by Ana Ashley
I shouldn’t really complain about not spending more time with him in the store. The man was sex on legs, very shapely, thick legs that went on and on, ending in the best ass I’d ever seen. I was a bottom through and through; there was nothing I liked more than the feeling of a hard cock filling me up and hitting the right spot, but I was wondering if Wren’s ass would make me change my mind.
“Get out of my head, you urghhh,” I shouted as I pulled back the covers and got out of bed toward the bathroom.
“And you can go right down,” I said to my dick. “You’re no longer my friend, and if you don’t stop with your stupid ideas about wanting the walking icicle I’ll stop using the glitter soap you like.”
I pondered over taking a cold shower, but I was determined to not let thoughts of Wren’s ass, or his hard chest, change my morning routine and my super-hot shower.
Instead, I thought of my plans for the Pride window as I turned the water on and waited for it to be warm enough for me to step in the shower. I’d finally finished my plans and just needed to ask Troy if he could help me with some technical stuff before I showed it to Abi.
A rush of energy ran through me as I imagined bringing the window to life, placing furniture in the right place, the rug, fake fireplace, logs, and the photo frames and throw that would be the center pieces that held the scene together.
I stepped into the shower and let the warm water cascade over my skin, relaxing me.
As usual, my mind rarely obeyed my instructions and it started thinking about what Wren would think of my ideas for the window. Would he like it? Would he think it’s too boring?
Wren never spent much time around me in the store, it had only been a few days and I could count on the fingers of my hand how many minutes we’d actually spent speaking to each other.
Did he think I was too much? And why the hell did I even care what he thought of me? For the love of fairy dust and all that glitters, Wren was a straight man who couldn’t be less interested.
I put my frustration into picking the right outfit for today. As my idol said once, dress like you’re going to meet your worst enemy. So I did: tailored navy slacks, pink shirt, and navy vest, topped with a handkerchief popping out of the breast pocket.
“Wow, you’re dressed to kill,” Ben said when I walked into Bookmarked.
Ellie, his best friend and Charlie’s sister-in-law, looked up from her book and whistled.
“Well, thanks.” I did a full twirl, lifting a foot to show off the red sole of my shoe.
“Oh my god, are those…?”
“They are indeed, my friend. They cost me a full month’s salary a couple years ago but they’re worth every cent.”
Ben laughed. “Yeah, I have a book signed by A. Lawton that makes me feel the same way.”
“A book cost you two grand?”
“Fuck no, but something doesn’t need to be expensive to make you feel good.”
“So true. Coco said the best things in life are free, the second best are very expensive.”
We left Ellie looking after Bookmarked and crossed the square toward Spilled Beans. I congratulated myself for only looking back once at my empty future store.
Indy wasn’t behind the counter so we got a drink each and sat at one of the tables by the window facing the square.
“I’m going to enter the Pride bake-off,” I said.
Ben snorted. “Are you serious? Do you know what happened last year?”
“Yeah, Indy told me.”
I looked at the store across the square. “I haven’t got the first clue about baking. If it was a sewing contest…”
“I’m sure you’d win hands down. Why do you want to enter the bake-off?”
“The prize money. I have no clue if I have a chance in hell of winning, but by Coco and all that is shiny, if I win I can open my store.”
I took a sip of my coffee, put the cup down, and set my notebook on the table.
“I need a plan…and a lot of bakeware.”
“And a fire extinguisher,” Indy said, joining us with his own cup of coffee in hand.
I threw him a deadly look I didn’t mean and he laughed.
“Do you know what the challenges are yet?”
“No, but I figured I could practice anyway. I’m going to start easy and bake a cake.”
Indy stopped halfway through sipping his coffee to laugh. “Easy? Man, you really have no idea, have you?”
“No.” I stood up, curled my hand into a fist and bumped it against my chest. I looked up to the ceiling and proclaimed, “I haven’t got a unicorn’s ass clue about baking, but I’ll be damned if I’m not going to win this competition.”
In my self-absorbed state of mind, I’d forgotten there were a handful of people in the coffee shop, who all cheered at my declaration.
I plopped back down on my chair and called out to Indy’s barista, “Jake, can I get a rainbow cupcake with extra sprinkles please? I need to recharge my superpowers.”
After serving his customers, Jake placed the cupcake and a fresh cup of coffee in front of me. I ran my finger through the icing and licked it clean, the smooth sweet taste of the buttercream giving me instant happiness.
“I hear Wren is back,” Ben said.
“Yeah, he’s been coming by for coffee almost every day,” Indy said.
Ignoring their comments, I put a fork through the cupcake, cutting it in half and filling my mouth with the soft vanilla sponge.
“I think I’m going to make a vanilla cake and fill it with buttercream,” I said. “I found this recipe online; it looks pretty simple. I need to get the ingredients and a baking tin.”
When I looked up from the crumbs of my cupcake both Indy and Ben were staring at me.
“What?”
They looked at each other and then Ben leaned across to put his hand on my forehead.
“Temperature seems fine. How’s the pulse?” he asked and Indy pressed his fingers on the inside of my wrist and pretended to look at his non-existent watch.
“A little faster than normal, but nothing to be concerned about.”
I rolled my eyes and put my notebook back in my bag, readying myself to leave. I had groceries to buy, and a baking tin that I knew I’d only get in one place in Chester Falls.
“Sounds like someone is avoiding a certain topic of conversation,” Ben said.
“Would it be the same someone who currently works for said topic of conversation?” Indy replied.
I sat back on my chair and pretended to pick a piece of lint off my vest.
“You two clearly think you’re onto something there, so why don’t you spit it out so we can all carry on with our day?” I said as nonchalantly as I could.
My two friends shared another look but it was Ben that spoke.
“So, how long have you been attracted to Wren? And I’m not accepting anything less than the day you met.”
I sent Indy a pleading look but it seemed I was outnumbered. What could I tell them? That yes, I was super attracted to a guy who I’d barely had a conversation with, who was undoubtedly straight, and even if he wasn’t he’d be off-limits on account of being my boss.
In the past I’d never had to rein in my attraction to a man, but now more than ever I couldn’t afford to lose my job. In Boston I could go to any upmarket store and get a job on the back of my career with Clarence’s. In Chester Falls there not only weren’t as many well-paid jobs but if I caused trouble for the Masons no doubt I’d find it extra hard to get a new job.
So, no. There was no point going there and thinking about Wren in any kind of way other than a boss slash work colleague.
The dinging bell on the door saved me from replying to Ben’s question because his gaze zeroed in on Tristan who was coming in. The connection between them was so special I felt like an intruder watching them as Tristan approached and stole a kiss before he sat next to Ben.
“Anyone been to Mason’s recently? Who’s the hot guy?” Tristan asked.
; Ben elbowed him, which made me chuckle because he didn’t even look mad at the comment.
“Baby, you know I’m all yours,” Tristan said, pulling Ben closer.
“I know.” Ben whispered something in Tristan’s ear and I saw him adjusting in his seat. God, when was the last time I’d had that kind of intimacy with someone else? Joked, teased? Had I ever had it?
“That’s Wren,” Indy said. “He’s Jonas and Abi’s eldest son. He lives in California, but I guess he came back because of Jonas.”
“Anyone care about my cake?” I asked, letting some of my frustration show, and hoping they’d think it was baking related rather than Wren related.
“I’ll help you with whatever you need, but first you have to answer Ben’s question,” Indy said.
I huffed and they both shrugged. Tristan looked confused.
“Fine, I confess, he’s attractive.”
Indy gestured for me to carry on.
“I’m going to need another cupcake and a free coffee,” I demanded, and it took a whole ten seconds for both to appear in front of me. I’d need to be careful around Jake because he had the hearing of a moth, it seemed.
“Okay, okay, I’m attracted to Wren. I mean, who wouldn’t? Have you seen the guy? He’s like a Ralph Lauren walking advert. But it doesn’t matter because he’s straight and he’s my bosses’ son. Also, he can’t stand me so there’s that too. Can we go back to more important issues, like how am I going to win the bake-off?”
None of them argued with my reasoning so I accepted that they agreed with me. Good.
I realized then that it was possible that both Ben and Indy had attended the same school as Wren. I wondered if he’d been as closed off and quiet as a teenager as he seemed now. One thing I would have bet my mom’s pearls on, and that was how gorgeous he would have been back then.
He was a football player, according to Abi, so I bet he had all the girls hanging from his arms begging for attention, and the gay kids watching from afar, feeling jealous they didn’t stand a chance.
I shook my errant thoughts off and opened my notebook again to show Indy my shopping list. He looked at it and added some items I didn’t have on there, such as parchment paper and a hand mixer. Yep, I needed to go to Mason’s because there was no way the grocery store would have the mixer.
8
Wren
The first thought I had when I woke up was that Tom was off work today. As I lay in bed, the sun rising slowly outside, I ignored the need to touch my aching morning wood.
What I couldn’t ignore was the feeling in my chest when I thought of spending the day on my own at the store. It was probably natural that after so many years away I was apprehensive about being in the store on my own. After all, there would be no one to answer those questions I used to know the answers to.
Despite only working in the store just over a month, Tom seemed to know everything and everyone. He knew the regular customers, what they liked, where everything was in the storeroom, and he seemed to thrive on finding the one item customers didn’t know they needed until Tom told them about it.
He was a good salesman, but he also cared about the people. That much was evidenced by the people that seemed to come in just to greet him almost on a daily basis.
Yesterday I’d caught myself watching him from afar as he’d given a guy advice on what to wear for a job interview. He’d asked questions about what kind of job it was and who he’d been working for, and then he’d offered advice for the interview itself.
“Remember, they are the ones with the problem. They need someone to do the job. You’re interviewing them, not the other way round. They have more to lose by picking the wrong person. Your only job is to show them you’re the right one,” he’d said to the guy, who couldn’t have been more than twenty years old but looked like he desperately needed the opportunity from his focus as he’d hung on Tom’s every single word.
I too had been hung on Tom, but not just his words. I’d been hung on the way his hands moved when he talked as thought they were an extension of his words, the way his clothes fitted him perfectly in a style that was so much Tom I was not sure there would have been another person in the world that would pull it off so effortlessly.
I’d been so distracted that I hadn’t reacted fast enough when the conversation between Tom and the guy had ended. Tom’s eyes had caught mine from behind the shelves and he’d stopped, plastering a smile on his face as the guy had thanked him for his help and left the store.
He’d looked down for a moment, but when he’d looked back up at me he’d said the guy needed help and couldn’t afford to buy anything from us. Then he’d left toward the storeroom, coming out a little while later with a basket full of notebooks, pens, and other stuff for the stationery shelf.
He’d had his usual defiant look on but there was also something else. He cared about Mason’s, and I’d bet he felt bad that he hadn’t got a sale from the customer, but at the same time I’d seen how he’d spoken to the customer, which showed a side of Tom I hadn’t met. I’d wanted to tell him that it hadn’t mattered, and that if the guy got the job he’d likely come back to the store and buy something for himself with the paycheck, but that would also have meant admitting I’d pretty much witnessed the whole conversation.
I pulled the covers off me and got up in frustration. Normally I’d go out for a run, but my knee was still giving me some trouble and I didn’t want to push it. It was early enough so I decided to go over to my parents’ and have breakfast with Troy before heading to the store. I just needed to get rid of this stupid erection first.
In the week since I’d been home I’d done nothing else but work in the store and the occasional trip to the hospital to see my dad.
Well, that wasn’t entirely true, I’d done plenty of thinking about Tom. Even now, despite having some paperwork to go through while there were no customers in the store, I was staring at the boxes that Tom had lined up neatly behind the counter in preparation for the Pride window.
Curiosity won the best of me and I opened one of them. I expected to see nothing but rainbows, glitter, and color. Instead what I found was a number of household items that you wouldn’t really associate with Pride.
Our window displays had won in the past because we’d gone all out with the color, showing that Mason’s was proud to support our LGBTQ community.
Little did my parents know we were very much part of that community. I’d decided a few days ago I would tell my parents the truth. Sure, they’d probably be a little disappointed, but I didn’t have any doubt they’d understand and support me fully.
Still, the lack of color worried me. Mason’s hadn’t won the window competition in a few years and there was something about me being home and coming out to my parents that felt that winning the competition would be the cherry on top.
I’d need to speak to Tom tomorrow about his plans for the window.
My cellphone dinged under the counter. I pulled it out and saw a text had come through from one of my school buddies, Connor.
Connor: A bird told me my man Wren was home from California, but that couldn’t possibly be true because I’m sure he would have told me.
I smiled at the screen. Connor and I had been on the football team in high school, and even though he hadn’t wanted to pursue a career in sports, he just loved being active so much we’d spent a lot of time training together off the field.
Wren: Would that bird have blue hair by any chance?
Connor: I’m not confirming or denying.
Wren: I was just about to text you anyway. You up for a drink at the Falls tonight?
Connor: Sure. You mind if I bring a friend?
Wren: The more the merrier. I’m in the mood for one of their sugary cocktails.
The next text was a thumbs up emoji, so I put the phone down. We’d had a small delivery of scented candles this morning so I decided to work on that.
Putting the candles out was a good distraction. Even though it was a
mindless task of opening boxes, lining up the candles on the shelf, and breaking the boxes down, it was good to move around. I liked being productive and without the chance to go running this was as close to exercise as I could get.
I looked to the front door when I heard the bell and saw Tom coming in. My stomach did a little flip.
He looked around and I thought I saw a flicker of disappointment when he didn’t see me right away.
“Hey,” I said.
“Oh hi, I thought Troy was helping out today.”
Okay, so he wasn’t looking for me then.
“He’s coming after school.”
Tom’s violet eyes looked a little more blue today, probably because of the clothes he wore. I’d noticed that depending on what he wore, his eyes almost changed color to match. I smiled at the thought that even Tom’s eyes had their own sense of fashion, which didn’t surprise me in the least considering who they belonged to.
“Here.” He raised a cup of coffee from Spilled Beans in my direction. Jesus, how long had I been staring at him?
“Oh, you got me coffee?”
“Um, yeah I noticed you like the same coffee I do and I was already on my way here to buy a few things so I thought I’d bring you coffee. Anyway, I know what I want and where it is so…”
As soon as I took the coffee from him he walked around me and left me standing there, thinking about how nice it was that he knew how I took my coffee even though I’d never told him, and how I’d felt a little spark when our fingers touched.
I put the coffee down on the counter and went after Tom.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I said.
“You’re welcome. It was Indy’s idea.”
“But you said—”
“Do you know where I can find parchment paper? It’s the only thing on my list that we don’t seem to have here.”