by Quinn, Taryn
“Be right back,” I muttered to Lucky before rising to rush back behind the counter. I grabbed an apron and slung it on while discreetly nudging the new girl, Clara, out of the way just as Murphy stepped up to the counter.
“Hi there,” I said brightly. “Lovely day outside, isn’t it?”
He blinked at me, obviously surprised I’d usurped Clara, who was still wearing a bewildered expression. Then he glanced over his shoulder at the big windows. “It’s raining.”
“Oh. Right. But rain is so…cleansing, don’t you agree? Like it falls down and you feel renewed. Refreshed. Or maybe that’s just me. I’m like a daisy, soaking up all that…water.”
He pressed his lips together. “Uh, sure.”
He thinks I’m a moron. Because I am.
Already my excitement at taking command of this situation was dwindling. He was a hard man to maneuver. Probably because he was so large in all the best ways. But he was also serious and completely unsusceptible to flirting. If that was even what I was doing. He probably thought I had a social disease.
Maybe I did.
“You seemed really friendly with Sage. I didn’t realize you two knew each other.”
Another good one. As if this town wasn’t the size of a postage stamp. Almost everyone knew each other it seemed like, which was why my sperm request had been the slingshot heard around the village.
He shocked the hell out of me by smiling. “Oh, sure. We’ve been friends since high school. Lost touch for a bit but now it’s like the old days.”
I grabbed a rag and scrubbed the already spotless counter. Better to give my uncharacteristic aggression—read seething jealousy—a place to go. “How nice. What were the old days like, exactly?”
Murphy’s smile dimmed. “We were pals. Dated some. Went to the prom together actually.” His fond laugh stomped on the left ventricle of my heart.
Hell, it probably squashed the whole thing.
“Wow, so then you must be real good friends, right?” I laughed and leaned across the counter to punch his arm. He stared down at where my fist had made contact—basically it was like a gnat tapping a Sequoia—and then back up at my face as if he was confused at the turn of the conversation.
As am I, Murphy. As am I.
“Not quite sure what you mean, but she’s a nice girl. So’s her husband. I mean, Oliver’s not a girl.” Murphy exhaled. “Can I just grab the order for Gideon’s crew, please?”
“Her husband is nice. But I bet he’d probably rip off the arm of anyone who tried to make the moves on Sage. Not that you couldn’t take him.” I punched him again, because that move had worked so well the first time. “You’re a big boy, right?”
Oh my God, I was dying inside. Millimeter by millimeter. Any second now, my body would turn to ash and just dissolve to the floor.
“The order,” Murphy said, his voice strangled.
“Right.” I glanced at Clara, who was wringing her hands and looking stupefied. She wasn’t the only one. “Can you snag that, please? I’m still on my break.”
Rather than asking me why the hell was I serving customers then—kind of, badly—Clara hurried to comply.
“Yes, better get back to your lunch date.” Murphy looked pointedly over his shoulder at Lucky, who was wiggling his fingers at me from our circular table.
Wasn’t that a kick? Not only had I fully embarrassed myself, Murphy was now asking me to go away.
I’d just go dunk my head in a puddle now. That way I could soak up more water like a dumb-ass daisy.
“I’m sorry,” I said in an undertone. I couldn’t look him in the face. “I’m sleep-deprived. And I’m trying to cut back on caffeine.”
With that brilliant explanation, I fled.
I did not go back to finish lunch with Lucky, although my stomach was growling. I also didn’t make it back on time. I was too busy hanging out on a throne in the john, scrolling on my phone so I didn’t think about what a pathetic excuse for a single woman in her twenties I was.
Good thing I’d met Cabin Fortress online. It was clear I needed time to come up with proper responses.
It was also clear it was good I was trying to procreate on my own. The chances of me finding my dream man when I couldn’t even make two minutes of pleasant conversation were slim.
The weird thing was, I wasn’t really that bad normally at social stuff. I mean, I was no dating wizard, but I’d had my share of boyfriends. Some long-term, some short, but none had run away screaming when things had come to their natural end. At least that I was aware of. The last guy I’d dated had even said my blowjob technique was spectacular.
Which was neither here nor there, since he’d said it while I had his dick in my mouth and he’d broken up with me two days later, but whatever. I had to take my wins where I found them.
But something about Murphy made me act…well, ridiculous, especially lately. I wanted to make such a good impression that I just lost all sense.
Or maybe I really needed to return to my regular amount of caffeine. Fast.
The final option was to ask Sage what she had that caused Murphy to act so natural with her. Was it their shared past? Had she rocked his world in a 1989 Pontiac after the prom?
Or before?
Then again, she also wore a summery floral perfume. Perhaps it was that. It couldn’t hurt. I smelled like flour and coffee beans. Which weren’t bad scents, just not particularly sexy.
I dropped my head in my hands. I was fucked.
Except not.
To try to drag myself out of my tsunami of woe, I looked at my phone again. I reread the end of last night’s chat log with my mystery man, smiling a little at how we’d danced around the subject of sex. We were doing that more lately. Veering closer and closer. Last night, I’d told him in an offhand way—ish—that I didn’t mind the idea of a little light bondage with a lover.
Not that I’d ever experienced it, but it was on my fucket list. Similar concept to a bucket list, except it referred to sexual experiences I wanted to have. The list was getting longer every day my dry spell extended.
Now I might be on the verge of scaring off Cabin Fortress with all my talk of ropes and ball gags.
Nah, I hadn’t gone that far. Thank God.
With a little wine in me though, it was anyone’s guess what would pop out of these fingers. Especially when I was horny.
My mystery man was really good at getting me horny.
So was Murphy.
Maybe my libido was just an indiscriminate ho. Because these two guys seriously rang my bell.
It was better than wondering if my loins were so eager because it’d been so long since I’d enjoyed an actual penis that didn’t have a jack that said DC power.
Rather than pondering that disturbing thought, I sent off a quick note to Fortress to try to mitigate last night’s wine-induced chatter. Sort of. I didn’t really know how to make things better, only worse.
Too late now. The message was sent.
Somehow I stumbled back upon my post in the group. It was buried under more recent posts, but it had so many comments that it kept bouncing back up. I read the newest comments with one eye closed, expecting the usual filthy remarks.
I definitely got some of those.
BigTireMan: Goodtothelastdrop, shouldn’t I be saying that to you? Maybe I’ll put it on my résumé. If you wanna see it, hit me up.
LastRodeoo069: I’m not sure if I can impregnate you, but I’d love to try. How’s tomorrow after lunch? My wife is leaving for a business trip. I’d love to have some biz of my own. Har-har.
Raiders4Lyfe: If you’re serious, Vee, I’m game. I’ve been told I never miss a target, and I have lots of practice with this one. Lots. *winky face*
I sighed. God, men could be seriously gross.
But then I read another kind of comment. A much better one.
PurpleUni: I just wanted to say thank you for being so brave. I would love to do something like this, but it’s scary and hard to know wher
e to turn. You’ve given me hope that I can be as proactive as you are. Women shouldn’t have to wait forever on a dream that may not happen for them. I hope you find your Mr. Right Now.
Aww, how sweet. And best of all, that wasn’t the only one like that. There were several others, and when I checked my Facebook inbox—which I’d avoided for days—there were more messages waiting there. Enough women wanted some direction and support on how to go after the baby they wanted that I decided to make another impulsive move.
One that felt really good.
I added a comment to my post.
Thank you so much for your kind words, ladies. I haven’t felt particularly brave lately. Mostly foolish, to be honest. But hearing from a few of you has given me renewed confidence. I’d love to chat with some of you in person, if you’d like to meet up. Just message me here and I’ll get back to you. Maybe we can all help each other with support at the very least.
A knock thundered on the bathroom door just as I hit enter on my comment.
“Vee, are you taking up my bathroom so paying customers can’t use it? You better have an epic case of the runs. Otherwise get yourself out here and back to work.”
“Coming, Mace.” I hurried out of the stall and washed my hands and splashed some water on my flushed cheeks. Then I rushed to throw open the door and smiled at my annoyed boss. “Don’t suppose you’d mind loaning me your reading nook for an evening, would you? Just for an hour or so. Pretty please.”
If I needed it, but I was thinking positively.
I was, dammit.
Macy looked skyward. “Lord, why am I being tested?”
“If I get the turnout I’m thinking I might, you’ll have at least five to ten new customers by the end of the night.”
“I’m listening. Talk fast before my patience swirls down the bowl like your tips.”
I grinned and slid my arm through hers. “Just think. A whole group of women who want to have babies meeting here. Isn’t that fabulous?”
“You’re fired.”
Seven
Fortress, last night it occurred to me that maybe you were assuming I might want you to tie me up. Not you, per se, but a man I became intimate with. I didn’t want you to think I only like bondage games. I’m quite fine with so-called regular forking. Girl on top? Yasss. Man on top? Oh, yeah. Doggy style? Dude, sign me up. I might even be down for some back door backgammon, with lots of prep. I’ve never done that though, so I’d have to stock up on lube and that warming jelly for that one. Just saying I’m an open-minded sort. Are you an open-minded guy? Please elaborate. Yours, Vee
Sweet Jesus, this woman was going to kill me.
I stared at the ceiling of my bedroom. Sun streamed through the floor-to-ceiling window. And I was making a damn good impression of a sun dial.
Christ.
I looked down at my poor, lonely dick tenting my quilt. Morning wood was a good bit of the problem, but the other half was definitely one Veronica Dixon and her message.
We’d been dancing around the topic of sex in our chats and last night she’d put the scarves and silk rope ideas in my brain. I still hadn’t recovered from that, but the rest?
My phone buzzed in my hand and I groaned. I wasn’t sure I could take another email from her. I’d be in a cold shower again.
I was getting damn tired of them.
Not to mention they weren’t working. I looked down to see Gideon’s name and relief helped a few of my problems.
One, that I’d originally had a long day of nothing on tap.
If Gideon needed me, at least I could stop obsessing about this woman. At least for five minutes.
I swung my legs off the side of my bed and read the text. A single day job a few towns over sounded like the perfect way to get my head straight.
Because I really didn’t know how to answer that message.
I replied back that I’d meet him on site and set my music to filter into my bathroom from my phone. I liked a rustic look to my cabin, but I was a proud geek. I’d created my own smart house and was looking into maybe adding it as a project I could work on with Gideon.
In the winter months, the construction business was a lot slower. While I had my company Cabin Fortress for gaming and apps, I still liked to come up with new ways to challenge my brain. Installing smart homes could be a way to keep me busy in the off months.
I was still picking over ideas as The Brothers Osborne rocked me through a shower and shave. I had a little time to work on one of the outsourced projects I should have done three days ago.
Veronica was a distraction I wasn’t used to.
Compartmentalizing my life had been easy until that damn message on The Cove group. Now I was juggling two jobs and a secret identity. Cabin Fortress Man, I was not.
Unfortunately, Brewed Awakening was way out of the way for this job, so I made my own substandard coffee. The grounds were fresh from the café, but Macy had some magic in her machine. It never tasted the same.
I filled my thermos and pulled on my Carhartt jacket. Finally, there was a snap in the air. Fall was my favorite season. The air was different. Crisp with a hint of the winter to come, but there was still enough sun to make the outdoor work bearable.
I pulled in behind Gideon’s truck on a huge circular drive. It was so freshly paved I expected my boots to stick on the blacktop. I heard the telltale headbanger music in the backyard. Fucking awesome. Lucky would be on the crew today.
He generally was, but occasionally Gideon had multiple jobs going at once, so he spread out his people. Just my luck—pardon the pun—that I got to work with the guy who was making it his mission in life to flirt with the woman of my goddamn dreams.
And she flirted back.
The huge fucker practically had Darwinism tattooed on his shoulder. Followed by, “I make awesome swimmers and was born to breed.”
Fuck.
My fingertips went white with the grip on my thermos as I stalked around the house. At least the music was loud enough that I didn’t need to make small talk with him.
Gideon waved me over to the edge of the property. “We’re pulling down this old tree house and building something a little sturdier for the little man who lives here.”
I tipped my head back to look at the very crooked, very precarious lines of lumber. “Dad tried to do it himself with YouTube again?”
“Yep.” Gideon put his hands on his hips. “Macy’s coffee?”
I held out my thermos. “Kind of. Her blend, my coffeemaker.”
Gideon made a face but filled his to-go mug anyway. “Thanks.”
Lucky came up. “Is that Macy’s coffee I smell?”
I opened my mouth to tell him to fuck off, but of course I didn’t. He took my thermos and dumped most of it in his tumbler made for giants.
“Oh, sorry. Did you have some?” he asked over the mouth of his cup, waggling his eyebrows. “Damn good stuff. And she’s hot as fuck. Not to mention that cute little sprite that works with her. I’d bang the lot of them.”
“Jesus, Lucky.” Gideon shot him a look. “Did your mama hand out any manners?”
“That would require having a mama.” Lucky turned away with his mug, whistling in his off-tune way.
I couldn’t imagine not having a mom. And that meant he was a lot more like Veronica than I was. Another point in his goddamn pro list. Shit.
“Don’t let him get to you.”
“I’m not.”
“You’re a shitty liar, son.” Gideon took another swig from his cup. “Let’s get this done. I don’t want to charge them for another day of labor.”
“You sure we can get this done in a day?”
“Why you and Lucky are here. If anyone can do it, it’s the three of us.”
I sighed. That was the truth. We were the quickest and most precise ones on the team. The good thing about a time limit was that meant Lucky didn’t have time to make a lot of smart-ass comments.
I jumped up on the wide, sturdy branch and climbed the
tree to start ripping down the plywood nailed to an inch of its life.
Slowly, I smoothed my hand down the bark. “Dad didn’t know what he was doing,” I whispered to the tree. “We’ll fix you up and you can give their little boy years of fun.”
“Are you talking to the tree?”
I flushed at Lucky’s voice. “No.”
“I think you are. You’re made to be one of the famed dads of Crescent Cove. What the hell is taking you so long to talk to the current baby mama chaser?”
My molars clicked together. “Can’t we just work?”
“Well, you’ve been dancing around the cute baker for weeks—hell, for over a year now. What the hell is taking you so long?”
“Why do you care? You’re flirting enough for the both of us.”
“I mean, I’ll take her up on the offer to bang one out for a chance to get a few of my swimmers to hit the bullseye. Hell, I probably have a few kids out there anyway. Not like it’s a big thing to me.”
“Keep your unwrapped shit away from her.”
“Aww, Moose. You keep giving me the death glare like you’ve got laser beam superpowers, but don’t do anything about it. Besides, I’m clean as hell, young Jedi. I just know my light saber has some extra strength prowess.”
Way to mix your metaphors, douche.
“So, get in the ring,” he continued. “She says she’s not into the whole family values part, but just look at her. She’s already got the baking part down. Bun in the oven and she’s on her way to going for housewife of the year.”
I jumped down to the grass, my boots crunching through the first leaves that had come off the trees. I crowded into him. “First of all, have you even heard of the word feminism? Do you even know what you’re saying? And second, keep talking about Veronica like that and we’re going to have a problem.”
“What are you going to do, Boy Scout? Have your big brother arrest me?”
I pushed him back three steps. “I grew up with three brothers. I can take care of myself, son.”