Page 58 of Next in Line
I pull back and smile awkwardly. “I mean, he didn’t just give it to me. I’ve been buying him out. And it’s just a tire store, but it’s exciting. I’ve been working for this for a long time.”
“It’s not just a tire store,” she retorts, giving me a playful shove. “It’s Tire Depot, home of the famous erotic romance novelist, Mercedes Lee Loveletter!”
Her use of Kate’s pen name has me throwing my head back in laughter. “Damn right. I forgot we’re basically famous in the romance reader world.”
“Your cookies and exceptional service are famous,” Maggie replies, bobbing her head from side to side and offering her own little victory dance that makes me laugh.
“So what are you doing here anyway?” I ask, releasing her from the comfort of my arms. “Did you come to tell me in person what you were wearing?”
Maggie’s cheeks flush as she holds up a to-go bag. “I was in line for sandwiches when you were texting me. It’s been a few days since I saw you, and since I’m now “feeling better,” she says with finger quotes, “I decided to bring you some lunch as a thank you for taking such good care of me this weekend.”
She shows me the logo on the side of the Yellow Deli sandwich bag, and I lift my brows in appreciation. “Hey, I’m just glad you’re feeling better,” I reply with a playful waggle of my brows. “It was a lot of work taking care of you.”
“Thank you so much for your sacrifice.” She giggles, tipping her chin up with a smile so adorable that I can’t help but lower my head and taste it. My tongue feels like it’s operating on muscle memory as it instantly slips past her lips and tangles with hers, massaging it in sexy, unhindered strokes. The sandwich bag is smashed between our chests as my hands glide around her waist and pull her body tightly against mine. She moans her appreciation, and I’d be lying if I didn’t admit to thinking about how easy it would be to fuck her on this empty desk right here, right now and find out what color bra she has on with my own damn eyes.
A familiar voice suddenly booms down the hallway. “Sam, you son of a bitch!”
Maggie and I shoot apart like a couple of teenagers caught by their parents just as Miles bursts through the door with a big, dopey smile on his face. His eyes land on Maggie and then his brow crinkles in confusion. “Meg, what are you doing here?”
Maggie’s eyes nearly bug out of her head as she rushes over and thrusts the food sack into her brother’s unsuspecting hands. “I brought you guys sandwiches.”
“You did? Score!” Miles takes the bag and moves past Maggie over to the empty chair in front of my desk. I discreetly find my way to the other side of the desk to conceal the situation that happened to pop up while Maggie and I were kissing.
Maggie grips the doorknob and barks out in clipped tones, “It was a thank you for Sam bringing me soup this weekend.” Her voice sounds like a fucking robot, and I try to smile at her to get her to relax a little.
“Aw, Megs, that’s nice of you!” Miles replies with a hearty thumbs up. “But you really didn’t have to. I just found out this fucker is my official boss now, so he can afford to buy his own damn lunch.”
I narrow my eyes at my supposed best friend. “Since I’m your boss now, does that mean I get to pick which sandwich I want?” My tone is flat because, in the back of my mind, I’m thinking about how much I’d rather be eating this food with Maggie instead of her brother.
“No way, man,” Miles replies with a wink and begins digging into the bag. “But that doesn’t mean we’re not celebrating tomorrow night after you finish your first official day flying solo!”
“Yeah? What’d you have in mind?” I ask, rubbing the back of my neck awkwardly because I’d already been brainstorming of ways to see Maggie all week long.
“You, Me, Kate, and Megs. Pearl Street pub crawl. We need to celebrate this momentous achievement for you.”
“Sounds fun!” Maggie exclaims and then flicks an awkward wave in our direction. “I’d better be going. See you tomorrow, Sam!”
“Thanks for the sandwich, Maggie,” I state, wistfully checking her ass out as she walks away.
When I look at my best friend in front of me, who literally has yellow mustard on his chin, my boner from earlier slinks away in defeat. We eat our sandwiches and map out our plans for tomorrow night, but as soon as Miles leaves my office, I realize that I can’t wait until tomorrow to see Maggie. I bust out my phone and shoot her a text.
Me: Have your snowsuit with you?
Sparky: Is this more sexting? Cuz I gotta say, I think you’re bad at it.
Me: Mind out of the gutter, Sparky. Answer the question.
Sparky: Yes, the snowsuit is in my trunk…why?
Me: I’m taking the afternoon off. Meet me at Marv’s in twenty minutes.
A huge smile is stuck on my face as I head out to Marv’s, which could be flipping Disney World based on how happy I feel right now. But fucking hell, today has been a great day, and I want to embrace it. I’m taking over Tire Depot, my plans to expand with Miles by my side are moving forward, and I get a rare Thursday afternoon off to go ice fishing. Life is fucking good.
When I walk into Marv’s Bait and Tackle, Maggie is already inside, decked out in her adorable red and white snowsuit and hunched over a tank of minnows as she has Marv in complete stitches. Honestly, I didn’t even know Marv knew how to laugh. I sort of just figured his face was stuck in a permanent wrinkly scowl, but Maggie chatting his ear off clearly indicates otherwise.
As I walk toward her, I have flashbacks of the first time I saw her in here and how out of place she seemed then. Now, she looks like one of the guys…with a really hot ass and sexy long dark hair sticking out from her stocking cap.
When I move to stand beside Maggie, Marv is positively howling with laughter. It’s a strange smoker’s chortle that makes me worry about how many years he has left on this earth.
