by HJ Bellus
“Oh yeah, I’m fine. I just decided to wrestle this door on top of a ladder in the middle of the day. I’m pretty sure the door won this round,” I replied coolly while my insides were screaming and writhing in motherfucking pain.
“I just wanted to stop in to see how it was going. I’ve seen you working in here over the last month, but haven’t had the chance to stop in.”
“I appreciate it! And I’m so glad that I provided you such a great show. Would you like a cup of joe? Try the new latte of the day. It’s a Rummy Tummy with butterscotch and rum in it,” I offered.
“That would be great! Do you think you can manage with your finger? It’s in pretty bad shape.”
“Oh, this is nothing!” I said coolly. In reality, I was in so much pain I wanted to fucking faint.
I wrapped my finger in a damp cloth and started making his coffee.
“By the way I’m Cree Fitzpatrick,” he said as he extended his hand over the coffee counter to introduce himself. He then climbed the ladder and finished hanging the door for me, without me asking him to. I just stared at him. Yes, I ogled him! He had to be at least six feet tall and was built, but slender at the same time. He had killer blue eyes and killer light blue jeans on that hung off his hips. As he lifted the door up over his head to hang it, I could see the lower part of his abs and his ever-so-sexy v-shaped muscles that led to the glory land. I finally snapped out of it and decided to tell him my name.
“Nice to meet you Cree! I’m Milly, and thanks,” I said as I blended him his latte.
We stood there for a moment in sheer awkward silence. I noticed his brown work boots and his tight fitting red t-shirt with the local rec district’s logo across the front, and “coach” in white letters across the back. The one disadvantage to living in a small town like this was I would bet my left ovary he was already taken. I guess I would just enjoy the view as he sauntered out of my shop with my coffee in his hand.
“Make sure you come back for coffee if you like it. The drive-thru will be open tomorrow,” I blurted out.
He turned around and said, “I will.”
As soon as the mysterious Cree left the shop I started writhing in pain, jumping up and down like a freaking lunatic. The pain was causing me to throw a total hissy fit. Damn this fucking hurts, and I was pissed that Cree saw the whole thing. I ran up to my apartment to find some anti-bacterial ointment to put on the wound, and wrapped it up with a Band-Aid. Of course, it was a cute Band-Aid with paisleys and polka dots on it.
I put all the finishing touches on The Shop, and then retreated to my apartment to make love to a frozen pizza and a bottle of wine. I went to sleep that night for the first time with a man on my mind. Cree Freakin’ Fitzpatrick.
The first day in my shop was simply amazing. Old Man Jenkins was my very first coffee customer. He explained to me that he loved all the fancy drinks that I had been making for him over the last month, but he would rather just stick to some good ol’ black coffee. I told him it would be on the house today, so he left me a twenty dollar tip. Oh, he was a clever one.
Then Lacey and the gals from the salon stopped by. The old ladies bought several items for their granddaughters and nieces. I had several other customers throughout the day. I received several compliments on how cute and gorgeous my shop was. I had to agree! All the headbands, flowers, jewelry and handmade clothes looked fantastic on display. I was exhausted after the first day; but mainly from nerves, because I didn’t do much manual work today.
Instead of the frozen pizza route, I decided to go to the store. I needed wine and toilet paper, so I thought I would find something there for dinner. A home-cooked meal sounded wonderful, but I wasn’t going to go to that much effort.
I was at checkout lane number seven when I spotted Cree walking into the store. Today he looked like he came straight off the farm. Good lord, the man was an amazing sight to behold. I clutched my wallet tightly as I watched him stroll over to the basket of fresh warm French bread loaves. He selected one and then made his way to the checkout stands. He was so on a “honey-do” errand for his wife, because really, what single man comes to a grocery store to buy a loaf of French bread?
Please don’t’ pick seven, please don’t pick seven, I pleaded with the gods of checkout stands. I kept my eyes glued to Henrietta the cashier, willing her to move her ass just a little bit faster. Who the hell wanted to be spotted buying toilet paper, wine, tampons and a corn dog? (Yep, not so badass…Fuck it with the badass…I was in survival mode these days). I was past the point of retreat or I would have run, ditching my basket in a random aisle.
“Milly?”
It was confirmed, I wanted to shit myself and run right out of the store! Instead, I turned to see Cree smiling brightly at me. Yes, I must be being punished by the checkout gods.
“Oh hey Cree, I didn’t see ya there,” I lied. My only saving grace was my outfit. I dressed up super fancy today for the opening. I was wearing bright yellow daisy dukes with a red tank top and off the shoulder chevron striped shirt, and my red hooker heels completed the ensemble. My hair was a mess of wild curls with my aviators holding them back from my face.
“How was opening day? I tried to make it down there, but things on the farm just didn’t go well. We are gearing up for harvest.”
“It was great! I couldn’t ask for better support from a community. Thanks for asking,” I said as I grabbed my jumbo package of toilet paper and hoisted it under one arm, and then grabbed my single bag of groceries.
“See ya around,” I said over one shoulder. I dropped the package of toilet paper three fucking times before I made it to my truck. When I finally made it to my truck, my heart was pounding wildly from the sight of Cree. The man was drop-dead gorgeous, and he made me want to take a spin on his tractor.
I watched him stroll out of the grocery store and climb into his dark blue Dodge truck that was covered in mud. The truck totally fit his rugged looks. My heart fell around my ankles when I spotted the Holstein colored car seat in the middle of the back seat of his truck. Yep, it’s confirmed - he is taken. My heart was hurting and my wine was calling my name, so on with my life. Deep down I already knew that Cree was taken, but that didn’t stop my heart from wanting to get to know him.
I quickly recovered from my encounter with Cree with the help of a sweet Moscato and my yummy, fried corndog. Lacey had been bugging me to go out Honky-Tonkin with her since I met her. I always declined because my shop was my priority. After being arm candy for so many years, I loved being buried deep in my work. After seeing Cree in the grocery store, I realized it was time to go out and have some fun. I picked up my phone and texted Lacey.
Me: Hey Hoochie! When are you taking me out to sow some of my wild oats?
Lacey: About damn time you decided that you aren’t 90 years old!
Me: Shut it! Name the day.
Lacey: Next Friday…You have 5 days to get the cobwebs blown out of your hoo-ha!
Me: Ya-Ya… I’m ready to blow something. This shit better be legit!
Lacey: Trust me, you will love it you little skank!
Chapter 8
Swinging Sam
It was Friday before I knew it and the day to party. The Shop was crazy busy this week and unfortunately there were no Cree sightings. I quickly found out that I would need to hire some help, which was on the top of my to-do list for next week. My cup runneth over! I was on cloud nine with all the success and love I was feeling in my new life. Lacey was coming over after work to get us all beautified for our Honky Tonkin adventure.
She had brought all of her “hoochielicious” clothes over the night before so we could play dress up! I seriously had no idea where she came up with some of these words. She also took it upon herself to teach me how to two-step and swing dance in my living room last night. She blared the song, “Red Neck Girl” by The Bellamy Brothers as she spun me around my living room. The song was damn catchy! I caught myself picking up the art of country dancing real quickly. All I needed no
w was to find me a redneck boy! She twirled me around and slapped my ass and we both started laughing so hard, I had to call a PMP. We made chef salads and then retreated to the couch to watch some TV for the remainder of the evening.
I walked outside to sweep the sidewalk, laughing at the sight of us the night before. Lacey should be here in ten minutes and I needed to keep my mind busy, so I swept the shit out of that sidewalk.
“Hey!” came a loud voice from behind. I always startled easy, so without even thinking I jumped several feet into the air and let out a yelp!
“Wow, Dolly!” chuckled Cree. Of course, it was Cree. Why in the hell would I ever run into him under any normal circumstances?
Breathing heavily from having the shit scared out of me and my lady bits acting up a little from the sight of him, I said, “Hey, yourself!” Our eyes locked for a second. I couldn’t find one damn word to say to him.
“Daddy can we get ice cream?” squeaked a little voice that drew my eyes instantly down to the little angel holding his hand. On the end of Cree’s left hand stood the cutest little girl I have ever laid my eyes on. Perfect dark brown ringlets framed her very round sweet face. There was no mistake that she was Cree’s daughter. She had his crystal clear blue eyes and his irresistible smile. She was perfectly dressed in a very sweet princess style dress, with matching tights and a headband.
“Yes, Annie. We are on our way there. I just wanted to stop and say hello to my friend Milly,” he said as he pointed to me.
“Annie this is Milly, Milly this is my daughter Annie,” Cree said. I stooped down so that I was eye level with Annie, and let her know how nice it was to meet her.
“I am going on an ice cream date with my daddy and I don’t want to be late. So we need to get going,” she informed me, using her best serious face.
“Well, I would hate to make a beautiful thing like you late for a date with your daddy!” I told her. I stood up and smiled at Cree, “Looks like you have your hands full with your hot little date here.”
“You are on to something Milly. It’s never a good idea to keep this little lady waiting,” he said. The two walked off hand in hand, down the sidewalk to the local creamery. It was the sweetest thing I had ever seen. I felt my heart crack at the sight of the father and daughter. It was something I wanted for myself and something I desperately wanted for my future children. Mrs. Fitzpatrick had no idea how lucky she was to have such an amazing man in her life.
I slapped my sad sappy ass down on the curb. My life was so complete here and I was living up the bucket list thingy, but there was still something missing. A part of my heart was still empty and needed company. I knew Cree was off limits, but my heart wanted him, or at least the chance to get to know him.
“Hey! Ho-bag! Are you ready to go get your country on?” chimed Lacey, as she bounced across the street. She was the perfect distraction I needed to take my mind off of Cree.
After forty-five minutes of spraying on the make-up and painting on the clothes, we were ready to get our country on! I wore a pair of white shorts with a hot pink tank top. A brown pair of western boots that had a cheetah print and pink stitching on them and a chunky turquoise necklace were my accessories. My hair was pulled back and held in place with a cheetah print scarf, tied off on the side.
I was a little nervous about the necklace because earlier in the week, Lacey had asked me if the necklace doubled as my anal beads! She wore a skimpy little black dress with bright red boots. We were quite the Honky-Tonkin pair.
We were going to a bar in a neighboring town. It was only about a five minute drive to get there. The place was packed. We made our way through all the cowboys and hoochies. We found a table in the corner to settle into. I am pretty sure every man in the bar was fantasizing about Lacey and her little black dress as they stared her down.
We ordered two shots of whiskey and beer to chase them with. The first round of drinks went down easy, and my nerves were starting to settle down. After the third round of shots, “Baby’s Got Her Blue Jeans On” started blaring, and we both squealed because this was one of the songs we practiced dancing to. We instantly jumped out of our seats and started dancing with each other, giggling and howling the whole time. We took turns spinning each other around the dance floor and slapping each other’s asses.
I’m pretty sure the whiskey influenced our dancing. In the middle of the song we separated and starting prancing around the dance floor on our own. I spotted a mighty fine piece of ass staring me down, so I grabbed him and started dancing with him. He instantly started spinning me around on the dance floor. To my surprise, I easily followed his lead. This country thing was fun as hell.
When the song was nearing an end, I spotted Lacey more or less dry humping the man she was dancing with. The two-step must have totally escaped her horny little ass at the moment.
“The Race is On” came blaring through the speakers. Mr. Mighty Fine Piece of Ass really started spinning and twirling me all over the dance floor. He was a damn good dancer. I only concentrated on holding on to him, or grabbing for his hand. By the end of the song, I was spinning from the alcohol and being spun around the floor like a rag doll. The club erupted in applause when we finished dancing. To my amazement, most of the crowd had been watching us dance.
“So do you have a name? Or do you just grab random strangers to dance with?” I asked.
“Ya, I do both!”
I just shook my head as he led me by the hand to the bar. He ordered two beers.
“Here, have a beer on me for dancing with me tonight. My name is Sam.”
“Thanks for the beer, Sam.” I said, as I turned and walked away from what could only be defined as trouble or the next possible Malcolm. I found Lacey at the table sitting on her dance partners lap, sucking face. I plopped down in my seat, and the two of them continued to suck face. So I threw a peanut at them, and they still continued to make out. Lacey’s dance partner had his hand plunged up her dress.
“Earth to Ho-Bag!” I finally shouted. Ah this did the trick, and they finally broke apart.
“Oh hey, Milly! This is Jake,” she managed to get out. She then proceeded to tell me that she and Jake went to high school together in Fort Collins, and they stay in touch from time to time.
“Where did Sam run off to?” Jake asked me. Oh god, we had been tag teamed. I was going to kick Lacey’s ass tomorrow! I just shrugged my shoulders. Lacey went on to explain how she and I met and all about my store and coffee shop. He actually seemed quite interested. Right when I thought we were going to get rid of Jake, Sam came strolling over with a couple rounds of shots and beers on a tray.
“May I interest you?” he taunted. I will give it to the man, he did have charisma. He sat down beside me and we drank away, toasting to everything under the sun. Lacey and Jake took part in one round of whiskey before they continued on with their make-out session.
I was pretty sure my teeth were numb by the time Sam and I finished off the last of the whiskey. Sam grabbed my hand and drug me back out to the dance floor where he worked his magic by swinging me around. When some pop music came on I tried to exit the dance floor, but he grabbed my hand keeping me close to him. We grinded on the dance floor for a couple more songs, with our hands groping all sorts of body parts. I found myself rubbing on him, using some very provocative moves. The man didn’t hold anything back.
I felt the warm liquid start to pool between my legs, so I told Sam that I needed some fresh air. We made our way out by my truck, where he lit up a cigarette. I watched him inhale and exhale the smoke. I tried to make small talk, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off his strong hands that delicately held the cigarette and the way his strong jaw line clenched after each time he exhaled.
When he was finished, we started to slowly peck at each other’s lips. I pressed my tongue up against his lips and he parted them, letting my tongue explore his mouth. I could taste the whiskey and smoke on him, which only fueled my sexual desires. I gripped the back of his head, pulling
him further into me. This boy had talent in the kissing department. His mouth had some serious skills that rivaled his dancing.
“Milly, I need you here and now,” he breathed out between kisses.
“Take me, Sam,” I insisted. I flung open the truck door and slid onto the seat. I parted my legs, allowing Sam to fit perfectly between them. I unzipped his pants and ran my hand down the inside of his cotton boxers. He fumbled with the button of my shorts, while his tongue continued to explore my mouth.
I lifted my waist to shimmy out of my shorts and then leaned back onto my elbows. I watched Sam lower his head down to my center. He licked and kissed my belly button, trailing kisses down to my mound. His very talented tongue went to work on my lady bits. He added his fingers to the mixture. I started moving my hips to match Sam’s rhythm. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him while he worked my most sensitive parts. His mouth continued sucking and licking while he replaced one finger with two. I grabbed his hair and arched my back, screaming his name into the night air. It only took one more flick of his tongue for me to spiral out of control, bucking against Sam’s face to milk out every last drop of pleasure.
My head buzzed and my body melted against the seat while Sam bent over and rested his face against my belly. When I regained enough strength, I perched back up on my elbows while I watched Sam continue to rest against me. We heard some voices come out of the bar and he swiftly pulled my shorts back up around my waist.
The sounds turned out to be faint voices off in the distance, so, I decided to be a little adventurous with my new friend. I wrapped my fingers around his thick length, rubbing it up and down. I continued the action, varying my speeds and grip on him. He threw his head back and growled loud with pleasure. I started to talk dirty to him, to taunt this nasty little redneck boy.
“Where do you want to come Sammy Boy? In my mouth? Down my legs?” I whispered.
“Jesus Mill! I’m getting close,” he breathed out.
“Name the place Nasty Boy,” I spat back. Liquid courage again at its best! As I continued to work him, Sam slipped my tank top over my head and unlatched my bra, freeing my girls. He pushed me back down on the bench seat one more time and climbed up over me. I do believe he found the place he wanted to go.