Page 121 of Outcast
Emory grinned and grabbed my hand, tugging me down the sidewalk. “We’ve got nothing on Granville.” He paused thoughtfully. “Except maybe our awful high school mascot.”
“The cornjerker is certainly an odd one.”
We passed a vendor selling T-shirts with goldenrods on them, another with goldenrod handmade soap, and a third—a little old lady who simply had a sign that said,Adults, ask me about my ‘golden rods’ for the bedroom!
Golden rods for the bedroom? Surely, she didn’t mean…
“Yoo-hoo!” she called. “Are you boys a couple? I’ve got the perfect thing to add some spice to your love life!”
Emory faltered, surprised at being called out. I drew him toward the booth, giving his hand a little squeeze. “This is why we came here, right?” I murmured. “No one knows us.”
He sent me a smile that made my pulse skip a beat. I was so fucking screwed when it came to this man.
“Golden rod doesn’t have to meanflower,” the vendor told us with a saucy wink.
Emory laughed. “I think we’ve got all the spice we can handle already.”
She looked us over, gaze taking in the ink covering my arms and Emory’s toned thighs beneath the hem of his shorts.
“You’re both lucky men,” she said, handing out a business card. “If anything changes, you know where to find me.”
We both looked down at the card, which readPaula Goodman, Sensual Secrets.
“Thanks, Paula,” I said, tucking the card in my back pocket. “We’re on our way to meet someone, but you have a nice day.”
“You too, darlings! Love is love!”
Emory smiled so wide as we carried on down the street he was practically glowing.
“What is it?” I asked.
He shook his head. “I just feel so…” He grabbed a handful of my shirt and tugged me down. His lips brushed mine, and he sighed. “I can have this here, and no one cares.”
A sharp whistle cut through the air.
“Free show!” Allison called.
Marty laughed. “God, I’m the fifth wheel. Someone put me out of my misery now.”
Emory turned with an apologetic smile. “Sorry you couldn’t bring Sasha. I wasn’t sure…”
Marty waved it off. “I don’t think we’re there yet, anyway. I’m just going to console myself with as many jelly-filled doughnuts as possible.”
“Marty has a real taste for Glazed Holes,” Allison said, waggling her eyebrows.
“Don’t make it sound likethat,” he protested.
“That’s the whole point,” she said. “The owners are a total riot.”
Matteo rubbed the back of his neck, looking a little uncomfortable. “I don’t think I’ve ever had a man eye my ass so hard.”
I let the obvious joke slide by.
Matteo obviously hadn’t been paying attention to where Bailey’s gaze went the last time he was at the auto shop. My brother was lusting hard over Matteo’s fine figure. Probably best not to mention that in front of his girlfriend, though.
Emory turned to watch the parade go by. Ahead of the dogs, there were floats covered in blooms—like the Rose Parade, but on a much, much smaller scale. The festival was funny, because goldenrods looked more like a weed than a flower with a tall stem and clusters of little yellow blossoms. But it was the Nebraska state flower, and the folks in Granville had gone all out to embrace it.
Emory pointed. “Oh my god, check out the little schnauzer with the goldenrod headband. Maybe we should have brought Axel along.”
