Page 2 of Designing with the Mountain Man
Lyric knew exactly what Marlowe was to me.
I still loved her as much as the day I first saw her in tenth grade.
Yet, how could she not tell me she was back?
I had to see her. Now.
After huntingdown every piece of information I could get my greedy little hands on about the bakery, I hopped in my truck and drove straight over there, my hands white knuckling the steering wheel the entire time.
Marlowe was back. She is back in town.
Why didn’t she tell me?
I thought maybe I should wait. Maybe I should take a second to think this crazy shit through. Maybe I should be patient and wait for her to come to me.
Yet none of it sat right with me. The only thing that did make sense was going to see her.
Lyric agreed, said I’d waited around long enough. It was time to claim my woman and this time I wasn’t letting her go, no matter what she said.
I never stopped loving her.
I never would and I never will.
I didn’t care what she said.
She would always be mine.
And it was about damn time I told her so.
When I pulled up to the bakery, a few trucks had parked in front, a guy on a ladder on the side. Painting and roofing were happening along with other upgrades, turning a rundown building into something bright and new.
I liked how Marlowe didn’t go for a new build and instead overtook a bakery that had closed years ago, one we frequented often as kids. I remember when it closed during my senior year of high school, and it was as if the entire town went into mourning. Since then, we traveled to Appleridge for their bakery, but now we might not have to.
Marlowe might not even be here for all I knew, but it was worth the chance. I wanted to pull her into my arms but also ask the heartbreaking question of why she didn’t tell me she returned home.
Did she not want to see me?
Before I could question myself to death, I parked my truck and walked up the freshly done stone path leading to the front door. The door was open, with a screen door latched between and as I got closer, I saw people mulling about inside.
And when I stepped up to the door, Marlowe walked into view and my knees buckled.
She looked the same, yet different.
She’d grown into herself, now all woman with delicious curves and an even more delicious ass. Her breasts were fuller, and her long brown hair tumbled down her back longer than I remembered it being. She wore tight black leggings and a petite white chef coat; the coat doing something to my insides, where all my fantasies hid.
Marlowe smiled and laughed with her best friend, Genevieve, her cheerful personality on full display.My sweet Mar, still as sweet as ever.
Andstill just as gorgeous as the day she left town, waving goodbye from her car as she drove off with Genevieve to chase their dreams together.
I inhaled deeply and opened the screen door.
Both of them looked up. But I was only focused on her.
Her eyes widened, and her mouth fell open.
“Forget to tell me you were back in town? Good thing the apple gossip chain is as strong as ever.” I crossed my arms and huffed, frustration and anger brimming beneath the surface. Resentment wafted off me as much as I tried to hide it.
“Steeler.” Marlowe breathed, and that was all it took.
