Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Deuce
Valentina let me rub her feet last night and feed her takeout, a huge step in the trust department.
She fell asleep on the couch, her head in my lap.
I stayed there for longer than I’d like to admit, enthralled with stroking her dark hair and watching her sleep.
She looked so soft and sweet in slumber.
Eventually, I lifted her in my arms and put her to bed.
Today, the mob boss is back, shouting orders, giving death glares, and moving so quickly in her stilettos that I barely see her and then she’s gone again.
My models all look amazing, if I do say so myself.
I pull my inspiration from Europe for most of these looks, blending that unparalleled sophistication with the historical looks we prefer here in the South.
I’m the last model to take the catwalk, a position of honor I didn’t expect Valentina to give me.
The music changes and that’s my cue. I strut out, muscles immediately locking into place.
I’ve walked a lot of fashion shows, so my facial muscles know the exact look.
Strong jaw, hollow cheeks, bored eyes, but slightly lifted eyebrow.
A bit of a strut, but also a commanding pace to my gait.
The crowd cheers and I feel that familiar pulse of adrenaline.
I hit the end of the catwalk and pause, scanning the crowd.
There she is.
Yelling at the taco truck vendor while she watches me. Her violence can multitask.
Her hair is slicked back like New York Valentina, but her dress is a shimmering emerald with ruffles and a belt to cinch in her waist. The heels are stilettos, but in a matching emerald with a huge flower on the toe and at the ankle where the straps crisscross her gorgeous calves. She’s stunning.
And I’ve missed my cue to turn.
I pivot, walking back to the sounds of whistles and cheers.
The show ends with every single model from all four Heaven boutiques crowding onto the stage.
I take to the front of the catwalk with Mary London, Silas, and Darby Kate.
We all take two bows when prompted and then Mayor Jackson Pruett comes to the microphone to thank everyone for coming to our third annual Battle of the Boutiques.
He proceeds to tell the crowd that the winner will be determined by their cheers.
He heads to Silas, who gets a thorough round of applause and cheers.
He won the first year. Darby Kate gets a lot of bells ringing, which is the way her demographic cheer, considering they’re mostly over seventy and don’t have the vocal tenacity to holler.
Mary London won last year and gets a ton of cheers again.
Her target market, the college sorority girls, can be very vocal. And then it’s my turn.
The amount of wolf whistles of the female variety have me realizing I should have been modeling every year.
I smirk, which only makes the ladies whistle more.
I spot Valentina in the back of the crowd, clipboard in hand, a scowl etched across her face as she glares at the ladies whistling the loudest. That just makes me crack up more.
Mayor Pruett gets the crowd to calm down and then announces the winner.
“The winner of the third annual Heaven, Mississippi, Battle of the Boutiques is Saint’s Suits and Deuce St. Legare!”
Pride in a job well done puffs up my chest. I step forward, Silas clapping me on the back in congratulations, and take a bow.
Mayor Pruett hands me a trophy that just arrived half an hour ago and only because I paid for a courier to find the broken-down truck and rescue the items Valentina needed for today.
The mayor hands me the microphone for my acceptance speech.
“Landry, come on up here, baby.”
The crowd erupts again. I see her turn that glare on me, but she moves, coming toward the stage. She carefully makes her way up the three stairs and then she’s next to me, muttering under her breath about not drawing attention.
And normally, I’d agree.
But this is my moment in the spotlight, and I don’t want to be here without Valentina.
“Thank you, Heaven, for being my home. Thank you for this honor of being able to serve you and outfit you with the finest suits this side of the Mississippi!” I hold up the trophy.
“This is for you, this is for my lovely Landry to whom my success is due, and this is for Heaven, the best little town in the South!”
The crowd erupts and I go with the energy, turning away from the microphone and pulling Valentina into my arms. I tip her over my arm in one forceful movement, getting her where I want her before she finds her knife under her skirt and jabs me with it.
My lips claim hers and something lights up in my chest when she kisses me back.
The wolf whistles remind me this is a very public moment, so I quickly pull her back up to standing and nod my thanks to the crowd.
Valentina’s cheeks are flushed and I’m pretty sure it’s from me, not the unrelenting summer heat.
The little smile creeping onto her lips is definitely from me.
I take her hand in mine, thread our fingers together, and get off the stage.
The crowd disperses and plenty of people stop to congratulate me.
I know Valentina needs to get back to work, so I go with her after changing into shorts and a polo, determined to help her so she’s not overwhelmed.
I didn’t like seeing her dissolve into a panic attack yesterday.
Everyone has flooded the boutiques after the fashion show. I have to grit my teeth to keep from running into mine to help out. I hired extra staff just for this weekend. I have to trust that Lottie has things under control. Guess Valentina’s not the only one with trust issues.
There’s a scuttle over by the tea truck. Valentina and I both notice it at the same time and move as one in that direction. A woman is flailing her arms and trading words with Willard Graham, the man working the truck.
“What is this crap? Like suckin’ on a lemon. Is this how your mama raised ya?”
“What’s going on?” Valentina lets go of my hand to charge into the fray.
The woman turns to her, her face in a grimace as she holds a cup of tea in the air. “This iced tea is unsweetened!”
There’s a gasp from every citizen in the vicinity.
All heads turn in our direction. Valentina’s face goes pale.
She looks up at Willard in the truck, who just shrugs.
She grabs the tea out of the woman’s hands and mumbles something about making it right.
We both run around to the side of the truck to climb aboard.
Willard whispers that he just used the tea that was ordered like he always does.
Valentina checks her clipboard, flipping through pages frantically. “I ordered it two weeks ago. Same as last year’s order.” She bites her lip. “I think.”
I grab the clipboard out of her hands and look at the order form. I wince when I see it. “You ordered unsweetened,” I say quietly and hopefully without blame.
Valentina groans.
Willard looks stricken. “What are we gonna do?”
I hand Valentina the clipboard, staying calm. “I know someone who will loan us sugar. Stay here. For waiting so patiently, say you’ll give the first fifteen iced-tea orders for free. I’ll be right back.”
I race out of the truck before Valentina or Willard can comment.
Pulling out my phone, I dial Mama B, the owner of Mama’s, the restaurant on the Square with old-fashioned Southern cuisine.
She’ll be closed today, but she’ll have sugar in the storage room.
She answers, the noise in the background loud. Good. She must be here at the Square.
“Mama B. I need a favor.”
“I got you, Deuce.”
She not only meets me outside Mama’s, but she gives me a ten-pound bag of sugar with promises of more if I need it. She also slips me a lemon meringue pie I intend to devour tonight after we get home.
“Bless you, Mama B.”
Her cheeks go redder than usual. “Oh, you blessed me, alright. By walking in that fashion show!” She cackles and I kiss her quickly on the cheek.
I race back to the iced-tea truck, weighed down by different forms of sugar. Willard sees the sack of sugar and jumps into action, dumping its entire contents into the vat of tea. He stirs while Valentina dabs at the corner of her eyes.
“Thank you,” she whispers as I walk past, busy getting the plastic cups ready with ice.
I kiss her on the cheek and start handing the cups to Willard to be filled with lip-puckering sweet tea. “I told you I got you, V.”
Then I’m leaning out the window, laughing and charming my way through the line as I hand out free iced teas. “Can you believe I ordered the wrong tea? I might just need reading glasses after all.”
I take the fall for the ordering snafu. After all, Valentina should never have been handed the huge responsibility of running this whole event. She’s new here and only volunteered as a way to one-up me back when we still engaged in such juvenile teasing.
When things are back on track and Willard assures me he’ll be fine now, Valentina and I exit the truck. I spin in her direction, seeing the way the stress of this event has left dark smudges under her eyes.
“Can we agree not to one-up each other anymore?”
She laughs softly. “Yeah, I think I learned my lesson on that.”
The sun is setting and the temperature is finally dropping. The first band of the night starts their set and people mill about happily. All the fires have been put out. Valentina steps up into my chest and wraps her hands around my neck, her fingers massaging the tense muscles.
“Follow me,” she whispers.
I don’t bother to ask questions because quite frankly, I’d follow her just about anywhere.
We push through the crowds and emerge in the back alley of Saint’s Row.
When she opens the door to the storage room of Saint’s Suits, I don’t stop her.
Maybe she left something in here she needs that didn’t fit into her binder or clipboard.
But instead of heading for the table she used as a workstation, she pushes me into the back corner behind a rack of clothing that hasn’t been priced yet.
“What are you—”
My voice cuts off as Valentina drops to her knees right there in the dark, her hands on my belt.
She has my khakis undone before I can catch my breath or squeeze words past my thick throat.
And then she’s wrapping her hands around my half-hard dick and licking the top like she ordered an ice cream cone that’s melting in the summer heat.
“V,” I wheeze, muscles locking up at the feel of her velvety hot tongue swiping across the tip.
She smiles up at me like the devil got ahold of her.
Then she bobs her head and takes me all the way to the back of her throat.
I swear I’m rock hard in an instant, my hands flying to her head to try to get her to slow down.
It’s impossible though. The woman is determined and I’m just a man.
A man who loves every stroke up and down my shaft, the way her fingers tighten around me almost painfully.
The way her other hand cups my balls like she can control me.
Which she absolutely can. I couldn’t move from this spot if the damn boutique was on fire.
She hums like she’s enjoying herself and I feel it in the base of my spine.
She pulls up, her teeth grazing the rim and it’s just scandalous enough to have goose bumps firing up every inch of my skin.
She soothes the skin with a full lick of her tongue.
Then she purrs up at me, her voice throaty and deep.
“I appreciate your help today, ciuccio.”
It’s the mean nickname that has me finding my voice again. “Shut up and show me your appreciation.”
She grins so wickedly I find myself grinning right back. Then her head bobs and she sucks me back into her warmth…mouth, tongue, and hands gliding up and down in a punishing rhythm. I’m so close to spilling into her mouth. So close to letting her push me over the edge.
But something’s not right.
Just a week or two ago, I would have let her.
But she doesn’t need to show her appreciation for my help. I would help her any day of the week without even a thank-you. I don’t like that she thinks she needs to show her thanks for what should be common courtesy.
So I yank on her hair and pull her off my cock.
She pops off with a startled gasp. I let go of her hair and grab her under the armpits, lifting her to her feet like a doll.
“What—”
“Shut up,” I growl, spinning her around and pushing her against the wall. Her hands slap down on the brick, her neck twisting as she tries to see what I’m doing. I reach for my wallet, hoping I have a condom there, but Valentina stops me.
“I went on birth control after the broken-condom fiasco.”
My grin is instantaneous. I flip her skirt up and push the gorgeous black lace of her panties to the side.
She bends forward with a moan and pushes her hips out.
God yes. She wants this as much as I do.
I run the head of my cock up and down her flesh, finding her wet and ready.
Goddamn, she was turned on while she sucked my dick.
The thought makes me weak in the knees with want.
I plunge inside her tight body in one forceful thrust, both of us freezing in a rush of pleasure.
Then I’m moving, in and out of her in a rapid rhythm that shows just how out of my mind I am for her.
“See? Dresses…are…amazing,” I manage to say, slamming into her again and again.
She’s laughing when she comes, my name on her lips and her body quivering around mine. I follow right after, with only one thought in my mind.
What the fuck am I going to do?
I’ve fallen in love with Valentina all over again.