Page 1 of Pining for Porter
Chapter 1
Stella
"Oh my, she has pie!"
Joy Munson's sing-song voice greets us as my best friend, Monroe, follows me through the front door of theMaple Ridge General Store & Corn Maze.
"Yes, ma'am, she does," Monroe agrees, setting her stack of boxes on the counter with a little huff of exertion. She smooths her retro skirt over her curvy body, and plops onto the nearest stool. Monroe's eyes light up when Joy hands her a cider donut. I arrange the boxes based on flavor of pie.
Joy and her late husband, Gus, opened theMaple Ridge General Storeearly in their marriage, adding the corn maze about five years after that. Now, in her late sixties, Joy runs the town staple on her own. A framed photo of Gus hangs on the wall behind the cash register.
"The packaging is gorgeous, Stella. When are you going to open your own shop, dear?" Joy asks me kindly. "I love getting these once a week, but I sell out within an hour. Your pies are like nothing I've ever tasted."
"I keep telling her, it's time," Monroe agrees around a mouthful of donut.
"I paid for a table at the festival," I admit in a whisper, grinning when Joy claps her hands and does a little hop of excitement. I'm not sure why I'm nervous to talk about the pie shop with other people. I think a part of me believes that if I say my dream out loud it might float away forever, and then I'll be left with nothing.
Well, not nothing.
There is one other vivid dream involving a hunky mountain man who barely acknowledges I exist. The pie shop is less of a long shot.
Can pie keep us warm at night? my horny vag argues.
"Well done, Stella." Joy's gentle voice breaks me out of my steamy thoughts. "I'll keep my ears open to see if any storefronts are coming vacant soon. Sweetie Potter was complaining the other day about needing to find a new location. She certainly doesn't need a full kitchen to sell tea."
Joy's enthusiasm is infectious, and my heart soars for a moment with the possibilities. Sweetie's shop would be perfect, but I bite my lip and shake my head. "No, I'm not ready for that yet."
Before Joy or Monroe can argue with me, the bell over the door jingles, and in walks Wayne Peters followed closely by Martha Jackson, who helps the eighty-four-year-old man navigate his walker over the front step.
"Thank you, Martha," Wayne says. "Can't wait to be done with this gall-dang contraption. The doctor says two more weeks and then I can move to a cane."
"Glad to see you out of the house, Wayne. Those hip surgeries are a bear," Martha says warmly. Wayne nods, grumbling about doctors and medical insurance as he plods toward the produce aisle.
Martha turns to Joy with a glint in her eyes. "Do I have some news for you, my friend."
I gaze out the front window as Martha spills town gossip to Joy, and my breath catches when Porter Sommers walks by.
Is it already eleven?
A quick glance at my watch shows me that I'm going to be late for work. Luckily, I baked three extra pies last night for the afternoon crowd today, so hopefully Mitzie will forgive my tardiness.
"Uh oh, Stella. You better get going. You might miss your boyfriend today," Monroe teases me, and I shush her, glancing over to make sure Martha and Joy didn't hear. I don't need my grumpy mountain man catching wind that I'm mooning over him. Even though I am.
I've only lived in Maple Ridge for eight months, but I visited Monroe, who has been my best friend since freshman year of college, countless times over the years. We were both finance majors and bonded over dealing with the stereotypical bros in all our classes. After graduating, Monroe moved back to her hometown and got a job working remotely for an insurance company. I worked as a data analyst in the city for almost nine years, and I loved it for the first few years, but then the shine wore off. It was hard to make friends, and I didn't love my job like I hoped I would.
A year ago this weekend, Monroe invited me out for the Maple Ridge Fall Festival,and I fell in love with the town. I decided to get off the corporate hamster wheel for good. Took me about four months to plan and save up as much as I could, but a week before my thirtieth birthday, I loaded up my car and never looked back.
My second day in town, I ran smack into Porter at the hardware store. He grabbed my hand to help me up, and the crackle of electricity coursing through my bodywas...exhilarating. That man's touch lit me up from the inside out that day. It was love at first sight for me. And for Porter? Well, he grunted an apology and left me standing there staring after him like a love-sick teenager.
I didn't see him again until I got the job atMitzie's Diner. Every Wednesday, Porter sits in my section. He orders a slice of pie, a cup of coffee, and then leaves without a second glance my way. He's not rude exactly, just completely oblivious to my undying love and general existence. Which is a little rude, now that I think about it. Although, the thought of him having even an inkling of an idea about my crush on him makes me want to crawl into a hole until the end of time.
"Stella, have you met my nephew, Christopher?"
The sound of Martha's voice startles me from my thoughts, and I’m surprised to find both women staring at me with trouble in their eyes.
"Oh no, ladies," I say hurriedly, warding off the Chatty Cathies as quickly as I can, as Monroe hides a grin. "I don't need any help with my dating life; thank you."
"There's an awful lot of leaves on the ground, Stella. You might not have a choice in the matter," Joy says, and I stare at her blankly.
