"Get a photo of this," he called.
He'd clamored under the railing and stood in the old kitchen holding the handle of a butter churn.
"You can't do that," I hissed, pointing to the "do not enter" sign. "That's a valuable historical... thing."
"I'm not hurting it. I'm just posing."
When he grinned, I couldn't refuse.
"One photo," I got out my phone then looked around to make sure no one saw us.
He did a grim face. The kind of face people have in old photos, that look of trying to hold an expression for way too long. I laughed and the photo came out blurry.
I tried again.
"You'll have to message it to me."
He gave me his number and I shot it through to him.
His phone beeped and he grinned. "Now I have your number," he said. "Sneaky of me, huh?"
"You could've asked for it," I said as we moved the next exhibit.
"You'd have given it to me?"
I shrugged. "Maybe. Maybe not."
"See, sneaky is better."
Before we'd gotten halfway around the museum, the ring of schoolgirl giggles cut through the silence. They weren't kids on a school trip and kids don't come to this place for larks. Word had gotten out that Ethan was here.
"This is going to be trouble," I said.
There was about half a dozen of them. All short skirts and too much makeup. Ethan waved and a palpable flurry of tension went through them. The giggles and squeals grew high pitched. One of the girls waved back and her friend slapped her on the arm.
"Just a moment," Ethan walked over to the group. "One photo a piece and if you want something signed, I'll do that too but get in an orderly line."
The squeals grew shriller. Then he put his arm around the first girl as her friend took a photo and the screams pierced my eardrums.
I sat on a bench and waited for him.
I'd seen Ethan at the party and I'd seen him with me today but I hadn't really connected that Ethan was a star. Sure, I joked about him being famous but that'd just been joking around. Seeing him with those schoolgirls really drove the point home.
I picked at the frayed edges of a hole in my jeans. The whole world knew his name. A major percentage of the female population wanted him in their bed, or his bed or any bed. Not even a bed, but up against a wall or in the back seat of a car. Basically, every woman in the world wanted to shag him.
We'd had an afternoon together and that was something most women would kill for. I caught the thread under my nail, untangling it from the others. Why couldn't he be a regular guy? Someone with a nine to five job and a face no one recognized?
Because, at some point during the day, I'd come to like Ethan, and that was the very thing I had to fight against.
Sophie
THE NEXT MORNING, I decided not to wake Ethan. Making him come with me to the market didn't seem funny anymore and it wasn't a good idea to spend any more time with him. It'd be much easier to go on my own with no disturbing feelings. I'd let the whole Ethan thing fade away.
I'd just finished brushing my teeth when someone knocked on the door.
Ethan?
Surely not. He'd still be in bed snoring his head off.
But, when I opened the door, he stood there, wearing an old pair of jeans and a t-shirt. I blinked but he didn't disappear. Those might be old jeans but they sure fit him just right, pulling tight over his muscular thighs. And, if the jeans fit just right, that t-shirt hugged his body almost tight enough to be illegal.
Damn the man. He might be totally egotistical but he wasn't wrong about his looks. People shouldn't look that good first thing in the morning. That tousled bed hair made him look all the sexier.
"I thought it'd be easier for me to meet you here rather than you going to the hotel," he said. "Thank God, I got the right house. Got me worried that I'd been banging on someone else's door at this ungodly hour, and they'd answer the door with a shotgun."
He laughed and I pulled him inside. Him coming to the store yesterday had been bad enough. If anyone saw him on my doorstep at this time of morning, I'd never hear the end of it.
"Ready to go?" he asked.
I nodded then paused. I looked a mess. I could rush to the bathroom and slap on a little makeup. At least mascara and lip gloss. But who put on makeup to go to the market at the crack of dawn?
I shook myself. This wasn't a date, nothing like it. There was no need for makeup or anything fancier than my shorts and t-shirt. I'd done my hair into braids then pinned them up, tying a bandanna around my head to keep the lot in place. Nothing about my look was glamorous. And it'd just get worse when I got to the market and put on my rubber apron and gloves.
"Let's go," I said and led him through the house to the garage.
"No unicorns this morning," Ethan said, indicating my feet.
I blushed. "Nope. They'd never survive that wet, concrete floor. It'd only take a few minutes and they'd be wet, bedraggled unicorns."
"I thought unicorns were tougher than that."
I shook my head. "They're delicate unicorns. Boots are much better. They keep my feet dry."
He scrunched up his nose then looked down at his feet. Despite the old clothes he had on, those were some expensive looking runners.
"I didn't realize we'd get wet."
"There are some rubber boots of Jimmy's in the back of the van," I said. "I'm sure they'll fit you."
We got in the van and took off, the first rays of sun coming over the hills.
"It's beautiful." Ethan looked up at the red-tinged sky.
"I bet you don't see sunrise often."
"I see sunrise lots. Usually from the other side though." He smiled sheepishly. "I'm a creature of the night, not like you."
"Ha, I'm no early bird. Not naturally. But you can't sell flowers if you don't have the stock and to get the stock, you have to go to the market."
"It's crazy early."
"That's how you get the best stock. You don't want stuff that the other buyers have picked over. I tried ordering from an online wholesaler for a while but there was only one who'd deliver all the way out here and the stuff I got was second rate. Just because you live in a country town, doesn't mean you have to settle for crap."
He rolled down the window and leaned his elbow on the ledge. "Been years since I've done that manually," he said with a laugh.
I glanced over, not sure what he meant then remembered most cars made this century had automatic windows.
"Yeah, the van's a classic," I said. "But it's mostly reliable."
"Mostly?"
I grinned. "It's only broken down a couple of times. Are you any good at fixing cars?"
"Ha, you just want me to strip my top off and get all greasy."
I hadn't been thinking of that at all but now he'd put the picture in my head, it was hard to get rid of. It made a very nice picture, indeed. But I couldn't think of Ethan that way, having the same fantasies as every other fangirl, and about as much chance of those fantasies coming true.
"Have you always wanted to be a florist?" he asked. "Was it your childhood dream?"
I gulped. That wasn't something I talked about with anyone. Not that many people asked. With Mum gone, no one really cared about my dreams and my future.
I wasn't sure I wanted to talk about it now, especially with a near-stranger. But it weighed on me and maybe it was easier to blurt it all out to someone who'd be gone soon. I couldn't be unguarded with anyone in town except Janice, and I didn't want to say things that hurt her.
"Want to know the truth? I hate it. I never wanted to be a florist. Well, technically I'm not really a florist. That's Janice. I just run the business."
"So, why do it?"
"When I left school, I wanted to go to university. Collinsville is a good town in many ways but there's not much opportunity and I hate the way everyone's up in everyone else's business. Finally, I escaped. I wasn't even sure what I wanted to do. I just wanted to be gone. Then Mom got
sick. There'd only been the two of us for years. Dad left when I was a kid and Mom had the store to support us. At first, I thought I could defer for a year or two to look after her. She'd get better and I'd go back to school. Didn't work out that way, though."
I stopped talking. Since the funeral, I'd pushed all thoughts of her death aside. I focused on the business and keeping my life going. I pulled my lips into a tight line. I wouldn't cry now. I'd never cried.
"She didn't make it?" he asked. "Shit, Sophie. I'm sorry to hear that."
"She didn't make it." I didn't say any more.
"But afterward, you could've left..."
I shook my head.
"I thought about it. I thought about it a lot. But I couldn't sell the store. This town's dying. Surely you've noticed that. Shops boarded up in the main street. People moving out. It's not so bad now the recording studio opened. At least we get sticky beaks and groupies coming through. None of them buy flowers, of course."
"That's tough"
"Even if I found a buyer, they'd probably shut down the shop, opening a different business. What would Janice do? And Jimmy the delivery guy? And everyone else. In a small town, it's like dominoes. One business goes under, it hurts everyone. My small store might not count for much but that small bit of business might be keeping someone else afloat. I can't just walk away."
He nodded. "Sounds complicated."
"Sure is. Maybe, one day when Janice wants to retire, I'll think about it. Who knows what's going to happen in this life? But for now, it's early mornings and flowers."
He smiled at me and, stupidly, something about that smile made me feel that everything would be okay. My life wouldn't just be this forever. I had no idea what the future would hold but it would be a future worth waiting for.
"It's not that bad really, not most of the time," I said. "I have to work somewhere and at least I'm my own boss. I learned the business side of things real fast."
"What about friends? Boyfriends? You must have something more than work."
"Most of my friends left town after school. We kept in touch for a while and sometimes they come home but you just drift away."
He nodded. "I know. It's hard. Your life changes and you have nothing in common but memories."
"Come on. You must have loads of friends."
He swept his hand through his hair. A simple gesture but disturbingly hot. I had to keep my eyes on the road not on him.
"Not really. A bunch of hangers-on. You could bet your ass they'd be gone the minute the fame and the money run out. On to the next thing. Then there's the rest of the band. We're closer than family. I'd die for those guys but sometimes, when we've been on tour for a few months, I want to kill them too. It's a tough relationship."
Something in his voice made me think that under the surface, Ethan wanted to be more than just a party boy.
"Touring must be great, though. You get to travel the world."
"It's not all it's cracked up to be. Most of the time it's work and more work."
"And parties," I added. I wasn't buying his lonely cowboy routine. There was too much evidence on the Internet to prove otherwise.
"And parties." He shot me a cheeky grin. "But they're all the same. It's not like the scene ever changes even if the scenery does. Hey, that's a really good line. I need to write it down."
He fumbled in his pocket, arching his body up to get access.
"There should be a pencil in the glove box if you need one."
He grabbed it then tore a scrap of paper out of my notebook and scribbled down the line.
"I guess I could've put that in my phone but it feels more real when you write something down."
I nodded, knowing exactly what he meant.
"Hold on, we're coming to the drag strip," I told him, putting my foot to the floor.
He hooted. I hooted too. There was something magic about driving fast in the first strains of morning light, the windows down creating a breeze. This is what freedom felt like. I'd have to be sensible on the way back, making sure the buckets of flowers didn't tumble over, but for now, all I needed was this road.
And Ethan beside me. But that was a thought I could never have.
Ethan
IT'D KILLED ME GETTING out of bed that damn early but I had something to prove. If Sophie could do it, I could too, and I wouldn't have her banging on my door to wake me up like I was a damn kid.
By the time we got to the market, my energy flagged, though.
After we parked, Sophie handed me the rubber boots to put on and a visibility vest. Far from my sexiest outfit ever. She put a rubber apron and vest on herself as well. For some reason, it suited her.
We walked through the rows with buckets and buckets of flowers of every description. I hadn't even known there were so many types of flowers in this world.
"Those red ones are pretty," I said, just to make conversation.
"They look like they won't last more than a day or two. We need stuff that will last."
She walked along a bit and began bargaining with an old man. That poor old guy didn't stand a chance. Sophie set her mouth in a line and didn't move an inch. In the end, he caved.
I grinned. She was a formidable woman.
"Can you run those buckets back to the van?" she asked me, handing me the keys. "We'll get this done a lot faster that way."
I grabbed the industrial-sized buckets, two handles in each hand. As I tried to lift them, I grunted. Had she heard that? I was a strong guy. I worked out. I had muscle to spare but those damn buckets weren't light.
"Do you usually carry these yourself?" I asked her.
My balls shrunk. I looked like the biggest soft cock in the world, struggling with a load a tiny chick like Sophie could handle easily.
She side eyed me then threw her head back, laughing.
"What?"
"There are trolleys at the end of the row," she said.
"I don't need a trolley," I told her. "I was just asking."
Her mouth twitched. "Well make sure you lift with your knees, not your back. I'm not sure your fans will be impressed seeing you hobble around the stage with a bad back."
I hadn't thought of that. But still, using a trolley seemed a bit soft.
"If you're going to carry them, maybe two at a time is enough."
I nodded. "I could carry all four but I have to think of my fans."
"Hell yeah. I don't want to be responsible for the shattered dreams of women the world over."
She moved on to the next stall leaving me to handle the buckets. As I walked off, the old man at the stall laughed. Damn old man. Those buckets weren't just heavy but awkward to carry. The metal handle cut into my hands and I had to hold them just right or the flowers would get crushed. While I walked, the water in them sloshed all down my legs.
After I had them loaded, I found Sophie. She had more flowers for me to take back to the van.
"This your new assistant?" the guy at the stall asked.
"Nah, he's a famous rock star," Sophie said.
The stall holder slapped his knee, laughing. "Good one, Sophie."
I raised my eyebrows, wanting to protest. But arguing about that would only waste precious energy.
After a few trips to the van, I got the hang of things. Water had soaked completely through the legs of my jeans, and my t-shirt was pretty damp too. Also, I had that yellow flower shit sticking to me. I tried to rub it off but it just smeared.
My aim had been to impress this woman. Instead, I'd looked like a damn pussy who struggled to carry a few buckets and I'd become wet, sloppy flower man.
The next load had bunches of lavender. That rubbed against me too so that I smelled like an old lady's underwear drawer. I thought this morning at the market would raise my stakes with Sophie but the way things were going, I was on a rapid downhill slide.
As I went back in to find her, those trolleys looked like a viable option but I couldn't back down now. I'd half-filled the van. We wouldn't need that many
more flowers, surely.
I found Sophie chatting with a man selling carnations at one of the end stalls. I bet he thought I was her assistant, too.
"Last load," she said.
I tried not to look too relieved.
She smiled, really smiled at me. Her smiles were rare but that one lifted my spirits.
"Ethan!" Sophie grabbed me and pulled me tight to her body.
Wow, this really worked. She held me so close that I could smell her warm body even over the scent of a million flowers. I put my arms around her waist. If she wanted to get intimate in the middle of this market, who was I to stop her? Maybe the flowers made her horny.
Those lips of hers looked so soft and perfect for kissing too. I'd kiss her tenderly, teasing her as my hands caressed her body.
Before I made my move, a forklift whizzed past, almost clipping me.
"Got to be careful of those things," she said, letting go. "Mostly they're okay but some of the drivers are rogues."
She released my body so fast, I reeled. I tried to justify the pounding of my heart as being from the narrow escape. While other parts of my body pounded on a regular basis, my heart never did.
"Ah... thanks," I said. "You saved my life."
"Just keep a lookout," she said. "Especially at this end of the market."
"Sure thing." I grabbed the buckets she pointed at and headed back to the van. She walked with me.
"That's it?"
"That's it. Thanks for helping out. It would've have taken me twice as long on my own. I usually head straight back to the shop but since we're finished early, maybe we should grab some breakfast first."
"Those are the greatest words I've ever heard." My stomach rumbled in agreement.
We headed across the road to one of the cafes. It wasn't too busy, just a few market workers on their break and some old ladies. Most of them said hello to Sophie as she walked in. A couple of the old ladies eyed me up.
"Got yourself a new boyfriend?" one of them asked.
I much preferred to be seen as a boyfriend than an assistant so I nodded. Sophie slapped me.
"Don't tell them that," she said but she didn't seem too concerned.
We found a table in the back.
Rock Mayhem: 8 Complete Rock Star Romance Novels Page 89
