Luscious

by Schroeder, Melissa

  I nod as I try to swallow. “Yeah, just a little tired.”

  “Wednesdays are the worst, aren’t they? Everything slows down, people are kind of cranky because the weekend is so far away.”

  I shove a hand through my hair. “Yeah.”

  “You remember where I live?”

  I nod again, still holding her gaze with mine.

  “Well, back to work,” she says. “See ya at seven.”

  Then she slips out the door. I drop into my seat and try to get my dick back under control. I know my friends, and they’ll be back here in about a second or two. And…they do not disappoint.

  “What was that about?” Ed asks. Six-foot-four of hard muscle, Ed Cooper has always been a straight shooter. The skull tattoos are completely at odds with the chocolate he’s smeared on his apron, and the powdered sugar in his beard.

  “She’s interested in doing some cross-promotion events together.”

  Ed nods. “She mentioned it this weekend.”

  “You saw her this weekend? When?”

  Okay, so I sound like a possessive jerk and, worse, there’s no reason for me to feel that way. He stares at me for a long time and I know he picked up on my misstep. Fritz might not have, but Ed definitely pays attention. As my sister has always said, Ed is one of the guys who pays attention to every detail. He doesn’t let you know what he’s thinking, but he takes notice of the little things other people miss.

  “She was over Sunday for breakfast.”

  “Oh.”

  “Is there something I should know about, Harry?” Ed asks as he sits in the chair EJ just vacated.

  “No. What do you mean?”

  One of his eyebrows rises up. The moment I met Ed in basic, I knew we would be friends. He’d told me I looked like an asshole. He’s not far off. I’ve been lusting after a woman who wants nothing to do with me. Kind of makes me an asshole.

  “You’re kind of jumpy,” Ed says studying me. I hate when he does that. He might be one of my best friends and my soon-to-be-brother-in-law, but he’s also a busybody. Or he’s become that way since he and my sister got involved.

  “No, just that she caught me off guard and that wouldn’t have happened if you had given me a heads up after you had breakfast with her.”

  “I didn’t have breakfast with her. She came over to our house and had breakfast.”

  Our house. I’m mostly okay with it, especially now that he asked my sister to marry him last month. But it’s left me feeling a little…out of sorts. Not because they are involved. It’s more that I envy them. My best friend and my sister. I know that it makes me more of a jerk. Shut up.

  “Still, you didn’t tell me about the idea.”

  “She didn’t say much about it. Something about featuring our treats at her nighttime events. Authors like to have their book covers on a cake when they come in. Easy to do and then we get all kinds of social media hits.”

  “Her idea?”

  Ed nods. “She’s a sharp one. I mean, she did dump your ass.”

  I grind my teeth. “She didn’t dump me. We both hated every minute of that date.”

  Ed snorts. “Sure.”

  I push that aside because the more I disagree with him, the guiltier I look. “Either way, we’re going to do a little chatting about it tonight over dinner.”

  “Dinner? As in a date?” His eyebrows climb up.

  “No.” Not really. Okay, maybe, there is a small part of my mind that is going to pretend this is a date because I’m slightly obsessed with her.

  “Don’t mess this up.”

  I blink. “What?”

  “Hey, what’s going on?” Fritz O’Conner says as he steps into the office. “Harry and EJ are having another date,” Ed says, his mouth kicking up on one side.

  “We are not. We’re going to talk about an idea she has for us to work together.”

  “You and EJ?” Fritz asks. “Bad idea.”

  I roll my shoulders even though I know it’s one of my tells. It’s a sure sign that I’m irritated.

  “No. Our store and Magnolia Books.”

  Fritz frowns. “She has an idea for us to work together? What?”

  I roll my eyes. “That’s why I’m getting together with her tonight to cover the details. Apparently, she talked to Ginger Jesus and he forgot to mention it.”

  Ed frowns at me. He doesn’t like it when we use Allison’s nickname for him. Fritz and I use it on a regular basis just to irritate him.

  “What kind of ideas?” Fritz asks as he takes the last remaining seat. He’s the face of the business. The pretty boy who can handle interviews and appearances without a problem. In fact, he gets off on it. Everyone loves him.

  “She’s starting to do some nighttime events, and she wants to have me do sweets for some of them. She also wants to coordinate social media or something like that.”

  Ed says it in a way that has both Fritz and I sharing a look. Ed was a first-rate soldier. The only other man I would want at my back would be Fritz. But once Ed got into baking, he became obsessed. Granted, when they served together, his obsession had been that all three of them would return home alive. He’d saved their asses more than once because of that. Now, though, he gets lost in ideas about new cupcakes.

  “I was thinking we needed someone to manage our social media,” Fritz says. He handles it now but, in reality, none of them are very good at it. It takes someone who knows what to do to gain interest, and that is just not something any of them excel at.

  “I’m not sure if we have that in the budget.”

  “I can get Avery to handle social media. She’s been doing that for a few businesses back in the Poteet area. At least, she can work with both of us to get it all squared away.” Fritz’s younger sister was kind of a social media know-it-all. She might just be perfect for teaching them the ins and outs.

  “Great. Now, can both of you go fuck off because I have to get some work done since I’m meeting up with EJ tonight.”

  “Fine,” Fritz says. “Just don’t fuck it up.”

  “Yeah, what he said,” Ed says. “I’ll box up some cupcakes for you to take over. She likes those margarita cupcakes.”

  After they both leave, I should get right back to work. But I don’t. Instead, I sit there and think about EJ, our meeting, and just why I can’t get the woman out of my mind. I am not that kind of guy who obsesses over women. Business first, yes, but it’s more of a respect. If a woman doesn’t want anything to do with me, then walking away is a sign of respect. And I do have huge amounts of respect for EJ. So, being a total asshole and having fantasies about her is just out of order.

  I sigh and scrub a hand over my face. The sooner I get this all squared away, the sooner things get back in order.

  Chapter Two

  I walk back into my store moments after leaving Harry, my body still tingling from the encounter. I don’t know why it is that man who leaves me hotter than July in Georgia. Getting involved with the very sexy Harry Bradley wouldn’t be good. He’d drive me crazy, both in a good way and a bad way. There is no possible way we could be compatible outside of the bedroom. Unfortunately, I can’t seem to control my thoughts when I’m around him.

  It’s not the first time this has happened to me and, sadly, I know it won’t be the last time. It’s been like that since I met him when Allison and I were in college. I mean, he’s gorgeous and he was in a uniform. HELLO. I’d lose all ability to talk around him when he would pop up in our dorms.

  Now that I know him personally, he’s even more of a danger to me. Every day, I try my best to avoid him, but it’s difficult to do since I get my coffee from Camos and Cupcakes. Sure, I could bring my own, but then I don’t have cupcakes. And yes, I know I am coming up with excuses to see him. Don’t judge me. You haven’t been dreaming about him for damn near a decade.

  There’s another side to this, one that scares me more than even my weird fascination with his hands. They’re…big. Like…massive. And, of course, that just ma
kes me think of other appendages and their sizes. Okay, just his dick. I am not proud of it, but you haven’t seen his hands. Large palms, long fingers…

  Seriously, EJ? What the actual freakity frack?

  I close my eyes and draw in a deep breath, releasing it and trying to get my mind back on other things than his love wand.

  I roll my eyes. Really? I don’t use pet names like that for body parts, but this is the problem. He makes me act goofy. And to top that off, he makes me think about a relationship. I avoid him for that one big reason. That’s why I went to Ed first, which was a disaster. All Ed wants to talk about is the cupcakes and treats he wants to make for my events. That and the insanity of him doing his wedding cake—I can’t even deal with that right now. I have a bigger issue, and that’s the brilliant idea I have to help both of our businesses. Harry is the one I needed to talk to, but I dragged my feet a few days before I finally worked up the courage to go talk with him.

  Whenever I see him, it always throws me back to my college years when I first met him. He’d barely noticed me, but he was preoccupied every time he had come to see Allison. I knew he had been deployed a lot, and I knew he had more important things on his mind than some coed with a crush. Now, though, he always seems to notice me, and my body doesn’t know how to react. Nope, that’s wrong. My body does know how to react—I just don’t like the wet panties he always leaves me with.

  I try to push the thought of him out of my mind—news alert…it won’t work—and I walk up to the sales counter. I focus on my store—the true love of my life. I’ve been a romance reader for years, ever since stealing away with my Grandma’s Harlequins in my teens. With my parents’ marriage falling apart and my homelife unsettled, I escaped into worlds where happily ever after was a guarantee. When I finally started buying my own romances to read, the disdain I encountered always annoyed me. There’s nothing wrong with wanting a happily ever after—or HEA as we romance readers call it. It has nothing to do with my intelligence and everything to do with my tastes. I hated that other women might be experiencing the same thing. It was from that experience that made me want to open Magnolia Books.

  I fell in lust with this building years ago when I first came to San Antonio. The Victorian mansion had been transformed into two shops on the first floor, and three on top. I’ve been here for three years, and when the shop across the hall had come open, I steered Harry and his friends towards it. Yeah, that was a brilliant plan because now I see Harry and his hands every day. The top floor was now being renovated into one big shop—a spa—which will be perfect for us. I had been blessed that the first floor had been available when I was ready to open my store, and the owner was okay with me completely renovating the place. I didn’t add a bunch of modern touches. Instead, I played with the idea of the gothic architecture and worked it into the design of my store. Being a romance only bookstore—save for a small section on women’s issues—I think it works well. The rich colors, plush furniture, and cozy atmosphere draws readers in. They know it is a safe space and there will be no judgement in their reading tastes. Plus, the eye candy across the hall at Camos and Cupcakes helps.

  My one full timer Jeanine is helping one of my regular customers check out and I smile at their interaction. Reading is the most fabulous thing in the world, but romance…we have our own little territory. We spend hours reading—it is the number one genre in the world, so suck it all you haters—and we are always down for a suggestion from another romance reader. It’s why I wanted to open a romance bookstore. I love our community and, well, I get to write off romance books. Score!

  It’s Wednesday so it’s a slow day. Our big days are usually on the weekends; although, I’ve noticed that we are having more foot traffic these last few weeks. Once that spa opens upstairs, I’ll be kicking some major ass.

  I smile at Mrs. Hamilton, a retired librarian who has been one of our customers from the first day. She’s slender, with short gray hair, a love of bright colors, and a reading habit that definitely helps with my bottom line. She comes in almost weekly for her book fix.

  “I see you got your special order,” I say to her.

  Her blue eyes twinkle. “I don’t know what it is about Pippa Grant, but that woman makes me giggle constantly.”

  “Well, anyone who can have a dirty-talking parrot and a scene-stealing goat, and still make you sigh at the romance, is a genius.”

  I know Mrs. Hamilton shopped online for a lot of things, but she refuses to shop online for books. Even though it would be easier for her, she loves the idea of a romance bookstore and has been one of my most ardent supporters. She’s brought friends and family into the store and many of them have become regular customers.

  “Happy reading,” I say as she walks out of the store.

  “So, how did it go?” Jeanine asks.

  My store isn’t big, and I rarely have more than two or three employees. It’s a specialty shop in the King William District in San Antonio, so usually I can handle most of the marketing and planning. I kick ass at it, in fact. Being the first romance only bookstore in Texas in a day and age when so many bookstores are closing, I always have to be on my toes to bring in new customers. Jeanine is sharp and has been an asset from the moment I opened the shop. So, I always bounce ideas off her.

  She’s in her early twenties, small in stature, with short pink hair—last month it was green—and more than a few tattoos. When I hired her, she was going through a decidedly goth period in her life. Now, though, she seems to have lightened up her look, opting for a cute green sundress that brings out the gold in her hazel eyes and makes her look like a book fairy.

  “He seems to be totally into the idea.”

  “I have no doubt he is. He’s smart, right? I mean besides being a total hunk.”

  A zing of jealously slaps through me and I push it back into its hidey hole. I have no reason to be jealous of Jeanine’s infatuation with Harry. She is definitely too young for him. No. That’s not why. It’s because we aren’t compatible and there is no reason to be jealous. One of us would end up in a body bag if we dated—most likely Harry. That didn’t stop me from fantasizing about him though. Or even dreaming about him. Like the dream I had last night with me tied to the bed as he fucked me for hours. I’m not a prude, but I feel my face heat. Not my fault. I can’t control my dreams.

  “What?”

  I glance at Jeanine and shake my head. “Nothing.”

  “So, what’s the plan?”

  “He’s coming over tonight for dinner.”

  She nods. “Ah, yeah, fatten him up, then push our agenda. I like it.”

  I chuckle. Jeanine has been a godsend for me. From the moment I met her, I knew she would be perfect for the shop. She loves romance more than I do. It’s not a prerequisite, but it helps. Having another lover of the genre makes other readers feel more comfortable. She’s also a great sounding board for my ideas and the creative genius behind some of our displays.

  “So, what are you blushing for?”

  Damn my fair skin. I liked being a redhead because, well, it makes me stand out. I like being one of a small group of natural redheads. Still, it was hard to hide a blush.

  “I’m not blushing.”

  But even as I said it, I was resisting the urge to fan my face. I should go check the thermostat. We’ve been having a hotter than average September.

  “Yes, you are.” Her eyes first narrow, then widen. “Oh. My. Gawd. You like him.”

  I blink. “I do not. I mean, I like Harry but not like like him.”

  Jeanine crosses her arms over her chest. “You do.”

  I sigh. Jeanine has been obsessed with all the men at Camos and Cupcakes since it opened. At first, I was worried she might end up stalking them, but she did say they were all too old for her. She’s twenty-two so that makes sense. They are all in their mid to late thirties. Still, she thinks they all need a woman to keep them company. I have no idea why.

  My phone vibrates in my pocket and I pull it
out.

  Allison: How did it go?

  Me: He’s coming over for dinner tonight.

  Allison: *thumbs up emoji* Oh, you need to make shrimp and grits. He loves your recipe.

  For some reason, I feel another jolt of heat dance through my blood. Why did I get all hot? Because he likes one of my recipes? Of course, he does. It’s an excellent recipe. It’s been in my family for generations.

  Allison: I know he’s going to be happy to go along with anything you suggest.

  Me: I hope so. I really want to work with them. It’s like a perfect match. And I have to go up to Russo winery and talk to them. I’m hoping they give me a break on some cases.

  Allison: They will.

  Ever the optimist our Allison. Granted, she works as a chemo nurse, so it’s a good thing to be. I don’t know how she does it, but if —God forbid—I ever had to go through chemo, there is no one else I would want to help me through it. I’m more realistic. Yes, I know, I just said I was a romance reader. But real life isn’t a romance novel. Real life can kick your ass. I learned that at an early age.

  “Do you need to leave early?” Jeanine asks, drawing me out of my thoughts.

  “Yeah. I need to grab some shrimp and wine.”

  She smiles. “No problem, boss. I got this.”

  “Are you sure? I know you just started the semester.”

  Jeanine is working on her MBA, and I know just how hard that is since I have one myself.

  “Nope.”

  “Okay, good.”

  Because I really did need to take my time to get ready. I’d cleaned up this morning just in case Harry agreed to dinner, but now I want to make sure I leave enough time to go through my apartment one more time.

  “I’ll just get my stuff and get on. Call me if you need me.”

  “Of course, but I won’t need you. It’s Wednesday. Although, when you do a monthly wine Wednesdays, we will be busy.”

  Mentally I cross my fingers and I go to the back to grab my things. I have plenty of time to hit HEB and pick up some fresh shrimp and wine. Lord knows I need that tonight. I need to keep my head screwed on straight and my eye on the prize. For some idiot reason, Harry’s face comes to my mind. Nope. Not going to happen.