Page 47 of Thirst For Me
“There’s a song and a smoothie for everyone,” I say sagely as I tap the order into my tablet.
Sophie hands me Kaylie’s smoothie, then goes to make Layne’s. I place the cotton candy on top with a pair of tongs, then pass it to Kaylie. “Did you see the rainbow? We have a nice little selfie moment, over there.”
She immediately asks her dad if she can borrow his phone, and when he hands it over, she zooms over to the Cutie Fruitie-branded selfie wall, the rainbow balloon arch with a purple-grape balloon cloud on one end.
“It’s on the house,” I tell Layne when he tries to pay. I lean on the counter between us and when I’m sure his daughter isn’t hearing this, add, “Consider it a keeping-the-peace offering between us mortal enemies. I wouldn’t want anyone to draw blood in front of your lovely tweenager.”
I’m not sure which part of what I just said surprises him most, but he’s definitely taken aback. “Well, thank you. But are we mortal enemies? I didn’t realize.”
“I guess your brother didn’t inform you.”
“Of what?”
“That he ordered me to stay away from his family. You’ll excuse me if I don’t come out from behind this counter. I wouldn’t want him to glimpse us fraternizing and incite a riot.”
Layne’s lips quirk. Maybe he thinks I’m kidding. “And why does my brother think you’re hisenemy?” He says this like it’s as ridiculous as it is.
I hand over his smoothie when Sophie brings it over, and Sophie makes herself scarce, cleaning up. “Oh, he was very clear,”I say. “I’m not welcome here. I should go back where I came from like a good little city girl. I stole his precious building out from under him, yada yada.”
Layne’s eyebrow creeps up. “I see. Well, Mason can be ... a little ...”
“Pig-headed?” I fill in, as he seems to be grappling for the right adjectives to somehow excuse his brother’s deplorable social skills while not totally throwing him under the bus. “Ridiculously objectionable? Outrageously wrong?”
“Sure,” he says carefully. “As most of us are from time to time? But if he’s reacting so strongly to your ... presence ...” His gaze drifts over me thoughtfully and he lowers his voice. “Maybe he’s just not used to being so ... challenged.”
I get the feeling from his tone that he thinks the particular “challenge” I present his brother is not simply of the business-rivalry variety.
Is he under the delusion that his brother actuallylikesme? This poor, sweet, misguided man. He’s so nice, the sunshine he naturally exudes seems to be blinding him to his brother’s unbridled assholery. How unfortunate.
I guess love really is blind.
I open my mouth to point this out as delicately as I can (not very) but am interrupted (perhaps fortunately) by the return of Kaylie. She’s already eaten the cotton candy and inhaled half her smoothie, and her eyes are bright with the sugar high.
“When are you coming over again?” she asks me.
“Oh. Uh. Sometime. Maybe. The shop keeps me pretty busy.”And your uncle might shoot me on sight, so.
“Oh.” She seems disappointed. “Uncle Mason keeps talking about you.”
What.
“Ah, she means, only nice things, of course,” Layne says awkwardly, draping an arm around his daughter’s shoulders and tucking her into his armpit. She whispers something to him, and he shakes his head at her:No.
And out of nowhere, I remember it. Again. My hand, reaching down into the heat of Mason’s jeans. The delight of finding his thick cock hard and ready, and wrapping my hand around it, squeezing, feeling him throb in response.
I knew I was being a tease. I told himno.
No kissing. No sex.
And now I remember his words, raspy with pleasure and the pain of holding back. Of resisting me.
You’re making this so hard for me.
That’swhat he said.
I realize as my jaw drops open and my salivary glands engage that I am desperately, aggravatingly thirsty for Mason Grant’s secrets.
And what he’s been saying about me in front of his niece.
