Page 18 of Lovetown, USA

Lane

Deacon meets me in front of my hotel, and he’s right on time.

He looks good. Clean-cut. Broad shoulders. Tall. Fro perfectly sponged. He’s not as fine as Trey, or as tall, but he’ll do for tonight.

He opens the door and I slide in, already making mental notes for my next column.

The restaurant is cozy, but heavily curated to match the town, which means I have the ick before we order our drinks.

Once again, hearts everywhere, pink fairy lights, neon signs on the walls that say “Love Wins” and “True Love.” Even the hanging Edison bulbs have hearts etched on them. I’m so, so sick of this shit.

But my mind is open.

They must have known we were the winning bingo couple, because our table is the only one with red rose petals strewn all over the tablecloth and tall taper candles in gold candleholders.

Our waitress, Julie, greets us with a thousand-watt smile and hands us our menus with a flourish.

I glance down and stifle a laugh.

Appetizers of Affection.

Entrees of Endearment.

Desserts of Deep Devotion.

“This fucking place,” I mutter under my breath.

“What’s that?” Deacon asks.

I look up at him. “Nothing. Just…you see this, right? This town is so committed to the bit. I’ve never seen anything like it.”

He beams like I’ve paid him a personal compliment. “It’s cool, right?”

“Is it?”

He shrugs. “You know what you want?”

I give the menu a better look and find that almost all of the dishes are love-themed. I finally settle on the Fond Filet with Amour au Gratin on the side. Barf.

Julie returns with two complimentary cocktails, pink with sugar rims and heart-shaped strawberry slices floating around on top. I don’t know whether to gag or to chug.

I mean, I drink it, of course, but I don’t love it. It’s sweet. Too sweet. But it’s numbing the pain of this date.

By the time the bread arrives, I know a lot more about my handsome companion. He’s 41, single, childfree, the oldest of three boys, and he works as a zookeeper at Maple Grove Zoo and Sanctuary.

Also?

He’s dry as hell.

I had to extract those answers out of him like a dentist pulling wisdom teeth.

“So I had to leave a little early today to get to you,” he’s saying. “Usually around this time, I’d be saying goodnight to all of the animals.”

“That’s…sweet.”

He shrugs. “It’s my job.”

I nod and try to find an angle on this conversation. Julie brings me another drink, then I shift into interview mode.

“So,” I say, leaning in like it’s all a big secret. “What attracted you to this place?”

He chews on a piece of brown bread. “Same as everyone, I suppose. It’s pleasant. Crime is low. And I wanna get married. I’m hitting the three-year mark soon.”

I blink. “Why is it so important for you to do it within that time? Do you wanna be part of the statistic?”

“The tax break,” he says casually.

I nearly choke on my pink cocktail. “The what?”

“Yeah. Extra deduction if you’re married here before your three years are up. Huge financial perk.”

I stare at him. “So you don’t wanna get married for companionship. Or romance. Or love.”

He shrugs again, unbothered. “I’m more pragmatic than romantic. It is what it is.”

I down the rest of my cocktail, suddenly feeling a kinship with this odd man.

Dinner, when it comes, is irritatingly delicious. The steak melts in my mouth, the potatoes are creamy heaven, and dessert…Chocolate Lovers Souffle for Two…nearly makes this entire evening worthwhile.

“Do you not like it?” I ask after he takes one bite of the souffle and sets his spoon down.

“It’s rich,” he says flatly. “Too rich for me. I prefer savory.”

“That’s too bad,” I say between bites. “You’re forcing me to eat this whole thing by myself, and that’s not good for my diet.”

“Diet?” he scoffs. “I don’t know what for. You look good to me.”

I smile and bat my lashes. “You’re sweet. Here, just one more bite.”

I scoop up a bit of souffle and hold my spoon out to him, staring into his eyes. He can’t resist, of course, and I can practically see his wheels turning, playing she’s gonna let me fuck on loop in his head.

When it comes to being around men, this is the only part I like.

The nice date, flirting, anticipation, and of course, the orgasms. It’s what comes later that makes me shut down, because it reminds me of what I lost. It reminds me that love is a fucking joke.

All this shit around me, this whole city… it’s all a joke.

Deacon pays for dinner with our gift certificate, using cash for the tip, and then we step outside into the warm night air.

That’s when I check my phone.

One unread text from Trey.

Dr. Handsome

Text me when you get home so I know you’re safe. Thanks. Sincerely, Officer Montgomery

I stare at it a beat too long, confused when my stomach does a funny little flip, which makes me extremely uncomfortable to the point where I almost pull out my flask.

“You wanna call it a night, or…?”

I tuck my phone away and turn my attention back to my date. “Actually…have you ever been to Lover’s Bluff? I hear the view is gorgeous.”

Deacon is as eager to please as he is dry to talk to.

He parks in almost the same spot as Trey when we came here the other night, but I don’t wanna think about that, or him, right now.

Instead, I stare up at the stars again, scattered and glittering across the sky like God Himself knocked over his jewelry box and left diamonds everywhere.

I let my thoughts drift for a second, then stop thinking altogether. It’s so peaceful out here. So relaxing.

“Can I kiss you?” Deacon’s voice cuts through my thoughts.

I look over at him, smiling slyly. “Yes. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“I want the kiss to taste like me.”

It takes him a second, but when it hits him, his mouth slowly curves into a grin. I love that look on a man, the moment he realizes I’ve called him into service. He reaches over and adjusts my seat, giving himself room to kneel in front of me. It’s tight, but he isn’t complaining.

Two minutes later, my panties are off and his face is between my legs.

He’s pretty good at this, I have to say. His personality may be dull, but his tongue is the life of the party. It has me writhing and moaning, my hands clutching the top of his head, my body shuddering hard.

When I cum, he does this thing where he sucks my opening like he’s trying to drink my essence fresh from the tap. Not only does it feel amazing, it leads me to believe this man is a real eater.

Not a bad guy to have on the roster.

After I settle down, he leans up and stares into my eyes.

“Now do I get my kiss?”

I answer this by grabbing his face in my hands and pulling him to me. I taste sweet on his lips. Earthy on his tongue. Maybe I’m weird, but I enjoy tasting me. And when I’ve had my fill, I thank him for a lovely evening and ask him to take me home.

Steam curls around me as I step out of the hotel shower, skin still tingling from the hot water. I towel off, slip into an oversized Grambling T-shirt, and collapse onto the bed with my phone.

I hit Nadia’s name without thinking.

“Girl!” she answers on first ring. “What the hell is going on? You’ve been MIA and you know I hate that. Especially when you owe me updates.”

I laugh, settling against the fluffy white pillows. “The town is still a freakshow. I’m still fucking the doctor, but I went out with a zoologist tonight and let him eat me out. That was really nice.”

She’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I have thoughts.”

“And, I think I found an angle for my exposé.”

“Ooh, what?”

“Stay tuned,” I say quickly. “I don’t wanna jinx it. But let’s just say, there’s no magic here. There never was.”

“Well, your first column was good.”

“You read it?”

“Bitch, you know I read all your shit. Don’t do me.”

A text dings through. It’s Trey, checking to see if I got back okay.

“Have you seen the numbers yet?” Nadia asks.

I blow out a sigh. “I’m sure Britt will be calling soon to give them to me, for better or for worse.”

There’s a pause, then Nadia speaks again, softly this time. “I know you’re hoping this will be your ticket back from exile, but…are you prepared for the possibility that it won’t?”

I close my eyes, letting her words sink in. Nadia’s could find the bright side of a homegoing service, so this is a real cold glass of water she just splashed on my face.

“I’m trying to think positively about it,” I say. “Manifesting success, maybe. So no, I’m not prepared.”

“I just don’t wanna see you spiral again.”

I don’t think she realizes I’m deep in the throes of a spiral as we speak. I just haven’t hit rock bottom yet.

“I appreciate you looking out,” I say softly. “I love you for that.”

“Of course.” She pauses, then says, “By the way…Pat texted me.”

I groan as I sit up. I need all my wits about me for this one. “What did she want?”

Nadia chuckles. “She just asked about deals on flights to Miami for her.” She clears her throat. “And your dad.”

I roll my eyes. “Please don’t feel like you have to help my parents, Nadia. They’re grown. And weird for this shit, but whatever.”

She laughs. “I mean, I’m not even mad at it. They wanna go on a cruise. To celebrate their—“

“Divorce anniversary,” I finish for her. “Girl, block ‘em.”

“I will not!” she laughs, “I love your parents.”

“So do I, but that doesn’t mean you have to tolerate their bullshit. You see they didn’t even mention this to me. They went straight to you. They know they’re weird for this.”

“Well, whatever. I’m sending the links over to her later and you will deal .”

My eyelids are getting heavy, so after a few more minutes of gossip about Nadia’s week, we say goodnight.

As if I didn’t have enough on my mind. Here come Lucas and Pat to annoy me. Been divorced twenty years and still orbiting each other like they’re soulmates.

Whatever.

I grab my flask from my bag and empty its contents right down my throat, then I drift off, content and marginally happy as I think I think about the day my industry stops blackballing me.