Page 41 of Prayers for the Prickly

Content.

That was the only way to describe the sounds he made when he wiggled down on the bed until just the top of his head poked out over the edge of the comforter. Each sigh was accompanied by a little squirm that ensured that adorable little tushy was pressed right up against my cock. Some nights, I tormented myself by slowly rolling my hips and rubbing my erection against him until he squirmed, hooked his ankle over the back of my thigh, and moaned for me to take him.

The memory forced me to bite back a growl or embarrass myself in front of Olly, who’d already stopped walking and was looking at me funny.

“What?” I grumbled, brushing at my beard in case I had sand or crumbs in it or something.

“Just lost you again, almost as soon as you started to think about whether you’d heard me or not,” Olly said. “At this point, I’m going to assume no, but that’s okay, because you were in such a daze, you didn’t even notice me taking pictures of the big goofy look on your face. I know you were thinking about August and totally ignoring our conversation. Before you ask, it totally doesn’t matter if you make me erase them, I’ve already sent them to August with a caption that said, #Siblingfail My brother thinking about his mate when he’s supposed to be talking to me.”

I snorted so hard a seagull screamed at me before it flew away. The next thing I knew, Olly whipped his camera out and practically shoved it in my face to show me the picture he’d taken of me.

I looked high.

My eyes looked glazed, my mouth half hung open even with the faintest bit of a smile trying to tug the corners up, but the thing that shocked me the most was how completely not there I looked when I thought about August.

What could I say, I was already addicted to my mate. I’d follow thoughts of him down a rabbit hole any day, even if it meant having to stay up later to finish my actual work.

“And I’ve lost you again,” Olly said. “I give up. Don’t even bother coming to the shop and trying to work until you’ve seen your mate. At this point, I’m afraid you’d get so lost thinking of him that you’d cut off a finger. I am good at managing a lot of things, big brother, but I promise you, that will be the one situation where you will have to bandage the finger, dial 9-1-1, and check to make sure hitting the ground didn’t give me a concussion.”

This snort was louder than the previous one, but holy shit, I could just picture the calamity of cutting off a digit with only Olly around to rely on until the EMTs came. A dumpster fire on top of a shit storm, that’s what it would be, especially if I wound up having to calm him down and keep a seagull from gobbling up the tip of my finger before we had the chance to find out if they could reattach it.

“Why is that funny to you?”

“Because I can see it, and the look on Pops’ face if he got there before the EMTs did.”

“He’d laugh, you know he’d laugh, for like, two seconds, then jump straight to lecturing us,” Olly said.

We laughed the rest of the walk down the beach, then parted ways as he went to put a note on the door of the shop, saying that the showroom was closed today, while I headed to the candy shop to see my prickly mate.

Chapter 16

August

Relief flooded me the moment I spotted Gregor’s bushy beard and leather vest moving through the sea of people waiting to have their orders filled. We’d had to set up the mobile register, just to keep things flowing, but one thing had been clear from the moment we opened.

Soda swirl taffy was officially a hit.

For the last week we’d done a countdown to the unveil, including random sample times where we just broke out pieces and distributed them to whoever happened to be in the shop. We’d been fuller than normal, with several small, repeat buys by certain individuals we’d taken to watching for, so we could time one of our reveals when they were present.

The way people had taken to sharing the experience on social media had been wild and affirming. When Aunty Clara and my cousin Stella had balked at the tactics I’d proposed, Aunty Eunice had just nodded and told me they’d see, as she gave me her blessing to run with it.

A pair of teens had written about popping in four times in the same afternoon, and each time they’d discovered a new treat they’d fallen in love with. They’d gotten to sample the tropical creamsicle explosion, woven ropes of mango, pineapple, and tangerine taffy that I’d folded into a batch of vanilla cream taffy we’d twisted with lemon-lime soda pop taffy that really brought out the tropical notes in the other flavors.

Talk about elevating orange soda to a different level, I was truly proud of myself for that one and the way today’s batches were already selling out. I saw Gregor melt toward the side of the room where a bench sat, with magazines for people waiting while their companions were browsing.

When I could no longer see him, I knew he’d taken a seat there to wait for the people to thin out. Just knowing he was there had eased some of the tension that had never fully left my neck and shoulders after he’d had his close call on the ship. I doubted anything would ease it fully until we were alone together tonight, and he could rub them for me.

The fan swirled a hint of his scent my way, wrapped up in leather, sea salt and a whiff of the lobster he’d been handling.

“This is the last for today,” I declared, forty-five minutes later, after the final morning’s batches had cooled enough that I could cut them.

We’d see how those final two flavors did, and how many people came in throughout the afternoon looking for soda pop taffy only to learn that we’d sold out. While I hated for there to be disappointed faces, I also hoped they’d pick up something to tide them over until tomorrow. Made me wonder how many I’d see drop in earlier in the day, too. We’d made notes of how long it had taken each batch to sell out as well as a count of the people who asked for it after it was gone, and already knew we’d have to make at least two additional batches of pineapple crush and cherry cola tomorrow.

The last two flavors of the day were cosmic grape and electric strawberry. Each was also woven with thin ribbons of lemon soda taffy to give them a hint of subtle tartness when they were bitten into. It was a prelude to the unveiling of the lemonade and sweat tea varieties I had plans to craft this summer, and now I knew exactly which launch strategy to use when it came time to unveil them, too.

I was in the zone and on cloud nine by the time the flow of people slowed to a trickle, who as I’d hoped, still purchased something after being told the candy they’d come for had sold out. One mom with a daughter who loved lollipops discovered our bubble pop collection, in which hollow lollipops had been filled with edible glitter, sprinkles, and tiny candy confetti pieces, to create a unique treat full of different flavored surprises.

We were constantly getting orders for them for birthday parties, and had one group make a special request we’d been pleased to grant. Five friends, celebrating one’s eighth birthday, had come in for a demonstration of how the bubble pops were made, then each designed their perfect pop, that we made for them. Seeing the wide-eyed wonder on their faces as they’d watched me work had reminded me of my favorite movie growing up.Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factorywas my favorite book, too. I’d read the whole series and watched the remakes of the original movie several times since they’d come out. While none held the same appeal for me as the original, they’d all affirmed my love for the profession I’d chosen.

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