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Then I roll my hips against her belly so she can feel my hard cock. When I lift my head up so I can stare down at her, I see the want in her caramel brown eyes. When I tug on her hair, she tilts her head up to me, her mouth open for mine. And I dive back down and kiss her again, shoving my tongue in her mouth before I try to put anything else in there.
Lily’s hands slide down to my chest. Rubbing over my nipples, exploring my pecs, my abs. When she reaches for my belt buckle, I press my hands down on top of hers. If I fuck her in the bathroom at the diner at ten o’clock on a Wednesday morning, the entire town is going to know about it by noon.
“Hold on, Lemon. You don’t even know how much I want you to keep going, but I can’t fuck you again here at the diner.”
She juts her chin out at me, her eyes fiery. “Who says I want you to fuck me again?”
A slow smile creeps across my face. “Your hands on my belt buckle? The way you just tried to devour me with that pretty mouth? Or the way your eyes are begging me to give you my dick? All of the above.”
She looks pissed, gloriously fucking pissed at me. Red cheeks, messy blonde hair, bright shiny brown eyes, and lips puffy from kissing me. “You’re so full of it. Enjoy jerking off in the diner bathroom, kid.”
I let her walk away from me until she’s just about to disappear into the women’s washroom.
“Missing anything this morning, Lemon? I heard there were some thieves passing through town. Stealing dirty laundry right out from under people. Anything like that happen to you this morning?”
Her jaw drops open, and it takes every single piece of strength and willpower in me not to run over there, push her down to her knees, and slide my hard dick into that pretty little mouth.
“You stole my underwear?” She whispers so quietly that I almost have to read her lips.
“Yup.” Then I leave her staring as I stroll right on past her into the men’s washroom.
Where I spend the next five minutes willing my dick to go down.
As much as I pissed Lily off by telling her I stole her panties, I’m not sure I came out of this one on top.
Because I didn’t come on top of her.
chapter ten
lily
When I step out of Ladycakes Bakery & Cafe with an extra-large iced rosemary brown sugar oat latte in one hand and an almond croissant in the other, I’m thinking of everything I need to do this afternoon. I’ve already delivered flowers to the hospital and checked on the Singh’s cats, walked the Bensons’ chocolate labs, and started on Georgina Lum’s new front garden bed. But I still need to tend to my greenhouse, harvest the mint and rosemary for a new batch of conditioner, whip up some salt spray, and make more brown sugar and cinnamon body wash and exfoliating scrub for myself and a few regular clients. I’m so distracted thinking about everything I still need to do today as I walk back to my little blue pickup that I almost miss it.
There’s a closing sign in the window of the old thrift store on the corner of the block right next to Ladycakes. No. It can’t be. Walking so close that my face is inches from the paned glass door, I stare at the sign.
Closing for Well-earned Retirement!
After serving the Western Springs community for nearly thirty-five years, Jessie and Robert Hall are finally retiring.
Thank you for the memories, Western Springs!
The Halls are getting up there, so it’s not a complete surprise that they’re closing up the shop. But that means this shop will be vacant for the first time in almost forty years. That means it’s going to need a new business.
And that means I can finally open the half-florist-half-botanical-body-products shop of my dreams. This girl didn’t grow up watching Practical Magic every weekend for nothing. I’ve been making body lotions and conditioners and bar soap in my kitchen and selling them to locals with no actual plan for long enough. Could I could really do it now? Could I really have a store with a big sign on the front saying Lily’s Flowers & Botanicals, like I’ve always dreamed?
Other locations would probably do. But this exact store is the one I’ve always pictured having my shop in. It used to be an apothecary shop, according to the pictures at the local museum. Which is really just an old house at the other end of town, full of photos and old artifacts. Two of the bedrooms are made up to look like how they would have at the turn of the last century. Well, the one before last, I guess.
This is the shop. It’s on the corner of the block. And it’s long and narrow. But on the side, there’s a glass-windowed conservatory room my plants would absolutely love. The thrift store uses the space for old VHS tapes and books.
I wonder if it’s for sale or for rent? I have some money saved up, but not enough for a real down payment to buy a piece of prime Western Springs retail space, right on Grove Street. And if someone snatches it up before me, I’ll be lucky if it becomes vacant in another forty years.
Maybe I’m single at thirty-two with no real relationship prospects, but it would be nice if at least one part of my life was heading in the right direction. TumbleWed Mike is not an option. Gunnar is not an option. Jameson is definitely not an option. And I will never be kissing him again in the diner like I did yesterday morning. But I could finally have the shop I’ve always wanted. Maybe eventually I could stop doing all the random odd jobs I do now and have a proper business?
Other than the closing notice, there’s nothing else on the door or windows. No for sale sign. No for lease sign. Jacks bought the bakery next door for Selena. I remember because she was super pissed that he did it without telling her. But I don’t know who owns the rest of the units on this block. I’ve never really thought about it. Until Selena opened Ladycakes next door where the old bakery used to be, not much has changed in downtown Western Springs for as long as I can remember.
All the stores here have either been what they are now for ages or the old businesses have closed and the spaces have been left empty. The movie theater at the other end of the block only runs once a week on Saturday nights, and the shows are put on by volunteers. Admission is by donation to the hospital. The bakery was closed down for a good four years before Selena took it over.
How would I even find out who owns the other units in this building? The thrift store is right next to Selena’s bakery, so she must have some idea. Selena and Jacks are in L.A. right now, and I miss them so much. I like it better when they’re home in Western Springs where they belong. Until they’re here, I’ll have to just keep Jacks updated with incessant texts about all the things he’s missing out on. But I’d still be doing that even if he was here. I text Jacks about a million times a day about everything and nothing.
