Page 46 of Cupcake
“You know what I mean,” he said with laughter filling his voice. “I’ll make more of those tonight and worry less about the others. There will only be so much time, even if I go in a few hours early.”
“You know what they say,” Amber said on a wink. “Better to leave them wanting more and knowing where to get it than wear them all out in a weekend.”
I hugged her one last time and walked back around the table where Brady put his arm around me. “I didn’t know anyone said that. As for me, I’m all about being worn out all weekend.”
We walked out of the tent with grins on our faces and her laughter filling our ears.
Eighteen
The fair was bustling. There were families with young kids and the elderly wandering down the paths to check out the displays. Later tonight, when the midway opened, the teens and young people would flood the place. I was glad I would be at home sleeping. Haylee took a bite of her pronto pup and moaned softly, garnering a look from me as we walked toward a bench under a tree.
“This reminds me of my teenage years,” she said, licking mustard off her lip. It was my turn to release a soft moan because I wanted to do the licking.
“You came to the fair a lot as a kid?” I asked, licking my lips of the ketchup I’d put on my dog.
“I worked here as a teenager. All the fair food you could eat and six bucks an hour cash. It was every kid’s dream. My hips and ass are proof.”
My eyes drifted to her lower half. “Remind me to thank the fair before we leave.”
She snickered and lowered herself to the bench, our early morning catching up to her. We were used to working early and long hours, but working those hours and then baking all afternoon added to the fatigue we were already fighting. Of course, if we stopped making love all night and got some sleep, that might help. That wasn’t nearly as much fun, though. As much as I hated the idea, we’d have to leave soon and head back for a nap before we had to bake again tonight.
“We should head home,” Haylee said, finishing her food. “We need to be baking again in,” she checked her watch, “eight hours.”
“Can we spend those next eight hours in your bed?” I asked, tossing our garbage in a can and sitting next to her to people watch.
“Only if our eyes are closed, and we’re not wrapped around each other.”
“Zero out of ten, do not recommend.”
She laughed, her head tossed back as it shook back and forth with her beautiful brown hair gleaming in the sunshine. “You are too much, Able Baker Brady.”
“Where did this Able Baker Brady thing come from?” I asked, perplexed.
When she turned to me, her face was filled with shock. “You know, Able Baker Charlie from the Richard Scarry books?”
My head tipped to the side. “Uh, no, but I didn’t have your typical childhood.”
