Chapter Three
January
“Sir, this can’t go up your ass.” I wrangled the gummy dildo like an eel as I stood behind the counter of my adult boutique.
His white, broom-handle mustache twisted as he cleared his throat. I swore under his cowboy hat, his cheeks deepened to match the bright red toy in my hand.
I held it out horizontally in a demonstration. “No flared base, no trace. The muscles in your bum will suck it up. Only flared base things can be used anally.”
“It’s for my wife.” His eyes darted around the store.
“Zero judgment here, sir. I just want to make sure you or your wife don’t end up in the ER. They have my number on speed dial. I can’t be on their shit list.”
I guessed the term shit list was a bit too specific for this situation.
I popped on a bright smile. “It’s my job to educate my customers for safe usage. Can I recommend some lube and a plug?”
“Do you have something that vibrates?” he whispered.
I whispered back, “You bet. Ten different speeds. Oh, and I have a sale going for nipple clamps. Buy one nip, get the second one free!”
My joke didn’t even earn a chuckle, but that was okay. His cowboy boots clunked on the hardwood floor as I guided him over to the wall of options, launching into the rundown of what would work best. A little, triumphant warmth rushed over me when I witnessed his shoulders drop as he relaxed a little.
You see, my store wasn’t the typical sex shop. It was first and foremost a safe place for everyone to explore their sexuality, especially women. Instead of rows of bleached bimbo porn from the 90s and blow-up dolls with comically huge tits and gaping mouths, I had more tasteful options available that didn’t objectify women.
Whenever I’d gone into a sex shop in college with my friends, I’d left feeling like most of the place was geared toward the straight male gaze and experience, so when I’d opened my boutique, I’d gone out of my way to change that. I’d tried to keep it mysterious with dark plum walls, sexy music, and moody lighting. No buzzing fluorescent lights and blaring glam rock under my watch.
I also had lingerie with inclusive sizing and did my best to order toys in shades other than just pale white. As someone who didn’t exactly know their genetic makeup and heritage, I could attest to feeling weird when I didn’t see my own light tan shade represented.
Along with local art, I also sold Kaylee’s pottery. The boob mugs and butt vases were a huge hit. My newest addition was a rental studio space in the back portion of the store where people could hold events, like mixers for swingers, bachelorette parties, and tantra classes. No orgies though. I even had that listed in the rules and on a sign in the bathroom. The state of Texas would throw a hissy fit, and I was already pushing the boundaries operating this debauchery.
After I rang up the rancher, the landline chirped in the cradle.
“I can get that,” my employee Dominique offered, pushing some dark curls over his shoulder as he finished hanging up some new satin robes on a rack. He wore cobalt-blue, sequined booty shorts, pink cowgirl boots with fringe, and a white cropped shirt that stated Your Dad is my Cardio . He finished the look with disco ball earrings that reflected light on the deep bronze skin of his neck.
“No worries, I got it.” I picked up the call and forced my peppy customer service voice. “Pretty Kitty, this is Maisie. What can I help you with tonight?”
“Huh?” A man’s voice filled the other line. “Pretty Kitty?”
“Yes. Do you have the right number, sir?”
“Are you a veterinarian?”
I rolled my eyes. This happened a lot. I launched into my regular script. “No, this is a boutique in Austin. I carry local art, lingerie, and adult toys that encourage a more sensual lifestyle.”
“Explain the name to me, darlin’.”
The use of the word darlin’ rang in my memory. “Dane, you motherfucking menace! Why are you calling me at work?”
He let out a gravelly chuckle. “That was too easy. I had to pull out the big guns. I never got your number, and Kaylee won’t give it to me. You’ve blocked me everywhere else.”
“I didn’t block you. I’ve been banned from most apps.”
There was a pause for what could only be amusement. “For what?”
I sucked in a deep breath, turning to the wall to mutter, “For cyberbullying Ted Cruz.”
A bark of laughter shot out of Dane. “That’s my girl. Oh god, I forgot how funny you are. Is this a good time?”
“Time for what?” I asked, baffled.
“We have to talk, Maze.”
“Listen, don’t call me Maze or darlin’. Don’t call me your girl. And especially don’t call me at work. Don’t even perceive me, okay? For all intents and purposes, I am just a sack of warm, gooey flesh to you.”
“Oh, baby, I love it when you talk dirty like this.”
I rolled my lips into my mouth to fight a laugh while holding the phone away from my face. Gaining composure, I shot back, “Get the fucking hint, dude!”
“Get off your high horse and I will!”
“I’m not on a high horse.”
“You are. And you’re rewriting what happened to make yourself feel better. That’s pretty shitty. The wedding is coming up and we have to be a united front.”
“No, we don’t. We only have to get through a rehearsal dinner and the actual wedding day. As long as you fake a smile in the photos and leave out any low blows aimed at me in the toast, I’ll call it good.”
“Maisie . . .” he said in a chiding tone. “You’ve known Kaylee since you were teenagers, right?”
I moved the phone to my other ear, pinning it between my cheek and shoulder so I could organize the tins of edible body dust near the register. “Yeah, we bonded in high school after getting kicked out of ceramics class for trying to recreate the pottery wheel scene from the movie Ghost .”
He chuckled. “Of course, it was something like that. Well, don’t you want her to have a nice tension-free wedding day? I mean, Harley and I go back even further. He’s been a good friend through some gnarly stuff. I don’t want to ruin his day either.”
“You’re so full of it! You have a guilty conscience and you’re trying to smooth it over by weaponizing a wedding. That’s some next-level bullshit.”
“You made fun of my dead dad,” he snapped back, all forced detachment evaporating.
“You laughed at my body,” I countered.
“No—”
“Bye, darlin’ ,” I said in mockery before I smashed the button of the phone with a deep exhale.
Dominique approached the counter. “Who was that?”
“Some fucking idiot I met in Maine. We had a thing; it didn’t work.”
Dom pointed at me conspiratorially. “Listen, it was hard to eavesdrop on that call, but best believe I managed. Did I hear he laughed at your body?”
“Yeah, cute, huh?”
“What a bastard. And you have to fly back for the wedding? That’s going to be awkward as fuck.”
“Yeah, tell me about it.”
“If you need a hot date, I can find a tux.” He stuck out his tongue playfully.
I opened some of the pixie dust, tapping the poof only to dab some on his arm. “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fresh man meat?”
He ran from my attack, grabbing a flogger with black leather tassels. “You can’t blame me! I’m sick of the guys here!”
“You think they’re better in New England? Fuck no!” I chased him as he ran to the other corner of the store, the sequins sparkling on his tiny ass.
“At least let me decide for myself!” Dom hit me on the hip with a playful swat of the flogger.
I struggled to get close enough to dab him with the glittery poof again. “What do they even have in Maine?”
“Lobster?” he replied, dodging my attempt by running around a clothing rack.
“You want to fuck a lobster fisherman?” I screamed in outrage.
“Oh yeah, gurl! See what’s under those rubber waders?” He chuckled at his idea, shimmying his ass. “Have the crew bend me over the edge of the boat to see who has the best sea legs. Tell ‘em to crack me open and dip me in butter to eat instead.”
“Oh my god, you’re so deranged!” Leave it to Dom to make me laugh. If it wasn’t for him and Kaylee, I’d be depressed as hell. “Besides, I can’t take you. Who will run this place? Hmm? All these housewives need their toys. We can’t deny them.”
“Like their limp-dick husbands do, golfing every fucking opportunity and yanking it to creepy babysitter porn.”
“Damn straight.” I gestured to the wall of vibrators and dildos with the glittery poof. “Besides, who needs a man if you have these?”
Dom gave me an incredulous look, running the tassels through his hand. “I don’t know, those won’t keep your bed warm at night. And who will you fight with when you’re all saggy and I’ve moved on to be rich and famous and shit?”
“Sad and saggy. Sounds ‘bout right. You know me though. My picker is broken.”
“That sounds like a personal problem.”
I chucked the poof at him, hitting him square in the chest. “Hush!”
The truth was, I had terrible taste in men. I’d missed the boat when it came to love and marriage with probably the worst pick possible—my ex-husband Conner. He was a cowboy who’d promised to whisk me away but had only given me regret.
Considering Dane was also charming as hell, he was without a doubt a terrible choice.
I moseyed back to the counter. “For starters, I don’t want this fucker.” I glared at my phone, wondering if I should scrawl down his number from the caller ID. Blinking back the memory of his face cracking in a laugh as he hovered over me in that forest last autumn, I jammed the clear button on the call history.