Chapter 4 #2
“Hi. Maverick. Me.” I point to myself like a weirdo.
“That’s to say, I’m Maverick. My name is.
” Stop talking, Mav. “I really love that name, Blossom. It’s pretty.
And fitting.” I realize what I said, and my cheeks heat.
“I’m sorry. I’m not hitting on you. I mean, you’re really pretty, like your name.
No, sorry. No, no, you are lovely really, but… I…I’m uh…”
She looks amused, a slow smile spreading across her face at how I’m fumbling over my words. What’s wrong with me? Why can’t I string a sentence together? And I called Sawyer weird.
“I’m gay!” I shout, making some shoppers look at me like I don’t have a lick of sense, airing my sexuality for all to hear. I slap a hand on my forehead and squeeze my eyes shut. “That was loud for no reason.”
Her laughter sounds like wind chimes as she throws her head back in amusement. “It’s okay, Maverick. I’ve been known to make men nervous, no matter their sexual orientation. My nana called it charisma, but I think the kids call it aura these days.”
“Whatever it is, you have it in spades.” My damn mouth is running away from me.
“I’m sorry again. I don’t usually babble.
” I pause. “Or not make any sense when I talk.” I sigh and shake my head.
Then I point to the reason I’m here. “Are those couches still for sale? I saw that guy a few minutes ago…”
“They are. And he won’t be back.” There’s an edge to her tone that makes me shrink back slightly, but she turns a bright smile on me, and I’m sucked back into her web. “Want to have a closer look?”
“Sure. Thanks.”
We walk over to the couches, and she stands behind the love seat, running her hand over the back like she’s one of the women from The Price is Right.
“I’ve had them for a few years, but it’s time for me to upgrade.
But they’re not overly used. They were in my basement living room and I only used it when I did laundry. ”
Basement living room? Sheesh. I can’t even imagine having more than one area where I watched TV and played my video games. Even a man cave seems pretty useless to me.
“How much? I only have—” The wind blows again and my head whips toward the scent. My eyes snag on a mustard yellow recliner that’s pretty beat up but…I fucking want that recliner. It’s so beautiful. And it speaks to me, like it’s calling me to take it home and love on it.
Almost as if I’m drawn to it, my feet pull me in the direction of the piece of furniture. The closer I get, the more I see how much TLC it needs. The leather is cracked, there’s a piece of duct tape holding a part of it together, and there are scuff marks everywhere, but…this recliner is mine.
When I get within touching distance, that fragrant scent slams into me, and I sway.
My dick hardens in a flash, sticking straight out in front of me.
I lean on the backrest, trying to cover myself until the out-of-fucking-nowhere erection goes away, but being this close just makes it worse.
It’s the fucking recliner that smells like coffee, man, books, and lust.
“Fuck, Jesus,” I groan as I breathe in the scent. Never have I smelled anything so fucking good. It’s driving me fucking crazy. My brain is scrambled and all I want to do is smell this recliner until I come.
What kind of fucking thought is that? I’m in fucking public! Who comes from smelling a recliner? A recliner I’m sure has been in Blossom’s garage since like…her grandparents gave it to her or something. There’s nothing sexy or stylish about this recliner…except there is.
Not only does it smell good, but it looks far more comfortable than the couch set I was just looking at.
And even though it’s hot out, it’s cool to the touch, almost perfect body temperature.
And I don’t know, I really like the way it looks.
I’ve never thought of a recliner as beautiful, but fuck, this is one beautiful recliner.
“Enough, Cade,” Blossom says quietly and the smell fades, allowing my mind to clear enough for me to think.
I raise my head to look at her, careful to keep my still hard dick hidden.
Thankfully, it’s softening, but embarrassment creeps up my spine.
I already shouted at Blossom earlier. If she saw the state I’m in, she’ll not only think I’m weird, but some kind of sexual deviant that likes to fuck yellow recliners.
I really almost dry humped a fucking recliner because it smelled good. Who does that?
“I’m so sorry about that,” I say, my voice sounding throaty and aroused. Christ, kill me now. “I was…”
“Drawn to the recliner?” she asks, a twinkle in her eyes. I nod glumly. “I take it you’re not interested in it, though? Since you want the couches?”
“No, I want both!” Another shout, like Blossom is across a football field, not standing three feet in front of me. “I’ll work on my volume control,” I tell her, my cheeks flaming. “I want both the set and this recliner. I only have about—”
“Tell ya what,” she says, her eyes dancing with…something. Mischief? Happiness? “Give me what you have and we’ll call it square.”
“Really? For the couches and recliner?” She nods.
“I only have…” I pull the cash from my pocket and count it.
My heart plummets when I finish. “Two hundred and eighteen dollars.” That’s not enough to get a couch, loveseat, and a mustard yellow recliner that smells like heaven and makes me feel safe and wanted for some reason.
Blossom takes the cash from my hand and tucks it into her jeans pocket. “That’s good enough. Nice doing business with you, Maverick. Do you need help loading your purchases?”
I open and close my mouth a few times, not sure if this is some kind of joke or what. When I finally get my bearings, I ask, “Are you sure? The couch alone has to be worth more than what I paid for all three.”
She waves me off. “I’m sure. You seem honest. I have a good feeling about you.”
“Thanks,” I mutter, a flush drifting back up my cheeks. “I am honest. It really is all the money I have on me. If I had more—”
“I wouldn’t take it,” she interrupts. “Do you need a hand getting it on the back of the truck? I can help you with loading if you need it.”
“Umm…no. My friend Sawyer is here. He’ll help.”
She smiles and looks down at the recliner. “Go ahead and get the couches loaded up. I’ll keep the recliner safe for ya.”
I do what she says, waving Sawyer over so we can pack up the couches, using ratchet straps to keep them in place. There’s just enough room for the recliner.
Excitement bubbles through me as I look at the recliner. I’m not sure why I want it. It’s like a pull demands I take it home and cherish it and tell it it's pretty. I’ve never felt that way about an object, let alone a piece of furniture that has seen better days, but I can’t leave it behind.
Blossom sits on the recliner, her mouth moving as if speaking to it, but that can’t be right. Who talks to furniture?
Stepping beside me, Sawyer asks, “You sure you want that? It’s…not the best-looking thing I’ve ever seen.”
I elbow him. “Don’t talk about it like that. It has charm. Like something you’d see in a free spirit’s house. I love it.”
“Doesn’t match your black couch set.”
I shrug. “It’ll bring some color to the room. It’ll be fine.”
As we walk over to Blossom and my new recliner, Sawyer says, “You’ll have a lot of work to refurbish it.”
“I don’t think I will,” I muse, roaming my eyes over the torn upholstery. “I like how it looks in its natural state.”
Blossom smiles widely at me when she hears that. “I do, too. It has personality.”
“Yes! Personality. Someone understands.” I look pointedly at Sawyer, and he raises his hands in surrender.
He looks at Blossom, and blushes so red that he looks like a tomato. “Yeah…I like personality. It’s great. My favorite thing.”
I laugh and nudge him again. “Come on, Sawyer. Let’s get out of Blossom’s hair.”
The recliner is incredibly light when we pick it up. Hell, I probably could have carried it to the truck on my own.
Blossom follows us to Sawyer’s truck, a secret smile playing across her lips. Once we have it tied down, I turn around and hold my hand out to her. “Thank you!” I shout, then feel my face flush. “God, I’m sorry,” I say in a voice of normal volume. “You intimidate me.”
“I’ve heard that before,” she muses.
In almost a whisper, I say, “Thank you again for the incredible deal. I don’t know what I would have done if I went home without anywhere to sit.”
“You found me when you were meant to.” I’m sure my face is a picture of confusion. “Come back and see me in a few weeks. After you’ve…enjoyed your purchases.”
“Okay,” I murmur, my cheeks still warm. “It was great meeting you, Blossom.”
“You too, Maverick. Have fun.” She waves delicately and I smile, a warm, relaxed feeling spreading through me. We hop in the truck, and I wave once more at Blossom, almost bouncing in my seat to get my furniture home.
As we drive away, I don’t miss her sweet, melodic laughter trailing behind us.