Page 16 of Love Bites

“No, I did not.” I flicked the malted milk ball at him. He caught it in one big hand then popped it into his mouth. I’d never known Ryan to waste a malted milk ball.

“Dude.”

“Okay, I did say I wanted to kiss him but not in a way that means that he’s charming me out of my pants or anything.” Ryan cocked an eyebrow. I huffed then pulled out an invoice that he, as always, had undercharged on. “You really need to stop letting the locals get away with giving you peanuts for work that you’ve done. You’re a craftsman.”

“And you’re evading.” He chewed on his treat.

“I’m not evading, I’m doing your books. And I’m trying to explain that there are hundreds of ways to kiss someone. I kissMamie all the time but that’s not a big thing. I kiss you guys all the time and that’s not a big thing. I kiss my cats and that’s not a big thing. Kisses, expressing the wish to maybe want to kiss someone is nothing. It’s just a saying. Like when you say, ‘I love this chunk of maple so much I want to fuck it’ and we all just nod.”

“Okay, for one thing,” he swallowed as the coffee pot on the filing cabinet gurgled. I needed more caffeine stat. Founders Day was fast approaching and it was going to be all hands on deck. Mamie had been disappearing for longer lunches every day. That damn Edgar. Sexy German men were slowly working their way into the Aubert stronghold of solitude. Plying us with pretty smiles, long legs, and hands that knew how to pull taffy like a pro. “When I say that everyone knows I’m not personally going to take the wood out to the lake and share a romantic paddleboat ride with it then try to take it home so I can slip my dick into a knothole.”

“Do we, Ryan? Do wereallyknow that?” I asked. The incoming malted milk ball struck me in the chest then fell to my lap. No way was I reaching down between my legs to get it. The merest touch against my semi—damn Phillip Brauning and his hands—would make me twitch.

“Okay, you’ve obviously inhaled too much cocoa today.” I snorted in amusement. Ryan was such a sweetie, and totally easy to tease. “I’m just pointing out that you’ve been ranting about this corporate pirate riding into town to take over your ship and now, out of the blue—and because he’s got stupid loafers and bare ankles—you’re ready to lay down and show him your poop deck.”

“What the hell is with the pirate talk? Have you been watchingPirates of the Caribbeanon a loop again?”

“No! Maybe. Sue me, I like the way Orlando Bloom looks with that long brown hair and holding a sword.”

I sighed. “Mm, yeah. I much prefer him with long blond hair holding a bow.”

We both took a moment to reflect and admire the beauty that is Orlando Bloom.

“Okay, so this invoice for Mr. Thomas and his rocking chair repair,” I said and got a dark look. “What? Ryan, seriously, he paid you in peanuts. I mean, literal peanuts. It says so right here on the slip.” I waved the invoice around.

“He’s old and on social security. His rocking chair broke. I fixed it. He didn’t have money but he had found a jumbo bag of peanuts in his cupboard so he gave me those. What am I supposed to do, hold the old duff upside down and shake the quarters and gumballs out of his pockets?”

Ryan, bless his heart, was a man of great compassion. A trait I admired and hoped like hell I shared. Yes, old folks living like misers did need a helping hand. I had no quarrel about that, even though he could have sent a bill to Mr. Thomas’s son who worked on the gas pipelines and had a nice income. I was all for helping the elderly and lower income people in our community. I donated candy to the senior center for all kinds of reasons. I also knew I didnotwant my grandmother to spend her golden years paying craftsmen for work with peanuts, despite the fact Ryan would feed the blue jays the dusty legumes.

I wanted more for Mamie. More than clipping coupons or, worse, having to move in with my parents. That would be a catastrophe for all involved. My mother, her daughter, would sooner have Satan living in the spare room than Mamie. And that was said with all kinds of love. Mom and Mamie did not jibe well. Too much alike according to my father. A few thousand miles between them kept their relationship amiable.

“And that’s why I am seriously contemplating selling to Phillip,” I confided softly. Ryan swallowed loudly. “I mean…yeah, I’m tempted. Not going to lie.” Temptation that was notsolely linked to the shop either. Phillip Brauning was sex on a fucking European stick. “If I sell Mamie could move back to France, buy a nice chalet, and be with her old friends. This shop is my life but it’s…it’s robbing me of all the joy I used to have in life. The stress, the worry. How will I pay the taxes? How will I pay the help? It’s just… yeah, it is like that in a nutshell.” I barked out a crude snort. “Nuts. Peanuts. See what I did there?”

“Haider, man, look, I know things are tight. I mean Ireallyknow. Times are hard for all of us but maybe if you just hang in a little longer. The economy will pick up soon, it has to, and maybe with some creative marketing we can boost sales. Your candy is the best candy in the state!”

“You’re biased.”

“My sister says to too,” he added.

“Well, she’s biased too, and so is her boyfriend, but thanks. It’s just one of those things. Times change. Perhaps a new shop in a new town would be just the thing to breathe some life into my craft.”

“You’d really leave Caldwell Crossing?” He sounded heartbroken at the mere thought.

To be honest it would probably kill me to move from this area. I’d lived here my entire life. But maybe it was time. Maybe my future wasn’t here in New Hampshire. Maybe that elusive thing I’d been looking for by dating man after man after man wasn’t to be found here. Perhaps I had to move on, find a new shop, and start over. Surely my friends—who were more like brothers than just buddies—would understand.

“I don’t know what to do.” I finally replied then gave him a wobbly smile. “I think I hit thirty and I’m having some sort of identity crisis or something. I’ve been looking for something or someone for a long time. Maybe the thing that I’m searching for isn’t here.”

“Where do you think that thing is? Germany?” That yanked me out of my fugue. “I mean you must be thinking of selling to Brauning and then going back to Germany with Phillip, right?”

It took me a moment to shake off the shock. “I…no. Phillip? He has nothing to do with it.”

“Really? Because from where I’m sitting all of this talk of moving on and leaving everything behind started when he arrived in town.”

“Ryan, we haven’t even held hands.” Unless you counted the twenty minutes that we co-steered the hippo boat around Harmony Lake. No one needed to know about that.

“But you want to. And you want to kiss him. If you’re that set on leaving town then why drag it out and put us all through hell?! Why not just say yes, sign the shop over, and go find yourself over in the land of beer and strudel? Why keep flapping around as if you don’t know what you want when it’s obvious to anyone with eyes that what you want is Phillip!”

He pushed to his feet, flung the empty container of malted milk balls to the trash, and left on a wave of painful indignation.

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