Page 24 of Afternoon Delight
A twinkle entered his blue eyes. He crossed his arms and rocked on his heels.
“Here I thought you’d be so busy receiving packages, you wouldn’t have time to dust.”
“You’re about to ask me where I receive those packages, aren’t you?” I was fighting back a bubble of mirth. “Front of the store. That’s why I’m doing all that maintenance. Keeping things in good working order.”
“Quality assurance.”
“Exactly. No shame in that.” My bravado was thinning along with my voice. My face was on fire. It took everything in me to hold his laughing blue gaze.
“Why would you be ashamed? It’s more of an obligation to those who... Hmm.” He winced. “I was going to say ‘come through the door,’ but...” He winced in dissatisfaction.
“I appreciate how hard you wordsmith your comebacks.”
“Now you’re just talking dirty for the sake of it.”
We were both struggling not to break, but the air was crackling in a way I hadn’t felt since I don’t know when. It was like being tipsy and stoned and horny all at once.
He glanced away, biting the corner of his crooked grin.
“So where did you really get it?” I asked. “The magazine.”
“Hmm? Oh. An estate sale. There was a stack in one of the nightstands. I haven’t read the articles in that one yet.”
“Then how are you staying abreast of current events?” I dropped my jaw in mock discovery. “Do you think that’s where the expression comes from?”
“Abreast? Gotta be.”
We were both openly grinning now. Damn it, I really liked him.
“This does class up the basket, doesn’t it?” I busied myself tucking the magazine behind the wine glasses. “Do you want anything for it?”
“Just the right to come talk to you when I’m bored.”
“Is that why you’re here now?”
“Yeah. Dad fell asleep and I found myself researching what mermaids eat.”
“Are you thinking of getting one? Goldfish are quieter.”
“Sirens are the noisy ones. I always thought they were the same as mermaids, but they’re different—half bird. Did you know that?”
“Oh, dear. Boredom that acute could result in serious injury or death. Look, there’s no price of admission here. C—” Don’t say it. “Come anytime. I won’t make you buy anything.”
“No? Why not? I’m curious.” His gaze wandered to the shelf I’d labeled Penis Pleasure. “I’ve never really played with toys. My ex had a vibrator, but that was for her ‘me time.’ Where do you even start?”
Mom had tried to set up His and Hers sections, but I switched it to labels that were less binary. The clit stims and vaginal vibrators were under Joie de Vulva. There was an All Things Anal shelf and one called Knick Knacks for Nipples.
“In this store, you start by allowing a novice like me to ask you a bunch of intimate questions. When you’re really lucky, my mom is right there.” I pointed to the floor next to my foot. “I was helping a customer choose a strap-on harness and Mom was humming Innocence. Harlequin,” I added when his brows came together.
“I’ll have that song stuck in my head all day now. Thanks. Did the customer notice?”
“No. Mom’s off-key as hell. But I’m always trying to make a connection with them. Kind of like what you suggested. I tell them about my own experience—of which I have none—so that’s a pretty short conversation. I’m dying to ask if they’ll report back, but that’s gross, right? ‘Enjoy your butt plug. Call me with a postgame.’”
“I’ll do it. I’m serious,” he insisted when I sputtered a laugh. “Sell me something. I’ll let you know if it does anything for me.”
“I’m not going to make you buy a toy just so I can get better at selling them.”
“Why not? I’m not Mr. Gates, but I’ve worked for his competitors. I can afford a couple of toys, especially if it’ll benefit humanity.”
