Page 51 of Any Girl But You
“Hey,” I say. “Did I catch you in the middle of a workout?”
“Ah, sorry, no,” she says, a slight strain to her voice. “Just up on the ladder.”
I slump into the office chair and sigh. “Seriously, you shouldn’t answer your phone when you’re on a ladder. I promise I won’t think you are up to something nefarious if you send me to voicemail.”
A small chortle sounds from the phone. “I willalwaysanswer your call.”
She says it sweetly, but there’s a finality in her tone that I know she’s serious.Swoon. I roll a pen across the table with my palm. “What are you doing?”
“Oh, you know…”
I do, in fact, know. Or at least I have a really good idea. Quinn finished setting up her shop a few days ago. And it’sperfect. From the Santa stand to the calligraphy signs pointing to thefree hot chocolate and marshmallows, to the s’more stand, she transformed the previously bare barn into a truly spectacular winter wonderland Christmas shop. Quinn is ready.
But at night after I’m done at the bakery and head out to the barn, Quinn does the same thing for hours—shifts a product a few inches to the left, then to the right, then stands back and stares for a while until she returns it to its original position. Besides the first day I met her, she’s only snapped at me one time, and that was two days ago when I told her that all the shifting of products in the world is not going to make or break her shop. In hindsight, I thought I was being helpful. She did not.
She’s burnt out, nervous, and not only navigating a new relationship, but afirstrelationship. Thankfully, when we’re alone, she lets herself fall and I hold her until I’m convinced she’s rested. But for her own sake, I feel like I need to force her to take a break.
“Everything okay?” she asks.
“Yep. Do you have two minutes for a quick story?” When she says yes, I tell her about what happened with Mrs. Pinkerton.
“Damn… What have you done with my gentle, sweet, passive girlfriend?”
Girlfriend. She said the word. Oh my gosh, she said the word! I’ve thought it, felt it from the moment we kissed in the alley, but didn’t want to totally spook her. And now, I’m beaming. I’m literally beaming so wide the light is probably ricocheting from my teeth and bouncing against the walls.
“Although…” Quinn says, “you’re not always sweet and passive…”
Oh, that huskiness in Quinn’s voice. And now heat flushes my body. She’s right, though. Quinn has unleashed something almost feral in me, and my sexual inner goddess is exploding. Yes, we have sweet, romantic, beautiful sex in my bedroom. ButI’ve also been on my knees behind her in the shower, pushing her into the wall, with her wrists bound in my hands, seeing how loud I can make her scream using my tongue along with a waterproof dildo.
A man’s voice calls out in the background at the farm. “I have to go,” Quinn says. “The crew is here to help me move the precut trees. Tonight, I want to hear every single detail of how you were a badass with Mrs. Pinkerton.”
“Let’s just say after all that even Chuck Norris himself wouldn’t bring in an unleashed dog.” I laugh and roll back on the office chair. “But seriously, I just told you the story.”
“Nope, I want the full exclusive. How you felt, how she looked, if the dog bit you, everything,” Quinn says. “I miss you.”
My smile grows. “I just saw you a few hours ago.”
“You know what I mean.”
I do know what she means. Having the luxury of spending every waking moment with Quinn this past fall while my bakery was closed is something I’ll never take for granted. But now, she’s in the heart of her busy season, which will stay busy leading up to Christmas, and our time is limited. Thank gosh she’s slept over every night since the first night, or I’m not sure I could handle it.
“Don’t forget to save your appetite for tonight,” I say.
“That will not be a problem,” Quinn says, with a chuckle. “But I’m so curious what you have planned. Do I get a little hint?”
“None. Just wear something nice, and I will pick you up at six.”
“You know I can drive over to your place, right?” Quinn says. “Pretty sure I’ll be sleeping over anyway.”
“Pretty sure you will, too.” A smile inches across my face. “But tonight, I’m giving you a proper date. And I cannot wait.”
After we hang up, I settle back into my chair and tap my fingers against the desk. As far as girlfriends go, Quinn is not fussy or high-maintenance; she has a go-with-the-flow mentality about how we spend our time together. But just because she is complacent does not mean that I can slack. I look around my office. Think, think. I need to have a wow factor tonight.
When I step out of the office and into the kitchen, I stop in my tracks. I rush into the fridge, scour the racks, and my insides start to tingle.
I know exactly what I need to do.
TWENTY-SIX
