19. Dolly
19
DOLLY
“Hold on. Wait,” Rose says, the pep in her voice knocking down a few notches. I pause, the running water hitting the last few dirty dishes in the industrial sink at Dolly’s barely audible through my earbuds. “So we’re all supposed to go to Drafts and Dig In tomorrow and just pretend like this is any other Thursday night? Like this isn’t actually happening. Like y’all aren’t finally a couple and everything we’ve secretly hoped for isn’t coming true?”
Everything they’ve secretly hoped for? That seems like a bit of a stretch. While it’s no secret that many— many —years ago this town was all in on the Hux and Dolly forever train, that was a long time ago. That train has been clearly marked out of service. Since then, they’ve been respectful of the pact that we made and our commitment to remaining friends.
Something that may be a little more in limbo now, but that is irrelevant.
No one in this town has been secretly hoping that Hux and I would end up together. Look no further than the fact that they all showed up to my failed wedding to watch and support me marrying someone else.
Unless they were hoping for some epic objection when Reverend Terry asked if anyone has a reason why these two should not be wed.
Or was that me?
“Yes, and I know you can do it. We did it for Margeaux, pretending that she and Gus weren’t really a couple while he was acting head of her department last fall. This is no different—just a regular ol’ Thursday night at Pour Decisions.”
“This is very different. And we both know it. Gus and Margeaux aren’t Hux and Dolly.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes at the way she says that last sentence, all gossipy and half whispered. As if she isn’t sure which is the bigger scandal this town has seen—Hux and I or Gus and Margeaux. She’s on a roll today. If I didn’t know any better, I’d think she was auditioning for a spot as my great-aunt’s right hand on the rumor mill. Sighing, I shake my head, cutting off the water.
“Just no comments about us being a couple, okay?” I request.
“Fiiiine,” she acquiesces. “But don’t think I won’t be secretly shipping Duxley from the other end of the picnic table tomorrow night.”
“Duxley?”
“Yeah, it’s your celebrity couple name. Like Bennifer, but for Dolly and Huxley—Duxley. I liked it better than Holly.”
I bite down on my lip, trying not to laugh. Because I know she’s serious. And I love her for it. The fact that she—as well as our other friends—didn’t blink when I told them about Hux and me means the world. Even if they come up with things like “Duxley.”
“I think that’s enough of Pierce’s gin,” I tell her. As the marketing and sales rep for Southern Brothers Brewing, Rose is in charge of getting their products, including Milo and Brandt’s beers and All Snowed Gin, her stockbroker fiancé’s side gig, into stores, restaurants, and bars. Meaning she has plenty of access to the stock. Not that she takes advantage. “Or did you get into Brandt’s secret moonshine stash? Either way, go home. You’re drunk.”
“Neither, but…”
Rose’s words fade into the background, my attention hijacked by the sound of the front door closing. My pulse jumps, my mind rushing to remember if I locked it after the last person left earlier. I did. I know I did.
My last lunch customers were a couple I didn’t recognize, who told me they were passing through while visiting some old friends in the area. While we do get those who are passing through, often because they are on some detour from the highway or flat-out got lost, it’s not a common occurrence. Especially not on a weekday. So I made sure to double-check the locks as I flipped the closed sign and lowered the window shades.
“Gotta run,” I tell my girlfriend, not bothering with any more of an explanation.
Tapping my earbud to end the call, I remove it from my ear, then cautiously poke my head around to peer through the kitchen’s pass-through window to see out into the dining area. My heart is still galloping, slamming against my rib cage as my eyes land on my intruder, if we can call him that since he used his key, but my muscles relax, relieved that it’s only him.
“Don’t worry, I locked it,” Hux tells me with a halfhearted smirk tugging at one corner of his mouth and a succinct nod.
I wasn’t worried about that. Never am. Hux treats this place like it’s his own. I am more than a little worried about that look on his face though. Something is wrong.
Hux crosses the dining room in no time flat—faster than I can make it out of the kitchen—greeting me at the edge of the counter. There’s no time for words, his hands on my ass lifting me in the air and into him faster than I think to even say his name.
Capturing my mouth in his, Hux kisses me like his life depends on it. Like he needs my kiss more than oxygen. Fingers dig into me through the fabric of my jeans, while his strong lips let me know that he’s in charge. That this is him showing me how much he cares. I whimper, grasping onto his shirt, trying to return his efforts. To let him know that this is a two-way street.
Until he ups the ante. Finding his tongue with mine, he holds on tighter, moving his hips against my core. Or maybe he moves me against him. I have no idea how he does it—all I know is that it sends lightning through my veins and makes the entire world fall away. Nothing else matters. Nothing else exists. And never— ever —has anyone been more cherished. Each new kiss from him makes sure that I know that, and it makes me want to spend the rest of my life kissing this man.
My man.
“Sorry,” he says gruffly, pulling back only enough to rest his forehead against mine. He doesn’t let go, still holding on to me like a small child holds a giant stuffed animal they won at the fair, readjusting so that I don’t fall.
“You never have to be sorry for kissing me like that.” I giggle, trying to be coy.
“That’s how you always deserve to be kissed, Doll.” He presses his lips gently to mine, a chaster version of before, but no less heartfelt. “Fucked on the other hand…”
He thrusts up again, a full-on Hux smirk coming out, and I groan, both from the comment and from the contact with my core. Kissing me again, he loosens his grip, and I slide down his body, a little more amped up and ready to go than I should be for someone who is still at work.
But something I have learned about Hux since we started down this road is that’s his specialty. Making me feel cherished and adored one second, and then hot to trot the next.
Huxley Hayes, y’all…gentleman in the streets, ruiner of bed sheets…
Wrapping my arms around him, I rest my head against his chest, listening to his heartbeat for a moment before squeezing. Tough, strong, and steady, that thump…thump…thump is music to my ears, but it doesn’t change that I can tell something is bothering him.
“Wanna tell me about it?” I ask, keeping my head against his chest.
He chuckles, the rumble of laughter making his chest vibrate and my heart skip a beat.
“That obvious?”
“Only to the woman in your life.” I pull back, looking up at him. “Sit, I’ll make you a plate.”
He does as he’s told, and I scurry into the kitchen, turning the broiler on. I let it warm up, fixing up a dish of cucumber salad before cutting into my latest tester recipe and slipping it under the broiler to crisp up.
“Here, eat.” I slide the plate in front of him, anticipation rising in me. “And here’s hoping you like it, because it’s also supposed to be dinner at the cottage tonight with Gus, Margeaux, and Jace. Although if you tell me it sucks, I’ll have to figure something else out.”
“You made it, so I know it doesn’t suck,” he says, digging in.
I watch him with bated breath, time slowing down to a crawl as I wait for a reaction. And I do mean crawling. Snails have lapped us. The tortoise has taken on the role of the hare, wondering when we’re going to catch up, and I swear I just saw molasses rush by us. The only way it could be moving slower is if it stopped.
“Holy shit,” Hux exclaims, mouth already full, but shoving another bite in with it. “It’s like a Reuben, but…”
“It’s a Reuben bake,” I explain, cutting him off. Something he doesn’t seem to take issue with since it gives him a chance to keep eating. “I found a recipe online and modified it a bit, since I’ll need to make it ahead of time and reheat sections as needed. Either that or invest in mini pans, but at thirty minutes of baking time, I don’t see that going over well.”
“This is going on the new menu, right?”
“That’s my thought. The Reuben sandwich is one of the few I’ll keep. That along with the club and maybe the patty melt.”
“Auggie will have a fit if you get rid of the patty melt.”
I slump against the counter, leaning forward on my forearms. If Hux thinks that I haven’t wrestled with major guilt over the idea of eliminating one of his father’s favorite menu items, then he doesn’t know me. “I am aware, but he’s literally the only person who ever orders one. I’d be better off running to Wright’s and buying a package of ground beef every time he wants one than keeping it on the menu just because.”
“Then off it goes.”
I smile, loving how Hux doesn’t think twice. He might as well be the Red Queen in Alice in Wonderland shouting “off with her head!” for all the consideration he takes in chopping the item off the menu.
“I can always bring it back as a lunch special here and there,” I offer.
Hux shrugs. “Make them some time for Sunday dinner, and you’ll easily be his favorite dau?—”
Hux stops himself, shoving another large bite in his mouth. There’s no question what he was about to say. The question is whether or not I acknowledge it or not. Funny enough, even though he stopped himself from saying it out loud, it doesn’t feel as weird as part of me thinks it should. Maybe because I’ve been around the Hayes family for so long and have attended Sunday dinner as Hux’s best friend. Attending as plus one would be different though.
“I dunno,” I say, leaning into the moment. “I’d have to compete with Margeaux’s maque choux. And that’s a Papa Duck recipe…”
Hux narrows his eyes at me, like he’s thinking, debating whether or not my patty melt can compete with the Cajun classic prepared by the granddaughter of a legend. Well, a legend according to me. Having been featured on Diners, Drive-Ins and Dives , Margeaux’s grandfather’s little New Orleans hole-in-the-wall eatery—as he proudly refers to it—became a hot spot, Papa Duck himself stealing everyone’s hearts. Including mine, resulting in a weekend road trip where Hux took me to New Orleans to see if they would be willing to trade recipes. I was turned down when I got there—by who we know now to be Margeaux’s brother—but a couple of years later when Margeaux showed up in Hickory Hills and started working for Hayes, I got my wish and got to collaborate with Papa Duck.
“Next time we need something, that’s the meal we’re making him. Patty melt with a side of maque choux. He’ll be putty in our hands.”
I’m skeptical, not sure that serving the man his favorites will really get the boys what they want. Especially since I’m pretty sure that the only hand Auggie Hayes has ever been putty in is Miss Belle’s.
“What’s got you all twisted?” I ask, changing the subject.
Hux deflates, letting out a long exhale that makes his bottom lip flap like a horse neighing its displeasure. Oh boy…
“The town council vetoed my project.”
“What?”
I shoot back up, a mixture of shock and adrenaline rushing through me. How is that not the big scandal in town? The town council voting down a Hayes project is unheard of.
“Yup.”
“The two star one?”
“Project: Second Star, yes. Said it wasn’t a good use of town funds.”
I place my hands wide against the counter, leaning forward and making eye contact with Hux. His beautiful hazel eyes reflect back so much, including that he really is twisted up about this.
“Just what were you looking to do that even required town money?”
Shifting uncomfortably in his seat, he takes a big gulp of water. “It’s still not public information…”
For fuck’s safe…
“Hux, we don’t keep things from each other.”
“Really?” he shoots back, giving me an incredulous look. “Says the woman who didn’t tell me that she was no longer in love with the man she was about to marry. Who kept the fact that she wasn’t heartbroken when he left her.”
Okay, fair point…
“This isn’t about me,” I dismiss, waving him off. He half laughs under his breath, and I’m thankful for the millionth time that he’s willing to forgive me for holding on to that secret. “I’m just trying to figure out what on earth Hayes could be doing that requires town funds.”
“Land. I’m trying to…do this thing…and while we can fund it—hell, I can and will pay for it out of my own fucking pocket—I need a place to put it. And that’s where the town comes in. I need town approval and apparently that means a portion has to be funded by the town and fucking Seth Jennings doesn’t think it’s a good idea!”
His fist lands on the counter, hard enough to rattle the plate and silverware, overtaking the loudness of his voice. My insides ache, wishing I had an answer. For Hux to get this worked up, to raise his voice, this has to be something he feels deeply about. Too bad I’m all out of magic answers.
Except, did he say…
“Seth Jennings? What the hell does he have to do with anything?” I ask, hoping my question isn’t too insensitive.
“He’s apparently on the council.” I nod, letting him know that I knew that fact, and am not surprised he didn’t. Hux is good at the midlevel details. He’ll remember Bronwyn prefers tea over coffee, but never knows what kind. Or that Ewan loves flavored creamer, but remembering that it’s hazelnut is asking too much. So him even knowing who is on the council is impressive. “And the one holdout on my vote.”
“How do you know he’s the holdout? Those votes are?—”
“Don’t ask me how I know. But I do. And since I can’t remember the last time I talked to him, I have no idea how to even begin to convince him that this project needs to happen.”
I can hear the desperation in his voice. A strain that only comes from deep inside. It makes my heart call out to him, wanting him to know that I’m here. I can fix this.
I think.
Reaching across the counter, I take his hand, lacing our fingers together. “What would you say if I told you I know how to fix this?”
One eyebrow quirks up at me, silently telling me to continue.
“I don’t know what you have up your sleeve, Huxley Hayes, but I do know that I trust you. And if you say something needs to happen, then it needs to happen. And I might not have the kind of weight to throw around that Hayes Industries does, buuuuut…I do happen to be where the local plumber gets his cinnamon roll on Fridays before heading into Tifton. And those cinnamon rolls might just become unavailable…”
“Pretty sure that’s extortion.”
I shrug. “As a business owner, I have the right to refuse service to anyone for any reason. Also, it’s a small town. Whatcha gonna do?”
“Dolly…”
Hux pushes up from his seat, rounding the corner of the counter and slipping behind it until he’s next to me. The heat radiating off him is calling to me, and I fight the urge to snuggle into him. To get lost in the feel of his arms and his distinct scent.
“Let me try,” I say. “It’s exactly what you would do for me. Let me do it for you.”
Hux grunts, wrapping an arm around me, and in a single swift move has me up on the counter. I have no idea how he managed it, only that we’re eye to eye as he leans down, a hand on either side of me, my insides quivering with excitement.
“I don’t want you getting into trouble over this.”
“Pssh! What’s life without a little trouble?” I joke. “I vowed a long time ago not to age with grace, but with mischief, audacity, and a good story to tell at the end. You know that. This is me getting back to my promise.”
Leaning in, Hux nips at my ear. I shiver, the light graze of his teeth on my sensitive skin both too much and not enough. I want more.
“Are you telling me you want to get up to no good?” he whispers.
“Always.”
That’s all the permission Hux needs, capturing my mouth in a hot, punishing kiss. One that I get lost in too easily. My hands grasp at his side, slipping up under his tee. Hot skin greets my fingertips, as I run them along the ridges of his muscles, wanting so much to feel him against me. To feel him.
“Lift.”
His command catches me off guard, pulling me out of the moment and away from him. His hazel eyes have gone dark, holding me in place, and I swallow hard, frozen as a wave of lust crashes into me.
“Lift,” he repeats, tapping my hip.
I look down, realizing that he’s undone my jeans. I lift up, licking my lips as he yanks my jeans and panties down in a single move. Coolness hits my backside as I lower myself again, but I don’t care—I’m too transfixed on the man currently lowering himself between my legs, spreading them.
Sucking in a breath, the need to feel self-conscious flits across my brain. But it’s shut down as fast as it appears. Because even like this, naked from the waist down, spread wide and on display on my own service counter, there’s no need for that. Not when Hux is looking at me like I’m the main course.
“Fuck…this beautiful pussy…”
Dragging a single finger through my wetness, Hux lazily circles my clit, avoiding direct contact. I suck in a breath, the initial contact so amazing it’s making me crave more. He does it again, still avoiding my clit, but this time slipping his finger inside me for a split second before pulling it out and lifting it to his mouth.
“So sweet,” he mutters, sucking me off himself. “Almost as good as those cinnamon rolls. Almost. Think I need a taste straight from the source.”
Slowly, deliberately, he runs his tongue up my pussy from entrance to clit, this time not avoiding the bundle of nerves calling his name.
“Hux!”
I scream, my head flying backward and eyes flying shut. Forget hot to trot, I’m now at an all-out run, my desire turned up to eleven, needing nothing more than to come. Hux knows it too.
He repeats his move, this time pausing at my entrance, toying with me, lapping up as much of me as he can. Heaven above, I can’t take much more.
I whimper, unable to do much else. I need to come. I need that release. Turning his focus to my clit, Hux nibbles and sucks, knowing exactly what I want. Exactly what is going to get me there. I fall backward, my vision going hazy as he slides two fingers into me, tapping at my G-spot. And that’s it. I’m soaring.
My hands fly to the back of his head, fingers weaving into his hair, and I lose control. I scream, or at least I try, holding on to him for dear life as he doubles down, fluttering his tongue against me, humming, and sending vibrations straight to my soul. Fireworks explode behind my eyes, wave after wave of sheer intensity streaming through me.
All on my lunch counter.
Grasping at Hux, I yank up my body, allowing him to pull us upright. I kiss him harder—maybe harder than I ever have—ready to return the favor.
“You’re gonna pay for that,” I tell him, my very empty threat sounding almost humorous.
“You think so, huh?” he counters.
“I do.”
I reach for his pants, but he stops me, grabbing my wrist. Shaking his head, he presses a kiss to my palm, then to my forehead.
“I’ve got a meeting I have to get to. But hold on to that thought, beautiful. I’ll see you at dinner, and then…you’re going to be dessert.”
Another shudder rips through me. If I thought I was ready to go, well…fuck.
“So you’re just going to leave me here like this, all wanton and wet?”
Eyeing me up and down, he smirks. “Such a pretty sight.”
Slipping his fingers inside me again, he kisses me and swallows my whimper as he removes them just as quickly. Fucking tease.
“One for the road,” he tells me, holding up his hand and then licking his fingers.
Fuck me…
“Troublemaker!” I call out, leaning backward to watch him walk away.
“It’s why you love me.”
It is…