Page 6 of Roses for Rosie

I just propositioned the man who wrote the book which topped our sales charts last month. I jeopardized the chances that he would come here to give a reading. This event has the potential to pull customers from miles around, to attract people who have never been in Nooks and Books before, to sell tons of books. Instead of running it with the steady hand she has come to expect from me, I mucked the whole thing up before it even got started.

“I’m so sorry, Vivian,” I say, looking shyly at her.

“For the tenth time, Rosie, we all make mistakes.”

“I know, but I just feel terrible.”

“Instead of looking backward and regretting what happened, maybe we could start looking forward and doing what needs to be done to make this event a success.”

“You know I’m on top of it, Vivian. I won’t mess up again. This is going to be the biggest, best event Nooks and Books has ever seen,” I promise, eager to redeem myself.

“I know I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Susie chimes in. “I want to study that fine specimen of a man in person. I hope they haven’t photoshopped him too much in his picture. That would pour a big bucket of ice water on my best fantasies.”

“It isn’t every day Jamesville sees a big star like Adam Smythe. You can count me in,” Joanne adds with a little sigh of longing.

I feel for Joanne. Her days of hot dates and steamy nights fizzled when she was still a teenager. Getting pregnant by a college guy floating through town for the weekend put an end to all of that for her. To his credit he came back and married her when she told him about the baby. But after that his positive personality traits fell off a cliff. He got her pregnant a couple more times while also sleeping around with every woman he could find. The deadbeat jerk finally left town for good last year.

She works so hard to support her kids and give them a good life, but she doesn’t have time left over for herself or for much fun of the grown-up variety.

“He was a total asshole if that makes you feel any better. On the phone I mean. He could have stopped me before I completely humiliated myself, but he just let me go on and on and then mocked me when I was finally done.”

“He can’t be that bad. Look at him and his ex-girlfriend. Scarlett could have her pick of any man out there and she picked him. He must have something going for him.”

“With a face like that, he can afford to be a jerk. Plenty of women would put up with his shit to get into his wallet and his bed,” Susie cackles. “Not you, of course, Rosie. You have standards.”

“Damn straight I do. I don’t care if he does set my panties on fire, I would never put up with a guy who treated me like that.”

Joanne reaches over to give me a hug. “There’s a great guy out there just dying to meet a girl like you. He’s out there, Rosie. Just you wait and see.”

Later that night at home under my covers I allow myself a moment to wallow in my humiliation. I can’t believe I talked that way to an author. I never talk that way to anyone. My father put an end to any dreams I might have had of romance or marriage when I was still a teenager.

He greeted my junior year homecoming date with a shotgun and warned me that any other boys who might stop by would get worse than that. That poor boy dropped the corsage he brought me at my feet and took off down the path back to the street. He didn’t even turn around to wave goodbye. When I saw him at school the next week, he looked right through me. I knew then that nobody in this town would be willing to take on my father for the opportunity to take me on a date.

I know it’s the liquor talking, but he’s just unpredictable enough that I’ve never been willing to chance it by forcing the issue. If he found out that I was involved with anyone he just might take the guy’s head off. I don’t need that on my conscience.

It’s just easier to keep to myself and play it safe. If I don’t make my father mad, then things are pretty quiet around the house. We can coexist and I can take care of him. I just need to play by his rules.

I roll over and look at Adam’s picture staring at me from the back cover of his book on my nightstand. It looks like this is about all the action I’m going to get anytime soon.

“Hey there, bad boy,” I whisper to the picture.

He stares back at me mutely, that ever-present twinkle in his eye egging me on.

Let’s call it market research to prepare for his event. I always read the author’s book before having anyone into the store for an event. Yes, I’ve read this one before, but you can never be too prepared.

I pick up the book and flip to one of my favorite scenes. The sexy doctor returns home from a long shift at the hospital and finds his kids’ nanny asleep on the couch. The kids are upstairs, in bed for the night. The moonlight pours through the windows and highlights her face. He is overcome with his desire for her and kneels next to her, admiring her soft hair and glowing skin. She wakes up and is startled to find his face inches from hers. Before she can protest, he drops a feather light kiss on her lips.

I can’t help but see Adam’s face superimposed on the sexy doctor in my mind’s eye. The sleeping nanny takes on an eerie resemblance to me. My heartbeat quickens as Adam leans over me and kisses me. I reach up to wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him toward me. His hard frame covers mine as he shifts from the floor to the couch, pinning me in place as he gently cups my cheek in his hand.

His eyes meet mine in a searing stare as he drinks me in. Then he lowers his mouth again and I am lost to him. Our lips meet and pulses of electricity flow through my body, lighting me up from within. I let my hand roam over his muscled back, sneaking up under his shirt to feel the heat of his skin. His muscles ripple under my touch and I gasp at my power to make this man react.

Emboldened, I tug his shirt up over his head and gape at the planes of his chest, running my fingers through the patch of hair on his chest. He traces the line from my ear over my collarbone and down further over the swell of cleavage under my shirt. When I moan, he unbuttons the top button and places a kiss on the newly bared skin.

One button at a time, agonizingly slowly, he works his way down my chest and onto my stomach. By the time he reaches the last button and peels the shirt over my shoulders and down my arms, I am trembling with need.

My hands roam freely over his torso finally pulling him toward me. I want to feel him against me. Skin to skin, chest to chest. As he lowers himself, I arch my back straining to get closer. His strength makes me feel protected; it makes me feel delicate and beautiful. I surrender myself to him as he towers over me. I am his to do with what he pleases.

As I read, my hand wanders over my body bringing the words on the page to life. There may not be a real man here with me, but I have Adam Smythe’s sexy doctor and an excellent imagination.

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