Misadventures With The Mistaken Twin (Big Sky Boyfriends #2)

Chapter 7

7

I only had enough opportunity over the course of the night for those first few fortifying sips of gin and tonic. Jack had had enough beer—and most likely painkillers—floating around in his system to want to stay around for some male bonding. I, on the other hand, had had enough of men by nine-thirty. Mike volunteered his guest room—just for the night—to Jack. Relieved I didn't have to deal with him, and his belief that I liked kinky sex, I ducked out and headed home. The whole ride I considered his comment. Had Jack said he liked kinky because he really did like kink? Or had he said it because he thought I liked kink and he wanted me? Regardless, my body wanted him. My brain didn't want to want him, but my body was currently winning the fight. My nipples were tight, and I had to squeeze my thighs together to stop the tingling in that general area just thinking about the man. As for my panties? Ruined.

I slept late, even with the too hard mattress and the unfamiliar light streaming through Violet's bedroom window. It was my turn to open the store. Fortunately for me, Goldilocks didn't open until one o'clock on Sundays. I took a quick shower—I knew the water heater wouldn't allow me more—and threw on a pair of jeans, pink turtleneck and cream-colored scarf. I put my hair up in a twist with tendrils hanging down in a casual look and put on the usual make up. I bundled into all of my layers, brushed the new snow from the van and waited for the windshield to defrost. Even though the store was only eight blocks away—I counted one rainy day when my dad had had the van and I’d had to walk—there was no way I was walking in this frigid temperature. It was too dangerous and I would be frozen solid before I hit Main Street.

I tossed my purse on the passenger seat and it landed on top of George the Gnome, Zach’s little garage sale sidekick. About twelve inches tall, he was hard ceramic. Red jacket, white beard, blue pointy hat. He stared at me with beady eyes and had a smile that said lots of different things. Right now, George was saying, Good Morning! I shook my head and smiled back. I'd forgotten Jane was dropping Zach's gnome off before they left town. He was officially my apprentice plumber now, at least until they returned.

Goldilocks was located one block off Main Street, right downtown. I parked in the lot behind the building and trudged through the two inches of snow that had fallen after midnight. It was fairly quiet, no one walking around. It was too cold. It had been at least a week since it had been above ten degrees. I couldn't remember when it had been above freezing last. Probably before Thanksgiving. As I fiddled with the key in the lock, I noticed a woman standing in the doorway of the restaurant across the street. She huddled there, clearly cold and miserable. She held a to-go coffee cup between her hands. One hand was mittened and one wrapped up like it had been injured.

She was short, mid-forties, wearing dark pants, winter boots and a pink puffy jacket. Her hair was pulled back into one of those fleece headbands that covered her ears. Long, blonde strands of hair blew in her face from the Chinook wind that had brought the snow. Even from across the street I could tell she was staring, no, make that glaring, at me.

I pulled the tinted glass door closed behind me, savoring the dry warmth of the building's ancient heating system. The day before, Goldie had said someone had stopped in for me, that she was petite and blonde with a bandaged hand. Was this the same woman? I wasn't planning on going back out in the cold to find out. If she wanted me, she knew where I was.

I turned the overhead lights on and started my opening process. Under counter lighting, cash register, open sign. I stuffed my hat and mittens into my coat pocket and hung it on the hook behind the door to the storage room.

The afternoon was quiet, with it being Sunday and cold. It was the perfect time to stay at home and have sex, and everyone was probably content to make do with the sex toys they already had until it warmed up a little. A few customers had come in to return videos, but I spent most of the afternoon making the party bags for Mike. Jack’s bag was a challenge, especially with the cock ring fiasco, and the fact that he’d offered me no guidance.

I debated being vengeful and barely stopped myself from tossing in some male leather chaps, a strap-on dildo and a prostate tickler. He'd only have fodder to tease even more, so I eventually went with safe, tame selections and hoped he’d drop the kinky vibe with me. Strawberry massage oil, a blindfold and handcuffs, a cock ring—I still had enough nerve to throw that in—and a feather. And nope, I absolutely did not imagine him using any of those toys in bed with me.

Goldie came in like a winter blizzard, all cold air and chaos. Goose bumps popped out on my arms from the tundra gust following her through the door.

“Sorry I'm late,” she said, as she unraveled a thick pale blue scarf about her neck. Beneath, she had on a bright fuchsia sweater with a large portion of cleavage showing, black stretchy pants and a pair of black patent clogs. “I was reading this romance novel, you know, one of those bodice rippers, and lost track of time. I was right in the middle of the sex scene”—she patted her poofed hair back into place—“when I should have left. But I'm not one to stop in the middle of good sex.” She shook her head. “No, sir.”

“No problem,” I replied, not wanting to get into a conversation about Goldie's sex life. “What's the book called?”

Goldie returned from hanging up her coat. “ Ravaging Rakes .”

I tried to picture the cover art on that book. Bodice ripping definitely came to mind.

“I'll bring it in for you when I'm done. I tell you though”—Goldie looked up when a customer came in—“Let me know if you need anything!” She returned her gaze to me. “We could write a good romance book. Hell, we're the queens of romance.”

I chuckled as I put a variety of individual condoms in the different party bags I'd arranged on a side counter. “Queens of romance?” I questioned. “You, maybe. You've been married for forever.”

Goldie tilted her head from side to side in consideration. “Fine then, the queens of sex.”

I tracked down the glow-in-the-dark condoms and opened a box. “We just talk the talk. We don't walk the walk.”

Goldie looked down her nose at me. “Speak for yourself.”

“Fine. I just talk the talk. I don't walk the walk. At least not lately,” I grumbled the last to myself.

“Isn't that what writing a romance is anyway? Just the talk? It doesn't say anything about walking the walk.”

True. She had a good point there. It was fiction. It wasn't a porn flick like those lining the shelves behind me. Books were make-believe—in comparison to the make-believe ‘real-sex’ in porn.

“You're saying we should write a romance novel?” I wasn't sure if Goldie's idea was good or bad, or where she was going with it.

The customer brought up a bag of penis shaped candles.

“Birthday?” Goldie asked her as she rung it up.

The woman, mid-twenties, nodded. “My friend just came out of the closet a month ago so his partner and I thought this would be a riot.”

There had to be at least thirty candles in the plastic bag.

“Don't burn the house down,” Goldie said.

The woman laughed, thanked us and left.

“I think it would be fun.”

I'd found Arty's gift bag items and dropped some condoms inside to join the fingertip vibrator I'd demonstrated, peach scented body oil and a maid's costume, size small. “What, the gag candles?” I'd forgotten what we were talking about.

“No, the romance novel.”

“Oh, right.”

Goldie went to rearrange the handcuff selection. “We should each write one! This would really warm up those cold winter nights.”

I could think of better things to warm up my nights and it wasn't pen and paper. It was?—

Jack. Walking through the door.

“Jack Reid! As I live and breathe,” Goldie exclaimed as she rounded the BDSM display to wrap him in a great big Goldie hug. Smothering and oddly comforting at the same time.

He must've been by Violet's house as he looked freshly showered and shaved. I had to admit, the bit of scruff from the night before had been kind of hot. It seemed everything he did lit my fire. Just him breathing did it for me. He pulled the same gray cap from yesterday off his head, revealing his thick black hair. Hair that I'd dreamed about running my fingers through. To this day, I didn't know what it felt like. I guessed silky and soft and...wonderful. I could just ask Violet though to find out, I thought, still bitter.

Today he had on the same black jacket, zipped up all the way to close tightly beneath his chin. He wore jeans. This pair was equally broken in, cupping his ass just right, and had a slight fray at the knee. Same shoes.

Jack looked at me over Goldie's shoulder. Today his eyes, although equally blue, didn't have that hard edge from yesterday. They were softer now, more like the blue of a tropical sea instead of deep, frozen glaciers. Probably the headache was gone.

“Miss Goldie, you look the same,” Jack said, once he'd been released from the hug.

“A girl never denies a compliment.” Goldie preened and fluffed her poofy hair. “How have you been?” She eyed Jack as if he were under a microscope.

Goldie loved to grill everyone about their lives. Jack didn't cringe or panic at her question. Yet. If he knew what I thought was coming, he'd run for the hills. I stayed behind the counter and pretended to organize the freebie condoms in the little basket next to the register.

Jack tucked his cap into his coat, and then shoved his hands in his jeans pockets. “I've been fine. Just fine.”

Oh, this was going to be good. Jack hadn't been around Goldie for a long, long time. She was better at cross-examination than the best of attorneys—and Jack was one. He didn't stand a chance.

“Your uncle told me you're a lawyer.”

Jack nodded. “Yes, ma'am, I am. Divorce attorney in Miami.”

“That explains the tan! Married?”

“No.”

“Divorced?”

“No.”

“Girlfriend?”

Jack smiled, finally catching on. “Not at the moment, no.”

Goldie looked Jack up and down. “Boyfriend?”

Now Jack laughed. “No.”

Turning to me, Goldie gave me a look, eyebrows raised, one I assumed meant attractive single guy in the room!

She returned her focus back to Jack. “ Didn't satisfy her? Is that why you're here? To get my advice?”

Jack just stared at Goldie for a minute, his cheeks flushed red. I could actually see him squirming in his shoes.

“Um, no.”

Goldie nodded. “Right, so did you satisfy her?”

Jack held up his hand to stop her. “No, I mean, yes. Who?” He scratched his ear, clearly confused.

“Your last girlfriend. That's why she left you,” Goldie countered.

“I don't have problems satisfying a woman,” Jack replied confidently, his male ego blatantly intact.