After she yelled at me for being so damn weak and giving in to Oliver again.
I snuck out of the room and quietly closed the door behind me.
“Motherfucker,” I yelled and dove behind Sunshine’s van that I had borrowed sin
ce I didn’t have a car. My intel was wrong. Bud Lawton hadn’t settled down a bit and still didn’t like people on his farm. I didn’t even have time to take more than two steps toward his front porch before he fired the buckshot.
“Mr. Lawton. Stop shooting. It’s Maisie.”
“I don’t care what your name is. Get off my property. I’m not selling.”
“Well, that’s good since I don’t want to buy anything.”
I peeked out from behind the car and saw him standing on the top step, his gun still in his hand, but at least he wasn’t aiming it in my direction anymore.
“Why else would you be here?” he grumbled.
“To have a chat. Nothing else.”
“Don’t you have any friends you could chat with?”
I stepped out from behind the car and put my hands on my waist. “Of course I have friends. Tons of them. Great friends. And I can chat with them whenever I want. But today I want to talk to you.”
“You sure they’re your friends? Sounds to me like they don’t want to talk to you.”
“How would you know anything about friends? You sure don’t have any.”
Well, that escalated quickly. I should just shut up and get back in my car. Maybe I could send someone else. Like Mom. She’d know all the right things to say.
There was some grumbling, but he finally took his finger off the trigger and rested the firearm on his porch. Progress.
“Sorry. Shouldn’t have said that,” I tried in my apologetic voice number two. It was soft and reassuring but not too meek. That was apologetic voice number one’s job. She only came out when I really screwed up and the only way out was to beg on my knees while holding a pie. And that voice was a winner. Which was proven this morning when my parents came to the shop. They weren’t even a little mad anymore when I presented them with the baked goods. My dad was especially happy because he knew there was real sugar in it.
“Don’t care. It’s true. Now, what do you want? I’m watching Friends and can’t find the remote to pause it.”
“I love Friends,” I shouted, too loud even to my own ears. “We can just continue our chat inside.”
