Chapter Nineteen #2
She leans against the counter, and something about having her in my kitchen feels right. “Wilma and Faye are going to be cleaning flour out of this kitchen until next Valentine’s Day.”
“I think you’re to blame for that.” My thumb wipes a smudge of white dust from her cheek, but it’s not the only spot.
It’s dusted through her hair, pressed into the fabric of her clothes
She smirks. “Maybe I should grab the broom.”
We clean together, and I like this too. The closeness, the shared laughter, the easy way we fall into step, and how conversation flows without thinking.
When we’re done, she glances at the clock. “What now?”
I check it too, just after four.
“Nothing scheduled,” I say. “Couple of hours free before supper prep.”
She smiles slowly. “That might be my favourite thing you’ve said all day.”
We step outside. It’s mild with a hint of damp in the air.
The backyard is alive with activity. Wilma and Faye direct a couple of guys setting up fire pits and tables for tonight’s fireside class.
“Do you need a hand?” I ask.
“Absolutely not.” Faye shoos us off the stairs with a little push. “You two go explore. We’ve got this.”
Shay glances up at me. “She’s clearly rooting for us.”
“Rooting or meddling?”
“Is there a difference?”
I shake my head as I slip my hand in hers. “They’d say it’s fate.”
“Yes, they would.”
We wander down a narrow stone path that winds through the property’s gardens. The B&B’s backyard is like a secret maze: hedges trimmed into winding corridors, flower beds with tiny hidden signs, and little gazebos tucked around corners.
“This is beautiful.” She ducks under a low trellis draped in vines.
Ivy brushes her shoulders as she steps through. Her camera swings lightly against her chest. She tilts it up, scanning the garden for shots, and forgets me momentarily.
I don’t mind. I lean against a tree and watch.
She crouches low, snapping the fountain as sunlight splashes off the water. She steps closer, framing the stone path with the hedges curling around us.
I watch the subtle tilt of the camera pointing my way.
“Don’t you dare,” I mutter, grinning as I step around a flower bed.
Click.
She tilts the camera, catching my hands brushing against hers, the faint smudge of flour on my thumb, and the shudder snaps again.
When we reach the far end of the backyard, a hammock hangs between two sturdy trees.
“This backyard does not disappoint.” She motions. “You first.”
“Alright.” I ease myself onto the hammock.
The canvas stretches beneath me and sways lightly under my weight.
She crouches beside me, camera raised.
“I want you in here with me,” I growl.
She smirks and slides in beside me. I shift back slightly to give her room.
“We could get in trouble out here.” She rests her hands on my torso, fingertips pressing lightly against my ribs.
I glance at her, sliding her hair away from her face. “I’d take that risk.”
I kiss her. Slow. Gentle. Long.
We don’t go any further, but the next two hours swinging together feel like time itself has slowed. And I’m disappointed when it’s time to adult again. Before I know it, I’m tying an apron around my waist, and the ladies trickle into the kitchen.
The lesson begins, and I move through the motions.
Round two, and my eyes keep finding her. Every tilt of her head, every subtle smile, pulls me in.
At one point, I see her reach for a blade.
“Careful with that knife,” I say automatically.
She smirks. “Always careful.”
I shake my head, smiling. “Not nearly enough.”
And I’m thinking of all the moments this weekend we’ve gambled on. Daring each other.
Teasing in public.
Not getting caught.
The lesson concludes, and the dining room fills up. I always aim not to take the center stage here. It’s about connection, and letting the women connect.
I’m grateful when I first feel Shay’s knee bump mine.
It’s slight—a brush. Electric.
I keep my eyes on my plate as her foot finds mine. Then she’s closer and her ankle hooks around my leg, staying there, warmth against me, making me aware of everything.
“Nine o’clock feels so far away.” Jaclyn drops her napkin on her plate.
“What’s at nine?” Shay’s hand lands on my lap.
Her fingers curl around my thigh.
So fucking close to my cock.
“Our Valentine's event.” Jaclyn picks up her wine, pausing before she takes a sip. “It’s the highlight.”
Her fingers inch ever so slightly to my inner thigh, and I feel everything I’ve been holding back snap. My cock twitches against my restraint, and I lose my fight to stay composed.
I stand. Probably too abruptly.
“Ohh, that’s the fire pits out back.” Shay grins up at me.
“We’re making sugar and spice love bites.” I start stacking plates.
Anything to distract myself from my hard-on. I circle the table until my hands are full, then drop them off in the kitchen. I take a second to breathe, clutching the edge of the counter.
I’ve never reacted this way to a woman. I’m not even sure what it is.
The doors swing shut behind me when I re-enter and continue collecting plates.
“What are you wearing?” Jaclyn asks Shay.
“I haven’t given it a thought. Maybe jeans and—.”
Jaclyn waves her hands. “It’s formal.”
I pause, plate in hand. Shit. I didn’t tell her. I hadn’t even thought about it. I’ve been so absorbed with her.
“Black tie,” Zoe adds.
“Think gowns,” Zara says.
“Gowns?” Shay’s eyebrows knit together.
Laughter bubbles from the table.
“The Valentine’s Day theme was highly debated,” Jaclyn says. “Divorced, Not Dead.”
“Love is Canceled.” Zoe sets her fork down.
“Single, Selective, and Satisfied,” Zara adds.
“Burn the Rulebook.” Nettie winks at me.
I hear you, Nettie. You want to toss away our age gap and get naked.
Shay smiles, confused. “Those are your Valentine's Day themes?”
“Sweetie.” Jaclyn squeezes her arm. “This is an anti-Valentine’s Day event.”
“Oh.” Her mouth forms a perfect circle.
“Happily never after and choosing fairytale dresses but in black.”
“Better off brilliant.”
“Once burned, but well dressed.”
Jaclyn points at one of the women. “That was mine.”
The woman smiles. “I know. It was perfect.”
Shay’s eyes skate to mine. She’s cursing me out with a glance. I’m hosting an anti-Valentine’s and falling for her.
My insides stop.
Falling for her? No. This is a fling. Nothing more than a fling.
“We chose Chapter Two Club.” Jaclyn passes me her plate. “Modern cocktail dresses. Satin. Crepe. Minimalist silhouettes. Anything like that’ll work?”
Shay shakes her head. “I didn’t bring anything like that.”
“We have dresses.” Jaclyn pushes her chair back.
“Several.” Zoe finishes her wine and rises. “You’re not missing this.”
Before Shay can object, hands are on her arms, pulling her up.
“Come on.” Jaclyn loops her arm in hers. “We’ll find you something that’ll impress.” She winks at me. “After all, it is Valentine’s.”
They guide her away, laughing as they disappear down the hall.
She shoots me a look over her shoulder. It’s not angry or anxious. She tries to glare, but the smile she can’t hide gives her away.
“Who would’ve thought you’d fall in love over an anti-Valentine’s Day event?” Faye takes the dishes from me.
I’m not in love.
“Fate did.” Wilma collects glasses. “Fate knew the second you arrived.”
They don't know what they’re talking about.
The argument doesn’t last long because that bloody black-haired dog is growling not a foot away from me.
“Come on, man. I got no beef with you.”
It lunges.