Page 75 of Love in Mission City
“I’d like to think I was good at parts of it.” He tweaked my nose. “I want to try again.”
My breath caught. “That’s a whole lot of Orlando. Work, business, marriage—”
“Sounds like a whole lot of perfect to me.” He kissed me soundly. A gentle pressing of lips that soon worked into one of those all-consuming kisses we were so good at. He pulled back. “Last one in the shower has to give the blow job.” He pushed off me and scrambled toward the bathroom.
I didn’t mind, of course. I loved giving him blow jobs. And if this was the way the rest of our lives went, that worked pretty well for me as well.
Although…maybe I could talk him into getting a cat or a dog? Our ownchildwithout the stress…
Pumpkin Spicy
Autumn
Gabbi Grey
Clay
My first opportunity to share my new super-secret pumpkin spice recipe with the world is at the autumn Farmer’s Market in Mission City. I’m all set with plenty of inventory, but what I don’t expect is a cute guy who drops by every day asking for…pumpkin carving lessons?
The last day of the market, I’m too busy to speak to him, and he disappears. I'm worried he thought I didn't want him around, and I need to apologize. My good friend Wyatt suggests I track the guy down at his house. That leads to a surprise that changes everything.
Pumpkin Spicyis an 8k sweet gay romance short story with a shy stranger, nosy friends, and a chance meeting that might just lead to a happily ever after.
Dedication
Wendy
Contents
1. Chapter One
2. Chapter Two
3. Chapter Three
4. Chapter Four
5. Chapter Five
6. Chapter Six
Chapter One
Clay
Irubbed my hands together as I gazed over my vast spread of jars just waiting to be sold. My super-secret pumpkin spice recipe that everyone was going to rave about. I’d haul in enough money to make more batches that I’d sell at the next market. The Autumn Farmer’s Market was my favorite.
Okay, a close second to the Christmas shindig. By a whisper.
I arranged the pumpkins I’d bought from Wyatt on my table.
Wyatt, the well-known pumpkin farmer, was a stable member of the community. Oh, and he looked adorable with his husband Tate as they hauled those crates of pumpkins and flats of bok choy like the things were toys.
On the other hand, I was…scrawny. I didn’t like to use that term. My mother preferred scrappy. Compared to the sea of muscles on Tate and Wyatt, though, mine were pretty puny. Honestly, though, it didn’t bother me.
Much.
My forte was more cerebral. I’d earned my business degree and, while studying, had embarked upon the quest to findthe perfect spice. Starbucks had the best pumpkin spice latté around, but I wanted to create something buyers could take and mix into anything they chose. Personally, I’d stick my nose out and say pumpkin spiced vanilla ice cream—made with my special secret recipe—was the best.
