Page 21 of Sparks Fly
"Are you working tomorrow?" she asks, and her voice is almost back to normal.
"No." I shake my head. "I've got two days off."
She tucks her hair back behind one ear, and there's something deliberate in the way she says the next part. "I'm off too. And school's out tomorrow. The Ice Cream Social is happening tomorrow." She pauses, a question in her voice as she says the next words. "Cora loves it."
I look at her, blinking away the arousal so I can pay attention to her. "Are you asking me to come?"
She meets my eyes, hers full of fear. Maybe it’s the fear I’ll say no. "Do you want to come with us?"
"Yes," I say, without hesitation. "What time?"
"Eleven? We’ll be downtown by the pavilion."
"Then I'll be there."
She walks me to the front door a few minutes later, and I take one last look at her standing in the warm light of her doorway before I make myself turn and walk to my truck. I wait until I'm down the street before I let out a long, slow breath.
The drive home is quiet. The town is mostly settled down for the night, just the occasional porch light and the yellow glow of the gas station on the corner. I've driven this route a hundred times without thinking about it.
Tonight I'm thinking about her.
By the time I get home and lock the door behind me, I already know I'm not going to sleep for a while. I drop my keys on the counter and press both hands against it, staring at the surface, replaying the evening in pieces. Cora's face when she saw the flowers. The way Trish looked at me through the kitchen pass-through while her daughter spun me around the living room. The weight of Trish in my hands in the dark, the sound she made when I pulled her close.
I push off the counter and head down the hall before taking a right into my bathroom. I crank on the water, and take off my clothes before stepping in and gripping my still hard cock. With a groan, I pump the length, and pull my bottom lip in between my teeth as I jack off to the memory of what she felt like on top of me.
Chapter Eleven
Trish
"Are you sure you want to wear the tutu?" I question Cora as we get ready for the Ice Cream Social.
"Yes, it's my favorite, and I want to show Mark. He brought me all those colorful flowers last night, and I want him to see how much I love color." She's putting on her shoes, a pair of orange Converse, and I've already got her hair in a braid. She's always the cutest kid I've ever seen, but today she's even more cute.
"Alright, we're out of here in a few minutes, okay, kiddo?"
She nods, having a seat on the couch as she waits for me to get ready. I've decided on a pair of shorts today, and I hope they aren't too short, but at the same time I want to show off what I've got.
Reaching into my back pocket, I grab my phone, and shoot off a text to Mark.
Me: We're heading out. See you in a few minutes.
Mark: I'm already here. I'll be waiting on ya.
Mark is not kidding about already being there.
I spot him the second we turn the corner onto Main Street, standing near the pavilion entrance with his hands in the pockets of his jeans, wearing a grey t-shirt that fits him in a way that makes my mouth water. He's scanning the crowd, and the moment his eyes land on us, his whole face changes.
He raises a hand in a wave, and Cora takes off at a dead sprint toward him, tutu bouncing, orange Converse slapping the pavement.
"Mark! Look at my outfit!"
He catches her when she reaches him, swinging her up slightly before setting her back on her feet, and he crouches down to give the tutu a full examination. "That," he says seriously, "is the best outfit I've seen all year."
She beams as she smiles at him. "I wore it because you brought me colorful flowers."
"It matches perfectly." He stands as I reach them, and his eyes move over me once, unhurried, and I feel it from my collarbone to my knees. "Hey."
"Hey yourself." I adjust my sunglasses. "You're early."
