by Meredith, MK
That was all it took to unleash something she’d not witnessed before. With all his delicious weight, he pressed her up against the wall, lifting her legs until they circled his waist. His heat was hard and persistent, and she yanked him closer still, in hopes of relieving the rising tide of pressure at her center.
“I want…” she whispered against his mouth, loving the scent of him…the taste…how he felt under hands and against her skin.
“Tell me,” he demanded.
“I want you to…”
“What you want is to get your asses out of the public Cape center, you sickos, and come help Blayne with a shipment.”
Like a cold trough of water dumped over them, Alora’s voice all but drowned Sage.
Parker stilled, then dropped his forehead to hers as she slid her legs back to the ground.
Clearing his throat, he opened his mouth to speak.
“Save it. I think I’ve seen enough and would rather not hear the narration,” Alora said, though the grin she directed Sage’s way was definitely more fist pump than punch in the face.
Parker locked eyes with Sage, telling her he wasn’t anywhere near being finished.
But Alora waved to them over her shoulder. “Come on. Claire sent me to get you. And you owe me. I just saved you from having to face the new Cape house caretaker. Or did you forget there are people here twenty-four hours a day?” She directed the question to Sage but then turned to Parker. “I’m cashing in. It’s time you see what it means to live in Cape Van Buren.”
Sage couldn’t read the now neutral expression on Parker’s face. What was she going to do with him? He was trying to make his grandfather proud, and she was trying to save her grandfather’s legacy.
She had a bad feeling one of them had to lose, but God help her if that didn’t give her the strength to keep her hands to herself.
Chapter 6
Sage had never walked through Eclectic Finds horny before. It made every piece from silk and lace to breast salt and pepper shakers and one of a kind blown wine decanters more decadent than she’d ever imagined. Suddenly, she could feel the cool, slippery fabric sliding across her skin and the hot press of too tight leather holding her just in the right place—all without trying on one single garment.
“Come on slow pokes, what the hell were you three doing over there, having an orgy?”
Sage choked. “Maxine!” Though it wasn’t a bad idea—just her and Parker, of course, and not in a public place. Nothing inspired the hot and heavy like Blayne’s new collection. She fanned her face. Maybe she’d give him a personal tour as soon as they were finished helping Maxine with whatever she had going on this time.
Maxine put her hands on her hips, making her well-tailored jacket open in the front, revealing another bustier. She may have added a new staple to her wardrobe. The woman always dressed to impress.
And it was one of the things Sage admired about the woman who knew this town so well.
She was her own woman, living to please herself. She did what she wanted, said what she wanted, and really lived life in the way that spoke to her. And she never let anyone put limitations on how she did it.
Sage had never told her, but she thought it was one of the most romantic things she’d ever witnessed. Maxine had a love affair with herself that every woman should have. And she kept the relationship strong even now that she’d married Judge Theodore Carter.
Not that was a wedding to remember. Sage had captured wonderful photos that she hoped to work into a comic for her new project.
Their story was known from the north cove to the south and was not spoken of outside their happy nuptials if those involved ever wanted another sip of her amazing moonshine.
“How can we help you, Ms. Van Buren?” Parker asked.
Maxine brightened. “Now, that is what I like to hear. Come on, boy.” She guided the trio down the hall to the storage room, filling Sage with a whole slew of ideas, as she stared at Parker’s backside in front of her.
“Where’s Blayne and Claire?” Sage asked Alora.
“Blayne is with Larkin working on some project, and Claire had to meet Mitch.”
Claire and Mitch. Sage held back her sigh. It was nice to see the two of them together. Claire’d had a hard road when her fiancé had been killed in the same car accident a few years ago that had taken Larkin’s first husband. Soon after, Claire had also lost her unborn child. Too much sorrow for one heart.
But she’d found another great love in an unlikely heart with Mitch Brennan, the town’s once upon a time most eligible bachelor turned dedicated city attorney.
That’s what Sage loved about this town. The impossible was reality in Cape Van Buren.
“By the by, Evette’s got her eye on your grandpa. Any chance you can put in a good word for her?” Maxine asked with a hopeful expression as if it were the most normal conversation to have with a young man she hardly knew.
Parker’s eyes almost crossed. “My grandfather? Banon Edwards?” He scratched the side of his head. “I thought that whole scene at the wine pairing was a joke.”
“My dear boy, you have a lot to learn about the women of Cape Van Buren,” Maxine said, as she led them to a row of stacked boxes. “Evette Kingsley is single and ready to mingle. It’s about time the North Cove Mavens get back out there.”
She pulled out a box cutter and slit the throat of the first cardboard victim. “And what she wants is to mingle with your grandpa’s dingle.”
“Ohmygosh, Maxine! I swear you get more shocking every day. On purpose,” Alora laughed.
“You cannot say those kinds of things to Mr. Edwards. He’s trying to save Grandpa Horace’s paper.” The heat in Sage’s face had gone from mortified to kill me now, and Claire didn’t help one bit, all but busting her gut from laughing so hard.
“Better you than me,” Alora said with a shake of her head.
Parker wasn’t sure where to look and visibly appeared as if he might throw up.
She grabbed a trash can. “Here, need this? I often do when I talk to Maxine.”
The laugh he gave her was weak with a cry for help echoing within it.
“Help me with this, boy,” Maxine demanded. “They’ll be some moonshine in it for you later.”
Parker jumped to it. Sage assumed from abject fear since he didn’t know that Maxine’s moonshine was worth just about any mortification known to man.
It was that good.
Alora elbowed Sage in the side and whispered, “That was quite a show.”
“Shut up. I bet you and Adam have christened every inch of this place by now.”
“Maybe, but you two are so hot for each other boogers, fart jokes, and the threat of being caught didn’t even cool you off.”
Sage rolled her eyes, choosing to ignore her cousin.
In a more serious tone, Alora asked, “How are things going? Besides the tonsil inspection, I mean.” She grinned.
Sage glanced over to see Parker heaving boxes under Maxine’s instructions. If she didn’t know better, it almost looked as though the woman was having him move the boxes more than he had too. “Is she…”
“Oh yeah, she’s watching, making him put on a show. I don’t know what is in the water in this place, but the North Cove Mavens have stepped up their I’ll-do-what-I-want since Maxine’s wedding.” Alora said.
Sage resisted groaning out of sheer desperation. “If he doesn’t get scared away first, I think he’s really starting to see our town, Alora. He’s been playing with the children and making friends with the older generation. He sees how we all pull together to make one family instead of a town of families. Ya know?”
“You don’t have to convince me. I came home before you, remember?”
“I know.” Sage nodded. “I remember when you told me you were moving back. I thought you were crazy even though I’d yet to have one genuine friendship, much less a sincere relationship, in the city.” She looked around the back room of Eclectic Finds. “This is home.”
“Poor Parker’s personal Hell?”
Sage followed the direction of Alora’s gaze. Maxine had Parker backed into a corner and was feeling his biceps.
“Crap.”
As Sage moved to save him, Alora grabbed a box of crotchless panties to unload and inventory. “Adam’s going to love this.”
“So, tell me your plans for The Van Buren Tribune,” Maxine asked, as she removed tall gold dipped shot glasses of every color from a box.
“He’s still figuring things out, collecting data,” Sage said.
Parker took the opportunity to slide out from between Maxine and the wall. Moving a few more boxes aside with his leg, he used the box cutter and opened the rest, one after another.
“Now, this boy knows how to work. Okay, kids. Rack and stack, then we’ll get everything out on the floor.”
“Happy to help,” Parker said. “And to answer your question, Ms. Van Buren—”
“Maxine. It’ll make all my friends jealous if they think you see me as a woman.”
He winked. “There’s no mistaking that…Maxine.”
She smiled at Sage. “I like this one.”
“Anyway…” Sage laughed.
“With everything I’ve seen this week…” He glanced at the array of goods surrounding them, then grinned. “And it’s been a lot. I think the answer, now more than ever, is to take the Tribune online. Most of the folks I’ve been talking to are already regular users of Facebook and Snapchat—which was a huge surprise for me, to be honest. It wouldn’t be anything to create an app that’s specific for Cape Van Buren.”
“What?”
“Love it!”
Sage and Maxine spoke together.
A death grip tightened around Sage’s chest, making it difficult to breathe. All her effort to make sure Parker really saw the true Cape Van Buren suddenly seemed for naught. She showed him it was personal interactions and real intimacies that made her town’s heart beat, not a smart phone or laptop.
And he still wanted to cheapen it with gigabytes and URLs?
“Sage, you’re crushing the velvet.”
She winced. “Sorry.” She released her chokehold on the deep purple, place mats. Counting how many had been delivered, she marked the number on the inventory wand that computerized the whole store.
Grabbing another box to empty, she strategized the best way to handle this. If she went off—all boobs, and hair, and fingernails—he’d never listen, but if she hid behind her fear, he wouldn’t hear her, either.
She opened another box to find it filled with Come Again condoms.
Inspiration struck.
That was it.
“Parker, let me explain it in terms you’d understand. The Van Buren Tribune is like using condoms during sex, where online is more like an unprotected one-night stand.”
“Less sensational? I don’t really think that’s what any paper’s going for,” he answered, with a that doesn’t sound great at all look on his face.
A look she really wanted to smack off. Maybe, at this point, she’d just smother him with Grandie’s bosom.
She picked up a handful of condoms, then threw them at him.
Lifting his hands, to shield his face, he batted them away, laughing. “You asked.”
“I’m with Parker on this one,” Maxine added.
Oh, for the love of all that was holy. Sage tried again. “Nooooo,” she ground out. “Condoms with sex are a sign of respect, of true caring. They’re putting the other person’s health and well-being as well as your own in a position of priority and importance. A one-night stand is quick and over and hopefully forgotten. That’s what you’ll get if you put the Sentinel online. Sex without any connection. Without the making of a family. After the novelty wears off, it’ll be forgotten, untouched, and unwanted.”
“Damn,” Alora breathed. “I’ve never wanted to read the paper so much in my life.”
Sage scowled and threated with another handful of condoms.
Parker broke down the empty boxes as the women finished hanging the lingerie collection on rolling racks. “Sorry, Sage. You’re wrong. Taking the paper online is the answer to keeping overhead low and profits high. To keeping your job. I’ve done this before, and I’ve run all the numbers. There’s no question.”
A loud buzzing filled her head. “What do you mean, my job?”
He straightened slowly with a wary expression, and his lips pressed into a thin line. “Didn’t they explain that to you? The paper can’t afford to stay in print, the only way there’s any hope of retaining your job is for the whole system to go online, including your comics—but that isn’t guaranteed, either.” He put a hand out. “Look, drawing’s a hobby, right? Something to do to keep your creative juices flowing. Starving artist and all that? You have other options, don’t you? Because there’s a chance you’ll be drawing for yourself instead of Cape Van Buren.”
A hobby? Other options? Where the hell did this arrogant jackass come up with this stuff? He was living in New York, for God’s sake, the land of artists and broken dreams.
Broken dreams.
Her heart squeezed so hard at the thought of losing the Tribune that it was everything she could do to keep from crying. But she wouldn’t. Not in front of Parker. Not in front of the guy who couldn’t seem to take what she did for a living seriously.
Then, she thought of her submission to Andrews McMeel Publishing, and all the uncertainty turned her stomach sour and left her head pounding.
“A comic isn’t a comic if it’s read on a computer screen,” she gritted out, her voice tight, and her lids burning. Comic art couldn’t be appreciated on a computer screen, she didn’t care what the resolution was. Part of the art of a newspaper comic was the newspaper—holding it in her hand, the ink stains on her fingertips, the hot-off-the-press aroma leaving a halo of memories around her head.
Her grandfather’s warm smile as he approved her drawings from early on teased in the recesses of her mind. “You’re going to make a fine cartoonist someday, Hershey Kiss.”
She pulled her shoulders back. All thoughts of wanting to give Parker a personal tour after hours vanished, and in their place were thoughts on the best places to bury his body.
Alora laid a comforting hand on her arm.
“Again. I don’t agree,” Parker said in his all too annoying I-know-better voice.
Well, you’re stupid.
That’s what she wanted to say, anyway, but until the bottom line was signed and there was nothing left for her to do. She had to preserve the communication between them and hope she could change his mind.
Now, it wasn’t just the paper on the line but her job, too.
She had less than five days to train a gorilla.
Chapter 7
Parker closed his eyes and tried to count backward from ten, but apparently being a big, dumb gorilla made the task impossible. Thursday had come faster than expected, and little miss romantic had curiously demanded very little of him. In fact, she had been quite placating in the past day or two.
He thought it was guilt from the damned North Cove Plunge.
She’d gotten him alright. And he’d happily let her get him again if it meant having her in his arms in nothing more than a bikini. Bikinis made some women sexy, but Sage made the bikini. That was for sure.
He studied the newspaper left on his desk.
This time, the sexy little shit drew Edward the gorilla traipsing down Main Street, throwing newspapers on the ground in the new roller derby inspired lingerie set from Eclectic Finds. And it wasn’t bad enough that the big, hairy beast wore a bra—with cleavage, but there was a view from behind of the thong, too—with cleavage.
His ass was in The Van Buren Tribune, and Banon James Edwards I was not happy.
“Damn it, Parker, I told you not to screw this up.”
Rubbing the back of his neck, Parker suppressed a sigh. “I’m not screwing anyth
ing up, Mr. Edwards. I can’t control what Ms. Mathews illustrates.”
His grandfather remained silent.
“Sir.”
“The hell you can’t. Don’t act like an ass, and it won’t show up in the paper!” He slammed the paper down on the table. “I’ve called a meeting with the board. You’re an embarrassment to the Tribune.”
Parker slammed his hand down on the table. “No,” he replied in a low tone, doing everything in his power not to yell. “I’m an embarrassment to you. The thing I’ve never understood is why. I’m not my father. But apparently, you aren’t able to separate the two.” He straightened, grabbing the paper. “And all this time, I’ve been running after you as if you were the smart one.”
His grandfather’s face flushed red. “The board will most certainly—”
Parker gripped the paper tighter, telling himself he could not, in fact, slap some sense into his grandfather, no matter how much the man might need it. But it was hard. His grandfather’s constant rejection chipped away at something deep inside, something Parker had been working to rebuild after every visit.
Now, he was more tired than he was hurt from having to defend himself to a man who should know better. “The board will be impressed with the strategy I devised. The board will be thrilled with just how much of a profit margin I’ve been able to create. I’ve run the numbers, Mr. Edwards.” He couldn’t keep the sarcasm out of his message. “And I’m able to give the board more than they asked for. So, tell me…what exactly will the board say?”
“Well, now. You don’t really think this conversation is necessary, do you, Banon, honey?” Evette Kingsley marched right through the door of the conference room with a victorious smile on her face and a power play in her lanky step. She no longer had the look of a woman on the hunt, but of one who had her prey right in the palm of her hand. Like Olive Oyl if she owned all the spinach in the world.
If Parker hadn’t seen it for himself, no one, not even God himself, would have convinced him to believe it, but his grandfather blushed. With a strained voice, the old man said, “Evette, we talked about this. You can’t just show up when I’m working.”