Page 13 of His Candy Cane (Sweet Treats 1)

“Are you going for the lumberjack look?” I ask. “Or how about a mountain man?”

He chuckles, slinging an arm around my shoulder as we head to his car.

“Lumberjack, definitely,” he growls. “How’d you like to see my big ax, pretty girl?”

I giggle as he opens the car door for me, and slip in. When he’s set on his side of the car, I turn to him.

“I’d love to see your axe, Mr. Lumberjack. Care to show it to me?” I coo with sparkles in my eyes.

And to my delight, despite the fact that we’re parked in front of my parents’ house, Patrick unzips his fly with a sly grin and pulls it out. Of course, my mouth goes dry because he’s absolutely huge, even in the cold. That enormous ten incher is thick around the base and as I watch, it straightens in his lap, begging to be licked.

“Oh I want it,” I breathe, already leaning forward and ducking my head. But Patrick is quick. He slips it back in and zips up within seconds, shooting me a knowing look.

“I know my little girl likes Daddy’s candy cane, but you’re not getting it right now. We can’t do it in front of your parents’ house because that would be asking for it. Plus, have you been a good girl for Santa this year? I hope so because we’re going to see St. Nick now.”

With that, he revs the car and we’re off to the neighborhood where the Festival of Lights takes place. I’m disappointed but happy too because I know Patrick will share his huge tool with me later tonight. With another smile, I seize my lovers’ hand as we drive, and he turns to smile at me in turn. My heart flowers and bursts open because never have I been so elated. I’m with the man I love, and this date is going to be wonderful.

9

Patrick

Maisie is so innocent that I have to be careful because I don’t want to get her in trouble. She’s sweet and true, and while I love that about her, there’s also an air of girlish naivete to her. For example, I thought she was going to go down on me right there while we were parked in front of her parents’ home. Sure, it was already 8 p.m., but it wasn’t dark yet. As a result, anyone could have seen us, potentially creating a sticky situation

Plus, I don’t think that Maisie realizes this, but most parents don’t want their daughters to marry a personal trainer. It’s for good reason because we don’t have stable jobs. We’re essentially freelancers, working on an “as needed” basis most of the time. As a result, our income is uncertain, and most of my compatriots aren’t saving for retirement or putting money aside for their kids’ college expenses. We’re lucky just to be living paycheck to paycheck most of the time.

But my situation is a little different because I own Mr. P’s CrossFit. As a small business owner, I’m able to purchase regular health insurance, and I also have a recurring stream of revenue from the gym memberships I sell, and from the trainers who pay me a percentage of their fees to see clients at my gym. Not only that, but the entrepreneurial bug has gotten me and I’m looking into starting my own health supplements brand. Why not? Nutrition is very much a part of my work, and supplements are a way to make sure you’re getting the right vitamins, minerals, and other compounds needed in order to lead a healthy life.

But for now, from the outside it probably looks like I’m a small business owner hanging by a thread economically. I still see clients one-on-one, so people don’t realize that I’ve moved onto becoming a business mogul. Women that I’ve dated don’t mind, but their parents are generally wary, and I can understand why. Moms and dads want their daughters to marry well, and a guy who’s in the process of building a business doesn’t have a lot of spare cash around.

But that’s one of the things that I adore about Maisie. She doesn’t care about money, which is obvious because she works as a vet tech, which pays a pittance. On top of that, my woman is saving money to donate to the ASPCA because she loves animals and cares about their welfare. Plus, she’s okay with doing cheap things like seeing the Festival of Lights, which is essentially free. There are no fancy dinners or Broadway shows in our simple life together; there’s only love, happiness, and mutual adoration.

Which is why when I pull up to the corners of Tremont and Edgeworth, I have a special smile for her.

“Ready?” I ask.

Maisie is staring out the car window, her mouth agape in awe of the flashing lights up and down Tremont.

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