Chapter 10
Nic shook sleet off an umbrella as he entered the lobby of the large government building. Felicity shed her heaviest coat and put it over her arm, still shivering. October was too early for sleet, but Kansas did not give a fuuuck.
Nic stopped to look at the directory before pointing to the hallway off to the right.
He had worn his nicest T-shirt for the occasion, and Felicity was wearing a dress that she hoped made her look like a professional business owner but Samantha said was giving sexy librarian.
Such a chronic conundrum for a curvy woman with tits needing bra sizes falling much later in the alphabet.
She was concerned about this until she saw the way her “friend” Nic checked out her ass when he picked her up.
After that she only worried about her ability to stop from giving her hips an extra swish or two as she trotted ahead of him.
She counted door numbers until they reached the conference room assigned to the public forum.
They each carried a binder of city ordinances with them, everything tabbed and cross-referenced by Abbott and Samantha, who couldn’t be there due to a sudden stomach bug.
They had spent the last few weeks collecting signatures on a petition. Courtney and Thea were out of town.
No one else in the neighborhood was thrilled about the potential parking garage either.
They headed into the meeting and slid into seats in the back row. People milled about, chatting with the group up front for a few minutes, until they all filtered to their seats. Bruce was seated at the very end of the long council table.
Two hours passed. Two hours of listening to debates on parking meter brands and disagreements on which chemical company supplier to use for the next pool season, which was over nine months away. There were three docketed issues ahead of building permit 65873 for empty lot SCC #456183a.
Felicity’s hands twitched in her lap.
Nic leaned over to whisper in her ear. “What’re the odds Bruce orchestrated the schedule to torture us into leaving?” Next to her, Nic was so enormous and the seats so narrow that his fingers brushed against the thin fabric covering her thigh any time he shifted his weight.
She shook with silent laughter. “It’s the chess player in him. Strategy. He probably made sure we also lost the only two members of our group who had the credentials for this to illness. I sure wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Hey, speak for yourself. I had a couple years of Ivy League prelaw under my belt before culinary school.”
“Between that and the single business law class I took by accident in undergrad, we might as well open up our own firm.” Felicity smirked. “Also, I’ll have you know, I’m keeping myself engaged by mentally writing fanfic backstories for all of the council members.”
Nic’s chest shuddered with quiet laughter. “Color me intrigued.”
“Baldy over there is in love with the guy in the glasses. Look at the way those legs are crossed toward each other. It screams comphet pining.”
Nic clamped his mouth shut.
“The hot one with the balayage is ten times smarter than everyone else up there, so I’m betting she’s a secret government operative who was demoted for being too much of an outspoken badass. She’s been assigned to monitor fascist chess store actuaries as a punishment.”
As Nic leaned in to respond, he swept an escaped section of Felicity’s hair behind her ear, sending a prickling shiver over her shoulders.
“I think you’re wrong about Baldy. He seemed to thoroughly enjoy your dress when you walked in.
To the point that I strongly considered asking him to put his eyes back in his head.
” He said it in a wry tone, but his knuckles blanched on the armrest of the auditorium chair.
“Maybe he’s bisexual. Don’t erase the existence of gender-nonspecific ogling.”
He gave a small shrug. “I’ve never put much stock in gender myself. Pansexuality was always my baseline.”
“Oh?” Felicity shifted her hips in the stiff seat and propped her elbow on the armrest between them.
“Yep.” He gave a crooked smile. “You look surprised.”
“Guess I thought since you’re from Texas…”
“Born in Los Angeles, actually.” He raised his eyebrows. “But I do know a lot of other queer people in Texas. You know what they say about assumptions.”
“Well, I already know you’re an ass.” She poked him in the shoulder aaaand could have broken a fingernail on the muscles underneath that T-shirt.
“Touché.” His mouth twitched. “So, are you ready?”
“What?” Her voice was breathless.
He reached down, and for a second of absolute lunacy, a fantasy of his fingers beneath her skirt played in her brain.
The hazy memory of him that night in September saying he’d make her come so hard she’d fall over seem to echo in her ears.
The skin on her neck burned from the feeling of his breath against it.
She didn’t care she was in an auditorium.
It was dark. She could be quiet. That would be a fun game, to see how silent she could stay with his long fingers rubbing soaked circles over her—
“If you’re feeling feverish, I can probably handle this.”
“Handle what?”
His hand emerged from beneath her seat with the crisp stack of packets for the council members they’d spent half the night making with Samantha, Abbott, and Courtney before the former two descended into the misery of norovirus.
“I just mean, if you feel like you’re getting that stomach thing—”
“Oh right. No, I’m fine. No stomach things here.” Except a hot, fluttering feeling deep in her core. Her sex starvation was affecting her sanity. She’d never gone this long. “I’m still good to lead the presentation.”
Intense relief spread on his face. “Good, because actually, um—”
“Next up is building permit 65873 for empty lot SCC #456183a.”
“That’s us.” Felicity took the packets from Nic and stood to move to a couple of empty seats in the front.
The fiftysomething woman with the honey balayage at the council table pointed down the table. “Now, for this, I believe one of our committee members needs to recuse himself from the decision making.”
With the exaggerated faux graciousness of a disgraced political candidate choosing to opt out of candidacy for an election they would have lost anyway, Bruce stood from the table.
He shook a few hands, in case anyone somehow didn’t know that he was the committee member with a vested interest in this permitting decision.
The woman didn’t even try to hide her eye roll behind her reading glasses.
Felicity felt an immediate urge to build a statue of her and call her Mommy.
She looked like Jennifer Beals. Felicity would have considered putting some age-gap lady love feelers out after the meeting if she hadn’t just been fantasizing that her mac (and cheese) daddy was knuckle deep in her pussy.
That wouldn’t usually have stopped Felicity, but something about the sharp way Nic had described Baldy checking her out in her dress gave her pause.
He’d been very clear that friendship was what he wanted right now, but she didn’t think it was only her sex drought that was making her annoyed about his firmness on that topic.
If only he was firm in other parts—um—ways on the topic.
Typically, proximity—particularly with men—exposed enough about who a person was and their flaws that crushes of this magnitude faded for Felicity.
She would be super into a dude, and then she would hear the weird noises he made when carrying groceries or find out his favorite “cookies” were those awful ones filled with fig mush or that he carried a small pet gerbil around in his jeans (true story). And poof, crush over. Finito. Done.
But if anything, the more time she spent with Nic, the more she thought she could deal with it if he had terrible taste in dessert and couldn’t carry a gallon of milk without sounding like a body builder. She still drew the line at pocket rodents. So far.
With a small shudder at the memory of her previous male crushes, Felicity redirected her attention to the meeting.
She would need to start their presentation soon.
City Council Mommy was reading through the specs of the permit and the proposed structure.
Of course she had that low, husky, pack-a-day voice that usually drove Felicity wild, but she couldn’t even concentrate on it—a glance at Nic had stopped her brain completely.
He was pale. His neck muscles were pulled tight, his hands balled into his lap.
“Are you sick?”
“No.”
Felicity’s expression must have called bullshit, because Nic responded as if she’d spoken aloud.
“I … I have some issues with public speaking sometimes. It’s been a while. I didn’t realize there would be a camera.”
“You look like you’re going to pass out. That camera’s for the local version of C-SPAN. It’s probably got three monthly viewers. Are you…”
“I’ll be fine.” His jaw clenched.
She placed a hand where his were twisting together. They stilled, but the rest of him was shaking. Actually shaking. He didn’t look fine. He looked fifteen miles from fine.
“Nic, why didn’t you tell me you hated public speaking?”
The smallest lift of the shoulders as if to say I dunno.
Bruce finished up his short presentation with an arrogant victory-assured grin that made something with claws inside Felicity threaten to go honey badger on the man’s face.
But she’d been through this kind of thing before.
Stupid men had never intimidated her, and like the literary goddess herself, Lizzy Bennet, Felicity’s courage rose with every attempt to intimidate her.
She braced her hands on her armrests, ready to burst up to defend the future of her aunt’s business.
“I understand we have several other people who want to speak about this permit today. First, we’re going to hear from a Toby—” City Council Mommy squinted at the page.
Felicity rolled her eyes.
“Keegan, Toby Keegan, Your Honor.”