Well Built
Page 30
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Ella shook her head at her friend’s amusing quip. It had only been a week since Nolan and Claire had gone out on their first date, and things between them were already hot and heavy. They weren’t dating exclusively yet, but in a small town like Woodmont, where single, intelligent, and good-looking men were limited, Claire had decided that Nolan would do just fine. Which meant she was getting laid on a regular basis and quite happy about it since, according to her, Nolan wasn’t a slouch in the bedroom. Lucky her.
Ella was both happy for and envious of her friend because after one extremely hot and erotic night with Kyle last weekend, her battery-operated boyfriend didn’t even come close to satisfying the ache that pulsed between her legs when she thought of Kyle’s talented hands and mouth on her body and all the decadent ways he’d made her come. Her bed was cold and lonely, and unfortunately, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
With a sigh, Ella finished clearing off a row of shelves near one of the cash registers in her mission to make room where she could to carry a few select specialty items for now. She was forced to be extra discerning about what products to offer at the market, and she hated that she had to pick and choose from the great list of local artisans, when she’d thought she’d have space galore to showcase all the different and unique goods she knew her customers would enjoy.
“So, I was thinking,” Claire said as she dusted off the shelves with a rag. “It’s been a while since you and I have had some girl time, and you’ve been a little, okay, a lot down in the dumps after everything that happened with Kyle last weekend, so what do you say we head over to the Roadhouse after work tonight? Have a few drinks and dance and just have a good time?”
The Roadhouse was on the outskirts of town and was a known pickup joint. It had been years since Ella had been there, but their only other option would be going to the movies at their one and only theater that was currently showing an outdated action-adventure flick or spending a few hours at the small bowling alley.
“What about Nolan?” Ella asked as she opened up a box containing jars of the most delicious handcrafted strawberry-rhubarb jam that she’d ever tasted, which Marylou Weber made from the fruits she grew in her own garden. “It’s Saturday night, which is prime time for hooking up. Hard to imagine you giving up the opportunity to get laid.”
“Meh, Nolan will survive without me for the evening.” Claire thought about that for a moment, then grinned. “Or I can always make a booty call when you and I are done having our girls’ night.” She waggled her brows.
Great. So Claire would finish the night with a few orgasms, and she’d go home and . . . Ella shook her head of the depressing thought. She didn’t even want to think about how pathetically her evening would end.
The last thing she wanted to do was go to the local bar, but staying at home and wallowing over things she couldn’t change wasn’t helping her mood any, either. At the very least, a drink or two would help her fall asleep easier when she finally fell into bed—by herself.
“Okay, I’ll give Betsy a call and see if she can stay a few extra hours tonight with my dad.” Which was never a problem. Ella honestly believed that the two of them, despite their occasional squabbles or disagreements, actually enjoyed each other’s company.
For the next few hours, Ella worked on product placement at the front of the store. She added jars of raw honey from a local gentleman who raised honeybees on his farm. Her two favorite flavors were the lavender and orange blossom honeys, and she’d promised the older man that she’d carry more of a variety if they sold well.
After a while, she noticed that everything next door had grown quiet. No more jarring sounds of thumping and banging and clattering coming through the adjoining wall as they knocked down partitions and old beams and dragged debris out of the building. Claire had gone back to the office to work on payroll, and Ella cast a curious glance back out the front windows and saw that the guys had stopped working to eat lunch. Four of the men were sitting beneath a shade tree on the grass, while four other guys, including Kyle, were hanging out at the tailgate of his truck.
It was a warm day out, and as Claire had mentioned earlier, the men were hot and sweaty. They were drinking from water bottles as they ate what looked like sandwiches that someone had made and packed for them, while talking and laughing and relaxing for a short bit before they got back to work.
When Kyle had arrived early this morning, she’d been outside the store watering the pots of flowers on the sidewalk. He hadn’t come over, had just given a quick wave in her direction to acknowledge her before getting to work with his crew. Unlike Ella, who’d stolen surreptitious glances at Kyle through the window as the hours passed, not once had she caught him looking over at the store for her. And as stupid as it was, she was ridiculously annoyed by the ease with which he seemed to be able to avoid her. Then again, what did she expect after insisting they be just friends?
She wasn’t spontaneous by nature, but in that moment, she decided to do something impulsive. Heading to the coolers where the drinks were kept to chill, she grabbed two six-packs of butterscotch beer, a non-alcoholic soda handcrafted by a guy the next town over. It was one of the market’s bestsellers, along with the delicious cream soda he made.
She grabbed a few of the guy’s business cards and slipped them into her back pocket, then walked out of the store with her peace offering and headed toward Kyle’s truck. As she neared, Kyle and the three other men glanced in her direction, and she put on a nice, hospitable, welcoming smile.
“Hey, Ella,” Kyle said, his tone polite but irritatingly reserved—and she hated that he was being so cordial. As if he hadn’t seen her naked or spent hours touching every single inch of her body or heard her shamelessly scream his name when she’d climaxed from the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever experienced.
She exhaled and reminded herself that Kyle’s lack of enthusiasm was her own doing. That he was merely abiding by the friendship rules she’d established between them before leaving the city a week ago. It was difficult to fault him for that, yet she couldn’t deny that it made her feel more than a little disheartened.
“Hey, guys. Thought you’d like something other than water to drink with your lunch.” She lifted up the two six-packs and explained what the bottles of soda were and set the two cartons down on the tailgate next to where Kyle was sitting, then added the business cards from her pocket. “And just in case you like it, here’s the vendor’s information. He makes weekly deliveries into the city.”
Ella was both happy for and envious of her friend because after one extremely hot and erotic night with Kyle last weekend, her battery-operated boyfriend didn’t even come close to satisfying the ache that pulsed between her legs when she thought of Kyle’s talented hands and mouth on her body and all the decadent ways he’d made her come. Her bed was cold and lonely, and unfortunately, that wasn’t going to change anytime soon.
With a sigh, Ella finished clearing off a row of shelves near one of the cash registers in her mission to make room where she could to carry a few select specialty items for now. She was forced to be extra discerning about what products to offer at the market, and she hated that she had to pick and choose from the great list of local artisans, when she’d thought she’d have space galore to showcase all the different and unique goods she knew her customers would enjoy.
“So, I was thinking,” Claire said as she dusted off the shelves with a rag. “It’s been a while since you and I have had some girl time, and you’ve been a little, okay, a lot down in the dumps after everything that happened with Kyle last weekend, so what do you say we head over to the Roadhouse after work tonight? Have a few drinks and dance and just have a good time?”
The Roadhouse was on the outskirts of town and was a known pickup joint. It had been years since Ella had been there, but their only other option would be going to the movies at their one and only theater that was currently showing an outdated action-adventure flick or spending a few hours at the small bowling alley.
“What about Nolan?” Ella asked as she opened up a box containing jars of the most delicious handcrafted strawberry-rhubarb jam that she’d ever tasted, which Marylou Weber made from the fruits she grew in her own garden. “It’s Saturday night, which is prime time for hooking up. Hard to imagine you giving up the opportunity to get laid.”
“Meh, Nolan will survive without me for the evening.” Claire thought about that for a moment, then grinned. “Or I can always make a booty call when you and I are done having our girls’ night.” She waggled her brows.
Great. So Claire would finish the night with a few orgasms, and she’d go home and . . . Ella shook her head of the depressing thought. She didn’t even want to think about how pathetically her evening would end.
The last thing she wanted to do was go to the local bar, but staying at home and wallowing over things she couldn’t change wasn’t helping her mood any, either. At the very least, a drink or two would help her fall asleep easier when she finally fell into bed—by herself.
“Okay, I’ll give Betsy a call and see if she can stay a few extra hours tonight with my dad.” Which was never a problem. Ella honestly believed that the two of them, despite their occasional squabbles or disagreements, actually enjoyed each other’s company.
For the next few hours, Ella worked on product placement at the front of the store. She added jars of raw honey from a local gentleman who raised honeybees on his farm. Her two favorite flavors were the lavender and orange blossom honeys, and she’d promised the older man that she’d carry more of a variety if they sold well.
After a while, she noticed that everything next door had grown quiet. No more jarring sounds of thumping and banging and clattering coming through the adjoining wall as they knocked down partitions and old beams and dragged debris out of the building. Claire had gone back to the office to work on payroll, and Ella cast a curious glance back out the front windows and saw that the guys had stopped working to eat lunch. Four of the men were sitting beneath a shade tree on the grass, while four other guys, including Kyle, were hanging out at the tailgate of his truck.
It was a warm day out, and as Claire had mentioned earlier, the men were hot and sweaty. They were drinking from water bottles as they ate what looked like sandwiches that someone had made and packed for them, while talking and laughing and relaxing for a short bit before they got back to work.
When Kyle had arrived early this morning, she’d been outside the store watering the pots of flowers on the sidewalk. He hadn’t come over, had just given a quick wave in her direction to acknowledge her before getting to work with his crew. Unlike Ella, who’d stolen surreptitious glances at Kyle through the window as the hours passed, not once had she caught him looking over at the store for her. And as stupid as it was, she was ridiculously annoyed by the ease with which he seemed to be able to avoid her. Then again, what did she expect after insisting they be just friends?
She wasn’t spontaneous by nature, but in that moment, she decided to do something impulsive. Heading to the coolers where the drinks were kept to chill, she grabbed two six-packs of butterscotch beer, a non-alcoholic soda handcrafted by a guy the next town over. It was one of the market’s bestsellers, along with the delicious cream soda he made.
She grabbed a few of the guy’s business cards and slipped them into her back pocket, then walked out of the store with her peace offering and headed toward Kyle’s truck. As she neared, Kyle and the three other men glanced in her direction, and she put on a nice, hospitable, welcoming smile.
“Hey, Ella,” Kyle said, his tone polite but irritatingly reserved—and she hated that he was being so cordial. As if he hadn’t seen her naked or spent hours touching every single inch of her body or heard her shamelessly scream his name when she’d climaxed from the most exquisite pleasure she’d ever experienced.
She exhaled and reminded herself that Kyle’s lack of enthusiasm was her own doing. That he was merely abiding by the friendship rules she’d established between them before leaving the city a week ago. It was difficult to fault him for that, yet she couldn’t deny that it made her feel more than a little disheartened.
“Hey, guys. Thought you’d like something other than water to drink with your lunch.” She lifted up the two six-packs and explained what the bottles of soda were and set the two cartons down on the tailgate next to where Kyle was sitting, then added the business cards from her pocket. “And just in case you like it, here’s the vendor’s information. He makes weekly deliveries into the city.”
