AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Eric was vividly aware of the silence he left behind. He knew it wouldn’t last. As soon as he was safely gone, they’d talk about it. They’d theorize about what a wild woman Beth Cantrell must be. They’d talk about her store and her column. Eric shut his office door and pulled up Google, determined to find out exactly what kind of a wild woman she was.
Were there things she was into? Kinky fetishes that she liked? If so and they kept seeing each other, he was going to have to up his game. Up to this point, both of their nights together had been impromptu. Unexpected. But given time to think about it… Yeah. She’d probably expect more at some point. Thank God that little class had served him well. He’d have to hit the White Orchid website and see what was coming up next. He’d have to read her column.
Assuming there was even a chance he’d see her again. She dated other guys, obviously. Hell, she’d been on a date with someone else last night. But Eric had been the one she’d called for sex.
As for what else she might be up to…Google wasn’t helping. Nothing about a column came up when he entered Beth’s name. He tried going directly to The Rail’s website, and there it was, right on the front page. “Sexuality Personified” by Ms. White. Not a very good cover name, but the name of the column damn sure fit.
While his stomach turned flips, Eric raced through the first column. It was actually fairly tame. “Ms. White” said she’d received several letters asking about a partner’s refusal to use condoms. “If he refuses with you, then he’s refused with others. This is not okay. N-O-T. We’ve all had partners who claim not to feel anything with a condom on. Just make clear that he certainly isn’t going to feel anything with it off. Not one little thing. Better yet, walk away. And don’t let a man tell you that he can’t wear a condom because of piercings—yours or his. Genital piercings are very obviously not constructed with sharp edges. Take it from me, piercings are not a problem.”
Take it from me?
Eric glanced down at his own unadorned lap. Piercings. Did that make it…better? For her? How?
He hit the Archived button and braced himself for what he might find. Only three columns popped up, thank God. One was about transsexuality and dating, a topic which didn’t apply to Eric, obviously. One was a rather funny piece comparing men’s and women’s orgasms. It didn’t offer many personal cues, but Eric focused on one sentence intently. “A recent partner confessed that he was sure women’s orgasms were much more intense than men’s, that he’d never screamed and shaken the way I do….” So that was someone else who’d made Beth scream and shake. Of course, he knew she’d had other partners, but… Shit. His shoulders suddenly ached with tension.
The last column. Eric swallowed hard. A guide to threesomes. He didn’t even read it. He couldn’t. Whatever she did when she wasn’t with him, that was her business. He clicked away, but his mind kept turning and he opened the threesome column again. Then he closed it.
No. He didn’t want to know. She was an amazing force of sex and sensuality. That was what had attracted him. And whatever she did with other men—or women—she’d called Eric last night. She’d wanted him and no one else. All I wanted was for him to be like you.
The memory of those words filled Eric with such fierce triumph that he felt like he’d grown taller. He might be vanilla as all hell, but maybe that was
her favorite flavor. Or at least the flavor of the month. Let her go out with however many faceless bastards she wanted to, as long as Eric was the one making her come. She could be that hobby he’d been looking for. She’d sure as hell taken his mind off work for a few hours.
Eric glanced at his calendar and bit back a groan. The sales rep for the oven company was coming this morning to give them all a tutorial on working the new pizza oven. As if Eric would ever be anywhere near it.
This was just the first step. Now that the oven was in, Jamie would start bringing in chefs for interviews. Next Sunday the new dining deck would be built, and Eric was still pissed that the brewery would be closed on Monday because the front door wouldn’t be accessible.
Then they’d bring in servers, new equipment, flatware, dishes, supplies. But today was the start of it.
The truth was that Jamie had been right. Eric dreaded all of it. He’d been faking his way through it for Jamie’s sake, but what Eric really wanted to do was stop everything. He needed time to think. He needed to catch up or make new plans or…
Jesus, he wished he’d stayed in Beth’s bed instead of getting up.
Eric was still staring into space when a hard fist rapped at his door. He didn’t have to look through the small window to know it was Jamie.
“I’m coming,” Eric snapped. By the time he forced himself out of his office, Jamie and Tessa were waiting with a balding man sporting a thick mustache. Eric introduced himself, but he was distracted by his suspicion toward his siblings. Tessa stood with her arms crossed and her lips pressed tight together. Her eyes touched on Eric and then slid away.
Jamie looked dead serious, and that was hardly a natural state for him. So why was he shooting Eric such a searching look? Had Tessa told Jamie?
Eric scowled at both of them as the salesman began his well-rehearsed spiel. Jamie and Tessa got caught up in it, and within minutes, they were huddled around the oven with the sales guy. Eric listened, but he hung back, watching from a few feet away. Jamie and Tessa tried out the different vents and knobs. They opened doors and adjusted the exhaust.
Jamie grinned as the salesman made a small pile of kindling in the oven and explained that the temperature would need to be kept low for the first day, then gradually heated from there. “What kind of wood are you planning to use?” the guy asked as he checked the exhaust one more time.
“Apple,” Jamie said.
“Nice choice.” The guy drew a lighter from his pocket and set it to the kindling. And just like that, Eric’s old life was over. Flames licked at the tiny pile of wood. Donovan Brothers was no longer just an artisan brewing company. It was a brewpub.
They all stood around staring at the flames, though Eric knew he was the only one who saw the fire eating away at their life. Everyone else saw it as creation.
Finally, the salesman declared the initial lighting a success, and both of Eric’s siblings walked the guy out to the front room. Eric stared at the oven for a minute, slightly interested despite himself. He hadn’t known what to expect. The only wood-fired ovens he’d ever seen were huge brick behemoths. This oven was stone on the inside, but the outside was galvanized steel just like any commercial oven. It definitely took up too much space, but it wasn’t so obnoxious that Eric could reasonably complain about it.
Jamie walked back in, hauling a bundle of wood. “Pretty cool, huh?” he said as he laid the wood out on the floor.
Eric grunted.
“The applewood should be here this evening, but for now, we’ll warm the oven with oak.”
Eric nodded. “Good. Great.” He glanced at Jamie and found that his brother was watching him instead of the oven. That same strange, tense expression was on his face. Eric decided to meet it head-on. “What did she tell you?” he asked.
