by Tawna Fenske
“Blog posts?” Ellie folded her hands in her lap. “What did you have in mind?”
“Maybe something about whether you’re a squeezer or a stroker and how that might impact your overall ball handling.”
“Oh.” Ellie flushed, surprised he’d gotten so graphic so quickly. Not that she was complaining. It was refreshing, honestly, to be around a man who was so candid about sexuality. “I hadn’t thought about doing anything quite that specific. You think there’d be enough readers who’d find it interesting?”
“Definitely. Your customers are hungry for information. They’re looking for something no one else is giving them, so there’s no sense beating around the bush.”
She gave an awkward little laugh, not sure if that was meant to be a naughty euphemism. She was so out of practice. Some men freaked when she talked about sex. Her brother pretended she sold Tupperware or candles or leggings, though Ellie knew her sister-in-law had introduced him to more than one Madame Butterfly product.
“I love the idea of approaching things from an educational angle,” Ellie said. “Did you have any other suggestions?”
Ty leaned back a little in his chair, and Ellie could have sworn his eyes drop to her cleavage.
Good, her libido telegraphed. Look all you like, hot stuff.
Did women even call men “hot stuff” ?
“My father used to clean his balls constantly,” Ty said.
The words splashed a little cool water on Ellie’s libido, and she tried not to jerk in surprise.
“What about a tutorial on ball cleaning?” he continued. “Maybe talking about the importance of removing all the oils, making sure there’s nothing stuck in any of the holes.”
“Wow. Um, yes, I guess that is important.” Her cheeks warmed as she processed the fact that he’d headed down this path. What the hell?
But he was the marketing expert and this was just brainstorming, right? Ellie cleared her throat. “Speaking of oils, did you see we’re rolling out several new products in our Kneads and Desires Rubdown Line?”
Ty grinned, and something warm flipped over in Ellie’s gut. “I love all the product names you guys have,” he said. “The Heavy Hammer, the Big Hitter, the Perfect Pearl—”
“The Boom Boom Pow is my personal favorite,” she said, laughing. “The name, I mean—I haven’t actually tested all the products. There are so many, and they’re adding new ones all the time. I can’t keep track of all the names.”
“I can imagine,” he said. “Going back to the subject of cleaning, you guys have special products for that, right?”
“Definitely,” Ellie said. “We’ve been trying to encourage everyone to buy a bottle of cleaner with every toy purchase.”
“Toys,” he repeated, his expression thoughtful. “I love that. Having a sense of playfulness about this is going to be key to making it a whole lot sexier. And sexy sells.”
“So I’ve heard.” She grinned and wondered if she was flirting. Is this what flirting looked like? She’d have to ask Miriam.
“What if you did some sort of giveaway?” he said. “Like maybe you write some copy about proper cleaning techniques, and then offer a free bottle of cleaner for every hundred dollars spent on new products?”
“That’s brilliant!” Ellie grinned. “Any other ideas?”
Ty leaned back a little and splayed his fingers over the armrests of his chair. “Well, like I said, how-to videos are hot right now. What if you focused on something like how crucial it is to have your fingers measured? I read an article about why you need to be sure they fit properly in the holes.”
“Oh.” Ellie stared at Ty’s fingers for a few beats then frowned. “Well, I don’t think that’s usually a problem, but I guess I’d have to read the article.”
“Or there are a lot of other ways to come at it,” he said. “Like maybe a whole series on proper hole drilling. It’s quite the science, from what I’ve seen.”
“Uh-huh,” Ellie agreed. Her mouth had gone dry, and she wished now that she’d taken him up on the offer of water. “So you’re thinking these posts would be targeted to both male and female customers?”
“Absolutely. Opening your market up to both genders can help diversify your offerings and reach an audience you haven’t penetrated before.”
“Huh.” Crap. This was sounding way more explicit than she’d planned. Still, she wanted to hear him out. Ellie gave him a bright smile. “I appreciate the ideas.”
“Definitely. I’m happy to help brainstorm.” He leaned forward in his chair again, and Ellie dropped her gaze to his chest. God, the man was ripped. What would he look like with his shirt off?
“I need to do a little more research on this one, but what about something on PAP?” he suggested.
“That’s a great idea,” Ellie said, relieved to be off the video track. “Women’s health is extremely important to the company. Maybe we could even do some sort of annual reminder.”
Ty cocked his head. “I didn’t realize that’s something you need to check every year.”
“Well, the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology changed the recommendations to every three years, but a lot of gynecologists still suggest doing it annually to be safe.”
“Wow.” He looked befuddled. “I no idea the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology weighed in on bowling.”
Ellie blinked. There was a funny buzzing sound in the back of her brain, and it occurred to her there was something strange about this conversation. “Bowling?”
“I mean, I guess it makes sense,” Ty continued, oblivious to Ellie’s alarm. “From what I’ve read, knowing your Positive Access Point—your PAP, I mean—that’s such a key part of understanding the axis your ball rolls on as it travels down the lane. I can see how getting it checked regularly can help prevent injury to—”
“Ty?”
“Yeah?”
Ellie gripped the armrests again. Her palms had started sweating, and her tongue turned to sandpaper against the roof of her mouth. “What are you talking about?”
Ty frowned. “I’m sorry, am I pronouncing it wrong? I guess I assumed it rhymed with snap, but maybe you spell it out as P-A-P or just—”
“We’re not talking about Pap smears?”
“What?” He blinked, horror flashing across his face. “No! I’m so sorry if I offended you. I just thought—”
“You thought we were talking about…bowling?” Her brain did a slow rewind through the last ten minutes, replaying snippets of their conversation. “Oh, dear Lord.”
“Is there a problem?” He frowned. “You are L.E. Birmingham, right? Owner of Pin Action Bowling Supplies?”
The ground shifted beneath her, and Ellie couldn’t breathe. “I’m Ellie Sanders, owner of Madam Butterfly. We sell sexual aids and adult products and—”
“Oh, Jesus.” Ty slid his hands down his face, which had gone unusually pale. He grabbed his laptop and started clicking keys, muttering softly under his breath.
“Goddamn chode-stroking jackwad…”
Ellie sat quietly, hands on her lap, while Ty produced the most creative string of expletives she’d ever heard. It made her feel better, knowing she wasn’t the only one who’d talked dirty in this meeting. On purpose, anyway.
When Ty met her eyes again, his expression was grave. “You’re Miriam’s sister-in-law,” he said slowly. “And you emailed me about coming in today.”
She nodded, not sure how their wires had gotten crossed. “That’s right.”
His throat moved as he swallowed hard. “I’m so very sorry, Mrs. Sanders.”
“Ms.,” she said without thinking. “Ms. Sanders. I’m not married. But you can call me Ellie.”
“Ellie,” he repeated. “Not L.E.”
She offered a weak little smile. “I did wonder why you were enunciating it so clearly.”
Ty stared at her, and Ellie tried not to liquefy under that dark-chocolate gaze. At last, one corner of his mouth tilted up in a funny half smile
.
“So, I guess I’ll hold off on my spiel about double wood,” he said. “That’s when you leave two pins standing after the first ball, in case you’re wondering.”
Ellie gave an unladylike snort-laugh and buried her face in her hands. “I can’t believe this conversation just happened.”
“I kinda wish I’d gotten it on video,” Ty said. “Again, I’m very sorry.”
Ellie looked up and shook her head. “Nothing to apologize for. I’m sure we’ll both laugh about this very soon.” She grinned. “Like now, maybe.”
Ty grinned back, and a knot released in Ellie’s chest.
“Well, then,” he said at last. “Want to start again?”
Chapter Two
“So, then Mrs. Colt said I’m not allowed to bring anything to show-and-tell unless I show it to her first.”
Six-year-old Henry frowned down at his last bite of mashed potatoes, and a sharp pang zapped the center of Ellie’s chest.
“It’s okay, sweetie,” she assured him. “We all make mistakes sometimes. Maybe you could ask me the next time you want to show someone the How Babies Are Made book?”
Across the table, Ellie’s brother Jason was trying unsuccessfully to stifle a laugh. “I do know the mailman enjoyed it,” he offered.
“So did all the ladies in my prenatal yoga class,” Miriam added. “They found the pictures especially enlightening.”
Ellie sighed and wondered if it was too early in the evening to pour herself a second glass of wine. “Maybe we all need to start frisking him before he leaves the house. All this time I’ve been assuming the only thing in his backpack was juice and goldfish crackers.”
“Juice, goldfish crackers, and a stash of porn,” Jason said. “It’s what’s in every man’s briefcase.”
Henry looked up at his uncle. “What’s a porn?”
“Jason!” Ellie snapped. “I’ve told you not to make jokes like that in front of him.”
Ellie’s brother had the good sense to look ashamed, though he was probably laughing inside. “Sorry, little man,” Jason said. “Please erase that from your brain.”
Henry pantomimed rubbing an eraser over his forehead, and Ellie laughed. No matter how crazy her life as a single mom might be, her kid always managed to make her smile.
“Mommy, may I be excused?”
“Yes, you may,” Ellie said. “Remember what I showed you about rinsing off your plate before putting it in the dishwasher?”
“Uh-huh. I was just gonna lick it off, though.”
“That’s my boy,” Jason said as Henry stood up and headed to the kitchen.
As soon as her son was out of earshot, Ellie rolled her eyes at her brother across the table. “You shouldn’t encourage him.”
“The kid’s a cancer survivor,” Jason pointed out. “He deserves to read sex books and lick plates every now and then.”
Ellie’s breath caught in her throat, and a wave of nausea rocked her back in the chair. Even now, a full year after Henry had been declared cancer-free, the memory of what he’d been through made her gut clench. She took a sip of water and fought to hold it together. Henry was out of the dark. There was no need to panic. Her baby was alive and happy and thriving.
“Speaking of sex books,” Miriam began, and Ellie silently thanked her sister-in-law for her talent at draining the tension from any conversation. “I want to hear your Ty story again. Come on, don’t leave out any details this time.”
Jason stood up and pushed his chair in. “This is where I make my exit. My nephew and I are going to go do man stuff like scratching ourselves and belching and watching Batman.”
“Have fun with that.” Ellie watched her brother go, grateful he was such a terrific father figure to her son, even if he was sort of a butthead sometimes.
Henry’s dad walked out when the boy was just a baby, and Jason had been a godsend during the leukemia battle. In a way, Ellie was relieved Chuck had chosen to leave. The fewer deadbeat jerks in Henry’s life, the better.
“Come on, buddy,” Jason called in the other room. “Let’s go watch another episode.”
A flurry of footsteps ensued, followed by the slamming of a bedroom door. Confident the boys were out of earshot, Ellie turned back to her sister-in-law, who was regarding her expectantly.
“I’m not repeating that story,” Ellie said. “God, I don’t want to relive it.”
“Ty asked me again to apologize on his behalf,” Miriam said. “He was super mortified.”
A delighted shudder ran through her at the sound of Ty’s name, but Ellie managed to avoid doing anything dumb, like drooling on the table.
“It’s fine, just like I told him,” Ellie insisted. “I sell sex toys for a living. I’m obviously not offended by dirty talk, especially the unintentional kind.”
“That’s what I explained to him.” Miriam rested a hand on her pregnant belly and took a sip of her grape juice, which Ellie had poured into a wineglass so her sister-in-law could still feel fancy. “Anyway,” Miriam continued, “did Ty give you some good info?”
“He gave me something, all right.” Ellie’s cheeks warmed, and she wanted to smack herself. Seriously, how out of practice was she? “Sorry, I shouldn’t ogle your colleagues.”
Miriam laughed. “I promise not to tell. So, you thought he was hot?”
Ellie’s face got warmer, and she took a sip of water to cover. “I suppose he’s attractive if you’re into the whole tall, dark, and ridiculously handsome thing.”
Miriam nodded. “He’s a war vet, too.”
A war vet? That was interesting. Ellie could picture it, actually. There was something a little haunted in those dark eyes. Something noble, too, or maybe she was projecting. Aside from her brother, there hadn’t been that many noble men in her life.
“He definitely seemed to know his stuff,” Ellie said. “Marketing stuff, I mean. And bowling balls.” She smiled at the memory, wondering how he might have approached the conversation differently if he’d known what she really sold.
“He’s ridiculously smart,” Miriam agreed. “And a hard worker.”
Ellie did her best not to release the dreamy sigh welling in her chest. “Smart, hot, good work ethic, war hero—God, women must chase him down the street to throw their panties at him.”
Miriam looked thoughtful. “Actually, I don’t think he dates much.” She shrugged. “He never talks about it, anyway.”
“Huh.” Ellie was dying to ask more about him but didn’t want to be too obvious. She settled for changing the subject. “Did I tell you I had a voicemail from Chuck?”
Miriam frowned. “What did the sperm donor want?”
Ellie smiled, appreciating that Miriam never called Henry’s father his “dad.” Chuck sure as hell hadn’t earned the title.
“He wants to make changes to his child support payments,” Ellie continued. “The state garners part of his wages every month. There’s this complicated formula based on his income and how much time Henry spends with each parent.”
“Which is zero time in his case, right?”
“Right,” Ellie said. “Anyway, I haven’t called him back. I’d rather just let the state handle him. I don’t want to give him the chance to try and sweet talk me into taking less for Henry.”
“Good girl,” Miriam said. “Way to stick to your guns.”
“Thanks. I’m trying. I just wish he weren’t such a bastard. Henry’s such a great kid, and Chuck wants nothing to do with him.”
“His loss. Truly.” Miriam winced, and Ellie guessed the baby had probably just socked her sister-in-law right in the bladder. Ellie remembered that feeling. She’d loved being pregnant with Henry, even with the swollen ankles and weird cravings for things like arugula and cheesy eggs.
“So,” Miriam said when her grimace had faded. “Henry’s healthy. Your business is booming. You’re looking great.”
“Thanks.” Ellie smiled. “I’ve been biking more now that Henry’s in school. It’s so nice to get bac
k to something I’ve always loved.”
“I swear, you and Jason must have been born wearing cycling jerseys and ski boots with a tennis racquet clutched in each hand.”
“Please.” Ellie gave a mock shudder. “I’m way too uncoordinated for tennis. But I do love getting out on my bike again.”
“Smart mama. All the parenting books I’m reading talk about the importance of hobbies and self-care.”
“It does make a difference.” A flicker of pride warmed Ellie’s core as she thought about how hard she’d worked to reach this point. To survive divorce and Henry’s cancer and to carve out a happy, healthy place for the two of them.
“So life’s going great for you,” Miriam said.
“Uh-huh,” Ellie said, not sure where this was headed.
“Ever think about dating again?”
Ellie shrugged and tried to keep her expression casual. “Sometimes. Starting a relationship is tough when you have a kid.”
“Who said anything about a relationship? I’m talking about a hookup.”
“You mean like a fling?” Ellie noticed her voice sounded more intrigued than scandalized.
“Sure! Just dipping your toe in the water again.”
She smiled and glanced down at her hands. “It’s not my toe that’s out of practice.”
Miriam laughed and sipped her grape juice. “When’s the last time you tried the casual thing?”
“Um, that would be never.”
“Ever?”
“Nope.” Ellie shook her head and tried not to be embarrassed. “Not even before I met Chuck.”
“Seriously?” Miriam gaped at her. “Girl, we’ve gotta get you laid!”
Ellie rolled her eyes, even though the idea shot tiny little sparks of excitement through her veins. “Why do you think I sell vibrators for a living?”
“Good point.” Miriam grinned. “But the toys you use with a partner are a lot more fun.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.”
Miriam studied her, her expression calculating. “You’re not interested in a relationship?”
“Not really.” Ellie shook her head and tried not to let her smile falter. Not to let her mind wander too far down the path that started with her ex-husband leaving and ended with Ellie swearing she’d never go through that kind of heartache again.