Page 13 of For The Weekend
I’m about to answer when I hear an amused “oh god” behind me, and I turn in time to see June point outside. “It’s Kyle.”
Everyone follows her finger, a few of them snickering at some joke I’m not in on, but I spy a lanky white guy in khakis and a blue button-down crossing in front of Stone Ink. “Who’s that?”
“Kyle,” Jasper mutters as he pivots toward his tattoo station.
Jaybird curls his hands around his mouth, yelling, “Stop being such a fucking Kyle, Kyle!”
Outside, Kyle stops and throws Jay a middle finger. Jay returns the gesture with both hands.
I glance from person to person for an explanation.
Riley is the one who clues me in. “Kyle works at the bank down the street. He’s always going next door. He’s obsessed with Eloise.”
“And he’s a douche,” Jay adds.
“He can’t take the hint that she doesn’t like him, and she’s too nice to tell him to fuck off,” Sloane says, finishing that last part in a whisper so Mazie doesn’t hear. But at this point, it doesn’t matter. My kid isn’t beating the allegations of being the one to corrupt everyone in her class.
“And who exactly is Eloise?” I ask because I keep hearing her name.
“She owns Sweet Cheeks, and we’ve been best friends since high school,” Sloane explains. “I’m sure you’ll meet her soon. She’s all over the place.”
Chapter 5
Roman
The following week, I feel like I’ve found my rhythm here. I’ve had a steady stream of customers, all of them dropping in or calling because I come highly recommended. Sometimes it pays to be a member a big family. Especially when those family members have access to people with big mouths. Including a couple who stopped in days ago to introduce themselves, although Marianne didn’t need to. I remembered the pretty Black woman as Taryn’s childhood best friend, who is now married to a firecracker of a woman named Clara. Not that I’m much of a talker to begin with, but I couldn’t get a word in edgewise as she tossed her blond hair behind her shoulder, giving me the lowdown on everyone in town.
Since then, the marketing sort of took care of itself, and I’ve been working long hours, attempting to cement my role in the community and to have money for the life Mazie deserves. Books at Nicole’s store, so many treats from Sweet Cheeks that I think I’m solely keeping that place in business, as well as the dance lessons she wanted me to sign her up for.
While I’m still working on repairing my relationships with my siblings, life here has been going pretty well. So, it’s funny when I pull up to the back of Stone Ink to find everything going wrong for a woman as she struggles to maneuver through the open door of Sweet Cheeks. I step out of my SUV just as she drops a huge bag of flour on the ground, causing it to split open, sending a cloud of white powder into the air and all over her.
Her surprised yelp melts into a bubbly laugh that sounds vaguely familiar, and I cross the space between us to make sure she’s all right.
“Of course this would happen to me,” she mutters, wiping flour out of her eyes before blinking them open to me, particles still clinging to her eyelashes, and I know those green eyes. “Oh, hello. This isn’t embarrassing at all.” She slaps at her clothes, trying to remove the powder, but in the process, yanks the collar of her T-shirt down to reveal her light pink bra and huge tits.
It’sher.
The woman from Wawa. The first person I met in West Chester. The image I’ve been using to rub one out in the shower every day.
The twitch of my lips is unexpected yet not unwelcome. “Nope.”
She stops when she recognizes me too. “It’s you.”
I nod, and she smiles. The same one that punched me in the face when I saw it. “Thedaddy.”
But, really. No red-blooded straight man would blame me. That sugar-and-spice voice calling medaddy?
Straight up spank-bank material.
And I’m positive I know who she is. The famous Eloise.
“Can I help you?” I ask, gesturing to the fifty-pound bag.
“That would be great. Thanks.”
I make sure to hold the split end together as I haul it up intomy arms, and she sighs. I glance over my shoulder to find her hands on her hips, her head bobbing as she deliberately looks me up and down. “Being as big as a refrigerator has its upsides, huh?”
“I guess.”
