Page 28

TWENTY

AMOS

After cashing out my last table of the day, I moved into the kitchen and found Mom at the grill, shaking our special seasoning blend over fresh fries.

“Hey, Mom, do you have time to make two burger specials to go?”

“You got it, kiddo,” she called over her shoulder.

I pulled out my phone and shot off a quick text.

Amos: You busy? If not, mind if I swing by with dinner? I think you’ll like it.

“Two burgers, huh?” Mom’s eyes twinkled.

“Catching up with a friend tonight.” A familiar heat crept across the back of my neck. I’d always been a terrible liar.

Fortunately, she didn’t press, but the knowing look in her eye left me unsettled.

She hadn’t asked any pressing questions about Mickey and the cheese after she told me he stopped by to talk to her about it.

I’d expected her to pepper me with questions about our relationship outside of festival work or to warn me to keep my distance so I didn’t get hurt.

Mickey: My stomach growled as I read your text. I’m starving.

I was tempted to put myself on the menu. He’d been consuming my thoughts since our non-date date. Honestly? Since before that, but it grew worse with each interaction. Kissing him on Saturday night had confirmed we had some serious chemistry, and I was desperate to explore it.

“Here you go, sweetheart. And next time you talk to our cheese producer, tell them they’d better increase production.” She winked.

I thanked her and left Sparky’s with a spring in my step and humming the Christmas tune that had been playing on the diner’s speakers.

Five minutes later, I walked up the now-familiar porch steps at Mickey’s. The door swung open before I reached it.

“Hey.” Mickey’s smile was wide and welcoming.

“Hey, yourself.” Shamelessly, I approached him and brushed a kiss against his lips.

When I pulled back, he cupped the back of my head and pulled me in for a deeper, lingering kiss that chased the cold evening air away.

I hope his neighbors aren’t lookie-loos. Though I’d been away from Maplewood for so long, maybe they wouldn’t recognize me.

The thought made my stomach heave. Instead of enjoying the greeting by the guy I was into, I was worried about getting spotted and word getting out about whatever was going on between us.

“That smells delicious.” He sniffed the air.

“It should. It’s got your cheese on it.”

Mickey’s eyes widened. “You brought me the special?”

“I did. It’s been wildly popular today. You good to eat enemy food?”

He shot me a sly grin. “As long as you don’t say anything, I won’t.”

I mimed zipping my lips as I followed him inside his warm house.

Minutes later, we had our burgers and fries transferred to plates, beers cracked, and were sitting across from each other at the dining table.

Without thinking, I shoved a handful of fries into my mouth.

It had been a busy day, and I’d only managed a protein bar for lunch.

Mickey stared at his plate instead of touching it.

“Worried it’s poisoned?”

He cracked a smile, but something lurked in his eyes when he looked at me. “I just can’t believe my cheese is being served in a restaurant instead of on cheeseboards to my friends and family. I never thought it would happen.”

I kicked back my chair and moved around to his side of the table. Standing behind him, I hooked my chin over his shoulder and wrapped my arms around his chest. He covered my arms with his hand.

“Your cheese is amazing, Mickey. It’s worthy of being on the menu at any restaurant.” I gave him one more squeeze before returning to my seat.

“Thanks. You sure your mom is okay with it?”

I snorted. “She’s almost sold out of the special.

I think she’s perfectly fine with it. In fact, she told me to talk to you about getting more.

” I already respected the hell out of Mickey, but those feelings had deepened into something real.

Something more than a crush. He was the kind of guy I would be lucky to be with.

The type I’d always hoped to find someday.

It was a cruel twist of fate that it was Mickey Brewer of Red’s Restaurant in Maplewood, Vermont, of all people and places.

He selected a single fry and took a small bite, chewing carefully. Tilting his head and looking off into the distance, he picked up two more and ate them much faster. “These are actually really good.”

“Thanks?” I said, laughing.

I watched him tackle the burger with more eagerness. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. “This is good, and not just because of the cheese. The burger isn’t dry, it has good flavor, and the bun is keeping it all together instead of disintegrating in my hand.”

“I’ll accept those compliments on behalf of our chef.” I laughed at his genuine surprise. Did he expect our food to be awful?

Mickey eagerly worked through his dinner. “Did your mom tell you how I scared the hell out of her by lurking in the shadows?”

Laughter bubbled out of me as I put the pieces together. “You’re the Maple Street Prowler!”

“The what ?”

I pulled my phone from my pocket and navigated to the Maplewood Matters blog. The photo was grainy—just the back of a figure in a bulky coat with the hood pulled up.

Mickey read the screen after I passed the phone to him. His eyebrows crept toward his hairline. “They think I’m a burglar? You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Word on the street is an old Chevy Blazer was vandalized. Broken door handle from someone trying to break in.” My lips twitched.

Mickey scoffed and shoved the phone back at me. “You must be talking about Roger’s rig. That door handle has been broken for a decade. He’s just trying to find a way to get insurance to pay for the fix since he’s too cheap to do it himself.” Mickey shoved fries into his mouth and chewed angrily.

It was adorable.

“What’s in the seasoning?”

“Sparky’s secret.”

“Seasoning salt with oregano and chili powder added in? Hmm. There’s something else.”

I narrowed my eyes at him. Damn good guesser.

We finished our dinners and nursed beers from Hop Doctor Brewery while chatting about what we needed to do next for our Christmas Eve dinner.

The conversation felt different this time.

Instead of the festival being the reason for us to spend time together, we were touching base on a few lingering things and getting the business out of the way so we could enjoy our time.

As Mickey prepped overnight oats for breakfast, I cleaned up dinner.

The domestic scene made my heart ache for it to be real.

Me swinging by after a long day of work to share dinner and easy conversation.

Cuddling on the couch, absorbed in our books, until we fell into bed and each other’s arms. Then waking up to start the day with overnight oats like competent adults who cared about our fiber intake. It was a dreamy scenario.

Hoping for more with Mickey was a fast track to heartache. Even if we didn’t immediately crash and burn, I didn’t live here.

But you could . And do what? Maplewood wasn’t exactly an economic hotbed for corporate pencil pushers.

“You look lost in thought. Good thoughts?” Mickey sidled up behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist.

It’s so easy with him. That has to mean something.

I turned off the faucet and spun in his arms. “Thinking about you, so yeah.”

“What about me?”

“How badly I want to pick up where we left off the other night.”

Mickey dropped featherlight kisses along my jaw. “Mm. Me too. Come on.” He pulled me by the hand down a hallway with framed family photos on one side and familiar Vermont landscapes on the other.

My heart pounded as I crossed the threshold into his bedroom.

The space was dark until he flipped on a lamp standing in the corner next to a chest of drawers.

I only glanced around long enough to notice an old style of furniture like my grandparents had before they downsized and moved to Florida.

But the modern bed stood out with a fluffy, white duvet and a low, understated black bedframe.

Hunger blazed in Mickey’s eyes as he walked me back to the bed with a possessive grip on my hips.

“Want to know a secret?”

“Yes,” I spoke the word like a plea.

Mickey kissed me until my toes curled. I’d nearly forgotten about the secret he’d offered until we broke apart and he pushed me back onto the bed. When he climbed over me and straddled my waist, I jerked my hips toward him, desperate for friction.

“I had a sex dream about you in high school.”

My eyes rolled back in my head as he lowered his weight onto me and pressed his groin into mine as he kissed the sensitive spot under my ear.

“I woke up harder than I’d ever been. I couldn’t look at you in school for weeks after.”

I slid my hands down his back to cup his ass. “What happened in the dream?”

“You were with your friends at a football game. Laughing and smiling like you always were. You made eyes at me at the snack bar. All it took was one jerk of your head, and I was meeting you under the bleachers. It was dark and out of sight. You dropped to your knees, then I woke up.”

The threat of getting caught was hot.

“Aww, you poor thing. You didn’t even get to experience a dream blowjob?” I kissed his exaggerated pout.

“I was robbed.”

I kissed under his chin. “How about I fix that?” I pushed until he rolled onto his back.

“You’ve got good ideas.” His white bedding puffed up between his fingers as he clutched it.

After stealing another kiss, I pushed his buffalo plaid flannel up to expose his chest and shifted down his body to get up close and personal with the exposed skin. Mickey squirmed under me as I licked and played with his nipples.

His bulge was pronounced and eager for attention by the time I unbuttoned his jeans and lowered the zipper. I had to stop and inhale his musky scent while nuzzling him. The fact that I’d felt but hadn’t seen his dick on Halloween had created a tantalizing anticipation that had teased me for weeks.

After exploring the shape of him through his black cotton boxer briefs, I tugged on his underwear until he lifted his hips.

I climbed off the bed to pull his jeans and underwear all the way off before straddling his legs.

Mickey’s half-hard cut cock lay across his trimmed hair. It jumped slightly under my attention.

“Eager, huh?”

“Like you’re not.”

I bit down on my bottom lip while grinning as I teased my finger down his length. “Or maybe I want to take my slow, sweet time.” I stretched out each word.

As he sucked in a breath, a bead of precum formed on the tip of his cock.

I leaned in to lick it up, humming at the earthy taste.

I licked around his head and worked him in my mouth as Mickey wove his fingers through my hair and gripped.

His touch was eager and firm but not demanding.

I wanted to keep pushing until he lost control.

While working his dick and growing harder to the soundtrack of his quick breaths and moans, I cupped and played with his balls before moving my fingers behind his sac. When Mickey’s legs fell open, I continued exploring and teased my finger around his rim.

“Yes. Oh fuck. Amos.”

His eager response to my touch made me feel powerful and sexy. This wasn’t just a hookup to get off and release the pressure that had been building between us for weeks, but something more. Another way to discover our compatibility and learn more about each other.

I continued working his cock and teasing his hole as Mickey muttered praise between heavy breaths.

“Almost there.”

His responsiveness sent my own desire skyrocketing, and I shamelessly rolled my hips against his leg for some relief.

It wasn’t long before Mickey arched his back and gripped the bedding tight enough to turn his knuckles white as he shot into my mouth. I couldn’t take my eyes off him as he rode out his orgasm.

I’m so fucked.