Page 23 of Sipping Seduction
“What was she doing eating seafood salad if she’s allergic to shellfish?” Maybe the more important question was what kind of reputable restaurant in landlocked Tennessee would have the confidence to serve a seafood salad in the first place.
“Geez, Evan. When’s the last time you visited the Catfish Corral? They’ve got a great seafood salad with salmon and crab.”
“Isn’t crab considered a shellfish, too? Maybe she was allergic to the crab and not the shrimp.”
“It’s not real crab. They make it from some kind of white fish. Why are we still talking about this? Is it James or someone else?” She sounded frustrated, and I didn’t blame her. I was getting a little irritated at our lack of progress as well.
“It’s not James, but I can’t tell you who. He wants it to be a surprise and you can’t keep a secret to save your life.”
She might try to deny it, but it was true.
“Fine. You’ve got two options. There’s a place on the north end of the valley called Market that’s supposed to be opening in a month, and another on the south end called Tommy’s. Both of them are good, but if you want something with a more romantic ambience, go for Market.”
“Thanks. I’ll tell him.” Romantic ambience definitely sounded like something Andrew Fucking Stewart would have in mind.
“Who is she?” Ruby asked.
“Who’s who?” I’d gotten what I needed thanks to my little sis. It was time to hang up and figure out what I was going to do with the hard-won information.
“The girl you want to take to Market?”
“I thought you were out with friends and needed to get going. Besides, it’s not for me, it’s for a friend.” Ruby was a lot easier to get along with when she was younger. As the only girl in a family with four older brothers, she’d been pretty sheltered as a kid since we all looked out for her. Once my younger brother Miller went away to college, Ruby didn’t have anyone being overly protective, so she came out of her shell and we hadn’t been able to stuff her back in since.
“Mm-hmm. You don’t have any friends who would think to ask you of all people for a restaurant recommendation, but nice try. Let me know if you need help picking out something appropriate to wear. They won’t let you in the door of that place without a tie, and I know you’ve never mastered the art of tying one the right way.”
“I’ll pass that along as well. Thanks, Ruby. Gotta go. I’ll see you at Mom and Dad’s tomorrow night for dinner.” I disconnected before she could press me for any other info. Damn. Why did everything have to remind me of Frannie? Even Ruby’s mention of not being able to tie my own tie brought up memories. I could still picture the look on Frannie’s face when she’d tried to help me with my tie the night of our eighth-grade choir concert. Her dad had taught her how to tie a proper Windsor knot, and even at fourteen, she was much better at it than any of our classmates. She’d fixed all the guys’ ties except mine. Even then, I was too damn proud to let her help me.
Armed with the knowledge that Frannie was probably sitting down to dinner at a place called Market, I paced the length of my family room and tried to figure out what to do. Spying on her would be a bad idea. If I’d been flirting with crossing the line into stalker territory before, showing up at a restaurant where she was having dinner with a date would put me squarely in the center of having lost my mind.
But it wasn’t just any date. It was the third date. And she’d expressly told me not to wait up. I’d been okay when she was just casually seeing someone. Now I’d met the guy and despite his unfortunate bloodline, he didn’t seem all that bad.
“What do we do, Pete the Dog?” I stopped in front of the couch where the dog had made himself at home on top of one of Frannie’s prized quilts. “You’d better get off of there.”
His eyebrows lifted, and he followed me with his eyes as I tried to pull the quilt out from under him.
“She’s not going to like it if you get dog hair all over Grandma Masterson’s handiwork.” It wasn’t like Frannie to leave something so special lying around like that. She must have been distracted by her big date and forgotten to take it to the bedroom. I rolled the dog’s back end to one side and worked the quilt free. Then I did the same with his upper body.
Pete the Dog refused to make eye contact as I folded the quilt.
“You could have helped me out, you know.” I left him lounging on the couch while I took the quilt into the bedroom I’d set up for Frannie. It felt like I was invading her personal space when I entered the room. She’d closed the blinds while she was getting ready, so the only light filtering into the room came from the hall. I tried to keep my gaze limited to a few feet in front of me, afraid of seeing something I wouldn’t be able to unsee later. All I needed was to catch a glimpse of her underwear and end up with blue balls all night.
My bedroom had a walk-in closet, but this one had annoying doors that slid back and forth on a track. I pushed the door to the side so I could tuck the quilt up on the shelf. Instead of easily sliding over, it got stuck.
“Dammit.” I’d been hoping to get in and out without disturbing anything. I set the quilt on the edge of the bed so I could use both hands to get the door back in line. With a little grunting and a few curse words, I finally had it moving freely again.
That’s when I turned to pick up the quilt from the bed. I grabbed hold of it and stuffed it up onto the shelf in the closet. It would be safe there until Frannie decided what she wanted to do with it. As I moved to close the closet door, something fell to the ground. I reached down and picked up a medium-sized box. It must have been knocked off the shelf when I slid the quilt in place.
It had a little weight to it, but the box wasn’t very sturdy. I flipped on the lamp sitting on the nightstand to get a better look. My mouth watered as I recognized the logo of my favorite store-bought snack when I was a kid. I thought Frannie had given up carbs, but she had a secret stash of moon pies hidden in the closet. Thinking I’d teach her a lesson about not leaving sweets sitting around, I slid the top open and reached inside.
My fingers felt around for the familiar crinkle of plastic. Instead, I touched something rubbery. What the hell. I dumped the box out on the bed. A thick pink dildo slid onto the comforter, and I stared down at it in shock.
Frannie Masterson had a vibrator. The principal of Beaver Bluff Elementary owned a battery-operated boyfriend.
I didn’t know whether to laugh out loud or shove it back in the box and try to bleach the knowledge from my brain. So I did a little bit of both. Of course, I’d seen dildos before. I’d just never thought of Frannie owning one. I pressed the big pink dick against my hand and turned it on. It buzzed a little. Pretty lame for a sex toy.
There was another button below that one, so I pressed it to see what it would do. The whole shaft swirled around like a hula dancer in slow motion. Pressing the button again increased the speed of the swirl and also the intensity of the buzzing. Pete the Dog must have heard it from the other room because he came in to check things out.
“What do you think about this?” I pressed the button again, wondering just how far the little pink toy would go. It was already moving and buzzing at warp speed. If it went any faster, it might take off from my hand and shoot across the room.
