Speaking of cupcakes, Will wants two dozen off your special menu to take on the road after the wedding.” “The, erm, peach kind?” “The peach kind,” Lindsey said. “I like the peach kind,” Josh said. Mikey had named them Sex on a Peach. And they were Kimmie’s second biggest seller, after the Hairy Dicks, which were coconut cake balls strategically placed with Dahlia’s chocolate-covered, ice cream-filled bananas. And Josh’s frown had disappeared, and now he was grinning as if he knew it. All of it.
Her eyes slid closed, her secret places pulsed in anticipation, and his lips settled onto the skin beneath her ear. That was magic. She held perfectly still. He pressed a kiss to her neck. Then another, lower. A third, even lower. She squirmed. He dropped his hands. “Sorry. I---“ “Don’t stop,” Kimmie whispered.
Your mother can’t hear you here.” “Distance is no match for my mother’s eavesdropping and mind-reading skills.” “I had steel anti-mind-reading plates installed this week. Specially designed to be Marilyn-proof. Also sounds an alarm if she gets within two hundred yards of the building, and I sent the guards downstairs to ninja training. You’re safe.
Is he nice?” one whispered over her gum paste roses for this weekend’s wedding cakes. “Um, obviously,” Kimmie said. “You’re why he’s always coming around? I know he’s hot stuff in Chicago, but he always seems so stiff when he comes here,” another added from the sink. “Honey, you want them stiff,” a third said…
Are those the Edible Undies cupcakes?” one of the women in the kitchen asked. “They’re the Nipple Lickers,” Kimmie answered. “Without the nipples.” “I heard you perfected the Sex on a Peach cupcakes,” another feminine voice said. “Can you squeeze me in for a double order of Spank Me Strawberries the weekend before Knot Fest?
The Milked Duck was empty, save for Dahlia’s two part-timehelpers, but they were all rushing around, anticipating the firstguests for her Risqué Flavor Tasting event any moment now.The up front freezers were stocked with Chocolate Orgasm,Peachy Passion, Sexual Favors, Mikey’s favorite Cherry Popperand more. She had a case of Sin on a Stick treats ready to go and atemporary menu up on the board behind her.
I am so not kissing you tonight,” she informed him.He chuckled softly. And if she thought his smile wasdangerous, his chuckle should’ve been classified as a biologicalweapon. Sin in a sound wave.“But now you’re thinking about what it would be like, ain’tyou?” he said.“Only my stupid parts.
He looked up from the paper he was scribbling on and offeredher a lopsided grin. “Hey, sweet pea. You bring me anythingspecial?”The lopsided bit wasn’t odd, but there was something forcedabout it. “Got a fresh bag of cat food outside.” Cat food that she’dbought with the twenty he’d left to pay for his ice cream.He pushed his makeshift drum set aside and rose with astretch. “Words every man dreams of hearing. Make my night ifyou say you got catnip too.”She tried not to giggle. She tried hard.But she couldn’t help herself. “Extra strength,” she said.This time, his grin came out bigger, less forced. “Woman ofmy dreams.”“In your dreams,” she said.
Two years ago, she had inherited The Milked Duck Ice Cream Shoppe in downtown Bliss from Great Aunt Agnes. After gettingher degree in sociology and then bouncing around the country, waffling from job to job and one relative’s couch to another, she’d finally found where she fit: creating and serving happiness to the locals and the destination wedding tourists in Bliss.
Those gray eyes slid back to her. “Your shower big enough for two?”“Yes, but the cats don’t like to get wet. Neither does theguinea pig. But you might have some success with the lizard.”Bad, bad move. Because both corners of his mouth weregetting in on the smile action. He moved them one at a time, first the right corner, then a slow follow from the left corner.And then he showed his dimple.
She ran her hands under his shirt, over his chest, her cooltouch igniting shivers over his skin. “Is this a ploy to get another song out of me?” she asked.“It’s a ploy to get you out of your pants.”“And what, exactly, are you planning on doing once you getme out of my pants?”Will felt his lips curving up again. “Darlin’, you leave thedetails to me.
And this is Kimmie Elias.”Kimmie inhaled a loud breath. “I had a dream you were thelove child of Bugs Bunny and the abominable snowman, but in my dream that was a good thing, and you lived in a mushroom that hadsecret passages into outer space,” she said.And here he thought he’d already heard it all.
Smoke hung heavy in the air. Will’s eyes stung. His throat.His nose. And the crackling. God, the crackling fire was like the devil laughing.Vera was in that house.Mikey gripped his arm. “Hold on, Will—”Will lunged forward. “Vera—”“Whoa, Will.” Mikey’s grip tightened. “Stop.”“The hell I will. Vera—”“Billy?” One of the cops approached him. Said a bunch ofwords. Helped Mikey hold Will back.Vera was in that house.Vera, her trusty wooden body, her frets, her new strings. Vera,who’d had his back everywhere from Pickleberry Springs toNashville to New York to LA, from seedy bars to stadiums.Vera, who’d helped him write his first song. His last song.Every song in between.
That was his biggest regret. He loved playing for aliving, loved hearing his songs on the radio, loved being on a stage and the road, but some days, he wouldn’t have minded going home every night to a sweet wife and a couple babies and fried chicken on the table. That was what Lindsey had taken from him. He’d fallen hard. He’d seen what his momma must’ve felt for his daddy, he’d felt his world crack right down the middle when the girl who hadbecome his everything ripped his heart out of his chest.
Lindsey had a nearly uncontrollable desire to run herfingers through his hair, to see if it was as soft today as it had been the last time she’d known him. And that thick stubble on his cheeks and chin was long enough to be soft too. The good soft.Especially against her softer parts.Intrigue and desire warmed the smileys on her panties.
It is utterly unfair,” she said, shooing Wrigley away andtossing aside her blanket, “that your country boy smile isn’tillegal.” She pulled her feet from beneath him, but then she swung a leg over him and straddled his lap, still smiling at him while she took his cheeks in her hands and pressed a soft, open-lipped kiss to his mouth.Will’s pulse kicked up the tempo. He gripped her hips andpushed against her, parted his lips to make way for her tongue.Music exploded inside him. Electric guitars, keyboard, fiddle,bongos. No words, just the white-hot melody of their bodies.The intoxicating scent of her shampoo tickled his nose, but the intrigued woman scent was stronger—heady and spicy and everything.He wanted her.
She was his, but she wasn’t.I don’t do love, she’d said.But with her, he didn’t know any other way. Even when hewanted to protect himself, he knew. She was the only one who made him hear music. The only one who made him feel home. The only one who wanted nothing more than for him to be plain, simple Will Truitt.
CJ stepped toward her. His hand found her cheek. Natalie's eyes drifted shut. He was going to kiss her. "Good thing we practiced five years ago," he whispered. Natalie whimpered out a pathetic laugh, but then his lips were on hers, his hand tangled in her hair, his other hand holding her against him.And he kissed her.
She hoped he kissed her.Only her.And that when he kissed her, he was thinking about her.Only her.If he kissed her, she would kiss him back.She would kiss him back with everything she had.Every last person in the stadium would watch her kiss him, and every last one of them would know she wouldn't have minded kissing him forever.
My clue is that you're supposed to keep going once you've found me."His eyes narrowed. Thoughtfully, as though he were looking for the words she wanted to say instead. "Keep going in the maze?" he said slowly. "Or keep going somewhere else?"The man had an evil streak. "The maze," she said firmly.Helpfully. Like a dutiful daughter of Bliss."Because there are a few places I'd like to go with you.
She gulped her whiskey sour. The bar was hot tonight.CJ circled back to check on them. "You ladies doing okay?""Define okay." Natalie's whiskey seemed to be talking. Because the whiskey was the only thing that could've put that husky, suggestive tone in her voice. Yep, that was all the whiskey.He propped his elbows on the bar, which put his face level with hers, and fixed his undivided attention on her. There went her lady bits fanning themselves. With a few added whimpers. They remembered what his hands and body and lips felt like too."Content." His voice was low and raw, his gaze penetrating and unwavering. "Happy. Completely, one hundred percent satisfied."Her mouth went dry while the rest of her went up in needy flames that made her want to scratch the all-but-gone rash he'd tended so well on Monday."Nope," Natalie squeaked. "Not okay then.
I'm fine," she said. "I'm just hiding from the Queen General and her latest poster boy.""The Queen General?" Which one of his sisters fit that description?More like which one didn't."Queen General Marilyn," his visitor said. "Supreme ruler of Bliss and chairperson of Knot Festival."The words 'Knot Festival' twisted CJ's stomach, and the room seemed to climb ten degrees hotter. He tugged at his bow tie. The woman kept talking...Marilyn rewrote the Golden Husband Games rules so her Exalted Widower is eligible to be named Husband of the Half Century. And you know what? He's the reason my husband left me.
They don't like my kind in here," Arthur said to CJ...I own a shop on The Aisle. Huck there" - Arthur nodded at the barkeep - "isn't a fan of the wedding industry.""Why not?""Guy's been divorced three times and has a bar called Suckers in the most married-est town on earth. He caters to the underground wedding haters and single groomsmen.
There's something you need to know," he said.Her own breath came out loud and uneven. He was entirely in her personal space, but she'd given him enough power as it was. She wouldn't back away, wouldn't let him see her agitation. He tucked her hair behind her ear. Tension took hold of her body. She shuddered, looked up to tell him to stop, but he bent forward, his lips parted, a single freckle on his cheek drawing her attention while his lips got closer and closer and closer until ---"For future reference," he said, "I never kiss horribly." And before she could blink or breathe or think, his lips closed over hers. His grip tightened in her hair, and when she should've protested or pulled away or kicked him in the shins, her body melted into his. Kissing him was wrong.... So wrong. She was so good at so wrong.