by Hope Ford
105 Desire Dr.
A Cherry Falls Romance
Hope Ford
Contents
1. Honey
2. David
3. Honey
4. Honey
5. Honey
6. Honey
7. Honey
8. Honey
9. Honey
10. Honey
11. Honey
12. Honey
13. Honey
14. Honey
15. Honey
Epilogue
Epilogue 2
Cherry Falls Romance
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About the Author
105 Desire Drive © 2021 by Hope Ford
Editor: Kasi Alexander
Proofreader: Ashley Lewis - Geeky Girl Author Services
Photographer: Regina Wamba
Cover Design: Cormar Covers
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
1
Honey
“One of these days, I imagine you’ll have some young strapping man to help load all these crates of produce into your truck,” my dad, Marcus McGee, says as he hands me the last crate of fruit.
I laugh, shaking my head at him. “Maybe,” I answer as I do every time he hints at me taking on a relationship. My golden blond hair is weaved into two Dutch girl braids so as to keep the strands out of my way while I’m working, and my dad gives one of them a tug.
“You are a stubborn one, aren’t you? You know I never thought I’d be saying this to one of my kids, but Honey, you’re a bit too picky.”
“You think so, huh?” I ask him over my shoulder as I walk over to my truck. I’m taking some extra produce into town to the Cherry Falls Pantry, and I swear I’ve had this conversation with my dad before. He’s always trying to get my sister and me hitched. It’s a running joke between us that he just wants more help on the farm. And I know this is not all I’m going to hear about my lack of dating—oh no, he’s not finished yet.
He follows me over to my truck with another box of produce. “There have been many different, eligible men who’ve stopped by the produce stand to win your attention and affection, and you haven’t given any one of them the time of day.”
I set the box down on the bed of the truck. “That’s not entirely true. Plus, as my dad, aren’t you supposed to be running off guys, not pushing me toward them?” I slide the box into the truck as he does the same next to me. My dad’s right. I just haven’t found a guy I like, though. The guys that have shown an interest, I’ve given them enough attention to know that none of them did it for me. And despite what my father is saying, I’m not going to settle for anyone who is less than extraordinary.
“Honey, by the time your mom was your age, we were married, and she was pregnant with you. I just want you to be happy, that’s all.”
I look him straight in the eye. “Do I not look happy?”
My gaze doesn’t even waver. I’m not lying to him that I just haven’t found “the one” yet. I know what kind of man I want, and I’d like to think once I find him, my dad’s going to support me in my decision. There’s no sense rushing into something that I know is not going to work.
“Dad, I’m going to remember this conversation when I bring a guy home I like and you don’t approve of him.” And I know that’s probably going to happen. My tastes seem to run more toward the independent, bad boy type, and I don’t know if my dad’s going to like that or not.
“I just want you and your sister happy. That’s all. That’s all that matters to your mom and me.”
I walk around to the driver’s side of the truck. I know if I let him, he’ll keep me cornered here all day, trying to convince me that it’s about time I settle down. You would think I’m older than my twenty-four years of age the way my dad is talking.
“Don’t work too hard today,” I tell him in farewell and drive off to the Rosewood Produce Stand at the edge of our farm that I run with the help of my sister and family.
My younger sister Ginger is running the stand and has plenty of folks lined up to buy not just because we sell great produce but because my sister Ginger, with her long brown hair, sweet smile, and friendly ways, is great for business. A lot of the females in town dislike Ginger because she’s a beautiful and self-confident woman. Men respond to confidence, and everyone responds to kindness. If only more of the women in town would take the time to get to know Ginger, they’d see that she’s an amazing person.
“You need anything from me before I head into town?” I ask her between customers. I used to only deliver to the Pantry once a week, but now I’m able to deliver every other day. Sometimes every day. This has been really important to our family to give back to the community, and I volunteered to take it on. Cherry Falls is a small town, but the Pantry still stays busy providing food and supplies to the needy families and homeless in the area.
“No. I’m good. Did you get the speech from Dad?” Ginger asks me.
We both roll our eyes. “You too, huh?”
She laughs. “You know it.”
“Ya know, he’s thinking that if he marries one of us off it’s going to save his back.”
We both laugh at that. “I’ll see you soon,” I call out the window before I drive off.
The way into town, I can’t help but wonder if my dad is right. Am I too picky?
I don’t think so. Maybe I just know what I like, and I haven’t found it yet. At least that’s what I’m thinking anyway. I’ve dated a few guys in town, was even sort of serious about one, but when he wanted to get serious, I broke it off with him. It’s not like I’m scared of commitment or anything. I do want a husband and a family. My parents have been perfect role models for how good married life can be. They’ve stuck together through it all, droughts, storms that destroyed our land, deaths in the family. They’ve always been there for each other, and it’s obvious they love each other. Probably a little too much. I grimace thinking about their constant displays of affection. But even knowing all that, I don’t think I should be rushing into anything either. Not until it feels right, anyway.
2
David
“Throw it out and make room for the new stuff I’ve got coming in,” my boss, Caroline Park, who owns The Virgin Diner, tells me. She hates being called Mrs. Park and tells everybody to call her Caroline.
“Seems like a waste of good food if you ask me,” I say, adding the day-old pies and bread to a cardboard box. “Isn’t there anywhere we can donate all this food?”
Caroline pushes up her glasses and smiles at me. “Looking at you in that beanie, and your arms inked up, I never would have taken you for a softy.”
I laugh because it is the first time I’ve ever been accused of being soft. “I just happen to know what it’s like to go without and be hungry is all.”
“It’ll be a tax write-off anyway. Can you please take the boxes to the Pantry right down the street? They’ll make good use of them. They are always taking donations for the needy.”
I get directions since I don’t remember there being a pantry when I left years ago. I’ve moved around a lot the last few years and just recently decided to come back to Cherry Falls. Luckily, the Pantry is close enough to the restaurant that I won’t have to secure the boxes onto my motorcycle and can just walk them over.
A sigh of resignation blows out between my lips as the local people, the ones that don’t remember me from when I lived here before, t
ake one look at me and either cross the street or disappear into a store or car as I stride up the sidewalk. I guess they don’t remember me. Or realize that I’m Reuben and Millie’s older brother. It’s been like this since I rolled into town last month. I know I’m big. My tattoos and long hair also seem to be out of place in this small town.
It seems that almost everyone knows everyone, and it’s quite obvious I’m an outsider. It doesn’t bother me though. I’m used to the looks. You don’t look like I do without getting the look. The only place I’ve felt like I’ve fit in since I moved back has been at the Cherry Bomb Tattoo Parlor. But even then, Ozzie, the co-owner, warned me when I was getting my sleeve finished that most people around here will take a while to warm up to me. Which is fine. I’m used to keeping to myself.
There’s a truck parked outside of the Pantry, and I see a young woman unloading crates of food and taking them inside. As I draw closer, I admire her womanly curves and just know that the sexy young lady will vanish once she notices me, especially if she catches me staring. Never mind the fact that I probably shouldn’t even be looking at her. She’s way too young for me.
To my surprise, she holds the door open for me with the last box from the bed of her truck in her arms.
“I should be holding the door for you,” I say.
“Nonsense, you’ve got two boxes and I’ve only got one.” Even though she has a soft voice, I can hear her clearly, and she has a warm, sunny smile that makes my insides melt into goo. I swear her eyes are twinkling as she looks up at me, and I have to force myself to look away.
Damn, maybe I am a big softy. And I was right. Definitely too young.
While I should be putting down the boxes I’m carrying, I find myself staring at the sexy rear end of the young lady as she bends over to set down the box she carried inside. When she straightens and catches me looking, I’m again ready for her to be afraid.
“Do you like peaches?” she asks with that sexy, warm, welcoming smile of hers. “I overfilled this box and it’s just going to keep spilling if I don’t take out a few.”
I’m thinking about how succulent her body is and how I’d like to taste her sweet peaches.
“Oh, I’m sorry. Here I am offering you fruit when your hands are full.” Her laugh is a little raspy, and it’s so sexy I have to will myself not to drop the boxes.
She takes the top box and sets it on a table, so I set the second box next to the first. “Thanks for the hand—and the peach,” I say, accepting the fruit. “I’m David Cantal.”
Her hand is soft but firm in mine as she shakes my hand. “I’m Honey McGee. It’s nice to see a new face around here. Are you planning on sticking around?”
Honey. Of course her name is something sweet like that. “You can tell I’m not from here?” I tease, and we both laugh. I guess there’s no hiding the fact that I’m not a local. At least not yet. I’ve only been gone a few years, but there’s no doubt I’ve never seen her before. I would have remembered her.
I gesture to the box. “So do you have an abundant peach tree?”
“I guess you can say that. My family owns a farm. We run the Rosewood Produce Stand.” At my blank expression, she continues. “It’s over at the Rosewood Ranch Lands.”
“Ah, okay. I’ve heard of it but haven’t been out that way in a few years.”
She continues talking about her produce stand, and I listen, thinking that she must do quite well since she’s such a sweet sexy little thing, and after I taste the peach I’m convinced she could make a killing with them in the city.
“So what about you? What do you do?” she asks, interrupting my thoughts.
“I work over at the diner.”
I watch her closely, wondering if she’s going to judge me for working at a diner. She doesn’t seem like the type, but who knows? She surprises me, though, when a moan comes from her mouth and her tongue comes out, wetting her lips. “Yum, they have the best pies.”
Fuck. That groan… those pink, wet lips are about to do me in. All I can imagine is them wrapped around my already hardening cock. I want to reach for her. I know I can’t, but damn, she’s tempting.
One of the people who work at the Pantry hands Honey a receipt for the donation, and I’m forced to say goodbye to Honey, who is far too sweet for a road eating biker like myself. Still, I can’t help hoping to see her around again.
I turn to the woman behind the counter. “I’m from the Virgin Street Diner. Caroline Parks sent me over.”
The woman thanks me for the donation and tells me she’ll get me a receipt. I stand and wait, and I can’t resist looking out the window. Honey is already in the seat of her truck and is pulling out onto the street. Man, she’s beautiful. I have a feeling when I dream tonight, it’s going to be of the blond-haired beauty and her peaches.
I thank the woman for the receipt and walk outside. Taking a deep breath, I tell myself that Honey is way too good and too young to mess with the likes of me and that I need to keep my distance.
3
Honey
“Earth to Honey,” Ginger says, giving my ribs a poke. “Where are you? I’ve been gabbing on and on, and suddenly I realize you’re not hearing a word I’m saying.”
I give my sister a guilty smile. “Sorry, I just got distracted. What were you saying?”
“Oh no, I don’t think so, sis. You had a goofy look on your face, and it’s the same one you get when you watch car racing movies.”
I tilt my head to the right, biting my lip to try and stifle my smile. “I still would be watching those movies if Dad hadn’t thrown them out,” I say, not quite ready to jump into talk of my new crush.
“He was so afraid you were going to grow up and date nothing but criminals,” Ginger laughed.
I laugh too, knowing that our father probably would be cautious if I were to introduce that sexy, tough-looking older guy I met at the Pantry, David. The guy had a dangerous edge to him, but I’m sure there’s a lot more to him than his tough looks and tattoos.
“Well? Who is it?”
“Who is who?” I ask her, playing dumb. I should have known that I couldn’t pull one over on my sister. And I don’t know why I haven’t already told her about the guy I met at the Pantry. I mean, it was one meeting. He didn’t ask me out. Sure, I’ll see him again—it is Cherry Falls, after all, but still it’s not like he has my number or anything. Heck, he may not even be interested in me. My shoulders drop. He could have already forgotten about me.
But I’ve not been able to think of anything or anyone else. He’s been on my mind nonstop. He’s not like any man I’ve met before. His long blond hair, big body and—gosh, I get goosebumps just thinking about his tattoos. He’s all I’ve thought about since I saw him the other day, and from the look of things, I’m not going to be forgetting him anytime soon.
I shrug my shoulders, trying to act like it’s not a big deal. “I met a guy at the Pantry the other day.”
“Okay,” she says, not sure where I’m going with this.
I know it’s crazy. I met him for maybe five minutes tops. But I admit to her, “I just can’t stop thinking about him.”
“Ooooh. Who is it?”
“No one you’d know,” I tell her.
She rolls her eyes and deadpans, “This is Cherry Falls, sis.”
I laugh; I can’t help it. She’s right. Everyone knows everyone here. But still, she doesn’t know him. “He’s new here. At least I don’t think he’s been here long.”
“And?”
“And nothing. I met him. We talked, but that’s it.”
She starts to respond, but we’re interrupted by a customer asking about our apples. Ginger gives me the look that she’ll be right back and she’s not forgetting this conversation before she walks off to help the woman.
A part of me is disappointed because I want to tell someone about David. I mean, it’s crazy to think that I’m still thinking of him, but I am. Luckily, another customer comes up to check out, and I get busy. Pro
ductive. That’s what I need to be. I need to stay busy and get my mind off David and quit thinking about what it’d be like if he kissed me.
David
The Virgin Street Diner usually gets their produce from a shipment company or the local grocery.
“I can’t use any of this,” Caroline complains. And I can’t blame her. The truck just left, but I can tell that the produce they just dropped off is definitely not up to par and obviously isn’t very fresh.
“You’re right, boss. I mean Caroline. You’ll probably only be able to use a third of it before it goes bad.” My thoughts go to Honey and the Pantry. Maybe I’ll have to deliver another box and just hope and pray I get to see Honey there again. It’s been two days since I met her. Two days of constantly thinking about her and two nights of stroking my cock with my hand while imagining it’s her lips wrapped around me. Don’t go there, David. Get yourself together. There’s no way to explain a hard-on while you’re at work in the middle of the day.
Caroline is looking at the boxes, and her brows are lowered as if she’s trying to solve a math problem. “Well, we could go to the grocery, but buying from there is not very cost efficient.”
I know I shouldn’t, but that doesn’t stop me. But all I’ve thought about is Honey and her peaches. Man, what I wouldn’t give to see her again. “What about the produce stand?”
As soon as the words leave my mouth, I hold my breath. I’ve had to stop myself at least ten times from driving out to the Ranch Lands and going to see Honey. She’s too good for you, David. Leave her be, I tell myself for what seems like the hundredth time. The only problem is my heart and my dick doesn’t seem to want to listen to my head.