Page 19 of Foreplay on Words

“It’s, um, Chastity Rose,” I mumbled. I wasn’t ashamed of my writing, but I never knew how people would take it.

“Oh, you write some racy stuff! That last one was quite the page-turner.”

I blushed and bit my lip. That book was usually the one people remembered. My other books had been steamy, but the last book’s whips and chains had gotten people’s attention.

“Thank you?”

“Are you working on a new book?” she asked without pause, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Living up to others’ expectations of my writing was always difficult for me.

“Yes, but that’s not why I’m here. I was sent to help another author fine-tune his next novel.”

“Ah, the mystery writer,” she replied knowingly.

“You’ve met him?” I stared at her curiously. Despite Is’s warnings about his reclusive nature, he seemed normal.

“Not technically. I’ve seen him in town, and he’s occasionally bought produce from the farmer next door. He keeps to himself.”

“I’ve heard,” I confirmed. It seemed Evan’s reclusive nature was common knowledge.

“Did you meet him yet?” The little smile she aimed in my direction was more than curious. It seemed Marian thrived on gossip.

“Last night. I spent a little time at his house. It’s really beautiful out there. I can see why he’s so inspired to write with that scenery surrounding him.”

“And? Is he as mysterious and intriguing as the young ladies in this town seem to think he is?”

I thought about how uncomfortable it’d probably make him to have people imagining that he was some puzzle to be solved, like in his novels. “He is still a bit of a mystery to me, but he seemed normal. Quiet. He likes things to be orderly.” Blushes when you call him out for staring at your ass.

“I think the fact that he never talks to anyone and only shows his face a few times a month makes them all endlessly fascinated.”

“His land and house are amazing,” I sighed, mentally recalling the peaceful scenery I’d enjoyed the previous day.

“He backs up to a state park. I was surprised when I found out he was building a house out there. They had to run fiber optic cable to his property just so he’d have Internet.”

“Yeah, I don’t think most of us could survive without the Internet nowadays,” I laughed.

“I could do without it,” she shrugged, “but I have to cater to the clientele.” She pointed to a wireless router mounted above one of the cabinets.

“Us spoiled, tech-obsessed city folk.”

“Something like that,” she chuckled as she drizzled a thick, creamy, light-yellow sauce over the meal she’d assembled on the counter. “Do you want to eat inside or out? Are you a coffee drinker?”

“Outside would be amazing. And yes. One hundred thousand percent, yes,” I laughed. The thought that people could survive without extra caffeination was appalling.

“I have a travel mug you can borrow while you’re here. No Starbucks for miles.” Marian chuckled at the way my eyes widened.

“That would be amazing. Coffee is my favorite food group.”

The food she served me was phenomenal––a rich, hearty interpretation of Eggs Benedict with crispy bacon, cooked to perfection. I wanted to live here. This was already the best work-related trip ever.

By eight, I was stuffed; my laptop was in the car, my travel mug of caffeinated liquid gold was in my hand, and I was ready to go.

“Here I come, Evan. I hope you’re ready for me.”

“Hey,” I smiled as he met me at his front door.

“Hey.”

Damn, he’s beautiful.

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