112 Bliss Blvd. (A Cherry Falls Romance) Read online

  He gives me that half-smile again, but his time it isn’t filled with warmth, it’s a smile that says he doesn’t quite believe me.

  “Good,” he says. “Because the date tonight is going to be a good one.”

  Chapter Five

  Grant

  I finish fixing the cam shaft in Holt’s Ford by five o’clock, and leave the shop in a hurry. After putting my foot in my mouth twice this morning with Goldie, the last thing I want to do is be late for our date. Still, I stop in at the Flower Patch to grab a bouquet. “Maybe pink roses?”

  The co-owner Gracie Price gives me a wide-eyed smile. “Roses? For who?”

  This is the issue with small towns. Everyone knows everything.

  “Uh, my date.” I’ve never been good at lying.

  “A date?” She leans closer. “With who?”

  I figure after tonight, half the town will already have seen us together, so I tell it to Gracie like it is. “Goldie Greyhound. She moved into her grandma’s theater.”

  “Oh my gosh, isn’t she a gem?”

  “You know her?”

  “I know everyone.” Then she laughs. “She came in yesterday. Introduced herself and put a sign in the window. Auditions for her play are next week.”

  As Gracie puts the bouquet together, I read Goldie’s flier.

  UPCOMING AUDITIONS FOR FOREVER, YOURS

  An original play written and directed by Goldie Greyhound

  Parts for all ages! At the Greyhound Theater!

  With the flowers in hand, I wave goodbye, then hustle home. After a quick shower, I put on dark jeans and a grey flannel. I want to look good, sure, but I know Goldie is going to outshine me by a mile. And I like it that way. I give Otis some kibble, then check the clock. Right on time.

  I knock on Goldie’s front door, which is actually behind the theater. Music is blasting, but she hears me. “Come in!” she calls out.

  Turning the doorknob, I let myself inside the compact apartment, and set the flowers on the counter as Goldie pops into the kitchen.

  She is half-dressed and damn, she looks good. She has on a black lace bra, and her tits look fucking perfect, pushed up high. She’s wearing black tights that show off her sexy curves, and she’s holding up two dresses.

  “What do you think? Blue or brown?”

  “They both look good,” I tell her, too distracted by her skin to focus on clothing.

  “But what’s the vibe? The blue one is dressier, so I’d wear boots with heels, and the brown one only looks good with my knee-high moccasins.”

  I smile, having never in my life met a woman like Goldie. So damn comfortable with who she is. “Brown then. We will be walking.”

  She beams. “Perfect.” She turns back to the bedroom, but then her head darts back out. “Oh my god, those flowers are beautiful. Did Gracie make that bouquet?”

  I chuckle. She’s been here two days and is on a first-name basis with the florist. Maybe she will fit into this town better than I thought.

  “Yes, she put it together.”

  Goldie comes out of the bedroom with brown leather moccasins in hand, now fully dressed. “Pink roses? She knows me well.”

  I smile, glad I got something right, then look in the cupboard for a vase. I figure if she’s acting this comfortable with me, I can step it up. I find one on a high shelf, and fill it with water, then add the flowers.

  “You ready?” I ask, turning to her as she pulls on yet another winter coat. This one is a thick black wool with fringe on the arms, hitting her hips.

  She spins, showing me her backside. The back of the coat is embroidered with pink roses and the words, MEANT TO BE. “See, pink roses are my favorite.” She steps toward me, her strawberry hair cascading around her shoulders, her bangs swept to the side. “Hope I was worth the wait, Grant Blake.”

  I smile, taking her hand. “The date is off to a good start. You were half-dressed when I walked in the door. I feel like that’s a good sign.”

  She laughs, stepping closer. She pulls on my jacket, drawing herself to me. “It was a hint. I wanted to be sure you knew I didn’t want to be in the friend zone.”

  “You saying I’ve taken too long to kiss you?” I ask.

  She shrugs ever so slightly. “Maybe.”

  I squeeze her ass, drawing her closer still. She whimpers. She wants this. Wants me.

  Then I brush back her hair, breathing into her ear, a strand of her hair wrapped around my fingers. “Well, I’m gonna make you wait a little longer, Goldilocks.”

  The drive to Kissme Bay is fraught with sexual tension. And I meant for it. Sure, I could have kissed her then and there in the kitchen, hell we didn’t even need to leave her place tonight — but I wanted to. I have a feeling deep inside me that Goldie showed up at my shop for a reason. Like she belongs here, with me, and I don’t want to rush this. Ruin it.

  I’ve never felt the way I do when I am around Goldie. Like I could be hers. Yes, we are different in nearly every possible way, but there’s something about her that makes my heart beat fast and my mind race and I see something here. Something special.

  We park in the lot on Diamond Close, across from the Ferris wheel, and her eyes light up. “I saw a flier for this festival! This is perfect.”

  “Yeah? It’s the Kissme Bay Winter Carnival.”

  “Oh, I love it, Grant.” She looks around, her arm wrapped around mine, as we cross the street. There are lights hanging everywhere, music pumping through a loud speaker, and a winter-themed carousel spinning. There is a stand for face painting, and children are getting snowflakes on their faces. People walk around with hot cocoa and the boats in the marina are all lit up with decorations.

  “Cherry Falls has a Christmas parade, but Kissme Bay always waits for the end of January, less competition I figure,” I say.

  “Can we go on the Ferris wheel?” she asks.

  “Of course,” I say, leading the way. The line wraps around Sugar Road. “You warm enough?”

  She nods. “It’s not as cold down here by the bay.”

  “That’s true.” I wrap her scarf more tightly around her neck. “You look cute all bundled up.”

  “Do I look cuter like this, or in my bra and tights?”

  I chuckle. “Is that a trick question?”

  She smiles. “I’m just playing with you.”

  “So, I saw a sign for your play,” I say. “I didn’t realize you were a playwright too. Cherry Falls is lucky to have someone so accomplished in town.”

  Goldie’s cheeks turn pink. “I wouldn’t say accomplished. Trying to make it in Syn City was near impossible. I’ve written five plays and haven’t had one make it to the stage since college.”

  We get to the front of the line and I pay for our tickets. Then we get on the Ferris wheel, and I wrap an arm around Goldie, pulling her close as the ride begins.

  “Why did you wait so long to come and open the Greyhound then?” I ask. “Why did you try to break into the scene in Syn City when you had a theater just waiting for you?”

  “Honestly? I was trying to make it in the big leagues. So…”

  “Coming here is like settling?”

  “That sounds bad. I’m thrilled to be doing this. I am. And how many actors slash directors have a playhouse in their family just waiting to be used? I know how lucky I am. But a lot of my friends think I’m a quitter.”

  “What do you think?” I ask her, trying to understand the beautifully complicated and talented woman beside me.

  “I was sad in Syn City,” she admits. “Felt like a failure constantly. When I’m performing and directing, it’s bliss. When I’m not? It’s like the whole world feels dark. I hated that I couldn’t do the things I love the most. So I got over myself, and came here.”

  I run a hand over Goldie’s cheeks, her eyes on mine. “I’m glad you did, Goldie. Really glad you did.”

  Then I kiss her. Her lips are soft, full, and god, it feels right when they part, and her tongue finds mine. Her fingers thre
ading through my hair and my hand on her hip, needing to touch her.

  On top of the Ferris wheel, Kissme Bay is spread out before us. The lights of the festival sparkle bright, the laughter and music and sweet smells swirl around us, painting the most perfect first kiss.

  One I will never, ever forget.

  Chapter Six

  Goldie

  His kiss is better than I expected — the kind of kiss only a real man can give — and it turns out… a real man has never kissed me before. Because I have never once felt like this… like with his arms around me I don’t need to be scared of the what ifs that life brings. Instead, I can rest safely, knowing I’m not in this alone.

  It’s a lot of emotion for a single kiss, but that’s the sort of woman I have always been.

  All in.

  The wheel starts moving, and the seat we’re in rocks. I grip Grant’s arm. “I got you, Goldie,” he says, squeezing my hand. And there is no doubt he does.

  When we get off the ride, we grab hot chocolate from a vendor, then I see a little tent that piques my interest. “Should we get our palms read?”

  Grant’s eyebrows raise. “If you’re game, sure.”

  We step inside the booth for Madame Lovecraft’s Fortunes. It’s warm and cozy, Moroccan rugs scattered on the floor, a chandelier emitting a soft amber glow. A woman with raven hair greets us warmly.

  “I’m Tabitha,” she says slowly. “And I presume the pair of you would like your palms read?”

  We nod, and she tells Grant to sit on a velvet couch, next to her. I sit opposite them in an armchair, appreciating Grant’s easygoing nature about this. Some guys might make a fuss about it being a hoax but Grant doesn’t appear to be the sort of man who would dismiss something. He listens, he tries. And he is so damn handsome.

  “Let’s see,” Tabitha says, tracing her finger over his open palm. “Your earth line is strong, which means you are grounded. Though you may have a hard time with long-term plans. And your life line is long, see here?” She points to a line down the center of his palm. “And your heart line… it’s deep.”

  “What does that mean?” Grant asks.

  “It means your relationships are significant to you. You don’t take them lightly. That is a good thing. You’re both grounded and deep.” She smiles over at me. “Your turn.” She takes my hand and twists her lips. We are probably the same age but she seems decades wiser than me.

  “Is it bad?”

  She shakes her head slowly. “Not bad, just different.”

  I swallow, the room suddenly much too hot. “Different how?”

  “You’re a fire sign, for starters. Passionate, confident, but lacking empathy at times.”

  “And my life line?”

  Tabitha traces the length of my hand. “Long. That’s good. But your fate line…” She pauses, looking over at Grant.

  “It’s okay,” I say. “Tell me.”

  She looks deep into my eyes and I swear to god this stranger can see my soul. “Another man is going to enter the picture. Soon.”

  I frown, looking over at Grant.

  He chuckles. “Damn, and here I thought I was someone special.”

  “You are,” I say, taking my hand from Tabitha.

  “I’m sorry,” she says. “This is the part of my job that I hate. Telling someone something they don’t want to hear.”

  “It’s fine,” I say, trying to laugh it off. “I asked.”

  “For what it’s worth, earth and fire are a good pair,” she adds.

  I thank her, and Grant pays for the readings, and we leave, a somber mood settling over me. But Grant simply pulls me to him, the glittering lights above us, stars and moonlight higher still.

  “Another man could mean a hundred different things, you know that, right?” His arms wrap around my waist and I lift my chin, his eyes finding mine.

  “Sure,” I say. “And palm reading isn’t an exact science anyways, is it?”

  He grins. “I thought you weren’t a science nerd?”

  I lick my lips. “I feel like I’m learning about chemistry.”

  He kisses me, then and there, his thumb brushing over my cheek and his mouth warm against mine, and I melt into him, against him. Ready to leave this carnival and go somewhere private.

  He reads my mind, and takes my hand. “Come on, Goldilocks, let’s get out of here.”

  Back in Cherry Falls, he parks his truck in his drive and invites me in. “I have dessert and wine.”

  “Fancy,” I say as we walk to his front porch. “Is this the same treatment all your dates get?”

  He laughs. “There aren’t many dates happening.”

  “Really? I have a hard time believing that. Seems like you’re the complete package.”

  “I’m flattered,” he says, pushing open the door to his home. If I thought he was too good to be true before, I don’t know what I’d call him now. His house is so… perfect. It reminds me what a mess my life is. I have suitcases of clothes and boxes of books… but not much else to my name. And Grant? He has a whole home.

  “This is not what I was expecting,” I say as we slip off our coats and shoes.

  He chuckles and turns on the lights in the foyer as Otis bounds toward him. “Thought I’d have a bachelor pad?” He kneels down and lets Otis love on him.

  “Maybe… I think I’m still trying to figure you out,” I admit.

  He stands, and leads the way to the kitchen. “Red or white?” he asks, taking wine glasses from a cupboard.

  “Red.”

  He uncorks a bottle of merlot, and grabs two spoons from a drawer. “Next question, chocolate or vanilla?”

  “Chocolate, always,” I say, smiling.

  From his freezer he pulls out a pint of rocky road ice cream and cocks his head toward the living room.

  We sit on his couch, and he hands me a wine glass. “Cheers,” he says. “To our first official date.”

  “And to first kisses,” I add, smiling.

  “It was pretty perfect, as far as first kisses go,” he says, opening the ice cream and taking a bite. “It might be bad form to say that, but it’s the truth, isn’t it?”

  I laugh, teasing him. “It was pretty good…”

  “Pretty good? Damn, here I was feeling all confident.”

  I spoon out a bite of the ice cream too. “I mean practice makes perfect, that’s what they say, right?”

  He laughs, setting down his wine glass, and drawing me into his lap. “That’s what they say. But what do you say, Goldie Greyhound?”

  “I feel like I won the neighbor lottery.”

  We both laugh, but then the moment still and our desire is palpable. “Fuck,” he groans. “I want to do more than practice kissing you, girl.”

  I exhale, knowing I want so much more, too. Everything. I want to feel safe in his arms, want to make love to a man who is tender and strong and knows who the hell he is. I want him, plain and simple.

  “Show me what you want, Grant,” I whisper.

  He doesn’t hesitate. He stands, with me in his arms, and reaches for the ice cream. He puts it in the freezer, my legs wrapped around his waist, and he carries me down the hall to his bedroom. It’s dark, the light of the moon filtering through the window, and it feels like everything is changing. Fast. But I’m not scared. I want this. I came to Cherry Falls to create change in my life. It’s what I needed. To get out of the rut I’ve been in for so long, away from the crappy men who didn’t treat me well. I needed a fresh start.

  “God, you are gorgeous,” he says, taking control. Control of me. He runs his hand over my back, drawing my ass close. I exhale as he lifts my dress, pulling it up over my head and dropping it to the floor. “When I saw you earlier, in this bra, my cock got so hard, you know that?”

  I shake my head. “You didn’t mention it,” I say, biting my bottom lip, then pushing down my tights. “But how do you like my panties? I feel like my bra is getting all the attention here.” I spin in a circle, slowly. Shaking my butt
as I do.

  He gives a low, sexy as sin whistle, then takes off his flannel, revealing a six-pack and a chest tattoo, muscles that make my pussy wet, my nipples hard. His body is defined and delicious and I want to eat it all up.

  “So I can’t tell, are you a tits or ass man?” I ask, reaching behind myself and unhooking my bra.

  “Why do I have to choose?” he asks, unbuckling his belt. When I toss my bra aside, he grunts. “Fuck, your tits are perfect.”

  “Just like your house,” I tease, stepping toward him.

  “My house may be perfect, but it’s lonely living here all alone.” He runs his hand over my hips, up my torso, massaging my breasts.

  “You want a wife and kids, the whole nine yards?”

  “The whole nine yards, that’s what I’m after.”

  I lift an eyebrow because the guys I’ve dated were the exact opposite. They were so focused on their careers, on getting leading roles and photo shoots — everything was about publicity — they weren’t interested in settling down. It’s so different, being here, with a man like Grant. A man who isn’t chasing a dream. He’s already living his.

  Chapter Seven

  Grant

  “Does that scare you?” I ask, her eyes cast down.

  She shakes her head, slowly. “No. It’s refreshing.”

  “Good, because I sure as hell don’t want you running. Not when we’re standing here nearly naked. Ready to practice all sorts of things.”

  She smiles, her hair soft around her shoulders, everything about her all-consuming. I want to make her happy, make her laugh, make her sing. Show tunes and all. This girl lights a fire in me and I don’t want to lose it. Lose her.

  I know she isn’t as settled as I am, but maybe we’re the right kind of opposites. The right kind of pair.

  “Come here,” I say, pulling her to the bed. She goes where I lead, and I like that. She may be center stage in most things, but in the bedroom, she wants a man in charge. Me. I won’t let her down.