Page 32 of Please, Sir

“Please, sir,” I say, reaching out, tugging the strap from his palm.

I sling my purse over my shoulder, drop my eyes to my feet, and turn, beelining for the front door. Jo Jo follows after me, giggling. “You don’t have to call him sir.”

On the front porch, I turn, smiling at her as if I don’t have a care in the world. “Alright Jo Jo, if you wanna talk, I’ll see you at school in two days.” I smile again, this time genuine, for her. “Don’t let those girls get to you. I know you’re gonna think I’m just saying this but… they’re just insecure and jealous of you. Keep being you.”

Feeling great about my advice, I choose to ignore everything that happened in Jake’s closet until I am naked in bed with my eyes squeezed shut.

Jake Turner is absolutely the hottest bachelor in Bluebell.

And he makes absolutely wonderful fantasies. Even without batteries.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Dean and Hudsonstand in front of my booth, Hudson wearing an uneasy smile, and Dean a sympathetic one. I let out a sigh.

“It’s fine that she didn’t come. I’m not spiraling out.” I keep my focus on the belt I’m making custom for Dorthea, the woman who runs the fudge booth. Using my creaser, I smooth the edges of the belt, rounding them out for afiner finish.

There’s no movement in front of me, so I carefully place the creaser on the table, releasing the slack on the belt. I take my hat off, and move my fingers through my hair. It’s damp with sweat, and this random fall heat is irritating me. So are my friends, hovering over me like I’m a damn eggshell.

“You sure, buddy?” Dean hedges, reaching out to run his fingers over the designs etched in the belt. I slap his hand away.

“That’s not done, I don’t need your finger oils all over it. Andbuddy?” I repeat, shaking my head. “She’s a teenage girl. Dr. Tanner says this is all normal. I’m fine, seriously.”

Dean still gives me that weird, sad, conciliatory smile.

I wave my finger at him. “If you ever wanna swap woes over beers again, I’m not doing it if you’re gonna use it against me.”

He holds up his palms in surrender. “Fine, fine. Just checking on you.” A little boy runs by behind us, waving his shirt in the air over his head like a lasso, screaming ‘yee-haw.’ Dean shakes his head, and at this moment I’m glad he’s often easily distracted. “He seems pretty young to be hauling around shirtless and alone, no?”

Hudson leans back, hands on his hips, eyeing the little boy. “Ah, that’s Archie Holt. He goes to school with Bear. He’s… just a wild boy. All the Holt boys are a little wild.”

“Boone Holt is my boy!” Dean says, naming off the quarterback of his varsity team. “I didn’t know he had a brother that young. He’s got a younger brother at Bluebell High, that I know.” He smiles. “Well, more Holt boys for future Bruiser championships.”

Archie runs by again, this time with a piece of fudge in his death grip, melting between his fingers. A moment later, Dorthea chases after him, sending dust up around Hudson’s and Dean’s ankles, from the commotion.

“Archie Holt, you cannot steal!” Dorthea hollers.

“Damn,” Dean says, “Dorthea can really fucking run, eh?”

Hudson nods, both of their heads bobbing as they watch the chase play out. “Gotta be fast around sticky fingers.” He turns back to face me, smiling as he extends his hand. I shake it. “Have a good market today.”

My gaze slides to his booth–Gray Farms Flavored Milks–and spot Dolly there, smiling, a line of customers wrapping their booth. “You, too. Keep one of those Chocolate Caramel milks aside, I’m gonna grab it on my way out.”

He tips his hat. “Will do.”

He and Dean wander off, and I’m just about to settle into my booth and continue working when something shiny and yellow catches my eye.

Hair.

Riley’s hair. Flaxen beneath the sharp glint of the sun, she flips it over her shoulder, loose waves tumbling down her back. A groan rumbles through my ribcage when I take in the slender curve of her body in that form fitting pink sundress. Shapely calves give way to strong thighs, a plump ass and tits that make my palms throb to hold them.

I adjust myself below the table with one hand, because five seconds of looking at Riley Rivers has my cock hard.

The look on her face last night when I found her in my closet. The mortification and rambling was cute as hell. And the way she called me sir. It just fell off her lips, like it came from her gut. It was fucking hot, and even though I’d just tugged one out in the shower moments before, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t do it again, two more times, replaying her expression as she looked at my dick… not once, but many times.

I know I’m big. It took my wife a long time to be able to handle me inside of her.

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