My feet carry me to the bakery, the sweet smell luring my senses. If Greyson knew my addiction to sweets, he might re-think me being his woman. As it is now, he’s mine as much as I’m his. I’m perusing the desserts, trying to find the exact one I want. There are cupcakes, half-size cakes, but who wants something small when everyone knows leftover cake is the best? I finally find a round cake, the biggest size they have. It’s also when I notice a blonde woman, head bent, trying to cover her face, the shoulders quaking telling me a completely different story. I smell man problems. Ugh. This girl is much too pretty to be crying over a man.
There’s no way I can walk away from her. Doing what she’ll probably least expect, I put my basket on the ground, move closer to her, place my hand on her arm, so I don’t startle her, and say, “Are you okay?” She lifts her head. The prettiest blue eyes peek up at me. This girl is so pretty, even though she’s using her hair to shield the side of her face, but that’s not what I’m after.
“Yeah, I’ll be okay.” She tries to shut the conversation down, but I’m like a dog with a bone. Plus, I’m new to town, and it looks like I’ll be planting some kind of roots here. Friends would be a definite plus, that’s for sure.
“I’m Serenity, new to town, my vintage Airstream got ripped to shreds by some yahoo on the highway, and now I’m here, well, for a while. What’s your name?” I hold my hand out now that I’ve not scared the crap out of her by touching her arm.
“I’m Mazie. Did you say you have a vintage Airstream?” That perks her up and out of whatever was bothering her.
“It’s nice to meet you, and yeah. Well, right now, it’s dinged up, but Greyson Reid is working on it.” I see her eye my basket on the floor. A slow smile appears on her face.
“I love them. I have a retro-style camper at my house. You chose the best dessert too.” She nods at my choice that’s sitting on the floor.
“We were destined to be friends. Now, care to tell me more about Spring, Florida? I’m noticing there are more men than women by a long shot, and we definitely need to talk about that.” I wiggle my eyebrows, causing us both to laugh. We chat about the lack of women in town, how she likes this new guy, but he isn’t giving her the time of day, and we joke about what to do about that little fiasco. Mazie tells me that Greyson is a stand-up guy and always has been. Though he’s almost a recluse, unless it comes to work. Then we exchange numbers and promise to get together in the next couple of days. I grab my basket, she grabs her groceries, and we continue our stroll to the check-out lane. It’s then that I notice the packaging on the cake I picked up. She’s a sneaky little thing, but I’m going to let this play out. That doesn’t mean I won’t be gobbling up more of Mazie’s desserts, especially by the looks of the one I just picked up, guaranteed I’ll be buying stock in cake.
Eleven
Greyson
“Honey, I’m home,” I joke as I walk through the door. I could smell dinner the minute I stepped inside. I’m just hoping the news today brought won’t disappoint Serenity too much.
“Hey, handsome.” I can hear the sizzling and snap of dinner and what smells like meat searing in the background. She doesn’t come to me like I hoped, but she is cooking, so this time I’ll be going to her. Though I’ll be letting it be known just how I want her in my arms the moment she’s back in my sights.
“Dinner smells good. Not as good as you though.” I make my way towards her, wrapping my arms around her waist. She sinks into my body.
“I highly doubt that. You haven’t tasted dinner yet.” Serenity turns her head to the side, reaches up, and kisses my lips.
“I know what you taste like, smell like, and feel like. Better than any fucking thing I’ve ever eaten before,” I groan, my cock already thickening at feeling her ass press against it.
“Dinner and dessert first, then it’s my turn to taste you. Someone was greedy and wouldn’t let me play,” she pouts. Damn, that’s something I will be letting happen tonight.
“Tonight is yours, but first we gotta talk.” I watch as Serenity turns the stove off, moving the food to the back burner.
“That sounds ominous.” My hands are still holding her waist, but she’s facing me now. The hair on top of her head is messy and sliding out of its bun, there’s not a stitch of makeup on her face, and she looks at home. She’s in one of my shirts, much like this morning, though this time, she’s wearing some kind of sweats and is barefoot. And what I wouldn’t give to see her like this pregnant. Fuck, I’ve got to rein my shit in, or she’ll run for the fucking hills.