plik

Have  you  ever  been  tongue  tied?  Not  able  to  say  exactly  what  you
want? When you want to say it?
A  little  hesitant  about  relationships  and  love,  used  bookstore  owner,
Marilyn Jacobs, stumbles across the sexiest man she has ever seen and
she is finally able to say all the right things that are on her mind. But
when  Lover  Boy  doesn't  respond,  not  even  a  thank  you,  Marilyn  is
mortified. She eventually comes to terms with herself, thinking none of
that  matters  because  she's  never  going  to  see  him  again,  right?
Convinced  that  love  isn't  for  him,  Colorado  brewery  owner,  Blake
Bryant, cannot believe his lucky stars when he runs into Marilyn again.
He  is  determined  to  keep  his  relationship  with  her  casual.  But  when
someone  hijacks  his  delivery  truck,  it's  Marilyn  who  is  at  his  side.
When she gets stuck in the middle of the next hijacking, he comes to
her rescue but Blake doesn't realize that Marilyn is a girl with a gun.
Can she save them both?
Gun Shy
Girls with Guns, Volume 1 Ashley Bostock
Published by Ashley Bostock, 2015.

Chapter One
Rumors on Main was a boutique salon located in downtown Windsor,
Colorado.  It  had  been  around  since  the  Eighties  and  was  a
well-established business for those looking for an upscale place to get
their hair and nails done, as well as any spa necessities.
The  quaint  salon  was  located  inside  of  an  old  home.  Many  of  the
businesses  that  were  established  on  or  near,  downtown  Main  Street
were located inside of previous homes. Rumors was known for their
fabulous haircuts, coloring techniques and amazing pedicures.
Marilyn had been going to Rumors off and on for a few years now but
she  wasn't  the  type  of  person  to  know  exactly  when  she  needed  a
haircut, nor did she keep track how long it had been since the last time
she had had a cut. She just went when she felt like it and today - she felt
like it like.
She pulled her red Jeep behind the salon and parked in an unmarked
parking  spot,  gathered  up  her  purse  and,  since  it  was  an  open  Jeep,
stuck  her  iPod  and  her  phone  inside  the  glove  box,  locked  it  and
jumped out.
Her appointment was at noon and she was right on time. As she began
walking  toward  the  building,  she  heard  another  car  pull  up  and
immediately  thought  she  better  get  in  there  first.  With  her  luck  she
would have to wait and wait for another person once they got ahead of
her. Then she realized her error - she already had an appointment, she
wouldn't have to wait behind anyone.
She glanced over her shoulder to see if the driver was in fact heading
into the salon or going someplace else and  whoa,  she thought. A six
foot tall, tanned and handsome man was walking toward her. He hadn't
noticed her ogling him yet. She abruptly turned around and tried acting
as calm as she could and walked along the tiny cement path that led her
to the front of the building, all the while telling herself to chill out! He
is only a gorgeous guy, which, somewhere in this world, are plentiful.
But she knew, who was she kidding? She couldn't even recall the

last  time  she  seen  a  man  look  that  amazing.  Okay,  she  conceded,  so
sunglasses  were  covering  his,  what  she  envisioned,  were  beautiful
emerald eyes and he had a just off-the-shelf, clean white hat that was
covering  some  amazing  color  of  hair,  no  doubt.  He  wasn't  wearing
anything fancy, tan cargo shorts and a grey t-shirt, but it made her hot
nonetheless.
It was his body that got her. He was extremely tall, sporting sun-kissed
skin with muscles that could make a fireman jealous. How does a man
even  get  those  kinds  of  muscles  on  his  forearms  like  that?  She
wondered. What kind of weights did he lift? In which direction?  She
was certain she had never seen muscles like that on anyone. And she
went to the gym!
Once she checked in and took a seat, the front door opened and in he
walked. Naturally, every set of eyes went to the door to see who was
coming in, and he got the biggest smile she had ever seen on a person
across  his  face.  No  doubt  from  all  the  female  attention  he  was
receiving.  Great,  Marilyn  thought,  a  guy  who  looks  like  that  is
probably  some  big  time  jerk  -  because  that's  the  cliché,  right?  He
knows he's hot and his head has exploded from the idea. She mentally
rolled her eyes.
Marilyn  kept  staring  at  him  and  boy,  did  he  have  some  lady-loving
dimples. As Marilyn studied (gawked at) him, she noticed they weren't
your run-of-the-mill surface dimples. These were the kind of dimples
that  went  so  deep,  you  could  stick  your  finger  in  them  and  pull  him
towards you. Pull him to you and have your way with him, she thought.
Stop acting so smitten, she nagged herself. She doesn't even know this
man from  Adam  and here she was fantasizing about having her way
with him? Get a grip!
With her gaze locked on a curling iron, willing herself not to look at
him, she felt him sit down next to her on the suddenly way-too-small
bench.  His  arm  brushed  against  hers  and  she'd  never  before  been
electrocuted  but  was  pretty  sure  she  now  knew  what  it  felt  like.  She
looked up at him, into the brightest, greenest eyes she'd ever seen.
His  face  was  beautiful,  peppered  with  a  few  beauty  marks,  high
cheekbones, a slender nose and, she couldn't believe she was going to
look, her eyes mentally cringed together, light pink lips that looked soft

to the touch. They had a very small dip on the top, leaving it almost flat,
almost unnoticeable - unless you were only a foot away, like she was
now.
At  that  thought,  Marilyn's  eyes  snapped  up  to  Lover  Boy's  eyes,
thinking  how  much  more  embarrassed  could  she  possibly  become?
He's probably wondering what kind of person she could be - so rudely
staring at a perfect stranger. As her eyes made their way to his, perfect
was right. And as she looked into his twinkling eyes, they looked like
they were smiling at her. Not in pity, no, but in amusement, as if he
already knew her mind was undressing him.
"Hi," he whispered in a husky voice, making her nipples tighten. Even
in a whisper, his voice sent a chill down her spine.
Her throat closed up, she could hardly breathe, let alone speak. Being
the suddenly nervous wreck that she was, all she could do was manage
a weak nod of her head. Then the stranger smiled again.  Please stop
doing that. She was going to melt into a messy puddle of water right
there on the salon floor.
"You're back already? It seems like you were just in here," one of the
stylists said to him.
"What can I say? My hair grows fast," he told the stylist.
"Fast is good. It means you're healthy," she replied.
Their gazes locked in the mirror that sat in front of them at one of the
stylist's stations and he took off his sunglasses, which sat on his white
hat, then proceeded to take off his hat, all the while holding Marilyn's
gaze. She couldn't look away. It was the number one sexiest look she
had ever shared with a man. She knew she should look away. She knew
her mother taught her better than that, not to stare at strangers, but she
was pretty sure her mother would approve of this one exception.
"Marilyn? You ready, Dear?" asked the lady who was scheduled to cut
her  hair.  What  was  her  name?  She  knew  it.  They  had  reminded  her
when  she  called  to  make  her  appointment.  She  had  cut  her  hair
numerous times before. Yes! Adeline Mondragon. That was it. After
all,  you  should  at  least  know  the  name  of  the  person  who's  going  to
make or break the way you look for the next six months, right?
She barely found her voice, "Yes, Adeline, I'm ready."

Marilyn stood up on wobbly legs and followed the stylist to her booth.
There, she sat down and they discussed the usual: Is she getting a trim
or a whole new 'do? Layered, not layered? Bangs or not? Marilyn had
naturally curly hair that she absolutely loved, but as it grew longer, the
curls became less wavy. She told all of this to Adeline, and they agreed
upon giving her a bunch of layers but not too short, so Marilyn could
still wear her ever-faithful ponytail.
Marilyn had always had long hair. At the most, it never went below the
middle of her back or above her shoulders. She liked it that way. She
had pretty brown hair that had its own natural highlights of a sun-kissed
auburn color. With summer coming, layers would make it lighter and
cooler. So layered it was, no bangs please and yes, when you are done,
you may style it for the day.
With Marilyn's mind occupied about her hair wants, she almost forgot
about Lover Boy for a few moments.  Almost. When she scanned the
house-turned-salon, she took into account the five booths. They must
have added one since the last time she was there.
There were two booths located up front, where she had sat next to that
dazzling stranger and then three more booths in the second room. On
her previous visits, she had learned the second room was where the old
dining room was, as it came right off of the kitchen. As she scanned the
room, Lover Boy was nowhere to be found.
Oh  no,  Marilyn  had  a  quick  panic  attack.  Where  did  he  go?  She
couldn't imagine living her entire life without ever seeing him again.
Suddenly, logic took over - she remembered he came in for a haircut
and he hadn' t had one yet. Maybe he was just getting his hair washed.
Yep. That had to be it. Oh, yep, that was it. Here he comes. She tried to
take her eyes off him, to look away, but this man was like a magnet.
Her eyes no longer did what her brain said. They had a mind of their
own. If she thought he was gorgeous wearing that clean white baseball
cap, what she thought now couldn't even be put into words.
He strolled into the stylists' area, the room she was in, with an air of
confidence that would make the president look ordinary. Maybe he's in
the  military,  she  thought.  His  brownish-blond  hair  was  wet  from  his
washing and stuck out on top like a wet dog after a bath, but Marilyn
was

pretty sure she had never seen anything sexier, more male, than what
this man was showing her right now. Confident and good-looking, who
could resist?
She could feel her palms getting clammy and she became well-aware of
the unmistakable feeling low in her belly, traveling down between her
thighs. She instinctively squeezed her legs together. Thank God for the
salon cape that was covering her!
What  was  she  thinking?  Get  a  grip,  girl.  She  had  to  repeat  that  to
herself over and over. It was time for her wash and she did her best to
look into the other room as she passed his booth, which happened to be
adjacent to hers. Adeline worked  magic into washing and  massaging
Marilyn's head. It felt like heaven being massaged into her scalp. She
loved  it  when  other  people  washed  her  hair.  But  as  it  were,  being
single, there was no other person in her life to wash it for her.
Thinking  about  her  single  status  made  her  think  of  her  ex-boyfriend
who was still sort of a friend. She and Tyler had been together three
years. She had met him on her twenty-third birthday and the minute he
saw her, he claimed, she was the one.
He  kept  quoting  cheesy  pick  up  lines  that  made  her  laugh  and
eventually, she went out with him because she was impressed that, no
matter how silly he was, he went after what he wanted. Their first date
went well; she never felt like he really knocked her off her feet but the
more  they  talked  and  the  more  they  hung  out,  alone  or  with  mutual
friends, she realized that he did care about her. He was loyal and he was
a steady rock she could lean on. Before she knew it three years went by.
Boy how time flies.
She  had  literally  woke  up  one  morning  with  the  idea  that  they  were
through.  There  was  never  any  pizzazz,  passion,  spontaneity,  no
attraction  that  stopped  her  from  breathing,  with  Tyler.  The  sad  truth
was  there  never  had  been  and  that  morning  when  she  had  woken  up
next to him, she finally understood that there never would be.
She  had  fallen  into  a  routine,  a  habit,  which  was  not  at  all  what  she
wanted.  It  definitely  was  not  what  her  fantasies  were  about.  No,  to
Marilyn, she longed for someone to knock her off her feet. She wanted
that one person who could squeeze her heart without ever touching her,

making her breathless.
As  it  were,  she  was  too  nice  to  give  Tyler  the  complete  boot.  They
remained friends since their break-up. There were times he made her
uncomfortable because it was clear he wasn't over her. But she knew
him well enough to know he wouldn't ever hurt her nor do anything she
wouldn't want him to do.
Really, as she lay back in the stylist's chair getting her hair washed, and
thought about Tyler, he was like a pesky fly. Harmless and bothersome.
No matter how much you tried to shoo him away, he always came back
bugging you.
With  that  being  said,  it  was  a  little  difficult  to  have  any  kind  of
boyfriend/sex life with him around. While she realized they were not
meant to be, she didn't want to rub it in his face and hurt him. He was a
good  person  and  boyfriend...okay  a  good  boyfriend  to  someone  who
didn't mind a pushover as well as someone who didn't care if sex was
almost  nonexistent.  In  hindsight,  maybe  that  was  Marilyn's  problem
with Tyler. Sex was a priority for Marilyn. She definitely wasn't one of
those  women  who  thought  sex  should  only  happen  on  special
occasions. She wanted it all the time. Having at least one orgasm a day
was something she could settle with.
Tyler didn't share her opinion. The sex was almost nonexistent. Then
when they did have sex, it was his way or no way. In all the time they
were together, he had given her four orgasms. Four! And she knew that
for a fact because they were so far and few in between that when she
did have them, it was like the apocalypse.
Lying in bed that morning she thought what woman can live like this?
Definitely not her. Thank God she wasn't shy about her sexuality, and
alone,  she'd  given  herself  quite  a  few  much-needed  orgasms!  She
needed a man who could think of his partner first and himself second in
that department.
"All  done.  Let's  go  give  you  some  layers,"  Adeline  stated  as  she
wrapped the towel turban around Marilyn's head. She leaned close to
Marilyn and whispered, "And check out the eye candy."
"Phew,  thought  it  was  just  me,"  Marilyn  laughed  and  together  they
walked into the middle room to work on her hair.

The rest of her appointment flew by pretty quickly. Adeline performed
magic on her hair and gave her absolutely stunning layers. She didn't
have to worry about drooling over Lover Boy because, for the most
part, he was engaged in typical salon conversation, like her.
Every now and then their eyes collided into one another's through the
salon mirrors and she was always the one that had to look away because
she swore he was reading into her soul. She couldn't help but pray to
God that someday, He would send her someone like Lover Boy where
the mere presence of him made her hands sticky and her panties wet.
Someone who, it the mere sight of them, made her heart skip beats like
she'd ran a marathon - no touching involved. Of course, that was what
every female wanted. A man that would give her everything she dreamt
about - and more.
Adeline was taking off Marilyn's cape when Lover Boy was headed on
his way out. He was paying at the front desk when she heard the stylist
say, "Thank you, Blake. We'll see you in another month or so." Blake.
You've got to be kidding me, Marilyn thought. Of course his name is
Blake. What else would it be? It couldn't be Gertie, or Simon or Bart
because those names were just too plain for what this man was packing.
Blake - she loved it.
How could she have never seen him before? Windsor had a population
of about 20,000, give or take some, and it's not like she didn't do stuff in
town. She went to the festivals and the farmers' markets and what-not.
And now he was leaving and she was probably never going to see him
again? Damn it. In a mere instant her heart took over her brain. In that
moment, she couldn't get out of there fast enough. She hurried and paid
Adeline, leaving her a more-than-enough tip and followed him straight
out the front door.
What was she going to do? Follow him? Was she going to talk to him?
What was she even going to say? Anything? Nothing? Take me to bed
or lose me forever? Meg Ryan's voice in Top Gun rang in her ears. How
about take me home and do wild and crazy things to my body that I
haven't experienced in four years?
She walked, practically ran, back to the parking lot and stopped short
when she saw that he was standing in between her Jeep and his car.

He was talking on the phone and hadn't noticed her yet, so it gave her a
chance  to  check  out  his  finely  sculpted  backside.  Even  from  this  far
away  she  could  see  the  hard  planes  of  muscle  that  made  up  his  butt
underneath his cargo shorts. Maybe he's a model, Marilyn thought. A
model or a soldier, it has to be one of them, she just knew.
"Yeah,  I  will.  Okay.  See  ya,"  Blake  shut  the  phone  off  and  let  out  a
sound of annoyance. Why did his new business partner always have to
call him about small matters? He wished he would handle little things
himself and then, when something bigger, more important, came up, he
could call Blake and they could talk shop.
"Rough  day?"  He  glanced  behind  him  and  saw  the  hottie  brunette
headed  towards  him.  Damn,  she  looked  good,  he  thought.  What  was
her name? He heard the stylist say it and now her beauty was clogging
his brain.
"Nothing I can't handle," he replied, still a little irritated.
Her  eyebrows  rose  up  into  a  well-excuse-me  shape  and  her  eyes
actually looked a little sad, as if his remark hurt her. Fuck.
"I'm sorry, it's just that I have a new business partner and we 're still at
the  getting-to-know-each-other  stage.  Forgive  me?"  he  pleaded  with
her hazel eyes.
Forgive him? Sadly for her, she forgave him long before she even knew
he needed to be forgiven.
"Of course. Don't apologize. Look, I couldn't help but notice you in the
salon and the entire time I sat there, I kept thinking that this might be
the only time in my entire life that I might see you and I just have to tell
you that you are the sexiest man I have ever laid eyes on." Omigod! She
couldn't believe she was actually saying this out loud. It was like her
mouth was no longer connected to her body and was speaking on its
own  free  will.  And  to  her  horror,  it  wasn't  done.  She  continued,  "I
mean,  I  have  never  seen  someone  with  amazing  dimples  like  yours,
deep  dimples.  Nor  have  I  ever  seen  muscles  like  that  in  a  man's
forearms. Where did you get them anyway? Even the muscles in your
butt are amazing! " Her eyes closed momentarily.
"Okay,  you  must  totally  think  I'm  crazy  for  telling  you  all  these
things...and I think I am, not to mention the fact, that I could go on and

on about your emerald eyes and your summery-looking hair, but I had
to tell you. You are extremely beautiful. It's not like I'm ever going to
see  you  again,  so I  thought,  why  not?  Right?  I  have  nothing  to  lose.
Well,  except  maybe  my  pride."  She  blew  out  the  breath  she  was
holding.
Blake  stood  motionless,  staring  at  this  angel  from  heaven  who  was
saying all these things no one had ever had enough guts to say to his
face,  and  he  couldn't  even  speak.  He'd  been  through  the  trenches,
literally,  and  never  once  was  there  a  time  when  he  couldn't  think  of
something to say. Usually it was a smart-ass quip that always came out
of  his  mouth,  but  looking  into  this  woman's  sweet  hazel  eyes,  he
couldn't  think  of  anything.  Sure,  he  was  smiling  but  he  was  so
extremely flattered that he just did not know what to say.
When  he  didn't  say  more,  Marilyn  jumped  into  her  Jeep,  backed  out
and sped away. What was she thinking? Since laying eyes upon'; him,
she  had  asked  herself  that  over  a  dozen  times  and  now  she  was  so
mortified, she couldn't believe it. How could she say all of those things
to a complete stranger? What was  worse was that he didn't even say
anything! Okay, maybe she didn't give him a chance to say anything,
but still, what could be more embarrassing than spilling your guts to a
complete stranger and not getting any response? At the  moment, she
didn' t think there could possibly be anything worse.
As she continued to drive toward home, she knew how mortified she
was but a tiny part of her inner psyche was like, you go girl! She sat a
little  taller  on  the  way  toward  her  house.  She  couldn't  believe  she
actually told him all the things she had been thinking. She usually had a
difficult  time  spitting  out  the  right  words  exactly  the  way  she  meant
them without them coming out as sounding confused or jumbled. Not
in Lover Boy's case though; she couldn't help but grin. Yes, she was
mortified but really, it wasn't like she was ever going to see him again.
What was done, was done. No point in dwelling on it, she thought.

Chapter Two
Windsor  was  an  extremely  cute  town,  its  location  was  superb  -  ten
minutes from the interstate as well as a ten to fifteen minute drive to the
larger cities surrounding Windsor - Greeley and Fort Collins. Both of
those  cities  were  college  towns  and  had  a  great  deal  of  commercial
businesses as well as residential properties. So if Marilyn couldn't find
it in town, she would go to one of those places. Because Windsor was
nestled  in  between  these  cities  but  far  enough  away  to  hold  its  own
town appeal, it was a great place to raise a family. The town was known
for its beautiful lakes, stunning golf courses and a twenty-one mile trail
that connected Greeley to Windsor, all the while wandering along the
Cache La Poudre River.
Marilyn loved the people of Windsor too. As big, or small, as the town
was, depending on how you looked at it, it still held the charm of a little
town. One where people weren't afraid to say hello, offer a smile and in
some cases, lend a hand. She had gotten to know a variety of people
that came in and out of her bookstore and the majority of them were
very nice.
Marilyn loved this town. She loved her little house that was located in
the  old  part  of  town.  She  loved  owning  her  own  business.  She  had
always  loved  books.  When  a  building  had  gone  up  for  sale  on  Main
Street,  not  too  far  from  home,  she  had  jumped  at  the  opportunity.
Because it was a little outdated, and the owners badly wanted to sell it,
she got a killer deal. From there she put all her blood, sweat and tears
into fixing it up. Some work she had to hire out and some her father had
helped  her  with.  When  all  was  done,  it  had  been  made  into  a  cozy
used-book store.
She  had  always  wanted  to  own  a  bookstore,  even  when  she  was
eighteen and had just graduated from high school. All her friends were
heading off to college and she stayed close to home. She stayed behind
and took classes here and there at the local community college about
business and finance and marketing and of course, literature. While she
went to school part-time, she worked as a waitress. She busted her ass

most  evenings  and  every  weekend  and  made  tips  like  no  other.  She
worked double shifts any chance she got and she penny-pinched every
dime and dollar that came her way, using the bare minimum on what
she needed, nothing she desired.
It  was  extremely  hard  work,  hard  to  make  every  single  person  you
served smile, to make each customer happy with the hope that, even if
you did, you still may or may not get a decent tip. The weekends were
the best time to work. People came out to eat and play and drink, and
the  more  they  drank,  the  friendlier  they  became  and  the  looser  their
pockets got. She knew how to be friendly with a little side of flirtiness
that had most of her tables loving her. Working as a waitress, right up
until she opened the book store, had gotten her everything she needed.
She  slowly  began  investing  every  spare  dime  she  had  into  any  used
book she could find and began saving them in her unfinished basement.
She scoured all of Colorado's (it felt like) garage sales, flea markets and
used book sales she could find. She slowly began putting them up, by
genre, in the store on the built-in shelves her father installed.
Before she knew it, she had enough of an inventory to officially open. It
was a little slow at first but once people saw what she offered  -book
reading groups, Wi-Fi and an espresso bar, business had picked up. She
had book groups every Wednesday night, which was more of a social
hour than anything. Mostly made up of women, they talked about what
books they were reading, which ones they couldn't put down and which
ones  they  couldn't  wait  to  get  their  hands  on.  It  wasn't  a  real  formal
meeting. Marilyn started the group by talking about the latest book she
had read and it went from there.
It  was  mostly  the  same  group  of  women  who  came  on  Wednesday
night. In total, there were generally 10 women at book group - one of
whom was always there, Marilyn's best friend, Amber. She and Amber
had been friends since high school. Amber went away to college and
they  kept  in  touch  and  remained  close  friends.  Amber  had  stayed  in
state for college so the farthest apart they were was an hour drive away.
It  was  actually  Amber  who  had  suggested  that  Marilyn  put  in  an
espresso counter in the bookstore because, according to Amber, who
didn' t love a latte while they looked at books or did some

work? Marilyn agreed, she just hadn't made it a priority yet, although
she  knew  she'd  have  one  at  some  point.  Once  Amber  helped  her
research the costs associated with the  machine as well as the syrups,
milk,  coffee  and  cups  -  it  was  a  no  brainer  to  get  it  done  in  the
beginning rather than wait until later. The  markup on espresso-based
drinks  was  huge.  So  huge,  in  fact,  that  it  accounted  for  thirty-five
percent  of  Marilyn's  profit  every  month.  Lusting  after  Literature  had
officially been open for two years now, and life was good.
As  Marilyn  pulled  into  her  driveway,  her  mind  switched  to  the
hands-down-most-gorgeous-guy-she'd-ever-seen that she had run into
earlier. Although she was extremely proud of herself for speaking the
words that were on her mind, at the right moment, she was also a little
disappointed  that  she  didn't  try  the  get-to-know-you  approach  and
asked  if  he  wanted  to  meet  again.  Now,  plain  and  simple,  she  just
wasn't ever going to see him again and that realization made her chest
burn a little. Oh well, she thought, what could she do about it now? Not
a thing.
Besides, someone as amazing-looking as Blake was, he was probably
married with children or at the very least, had some hot and wonderful
girlfriend. What could he possibly want with someone like her? Okay,
she thought she was good-looking. She was confident that she could at
least  hold  her  own  to  any  other  female  on  the  block.  But  she  didn'  t
think  she  was  smoking  hot.  She  was  almost  five  feet  six  inches,  she
wasn't super skinny by any means, but she was fit and she loved the fact
that she had curves in all the right places. To her, her best assets were
her legs. She ran four miles almost every day and she had beautiful legs
to prove it. Oh, how she would have loved to wrap them around Lover
Boy! Enough already, Marilyn thought; she was going to make herself
crazy!
Marilyn's  house  wasn't  anything  fancy.  It  was  a  small  two-bedroom
home that had been built in 1914. She shut the Jeep off and admired her
home. All hers. She was excited to have the day off and have time to
herself.
Her  driveway  took  up  the  entire  side  of  her  house,  while  the  lawn
started  in  the  front  and  curved  around  to  the  back  from  the  opposite
side. She had a cement sidewalk that led from the driveway to the front
porch

as well as straight from the porch to the mailbox out by the street. She
had two white rocking chairs on her porch that offset the beautiful sky
blue  color  of  the  house.  With  the  white  pillars  on  the  porch  and  the
white trim all around the house, Marilyn had loved it before she had
ever  stepped  foot  inside.  The  house  held  all  the  appeal  of  old  town
charm  and the size was perfect for a single woman like her. Not  too
much lawn to take care of and not too much house to clean.
She unlocked the front door and walked in, kicking off her shoes right
across the threshold. She threw her keys and her purse on the antique
sideboard  she  had  painted  turquoise  and  headed  to  her  bedroom  to
change into her gardening clothes. She stripped down to her bra and
panties  and  heard  the  familiar  ringtone  from  Otis  Redding's  song,
Sitting  on  the  Dock  of  the  Bay  and  ran  out  to  her  purse,  fumbling
through it. Why couldn't a person ever find a phone inside a purse, she
questioned  and  answered  just  before  it  went  to  voicemail,  "Hello?"
answering before she saw who it was.
She wished she would have checked. Tyler.
"Hi,  how  are  you?"  He  had  been  trying  to  get  her  to  go  to  the  local
brewery with him, claiming he had some big surprise to show her, but
she just didn't have it in her to see what that surprise was. At least, not
yet.
"Hey Marilyn, I'm doing great." And typical of Tyler, he spoke almost
nonstop, not allowing her to get a word in edge-wise. She walked back
to her room, shimmied into her running shorts, all the while listening
about how great his  upcoming weekend was going to  be.  Yawn.  She
rummaged through her closet and found a hot pink tank top and with
her free hand, stretched it out and pulled the phone away from her ear
and threw it over her head, pulled it down and put the phone back up to
her ear, never missing a thing.
"Tyler, that's great. I know you are excited about getting me to go to
Poudre Hops with you but it's just really not a good time this weekend.
I'm super-busy with the store and I've got more books I need to scan
into the system. This weekend is just not a good time. Yeah, I know, I
will, I promise." Next weekend she would go with him to the brewery.
"Okay, bye." What did he have up his sleeve, she wondered. It

must be something pretty good because he usually didn't press the issue
too much, once she'd told him no.
Her bedroom was located right off the formal dining room, though she
didn't have it really formal for all intents and purposes. Her house had a
pretty open floor plan that allowed the family room and dining room to
be one large room. Both bedrooms were located off the main area of the
house. Her room opened into the dining area while the second bedroom
was located off of the family room. There was a smaller door from the
dining room, past her bedroom that led into the kitchen. Her dining area
was  also  another  work  area.  What  she  couldn't  fit  into  her  computer
room, which was the other bedroom, spilled out into the dining room.
She had a square white table with four chairs, even though she never
ate meals in there. Atop the table currently were all of the books that
needed to be inventoried this weekend.
Her central bookkeeping system was housed out of the store but with
her laptop at home she was able to manually input barcodes and print
labels for the books because of the shared network. She didn't have a
hand-held  book  scanner  at  home,  just  for  the  sake  of  keeping  costs
down, but she could manually type in the barcodes, create an entry for
the book, see how many copies she had on hand, how many she had in
total  inventory  and  how  many,  if  any,  were  on  hold,  all  from  home.
Once  input,  the  system  printed  out  a  new  barcode/label  that  had  her
store  name  and  phone  number  and  the  cost  of  the  book,  which  once
scanned, would show what she would be inputting this weekend onto
her computer screen.
The way her exchange system  worked was that any time  a customer
brought  in  a  new-to-her-store  book,  she  would  scan  the  barcode,  see
how  many  copies  she  had  and,  if  she  was  willing,  take  it  on  as
inventory. If so, the customer would receive a quarter of the credit of
the book's printed price. She would then turn around and sell the book
for  half  off  the  printed  price.  Then,  once  that  same  book  had  been
catalogued and another customer bought it, they could use half of their
credit to buy the book and the remaining balance with cash. If she had
too many of the books in stock, the customer had the option of keeping
the book or giving it to Lusting after Literature to donate to a variety of

organizations. Her favorite organizations were geared toward helping
victims of domestic violence.
Marilyn went into her kitchen and filled a glass up with some iced tea
and headed out the back door. She couldn't help admiring her home as
she cleaned up the yard. She was so proud and amazed at herself that
she was able to save enough money to finally have a place to call her
own as well as being able to own her dream business.
At  first,  her  parents  weren't  exactly  optimistic  that  she  could  save
enough money being a waitress to buy a house, let alone a business. But
once she opened her mouth about what she wanted to accomplish and
got  so  much  negativity  from  them  about  how  hard  it  would  be,  she
knew she had no other choice but to do it and prove them wrong. She
knew she could conquer that challenge. It had been hard. There were
many  nights  she  lay  awake  asking  herself  if  she  was  crazy,  willing
herself not to give up. But somehow, she pushed through it.
She  was  pretty  close  with  her  parents  and  they  had  always  been
supportive of her but they were also realists and always looked at any
situation on a how hard it will be to make-it or break-it basis. She was
lucky enough that they helped her with college as well as buying her
the  Jeep.  They  allowed  her  to  live  with  them  until  she  had  saved
enough of a down payment for the house. Her dad was still concerned
enough  about  her  living  alone  that,  as  a  moving  in  (or  out)  gift,  he
signed them both up for a concealed carry class so she could legally
carry the Glock nine millimeter he bought for her along with the class.
She wasn't surprised. She grew up with guns and rifles in her parent's
home all her life. Her dad was an avid hunter as was her brother, James,
and numerous uncles and cousins. She knew how to be safe with a gun,
whether it be a shotgun or a handgun, long before the class but it was
the  thought  that  touched  her  the  most.  That  her  father,  even  at  her
twenty-seven  years  of  age,  still  considered  her  his  baby  girl  that  he
needed to protect. For Christmas last year, he bought her a really cute
Smith and Wesson three-eighty because he knew that she put the nine
millimeter  underneath  the  counter  in  a  locked  box  at  her  store.  This
much  smaller  handgun  fit  nicely  into  her  purse's  secret  zipper
compartment.
It was a beautiful day out for early May. There was a clear blue sky

and the temperature was somewhere in the seventies. Colorado weather
was completely unpredictable. This time last year there was still snow
on  the  ground  and  if  she  remembered  correctly  it  had  even  snowed
again about the middle of May. Now, she had already been watering
her lawn since the last week in April. She should get a dog, she thought.
It would be perfect to have a dog that wouldn't run away, because she
didn't  have  a  fence.  She  could  take  him  to  the  store  with  her  and  he
could be one of those dogs who are content to call home anywhere as
long as there are people to give him attention. He could sleep out here
in the yard while she did her yard work. Maybe she would look into
that, she thought. What kind of dog would she get? A big one or a little
one? She would definitely get a big one, she couldn't imagine a tiny dog
running  around  the  store  jumping  on  people  and  bothering  them
nonstop  whereas  a  big  dog,  depending  on  the  kind,  would  just  stroll
around and remain fairly calm.
Sitting outside, she decided that was the next thing she would do. Buy a
dog.  She  enjoyed  her  glass  of  tea  and  basking  in  the  Sun  for  a  little
while longer before duty called. It was a beautiful day to be out, but she
needed to get those books done.
The rest of her day went by in flash. She input over a hundred books
that had accumulated on her table and noted it was well past six o'clock.
She rolled her head  around to get the kinks out of her shoulders and
neck and went into the kitchen to find something to eat. She  made a
turkey sandwich and took it into the family room to watch some TV.
Oh goodie, her favorite movie was just starting. She ate her sandwich
and watched the love story and couldn't help but think about the man
she ran into today at Rumors. Would she ever find someone to love her
like  the  man  loved  this  woman  in  the  movie?  Would  she  ever  find
someone that made her heart skip a beat? As she watched the couple on
the screen explode into a passionate kiss in the pouring rain, she could
hear her mother's words telling her that love happens when you least
expect it. She only hoped that was true.

Chapter Three
"Just start bringing them in and we can put them on the shelves once I'
m done here," Marilyn told her assistant, Kay.
Kay  was  a  retired  school  teacher  who  now  worked  pretty  much
full-time  for  Marilyn.  She  was  a  Godsend!  Marilyn  trusted  her
explicitly and knew she could have a day off here and there and Kay
would take care of the store. She had two other employees; both were
part-time girls who went to school at the local high school and helped at
the store on evenings and weekends. The girls, Mackenzie and Sophia,
worked alternating nights and, depending on their weekend schedules,
worked the weekends as well. With the exception of Wednesday night's
reading  groups,  the  bookstore  was  only  open  until  seven  thirty  on
weekdays.  The  girls  could  come  in  after  school  and  work  for  a  few
hours  each  day.  Lusting  after  Literature  was  closed  on  Mondays,
leaving  Saturday  and  Sunday  as  major  money-making  days  for  the
store.
"Yes, thank you so much for coming in. And don't forget to stop in for
our Wednesday night reading groups. They are a lot of fun," She smiled
at her last customer as she walked out the door. "That woman comes in
here  at  least  three  times  a  week  and  always  orders  the  same  thing:
medium non-fat caramel latte, no whip cream and extra caramel sauce
on  top.  I  keep  trying  to  get  her  to  stop  by  our  book  reading  groups.
She's super nice," Marilyn told Kay.
"Yes, she's one of the few who can honestly say she is helping you stay
in business, and I think it's more like five times a week," laughed Kay.
"I thought yesterday was your day off; why did you input all of these
books? You and I could have gotten them done today. Faster, I might
add."
"Kay, you know I'm alone these days and after I got my haircut, oh by
the way, where I ran into the most amazing-looking guy, I went home
and actually basked in the Sun for a little while and I just decided to
work on them. You know me, these are my babies."
"Wait, I'm still hung up on how you met the most amazing-looking guy
part and how you were alone last night?" Kay asked with a puzzled

expression, her chin pointed up into the air.
Kay was a single woman and wild beyond her years. Marilyn wasn't
sure if she would do some of the things that came out of her mouth or if
it was just her lips doing the talking, but Kay was spunky. "Kay! I do
not even know the guy and besides I already made myself look like a
lunatic in his eyes, I'm sure."
The ladies proceeded to shelve the books as Marilyn told her all about
her haircut and how she made herself look like a fool before she could
do anything else. In typical Kay fashion, she told Marilyn she should
have jumped his bones in the parking lot if he was that good-looking
and then this morning her blabber-mouthed episode wouldn't seem so
bad. Marilyn had to admit, there was some truth to that.
Business  was  unusually  slow  for  a  Saturday.  They  got  all  the  books
shelved and ordered a pizza for lunch and had a few more customers
mid-afternoon.
"Kay,  go  ahead  and  leave,  we  aren't  that  busy  today  and  it's  another
beautiful day out, go enjoy it."
"I' m only going to ask this once so be sure: Are you sure?" she asked
Marilyn in her most serious expression.
Laughing, Marilyn playfully shoved her shoulder "Yes, I'm sure, have
an amazing weekend. I'll see you Tuesday morning. Oh, and don't let
the door hit you on the way out!"
Kay,  already  heading  toward  the  front  door,  turned  around  and
laughed, "Honey, I'm moving so fast it won't have a chance."
Marilyn  stared  after  her,  smiling.  That  Kay,  she  was  definitely
something else. She was the best thing to happen to this bookstore as
far as Marilyn was concerned. She was great with the customers, she
loved to read and she loved all the little children that came here - giving
them  each  a  lollipop  and  making  them  comfortable  in  the  children's
space  that  she  insisted  to  Marilyn  was  something  they  had  to  have.
Marilyn let her have carte blanche over the space and they now had a
reading mat with a play area and Kay even held story-time once a week
for all the little kiddos.
With Kay gone, Marilyn went to the espresso counter and made

herself a latte - her favorite, she named it a Lover's Latte, raspberry and
vanilla syrup added into the espresso and non-fat milk. She had a few
more customers and at six forty-five, Amber swung through the doors.
"Hey girl, working hard or hardly working?" Amber asked as she came
around the counter and gave Marilyn a big hug.
Laughing, Marilyn told her the truth, "Hardly working. It is really slow
today, which is so unusual. Lusting after Literature cannot have slow
Saturdays, it's bad for business."
"Mar, Mar, Mar, you always worry about the bookstore, which is great,
that  is  why  it  is  successful,  but  one  slow  day  isn't  going  to  set  the
standard  for  future  days.  It's  a  beautiful  day  out,  all  of  Colorado  is
outside. Which is exactly where you should be."
Amber  was  a  lot  more  carefree  than  Marilyn,  which  explained  a  lot
about  her.  Amber's  current  occupation  was  a  fitness  instructor/dance
instructor/newspaper delivery girl. She was a trust fund baby. Amber
received  a  Bachelor  of  Arts  in  Anthropology  with  a  minor  in  dance
from the University of Colorado. Once she graduated she traveled the
world, on her parent's dime, and tried to put her degree to good use.
Now, she was 'killing time' as Marilyn so loved to tease her about, until
she found her next big adventure.
"I have an idea. When you close up shop let's go to the brewery and
have  a  beer.  I've  never  been  there  and  I  know  you  have  never  been
there, so what do you say? I hear they have a beautiful patio, it'll be a
cool evening but nice. Or we could just sit inside. But either way, we
should go. I will even stay here while you run home and get book dust
off you. What do you say?"
"Actually, I think that sounds great. But, I have to call Tyler and see if
he wants to meet us over there. He has been dying to get me to go to the
brewery with him and I told him I would go next weekend, but if we are
going to go, I need to call him." Marilyn told her the whole story about
how she felt like he had something up his sleeve and had been dying to
tell her about it. Although rather reluctant to ruin their fun girl's night
out with the likes of Tyler, Amber knew her friend and knew she would
do as she said so there was absolutely no point in trying to get her to
change her mind about calling, sigh, Tyler.

"Deal. Go get ready and I will hang out here till you get back. " Amber
shooed  her  out  the  front  door,  handing  Marilyn  her  latte  as  she  was
fishing her keys from her purse, and then Marilyn took off.
Amber sighed. That was good. When Mar got back they could just take
her  Jeep  over  to  the  brewery  and  have  a  nice  evening.  Amber  was
already dressed and ready to meet any hot young stud that happened to
cross  her  path.  She  was  wearing  a  black  miniskirt  with  a  royal  blue
sleeveless top that had ties on both sides of the hemline on the bottom.
It came up just enough to show off her  midriff when  she  moved her
arms. With her blond hair pulled up in a high ponytail, she was ready to
paint the town. Thank God she chose the black fuck-me pumps instead
of the flip flops she was going to wear that screamed "I'm tired and just
trying to relax alone." Because if Amber had her way, she wouldn't go
home alone and neither would Marilyn.
Of course, she knew deep down that Mar would be the one to go home
alone. Mar' s mind was that of a forty year old woman trapped in the
body of a twenty seven year old! She held so much responsibility for
the bookstore that she couldn't allow herself the freedom of a one-night
stand with some stranger she didn't know. However, Amber could.
Marilyn  got  back  to  the  bookstore  with  fifteen  minutes  left  before
closing. "I' m back," she said as she walked into the bookstore.
"Wow,  I see that.  You look amazing.  Where did you get the dress?"
Amber asked. Marilyn was wearing a black dress that was shorter than
she normally wore but she had fallen in love with the top part of the
dress too much to resist it. It was a long-sleeved dress with the arms
made out of tulle, showing off her arms under the outfit and the front
dipped into a V below her neck which was studded with beautiful green
sequins.  The  V  dipped  low  enough  for  people  to  catch  a  glimpse  of
what  was  lurking  underneath  but  not  so  much  that  it  gave  the  secret
away.
"I found it on clearance. I love it! Do you think I look okay in it? Is it
too dressy for Poudre Hops? I haven't had a chance to wear it since I
bought it and since it's Saturday night, I thought it'd be perfect."
Whoa, Amber thought, Mar's usual style of talking so fast you had to
listen close to keep up with her, almost made her do an eye roll.

"Mar, chill! You look absolutely amazing in it. No, it's not too dressy,
it's perfect. It shows off your killer legs like no other. Here, let's switch
shoes. My heels are a little higher and it will show your legs off that
much more. You are going to turn heads! " Amber began unbuckling
the  strap  on  her  fuck-me  pumps,  and  then  handed  them  to  Marilyn.
Marilyn  slid  out  of  her,  apparently  too-short,  black  closed-toe  heels.
This was a great benefit of being best friends with Amber and having
the  same  shoe  size,  Marilyn  thought  as  she  slid  into  Amber's  Jimmy
Choo, Jimmy Choo! heels.
"Oh  Amber  I  cannot  wear  these.  They  probably  cost  more  than  one
month's income from the store!" She was saying even though what she
was seeing on her feet were absolutely amazing open-toed, extremely
high heels with a cute black bow on the top of each shoe. Truthfully,
she really did want to wear them.
"Mar,  don't  be  ridiculous.  They're  shoes,  not  the  Holy  Grail.  Turn
around. Whoa, baby, you look hot! " Amber giggled, "Besides, if you
ruin them, that's just an excuse to get another pair."
Marilyn rolled her eyes so far back into her brain, she about passed out.
Only  trust-fund  baby  Amber  would  not  give  a  crap  if  a
one-thousand-dollar pair of shoes got ruined. Even after all this time, it
still took a lot for her to get used to Amber's nonchalance about money.
I  guess  when  you  have  plenty  of  it,  it  becomes  a  non-issue,  Marilyn
thought.
Speaking of money, she almost forgot to transfer the cash in the register
to her safe. She did that quickly  and turned to  Amber, "Alright, let's
roll."
Marilyn  flipped  the  sign  to  'Closed,'  followed  Amber  out,  shut  the
lights off and locked the door behind them.
"Tyler is meeting us there. He said he'd be in the parking lot waiting for
us to show up." Marilyn explained to Amber. She still couldn't figure
him out. Admittedly, she was a little curious about what he wanted to
show her. All in due time, she mused. They hopped into her Jeep and
headed West on Main Street toward the brewery.
Marilyn had to admit, she was excited about going out, even if she was
going to hang out with Tyler. Tonight was long overdue and she was

Chapter Four
They pulled into the parking lot of Poudre Hops Brewery, and true to
his word, Tyler was standing just outside the entrance of the brewery.
He was wearing a light blue polo shirt with khaki chinos, his standard
wear. Instead of his usual baseball hat, he had his black hair trimmed,
making  it  lie  neatly  against  his  head.  He  looked  like  he  was  here  on
business and not really to knock back a few, Marilyn thought. He was
standing  in  that  nervous  way  she  had  come  to  know,  the  only  thing
giving away his nervousness was his left hand continuously tapping his
left  thigh.  What  was  he  nervous  about?  Marilyn  looked  down  at  her
outfit and worry rose up in her throat. Dear God, please do not let him
think I dressed up for him. Please do not let him think this is a sign for
us to get back together.
She parked the Jeep in the one and only spot available and turned to
Amber, "He's nervous about something, I can tell. And by the way, I
really  hope  he  does  not  think  I  look  this  good  for  him.  Maybe  we
should  run  to  my  house  and  I  can  change  really  quick."  As  was  her
habit  when  she  couldn't  decide,  she  bit  her  lower  lip  and  looked  at
Amber with worry in her eyes.
"Mar, absolutely no, you are not changing. If he even thinks of hitting
on you, I will tell him point-blank you are so over him and, secondly, it
doesn't  really  make  sense  for  him  to  be  nervous.  We  are  not  anyone
special. Let's go and see what the deal is before I decide I don't want to
hang out with him."
Marilyn couldn't help but laugh, "You are so mean to him, Amber."
"That, my dear sweet friend, is because he is so needy of you and he
doesn't seem to understand that you have no interest in him whatsoever
except as a friend."
They both checked their lipsticks and got out of the Jeep. Marilyn never
noticed how packed this place got. Sure, she'd driven by it thousands of
times but there wasn't ever a real need to pay too much attention to it. If
and when she went out for a few drinks, they usually

went somewhere for dinner and ended up hanging out there and having
drinks at their table. She wasn't the real bar type.
For the first few years after she turned twenty-one, she went out to bars
and a few clubs but for her, it wasn't anything that overly excited her
because her mind was always focused on her great business venture of
a bookstore.
Aside  from  that,  she  was  always  the  one  serving  the  drinks  to  other
people. Since high school, her whole life had been filled with, in some
way or another, Lusting after Literature. Whether that was working to
save money or eventually working to make money, the past ten years
were filled with her store. She would not wish it any other way though.
She loved her store, loved what she  did and was extremely proud of
herself. Some day she hoped she would find The One, but she was still
happy. She had a lot to be thankful for.
They met Tyler at the front, where he embraced her in a gigantic hug,
"Marilyn, it is so good to see you. I am glad you ended up coming this
weekend  instead  of  waiting.  I  want  to  show  you  something."  As  an
afterthought he looked at Amber, "Hi, Amber."
Tyler knew Amber wasn't overly fond of him but Marilyn was the type
to treat everyone fairly as well as keep everyone happy, and he knew
Amber had to put up with him for Marilyn's sake.
"Hey Tyler, what's going on? Marilyn said you've been dying for her to
come here with you."
"Actually I have been. We are usually pretty busy on Saturdays but I
think I can manage to give you guys a quick tour -."
Marilyn cut him off, "Wait, did you just say 'we?' Do you work here
now? I had no idea you were interested in bartending."
"What  I  am  interested  in  is  being  a  business  owner.  Ladies,  you  are
looking  at  the  new  part-owner  of  Poudre  Hops  Brewery."  Pride  was
oozing out of his face, "What do you think?"
Marilyn  was  shocked.  Secretly,  she  didn't  think  he  had  it  in  him  to
make any business decisions on a day-to-day basis, but apparently he
was going to prove that theory wrong. It took her a second to digest
what he had told them before she could formulate any words to speak.
Amber jumped in, "What? You have got to be kidding me! You are

a part owner of this place now? When did that happen? Do you even
know how to run a business? How to handle managing people, let alone
how to do any type of accounting, ordering, ha, growing! Do you know
how to grow hops, even?"
Tyler looked a little hurt by Amber's brash, but true, questions. Marilyn
looked at him, feeling a little sorry for the position he was in, excited,
no doubt, but it didn't stop the look of truth on his face that he didn' t
really know anything about running a business.
"I  have  a  great  business  partner  that  is  extremely  knowledgeable  in
everything  going  on  around  here  at  Poudre  Hops.  With  his  expertise
and my money and socialization skills, we are going to make this the
place  to  be,  if  not  every  weeknight,  definitely  every  weekend.  My
understanding is business is pretty good around here but my partner's
previous partner wanted out for other reasons and he was apparently
one  of  my  dad's  clients  so  that  is  how  I  came  about  buying  into  the
place.  It is, and will continue to be,  a great investment. Besides," he
looked at Amber giving her the if-looks-could-kill-she'd-be-dead-look,
"I  can  learn  just  about  anything  as  long  as  I  have  a  good  teacher.
Speaking of teachers, how is dance class going for you, Amber? Still
teaching people useless skills?"
He  couldn't  resist  getting  a  ding  in,  especially  because  of  her
questioning him about his business; she made him feel foolish and he
did not like that.
"Okay, guys, let's go in and take a tour and make ourselves at home.
We  are  dying  for  a  drink  aren't  we,  Amber?  By  the  way,  Tyler,
congratulations. We are happy for you," she glared at Amber.
Marilyn always had to be the mother hen when these two were around
each  other.  As  they  made  their  way  inside  the  bar  area,  Marilyn
couldn't help but wonder how much money Tyler actually invested into
the place. She wasn't aware that he had much cash on hand to invest.
She supposed things could have changed for him and she didn't know
about it, but since he still called her and told her everything that was
going on his life, she thought that was highly unlikely. Where did he
get the money, she wondered? Not her problem, she thought. The bar
area was really quaint and cozy. There was a small counter on the far
side  of  the  wall  where  she  assumed  was  the  serving/ordering  area.
Along the longer

west wall there was a row of windows looking out into the garden that
held a counter and about twenty stools for patrons to sit on.
There  were  about  ten  tables  inside.  From  what  she  could  see  of  the
outside patio, it looked like that was the main seating area. It was hard
to see everything with all the people milling around.
"This is it. Business, so far, has been great so I haven't had to worry
about  my  investment  into  the  place.  I  have  a  great  co-owner,  which
really  makes  things  click,  if  you  know  what  I  mean.  The  outside  is
where we do our main seating. However, it can get pretty chilly during
Colorado winters so we are able to move our customers inside. It's not
as busy in the winter but we have adequate space inside the building to
host our guests. Lets head into the back so I can not only show you, but
teach you, how brewing works."
Tyler  was  enamored.  Marilyn  had  never  seen  him  like  this  before.
Granted,  she  didn't  think  he  knew  about  this  stuff,  but  he  was  sure
spinning a tale. No doubt, a truthful one, but hot damn, what had gotten
into him?
Tyler  led  them  both  into  the  backyard  of  the  brewing  business.  He
explained  to  them,  from  the  beginning,  how  the  hops  were  grown.
Explaining  to  them  the  malting  process,  the  mashing  as  well  as  the
lautering. He explained the boiling and fermenting. And lastly, he told
them about conditioning, filtering and finally, packaging. He showed
Marilyn  and  Amber  the  ten-barrel  system  that  Poudre  Hops  used  to
ferment the brew.
Marilyn  was,  well,  impressed.  She  couldn't  believe  that  he  cared
enough about this stuff to actually learn about it. The last part of the
tour  was  distributing.  Tyler's  favorite  part.  He  explained  to  the  girls
how,  once  completed  and  filled  into  kegs,  half  kegs  and  bottles,  the
beer got distributed across the country. The beer wasn't distributed in
every single state across the U.S. he explained. Only some states. When
one town or city caught on to how well the beer sold, other cities and
towns within the state began to sell it too. According to Tyler, it was
like the domino effect.
The  distribution  area  was  a  small  warehouse-type  room  that  was
situated between the entire brewing  system  and the loading docks of
the

brewery.
As they approached the distribution area, Tyler pointed out the many
benefits of distribution and the big impact it had on the company as a
whole.  He  explained  that,  while  they  weren't  a  giant  in  terms  of
distribution, they produced good enough regular and seasonal beer that
there was quite a demand for it in many parts of Colorado and across
the country.
They were still standing in the doorway from the building that led into
the distribution area when, from this distance, Marilyn noticed a man in
the back, who was hauling up pony kegs on a ramp and loading them
into the truck. Some were full kegs that the man lifted up, like nothing,
and placed inside the truck for future delivery. As she watched the man,
she took note of his stark white hat and absentmindedly wondered how
his hat could stay so clean in an environment like this.
Tyler nudged them forward toward the delivery truck where the man
was just walking towards the ramp to come out of the truck, and spoke
up, "And this is my new business partner, Blake Bryant. He is the man
behind every scene."
At the sound of that name, Marilyn couldn't help but snap her head up,
her brain wondering if it was the Blake she wanted to know. As she
glanced upward, into the hard-as-rock male, with the stark white hat,
she realized two things: one, she would never be able to masturbate the
same again and two, she would never, ever, feel like her normal self
again.
At  that  moment,  Stark  White  Hat  looked  down  from  the  loading
platform and right into Marilyn's  eyes.  Oh, that is how he gets those
wonderful  arms.  At  first  he  looked  so  serious  she  wasn't  sure  if  he
would  even  recognize  her,  but  then  he  smiled  at  her  and  those  eyes
hiding behind that smile proved to her that he did not forget her.
He  sauntered  down  the  ramp  and  prompted  Tyler,  "And  what  do  we
have here?" all the while eyeing Marilyn like she was a piece of filet
mignon for a hungry tiger.
He stalked toward her and she was pretty sure she couldn't breathe. She
could feel the tension in the air. She understood that at this moment in
time, she was his prey and she couldn't do anything but stand there and
watch him come for her. How is this even possible, she questioned

herself. Ohmigosh, that is exactly where he got those amazing arms. He
continued  to  stalk  her,  walking  up  so  close  to  her,  her  breasts  were
grazing his chest (!) and she had to point her chin up higher to look into
his face. She held her breath and waited.
"Who is this angel?" Blake looked at Tyler, demanding an answer. He
knew  he  heard  her  name  at  the  salon  that  day,  but  he  couldn't
remember.
"It's just my ex-girlfriend, Marilyn Jacobs. Not a big deal Blake."
Although Marilyn could not look over at Tyler, she could hear it in his
voice  that  he  did  not  approve  of  the  attention  she  was  getting  from
Blake. She heard a muffled cough from Amber, which she interpreted
as, Marilyn, holy shit!
"Marilyn." Blake made her name sound like honey dripping from his
lips, "I like it. In my mind, you are Angel, but Marilyn definitely fits
you. Out of all the breweries in all the towns and of all the world, she
walks into mine? It's my pleasure to see you again." Oh, he was good.
Nothing like a pickup line out of a movie made in 1942 to get her heart
racing, she thought.
He lifted her right hand with his left hand, oh no he isn't she thought,
brought it up to his lips and kissed her knuckles. His lips were soft, his
kiss was slow and for however long it was that they stood there so close
together, she finally realized she hadn't said anything! He must think
she was mute. Oh, dear God.
"I wasn't sure if you would recognize me." Her voice sounded husky
even to her own ears.
"How could I forget you?" She realized he was still holding her hand,
she  tried  yanking  it  away  but  his  grip  was  firm,  "Is  the  feeling  not
mutual?"
Marilyn could feel the dampness inside her panties, oh it' s mutual, and
quickly realized that was not what he meant.
"Yes,"  she  sputtered,  "It  is  nice  to  see  you  again."  Even  though
thoughts of the first time she saw him entered her mind and brought a
layer of redness onto her cheeks.
Blake took his time slowly looking Marilyn up and down and with a
gleam in his eyes, he smiled, "Nice shoes."

Oh thank God for Amber, he likes my shoes, she thought. She smiled at
him.
Before Marilyn could say anything, Tyler interrupted, "How in the hell
do you two know each other?"
"Oh Tyler, are you jealous? I am not jealous, but I am dying to know
too.  Please,  do  tell,"  Amber  said.  "Marilyn  how  could  you?"  she
gestured wildly with her hands at Blake, "And not say anything to me?"
She  stepped  away  from  this  sun-bronzed  Greek  God  and  finally
managed to get her thoughts under control. Blake let go of her hand.
Finally. Except now that her hand was free, she realized how much she
liked it being entwined with his.
"Okay,  Blake  and  I  met  at  Rumors  one  day.  Nothing  more,"  she
pointedly  looked  at  Amber.  "We  met,  said  hi  and  now  here  we  are,
meeting again."
Next to her, he chuckled. "From the look on her face, she is surprised
that she ran into me again. Isn't that right, Angel?"
"You  cannot  call  her  Angel.  You  two  don't  even  know  each  other.
Right, Mar? Tell him not to call you that." It was clear Tyler did not
enjoy this episode any more than he did Blake calling her Angel.
"Tyler, it's not a big deal. Nothing really." Was she still blushing? Her
face felt feverish. Blake was clearly a man of confidence, he did not
seem fazed at all about Tyler's attitude toward his attention to Marilyn.
Maybe  he  did  have  a  military  background.  After  all,  aren't  soldiers
supposed  to  be  all  confidence  when  fighting  for  their  country?  She
cleared  her  throat,  "Why  don't  you  finish  showing  us  around,  Tyler?
And Blake can get back to work."
Blake could see Tyler did not like the attention he was giving Marilyn
but he did not care. If they were truly exes, as Tyler pointed out, then no
one was going to stand in his way of getting to know this sweet angel.
God, she was beautiful. How could he have never run into her before?
When he saw her at Rumors, he wanted to ask her out and then when
she humbled him with her comments he couldn't think fast enough to
say anything and he thought he'd blown his chance. He hadn't been able
to stop thinking about her and now, like a true gift from Heaven, here
she was again.

Despite  Tyler's  attitude,  he  wasn't  letting  her  walk  away  this  time.
Tyler  would  just  have  to  accept  the  fact.  Of  course,  he  was
overthinking things at this point because he wasn't sure what Marilyn
thought  of  the  whole  situation  but  if  the  look  in  her  eyes  when  she
watched him kiss her fingers was any indication, he was confident she
would go out with him.
"I am so sorry. Where are my manners? I'm Blake Bryant, I own this
place.  I  am  happy  to  have  Tyler  as  my  new  partner.  Who  are  you?"
Blake stared at Amber with his hand out, offering her a handshake.
Amber  did  not  hide  her  amusement,  "I'm  Amber  Prescott,  one  of
Marilyn's  BFF's.  It  is  such  a  pleasure  to  meet  you  for  myself.
Apparently, Mar here, likes to keep good things a secret, huh, Mar?"
Amber looked at her accusingly while she shook Blake's hand.
"Amber, we've met one time, there aren't really any secrets to hide, or
for that matter, anything to tell. You'll have to excuse my friend, she
can be a little forward."
Amber smiled, "Nonsense. Tyler, why don't you show me where to find
a  drink  in  this  place  while  Marilyn  and  Blake  catch  up?  You  can
explain to me the different beers you serve so I can decide which one I
should order first. Let's go." Amber practically pushed Tyler out of the
distribution area toward the front of the building.
Being left alone, Marilyn started to get a little nervous. Her heart was
beating so fast she was sure Blake could hear it. She could feel Blake
standing behind her. He was so close, she could feel the heat coming
off his body, his breath in her hair. She slowly turned around, into him.
"Well, maybe I should go with them so you can get back to work."
"Not a chance. I am not letting you out of my sight. In fact, I am not
letting you leave here until I kiss you." His gaze was on her lips. She
nervously  bit  down  on  the  bottom  one.  "That's  all  the  invitation  I
needed."
And in that split second, his lips were on hers. Soft at first, but then his
tongue came out, prying itself in between her lips and she surrendered.
She accepted his tongue and kissed him back with all of the want that
had been in her body since she met him. Her hands went up around his
neck and she could feel his sliding along her ribs down to her

hips. His grip was firm as they kissed and nibbled at each other like
long lost soul mates. She could feel his erection pressed up against her
lower  stomach  making  the  inside  of  her  belly  quiver  with  desperate
need. She didn' t know how long they stood there, all she knew was that
she had to have more. She groaned deep in her throat as he pulled away.
"Baby, we have to stop or I will take you right here and right now. "
Blake wanted her so bad it actually surprised him. He knew he hadn't
had sex in a few months but it's not like that hasn't happened before. In
the past he could deal with it, but being in such close proximity to this
woman, he wasn't sure what had gotten into him. At work of all places!
He was a professional! What did this woman do to him?
"Oh my gosh. I cannot believe I let this happen. I don't even know you.
I  don't  kiss  strangers.  Ever."  Marilyn  was  mortified.  She  couldn't
believe she let him do that to her. Okay, she could believe that but she
couldn't believe that she would have let him fuck her, right here, inside
the brewery, on their first official meet and greet. Had he started to do
that, she knew with ever fiber in her being, she would have let him.
Blake chuckled, "I am not a stranger - we've met twice now." He said,
holding up two fingers as if she needed to see a visual. "And I've kissed
you twice now. So I would say we are a little more than strangers. In
fact, I only kiss women whom I'm involved with, so at this point, I'd say
we  are  involved.  Look  at  me,  Marilyn  Jacobs,  angel  sent  to  me,"  he
lifted her chin, "I have to see more of you, how would I go about doing
that? Whatever this is, I want more of it. Tell me you do, too."
Marilyn was taken aback by his bluntness. She never really met a man
that  told  her  exactly  what  he  wanted,  let  alone  what  he  wanted  ten
minutes after meeting her. She was a little gun shy, quite frankly, about
getting involved with him because she just didn't know enough about
him  yet  to  know  what  kind  of  personality  he  had  or  how  he  treated
women. Hell, did he have a girlfriend? Her gut told her he didn't but
that was the whole point - she didn't know him at all.
"Listen, -"
He cut her off, "I hear a 'but.' Please, no 'but's.'" "It is sort of a 'but.' I do
think there is definite chemistry between us. But how do I know I' m
not just another girl for another day for you?

I don't. I think we should get to know each other a little bit, don't you?"
She continued, "I know nothing about you except that you own a
brewery and that you're an excellent kisser-"
He cut her off again, "and that I get my hair cut at Rumors."
She laughed, "Yes, and that you get your hair cut at Rumors. But still, I
don't do this." She gestured at the two of them with her hand, "It just
isn't me. So, here's my proposition, if you are really interested, don't
ask Tyler about me, come find me...I will be lusting after literature."
With that, she gave him a peck on the cheek and turned on her heel and
walked off.

Chapter Five
Blake  really  needed  to  get  back  to  work.  He  had  this  load  to  finish,
which, once delivered, would gross a hefty profit for the company. He
took his hat off and ran a hand through his hair. What had gotten into
him? Well he knew what his problem was and it wasn't a what but a
who.  That  little  vixen,  Marilyn,  is  what  had  gotten  to  him.  He  was
acting on impulse and not taking the time to think things through. He
knew from past experience that acting on impulse could get him into
trouble. That is exactly what he did the minute he saw that angel. He
went over there all caveman-like, and did what his body wanted to do -
not what his mind thought he should do. Okay, he conceded, his mind
did want to do the things to Marilyn that his body wanted to do but he
had  sense  enough  (usually)  to  think  rationally  and  not  act  on  those
things.
But,  oh,  how  he  enjoyed  taking  her  by  surprise  and  kissing  her.  He
enjoyed seeing the surprised twinkle in her eyes the minute he kissed
her knuckles. He would bet money no man had ever done that to her.
Nor did he think any man would have kissed her the way he did, the
first time they officially met. He couldn't figure her out yet, but he was
definitely up for the task. One minute, she was laying it out for him,
telling him how gorgeous he was, the next she was telling him that this
wasn't how she acted. She was a mass of contradictions so far and he
intended to untangle every single one of them.
He fell for her challenge. Already thinking to himself, where would she
be lusting after literature? He understood why she said not to ask Tyler
about her because that would be too easy for him. Truthfully, he didn' t
want to ask Tyler about her - he knew how tainted personal experiences
could  be  for  someone,  especially  when  you  had  to  relate  them  to
someone  else.  There  was  always  room  for  error.  And  if  there  was
anything he took away from being in the Army for eight years was that
you did what you could to minimize any room for error. No, he wanted
to find out about Miss Marilyn Jacobs, aka Angel, all by himself. Okay,
lusting after literature obviously meant she liked reading, right? Maybe
she worked at the library. Maybe she was a librarian. Ha! That

thought almost brought him to his knees. That sweet angel dressed as a
librarian while he did certain things to her body that would no doubt
make her scream, practically had him drooling on his kegs.
As he continued to load the barrels into the truck, he kept thinking
about what she said. Once he got home, he was going to do an internet
search on her and see what it brought up. Hopefully, there would be
something there that he could learn about her. As it was now, she was
probably happy with herself that she got the best of him after he pulled
the kissing stunt on her. Maybe once this was finished, he would go and
see if she was still here or if she high-tailed it out of here like she did
the last time he saw her. That thought made him chuckle.

Chapter Six
Marilyn definitely needed a drink. She might need something stronger
than craft brew, she thought. She made her way through the back of the
brewery and into the front where she spotted Amber and Tyler in a deep
discussion. As she came closer to them, she heard Amber telling him to
'just let it go.'
"Let  what  go?"  Marilyn  asked  as  she  approached  their  table.  Tyler
looked  up  at  her,  he  didn't  look  mad  as  far  as  she  could  tell,  just
disappointed, she supposed. After what she just experienced, she can't
say she really cared what Tyler was thinking.
"Oh, you know. Same ole, same ole. Right, Tyler?" Amber patted him
on the shoulder.
"Yeah, right. Hey Mar, do you actually like Blake? Just give it to me
straight. I can handle it," he stared at her like his life depended on the
answer.
"Yes. I do. I don't know him all that well, but I like what I've seen so
far," a blush crept onto Marilyn's face as she recalled his hands on her
body while his tongue was wrestling with hers.
Amber winked at her, and mouthed, "You go girl."
"Can I ask why? Why does it matter? And is a waitress going to come
over here and take my order or do I have to get a drink myself?"
Tyler  gestured  for  the  nearest  waitress  to  come  and  take  Marilyn's
order. "I always had it in my mind that you were mine, even after we
broke up. But seeing the way you looked tonight with Blake, it made
me  realize  that  you  can  date  anyone  you  want.  Even  him.  And  that
you've  never  looked  at  me  that  way.  Bottom  line  is,  you  have  my
blessing. He is a decent guy. As much as I hate to admit this, Amber
helped  me  see  reason  where  you're  concerned."  At  that  moment,  the
waitress came to their table, saving Marilyn from having to respond.
"Do  you  guys  need  a  refill?"  Tyler  shook  his  head  no  but  Amber
agreed. "What will it be for you, Hon?" she asked Marilyn. "Right now,
we have a summer brew to kick off the season or if you'd like, I can tell
you about some of our regular brews we carry all year round."

"No,  that's  fine.  I  will  take  the  summer  ale.  That  sounds  great.  Just
check on us frequently please," Marilyn smiled at the woman.
"Tyler, I love this place already. The atmosphere is great. Don't you,
Amber?" She didn't wait for a reply, "I have a feeling that this will be a
great investment for you."
"You know, I have that same feeling. I need to get back to work now. If
you  ladies  are  here  after  awhile  I  will  swing  back  over  here."  Tyler
hugged Marilyn and headed toward the back.
The night wore on and the ladies had a pretty good time. They 'tested'
every  brew  the  bar  was  serving.  Marilyn  never  once  noticed  Blake
checking on them every so often.
They appeared to be able to hold their own, even after they drank, by
his calculations, four beers each. It was getting close to midnight when
he  saw  Amber  and  Marilyn  getting  into  a  cab.  That  made  him  feel
good. He would not have allowed Marilyn to drive, although he didn't
really think she was dumb enough to do that. Blake and Tyler managed
a friendly avoidance tactic from each other all night.
Blake held nothing against him from their previous conversation with
Marilyn, but at the same time he didn't have much to say to him either.
He wasn't sure what Tyler's stance was toward him at the moment. But
Tyler  didn't  say  much  all  night  and  when  he  did,  it  was  in  a
business-like manner. Blake couldn't wait for the night to be over so he
could get back to his condo to find out more about Marilyn.
He had the truck all loaded and ready for the driver tomorrow. In most
cases, they had one shipment every Sunday and they hired a driver to
deliver the beer. That way, all the beer would be available to the retail
stores  to  stock  on  Monday  morning.  If  he  didn't  finish  loading  the
shipment the night before, Blake would come in on Sunday, finish the
truck and meet with the driver, which wasn't always the same person.
Then, he generally had the day off. A fine time to hunt down this little
angel  of  mystery,  he  thought.  He  was  prepared  to  go  to  the  library
because  he  knew  they'd  be  open  tomorrow,  as  well  as  one  of  those
brand name bookstores that was located a few miles away inside one of
those outdoor shopping malls. He was really hoping he would be able
to  type  her  name  into  the  Internet  search  and  something,  anything,
would pop up

Chapter Seven
Marilyn woke up a little later than her usual time and went for a run.
She called another cab to drop her off at her Jeep and brought it home.
She was a little disappointed when she got to the brewery's parking lot
and there were no cars in the lot. She knew Blake wouldn't be there that
early,  but  a  girl  could  hope!  Her  day  at  the  store  was  pretty  busy.  It
went  by  fast.  She  made  a  ton  of  frozen  drinks,  which  was  the  norm
anytime  the  first  great  weekend  occurred.  People  had  the  itch  for
summer and with that, frozen or iced drinks.
She scanned in a few books she accepted for inventory and then she
planned  on  putting  them  on  the  shelves.  She  couldn't  help  but  think
about Blake again. Oh man, the way he kissed her last night, like he
wanted  to  own  her;  she  couldn't  get  over.  His  kiss  was  like  he  was
reaching into the depths of her soul and plucking out any hesitations
she may have had about him and lining them up for her to get a good
look at them. She was afraid of what that could turn out to be. On the
outside, he seemed great: confident, charming, a hard worker, funny,
easy-going, and that was not to mention his amazingly hot body and
good looks. But what was he like on the inside? Was he a player? How
many times did he go after women the way he went after her? He was
probably  the  type  to  be  gone  the  minute  he  got  what  he  wanted.
Truthfully, Marilyn had to ask herself, did she care? Was she looking
for  anything  more  than  a  short-lived  romance?  Did  she  want  a
relationship? Long term? After Tyler, she wasn't so sure. She knew she
was getting way ahead of herself but the business owner in her couldn't
help but think of long-term situations and analyze them.
She  wondered  if  he  would  figure  out  what  Lusting  after  Literature
really was. She figured if he was somewhat interested in her, he would
figure  it  out.  Hell,  if  not,  there  was  her  answer.  She  wondered  if  he
realized how easy her 'clue' was for him. All he really had to do was
look in the white pages under the L's and there it would be. Or drive
down Main Street and read business signs! She giggled at the thought
of him going to the library.

It was getting close to closing time and Marilyn was finishing up some
loose ends. She was running through some of the items on her to-do list
before she actually closed. When it was quiet and there weren't many
customers, she liked to dust and empty trash cans so she wasn't there
much longer after closing. She couldn't wait to go home and take a nice
hot bath.
Blake  was  getting  out  of  his  car,  looking  at  the  sign,  Lusting  after
Literature,  in  bright  purple  lighting.  He  smiled  to  himself.  After  he
went to the library asking where to find Marilyn, the librarian kindly
told him that she might work at the used bookstore in town. She told
him where it was and wished him luck. He didn't even know there was
a used bookstore in town, so he was surprised to find it right on Main
Street. He hoped she was inside working; he didn't want to wait another
day  to  see  her.  He'd  never  had  this  strong  of  an  attraction  toward  a
woman before. Sure, there were women he liked and slept with, but not
women that he  couldn't keep his hands and  mind off of. For Christ's
sake, he was a tried-and-true soldier, he was trained to think straight,
make no mistakes and lead by example and here he was leading with,
what? He wasn't sure. His dick? No, he felt like it was a little more than
that  with  Marilyn.  Besides  that,  he  knew  he  wasn't  thinking  straight
because  the  normal  Blake  would  not  take  the  time  to  hunt  a  female
down. He let them come to him.
With  the  brewery,  he  never  found  time  for  women  except  for  the
occasional screw, which was fine for him. He didn't know what would
happen with Marilyn, if anything, but that little angel had gotten under
his skin in a matter of days and he couldn't ignore the feeling.
He noticed the hours of the bookstore as he opened the door to walk in.
Good, he thought, just in time before closing. She was the first thing he
saw when he walked in. Well, her backside, at least. A mighty fine one
if you asked him.
She  was  wearing  some  type  of  black  athletic  skirt  with  a  turquoise
t-shirt. She was standing up on a small ladder, dusting some of the top
shelves. He watched her for a moment and appreciated the view. This
was the problem. Every time he saw her, it's like his body took over his
mind and before  he knew it he was  standing below her grabbing her
hips.

"You  really  need  to  be  careful  up  there.  You  should  have  someone
holding on to you so you don't fall."
He felt the surprised jump in her the moment he touched her but instead
of climbing down she turned and smiled, "Well, it's a good thing you
showed up when you did then, isn't it?"
She  killed  him.  She  continued  to  dust  while  he  held  her,  because  he
sure as hell wasn't letting go of her sweet little ass. "It is a good thing
I'm  here."  His  voice  was  low  and  warm,  it  was  taking  an  extreme
amount of will power not to lean in and bite her sweet delicious butt.
Marilyn glanced down and giggled at him getting an eyeful of her rear.
She  thought  about  wiggling  it  at  him  but  who  was  she  kidding?  She
knew she didn't have the guts to do that. Yet.
"Okay, I'm coming down."
He didn't budge. He held her firm as she climbed down. Oh boy, she
could  feel  his  hard  muscles  as  her  body  slid  down  his  chest,  her  ass
coming  to  rest  at  his  cock.  He  wasn't  erect  but  it  was  the  thought  of
where  she  was  touching  him  with  her  butt  that  made  her  nipples
tighten. She felt like she was in slow motion as she slid over to the side,
all the while pressed up against his crotch. She could feel her cheeks
getting warm,
"Excuse me," she whispered.
What was he doing to her? She turned to look at him and saw that he
had the same look in his eyes that he had last night, right after he had
pulled  away  from  kissing  her.  Now  was  not  the  place,  she  scolded
herself.
"I'm glad you found the place. This," she gestured with her hand, "Is
Lusting  after  Literature,  my  store."  She  smiled  proudly,  "I  wasn't
expecting  to  see  you  so  soon  though,  I  have  to  admit.  Well,  I  didn't
know  if  you'd  really  come  look  for  me  at  all,  but  definitely  not  so
soon."  She  was  rambling!  She  hated  when  she  got  nervous.  She  bit
down on her lower lip and watched him.
He took a step toward her, "It's nice to be here. Anytime you need a
spotter while you're up on a ladder like that, let me know. It would be
my pleasure to help you." He stared at her with eyes that were difficult
to decipher what he was thinking.

She laughed, "I bet! But since you're here now, why don't you help me
close up? You can walk through the place and make sure people know
it's  time  to  wrap  things  up.  I  will  change  over  the  sign  and  lock  the
door. Can you do that?"
"Blake Bryant, at your service," he grinned that lopsided grin of his and
walked off.
That man got under her skin! In a good way, she thought. Secretly, she
was thrilled to see him again. Especially since she had resigned herself
to thinking that wasn't ever going to happen. Now, after seeing him at
the brewery and finding out he was Tyler's business partner, as well as
Blake knowing where she worked, her chances of seeing more of him
were pretty good. She locked the front door and switched the sign over
to 'Closed' and went behind the desk to wait for any stragglers and close
up the register.
Blake  came  around  the  corner  with  a  young  girl  following  him.  She
was maybe sixteen and clearly smitten. He was being very polite but, in
typical male fashion, he had no clue that this girl was crushing on him
big time. She tried keeping her chuckle inside as the girl paid for her
books.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" The girl looked at Blake, "I
did. Thank you so much."
"Thanks for stopping in," Marilyn handed back her change. "I have to
walk you out so I can lock the door behind you."
The girl gave Blake, who was leaning up against the counter, a small
wave. "Thanks for your help," and she walked out the door.
Blake watched Marilyn re-lock the door and turn toward him. He kept
his  gaze  on  her,  and  she  him,  as  she  walked  toward  the  counter  and
came behind it to close the register.
"Is there anything else I can do for you?" he wondered.
That  was  a  loaded  question,  she  thought.  Instantly  her  mind  was
imagining their kiss and his words, I will take you right here and she
thought  of  him,  well  taking  her  right  here,  right  inside  her  second
home.  The  thought  made  her  cheeks  hot.  She  bit  her  bottom  lip  and
looked up at him.  There was that look in his eyes again. Flirty eyes.
That's what they were - flirty eyes. The look that said, you will be mine
and when I

have you I'm going to make you orgasm before I even get inside you.
Oh and P.S., once I do get inside of you, it will be the ride of your life.
Whatever. She hadn't thought about sex much lately and now it seemed
like that was all she could think about.
She tried finding her voice, "Why don't you tell me about yourself
while I do this?"
"There isn't much to tell. I own the brewery, well, partly own it. I've
done  that  since  it  opened,  which  has  been  about  four  years  now.  I
originally owned it with a good friend of mine. Before that, I was in the
Army right out of college, then, I ran your local credit union-"
Ha! Army, she just knew it. The way he held himself, his posture, all
the defining muscles in his chest and arms, the way his hair was cut, she
thought he might have been in the military. "How old are you?"
"I'm thirty-eight. I know, too young to run a company, right? Well, my
dad ran the credit  union and after college and the  military, I went to
work for him. With him being the boss, I learned everything about it
and got to know the board really well, so when he was done, I was the
next logical choice to keep them from hiring out right away. It worked,
I did well. I just wanted something that was my own. I wanted to move
around and work, not sit behind a desk non-stop. So, long story short, I
basically switched positions with my friend from the Army. We started
the  brewery  together  but  his  heart  wasn't  in  it  so  I  gave  him  a  great
recommendation to the board. And the rest as they say-"
"Is history. So where is your dad now? And your mom?"
"Where are they? Where aren't they? Both of my parents are retired and
living well. RVing throughout the country. So, the last time I talked to
my  mom,  they  were  leaving  Arizona  and  heading  up  the  coast  of
California."
"That must be really nice. That would be a great way to see the United
States. Do you miss them?"
"Of course I do. Aside from my twin, they are the only family that lives
close to me."
Wait, Marilyn's brain felt foggy, there were two of this man? Could the
women of this world handle that? Could she? What if she couldn't tell
the difference between the two of them? What if the brother

pretended he was Blake and tried getting her into bed? What if the two
of them tried getting her into - No! No, she scolded herself, do not even
go there.
She  giggled,  "When  your  parents  are  here,  you  mean?  What  is  your
brother's name?"
Blake smiled at her, "Yes, you're right, when they are actually here. My
brother's name is Blaze. So tell me about yourself, Angel."
"Like  you,  there  isn't  much  to  tell.  I'm  close  to  my  parents  and  my
brother, James. I went to college off and on, I waitressed like no other
to buy my house and this place, and now this is my life. Most days, I'm
here or home."
He almost asked her how old she was but quickly decided that it didn't
matter.  He  wanted  her,  no  matter  what.  He  continued  to  watch  her
count the money in the register and balance the books and watched how
serious she became as she did her job. She really loved what she did
here.  It  was  evident  in  the  way  she  tidied  up  the  place,  the  way  she
made sure everything with the register/computer thing was exact and
all the balancing was correct.
"Let me put this away and I will be right back." She held up her money
bag.
Realizing that he was a mere stranger to her, and she was dealing with
money, he walked away from her and went to the front door so his back
was to her. He didn't want her to feel violated or unsure about asking
him for privacy while she put the money away.
Marilyn  watched  Blake  walk  away  and  felt  a  little  pull  in  her  heart.
How sweet it was for him to give her privacy while she put the money
in the safe. He easily could have stood there and watched what she did
but instead took the forethought that what she was doing was private
and that he was still unknown to her. She put the money in the safe next
to her gun and locked it up.
"I'm all done, thanks for the privacy."
"You're welcome. Now what? Are you ready to go home? Or can we do
something?"  He  looked  disappointed.  "Of  course,  you  are  probably
ready to go home, right? Let  me write your number down and I will
go."

"No, it's okay. Stay for a little while. I would just go home and be by
myself anyway so the company is nice. Let's go sit in the other room,
there's a couch in there. Would you like something to drink? I can make
you something."
"Water would be great."
He waited for her while she went behind the counter and grabbed two
bottles of water. "Thanks." He twisted the cap off and looked at her,
"So, tell me, Marilyn, how you and Tyler came about?"
He wasn't exactly sure he wanted to hear the story but he did want to
know if she was completely over him. Because he wasn't completely
sure about Tyler being over her. In fact, he would bet money that he
wasn't.
As they sat on the sofa, she told him everything from the beginning.
Except  for  how  he  took  care  of  his  needs  before  her  own  in  bed,  of
course. She decided that talking about sex wasn't a safe topic where he
was concerned.
"And that's that. I ended it; I would never go back to him. What about
you? Any women in your life right now or the recent past?"
"Not really. I don't have time to date much since I seem to always be at
work. I'm hoping that will change with Tyler on board now. Before we
became partners, I had been dealing with all of the financial aspects as
well  as  the  distribution  area  so  it  should  let  up  now  that  I  have  a
business partner."
That is how it went for the rest of the night. He asking questions about
her  and  her  about  him.  They  talked  about  nothing,  but  somehow,
everything. She was surprised at how easy it was to open up to him and
talk  about  herself.  They  put  each  other's  phone  numbers  into  one
another's cell phones so they could meet again. Well after ten, Blake
insisted  on  heading  home  so  she  could  get  some  beauty  sleep.  He
waited with her to shut all the lights off and walked with her out to her
Jeep.
There, he kissed her so sweetly and softly it made her heart skip beats.
This kiss was so much different from the one at the brewery. This kiss
spoke  of  promise.  Of  what  he  would  give  to  her  when  the  time  was
right.  It  wasn't  an  I-need-you-now  kiss  but  a  kiss  of  patience,  of
genuine interest and one that was unhurried. Before he stopped, his cell
phone

rang. Blake wasn't going to answer it.
"You  better  answer.  What  if  someone  needs  you?"  She  said,  their
foreheads pressed together. Blake growled and dug his phone out of his
pocket.
He did not recognize the number, "This is Blake."
Marilyn  couldn't  hear  the  other  side  of  the  conversation  but
instinctively knew that this call wasn't good. The angry look on his face
as  he  asked  questions:  Who?  And  where?  What  time?  She  got  the
feeling  that  he  was  speaking  to  someone  of  authority.  Maybe  the
police. She hoped not because nothing good came from a police call at
ten forty five at night. After what seemed like hours, he hung up.
"Fuck!  Son  of  a  bitch!  Someone  hijacked  our  distribution  truck  and
stole everything inside." He rubbed a hand over his eyes. He really felt
like hitting something. "They tied the driver up and took the truck and
apparently, the truck was found a few miles away. Of course, empty."

Chapter Eight
"Oh  my goodness. Where?" her mind was reeling. Didn't this sort of
thing only happen in movies? "The driver wasn't hurt? Who would do
such a thing?"
"I'm so pissed! No, thank God he wasn't hurt. A passerby found him
hogtied along the side of the road. The officer said we were lucky they
found him this soon. It's usually a quiet road until morning time so he
hoped they could get some useful information from the driver and see
where it leads. An officer is going to meet me at my condo sometime
early  tomorrow  morning  -  a  sheriff.  I  cannot  believe  that  this  could
happen. I thought this stuff only happened in like, mafia movies?"
Marilyn had to suppress a grin because that was exactly what she had
thought also.
"Do a lot of people know about the deliveries on Sunday?"
He let out a sigh, "Damn, yeah, really quite a few. There are all of us
back at the shop, all of the people that place their orders with us and
that' s not counting the people at their store that know when to expect a
delivery. There are quite a few. The thing is though, someone would
have had to follow the driver from here. Because we hire out drivers,
we don' t always have the same routes. Sometimes they are the same,
but I wouldn't think enough to count on it. I guess I will know more
tomorrow,  hopefully.  If  there  wasn't  anyone  around  to  see  anything,
except  the  driver,  I'  m  not  sure  how  the  police  are  going  to  figure
anything out."
He suddenly looked exhausted. After that news, Marilyn was certain
she would look the same way. As he stared out into the darkness, only
the streetlights illuminating his face, she had the urge to touch him and
comfort him but she didn't feel confident enough to do that with having
only known him for such a short period of time.
His breathing was slowly getting back to normal, his grip on his phone
loosened and he looked down and shoved it into his pocket. His eyes
glistened  as  he  looked  over  to  Marilyn,  a  sexy  grin  spread  along  his
face.  "Thanks  for  listening  to  me  rant.  It's  probably  not  what  you
wanted

to hear on our first unofficial date. I' m sorry."
He thought of tonight as a date? Unofficial even? She'd take it! That
comment made her insides tingle.
"It's  fine,  don't  apologize.  It's  not  your  fault  this  happened.  In  fact,
you're  acting  pretty  calm  and  rational.  If  something  happened  to  my
store I'd be crying my eyes out, kicking and screaming."
He brushed a strand of hair out of her face, "and hopefully I would be
there to calm you down," he whispered. He bent his head and kissed her
again.  This  kiss  was  full  on,  hard,  and  almost  a  little  rough  as  if  his
anger and frustrations over the stolen beer was coming out of his lips.
He kissed her passionately and Marilyn grabbed his belt buckle loops
and kissed him back with her soul. Their tongues mingled, licking each
other's juices. Marilyn sucked his tongue and delighted with the little
moan he gave her.
She nibbled on his lips and he pulled away, "Come home with me." It
was more of an order than a question and as much as Marilyn's heart
and soul wanted to say yes, she knew her mind wouldn't let her.
"I just can't do that yet."
"What are you worried about?" he looked into her eyes.
"About how I would feel about myself in the morning. You know, walk
of shame and all. As well as if I'm a rebound hit for all the emotions you
have going on right now with the robbery. I hope you understand."
She hoped he would understand and not be one of those guys who was
going  to  get  irritated  with  her  for  saying  no,  somehow  thinking  she
wasn't an adult who couldn't just have casual sex. But to Marilyn, sex
wasn't just casual. As much as she loved it and loved the way it made
her feel, she still wanted to make love to men who cared about her and
not just her sex. To her relief, he nodded.
"You're  breaking  my  heart,  Angel,  standing  there  looking  so  damn
beautiful, telling me no. But I get it, and I am a gentlemen and that is
my cue to go home and take care of my problem myself."
They both glanced down at his crotch as he said those words, where his
cock was very much erect. She could instantly feel her cheeks catching
on fire. How many times has he made me blush? She looked up

into his eyes and he chuckled, "You are so easy to tease. I cannot help
it."
She  could  not  help  herself  imagining  Blake  taking  himself,  big  and
hard, into his own hands and working his magic. Would he do it in the
shower? In his bed? Amber would love her line of thinking right now.
Usually, Amber was all about sex, not Marilyn.
Although she said she couldn't go home with him, her body betrayed
her as she felt a little bit of jealousy rising in her chest, at the thought of
her being the cause of this and not being able to be there with him to
ease the pain (pleasure?).
"Earth to Marilyn? Oh my gosh, were you just imagining sex with me?"
He was definilty grinning now as he watched her become embarrassed.
He could make out the redness of her cheeks in the streetlights as they
became darker.
She  was  so  busted,  she  thought.  And  embarrassed.  She  cleared  her
suddenly tight throat, "Well, what I was thinking was neither here nor
there. I hope you are able to get something figured out tomorrow. Let
me know." She turned to leave.
He grabbed her arm, "Uh-uh."
He pulled her back around toward him and captured her between his
arms. He pushed her up against her Jeep, with his arms bracing himself
on both sides of her shoulders, his hard body pressed up against hers.
"I' m not letting you get away that easy. Tell me you were just thinking
about the two of us having sex. You were, weren't you?" His voice was
low and seductive, not at all condescending. She could feel his erection
pressed against her lower belly, she could feel the wetness between her
legs as he held her like this and questioned her with a look of desire in
his eyes.
"Answer me," he demanded.
"Okay, yes. Yes, I was," she whispered.
He  didn't  let  go.  Instead  he  surprised  her.  He  brushed  her  hair  away
from her ear and bent close to her, she could feel his breath on her ear.
"I've been having a hard time all night long, only thinking about what it
would be like to fuck you. I've been thinking about the many

different ways I would make you come in my bed. All of the places I
would kiss you and lick you. The one place where I would stick my
fingers and feel you shudder around them, making you scream my
name. Its okay, Marilyn, if you were thinking about having sex with me
because that has been all I have been able to think about. Ever since I
walked into your store and your cute little ass was in my face, I've been
thinking about fucking you non-stop."
With that, he helped her into her Jeep and left.

Chapter Nine
Marilyn  had  a  hard  time  falling  asleep  that  night.  She  couldn't  stop
thinking about Blake. One minute, she could only think of his hands all
over her body, the next she could only think of the stolen truck from the
brewery and what he must be feeling. For most of the night though, she
thought  of  him  whispering  in  her  ear,  all  the  things  he  was  thinking
about.  The  one  place  where  I  would  stick  my  fingers  and  feel  you
shudder  around  them.  Oh,  she  definitely  wanted  that.  She  now
realized, alone in her bed, how badly she wanted it. Her body was on
fire. She ached deep within her body for his touch. Why not just go for
it

she thought. And to hell with what happened afterwards. In this

moment, she wanted to be that woman. She wanted to be a woman like
Amber,  who  could  have  sex  with  a  man  and  not  look  back,  only
forward.
For once, lock all her emotions inside and enjoy the feelings of what
her  body  could  give  her.  But  she  knew,  as  well  as  she  knew  her
bookstore,  that  she  couldn't  do  that.  She  was  too  self-conscious,  too
emotional,  to  have  sex  with  someone  and  walk  away.  Especially,
someone like Blake.
She really enjoyed his company. The way he made her laugh, and how
comfortable  she  felt  around  him  -  once  that  initial  meeting  phase
passed.  He  was  very  much  a  gentleman  to  her,  in  most  cases,  she
thought.  She  wasn't  sure  what  the  rule  book  said  about  gentlemen
expressing their sexual desires to a woman outside of a bookstore. But
to her, it didn' t matter, she liked it. She was embarrassed at first that he
caught her fantasizing about him, demanding her to admit it, but there
was something in his eyes that told her he had to hear it from her lips.
That same look he gave her when they met at Rumors and she blabbed
on and on about his good looks. She chuckled to herself in the darkness.
That  mishap  seemed  like  it  happened  so  long  ago  now.  It  was  as  if
they'd known each other forever at this point.
Talking tonight inside her store really changed the way she looked at
him. She trusted him a little bit more. She knew that trust always came
after you got to know someone better, and she was still a little gun shy

about  jumping  in  with  her  heart  and  not  her  head  like  she  had  a
tendency to do, but after tonight there was some sort of goodness about
talking,  laughing  and  just  getting  to know  him.  It  made  her  feel  like
maybe he did want to get to know her, that there was a possibility of
something that could happen between them.
I've been thinking about fucking you non-stop. His comments made her
giddy.  She  was  secretly  thrilled  that  he  was  thinking  about  her  that
way. She  wouldn't admit that to  anyone, but she loved that his  mind
was on her and all the things he wanted to do to her. She thought of him
joking  about  'taking  care  of  the  problem  himself'  and  she  fantasized
again about him grabbing his hard shaft and milking it, she slipped her
hand under the blanket, inside her panties and finally gave herself the
relief she needed since the moment he walked in her life.
Two  things  were  keeping  Blake  awake  tonight:  Marilyn  and  the
robbery  of  the  beer  truck.  The  whole  idea  of  someone  stealing  from
him really pissed him off in general. He hated people who stole things.
There was a kid in his high school that stole from other kids nonstop.
He  would  take  silly  stuff  that  wasn't  worth  stealing  in  Blake's  mind.
Like, a library book that wasn't Blake's, a textbook - another thing that
wasn't Blake's and one time the kid stole Blake's wallet, which landed
Blake  in  the  principal's  office  because  he  had  gotten  into  a  fist-fight
with him.
Blake didn't understand stealing. He worked hard to get the things he
had. He earned them. Why shouldn't other people have to earn things
too?  Who  would  steal  the  beer  from  the  truck?  Random  people?
Random people meaning someone who didn't know Blake personally
or was it someone who knew him personally that was out to get revenge
on him? He couldn't think of anyone that he had pissed off in the past.
Definitely not any time recently. Mostly, he kept to himself, his family,
the brewery and some close friends he had. He was certain it wasn't any
of those guys. He would bet his life on that.
Maybe  this  was  just  a  random  act  and  somewhere,  somebody  was
sitting  fat  and  happy...and  drunk,  with  their  new-found  fortune.
Whatever it was, it sucked. He should have probably called Tyler to see
what he thought about the whole situation but the sheriff told him that
he would be questioning both of them in the morning so he wasn't too

concerned about not calling him.
What was he going to say anyway? Bad shit happened and now they
were out a great deal of profit? He also didn't want to have to tell Tyler
where he was when he got the news. Blake was a grown man, doing
grown-up things with Tyler's ex and while he thought Tyler would need
to deal with that on his own, Blake wasn't a dick - he wasn't going to
flaunt her around in front of Tyler if he didn't need to. Besides, what he
had  going  on  with  Marilyn  right  now,  he  wasn't  sure  how  long  that
would  be  going  on,  so  there  was  no  need  to  bring  her  into  matters
concerning him and Tyler if he didn't need to.
Boy,  did  she  drive  him  crazy  though.  In  a  small  matter  of  time,  that
little angel had officially driven him wild. He was usually the one in
charge when it came to women. It was usually his call on matters of sex
and, lucky for him, women had always complied. But not this woman.
No, she let him think she was putty in his hands and then she firmly let
him know who was boss. Smiling, he thought, and that boss is not me.
Not  this  time.  She  gave  him  a  run  for  his  money  and  admittedly,  he
liked it. He was intrigued with her.
Tonight, he enjoyed getting to know her and when he thought he had
her all figured out, she said something completely opposite and threw
him  off.  She  kept  him  on  his  toes.  He  should  have  known  that  the
moment  he  laid  eyes  on  her  at  Rumors.  She  was  absolutely
breathtaking and appeared shy but then she told him all these things he
didn't know he was dying to  hear, and when he saw her again at the
brewery - there she was, shy again.
But tonight, she wasn't shy.
She had made him laugh, she laughed at herself, and she was extremely
smart and down-to-earth. She told him a lot about herself. She wasn't
shy at all. When he kissed her, she kissed him back with an intensity he
couldn't  believe.  She  kissed  with  her  body.  It  was  like  her  soul  was
reaching into him with their kisses and he couldn't help but be sucked
in.
Marilyn did get a little embarrassed when he thought she was thinking
about sex with him. At first, he was only bluffing but the look she had
in her eyes told him he had hit the nail on the head and from then

on, he couldn't help himself. He had to hear her voice telling him that
she was thinking about fucking him. He had to see the look in her eyes.
Lord help him, he would have had no problem pulling her panties to the
side and making her come right there underneath the moonlight.
When he left her, he understood one thing about that angel, loud and
clear: when she did put her mind to something, she did it with her heart
and soul.
He grabbed his phone laying on the nightstand next to his bed and
texted her.
TO: An Angel
Good Night! FROM: LoverBoy
Marilyn read the text from Blake, right before she fell asleep.

Chapter Ten
The next day Marilyn was dying to know what the sheriff had to say
about the hijacking but she was too nervous to text or call Blake before
he called her. She waited and waited for him and about after ten that
morning Blake texted.
TO: An Angel
Went well No due as to who - caii me please,
I'm dying to hear your angelic voice. FROM: LoverBoy
Lover Boy, which is what she thought of when she thought of Blake.
He was so strong and yet so sweet, from the moment she saw him she
couldn't help but think of how he would be as a lover, as her lover. She
knew it was too soon to think of him that way but when he looked at
her,  his  emerald  eyes  shining,  smiling  into  hers,  the  way  he  touched
her, the way he grabbed her hips letting her know that she was his -only
his, made her feel things she wasn't used to feeling, made her go insane.
That is why he was her loverboy. He didn't ever have to know that is
what she thought of him, but that is what she put into her phone. So
anytime she received a text from him, LoverBoy showed up.
She texted back:
TO: LoverBoy
I'm  at  work.  Will  call  very  soon.  Maybe  we  need  to  start  our  own
investigation. FROM: An Angel
Blake read her text. He tried to ignore the disappointment welling up
inside him. Why was that feeling there? He'd only been around Marilyn
for a week or so; he didn't know what that meant nor did he care for it.
He shoved his phone back into his pocket and thought about her text.
Start  our  own  investigation?  Was  she  crazy?  Not  really,  he  mused.
When he met with the sheriff this morning, they basically had no leads.
No one saw the delivery truck nor had they seen any other vehicles.
It happened in broad daylight but apparently no one was the wiser. He
really didn't need this shit in his life. The sheriff had questioned him,

almost like he was the suspect in this ordeal. He told him what he knew,
which was not much. Blake did what he did every weekend - loaded up
the truck based upon the order's list and sent it off for delivery the next
day. Tyler double checked the list and the contents of the truck to make
sure everything matched up and off it went.
This morning he had spoken with Tyler and he wasn't too pleased about
the  robbery  either.  He,  too,  was  furious,  not  understanding  how  the
fuck  something  like  this  could  happen  in  broad  daylight.  How  the
police  had  no  leads  and  were  just  going  to  keep  looking  into  it.  The
driver of the truck said that masked men basically ambushed him off
the road, forcing him to pull over. The driver was more excited that it
was like "something out of Fast and the Furious," the movie, since he
wasn't actually hurt.
They did have guns which made him cooperate, quietly and quickly,
before they hogtied him. He had told the sheriff that there were three
men  (presumably)  who  got  him  stopped  while  a  fourth  person
"appeared out of nowhere" with a semi-truck to load the contents into
their truck.
Blake's phone rang, he pulled it out of his pocket and saw who it was,
"Hello?"
That one word got Marilyn's blood pumping so fast through her veins,
how was that even possible? How could one little word make her feel
like she wanted to take all of her clothes off and jump into his lap?
"Hi, it's Marilyn." She said a little too breathlessly.
"I  know  who  it  is.  I've  been  waiting  for  you  to  call  me,"  he  couldn't
resist adding, "Especially since I know some of your dirty thoughts."
"Blake! You cannot say that kind of stuff on the phone!"
"I can't? Why don't I come see you then and we can talk in person about
all  the  wild  and  crazy  things  that  are  going  through  your  mind?  If
you're lucky, I will not only tell you my thoughts, but I will show you."
He couldn' t help but grin. She was so easy to tease, he loved hearing
her so flustered.
She  could  feel  her  cheeks  heating  up.  Quietly,  she  responded,  "You,
you do not need to show me. I can guess and besides I am

working now and I do have customers that probably don't want to hear
that  talk.  Besides,"  she  couldn't  help  flirting  back,  just  a  little,  "I
guarantee you, I would have more to tell you than you would me."
This vixen, Blake thought, she definitely challenged him and he liked
it! "Marilyn, Marilyn, Marilyn, if you continue to talk like that, I may
just have to come to your place of business and do something about this
whole issue. Do you want that?" he threatened.
"What? Now? No, I have to work. Or do you mean ever? I don't know
about  ever,  I  just-"  she  stopped,  realizing  she  was  giving  into  the
teasing.  Okay,  breathe.  She  could  hear  Blake  chuckling  on  the  other
end of the line, "Ha ha, good one, okay. What else did the sheriff have
to
say?"
Blake  turned  serious,  "Nothing  much.  No  leads.  There  were  four
people  with  a  semi  who  loaded  everything  into  their  truck.  Masked
gunmen. That's it. I cannot fucking believe it. Tyler's pissed. We all are.
It' s a pretty gloomy day at work. The only good thing is I will be able
to pick up our delivery truck in the next day or so"
"I' m sorry Blake. I was only halfway serious when I said we should do
our own investigating but you know what? Maybe we should. The first
place  to  start  would  be  at  the  brewery.  Do  you  guys  have  cameras?
Maybe they taped something fishy," she said hopefully.
"We have a few cameras but I doubt there is anything on them worthy
enough  to  investigate.  The  cameras  are  all  mostly  located  where
patrons are so we can keep an eye on them. There is one located in the
loading docks but it would be mostly me on camera. I guess I'll check
that one. I've already given it to the sheriff's department. It only goes
back for forty-eight hours though. Any other ideas, Angel?"
He was surprised she was offering to help him find anything related to
the  hijacking  incident,  no  one  ever  really  offered  to  help  Blake  with
much  of  anything.  Maybe  it  was  the  attitude  he  exuded;  he  could
handle anything thrown his way, but this woman wasn't buying it. She
just threw herself into his problem as if it were her own. The fact that
she  was  doing  that  didn't  surprise  him,  as  he  got  to  glimpse  her  in
motion here and there, it was obvious she didn't do anything half-assed.
What did surprise him though, was that she thought he was worthy of
receiving

her help.
"Not yet. But my mind is still thinking so if I come up with something I
will let you know."
Blake  couldn't  help  but  smile,  of  course  she  was  still  thinking.  Her
beautiful brain didn't stop. His voice dropped, "Thank you for helping
me.  How  about  I  take  you  out  to  dinner  tonight?  Come  with  me
please?"
Was  this  going  to  be  their  first  official  date?  Marilyn  knew  without
thinking that she was going to say yes. Her heart thumped inside of her
chest.
"Okay. Where to? On second thought, why don't you just come over to
my house and I will make dinner for us?" What was she thinking? She
thought. She couldn't believe she actually just extended that invitation
to him! Was he going to think that was the go-ahead to have sex with
her?  Was  it?  She  asked  herself.  Okay,  maybe  on  some  level  she  did
want  to  feel  his  hands  all  over  her  body.  But  on  the  more,
personable-act-like-a-decent-person-with-respect-level,

she

didn't

want him to think that.
"Or we could just go-"
"Okay. I will come over. I'll bring dessert."
Oh boy, she thought. Dessert? So really he got away with bringing
nothing but himself? She tried not to laugh. She couldn't help if he was
the most gorgeous guy she had ever met in her entire life.
"That works. I will text you my address then. Oh and Blake? Make it a
really, really good dessert." She said in the sexiest voice she could find.

Chapter Eleven
Blake took his task of finding a "really, really good dessert" seriously.
What did she like? What was her favorite? What would make her get in
the mood to come? Oh, how he wanted to make her come. He was a
guy. He thought about that a lot.
Lately,  that  was  all  he  could  think  of  doing  with  her.  The  way  she
smiled and laughed, the way she tossed her hair to the side when it was
in the way - he had a hard time focusing on his life without her. He sure
as hell wanted to make her come though. He didn't even care if his cock
was inside of her. He was dying to see the look on her face when he
made  her  orgasm,  the  way  her  body  reacted  to  his  fingers  while  he
teased her and played with her, prolonging her need to come all so he
could  enjoy  her  reaction.  He  got  hard  just  thinking  about  how  she
would drive him wild. He finally decided on a dessert and texted her
that he was on his way.
Marilyn was giddy. She was actually giddy. Blake was coming to her
house and she was cooking dinner for him. She had made enchiladas,
so she really hoped he liked Mexican food.
If not, well, they would have to just go straight to dessert. She liked that
idea. She stuck the pan of enchiladas into the oven and went to her sink
to wash her hands. She already had the plates and utensils out as well as
a salad. He obviously liked beer, duh, but she wasn't exactly sure if he
would drink any kind of beer or if he stuck to what he made. Somehow
the thought of her drinking a beer that he actually made, (really made!)
with his own hands made her stomach flutter. She hadn't thought of it
that way the night at the brewery, but thinking about it now was quite
sexy.
She  decided  she  better  look  in  the  mirror  and  make  sure  she  looked
decent  before  he  arrived,  which  could  be  at  any  moment  now.  She
hurried into her bathroom, checked her hair, down and curly, her eye
makeup and smoothed out her clothes  - a white v-neck top and jeans
with a belt. She thought that was simple enough. She didn't want to be
too dressed up in her own home but neither did she want to wear

sweatpants.
At that moment the doorbell rang and the second it did, her heart sped
up. This is crazy, Marilyn thought to herself. It's not like I haven't seen
him before tonight, or that we haven't talked and texted back and forth
to each other. Admittedly, it had been a while since Marilyn had been
on an actual 'date' date, but this man had already kissed her, for crying
out loud, she should be feeling a little more comfortable than what she
was feeling right then.
She did one last look-over, tried to calm her beating heart and walked
to the front door. Before she had second thoughts about how she looked
or what he might think of her house, she swung the door open.
There Blake stood with his fist up as if he were getting ready to knock
again. Marilyn didn't think she would ever get over the sight of him.
The way his denim jeans hung loose on his hips but not baggy enough
to  look  like  one  of  those  punk  kids.  He  was  wearing  a  blue  flannel
buttoned long-sleeved shirt with traces of yellow lines  throughout it.
Even though it was buttoned, she could see the edges of a white shirt
peeking out from his neck. She could see the contours of his muscles
straining  against  the  fabric.  She  had  an  instant  urge  to  place  her
fingertips right in that little spot where the bones came to an end and
made that little indentation. She looked up into his eyes. Eyes that were
positively gleaming with a smile. Oh boy, here she was again ogling
him, checking out his body and his clothes and he was standing on her
porch holding a plastic bag of what she presumed was dessert, staring
at her like he knew exactly what she was thinking.
"Hi.  Come  on  in,"  she  was  nervous.  "It's  good  to  see  you.  Is  this
dessert?" She stepped back away from the door opening to let him in
and went to reach for the dessert, but he held it back from her.
"Uh-uh  Marilyn,  dessert  is  for  later,"  he  teased.  "You're  not  one  of
those women who has to see what the dessert is before you eat the main
meal so you can determine how much you're going to eat, are you?"
Where in the world did that come from? She wished she were that kind
of woman actually. "No, sadly I will eat you out of house and home and
expect dessert as well."
He stepped inside her house. Wow. When he stepped inside, the

room  actually  got  smaller.  Was  that  possible?  He  towered  over  her,
looking into her eyes. He was so large, his presence overwhelming, she
thought.
"This way," she turned toward the kitchen with him trailing behind her.
"You can put the dessert in the fridge, or does it need to be prepared?"
"No, just a little bit of dicing once we're ready but otherwise, not much
else. It smells really good in here, what are you making?" It gave her a
thrill  that  he  sounded  genuinely  interested  where  that  smell  was
coming from.
"It's  chicken  enchiladas.  They're  in  the  oven,  so  I  hope  you  like
Mexican food."
"How did you know that was my favorite?" he smiled, "Come here."
He reached out to her, pulling her to him as he leaned up against her
counter. "I've had an extremely long day dealing with this robbery stuff
and I didn't realize how wound up I've been until I walked through your
door. It's so good to see you Marilyn...What's your middle name?"
Marilyn cringed, "I hate when people ask me that. My parents are crazy
nostalgic. They still live in the fifties and sixties era. It's Monroe. And I
may as well warn you, my brother's name is James Dean Jacobs."
He  smiled,  "It  suites  you.  As  I  was  saying,  it's  so  good  to  see  you
Marilyn Monroe Jacobs." He bent down and tentatively kissed her lips,
pulled back, looked at her in amazement and bent down and kissed her
again. His tongue slipped into her mouth and she could taste the mint
from his gum.
For a second she pondered what he was thinking about when he pulled
back. Was it the same as her? Did he enjoy kissing her as much as she
enjoyed it? Did he want more than a kiss? Was she willing to give him
more? Even if her body was willing, was her mind? How well did she
know this man to even be thinking these things?
As they stood there kissing, she reveled in the feel of his strong arms
around her body, his hands resting on her lower back. God, she could
get used to this. His lips were extremely soft. It felt so good to be kissed
by a strong and utterly handsome man. She realized, it felt good to

be wanted by this man, who was patient with her and gentle. Can he be
rough  when  I  want  that  too?  Her  mind  questioned.  And  he  liked
Mexican  food?  That  was  a  huge  bonus.  She  could  eat  Mexican  food
every single day until it killed her. Literally.
Blake loved the way Marilyn felt. It was as if her body was made for his
arms. She was so tiny yet curvy in all the places he cared about and fit
perfectly  in  his  arms,  perfect  up  against  his  body.  And  she  liked
Mexican  food  too?  The  Gods  were  listening.  He  could  eat  Mexican
food every single day for the rest of his life and have no problem with
it. Lost in Marilyn, he groaned as he heard a buzzer sound and pulled
away.
Marilyn looked slightly flushed, "Ah, dinner is ready."
She tried to look unaffected by him as he looked so calm and cool like
kissing  her  senseless  right  in  her  kitchen  was  a  casual  occurrence.
Maybe it is for him, she thought and quickly dismissed the thought. She
did not want to think about him with other women, period. She simply
wanted to enjoy his company and see what, this, was.
They got settled at the table and began to eat.  Each of them drank a
beer, Blake not minding that it wasn't his. She was glad about that. She
glanced up at him as he started to speak.
"You know, if we continue to see each other you're going to have to
switch brands."
Oh-no, he doesn't like her beer. He is only drinking it to be polite. Her
face  flushed,  for  some  inexplicable  reason,  she  didn't  want  to
disappoint this fine creature. She  reached over to grab  his  bottle and
offer him something else.
"Whoa,"  he  yanked  it  from  her  reach,  "Hey,  lighten  up,  I  am  only
teasing  you.  I  like  this  beer.  In  fact,  next  to  my  beer,  any  Colorado
brewed beer is fine by me. I just wish I had come up with the whole "it's
not cold enough, if the mountains aren't blue" gimmick."
She was such a sucker! How could she not tell he was teasing her? It
would' ve taken just a second to register the twinkle in his eyes and she
would have known immediately that he was teasing her. But instead,
she let her initial reaction get in the way, which she did more often than
not, before thinking things through. Marilyn could feel the heat on her
cheeks, "I didn't know if you would drink other beer so I was a little

worried about it. I can take a joke, I promise. So tell me, anything new
with the case?"
Regrettably,  that  took  the  twinkle  out  of  his  eyes.  "Nothing.  The
sheriffs office is  convinced  it was a  one-time, random  happenstance.
You know, right place, right time kind of thing. The guys got lucky that
they didn't get caught. I don't think that though. Honestly, coming from
a guy who loads this stuff into a truck every week  - they needed the
right equipment, the right vehicle to load it all up and take it. I'm not
completely convinced it won't happen again, frankly."
"So what are you going to do about it?" Marilyn did not like where this
conversation was headed. What could he do? Take matters into his own
hands? How?
"I've had a few thoughts, but nothing worth repeating." With that being
said, he effectively closed off any further discussion about the incident.
"Would you like dessert now? I have a bottle of wine that I am sure will
go great with whatever it is you brought." Her comment was laced with
lighthearted sarcasm.
"Are you getting smart with me, Ms. Jacobs? I would hate to eat this
dessert  without  you."  His  eyes  were  twinkling  as  he  said  this  and
Marilyn couldn't help but smile.
"I would never do such a thing! Come with me, let's get dessert ready."
She held out her hand for his, all the while looking into his eyes. He
reached for her hand and gently brushed his thumb along her knuckles -
oh,  that  felt  good,  she  thought.  He  brought  her  hand  up  to  his
Made-in-Heaven mouth and kissed her so slowly and gently that if she
wasn't staring right at him, she couldn't be sure that he actually kissed
her.  She  liked  that.  She  really  liked  that.  How  could  this  amazingly
handsome man be inside her home, making her feel weak in the knees
after only a short amount of time? And with just a kiss on the fingers no
less! She was so in for it if they actually did ever have sex. She couldn't
begin to fathom what he might do to her in bed. The one place where I
would stick my fingers and feel you shudder around them.  Okay, she
did have a small hint as to what he would do.
Realizing that she was thinking about this with him gazing down at

her really made her blush. She looked up at him, at his mouth, into his
green, green eyes - "Penny for your thoughts?" he asked in a whisper.
Oh no! She could not tell him she was just thinking about his comments
from the other day because that would surely give him the idea that she
was  okay  having  sex  with  him  tonight  and  while  she  desperately
wanted to, she knew she wouldn't - she hoped. So she blurted out the
first thing she could think of, "Do you like Prosecco? It's chilling in the
fridge. I'll pour while you prepare dessert."
Blake wasn't born yesterday. He took note how Marilyn oh-so casually
disregarded his question and if he wasn't mistaken, he also noticed how
her eyes were dancing with passion only moments ago.
What was with this woman? He wanted her badly and he could tell she
wanted him, why wouldn't she just let that be? She was a fraction away
from admitting it to him but something kept holding her back. He was
determined  to  figure  out  what  that  was.  Blake  would  get  his  way.
Maybe not tonight but at some point he would figure out why she was
holding back even though all her body signals were pushing forward.
They  enjoyed  a  nice  dessert  of  strawberry  shortcake  and  Marilyn's
favorite whipped cream out of the pressurized can. Apparently Blake
liked it just as much, as they ate half the contents straight from the can.
They had drunk the entire bottle of Prosecco and were now sitting on
Marilyn's couch discussing the merits of a brewery.

Chapter Twelve
According to Blake, the most important aspect of microbreweries was
freshness.  "You  cannot  have  craft  beer  without  having  it  fresh.  For
people who truly enjoy a great beer, having it fresh is just as important
as the way it tastes - if not more."
She couldn't help but admire the way Blake talked about his job. You
could  tell  it  was  one  of  his  greatest  passions.  All  of  his  knowledge
rolled off his tongue like honey, his  eyes shone bright, and he didn't
hold  anything  back.  Marilyn  liked  that.  His  excitement  about  the
brewery made her excited for him. She realized she could sit and listen
to him all night long. He definitely had a way with words. She blushed,
thinking, yes, he definitely had a way with words.
"The nice thing about making your own beer is that there are endless
combinations  of  flavor.  You  can  make  a  winter  brew,  summer  ale,
whatever  your  heart  desires.  And  the  best  part  is  you're  constantly
serving it to patrons. While I experiment, they drink it."
Blake stopped and took a drink of his water, he couldn't remember the
last time he talked this much about the brewery. Oh right, probably to
the sheriff when he was being questioned about the robbery. While that
subject put a downer on the topic, talking like this with Marilyn was
nice, liberating. She seemed genuinely interested in everything he had
to say about his work. She was a great listener. He watched her over the
top of his glass. Her eyes glistened as she watched him drink his water.
"You really enjoy what you do. You don't meet people every day who
can say they actually love their job. But you do. I like that about you. I
absolutely love my job and I feel bad for people who go to work every
day and hate what they're doing. I know sometimes you just do it for so
long and get burnt out but I hope that never happens to me. I pray that I
will always enjoy whatever it is in life that I do. I feel like that is the one
power I have, the one thing I can control in my life - is what I do with
myself. Who I want to be, what I can do to make that happen and how
to actually do it. So, I admire that you appreciate your position."
They were sitting on the couch, Blake's legs splayed out in front of

him. Marilyn had hers tucked underneath her bottom facing him. They
sat close but not close enough, Blake thought.
"Come  closer,"  Blake  said  as  he  patted  the  cushion  next  to  him.  "I
promise I won't bite you too hard," he grinned.
"Well at least I get a warning that you DO bite. That's always good to
know."
She  scooted  closer  and  now  their  legs  were  slightly  touching.  Blake
moved his hand to her leg and rested it there. Marilyn could feel the
electricity between their touches. Was that possible? How can this man
do this to her? Every time they looked into each other's eyes, she could
see his excitement, his passion, his flirtiness. She hoped it was meant
for her but she wasn't sure. She didn't want to ask. But she knew her
eyes shined and glistened when she looked at him  and  she hoped he
knew.
"I had a great time tonight, thank you for dinner. It was really great."
"I had a great time too. I'm glad you came." He had that same look in
his eyes he had only moments ago. Flirtiness. Eyes that said I want you.
Flirty eyes. They glistened and shined as he continued to stare at her.
Her heart skipped beats. What was this man doing to her?
In  a  split  second  Blake's  lips  were  practically  touching  her  lips;  she
held her breath. She could feel the warmth emanating from him as he
studied her face. She could drown in his eyes. The green depth of them
made her think of the ocean. He was so mesmerizing, and when he was
this close, about to kiss her, she couldn't stand it.
She moved into him so quickly it made him groan. Suddenly, she was
in  his  lap,  her  hands  were  grabbing  his  head  pulling  him  to  her.  His
hands were on her back, along her sides, finding a place to rest. They
came  to  a  stop  right  near  her  bottom  along  her  thighs.  He  held  her
firmly as he swept his tongue into her mouth, nibbling on her bottom
lip as if this might be the last chance he had.
Blake couldn't make heads nor tails of how she continuously surprised
him. One minute she was acting like a timid mouse, the next she was in
his lap acting like a wild cat. He loved it. He loved how he could bring
this  out  of  her.  Almost  as  if  her  doing  things  like  this  were  only
reserved for special occasions and only he knew how to get in the

door. He was okay with that  - as long as it was with him, he had no
problem whatsoever with her getting wild and crazy in his lap.
She was dying inside. She was absolutely wet between her legs. Her
stomach clenched as if she couldn't control herself any longer. She had
to have this man. She could feel his hardness protruding from his jeans.
Her legs were spread around his, with her knees pushing into the couch
on either side of him. She couldn't help her hands. They had a mind of
their own roaming through the ends of his hair, along the back of his
neck, over his broad shoulders. His lips were soft; he faintly tasted of
wine and mint. Oh, Marilyn thought, he was such a great kisser.
Blake broke away from her, "If we don't stop soon, I'm not sure I will
be able to. You're amazing and you're driving me crazy. This is your
out," he paused, "if you want it." His eyes crinkled and there came that
lopsided grin she had looked forward to seeing.
Marilyn already knew if she spent too much time dwelling on what her
mind was telling her, it would win out over her heart. In this moment,
for  once  in  her  life,  she  wanted  to  live  and  be  in  the  moment,  she
wanted  Blake,  right  now.  She  was  not  sure  what  happened  to  her
adamant stance about not sleeping with him that she had only moments
ago, but she didn't care.
Instead  of  answering,  she  leaned  into  him  and  kissed  him  again.  He
grabbed  her  hands  and  held  them  with  one  of  his  hands,  "Tell  me
Marilyn, I have to hear you say it. Tell me what you want."
He was being demanding, he knew, but her eyes were alight with fire
and he could almost see a shimmer of doubt. He would love to take her
to bed, to taste her, oh God, did he want to taste her, but he needed to
hear it from her that she was okay doing this.
"Yes. I want you. Please, have me." Marilyn almost felt as if she were
begging, almost felt foolish but when she looked up into his smoldering
green gaze, she knew he needed to hear her as much as she needed this
look  between  them.  In  that  instant,  the  temperature  in  the  room
changed. Again was the electricity she felt every time she was in this
man's presence. Marilyn could feel heat, tension, release of something,
what, she didn't know, all pouring out of her body into this charming
man. Was he feeling this way at all? When she looked into his

eyes, she was certain that he was. The way he was caressing her body,
using  his  strong  hands  to  gently  massage  her  neck,  pausing  at  her
shoulders before moving down to her waist, she was almost positive he
had this toxicity in him too.
In one swift movement, he stood up, carefully holding her up against
his  body.  His  agile  hands  finding  their  rightful  place  underneath  her
butt, in that sensitive spot right before her legs began. Oh, if it felt this
amazing when he touched her there, what was it going to feel like when
he  touched  her  THERE?  He  didn't  break  away  from  their  kiss  as  he
carried her into her bedroom.
He could get used to the little sounds of pleasure Marilyn made as he
kissed and caressed her. He didn't even think she knew she was making
these  sounds  and  so  help  him  God,  he  was  not  going  to  tell  her.  He
loved hearing her sounds of pleasure. He enjoyed being the source of
her pleasure, he thought.
He made his way to the edge of her bed and instead of turning her to
straddle  him,  he  laid  her  down  and  stayed  on  top  of  her.  With  his
elbows holding himself away from her body, he broke their kiss.
"God, I've wanted you since the moment I watched your cute behind
walking away from me in the parking lot at Rumors," he whispered into
her  ear.  There,  he  gently  nibbled  on  her  earlobe,  inhaling  her  sweet
vanilla scent.
Marilyn  leisurely  moved  her  hands  up  the  solid  strength  of  Blake's
back.  She  could  feel  the  planes  of  muscles  that  went  from  his  lower
back straight up into his neck, spreading out along his shoulders. He
was such a man. And at least, for this one night, he was going to be her
man. All hers. This pleased her to no end.
She  wanted  to  please  this  man  tremendously.  Wanted  to  make  this
night  unforgettable  for  him.  She  knew  she  would  never  forget  it
because she didn't take matters like this lightly. But on the off-chance
Blake was more of a womanizer than he let on, she wanted to be the
best. Okay, maybe not the best, but whenever he thought about her, she
wanted to be close to the top of that list.
She had a hard time focusing on his words when his face was this close
to hers. She was memorizing his features - all of his freckles, or

beauty  marks,  as  that's  what  some  were.  Her  favorite  were  the  two
closest to his eye. To her, that defined him, his face and when he smiled
or laughed those marks stood out as prominently as his rebellious green
eyes.
Another  one  marked  his  forehead  and  he  had  a  smattering  of  them
going  down  his  neck.  She  idly  wondered  if  the  rest  of  his  body  was
marked  with  them.  Oh,  you  are  going  to  find  out,  she  smirked  to
herself.
His  eyes  twinkled  as  he  stared  at  her.  "You're  not  having  second
thoughts,  are  you  Angel?"  His  breathing  ceased  as  he waited  for  her
answer.
"No second thoughts. I was just memorizing your beauty," she told
him.
"Ah, lucky for me you have bad eyesight," he teased.
They  stole  another  moment  staring  into  each  other's  eyes  before  she
could no longer take the anticipation. She kissed him lightly on the lips,
moving to his cheek. She peppered his face with soft kisses, being sure
to kiss the beauty marks near his eye.
She moved to his ear, "Make love to me, Blake."
She wasn't sure if she said that out loud or if it was just a thought but at
that moment he changed. Gone was the soft and gentle man who was
waiting for her, gone was the man who was taking his time. He kissed
her  hungrily,  sticking  his  tongue  into  her  mouth,  demanding  her  to
open wide. He sucked on her tongue, hard.
Marilyn tried to move her hands up his chest but he secured them both
with one hand above her head. This made her insides scream. She loved
how  he  took  control  of  her  like  this.  With  his  other  hand  he  drew  a
small line from her neck, down between her breasts, to her tummy. He
lifted her shirt and made teasing circles all along her lower abdomen.
She  had  a  difficult  time  breathing,  concentrating,  as  he  slowly
tantalized every inch of her stomach. He used his fingernails and ever
so slowly scratched her tummy in long slow movements that made her
shudder.
Slowly, with his free hand, Blake began to move upward toward her
breast. God, he wanted to touch them so badly. This moment was all he
could think about tonight, especially when she had him feeding her the
whipped cream directly from the can. Squirting it into her mouth

gave him such a perverse pleasure he wasn't sure what to think about it.
Well,  admittedly,  he  was  a  guy  so  naturally  he  thought  about  three
different things. While he was squirting the cream he couldn't help but
naturally think if that was how she would be devouring, well, him. His
hand finally made it to her bra. He used his thumb to swipe the shell of
her bra. It felt like lace. His hand slid up to her fullness and cupped it,
much like her bra was doing, and pushed it up while squeezing at the
same time. Marilyn let out a moan in between their kisses. He had to
get underneath this thing. He pulled the top of her bra down exposing
her nipple. He reached over and did the same to the other one as well.
Marilyn felt defenseless. There wasn't anything she could do to make
her feel at ease and at the same time there wasn't anything she wanted
to  do  either.  Her  nipples  were  exposed  and  hard,  tight.  Blake  broke
from their continuous kisses and pecks and kissed her down her jaw all
the  way  to  her  breasts.  With  her  shirt  lifted  above  them  and  her  bra
below them, Blake had a small space to work with. He slowly grazed
her nipples with his teeth, biting her excessive flesh, moving on to her
sweet peaks of joy.
First, he caressed one nipple, licking, sucking and generally devouring
it before he moved on to the next one. He knew from past experience
that  you  couldn't  give  one  breast  more  attention  than  the  other.  He
licked this one too. Slowly sucking it and rubbing his tongue over the
little  bumps  that  protruded  the  minute  his  tongue  started  doing  the
dance. God, this woman was beautiful. In this moment, she was at his
mercy. He wanted to make her orgasm, wanted her to be in bliss. He
released her hands that he held above her head and cupped her bottom
and rolled them over so she was now on top of him.
She reached up to pull her shirt off, but Blake's hands came up to stop
her.  "Here,  please  allow  me  to  do  that,"  he  growled  in  a  low  husky
voice. He pulled it over her head and proceeded to find the clasp on the
back of her bra.
Marilyn could hardly stand this torture. She needed him, now. "It's in
the front," she stammered. "The clasp is in the front."
Blake couldn't believe his luck. This sexy smart woman was wearing a
bra that unbuckled from the front? The thought of her breasts

spilling  out  into  his  hands  gave  him  a  second  round  of  nameless
emotions. Traitorously slow, his hands swept around her back, rubbing
his calloused hands slowly along her exposed nipples, seeking out the
clasp. He fumbled with it for a moment, and finally, pure bliss swept
through him.
Her  breasts  came  spilling  out  of  the  sheer  lace  just  as  he  had
anticipated. He knew he was staring, but my God, how could he help
himself?  What  was  it  with  this  woman  that  made  him  buckle  at  the
knees? Had he seen breasts as beautiful as hers before? For the life of
him, he could not remember. He couldn't even remember the last time
he was in a similar situation.
This is what she did to him. In a few short days, she had weaved herself
into his mind so strongly, he couldn't think what his life was like before
this - before her. Was he that dense? Was his life missing that much that
one week with this magnificent beauty made him realize that?
The  minute  Blake  opened  up  her  bra,  she  threw  her  head  back  in
surrender.  Finally,  they  were  free.  She  was  dying  for  him  to  get  the
damn bra off of her and it felt like it was never going to happen. Her
back arched, and it took Blake a second before he covered her breasts
with his strong hands.
His fingertips gently strolled over each nipple, where he gently plucked
and  thumbed  them  until  they  became  hard.  He  needed  to  have  them
inside his mouth. That was all he could think about. He pulled Marilyn
closer to him as he leaned up from the bed. In a semi-awkward position,
he found her right nipple and drug it into his mouth. Marilyn squealed.
He used his tongue to make slow circles over it, he bit it, and nibbled,
teased it, all the while she was squirming in his lap. He moved to the
other one and performed the same tongue dance as with the first. She
continued to grind into his erection, begging for more.
Marilyn's hands were fumbling with his shirt, trying to undo all of the
buttons without popping them off. She had to feel his skin underneath
her.  She  had  to  press  her  breasts  into  his  chest  and  feel  his  skin
touching hers. She finally got the buttons undone, and pulled it open,
helping him free his arms. She grabbed the bottom of his white

shirt and helped him pull it up and over his head.
Once,  she  looked  down  at  his  shirtless  self,  her  world  stopped.  She
couldn't breathe. His upper torso was all sinewy muscle - there was no
fat on this Greek God. All she could do was stare at his sun-kissed skin
and drool. She let out her breath, which was crazy because it felt like
she couldn't breathe. It was as if time stood still and in the semi-dark,
all she could hear was the mingling of their deep breathes, sucking in
air, breathing it out.
In  the  silence,  as  they  continued  to  devour  each  other's  looks  and
memorize the lines of each other's bodies, a shrill ringing interrupted
their thoughts. Both of them stared at each other in surprised wonder.
Marilyn knew it wasn't her phone because that was not her ringtone. As
the sound came screaming again, Blake was finally able to focus and
reached  into  his  pocket  for  his  phone.  No,  where  the  hell  was  it,  he
questioned.  He  blindly  reached  around  her  bed  trying  to  make  the
maddening sound stop. Ah, there.
"This is Blake," his voice sounded too hoarse, a little shaky.
Of  all  the  luck,  Marilyn  thought.  She  quickly  scrambled  off  Blake,
suddenly too conscious of her nakedness. She found her bra and shirt
and  quickly  put  them  back  on,  silently  scolding  herself  for  her
trembling  fingers.  Ohmigosh,  get  a  grip!  What  was  she  doing?  She
totally wanted this to happen but she had reasoned with herself to hold
out, to take it slow. Now, in one fell swoop, she was ready to give it all
up. One touch from Blake and here she was ready to forego all of her
rationale. She was too busy scolding herself that she wasn't even aware
when Blake was off the phone, until he reached out and touched her
shoulder. She jumped.
"I guess that ruined the moment, right?"
The room was faintly light by her bedside lamp and the brightness from
her alarm clock and she could faintly  make out the soft smile on his
face, the corners of his eyes crinkling just a little.
She had a hard time looking him in the eyes. She felt like such a fool.
One, she was so mad at herself for going against her values. Her own!
She didn't want a one-night fling and here she was just going to throw
all that reasoning down the drain in one night! What was wrong with
her?

Two, she was ashamed of herself for acting so wanton with a man she
knew less than a week! He must have noticed something was up by the
way she couldn't seem to bring her eyes to look into his. She felt him
get off the bed and he knelt beside her, "Hey, what's wrong? Look at
me." He grabbed her chin with his hand, "Is it something I did? Was it
the phone call? It was just the police-"
She cut him off, "No, it wasn't that, I just feel a little silly is all."
Quickly trying to change the subject, she asked, "What did they
say?"
He looked at her completely befuddled. She looked lost, her beautiful
hazel eyes looked stormy.
"Let's get to that in a second. Why do you feel silly? You are the most
amazing  woman  I have ever  met. You are beautiful  Marilyn. Please,
I'm dying here, tell me what's going on in that beautiful head of yours."
She couldn't handle the way Blake was looking at her. He was so sweet.
Here was this Greek God with his sun-kissed skin looking at her like he
was  about  to  conquer  and  kill  all  and  she  felt  like  she  was  playing
childish games.
"It's...well," she stumbled over her words, "I desperately want you but
before  this  happened,"  she  gestured  between  them  with  her  hand,  "I
was  committed  to  myself  that  I  didn't  want  to  have  just  a  one-night
thing with you and look at me! Here I was going to give it all up and
forego what I had chosen for myself and it disappoints me. It's not you.
It's what I had my standards up for myself and I'm ashamed of myself."
She was not going to cry, don't cry. She could feel the wetness in her
eyes building up. Blink, blink, don't let them come out.
Blake really wanted to laugh, not in spite of her but because she was
such a breath of fresh air - so unlike all of the women he got involved
with. She was clearly a sexual goddess and yet so prim and proper, it
drove him insane trying to figure her out. And just a fling for one night?
Was that what this was? Is that what she thought this was? Is that what
he  wanted?  No.  He  knew  that  answer  immediately.  He  did  not  want
only one night with this angel. Okay, maybe if the Earth was about to
burn away and crumble and he had to pick one person to spend the

night with, he'd choose her. But, that was not happening any time soon
as far as he knew.
"Oh Angel, listen to me. Do you want just to have sex just one night?
One time? Because I can honestly tell you that I don't. But that doesn't
mean I want a heavy relationship either. Boy, I don't know what I want
when it comes to you. All I know is how you make me laugh. How you
laugh  at  me  and  with  me  and  how  you  have  a  tendency  to  tell  me
exactly  what  you're  thinking  despite  the  repercussions.  You  are  a
breath of fresh air for me. Completely unlike other women I've met and
been with. I'm sorry for rushing you into something you don't want-"
Marilyn cut Blake off, that is absolutely NOT what she wanted him to
think. "You weren't rushing me into anything. I am just as responsible
for this as you. And believe me when I say I want you. Tremendously.
But for me sex, is something I take seriously and I was all in for it until
you got that call and I had time to think about it. Otherwise, I would
have been all yours."
"Damnation  to  cell  phones!  "  Blake  chuckled.  With  a  more  serious
tone, he went on, "It was the police. The officer, Jim, wants me to go to
the  station  tomorrow  and  answer  a  few  more  questions  and  fill  out
some paperwork. The guy was calling now because his shift ends in the
morning and wanted me to get over there while he was still on duty."
Blake  reached  over  and  grabbed  his  shirt,  putting  himself  back
together.
"I  am  sorry  for  teasing  you,"  Marilyn  was  sincere.  Still,  a  little
embarrassed but happy that he knew what she was feeling. He seemed
content with it too and that fact made her just as happy.
There was that lopsided grin again. He shook his head, "Don't be. The
way I see it, this is more of an assignment for the real test. Now, I can
be sure of exactly what to expect when the moment happens. Because it
will happen, you know?" his voice dropped lower, he reached out and
grabbed her arm, "And when it does, you and I will both be regretful
that it didn't happen sooner. I can promise you that."
Marilyn smiled, "I'm sure we will," she giggled.

Chapter Thirteen
All of the following week, Marilyn was extremely busy. Monday she
had plans with Amber and their other friends, Gabbie and Brandi. They
had spent the day in downtown Fort Collins, mostly window-shopping
and gossiping. They ate lunch at the Bent Fork and on their way home,
stopped at the local firing range and sharpened their skills.
Before Marilyn, none of her friends had believed in the importance of
concealed weapons. Amber, nor Brandi and Gabbie, had been too big
on  the  whole  right-to-carry  idea.  Then,  more  and  more  people  were
becoming targets of home invasions and that was not going to happen
to Marilyn. Or her friends if she had anything to say about it.
She  continued  pressuring  them,  insisting  that  a  single  woman  living
alone  should  have  adequate  protection  in  case  of  an  intruder.  They
relented.
Needless to say, she was ecstatic that she finally talked her friends into
getting  the  training.  It  was  a  full  day  class  and  then  you  went  to  the
sheriff's office and applied for the permit. Easy peasy lemon squeezy.
Then, once they all had bought their handguns, they became religious
about making target practicing a priority. What good was a gun if you
didn't know how to use it? If not once a week, the girls got together at
least every two weeks and headed to the firing range.
Perfect for a girls day out.
The following day she was extremely busy at work, and then she met
her parents and her brother for dinner and was in bed by eight-thirty,
exhausted. The rest of her week was much of the same. Work was more
than  normal  busy.  Her  espresso  machine  was  running  overtime.
Hopefully, that was a good sign for the coming summer months.
She had spoken with Blake here and there, mostly by text. He, too, was
busy. When their load had gotten stolen, they had to make up for lost
product and money.
Because Poudre Hops wasn't a mega-brewery, they didn't have a ton of
excess product. Enough to get by something like this happening

one time, but if it happened more than once, they'd be in big trouble. He
was still in the process of dealing with their insurance to see what, if
anything, the company covered as far as stolen product. Mostly, she
talked to him at night before she went to sleep. Her change of heart last
time they were together seemed like weeks ago.
They texted back and forth every night since; sometimes she'd get
sweet messages from him during the day about how he was thinking
about his angel and that'd be it. Nothing more until the evening. Here it
was Saturday night, well past closing hours and she was just turning
into
her driveway. She was exhausted. Again. Her phone buzzed with a
message as she let herself in the front door. It was Blake.
TO: An Angel
Do you always come home alone in the dark? FROM: Lover Boy
What? She thought. How does he know I'm home? She looked out into
the street and there under the pale street light, he was just getting out of
his sleek silver vehicle. Wow. That car company really needed to put
him in their ads. They'd sell plenty of vehicles with a man that looked
like that! And he was walking toward her! Her heart beat double-time
and her breathing sped up as she watched his slow saunter across the
street toward her. She envied his stroll of confidence when all she felt
were  nerves.  He  was  wearing  a  black  windbreaker  to  ward  off  the
evening  chill,  open  at  the  front  with  another  buttoned-up  shirt.  She
couldn't  tell  if he  wore  another  shirt  underneath  from  this  angle.  His
hair was tousled, the lights making his blondish tips stand out. He wore
regular denim jeans with loafers. Yummy.
She swallowed as he reached her.
"Surprised to see me?"
"More than you'll ever know," she answered truthfully.
"Will you allow me the pleasure of a ki-?" Before he finished, Marilyn
was  already  in  his  arms,  planting  her  lips  up  against  his.  She  hadn't
realized how much she had missed him. Talking and texting was fine,
but it wasn't this. Slow and sweet, his tongue grazed her lips, seeking
entrance into her sweet salvation. Their tongues collided, Blake

nibbling on her lips, she sucking his. They slowly pulled apart.
His lopsided grin was back, "It's good to see you."
"The same to you. Would you care to come in?"
"I would love to but all I can think about is making love to you and I
don't want to let my good intentions go awry. I had to see you, Angel,
and wish you a good night's sleep. Otherwise, I'll see you tomorrow."
Although  she  was  sure  she  was  blushing,  she  felt  extremely
disappointed  that  he  wasn't  staying,  "Oh.  Well,  okay.  I'm  glad  you
stopped by but I wish you'd stay and visit."
"I'm utterly exhausted and I have a meeting at eight in the morning with
a potential client and I know you must be tired too. Really, I just had to
see you and say goodnight. I'm sorry. Please forgive me?"
"You know I will. Good night to you too."
Blake  was  instantly  pressed  up  against  her,  taking  her  bottom  lip
between his teeth. She could feel his hardness pressing up against her
lower  tummy  and  wished  like  hell  she  could  go  to  bed  with  him.
Tonight.  He  kissed  her  languidly,  caressing  her  lower  back,  making
sounds escape from her mouth.
"Bye," and just like that he was strolling across the street toward his
car. She stood on her porch and watched him get into his car. He put his
hand up in salute and drove off.
Marilyn thought of Blake's parting words as she settled in for the night.
She wondered if he always set up meetings for Sunday. She knew he
went every Sunday to finish shipments and paperwork. He usually had
the rest of the day free, but she didn't think he usually had  meetings
then.
She changed into her pajamas and made herself a cup of hot tea.
Ahh, what a day, she thought, as she cuddled into the couch. Work was
stressful today and seeing Blake made her realize how much more of
him
she wanted to see. She reached for her phone.
TO: Lover Boy
Are you awake? Tfianks for coming to see me. FROM: An Angel
Blake chuckled at his cell phone. Was he awake? If she only knew.

Yes, he was awake alright. No different from last night or the night
before. Hell, ever since he'd met Marilyn he hadn't had a very good
night's sleep. He tossed and turned, thinking about her beautiful smile.
What it would be like to make sweet love to her? He already knew he
was a goner. When was the last time he thought of making sweet love
to
a  woman?  Had  he  ever  thought  that?  About  any  woman?  No,  he
couldn't
remember. He knew he thought about taking a woman to bed and
making sure he was out of there before daylight. He fucked them
senseless, giving them more, in some cases, then they gave him.
TO: An Angel
I am. D o  you think I can sleep with a hard-on? FROM: LoverBoy
That'll get her blushing, he knew.
Ohmigosh! Did he just tell her that? She couldn't believe it. She could
feel her cheeks warming up at the thought of him lying in bed, being ...
uncomfortable. Ha-ha, she'll get him back, she thought.
TO: LoverBoy
Wow. I've noticed how big it is too! Are you going to take care of your
problem? FROM: An Angel
Before she could change her mind, she hit send.
That  little  vixen!  He  knew  she  was  doing  this  to  shock  him.  And
because he wasn't near her to have his way with her, she had nothing to
fear.
TO: An Angel
U are unbeJiey 'able!    Why don t U come over here and help me? I'm
not very far away AND there are plenty of things U and I could do to
each other that don't include sex.
FROM: LoverBoy
He was making her hot and heavy now. What things would they do?
People can do these things and NOT have sex? In her, albeit, limited,
experience, that never was the case. Sex always happened.

TO: Lover Boy
Like what? FROM: An Angel
Blake couldn't stop chuckling. He couldn't decide what he should do:
show up at her place right this minute, or describe to her all the things
he planned on doing to her. He knew it was very late - he went for the
latter. This should be good, he thought.
TO: An Angel
Like how I would peel ur panties off ur butt and
down ur legs and kiss u back up those same
sweet legs. Then, after- a few minutes of sweet
torture, I'd make u cum with my tongue. FROM: Lover Boy
TO: An Angel
How does something like that sound?! FROM: Lover Boy
Marilyn really couldn't breathe. This man was too confident. And sexy.
And extremely good with words! She could feel the yearning heat in
the pit of her stomach as she thought about his words. She could feel
his hands roaming all over her body, traveling down her legs and back
up. Pulling the silky material away from her sex and sliding them down
past her feet. She could feel his taut muscles as his hands spread open
her legs and he positioned himself in between her. He would be able to
bring her to climax in no time flat, she just knew.
TO: LoverBoy
That sounds RE

Y good. So good, that I'm

going to have to settle on using MY fingers
until I can have the real thing. Sweet Dreams
Blake FROM: An Angel
She hit send and quickly shut off her phone. She wasn't sure with that
last teasing message, if he wouldn't just show back up on her doorstep.
In fact, it really wouldn't surprise her at all. But in the meantime, she
was hot and heavy. She knew she was wet in between her legs. She
knew she wanted to touch herself and make herself have an

orgasm.
She pulled up her camisole, exposing her braless breasts, rubbing them
and squeezing the buds of them, making them hard. She slowly moved
her hands down to her lacy black panties and slid them down her legs,
all the way to her ankles - far enough to be able to spread her legs open
and get her hand in between them.
With one hand back on her exposed breast, she kneaded it, tweaking
her  nipple  with  her  thumb  and  forefinger.  Ahh,  it  felt  good,  she
thought.  With  her  other  hand,  she  found  her  clit  -  hard  and  pulsing,
calling her fingers to it like a magnet. She rubbed at that too, using soft
yet firm pressure, caressing it with the tips of her fingers, up and down,
up and down. The harder her pleasure point got, the more she felt the
need deep inside her body. She rubbed harder, she rubbed faster. She
finally slid her two fingers inside of her and she was without a doubt,
ready.
She pushed her fingers inside of herself, as far as they would go, all the
while grinding the palm of her hand on her clit. She thought of Blake's
strong  hands  all  over  her  body,  all  over  her  breasts.  Flashes  of  him
staring at her with his twinkling ocean-colored eyes, eyes that said they
wanted to fuck her. She fantasized about him sticking his fingers inside
her moist center, while he was kissing her all over her body and that
was  the  last  thought  she  had  before  she  brought  herself  a  very
much-needed sexual release.
Blake was shaking his head, grinning like a clown. Her last message
stating  that  she  was  going  to  use  her  fingers  instead  of  his  tongue,
actually  made  him  jealous.  He  wanted  to  be  her  fingers,  or  her
blankets! He'd settle for that. Or even her phone! Agghhh, he shut his
phone off and tried to get much needed rest. But the thought of Marilyn
touching herself was driving him crazy. Would she really touch herself
or was she just teasing him? He knew women masturbated but he never
had considered the actual practice in context like he was now. And the
idea of Marilyn making herself have an orgasm was extremely hot.
How did she do it? Did she really use her fingers? Or did she use some
type of kinky sex toy? If so, what did it look like? Was it big? Little?
Did it vibrate? Since he didn't know, he just imagined that she

used her fingers like she said to give herself an orgasm. Did she use one
finger or two? Did she come fast or did it take her time to work up to it?
It  didn't  matter  to  Blake  how  long  it  took  Marilyn  to  work  up  an
orgasm. What mattered to him was that his woman - when did he start
thinking  of  her  as  his?  got  off.  That  she  was  sated  beyond
comprehension long before she satisfied him in return. If it took her a
few minutes to have an orgasm, he could handle it just as much as he
could handle it if it took her ten minutes.
Blake  wanted  to  satisfy  the  woman  he  was  with.  Not  only  because
that's what you should do - that whole Golden Rule thing, but because it
turned  him  on  to  know  that  he  was  the  one  making  her  squirm  and
wiggle. He was the one that had the power to drive his woman wild.
Blake sighed. Here he was at almost midnight with the hardest dick in
the county thinking about a woman he hadn't even had the luxury of
sleeping with yet. What was wrong with him? When was the last time
he  acted  like  this  over  a  woman?  He  couldn't  remember  there  ever
being a time where much needed sleep had been put on the back burner.
He didn't know what it meant, but he choose not to dwell on it. Blake
tossed and turned all night long. Every time he fell into a slumber, there
was  always  a  brunette  with  charming  hazel  eyes,  topless,  in  a  black
mini skirt, beckoning him to come to her.

Chapter Fourteen
The  next  weekday,  Marilyn  and  Amber  decided  to  go  out  for  lunch.
Both  girls  were  dying  to  try  a  new  restaurant  that  had  opened  a  few
weeks ago in town. With the bookstore closed - she wasn't planning on
stopping  in  today,  which  was  a  first,  Marilyn  told  Amber  she  would
pick her up at her place and they could ride together. Marilyn pulled up
to  Amber's  swank  shack  as  she  liked  to  tease  her  about.  A  single
woman who lived alone, she had more square feet of living space than
her book store. She lived atop a small hill in Windsor overlooking the
golf course. Her home was made for a family of five - at a minimum,
but  Amber  had  insisted  that  the  moon  and  the  stars  were  aligned
correctly the day her realtor showed it to her. Amber had to have it.
Marilyn  pulled  into  the  driveway,  shut  off  the  Jeep  and  as  always,
appreciated the view. Damn, she had the best view in town. Marilyn
could see for miles. When it was Fourth of July, the four of them, and if
any of them had a man at the time, could see fireworks going off from
multiple locations. It was beautiful up here. Marilyn briefly closed her
eyes and inhaled the fresh air. Before she could  make  it to the door,
Amber came bounding out.
"You ready?"
Amber's  hair  was  down  today,  covering  her  shoulders.  She  wore  an
ocean-green  halter  top  sundress  that  stopped  a  few  inches  above  her
knees.
"Yes.  I'm  starved.  I  think  I  ate  something  this  morning  but  I  can't
remember  what  it  was.  My  stomach  is  growling.  You  look  so  cute
Amb." They hugged and proceeded back to the Jeep.
"Thank you. It is such a beautiful day out I wanted the sun to give my
skin kisses! It's amazing out."
She twirled in a circle before stopping at the passenger side door,  "I
love the summer," she sang.
"Me too, just as long as people still want to come into the store, even
though  it's  sooo  amazing  out."  She  backed  out  of  the  driveway  and
headed to the restaurant.

The  restaurant,  Agave,  served  mainly  Spanish  cuisine.  There  were
some American dishes but its specialty was Mexican. The ladies were
seated on the veranda and given paper menus. Marilyn ordered the taco
salad  and  saw  that  the  restaurant  served  Poudre  Hops  Microbrewery
beverages.  She  had  to  order  the  Summer  Ale.  There  was  something
about drinking this beverage and knowing that Blake's heart and soul
went into making it, that she couldn't resist. It was crisp and refreshing
for a sunny afternoon. Amber ordered the Carnitas Street Tacos. The
girls sat, hovered over thin-style chips and salsa, gossiping about the
latest issue of Shape magazine. They talked about nothing important.
Like all girlfriends, they talked about their other girlfriends and what
was going on in their lives lately. And of course, Amber finally brought
up Blake. She bit her tongue when Marilyn ordered the beer - his beer,
and never said anything while Marilyn inspected the label with a lazy
grin on her face.
"What's up with you and Blake? I can see you're all dreamy-eyed over
his craft, so spill it Mar."
Marilyn  blushed  and  replied,  "Nothing  is  'going  on'  really.  We  just
hang out and text and talk. See each other when our schedules permit it.
If  you  are  asking  if  we've  had  sex,  the  answer  is  no!  I  wish  I  could
Amber, but I just need more time."
Amber interjected, "I know how you are, and that's fine. At least this
will  keep  him  honest.  Some  men  only  stick  around  for  sex.  If  Blake
doesn't care  about not having it until you're ready,  maybe he's better
than I thought."
"What?" Marilyn asked incredulously, "You think he's a player?"
"I don't know what to think because I don't know him well enough. It
just  seems  like  men  who  are  beyond  gorgeous,  like  himself,  aren't
always keepers."
"Amber, we are still getting to know each other; I'm not sure if I want
him  to  be  a  keeper  yet."  As  the  words  spilled  out  of  her  mouth,  she
knew she was lying. She did want him as a keeper, she wanted it bad.
Amber leaned over the table, "You are lying through your teeth, Mar. I
can see it all over your face!"
Marilyn giggled, "Okay, I do want him but I don't what to get hurt,

I don't want to go in and lead with my heart and not my mind. Besides,
I do not even know how he feels about the whole thing. This could be
casual as far as he is concerned."
"Come on, have you seen the way he looks at you? That night at the
brewery you didn't notice him checking up on us every so often? I think
he's got it bad for you, Marilyn."
Marilyn rolled her eyes.
The waiter dropped off their check and the ladies headed for the front
door.  Marilyn  was  studying  the  crowd  at  the  new  restaurant;  it  was
pretty packed, when she smacked dead on into Amber. What? Marilyn
looked  at  Amber,  "Amber,  what  the-"  she  was  silenced  by  Amber's
arm, her body had shut down. She stood there, looking at something,
still as a statue. Was she breathing?
Marilyn followed her line of vision to a man, a quite handsome  man
actually, that was standing just like Amber, looking at her friend with a
hint of surprise crossing his features, as well as some other look. She
couldn't quite figure out what that was. Recognition? Yes. Clearly. Was
it worry? She thought it might be that. But she wasn't sure why he'd be
worried.
"Amber,  who  is  that  guy?"  Marilyn  whispered.  Why  was  she
whispering? Finally, Amber snapped out of her trance, looking over at
her friend.
"What?" Her face was flushed as if she just seen a ghost and Amber
could feel her hands shaking. Her chest visibly heaving.
"The guy? Who is that?" When Marilyn gestured her head toward the
direction of the mystery man, he was walking along the perimeters of
the room behind a hostess, obviously being taken to his table.
"Oh. My. Gosh. I thought I would never see him again," Amber stated
more to herself than Marilyn.
Marilyn was finally able to nudge Amber forward until they got out to
the sidewalk.
"Start  from  the  beginning,"  Marilyn  demanded  as  they  walked
hand-in-hand to the Jeep.
"I cannot believe it was him. Ohmigosh, Mar, remember when I told
you I went to THE club, like seven or eight years ago?" Amber was

erratic.  She  was  breathing  so  hard  she  felt  like  she  might
hyperventilate.
"You mean that fancy sex club?" Marilyn whispered, "Amber do not, I
repeat, do not tell me that was the guy you had wild, slutty sex with ...
was it?"
Amber's eyes looked wild, she was nodding her head in agreement, "He
recognized me, didn't he? The way he looked at me? What is he doing
here? In Windsor?"
"I don't know but what are the chances of that happening? Are you sure
it was him? I still cannot believe you ever did that! Weren't you afraid
of  catching  something?  Why  not  just  go  have  a  normal  threesome
somewhere?" Marilyn couldn't help but laugh at the absurdity of people
actually doing things like that. Going to sex clubs ... things like that.
Amber  gave  her  a  dirty  look,  "No,  I  wasn't  worried  about  catching
things.  I've  told  you  before  that  it  was,  and  still  is,  mind  you,  a
reputable  club  that  takes  its  clientele  and  business  very  seriously.  I
would  be  more  worried  about  just  hooking  up  with  anyone  off  the
street.  They  screen  all  of  their  applicants,  STD  testing,  HIV/AIDS,
drugs, etc. Don't you remember I had to go through all those tests and
pay that exorbitant fee?"
Marilyn about choked. When Amber used words like exorbitant when
dealing  with  money,  it  was  usually  about  five  times  more  than  the
amount Marilyn would describe exorbitant.
Marilyn couldn't remember the exact conversation at the time because
she was utterly shocked that there were places one could go and act out
their wildest fantasies, let alone, grasp the idea of the whole application
process, as well as the idea of sleeping with a man ... or women, well
damn, or both, as in Amber's case, that you did not know and had never
laid eyes upon until that  moment. She shuddered at the thought. She
loved her friend dearly and never tried to judge her, but sometimes she
was plain crazy in the whole sex department.
It  was  clear  Amber  was  still  a  bit  shaken  up  about  running  into  her
ex-sex  toy  but  Marilyn  managed  to  drop  her  off  without  much  more
fuss. The day was beautiful and as much as Marilyn wanted to enjoy it,
she headed for Lusting after Literature. She hadn't planned on going in
today but as always, she felt she needed the time to catch up.
Once there, she managed to enter in some used books she had

picked up at a flea market a few days ago. Boy, was she slacking. She
had  purchased  two  boxes  full  of  books  and  hadn't  managed  to  enter
them into the system until now. It was because of Blake, she just knew.
He had effectively kept her mind running nonstop. She found herself
thinking about him quite often.
For the first time in her life, she found that she didn't miss the bookstore
when she was with him. In the past, when she was with Tyler, despite
what  they  were  doing,  she  had  longed  to  be  at  the  bookstore  -away
from his company, she now realized in hindsight, and could only think
of all the things she had or wanted to do with the store. Now, when she
was with Blake, the store took a backseat in that department. Sure she
loved  it  and  it  would  always  be  her  baby,  but  somehow  being  with
Blake made her realize that there WAS more to life, more to her life
than just the store. He made her laugh. He made her happy to be away
from work, which was a nice feeling, she admitted.
Once  the  books  were  entered,  she  began  going  through  her  system
trying  to  weed  out  any  books  that  she  thought  were  outdated  or
overdue.  She  was  able  to  run  a  report  on  her  inventory  and  it  would
tally  up  the  most  sought-after  books  as  well  as  the  least  favored.
Because it was such a time-intensive process, she only ran the report
every twelve weeks. Out with the old and in with the new.
Actually, it was more like, out with the least popular, in with the most
popular. Because it didn't matter how old a book was, it was based on
popularity.  She  had  books  in  her  store  that  were  quite  old  because
people never got tired of great classics. She was one of those people.
She could read Gone with the Wind over and over - and she had. She
never  got  tired  of  stories  like  that.  She  admired  how  independent
Scarlett was, but throughout the entire book, she hoped every time that
she would depend on Rhett and truly let herself be taken care of and be
true to him. And every time, it never happened.
Or  take  The  Outsiders,  for  example.  S.E.  Hinton  wrote  a  great  story
about  boys  being  boys  and  growing  up  in  different  social  standings
than other kids. That's a classic, because there was definite truth to his
story no matter where you grew up. There would always be cliques and
people who thought they were better than other people.

It was getting closer to evening, when Marilyn's phone rang. Tyler!
She hesitated ... "Hello?"
"Hey Mar, what's up?"
"Not  much,  just  at  the  store.  What  about  you?"  she  asked.  "I'm  just
down the street, I'll pop in. See you in a second." Great, Marilyn stared
at her phone flashing the call-ended button. A minute later, Tyler came
knocking on the front door. She let him
in.
"Hey, you look stunning as ever."
She looked down at her purple halter top and black skirt. "Thanks!" He
leaned in and kissed her cheek. "What are you doing here?"
Unlike his normal demeanor, he instantly became defensive, "What? I
can't  come  and  see  you  anymore?  Just  because  you're  seeing  my
business partner it means we can't be friends?"
Marilyn blinked, "Not at all. That's not what I was getting at and you
know it. I was just curious what you wanted when you called. I said
nothing about not being friends. Ever."
"Don't act so snobby then, Marilyn. I had a feeling that once you started
seeing Blake you'd turn into a royal bitch and you have, haven't you?"
He stepped closer to her. She took a step backward.
"Fuck you, Tyler. What is your problem? Are you jealous?" Marilyn
couldn't believe he was acting this way. Was this all about her seeing
Blake?  Were  she  and  Blake  seeing  each  other  for  all  intents  and
purposes?
"I'm not jealous of Blake, Marilyn. Are you fucking him?"
Tyler had a mean look in his eyes that she had never seen before. One
that  conveyed  jealousy  despite  what  he  said.  She  was  starting  to  get
nervous.  Would  he  hurt  her?  A  week  ago  she  would  have  said  no,
never! But now, looking at him inching closer and closer toward her,
she wasn't so sure.
"Don't tell me he's already gotten into your pants?" He reached out and
grabbed her arm.
"Tyler knock it off! What the hell? That is none of your business. Let
go of my arm, you're hurting me!" She pulled her arm from his

grasp, noticing the fingerprints he left behind.
"Get  out!  I  don'  know  what  has  gotten  into,  but  leave!"  She  pointed
angrily towards the door.
His mood changed in an instant. He backed off. He gave Marilyn a look
she  couldn't  quite  decipher  and  turned  on  his  heel  and  left.  She  was
quite shaken up. What was he thinking? He had never made her feel
more  nervous  in  her  life.  When  he  grabbed  her  arm,  she  wasn't  sure
what he was going to do to her. Asking her those kinds of questions
about her and Blake, she was utterly appalled. The best thing to do was
avoid him, she thought. Great, how was she going to do that when he
co-owned the brewery with Blake? Never go to the brewery again?
At that moment, her phone pinged with an incoming text.
TO: An Angel
What's  up  Angel?  Ikeep  meaning  to  ask  you,  did  it  hurt  failing  from
heaven? LOL. W h a tr u   doing tonight?
FROM: Lover Boy
She laughed at his silly pick-up line and put her fingertips to the screen.
TO: LoverBoy
At the store. Just had a weird run-in with Tyler: Come over? Oh, and
no, it didn't really hurt. Did it hurt when u fell? FROM: An Angel
To: An Angel
Yes, badly! On my way. From: LoverBoy
Marilyn smiled at her phone. He was a character, she thought. True to
his  word,  a  minute  later  there  was  a  soft  knock  on  her  door.  Still
holding her phone she looked up and was happy, and relieved, to see
Blake's twinkling green eyes looking in at her.
As  always,  he  took  her  breath  away.  Wearing  his  tan  cargo  shorts
paired with a black collared shirt he looked like a man of many talents.
Seeing  him  standing  on  the  other  side  of  the  glass  gave  her  strange
butterflies in her stomach. She had to admit it was somewhat erotic. He

was giving her that look that she had come to enjoy - the look that gave
her the impression that he was thinking the same thing she was. Which
in  this  case  was  that  he  was  absolutely  gorgeous.  His  shirt  stretched
slightly over his chest, making his robust muscles stand out.
He was wearing a hat today - a black one with the home state's baseball
team  logo  standing  out  in  small  letters  on  the  front.  It  was  such  a
contrast to the white hat she had seen him in, that she continued to gaze
at him through the window, long enough that Blake cocked his head to
the left and got that sexy-as-hell lopsided grin on his face. While she
ogled him, he did the same to her in return.
She was wearing a black skirt that hugged her hips perfectly. From ten
feet and a sheet of glass away he could make out the curves of her legs
and  where  they  met  her  hips,  running  up  to  her  abdomen.  What  he
would give to run his hands all over her sleek body - no doubt soft as a
newborn baby.
Marilyn walked up to the window and unlocked the key, all the while
keeping her eyes on Blake. She felt so incredibly sexy at that moment -
standing behind the glass, with his eyes noticeably roaming over her
body,  whilst  appreciating  his  body  in  return  and  never  breaking  eye
contact.  It  was  a  little  much  for  her.  She  idly  wondered  how  much
longer  her  body  would  be  able  to  hold  out  before  it  caved  into  his.
Literally and figuratively, she thought.
The slight breeze helped push the door open into the store and with it
came the scent of Blake. All  male, all powerful, mixed with cologne
and all too sexy as hell.
"Hey, Angel. As much as I enjoyed watching you through that window,
I was dying to get my hands on you. Come here."
She  went  without  hesitation,  into  his  arms.  She  needed  this,  she
realized. After her encounter with Tyler, she was a little frightened, she
had to admit. It felt good to be able to walk into another man's arms and
know that she could trust him. She felt safe in his arms, comforted. She
felt like for once in her life, there would be someone else there to help
her with her problems - someone she could lean on and ask for advice.
She  knew  she  was  getting  carried  away;  it's  not  like  they  were  even
exclusively  an  item  yet.  But  she  couldn't  help  what  her  heart  was
feeling.

As  everyone  knew,  hearts  had  a  mind  of  their  own  when  it  came  to
feelings.
"It feels good to be here." She told him with her head resting on his
chest, breathing in his scent.
From the sound in her voice, Blake instantly went on alert. She didn' t
sound right, not quite like her happy-go-lucky self.
"What's the matter?"
He pulled back and lifted up her chin, toward his face. Searching her
brown eyes, he noticed how the lighting highlighted her green flecks,
making her eyes hazel. They definitely looked sad, he noticed.
She hesitated to say anything to him about her encounter with Tyler.
First of all, she had known Tyler for a long time and would be surprised
if what happened today would ever happen again. That was a first and
he never, ever was that harsh and vulgar with her so she didn't want to
cause a scene. Second of all, he and Blake were now business partners
and that would  make for an  awkward situation! So she did what she
thought was best for all and, hedged.
"Nothing.  Tyler  stopped  by  for  no  reason  really.  But  he  isn't  really
happy  with  you  and  I  being  together.  Which  I  don't  exactly  know  if
we're together, but he made it very clear he doesn't like it. Which, for a
while  there  I  thought  he  accepted  it.  But  what  was  there  to  tell  him
because I do not even know what is happening between us."
Oh boy, there she goes rambling on again. She hated when she did that.
She did it mostly when she was nervous. Her eyes were darting back
and  forth  between  Blake  and  the  Sci-Fi  bookshelf;  she  hated  being
nervous! She felt like it made her look weak, lacking in confidence, and
a business owner couldn't be uncertain.
"Angel,  slow  down.  I  guess  I've  been  messing  this  up  since  the
beginning, haven't I?"
Marilyn looked confused.
"I want to be with you. Do you want to be with me?" he whispered. He
looked  so  seductive,  his  head  was  cocked  to  the  side,  his  -  Wait,  he
wanted to be with her? He actually did! "Yes," she didn't hesitate.
"Then it's settled. You and I are together. Just you and me. No one

else. I should have said this a week ago." Blake smiled a megawatt grin,
showing off his teeth and his come-hither dimples. He seemed relieved.
Had  he  been  nervous,  she  wondered?  Men  like  him  who  were
confident,  seemingly  on  top  of  the  world,  how  could  he  be  nervous
over a little topic like that? Maybe she was reading too much into it.
Blake couldn't remember the last time he actually asked a female out. It
had to have been his senior year in high school when he asked Amy
Van Hogan to go with him to the prom. It was guy's choice and that
meant  a  guy  had  to  ask  the  girl.  He  hated  that.  He  was  so  used  to
females  coming  after  him  that  it  was  awkward  to  find  one  he  truly
wanted to ask out. One that fit his bill, he supposed. So he ended up
asking  Amy  because  she  was  beautiful  and  extremely  shy  and  had  a
good head on her shoulders. They never ran around in the same circles,
had never dated and never really talked before the prom. But he never
heard gossip about her like he had all the other high school girls so he
figured she was a good choice.
He had done all the obligatory things for prom - rent a tux, a limo, buy
the corsage and take her to dinner. They had had a really great time. In
fact, they were still friends.
But  boy,  asking  Marilyn  to  be  with  him  just  now,  made  his  palms
sweat. Which he didn't quite understand because he was a man of war.
He had spent his fair share of time fighting and with that came all the
horrible and gruesome realities that no one talked about and he actually
dealt with that fine. How could asking Marilyn if she wanted to be with
him make him so nervous?
Marilyn brought him back to the present.
"I  was  just  doing  some  minor  work  if  you'd  rather  leave  and  go
somewhere else, I can close everything up in just a second."
"No, its fine. I don't mind staying here for a while. I have time. Would
you like me to help you with something?"
"Truthfully, there isn't much to do. I was here inputting books and then
Tyler  showed  up  and  now  you  and  with  you  here  it's  not  like  I  can
concentrate," she waved her hand in the air.
In a split second, she felt Blake's body pressed up against her backside.
His arms came around her middle, "You can't concentrate with

me around? Why's that Angel?"
Some perverse part of him took pleasure in watching her blush and get
flustered when it came to sexual energy between the two of them. She
could feel his breath up against her ear, barely feel his lips touching it.
She shivered. How could this man with a body worthy of applause be
into her? Was it really possible? She turned and faced him.
Smiling,  she  said,  "Come  on...with  you  looking  the  way  you  do,
all...enticing, how  could I concentrate on anything? Is it just  me that
you have this effect on or do women throw themselves at you on a daily
basis?" She was blushing, she could feel the heat in her cheeks. "You
know, never mind. Don't answer that, I am positive that you do."
Blake laughed, "You are the only one I care about. The only one that
makes me think beyond today."
He lowered his head to hers and kissed her fervently. Her arms came up
around his neck, her thumbs skimming his neckline just where his hair
ended.  He  gently  pushed  her  up  against  the  nearest  bookshelf
-Romance, she knew by heart, knew with her eyes closed. Fitting, she
thought. So fitting.
He caressed her lower back, thinking what type of panties, if any, she
was wearing underneath. He'd give his left arm just to know what color
they were. His hands slowly traveled south and she didn't stop him. His
hands cupped each butt cheek, gently pulling them apart.
Marilyn let out a moan. God that felt good. She absolutely didn't mind
his hands roaming freely over her body, over her butt. She didn't mind
his tongue licking her lips, mingling with her tongue, trapping it inside
his mouth with his lips.
She could feel how hard he was between the small amount of fabric that
kept them apart. Aside from her flimsy skirt, all she, or he, would have
to do was pull her suddenly constricting panties away from her needy
body and she would be putty in his hands. With her eyes closed, she
silently wished him to do that. Oh please, Blake, touch me please, she
moaned  again.  He  pulled  back  far  enough  from  her  mouth  that  she
opened her eyes. Stormy emerald eyes bored into hers.
It was a moment of truth. Was she going to let him do what he wanted
or was she going to pull away? Her stormy hazel eyes stared

back at him, "Don't stop, Blake. Touch me, please." Whatever thoughts
he or she may have had only moments ago, were gone. It was just him
and her, both burning with a desire and passion that neither had ever
felt before. The chemistry they felt every time they were around each
other was finally coming together.
Her lips were flushed from his kisses. He kissed the corner of her lips,
moving to her cheek, nuzzling down to her neck. His hands came up
beneath her black skirt, pushing her buttocks up against the shelf where
she was awkwardly perched on the edge. He stood between her legs,
holding her up with no effort.
His right hand skimmed the inside of her thigh, moving up to the vee
between her legs. Ahh, yes, she was wearing panties. Soft ones. Cotton,
he guessed. He pushed her skirt up her legs, moving it out of the way.
White cotton panties. How was that such a turn on for him? His vixen,
who  had  naughty  thoughts  and  did  naughty  things  with  him  (hello,
bookshelf!) was wearing the proverbial white panties? She killed him,
slowly she was turning his strong soldier stance into that of a begging
puppy. Begging for her. How had she managed that when he was able
to resist every other woman?
He rubbed the hard nub that outlined her panties. She was ready  -her
clit  was  hard  and  protruding.  She  didn't  know  this  and  Blake  hadn't
until that moment, but there was no way he could take her here. The
gentleman in him couldn't do it. She  deserved better than this. Better
than a wham-bam in her store. Hell, Blake could give her better than
this. He wanted to.
He continued to rub her there, never allowing skin to skin contact. His
mouth darted back and forth between her lips and ears and neck as she
squirmed beneath him. She was getting close, he knew. Her fingers dug
into his back. He reveled in the feel of her getting close to orgasm.
Her  head  fell  back,  hitting  the  shelf  behind  her  and  she  cried  out  in
pleasure. Her body became slack and he continued to hold her up.
"Did you like that Angel?" he whispered in her ear.
Not opening her eyes, she responded with a meek yes.
He carried her to her couch in the back room and laid her down, making
sure she was covered modestly. Her eyes kept drifting open,

Chapter Fifteen
Blake went into work the next morning, first working in his office, as
was always the case. He liked to read the Wall Street Journal, respond
to  any  emails  and  listen  to  any  voicemails  from  the  brewery's  direct
line.  Since  he  had  stayed  with  Marilyn  most  of  the  night  at  the
bookstore,  he  got  there  earlier  than  usual.  Which  he  enjoyed.  It  was
quiet. He got work done.
There was a voicemail from Jim with the Sherriff's office asking him to
return his call. Blake did just that. Curious as to what, if any, news the
man had about the delivery truck. It'd been a week now since Blake last
heard anything from him.
He punched in the number and Jim came on the line.
"Hey Jim, Blake Bryant here returning your call. How are you
doing?"
"Blake. Doing well," he was a no nonsense man, he got right down to
business. "We got back the fingerprint analysis from the crime lab and
we did get a partial print off the back of the door. Aside from you and
Tyler Clark, we weren't able to identify any other prints. That partial
we found, though, is all over the lock too. As well as the underside of
the door." He paused for this to sink in.
"My question to you is who would have the key aside from the delivery
driver? We checked his belongings and your key was still in his pant
pocket. Which means, since the truck wasn't forced open, someone had
a key."
Blake didn't like where this conversation was going. He had a key. He
always had a spare in the safe and then he gave the driver a key. Not a
great system, he admitted to the officer. But when you hired out drivers
what else could you do?
"Who  would  have  access  to  this  key?  Is  it  possible  someone  could
swipe it from you and make a copy?"
Blake thought about the many times he left his car keys sitting at his
desk. The same keys that had the truck lock too. Fuck. Just about any
person could swipe it.  Any patron could  mosey down  the hall and if
they

knew what they were looking for, could probably take  it. But would
they have enough time to take it down to the hardware store and make a
copy before Blake noticed them missing? That'd be the tough part. A
patron  wouldn't  know  that  much.  If  anything,  it  would  have  to  be
someone that worked inside the brewery.
At  the  very  least,  the  culprit  would  have  a  general  idea  of  his
whereabouts  and  his  working  schedule.  If  he  happened  to  be  in  the
brewing  room,  hell,  sometimes  he  found  himself  in  there  for  hours
before  he  realized  the  time  was  slipping  away.  Anyone  could  have
easily taken his keys, or that particular key, made a copy and brought it
back with no one the wiser.
He told as much to Jim.
"Our next direction is to look at people working inside the brewery. I'm
going to need a list of everyone who works there and for how long. I
also want you to go back as far as a year out of past employees. When
can you get it over to me?"
Blake  ran  a  hand  through  his  hair,  "I  can  have  it  for  you  sometime
today."
That ended their call and Blake kicked his feet up onto his desk. Son of
a bitch. He steepled his hands underneath his chin and thought of  the
past  year.  How  many  employees  had  they  gone  through?  While  he'd
been working alone, probably six. He was such a grouch when it came
to responsibility that he knew he fired at least three people. In the past
year, maybe five, seven if he stretched it.
Of course it wasn't the amount of employees he had in the last year that
bothered him - it was how many times could the stupid truck key have
been spread from person to person? He was such an idiot. As an excuse,
he  kept  trying  to  tell  himself  that  nothing  like  this  ever  happened  in
Windsor, that's why he was careless with precious cargo. That made it
sound  like  a  bumper  sticker.  Truthfully,  he  was  sick  at  heart.  How
could he never think to take better care of something as important as the
key  to  their  possessions?  It  had  never  occurred  to  him  that  someone
would be this malicious, especially in a small town, so no, the thought
of something like this happening never occurred to him.
He typed up the list of previous employees and emailed it to Jim.

He called Marilyn.
"Lusting after Literature. This is Marilyn."
He never called her work phone, but something inexplicable inside of
him dialed this number.
"Angel." He was certain he didn't have to say who was calling. "Are
you busy?"
She  felt  like  a  high  schooler,  the  boy  she  wanted  was  actually
calling?!?! Yea!
Trying to conceal her smile, Marilyn answered, "I'm sorry, who is this?
Is someone there?" She tried not to laugh.
"Marilyn! It's Blake!" he sounded impatient.
"I know! I was just teasing you," she felt bad. "What's up. Why didn't
you call my cell phone?"
"I'm not exactly sure. I'm sorry if I was so abrupt. I talked to the police,"
he felt bad. He hadn't meant to snap at her when she was only teasing
him - something he did to her so often.
"You  did?  Did  they  have  something  new  to  tell  you?  Tell  me!"  she
demanded.
"Wow. You really are a tiger. My tiger, just so we're clear."
"Crystal. What's the news?" she asked hopefully.
"The police are pretty certain that it was a Poudre Hops employee. The
truck's back door was unlocked with its key and when they found the
driver,  he  still  had  the  key  in  his  pocket.  They  did  find  unknown
fingerprints on the lock."
"How would someone get a key though?" Her mind was thinking of all
different scenarios before Blake interjected, "Easily. From me. I have
left my keys in my office for who knows how long with the truck key
on them. Just lying on my desk." He was disgusted with himself.
Marilyn  didn't  think  she  heard  right.  In  a  whiny  tone  she  asked,
"Really?" Of course that was true, he wasn't the type of person to beat
around the bush.
"Hard to believe, right? But yes, I'm a complete idiot."
"You are not an idiot, Blake. You're trustworthy. All good people are
trustworthy."
Blake softened a little. How could this woman believe in him so

much? She came into his life believing in him, he thought. No one had
ever really treated him that way aside from family. He still felt sick to
his stomach  thinking that he practically gave the  thief the key to the
truck, but somehow talking to Marilyn made it seem more bearable.
"I'm still mad at myself for never thinking I should protect my assets
better.  I  guess  I  was  just  too  trusting,  that  anyone  paid  that  close  of
attention  to  my  car  keys  and  which  keys  might  be  on  them."  He
changed the subject, "How is Lusting after Literature going today?"
He could hear her smile, "It's good. Kay is here today so she and I are
pulling books from my report I ran the other night - you know, the one
that tells me which ones are more popular than others?"
He  couldn't  help  but  grin,  she  was  so  freaking  cute!  "Yes,  Angel,  I
remember.  How  would  you  feel  about  coming  over  to  my  place
tonight? After work?"
Marilyn stopped breathing. His place? All male? The thought excited
her to no end. She would be able to see where he lives, how he lives,
where he sleeps(!). No! Would she see where he sleeps? Was she ready
for that? What sort of impression would that give him? That she was
ready and willing to fuck? Oh boy, was she ready? She knew she was.
Every single time she saw him, she could feel the dampness inside her
panties, could feel the quickening inside her heart. She could feel the
need low in her tummy. Yeah, she thought, she was ready.
"I can't. I'm sorry, my parents called and my brother is coming over to
their  place  tonight  and  I  promised  I  would  go.  Maybe  we  can  get
together  tomorrow  night?"  She  was  disappointed,  but  hoped  he
understood.  Although  they  were  technically  seeing  each  other,  her
parents were having friends over and she didn't feel like it was the right
time to introduce Blake.
She could hear his intake of breath, "That's too bad, baby doll, I had
some pretty good ideas of what we were going to do tonight...you know
that  whole  'you  can  do  things  to  each  other  that  don't  include  sex'
conversation? Yup, my mind was getting creative."
How could one sentence like this make her want to go into the women's
bathroom and touch herself? She already had a hard time at work trying
not to blush every time she passed by the romance section.

She was saved from having to say much, when a customer walked up,
"I have to go, I will call you soon. I have a customer. Bye."
She hung up. She felt bad but what were her options? She could have
responded  but  that  would  have  been  terribly  embarrassing  to  the
woman that was buying a self-improvement book.
Blake stared at his phone. He wasn't sure if he should be irritated or
happy. She hung up on him, she denied his request for dinner AND she
basically told him that there was no way she was ready for him to meet
her  parents.  The  only  part  that  bothered  him,  more  than  he  cared  to
admit, was that his Angel didn't feel like he was worthy enough to meet
her  mother  and  father  just  yet.  He  tried  ignoring  it,  but  the  feeling
bothered him throughout the rest of the day.

Chapter Sixteen
Marilyn  hadn't  talked  to  Blake  much  the  night  of  the  dinner,  so  she
decided the next day she would go to his work and surprise him. It was
just after lunch so she hoped he was there; she desperately wanted to
see him. No, correct that, she had to see him. It had been far too long
since she'd had sex and it was getting to her. Yesterday, she entered the
same  book  into  her  system  four  times  in  a  row  while  her  customer
stared at her in befuddlement. She talked herself into it. She was ready.
She wanted Blake more than she could remember ever wanting anyone.
Today, she intended to let him know. She smiled at herself. She didn't
intend to go to Poudre Hops and have sex with him right there, right on
top of the summer ale keg! She just wanted to invite him over for ...
dessert. Tonight!
She pulled into the parking lot and turned the ignition off. She hopped
out of her Jeep wearing her Army print shorts and her plain white tank
top. Nothing sexy but she felt sexy and she felt sassy. And comfortable,
ready to conquer the world. The brewery wasn't too busy today. The
parking lot wasn't nearly half full so she hoped it wasn't too busy inside.
She wanted just a few moments of alone time with him so she could
make her intentions clear.
Once inside, the bar area wasn't packed at all. There were a few people
here and there having a drink. They looked like business people. She
caught the waitress's attention, grabbing her arm as she walked by.
"I'm looking for Blake," she smiled.
The  waitress  gave  her  a  so-is-every-other-woman-in-here  look  and
pointed to the far end of the lounge area, "He just went through there."
Marilyn strolled through the bar past the bathrooms and stopped at the
same doorway she had entered through the last time she was here. She
stopped,  hearing  voices.  She  peeked  through  the  doorway  and  saw
Blake  and  another  female  standing  comfortably  close  to  each  other.
Something  inside  of  her  dropped,  maybe  it  was  her  heart,  she  didn't
know. Through the thundering of her heart she could hear the female
talking.

"You said last time was the last time and it wasn't. Come to my house
tonight, you know you've  missed  me. Last week,  you said you'd call
and I haven't heard anything from you Blake. I was worried."
At  this  point,  Miss  Priss  had  both  of  her  arms  up  around  Blake's
shoulders  and  she  was  blatantly  grinding  herself  into  his  body.  She
watched Blake as his hands slid up the woman's torso, much like he'd
done with her not that long ago. Bile and fury rose up in her throat, she
turned to walk, no run, out of there and ran right into Tyler. This was
just getting worse and worse.
"Whoa,  Marilyn,  slow  down,  where  are  you  going?  Marilyn!"  Tyler
yelled after her.
Marilyn?  Blake  thought.  He  pushed  his  old  flame  away.  What?  He
turned just in time to see Marilyn's backside flying down the hallway.
What the fuck just happened? he thought. Tyler had an ugly smirk on
his face that he'd really enjoy wiping off right now if he wasn't so set on
going after Marilyn. He pushed past him. Shit. This was not good. He
could  already  imagine  Marilyn's  non-stop  mind  over-thinking  things
and thinking the worst of what she saw. Damn, this woman was fast
when she was mad. He practically had to run out of the brewery. Some
customers glanced up at him in surprise, but he didn't care.
He  pushed  through  the  door  and  saw  Marilyn  pulling  on  the  door
handle of her Jeep, getting it open.
"Marilyn, Marilyn, wait," he yelled at her. She stopped and turned, her
gaze staring straight into his soul. As he got closer, he could see the wet
sheen in her eyes. Oh, hell. But she didn't stay put, she climbed up into
her Jeep and drove off without a backward glance.
Marilyn  couldn't  believe  she  started  to  trust  him.  She  should  have
known he was a womanizer, a cheater! Okay, maybe not a cheater, but
...  scum.  Yeah,  he  was  scum.  How  could  he  pretend  that  he  was  so
interested in her and wanted only her when he was obviously involved
with another woman? They just met not long ago, why did she let him
get under her skin? Why did this already hurt so much? How could she
have let this happen so quickly? Who was that woman anyway?
By  the  way  she  had  her  dirty  hands  all  over  Blake,  it  looked  like
someone he was intimate with. She did not like how that made her feel.

She  wanted  Blake,  well  she  did  want  him  until  she  saw  him  with
another woman. Now, she wanted her head, her heart, to get him out of
her mind. She knew in her mind that she wanted to go slow with Blake
and yet her heart was already feeling like it was heavily involved with
the man. She was stupid, stupid, stupid! And she actually felt that on
some unspoken, chemistry-riddled level, that he wasn't playing games
with  her.  Were  all  of  her  instincts  wrong?  Clearly  they  were.  How
could she be so easily duped? She wanted to cry. She knew better than
to get involved so hot and heavy, so quickly with a man she just met.
This was exactly why! She was on the verge of crying but what good
would that do? No, she needed to do something else. She flipped a bitch
in the middle of Main Street and headed towards the shooting range.
Blake  was  furious.  He  was  furious  with  everyone.  With  Alana,
Marilyn,  Tyler  and  mostly  himself.  He  knew  he  had  only  himself  to
blame for this fiasco but it felt good to blame everyone else right now
too. He knew how Alana was. The moment he saw her walk into the
brewery,  he  should  have  sent  her  packing.  But  no,  he  acted  like  a
gentleman instead and this is what he got. One pissed-off woman, well
now  two-pissed  off  women  but  he  didn't  care  about  Alana.  He  had
repeatedly  told  her  no.  No  to  sex.  No  to  her  advances.  No  to  her
invitations to go eat, drink, whatever. But she was relentless. He made
the mistake of wining and dining her for a week too long. Although, at
the time he ended things with her, she was totally fine. Agreed that it
was  mutual  -  that  she  too  had other  things  going on  her  life  and  she
didn't have time for this 'game.'
Then one night they were out at the same bar with some mutual friends
and he made the mistake of going home with her. They had sex and he
went home that night. He didn't stay the night like she wanted, but ever
since then, it was like he had given her a green light to come at him any
time her heart desired.
Like today, here she came wanting to get together tonight and he kept
telling  her  no.  That  he  was  with  someone  else  but  Alana  had  just
laughed.  She  wouldn't  take  no  for  an  answer.  They  could  have
something on the side, she had said. No, that's not the kind of guy he
was and she knew it. Ugghhhh, Blake ran his hand through his hair. He
fucked this up

with Marilyn all on his own. He had no feelings for Alana. None. In
fact, with Marilyn in his life, it was hard for him to exactly remember
what  he  found  so  attractive  with  Alana  in  the  first  place.  Seeing  her
today, with half her tits hanging out of her way-too-tight shirt, repelled
him. Her cackling laugh grated on his nerves. Hair spray caked on her
head so thick a fly could get entangled and never come back out. No,
ever since  Marilyn came into his  life, he had a hard time coming up
with things he had, at one point, liked about Alana. Hell, some part of
him deep, deep down that he refused to recognize, wondered what he
saw in any of the women he had been with before Marilyn.
Marilyn was easy-going and smart. She was always smiling and happy.
She was ever the optimist, he had to admit. She was funny - she wasn't
afraid to laugh at herself or at him for that matter. And he bet his small
fortune that her heart was made of gold.
In  contrast  to  her  virtues,  he  had  dated  women  that  were  selfish,
conceited, cared way too  much about how they looked and were too
afraid to get down and dirty. Their main goals were usually how they
could get the most gifts from the best guys. Not his angel, though.
After he cursed his heart out at Alana and told her he never wanted to
see  her  again  -  to  leave  him  the  fuck  alone,  he  stood  alone  in  the
parking lot debating his options. He could leave and drive to Marilyn's
house, but that seemed too easy. Knowing her, she wouldn't be there.
Or he could call her and hope like hell she would listen to him beg for
her  forgiveness  and  try  to  explain  to  her  that  what  she  saw  was  not
Blake coming on to Alana at all but her trying to come on to him. And
that no, he wasn't interested.
It was a bad situation to begin with and was made worse with Marilyn
thinking  she  saw  something  that  held  merit.  He  dialed  her  cell.  No
answer. He didn't leave a message.
TO: An Angel
Can we please talk? Please give me a
chance to explain. FROM: LoverBoy
Blake  had  grudgingly  drug  his  feet  back  into  work.  Marilyn  never
responded to his text. He had paperwork to finish up and then he was

heading over to her house and if he had to wait for her all night, then so
be  it.  When  he  went  back  inside,  Tyler  was  in  the  brew  house.  He
avoided him. He didn't want to see him because he was still so pissed
off, he knew Tyler would make a smart-ass comment and Blake would
come unglued. He didn't really have any reason to be angry with Tyler,
he  thought.  It  was  the  satisfied  smirk  on  his  face  when  Blake  went
flying by him to chase down Marilyn that really irritated him. None of
this was his fault. Still, Blake knew he still had feelings for Marilyn and
somehow Tyler would just love to see this blow up on him.
Well,  he  wasn't  going  to  let  that  happen.  Not  if  he  had  to  sit  on
Marilyn's front porch for the rest of the day and into the night, he had to
resolve this.
Actually, the more he thought about it, he decided that wasn't all that
bad of an idea. Once he finished this paperwork, he was going straight
to her house and he would wait all damn night if he had to.
Marilyn  emptied  her  clip  and  hit  the  clip  release  and  checked  the
chamber. She then set her stuff on the provided stand. She took off her
safety  glasses  and  head  phones  and  switched  the  lever  to  bring  her
target paper back up the range. She unclipped the paper, checking out
her hits. Not too shabby, if she had to say so herself. Her first round,
she  knew  because  when  she  got  here  she  was  still  so  upset,  was  not
even within the target parameters.  Her second and third rounds were
much better. She actually shot within the target and managed to blaze
up  the  bull  's-eye  several  times.  Today,  she  had  picked  a  traditional
target for shooting. They had a variety to choose from. They had papers
that had several smaller targets on them, some were printed with glass
bottles  on  a  fence  as  well  as  pumpkins  and  even  some  with  deer.
Shooting actually calmed her. It cleared her mind and helped her focus.
It was like meditating for her.
She packed her gun into its case and headed for the door.
"Thanks,  Bill.  See  you  soon."  She  waved  goodbye  to  the  firearms
instructor as she headed out the door.
"Yep, see you soon. Take it easy out there."
She got into her Jeep, rolled the windows down and with butterflies in
her stomach, checked her phone. There was one missed call and one

text from Blake. After reading it, she couldn't decide what to do. After
shooting, she was a little more level-headed. She was not as pissed off
anymore as she was hurt. Her heart hurt. Had she jumped to the wrong
conclusions? She guessed it was possible but the way he had his arms
around that woman, it looked like he was into it as much as she was.
Her  heart  didn't  want  to  believe  that  he  was  seeing  someone  and
whispering the same sweet things into her ear as he  was to someone
else. What should she do? She needed more time to think about it. She
ignored his text and headed for home.
When she pulled up to her house Blake was sitting on her porch in one
of  her  rocking  chairs.  Her  traitorous  heart  skipped  beats.  Damn,  she
wanted to back out of the driveway and drive on! But at this moment,
she didn't want to be a chicken shit. She wanted Blake to feel like crap
for his misdeeds.
But Jesus, he was gorgeous. He sat in the rocking chair with his long
legs out in front of him, his hands folded behind his head. His hair was
messy  like  he  had  been  running  his  hands  through  it.  Yes,  he  was
gorgeous scum, she thought. She hesitated with her hand on the door
handle before she opened the door, their eyes met and held. She felt her
heart  re-break  into  a  million  pieces  as  she  headed  for  the  torture
chamber of love.
"What  do  you  want  Blake?"  She  tried  sounding  tough  but  instead  it
came out as barely a whisper.
"I had to come and see you and explain what you saw. I've been here
for quite a while waiting for you to come home." He reached out for
her.
"No," She backed away and saw the hurt in his eyes. "You do not get to
touch me anymore."
"Marilyn, please. Can we go inside and talk or do you want me to pour
my heart out right here where all of your neighbors can hear?" "Fine,"
she muttered.
She unlocked her door and walked inside, not even holding the screen
door  for  him.  She  knew  she  was  being  childish  but  looking  at  his
gorgeousness and knowing he was seeing someone else, tore her up.
She threw her stuff on the table and took her gun box into her bedroom.
She

took  her  shoes  off,  glanced  in  the  mirror,  confirmed  she  looked  like
hell, and went back out to Blake.
He  had  his  back  to  her  and  as  much  as  she  hurt,  she  couldn't  help
admire the strong lines of his back, his awfully tight ass and the way he
kept flexing his hands.
"You're inside. Pour your heart out," sarcasm poured from her lips.
"I wasn't doing anything to hurt you. Alana just showed up out of the
blue. I don't want anything to do with her. I want you, Marilyn. I want
to be with you. You know that. I had relations with her a while ago and
she doesn't matter to me. What you saw was her coming on to me and
before  I  could  push  her  away,  I  heard  Tyler  saying  your  name.  I'm
sorry, Angel, I didn't mean to hurt you. I realize now that I should have
sent her on her way the moment I saw her but I wasn't thinking clearly.
I have no feelings for her. Look at me. I'm a wreck over you  - crazy
about  you."  His  eyes  were  pleading  with  hers,  showing  her  he  was
sincere.
"Why should I believe you? It brings back what I've been thinking all
along, that I don't really know you all that well. Sure, we've hung out
some and talked but I don't know what you do in your free time." As
she said all of this, she knew without a doubt that she would forgive
him. Why? Because she had come to trust him.
"You  should  believe  me  because  you  do  know  me.  What  you  see  is
what you get. I'm not afraid to tell you the truth. My free time is spent
thinking  about  ways  to  be  with  you,  where  you're  at  or  what  you're
doing. It's spent sitting in my car waiting for you to show up at your
house, or on your porch for that matter," he gestured towards her front
door.  "You  have  to  believe  me.  I'm  not  out  to  hurt  you.  Before  you,
there  were  so  many  women  I  thought  were  attractive-"  that  stung  a
little, thought Marilyn, "but they are not attractive now. Seeing Alana
made me gag. I don't know what I saw in her. And then I see you. This
amazingly  gorgeous  woman  who  wants  to  get  to  know  me  and  who
isn't afraid of me, isn't afraid to compliment me or yell at me." The last
part  he  said  with  his  lopsided  grin  and  it  almost  brought  her  to  her
knees.
Marilyn softened, "There isn't another woman in your life?"
Blake  was  dying  to  hold  this  woman  in  his  arms  but  he  held  back,
afraid she might still push him away. "No. There is only you, Marilyn. I

want  only  you  more  than  anything.  More  than  I  care  to  admit  to
myself." Finally, he was honest with himself. It felt good to say it out
loud.
"It's my turn to apologize. I'm sorry for storming out of the brewery and
not  giving  you  a  chance  to  explain  and  then  jumping  to  the  wrong
conclusions. That wasn't fair to you."
Blake  couldn't  believe  this.  Only  his  angel  would  apologize  for  his
wrongdoing.
"Marilyn, no. Don't apologize, okay? This is all on me. I'm sorry for
making you feel the way I did." It took him a split second before he was
standing right in front of her, his fingers reached out to tip her chin up,
her doe-like eyes once again reaching into his soul.
"Tell me what to do to make this right."
"You made it right."
She was dying for him to kiss her but he stood there so still, she wasn't
sure what he was thinking. She was pleading with her eyes, kiss me,
kiss me. But his bright green eyes continued to caress her face, over her
eyes, her nose, and her lips. He looked back into her eyes, down to her
lips and before she could open her mouth, Blake was devouring her.
His lips pressed into hers, hard and urgent. His hot tongue pried its way
into  her  mouth,  leaving  no  room  to  breathe.  He  knew  he  was  being
forceful  but  he  didn't  care.  He  was  tired  of  showing  restraint  where
Marilyn  was  concerned.  She  kissed  him  back  just  as  forcefully,
matching  his  nips  and  licks  tit  for  tat.  Her  arms  came  around  his
shoulders,  pulling  him  closer  to  her.  Was  that  possible?  She  needed
him. She wanted him to be a part of her, they weren't close enough. He
gripped her lower back with one hand while the other came up to cup
her  cheek.  Was  he  hurting  her?  She  didn't  back  down and  she  didn't
stop, she just keep meeting him in the middle. What he gave her, she
gave right back.
She  found  her  hands  coming  down  the  front  of  his  solid  chest,
unbuttoning  one  of  his  ever-present  plaid  shirts.  She  had  to  feel  his
skin, the ridges and contours of his solid body beneath her fingertips.
Boy, could she feel them. Each touch emitted a spark of electricity at
the  tips  of  her  fingers.  With  his  plaid  shirt  still  on,  she  reached
underneath the hem of his  white t-shirt, craving contact. There, right

The slight strength of those muscles contracting, spreading out like a
spider web. She warred with her hands and mind on whether or not she
should  move  them  up  his  Greek-like  body  or  move  them  down  his
Greek-like body, where there was no doubt an equally tempting treat
waiting for her.
Blake was slowly burning up. Marilyn's hands caressing his stomach
and  riding  along  the  waistband  of  his  Calvin  Klein's  was  almost  too
much. Ah, only an inch lower Angel and you'll make me real happy, he
thought. He was hard and ready. All she had to do was say the word and
he was hers. He didn't want to push her so in some unspoken agreement
between them, this had to be all Marilyn. She was going to have to take
charge  and  show  Blake  what  she  wanted.  When  his  stomach  felt  the
emptiness where her hands had been, he pulled back from their kisses.
They  were  both  breathing  hard  and  her  lips  and  cheeks  held  a  slight
flush. God, she was beautiful. She grabbed the collar of his shirt and
pulled it down his arms, Blake helping her get himself out of it. Then
she went back to the hemline on his white shirt and lifted it up as far as
she comfortably could before Blake had to take over and pull it over his
head. He threw it on the couch.

Chapter Seventeen
Marilyn's world tilted. Was she dreaming? Hadn't she seen Blake half
naked before? How could she have missed all of this? Was it that dark
in her room that night? She gulped. She was in trouble. His skin held
the color of a man who enjoyed the outdoors. His green eyes even the
ocean  envied,  she  had  no  doubt,  were  such  a  stark  contrast  to  his
sun-toned skin that she was unable to move. His chest was peppered
with  beauty  marks.  He  had  the  perfect  amount  of  chest  hair  spread
across  his  forbidden  chest  that  traveled  down  his  torso  creating  a
treasure trail that led to millions, she just knew. Of its own accord, her
hand  reached  out  to  his  chest,  feeling  the  soft  hairs  above  his  belly
button. Wow. So God really did make men like this. She licked her lips
and came out of her stupor. She met Blake's dancing eyes and felt her
cheeks flame up. Oh, how embarrassing. But this man was allowing her
to take her time and soak up everything about his half-naked body that
she could. She was sure he knew what he did to her. It was evident in
her eyes. Just as she knew what she was doing to him. She could see the
outline of his bulge protruding from his khaki cargo pants.
"Can I bite that lip too? It makes me jealous every time I see you biting
it. I want to bite it."
She giggled, did she really bite it that much when she was around him?
Probably, she bit it for two reasons: from keeping herself from saying
things she was thinking and from nervousness. So yeah, she probably
bit it around him quite a bit.
"You'll have your turn."
With her fingertips caressing his torso she slowly made her way around
his front, toward his back. She HAD to see his half-naked backside too.
This would get lost in the moment if she didn't look now. Blake eyed
her  with  suspicion  but  continued  to  stand  still.  He  slowly  turned  his
head so he could watch Marilyn in the mirror that hung in her living
room.  He  could  hear  her  let  out  a  gasp  and  immediately  felt  her
fingertips along his tattoo. He knew exactly which parts of it she was
exploring with her fingertips. U.S ARMY INFANTRY and then the

rifles  and  lastly,  DEATH  BEFORE  DISHONOR.  He  forgot  he  even
had
that tattoo  most days. Unless he saw it in the mirror or, usually, like
now, women always wanted to touch it. But once they did, he had it
memorized  by  touch  exactly  where  the  tattoo  was  placed  on  his
shoulder blade. He had gotten it when he went into infantry. It was the
only tattoo he had and would have. Aside from this, he couldn't think of
anything as important to ink on his body.
"It's extremely sexy. I like it," she told him breathlessly.
The soft sound of him chuckling always took her breath away, "Thank
you."
What else could he say? Her honesty always amazed him. She traced it
with  her  fingertips  once  again  before  Blake  felt  her  lips  pressed  up
against his skin. It was a butterfly kiss before she began exploring the
rest  of  his  torso.  His  muscles  thrummed  beneath  her  hands  as  if  she
were the puppeteer and he the puppet. She  marveled at how well his
back looked. He clearly cared about the way he looked and his health
for that matter. She pressed her stomach up against his back and started
pressing kisses along his shoulders again. If she was going to do this,
she was going to give him everything she had. She wanted to take her
time but the flame deep inside her belly was telling her it couldn't wait
much longer. It's like it knew, having sex with Blake was going to be
life-changing.
Blake  wasn't  sure  how  much  longer  he  could  take  these  sweet
temptuous kisses from this vixen. He didn't think she knew how badly
she  was  teasing  him.  He  stood  stoic,  letting  her  have  her  way,  when
what he really wanted to do was turn around, and lick every inch of her
body until she was dripping wet and then shove himself deep inside her
and fuck her senseless. Deep breaths, he thought.
She  kissed  her  way  around  him  and  now  faced  him  straight  on.  She
stole a look into his eyes and could see the green fire smoldering with
her every touch. He stayed so silent and still, she hoped she was doing
this  right.  She  kissed  the  bottom  part  of  his  neck,  moving  on  to  his
chest. Her tongue swept out and licked his nipple, instantly making it
protrude.
He released a deep sigh, "Angel, I can't take this torture much longer."

She  smiled  up  at  him  with  a  wicked  gleam  in  her  eyes,  "What?  My
strong soldier can't take a little torture? I think you can Blake."
She moved on to his other nipple, licking it as she did the other one.
This  time  she  sucked  it  in  to  her  mouth.  She  bit  down  on  it,  not  too
hard. Blake's hand came up to her waist, squeezing her tight. She kissed
some of his beauty marks on his chest and made her way up to his face.
He  crushed  his  lips  down  upon  hers,  taking  everything  she  was
offering.  He  kissed  her  fervently,  needy.  He  could  feel  her  hands
fumbling  with  his  belt  buckle,  finally  pulling  the  straps  free.  She
unbuttoned  his  shorts,  pulling  apart  the  zipper  while  his  mouth
devoured hers. He could feel her hands, her fingertips, brushing against
the tip of his penis, making his eminent release all the more urgent. She
pulled down his Calvin Klein's, just enough for the head of his erection
to protrude out. She rubbed the head of it with the palm of her hand. He
was so soft, she thought.
What  was  she  doing  to  him?  Blake  groaned.  One  little  touch  on  his
manhood from this woman and it felt like he was going to die standing.
He couldn't remember the last time a woman touched him like this. So
soft and gentle yet urgent, biding her time. She broke away from his
kiss and stood back getting a good look at his body. He liked the way
her face lit up at the sight of him, yet she had a hard time holding eye
contact with him. She was probably embarrassed, he thought, she tends
to shy away easily.
She could do this, she told herself. She had a hard time looking him in
the eye while she did this. She felt wanton, naughty. She reached for his
shorts, pulling on them until they fell to his ankles. She grabbed a hold
of his boxer briefs and slowly pulled them down as well. His legs were
strong and lean. She knelt in front of him and got her first look at his
manhood. Wow. Had she ever seen a man this, uh, large? Was he going
to fit inside of her when the time came? Could she actually do what she
intended to do with her mouth? She gripped his hard length with her
right hand, caressing his tip with the pad of her thumb. She then stroked
him down to his base. He shuddered. She stole a glance up at him and
his  dominant  eyes  were  on  her.  His  eyes  were  the  darkest  shade  of
green she had ever seen. Once again, she was mesmerized.
With her eyes on his, she opened her mouth and took him inside of

her. She could immediately see the storm brewing in his eyes as he slid
slowly inside her  mouth. He  was quite large, she thought. She could
feel the head of his thick shaft at the back of her throat. She sucked as
hard  as  she  could,  taking  him  all  the  way  into  her  mouth,  back  out.
Over and over. She tried not to break eye contact with him.
He momentarily closed his eyes, "No gag reflex? Huh, baby?"
She didn't answer him, just continued to devour him. In and out, in and
out. Blake could feel himself on the brink of flowing his seed into her
mouth. With each suck and lick of her tongue, she brought him closer
and closer.
Marilyn could feel his penis growing larger in her mouth and suddenly
he was grunting and she could feel his semen flowing like warm honey
inside  her  mouth.  She  swallowed  down  the  thick,  warm  liquid  and
watched him open his eyes. Oh man, Marilyn had never experienced
something that erotic and she hadn't even had an orgasm. She gripped
him hard one last time, and tickled the tip of his length with her tongue,
licking up his excess juice. He jerked away abruptly.
"Come here."
He  pulled  her  up  off  of  her  knees  and  picked  her  up  so  she  was
straddling him. He hobbled over to her dining room table, which was
thankfully free from clutter, and set her down on the tabletop. She was
wearing some floaty white skirt that went to her ankles. He would take
his time with this woman, he promised himself. It just wasn't going to
be right now. No, right now he was going to fuck her to kingdom come.
He bent down and took off his shoes and the rest of his clothes.
He fumbled in his back pocket for his wallet and took out a condom. He
hoped  she  had  more  because  this  was  going  to  be  a  long  night.  He
found his way up her skirt, pulling wildly at it, trying to find the center
-  her  center!  How  many  layers  of  cloth  was  this  thing  made  of?  He
finally found her bare legs and practically threw the skirt over her head.
Marilyn started giggling, "I could have helped," she smirked at
him.
"No way, Cupcake. This is all me."
He marveled at her white panties, her legs spread wide open. They

were made of some kind of lace with silver sequins all over the front.
They had a cute white bow in the center. He placed his thumb at her
center, pushing her panties to the side, he slid his fingers inside them.
He  touched  her  womanhood  with  his  fingertips.  Holy  hell,  she  was
dripping wet.
"Stick  your  fingers  inside  of  me,  Blake.  Please,  now.  I  need  it  so
badly," she whimpered.
Her body was starting to thrust back and forth as if she could will his
fingers into her core. He finally pushed two of his fingers inside. She let
out a moan. Man, she was tight and warm. With his palm upturned, he
slid his middle finger and ring finger out, in, out, in. With his free hand
he held her panties to the side so that his working hand had easy access
to push in, pull out. He couldn't believe how soaking wet she was, her
juices flowing all over his fingers. He cupped her sex with his palm,
grinding it along her hardened clit. She rocked her body back and forth.
Her  spread  legs  were  widening  and  squeezing  closed  on  their  own
accord.  He  could  feel  her  getting  close  to  an  orgasm.  Her  body  was
clenching tightly around his fingers.
Moments  passed  and  she  felt  the  earth-shattering  orgasm  course
through  her  blood.  His  words  from  a  few  weeks  ago  came  into  her
mind.  "The  one  place  I  would  stick  my  fingers  and  feel  you  shudder
around  them."  We  succeeded  in  that,  she  thought  with  a  grin.  She
opened her eyes, Blake's fingers were still inside of her. She couldn't
help the satisfied grin on her face. He gently pulled his fingers out and
to her embarrassment, lifted them  to his  mouth and sucked on them.
She couldn't believe he just did that!
Her horror  must have shown on her  face, "You don't like  me tasting
you? You taste so sweet, Marilyn. Follow me, I want to taste you some
more." His wicked grin was back. He put his hand out for her and she
grabbed a hold of it. How was it he was completely naked and she was
still fully clothed? She followed him into her bedroom. Although the
room wasn't completely dark yet, Blake insisted that the light be on - so
he could watch her every move.
"Let's get you out of these."
She marveled at his athletic body while he helped her out of her

top, then her skirt. Finally, she stood naked in front of him, his eyes
roaming  all  over  body.  She  began  to  feel  self  conscious  when  Blake
spoke up, "I have never seen anything more beautiful. It almost hurts."
It took all she had not to cover herself up with her hands, instead she
smiled shyly, "Thanks."
It  was  taking  all  of  Blake's  self  control  to  take  it  slow.  He  pushed
Marilyn down onto the bed and hovered over her. He held himself with
his forearms and kissed her lips. He kissed her neck, past her breasts
and  down  to  her  stomach.  He  drew  tantalizing  circles  around  her
abdomen,  drawing  an  imaginary  trail  down  to  her  womanhood.  She
was smooth and soft as the day she was born and it turned Blake on like
crazy. His hand touched her slick folds as he brought his mouth down
to  the  apex  of  her  thighs.  She  involuntarily  opened  her  legs  wider,
giving  Blake  better  access.  He  began  licking  and  sucking  her;  she
writhed beneath him. He finally stuck his fingers in her again, gaining
momentum. It didn't take long for her orgasm to hit. She screamed out,
grabbing Blake's head and pulling it closer into her body.
"Did that feel good Marilyn?"
She was trying to come to her senses. She opened her sexually-induced
comatose eyes and stared at Blake, who had a knowing grin on his face.
"I'm going to fuck you now and make you scream again," he said so
matter-of-factly, "are you ready?"
He grabbed the same condom he had intended to use in the dining room
and sheathed himself and torturously kissed her back up to her mouth.
She  could  faintly  smell  herself  on  his  lips.  It  made  her  feel
self-conscious  but  she  chose  not  to  dwell  on  it.  She  could  feel  his
erection pressed between her legs, could feel it right between her folds.
In one small movement, he would finally be inside of her.
With Blake still kissing her, he shoved himself hard, inside of her, no
longer  worried  about  waiting.  He  had  to  have  her,  make  her  his.
Marilyn  gasped  as  he  filled  her  from  head  to  toe.  He  was  extremely
large and it felt like he was tearing her apart. She bit down hard on his
lip. Blake groaned. He stayed still for a moment before slowly moving
in and out of her.

"Are you okay?" he whispered. She smiled back, "Perfect."
He  continued  with  the  movement,  gaining  speed  and  depth.  Until,
finally, they both reached the point of no return. Marilyn cried out his
name as he buried his face in between her neck and shoulder.
Marilyn  opened  her  eyes.  Her  backside  was  up  against  Blake's  front
side.  His  arms  were  wrapped  tightly  around  her.  She  was  facing  her
window and wondered what time it was since it was still dark outside.
She tried wiggling her head up a little bit as to not wake up Blake but
she could barely see the alarm clock. 3:03. They had an awesome night.
After making love to her one more time - which she was unaware that a
man could go that many rounds in a row - they were thoroughly spent.
She took note of her body and realized she was somewhat sore in all the
right  places.  Ahh,  but  she  felt  good.  She  couldn't  believe  how  many
orgasms  she  had.  All  in  one  night  ...  or  evening!  By  a  sexy-as-hell,
sinfully  delicious,  knows-how-to-do-it,  man.  She  couldn't  help  the
widespread grin across her face. Her stomach growled. When was the
last time she ate? She couldn't remember. Not the entire time Blake had
been there. And she was so furious yesterday she hadn't had anything
after she left the brewery. Yeah, it had been awhile. She turned slightly
in his arms to watch him sleep but was surprised to find his eyes open,
watching her.
"You're awake. Why didn't you say anything?"
Blake's sleepy grin was more than her heart could take, "And ruin the
moment? I like watching you think, think, think. What are you thinking
about? Aside from eating," he joked.
"I was thinking of how good sex can make a woman feel. And how it
has  been  far  too  long  since  a  man  has  given  me  an  orgasm,"  she
admitted.
"I aim to please, Angel. Now, let's go find something to eat so I have
enough strength to ravish you some more."
He surprised himself by not getting his things on and leaving. In  the
past, this was generally the time he rolled out, not wanting to spend the
night. But tonight, he told himself, was different. He just wasn't sure in
which way yet. He kissed her gently, trying to ignore the feeling deep

Chapter Eighteen
Marilyn got to the bookstore just in time to open the doors. She  met
Kay coming in which was quite unusual because Marilyn was always
there long before opening. "Good morning."
"Good morning back. How are you, Kay?"
"Just chipper! And yourself?" Marilyn could feel her cheeks becoming
brighter and brighter. Was it true the world really did know if you just
had great sex?
"I'm doing well. Same ole, same ole." She stole a glance up at Kay and
saw her staring at her. "What?"
"Ohmigosh,  you  finally  did  it,  didn't  you?  Blake  finally  had  his  way
with you, huh? About damn time Marilyn. I would have let that man
have me at hello. I can't believe it took you this long. You needed it!
You  look  great.  Your  eyes  are  all  sparkly,  etcetera,  etcetera,"  Kay's
hands were motioning towards Marilyn's body.
Oh, Marilyn was so embarrassed right now. How could Kay know what
went  down  last  night?  Marilyn's  instinct  wanted  to  deny  it,  but  on
another level she wanted the world to know: Blake Bryant took me to
bed and made love to me for hours and hours and HE IS ALL MINE!
Marilyn  couldn't  hide  the  grin  that  spread  across  her  face,  "A  lady
never kisses and tells."
"Lucky for you, you don't have to. I can see it all over your face!" Kay's
cackling laugh could be heard as she walked all the way into the back
of the store.
The day drug by unusually slow. There were a few customers but the
traffic didn't seem to be up to par. Even the espresso bar wasn't doing
that great - not the kind of turnout Marilyn liked to see anyway. She
was happy that the weekend was approaching. She and Blake had made
plans for Sunday. She was going to meet him at the brewery and once
he sent the truck off, they were going to enjoy lunch and head over to
the local lake where they could rent standup paddle boards, water trikes
and

kayaks. The weather had been pleasantly nice all week and now that
Memorial Day had passed, the concessions and rentals at the lake were
open.
She had sent Kay home already and called Mackenzie and told her she
didn't  need  to  come  in  unless  she  wanted  the  hours  -  which  Marilyn
totally understood. When you're a high school student, it's always nice
to have extra money and she didn't want Mackenzie looking around for
another job. She liked her. She was a good girl. With her strawberry
blond hair, bouncing with tight curls, the girl was extremely happy, not
to mention intelligent. She took mostly advanced placement classes at
school and she already knew her two choices of colleges she wanted to
get into. She helped Marilyn out at the store a great deal.
Marilyn  was  bored.  She  looked  at  the  clock.  Checked  the  register.
Emptied the trash cans. She dug her phone out of her purse and texted
Blake.
TO: Lover Boy
Does e y  'eryone always know when a girl has
had amazing sex? FROM: An Angel
Blake  grinned.  He  mulled  the  question  over  in  his  mind  before
answering.
TO: An Angel
Only if said girl blushes easily. And has
brown/hazel eyes that are an open book. FROM: Lover Boy
Marilyn groaned. Of course that's how people always busted her! She
was an open book, so easy to read.
TO: LoverBoy
Anything new with the investigation? FROM: An Angel
She barely had time to hit send, when her phone rang. "Hello?"
"It's so much better to hear your voice than sending you messages back
and forth. Are you having a good day?"

Her heart had palpitations; he always sounded so confident. A man of
few  words  who  chose  them  wisely,  anything  he  said  came  out
eloquently and without pretense. And here she was, stumbling over her
words, with just a single 'how do you do' from him.
"I am. Business is pretty slow, I just thought I'd say hi. What are you
doing?"
"Thinking about last night."
That  was  all  he  said.  Then,  silence.  Her  breathing  quickened  as  she
thought of last night. She found her voice and whispered, "What about
it?" Did she want to know? What if it wasn't exactly what he expected?
What if he didn't like the way her body looked or how big her boobs
weren't?
His soft chuckle brought her  mind back  into focus, "It wasn't  what  I
expected, that's for sure." Great, she knew it! "Look, I'm sorry if I'm not
all exper-"
"Marilyn?  It  wasn't  what  I  expected  because  it  was  extremely
gratifying,  nothing  else.  When  you  got  down  on  your  knees  in  the
living  room?  That  was  the  sexiest  thing  I  have  ever  seen,  ever
experienced. You  have the  most beautiful eyes and watching you do
that to me and looking up at me, very hot!"
It  was  her  turn  to  be  silent.  He  always  just  said  it  like  it  was.  No
tiptoeing around with him!
"It's making me hard now thinking about it. Good thing I'm home," he
confessed. Thank God he was home where no one could see him. She
truly had no idea what she did to him, he thought.
She surprised herself, "I like imagining you wound up because of me.
That night we were texting, that was all I could think about, how it was
me  making  you,  well,  uncomfortable.  Then  it  made  me  think  of  you
relieving yourself and that thought drove me crazy."
"Did you touch yourself that night? Like you teased?" his  voice was
rough, demanding.
Oh what the hell, she thought, "Yes," was all she replied.
She could hear his sigh, "Baby, you drive me crazy. I haven't been able
to stop thinking about last night and now hearing your voice makes

me want to relieve all this pent-up energy."
"Do it. With me on the phone, Blake. I want to hear you." Her panties
were damp, her clit was tightening, begging for attention.
"You want me to, Angel? You want me to unbutton my shorts and free
myself so you can hear me jack off?"
Marilyn  was  getting  extremely  turned  on  by  his  brash  talk.  She
muttered  an  mmm-hmmm  because  she  didn't  have  a  voice  to  say
anything else.
Blake couldn't believe their conversation had escalated to this. Here he
was sitting on his leather couch with his dick in his hand, ready to do
anything to please this woman. And he was okay with that. He wanted
to please her, he wanted to make her happy.
"It's out, Marilyn. It wants you here, straddling it, you know?" He used
his right hand and with firm pressure, began to stroke it up and down.
He  built  up  his  speed,  starting  slowly,  gently  stroking  it  to  full-on
jacking off.
Marilyn was whispering in his ear, a giggle escaping, "I wish I was on
it, too. I'm sitting inside the bookstore at the counter and my panties are
so wet, Blake. I want to touch myself but I don't want someone to walk
in and see me."
He kept his pace, strong and fast. Roughly, he replied, "Do it for me
Marilyn. Feel your wetness. No one can see what you are doing sitting
there.  Are  you  wearing  the  skirt  you  left  for  work  in  this  morning?"
"Yes."
He  could  feel  himself  on  the  edge,  he  was  certain  the  minute  she
touched herself, it would put him over the edge. "Then do it."
Marilyn guiltily looked out the front windows, making sure no one was
around. She hoisted her bare feet on the ledge of the cubby underneath
the  counter  and  spread  her  legs  open.  She  quickly  found  her  moist
center  and  plunged  her  fingers  inside.  Marilyn  moaned,  "It  feels  so
good."
Blake could feel himself enlargening, "Your fingers are inside of you,
Marilyn?"

"Yes," was her only response.
As  if  on  cue,  he  began  to  come.  Marilyn  could  hear  his  breathing
change  over  the  phone  and  nothing  sounded  sexier  than  that.  It
delighted her that she could do this to him. And she didn't even have to
be there in
person!
Blake hurriedly cleaned himself up and decided this wasn't going to be
enough. After last night, he wanted more the moment he had left her
house. Now, he only lived approximately eight blocks away from her
store and he drove like hell to get there, all the while with Marilyn on
the phone touching herself. Of course, he didn't mention to her that he
was on his way. Keep her touching and talking, he thought.
"Tell me how it feels, Marilyn."
When he used her name, he sounded so dominating she thought. No
matter what words he was saying, using her name made it sound all the
more demanding, sexy - like he knew he could bend her at his will.
She had never done this before. The mere act of masturbating over the
phone with a man, or trying to explain how it felt. Oh, where should she
begin, she debated.
"It feels...um, it feels good. I'm not very good at this Blake."
"Are you wet? Dripping wet?" he asked hoarsely.
"Um, yeah. Of course. Always."
"What are you thinking about?"
"You.  I'm  thinking  of  you,  um,  touching  me."  This  was  erotic  and
nerve-wracking at the same time, she thought.
He hopped out of his car and headed toward her front door.
"Don't be panicked if you see someone walking up to your store, it's
just me." He let out that sexy chuckle, "I couldn't stay away."
He opened the door and he walked into the most beautiful sight his eyes
had ever seen. He stopped dead in his tracks, unable to move, unable to
breathe. There she sat with her russet colored hair cascading over her
shoulders, all the curls framing her face. She wore the red top he had
left her in this morning. Her right hand was clearly between her legs but
since the counter was there, he couldn't see the details.
Her  eyes  were  glossy,  clearly  turned  on  but  he  could  see  the
embarrassment there as well. Of him walking in on her doing the most

personal act? He didn't know. Her cheeks were flushed. Her pink lips
were slightly parted and there came her tongue swiping at her upper lip.
Time stood still between them for the moment. She was gazing at him
with  her  flirty  eyes,  and  he  at  her.  There  were  no  other  sounds
registering in their ears. No one existed at that moment, just them.
Marilyn  was  in  shock.  She  couldn't  believe  he  had  caught  her  doing
this. Well technically, he didn't catch her. He knew what she was doing.
He  surprised  her  is  all.  And  now  he  stood  inside  Lusting  after
Literature's doorway like a lost kitten. He looked like he had showered
since she saw him last. He wore no hat today. His stubble she saw this
morning  had  been  shaved  away.  He  had  on  khaki-colored  shorts  but
this time they were dressier than the cargo shorts she had come to love.
He had on a navy blue collared shirt. Yum, he looked like paradise, she
thought.
Dropping her phone onto the counter, she raised her left hand and gave
him  the  'come  hither'  signal.  That  finally  got  him  moving.  What
seemed  to  take  forever  since  he  walked  in,  he  finally  made  his  way
around the corner of the counter. Yes, she was still touching herself.
He said nothing as he came and stood behind her. He bent down and
gently lifted her legs off the step, one then two. He swiveled her to the
side so that she was facing him and he had enough room to get on his
knees. She was now facing the door and bay windows, looking out onto
Main Street. What a rush she was getting with her legs spread-eagle in
her bookstore while watching all the cars go by. People were out and
about  running  errands,  doing  things  and  here  she  sat  watching  them
while God's-gift-to-women kneeled in front of her taking her panties
off.
He leaned forward, cupped her buttocks and scooted her to the edge of
her stool. He began licking and sucking her sex, much like he did last
night. She couldn't take it for too long. It was such an extreme pleasure
that her body couldn't take the feeling. She squirmed and twisted while
he held onto her firmly. She placed her hands on his shoulders as she
felt the beginnings of an orgasm start. She threw her head back and let
out a moan as it took hold of her.
Slowly, she felt him  standing up between her legs. She looked up at
him.  His  lips  were  wet.  His  naughty  green  eyes  were  gleaming  with
desire.

Cocky he said, "My turn." And he grabbed her hand and made her stand
up.
She  giggled  because  she  still  felt  so  wanton  doing  what  they  were
doing  inside  her  bookstore.  Where,  at  any  given  moment,  a  patron
could walk in. She was still open! She also found it sexy that neither
one of them were really in the mood for talking.
He  had  already  turned  her  facing  the  counter.  He  pushed  her  hands
down on the counter and gently pushed her ankles apart. His hands ran
up along her backside pushing up her skirt to her waist. She was utterly
and completely exposed to him. Before she had much time to think, she
could feel him seeking access from behind. She spread her legs farther
apart for him, this man who could make her feel sexy like no other man
had.
Blake pushed himself inside Marilyn. Her natural juices helping him
slide inside. From this position, she felt extremely tight. The top half of
her body was slowly working its way toward the counter. With each
stroke, her breasts inched lower and lower toward the counter, making
Blake's  motions  easier  and  thus,  making  him  pump  faster.  Marilyn's
breasts  were  now  fully  pressed  down  against  the  counter,  her  head
mere inches away from banging into her office supplies.
This  turned  her  on  more  than  anything.  This  strength  of  him,  being
behind her, controlling her, having his way with her - this is what she
needed. The need in her was so great she was close to having an orgasm
again. A mere touch to her clitoris would send her over the edge.
After  their  long  night,  she  was  beginning  to  learn  Blake's  body  and
could tell when he was getting close to his release. His breathing sped
up, his hands on her hips tightened and if this was possible, she could
feel him enlargening inside of her.
Blake was getting ready to explode. All of the excitement -listening to
her over the phone, driving over here, seeing her behind the counter,
pushing her over said counter  and knowing that at any  moment they
would  get  caught,  didn't  have  him  lasting  very  long.  He  reached
between Marilyn's legs and found her clitoris. He merely touched it and
he could feel her tightening around his cock, grinding herself into him.
That was enough to send him over the edge as well.

In the quietness, they listened to each other's laborious breathing. He
didn't pull out of her right away. He stood still and she made no attempt
to  get  up.  Every  time  Blake  got  this  feeling  in  his  chest,  he  tried
ignoring  it.  But  in  this  moment,  that  seemed  suspended  in  time,  he
knew he was falling for her. Fuck, he had long fallen. She wasn't like
any other woman he had been with. It was like she excelled at every
one  of  his  'wants  and  needs'  list.  Beautiful.  Check.  Smart.  Check.
Independent.  Double  check.  Gave  him  a  run  for  his  money.  Triple
check. Passionate lover. Check, check, check, check.
He eased out of her and threw the used condom in the waste basket. He
helped her up and slid her skirt back down.
"Was I too rough?"
Marilyn was afraid to look him directly in the eyes. She was afraid that
he might see that she had fallen in love with him.
"No, of course not. You were quite wonderful."
He turned her chin up so he could see into her eyes and she was met
with the same gaze peering back at her.
"Then why aren't you looking at me?"
"Just nervous," she bit down hard on her lower lip.
He grazed her lip with his fingertip as if doing so would ease her teeth
off of it.
"You don't have to be nervous around me anymore."
Just then her front door swung open.
"Got some mail here for ya, Marilyn. Running way behind today."
Marilyn blushed, they very well could have been caught having sex!
By the postman, nonetheless! She had completely forgotten about the
mailman! Thank God he was running late!
Blake had a full on smile as he reached over the counter to the postman,
"Thanks, man."
"No problem. See you tomorrow."
Finally Marilyn found her voice, "Thanks, Hal."
Blake set her mail down, "You are so amazing. I have to go to Poudre
Hops. Call me later?"
"I will. I'm going to close up soon." She was grinning like a fool. She
stood on her tiptoes and placed a kiss on the corner of his lips. "See

Chapter Nineteen
It was Sunday. A perfect day for a date with Blake. The weather was
beautiful, warm enough to play in the water. She had been waiting all
week.  Even  though  they  got  to  see  each  other  here  and  there,  they
hadn't spent more than a few hours together. Except for the night Blake
had spent the night.
Marilyn twirled around in front of her mirror, checking out her dress. It
was a plain dress. All white, tied around her neck. She wore only her
panties  underneath  and  had  packed  a  bag  full  of  necessities  -bathing
suit, sunscreen, blanket and towels. She slipped into a pair of matching
flip-flops,  grabbed  her  purse  and  was  ready  to  go.  She  was  going  to
drive over to the brewery to meet Blake; he had to finish up the delivery
truck and off they were headed to lunch and then the lake. She couldn't
wait!
She had been looking forward to this break all week. It's not as if work
was actually difficult this week, it was the fact that her mind had been
so  occupied  with  something,  er  someone,  else  that  she  could  hardly
focus at work and had difficulty remembering things she needed to do
and had already done. Kay knew her head was in the clouds and had
thankfully  been  there  to  pick  up  her  slack.  But  still,  as  a  business
owner, she needed to have her head in the game.
After pulling in to the brewery parking lot, she gathered her purse and
her beach bag because they were going to drive Blake's car. She locked
up and headed inside, hoping Tyler wasn't there. She still  felt a little
guilty about not telling Blake about Tyler being a creep and she didn't
want to see Tyler and Blake together, so she'd be forced into small talk
with him - pretending she wasn't still furious with him.
She made her way through the bar area and toward Blake's office. She
acknowledged that her heart still hurt from the last time she was here
and had overheard Blake with Alana. She made her way to the door and
peeked in. It was empty. He must be in the back working on the truck
load, she thought.
She continued on and found him loading the truck. She still

marveled at how strong he was. He hefted kegs on to the platform like
they weighed nothing. She set her beach bag on the ground and was just
getting ready to set down her purse, when her phone rang. Blake looked
up, startled, and she caught his eyes and waved before she answered.
"Wow. You get a boyfriend and you act like we don't exist."
"Amber! I just talked to you two days ago. And I texted you about that
website I was telling you about and I got not a single response. So take
that! What are you doing?"
"Oh,  just  wondering  if  I'm  ever  going  to  run  into  Mr.
Right-in-all-the-right-places again or if that was just a fluke."
"So  still nothing, huh? Maybe he doesn't live around here. I wish he
did. As much as you don't want to admit this, I think you like or liked
the
guy."
"You're right, as usual, I hate admitting that, but I think you're right.
But it's stupid, unless Mother of Fate steps in, I am never going to see
him again."
Marilyn  walked  over  to  the  truck  and  watched  Blake  move,  up  and
down, standing, bending. When he was focused, he was fast, efficient.
He  loaded  the  truck  without  hesitation.  The  muscles  in  his  forearms
flexed. It made her heart skip beats thinking of those same arms and
hands touching her body. She tuned back in to Amber.
"I'm sorry, Amber. What happened between you two happened so long
ago anyway, you guys are totally different people now. Listen, let me
call you back, I just walked into the brewery and I haven't had a chance
to say hello to Blake yet."
Amber let out a sarcastic, "Say hello from me, too," before she hung up.
Marilyn barely had a chance to stick her phone inside her purse before
Blake attacked her. He nibbled on her lips, squeezing her tightly into
his chest.
"Hi.  Never  thought  you  were  going  to  hang  up,"  he  murmured,  still
nibbling her lips, sticking his tongue inside her mouth.
She finally pushed him away, giggling, "Hi. She wouldn't have, that's
why I said I had to go. How's the loading going?" she gestured toward
the truck.

"Almost done. I got caught up on something else but I just have this
here and I will be good to go."
"Okay.  Take  your  time.  I  enjoy  watching  you  work,"  she  smiled
wickedly.
Blake went back to it. Marilyn leaned against the railing and watched
him finish.
"I need to go to my office and get a printout, I will be right back." "I
won't go anywhere."
Marilyn  watched  him  go.  She  was  relieved  Tyler  wasn't  there.  She
really didn't want to run into him. She made her way onto the platform
and into the back of the truck. It wasn't a big semi truck, nothing like
that. It was a small delivery vehicle - much like a FedEx or UPS truck.
Blake  had  loaded  it  very  efficiently.  She  heard  someone  talking,  his
voice low and urgent. She peeked out just in time to see Tyler talking
on his phone, heading toward her. Shit! Maybe if she just stood in here
a few moments, he would go away without noticing her.
"It's  here,  loaded  and  ready,"  he  spoke  into  his  phone.  Whatever  the
person said on the other end got him riled up, "I have to sign off on the
shipment and it will be ready. He already knows I'm driving it. I talked
him into it."
This conversation was giving her the creeps. Who was he talking to?
And why did it matter if he convinced Blake to let him drive the truck?
She could feel the uneasiness growing inside her belly. She crouched
behind some boxes that were labeled Poudre Hops Summer
Ale.
"I know what the fuck I'm doing. I will drive it out to Willow Creek
Road, it's far enough from town. You guys better be there! Don't be late
either!  I  can't  have  a  fucking  beer  truck  sitting  alongside  the  road
waiting to get robbed."
Marilyn was going to puke. Her head was pounding, her hands were
shaking, and she felt like she couldn't get enough air inside her lungs.
Was  this  an  anxiety  attack?  What  had  Tyler  gotten  himself  into?  He
was  robbing  the  trucks?  Why?  He  was  robbing  himself  essentially?
This didn't make any sense. Fuck, she had to get out of here. How was
she going to do that now with Tyler standing down there?

Her  mind  couldn't  process  what  was  happening.  She  could  feel  the
pounding movements as Tyler made his way up the loading dock. The
next thing she knew, the rattling sound of metal on metal filled her ears
as the loading door of the truck began to close.
Should she scream out now? Her mind finally registered that Blake had
never  came  back.  Where  did  he  go?  Locked  inside  the  truck  it  was
awfully  dark.  How  long  did  it  take  before  someone  died  from
suffocation in an enclosed space like this? Oh no, here comes another
anxiety  attack.  Her  heart  was  pounding,  no  air  was  getting  into  her
lungs.  Breathe,  Marilyn,  breathe.  Slow  and  steady.  Don't  panic  now.
For God's sake, don' t throw up.
The truck engine rumbled to life. Oh no, she thought. It idled for a few
moments  before  it  lurched  forward,  braked  and  steadily  went  on  its
way.
She  knew  the  location  of  the  brewery  well  enough  to  know  which
direction they were headed. Out of the parking lot. Stop sign. Right turn
toward Main Street. Street light. Right turn onto Main Street. And after
a few  moments of driving straight on Main,  Tyler turned right again
and she was lost. No, Marilyn thought, I'm not lost! I have my purse!
She  reached  into  her  purse  and  found  her  phone.  She  hit  the  GPS
indicator and the tiny blue dot pinpointed her location.
Okay, you can do this, she told herself. She had a text from Blake
TO: An Angel
Where'd u go? FROM: LoverBoy
Blake is going to be crushed when he hears that it has been Tyler. She
typed as fast as she could.
TO: LoverBoy
I'm on the de/fi/ery truck/.'/ it's Tyler. I heard him on the phone and I
was in the truck so I hid and now I'm stuck! He is going out to Willow
Creek Road. Call the police! FROM: An Angel
What the fuck? Blake re-read her message again. Not thinking, he

grabbed  his  keys  and  ran  to  his  car.  He  had  to  go  find  her.  What  if
something bad went down? He sped out of the lot.
TO: An Angel
Tyler? WTF? Where r u? Stay put! I don't want
u hurt. FROM: LoverBoy
Ha!  Stay  put?  She  sure  as  hell  wasn't  attempting  to  go  anywhere.
Marilyn  looked  at  the  GPS  again.  They  were  on  a  county  road,  still
heading north. The next crossroad was about a mile away. What if he
turns? And where the hell was Willow Creek Road?? She texted Blake
the  road  and  direction  they  were  heading  as  well  as  their  upcoming
cross road and asked if he called the police as well.
Fuck, the police! In Blake's excitement about worrying over Marilyn's
welfare  he  completely  forgot  to  call  them.  Who  was  that  guy?  Jim.
Blake scrolled through his phone trying to find his number. He hit send
and waited. Voicemail. Crap. He hit his steering wheel. Son of a bitch.
He left him a detailed message, explaining as best as he could about the
situation  and  what  Marilyn  texted  him.  That  was  difficult.
Communicating by text was not the best method of communication.
Let alone trying to relay that little bit to someone else.
Should he call 911? He supposed he better. He wanted another update
from Marilyn as to her location before he called them though.
He had to get to Marilyn. He felt sick to his stomach. What the hell had
gone  wrong?  One  minute  he  was  in  his  office  getting his  paperwork
and when he went out to the loading area, Tyler had the truck ready to
go. Her beach bag was still there so at first he hadn't really worried. He
had assumed she had gone to the bathroom, but when he went back to
his office the bathroom was open so he texted her and now this  was
happening.
Would Tyler hurt her if he found her in the back of that truck? That was
the  million-dollar  question.  He  was  hoping  that  having  been  an  old
girlfriend of Tyler's, that luck would be on her side. Of course, he never
suspected Tyler of hijacking their delivery trucks either, so that didn't
give him a real comfort level. Why was he doing this? It was obviously

Chapter Twenty
How was she going to explain what she was doing in the truck when
Tyler opened the back and she was inside? He was going to hurt her,
she had a sickening feeling in her gut. She was afraid he was going to
hurt her that day  when he came to the store and now? She knew his
dirty deeds and she was going to be there to witness it.
He was going to hurt her.
The  only  comfort  Marilyn  had  was  her  purse,  which  held  her  gun
tucked inside. Thank God Amber had called when she did. She almost
set her purse down along with her beach bag and then she really would
have been screwed. Okay, think, Marilyn! she told herself. Her heart
was still beating frantically but she was no longer shaking and feeling
queasy.  She  opened  her  purse  and  took  out  her  gun  from  the  secret
zipper compartment. She released the clip and checked the bullets. Six.
That was a good sign. She was certain  it was full but nothing wrong
with  double-checking.  She  shoved  the  magazine  back  in  and  cocked
the  gun,  allowing  a  bullet  to  move  into  the  chamber.  She
double-checked the safety and instead of putting it back into her secret
zipper  compartment  she  laid  it  just  inside  her  purse.  With  this  damn
dress she was wearing, she couldn't hide a thing in it. She prayed that
Tyler and his comrades would take the high road and decide not to hurt
her. And she hoped the police were on their way as well. She checked
her GPS and then texted Blake.
TO: LoverBoy
Did  Ucail  the  police?  Are  they  coming?  W e   are  still  heading north.
FROM: An Angel
Almost instantly:
TO: An Angel
/ called Jim. Stay put. I'm coming. Be careful, I
don't want anything happening to u .   FROM: LoverBoy

A thrill of excitement ran through Marilyn's body. He was coming after
them? To save her? If before she questioned that she could actually be
in love with him, now she knew. Yes. She was in love with him. Who
did he think he was that he could just come and rescue her? She loved
it.
TO: Lover Boy
What??? UR CRAZY! Be careful! He is meeting other people there. I
don't want you 2 get hurt Blake. WAIT FOR THE POLICE!
FROM: An Angel
Wait for the police? Didn't she know who she was talking to? Like hell
was he waiting for the police when the woman he loved was sitting in
the back of a truck that was going to get ambushed.
TO: An Angel
Quit yelling at me! I'm not waiting 4 anyone.
Surely, I'm getting closer t o  u at this pant.
Where u at? FROM: LoverBoy
Marilyn pulled up the GPS. They were now on Willow Creek Road. Oh
no. She was getting nervous again. At any moment the truck was going
to stop and they were going to start transferring the beer into their other
mode  of  transportation.  Was  there  any  way  to  hide  from  that?  No.
Damn it. She wished she were invisible. This was not going to be good
once they found out she was back here.  All sorts of bad things were
running through her mind. She just hoped the police got here in time.
She felt the truck slowing down. She could hear the tell-tale sounds of
gravel hitting the undercarriage of the truck. Yeah, they were out here
in the middle of nowhere.
The  truck  finally  pulled  over  and  Marilyn  quickly  set  her  phone  to
silent  mode  and  sent  Blake  a  text  telling  him  they  were  in  fact,  on
Willow Creek Road and they were coming to a stop.
Blake pulled up his GPS. It didn't look like he was too far away from
Willow Creek Road. He had to get there. He had to get there in time to
get to Marilyn. There was no telling what Tyler or any of the people he
was meeting would do to her once he found her in the back.

Chapter Twenty One
Her  heartbeat  started  to  speed  up  again.  Marilyn  could  hear  voices
outside.  How  many  men  were  there?  She  couldn't  keep  track.  She
couldn't hear enough to identify each voice. Hell, for all she knew there
could be ten men out there just as well as there could be four. At least
there were two. Oh this was going to get tricky. Right now she knew
she had the element of surprise on her side. No one but Blake knew she
was  in  here  and  he  wasn't  here  yet.  And  she  had  her  ever  faithful
three-eighty. You had to love guns. Thank God for that. Now, if she
could get her breathing under control and have the sick feeling in her
stomach go away, she'd be good as gold.
She heard the scraping of what must be the lock on the truck door and
then  slowly,  the  gate  started  rolling  up.  Sunlight  poured  in,
momentarily blinding her, along with the scent of freshly cut hay. It felt
like it took her a lifetime for her eyes to adjust to the light. She could
hear catcalls and yelps as the gate rolled open exposing their treasures.
She held herself tight in a ball - her knees to her chest, her purse strap
on her left arm - in case she had to reach in and pull her gun out, she
wanted to be doing it with her shooting hand, and her arms wrapped
tightly around her body.
She  could  hear  Tyler's  voice  yelling  at  the  men,  "Back  it  up  closer.
Hurry up man, we need to get this shit transferred. It's broad daylight
out - an old farmer could drive by at any time."
Another  voice,  "Chill  man,  we  got  this.  We've  done  it  before.  You
forget we did this last time, piece of cake."
Mere  seconds  later  she  could  feel  the  men  at  the  back  of  the  truck,
hauling the beer out. She suspected they were in a working man's line
-one  guy  unloading  and  passing  it  off  to  the  other  men.  She  really
wanted to peek out and see how many men she was up against. All it
would take was a quick glance to her left and she would be able to peer
out.  She  really  wanted  to  peek.  Tempting.  Maybe  she  could  get  her
phone out and take some pictures of these guys doing bad shit and then
if they caught her and killed her, at least there would be proof on her
phone. That was

tempting too. As she considered the odds of doing this and not getting
caught, she heard the guys yelling, too many voices and then Tyler in a
smug voice, "Oh shit, look who it is. It's alright guys, we can take care
of him. It's the owner of the brewery."
Blake wasn't sure what he was getting himself into but as soon as he
pulled up his eyes were searching frantically for Marilyn. Where in the
hell  was  she?  Tyler  and  three  other  men  were  standing  between  his
delivery truck and the other truck. Was it possible she was still hiding
inside  undetected?  Or  had  they  already  found  her  and  done
God-knows-what with her? His heart felt like it was about to explode,
his eyesight was blurry. He was so pissed, if Tyler hurt her in any way,
he would kill him.
He had to play his cards right once he got out of the car. He worried
about  this  situation  on  the  way  here.  Tyler  didn't  know  Marilyn  was
hiding in the truck and if he drove up, Tyler would know something
was up.
He put his hand on the door handle, took a deep breath and stepped
out.
"Blake,  my  friend,  looks  like  you  came  at  the  wrong  time,"  Tyler
smirked.
He  made  Blake  sick,  "I'm  not  your  friend.  Being  part-owner  wasn't
good enough for you, man?"
"Come on, I have bigger things in life that aren't going to be taken care
of by owning only half of a small-town brewery. Bills to pay. Besides,
how'd you figure out it was me?"
Blake hesitated. He wasn't quite sure what to say.
"I put a tracker underneath the truck and the minute it started veering
away from its delivery destinations, I started following it." He hoped
that sounded truthful.
"You're a pretty good businessman, Blake, but following me wasn't the
smartest thing you've ever done."
Tyler finally walked over toward Blake. They were standing about a
foot  apart.  Blake  itched  to  throw  blows  at  him.  He'd  love  to  rip  his
fucking head off right now for scaring the shit out of him and for taking
his beer. You don't mess with a man and his brew.

"It  looks  to  me  it  was.  What  are  you  going  to  do  about  it  anyway,
Tyler?" Blake stepped closer.
Tyler threw a right hook first, knocking Blake square in the jaw, the
force making Blake unsteady on his feet. Blake lunged at Tyler, both of
them going down to the ground. Blake had the advantage of being on
top and with all his pent up anger over Tyler harming Marilyn, Blake
began hitting Tyler with all his might.
Marilyn didn't realize tears were streaming down her face until she felt
her nose running. She had to get a grip. She heard Blake pull up. Heard
the confrontation and what sounded like fighting. At first she had heard
the other men standing close to the truck yelling their praises at Tyler
until one of the guys insisted Tyler needed help. What did that mean?
Were they all going to start fighting Blake? Deep breaths, deep breaths
Angel,  you  can  do  this.  She  pulled  herself  together  and,  for  good
measure, took a few more deep breaths. At this point she could hear the
scuffling and sounds of Blake being hit by the guys. She could hear the
guys yelling and cussing at him for showing up, thinking he was smart
-where in the fuck were the police? She had to get out there and help
him. Would they beat him so badly that it could kill him? How could
she have just met the man of her dreams only to have him taken from
her in such a short time? No. That last thought did it for her.
With steady hands, she reached inside her purse and grabbed her gun.
She  pushed  the  safety  off,  set  her  purse  aside  and  slowly  stood  up.
From  her  vantage  point  she  watched  as  Blake  tried  to  put  up  a  fight
against each one of the guys that went after him. When one had gotten
his fill, the next guy stepped in. Try as he might, he couldn't keep up
with them though. Her heart hurt. She could feel the weight of the hurt
dragging it down as she slowly inched forward with all her love. Trying
to go slow so she didn't draw attention, she made it to the end of the
truck.  Her  white  dress  was  a  mess,  she  was  certain  her  eyes  were
bloodshot from crying and there was her man trying to put up a fight
against four other men. They got him to the ground were they began
kicking him over and over repeatedly.
She needed to get their attention. She did what any normal girl would
do. Arms steady, she lifted the gun, got in her best shooter's

stance and aimed  at the left tire of the other truck. The sound of the
gunshot  filled  the  air.  The  tire  popped.  All  of  the  men  jumped  away
from Blake as if their life depended on it. And it did, thought Marilyn.
She  was  no  longer  scared.  She  was  in  a  don't-fuck-with-me  kind  of
mood.
"Marilyn? What the fuck are you doing here?" Tyler seemed genuinely
befuddled.
"Back up!" She yelled. "All of you. Back away from him. Move," She
screamed.
She kept her Smith and Wesson trained on them, willing them away
from Blake. She couldn't focus much on him but she saw that his eyes
were squinting up at her, his head coming slightly off the ground.
"You bastard," she began. "I heard you on the phone when you came
into the loading area for the shipment. How could you do this? I knew
something  was  going  on  with  you  that  day  you  stopped  by  the  book
store and came unglued. I knew it!" She stomped her foot for emphasis.
"Don't move!" She yelled again as one of the men inched closer to her.
"I promise you all I am more skilled with a gun than your average girl.
Do not move or I will shoot you."
"Marilyn,  put  the  gun  down.  There's  nowhere  to  go.  What  are  you
going to do? Shoot all of us?" He sounded almost like he felt sorry for
her and that really made her mad.
"If I need to, yes. But the police are on their way so I'm hoping we don't
need to resort to that before they get here. I doubt they would bring an
ambulance with them so chances are you would bleed to death before
you would be able to get help."
In Blake's hazy state, he could hear everything being said. First of all,
Marilyn owned a gun? Really? He liked it. Secondly, fuck, he never did
call  911.  His  angel  was  going  to  be  pissed  when  she  realized  there
weren't any police on the way. If he could just get focused enough to
retrieve  his  phone,  he  could  call  911  like  he  should  have  in  the  first
place.
"I went out with you for years. How could you do this? What happened
to  the  guy  I  used  to  know?"  She  never  wavered  from  her  shooter's
stance, the only movement was her gun as she used her hands

for emphasis while talking.
Tyler shrugged his shoulders, "I owed people money. You would never
understand. Why don't you put the gun down? Let's figure this out like
normal people." His hands were out in a placating manner.
Sirens?  Were  those  actually  sirens  she  was  hearing?  Thank  God  the
police were coming!
"After everything you have done to Blake and the brewery, I would be
happy to shoot you. Make a single step toward me and I will lay one
into you. You are going to rot in prison now. All of you. Hopefully, the
police can find proof that you're bootlegging this stuff, too."
Just  then  three  squad  cars  came  flying  through  the  intersection,
slamming  on  their  brakes.  Five  deputies,  including  a  man  dressed  in
plain clothes jumped out of the vehicles, guns drawn.
"Everybody freeze! Hands on your heads. Put your weapon down
lady! Now!"
Yikes! They all did as they were told. Marilyn setting down her weapon
next to her feet. She rose slowly putting her hands atop her head.
"That man needs medical attention!" she screamed. The man in plain
clothes  ran  to  Blake.  She  couldn't  make  out  exactly  what  was  being
said between them with all the commotion going on. An officer came
directly to her first and took her gun and immediately pushed the safety
back on and stood between the gun and her.

Chapter Twenty Two
Just  as  anyone  might  expect  in  this  precarious  situation,  the  officer
asked Marilyn a gazillion questions. The other officers arrested Tyler
and  his  band  of  brothers.  There  was  an  ambulance  on  the  way  for
Blake,  although  according  to  the  plain  clothed  officer  -  Jim,  he  was
refusing medical attention, which was no surprise to Marilyn.
Once  Marilyn's  concealed  weapons  permit  was  verified,  the  nice
officer gave her her three-eighty back - unloaded, of course. She was
able to retrieve her purse while the officers began taking pictures and
dusting for prints. She didn't know, but apparently it was a cut and dry
crime scene. Good thing! That was all they needed was for Tyler to get
off scot-free.
The truck was registered to a man and woman, Amanda and Andrew
Fahler.  He  was  one  of  the  men  that  were  arrested.  It  helped  that  the
truck was partially loaded with the brew from Blake's truck. Marilyn
gladly  supplied  all  of  the  information  about  the  conversation  she
overheard from Tyler at the brewery. She wished she had the foresight
to have recorded him with her cell phone!
According  to  Jim,  it  had  all  made  sense  now  because  Tyler's
fingerprints were all over the lock and keys from the delivery truck's
back door and according to Blake, he was the only one that ever shut
and locked the lock.
Blake realized he had missed that tidbit of information when Jim had
told him about all the sets of fingerprints he had found. When he told
him he found Tyler's prints, he assumed Jim meant all over the truck.
Being since Tyler owned part of the brewery, as well as Blake trusting
him, he never paid attention when Jim told him about Tyler's prints. He
never gave it a second thought.
Now,  Marilyn  was  sitting  with  Blake  up  against  the  hood  of  his
Mercedes while the EMT's checked him out. He had kept up a pretty
good  fight  considering  it  was  four  against  one.  Military  training  did
come in handy when you least expected it. When she made a comment
about it, he didn't feel that way. He felt like he got the shit beat out of

him.  The  EMT's  disagreed.  They  assured  him  that  given  the
circumstances,  he  put  up  a  pretty  good  fight.  They'd  come  across
people in worse conditions. They had insisted he go to the hospital to
get his ribs taped. With Marilyn's insistence, he finally agreed, as long
as he could drive there himself.
Jim assured him that they would get the crime scene straightened out
and his property back to Poudre Hops as soon as they reasonably could.
He preferred it if they would keep the lines of communication open in
case they had any more questions. Otherwise, they were free to
go.
With a small amount of arguing, Marilyn slid into the driver's seat of
Blake's car. Boy, he was a stubborn man!
"Ah, a girl could get used to a ride like this."
She adjusted the rear view mirror, scooted up her seat and was good to
go.
"You can drive it anytime."
He would do anything for her.
"Really?"
"Yeah, really. It's only a car. Besides, you single-handedly saved my
life; it's the least I could do."
"I don't know about saving your life, it was teamwork. We make a good
team." She glanced over at him. He was already watching her. He had a
cut above his left eye and his lower lip was split. Even beat up, he was
delicious-looking. How did she get so lucky to have this man want
her?
He  reached  for  her  hand,  "We  make  a  great  team.  Tell  me,  Marilyn,
how long have you been a gun wielding bad-ass, sexy-as-sin, woman?"
She laughed, "Surprised?"
"Pretty much. Utterly grateful though. You're a pretty good shot." That
was a nice compliment coming from a sharpshooter like himself.
"I go to the shooting range regularly. It's fun and a girl never knows
when  she  might  need  protection.  My  dad  got  me  into  it.  Anyway,  I
always carry. But it's not something I go around telling everyone - it's
concealed for a reason."

He spread his hands out, and winced, "I totally get it. One of the many
reasons I'm in love with you."
He  continued  to  track  her  with  his  gaze.  Watching  to  see  what  her
reaction was. Maybe she wasn't listening to him.
Marilyn kept a steady gaze on the road. She was glad he understood
why she never mentioned she owned a gun. And he loved her anyway.
Wait. Did he just say that he was in love with her? She must be hearing
things. She looked over at Blake who was still staring intently at her.
Her voice wavered, "Did you just say you love me?" she might need to
pull over. She would hate to wreck this fancy-schmancy hybrid he calls
'just a car.'
"Not  exactly.  I  said  I'm  in  love  with  you.  Not  exactly  the  same  as
saying I love you. Do you want to hear me say that?" He reached over
and tucked her wild hair behind her ear.
"I love you Marilyn Monroe Jacobs."
It felt really good to get that out. He kept denying it, tucking it away,
not listening to his heart and the minute he realized Marilyn was in a
bad situation it was as if a light had suddenly turned on. He knew he
loved her and frankly it wasn't as hard to accept once he admitted it. It
felt good to tell her.
They arrived at urgent care before Marilyn could respond. What could
she say? She loved him too. That would be a start. She was afraid it
would sound so...teenager-ish. I love you and are you going to say it?
Oh I love you too. Her mind was reeling with this new information.
While she was pretty much silent, Blake grumbled all the way to the
receptionist desk. They explained what the EMT's had told them and
the woman behind the desk kindly told them someone would call his
name  when  it  was  his  turn.  Thankfully  Urgent  Care  wasn't  packed.
They waited for a short time before his name was called.
"I can wait here."
"No, you're coming with me. You are going to be the one taking care of
me while I heal." He gave her that wicked grin she couldn't resist, "At
least, I hope you will." He held out his hand. Together they walked into
the exam room.

Chapter Twenty Three
Blake had three cracked ribs and had to get six stitches above his eye.
That was the worst of it. He had major bruising along both sets of ribs,
as well as his arms. He had plenty of various cuts as well, otherwise, he
was in decent shape considering. The doctor set up a prescription for
pain medication but Blake insisted he didn't need it. Nor was he going
to fill it.
They were in the car, heading to Blake's place when the reality of what
Tyler had done, really sunk in.
"I  can't  believe  Tyler  thought  he  was  really  going  to  get  away  with
stealing from the brewery and still rake in money as an owner. What a
dick."
Marilyn giggled, "Yeah, what a dick. I never mentioned this before but
that day he stopped into the bookstore, he threatened me. He actually
terrified me. I had a feeling then that something wasn't quite right but I
couldn't figure out what it was."
"Why  didn't  you  tell  me  this  before?"  If  he  knew,  he  would  have
confronted Tyler.
"I knew it would be awkward working with him if you knew any of that
and it's not like you could just quit working with him. I didn't want you
to confront him and make it difficult at the brewery."
She was so frustrating! She worried incessantly about everyone else,
even when it put her own welfare at stake. At the same time, it made
him proud that she was looking out for his well-being. No one ever did
that for him except his military buddies.
"Well,  thank  you,  but  going  forward  let's  figure  things  out  together.
Deal?" he had his hand out. She laced her fingers in between his.
"Deal."
The  entire  evening  at  Blake's,  Marilyn  had  to  field  calls  from  her
parents, James, Amber, Brandi and every other person she knew that
had  her  phone  number.  It  was  the  same  conversation  over  and  over.
Tyler?  Why?  How?  Etcetera.  Blake  had  his  share  of  phone  calls  as
well. Finally, around nine 'o'clock they sat together, exhausted on his
sofa.
"Well, Angel, you made the news," he threw a pillow at her.
Laughing, she threw it back, "Hey, so did you!"

"Yeah,  but  I'm  just  a  boring  guy.  You're  this  amazingly  beautiful
woman  in  this,  well,  dirty,  but  smoking  hot  dress  that  came  to  my
rescue because you're packin' heat," he loved teasing her. His dimples
were peeking out with his full fledged smile.
She gave him a sassy smile.
"It's about time I get out of this dirty thing, don't you think, Blake?" She
stood up and reached behind her neck, untying the strings. She let the
dress fall to the floor, showing Blake her lacy white panties.
God, she killed him.
"You  were  going  to  shoot  a  bunch  of  men  and  you  weren't  even
wearing a bra?"
"Come on, Blake," she gently straddled him on the couch, "A woman
doesn't need undergarments to protect the ones she loves. Besides," her
eyes widened, "I threw panties on at the last minute." She shrugged her
shoulders. She lifted his hands and placed them atop her bare breasts.
"Do  you  think  you  can  make  love  to  me  Blake?  I  need  you
desperately."
She needed him desperately? She was his life-line. He needed her. She
was what he had started to look forward to in the mornings when he
woke  up.  Every  time  he  received  a  text  from  her,  it  brought  about
feelings he had never felt for other women. She was his life-line, - what
he desperately needed. Once again, she was oblivious to the feelings
she created inside him.
He  laid  her  down  onto  the  sofa  and  got  above  her.  "You  are  what  I
desperately  need,  don't  ever  forget  that  okay?  I  tried  telling  myself  I
wasn't falling in love with you but the minute I knew you were in that
truck, it's like my heart was ripped out. I couldn't let anything happen to
you.  I  love  you.  I've  never  told  another  woman  that.  Ever.  I  never
thought  I  would  find  someone  worthy  of  those  words.  But  then  you
came along, like a ray of sunshine knocking me off my feet. Thank you
for that by the way. I had no idea what I was missing."
Marilyn could feel tears streaming down the sides of her face as she
stared up into the glimmering eyes of the man she had fallen in love
with.

"I love you too Blake. I realized I loved you that day we had sex over
the  counter  in  my  bookstore.  I  knew  it  then.  I  was  afraid  to  say  it.  I
didn't want to scare you off. But the way you always look at me, it was
like  seeing  my  own  feelings  reflected  in  your  eyes  and  I  thought,
actually, I hoped, that you felt about me the way I do with you."
He couldn't believe she was in love with him. He didn't feel worthy of
her  love.  Someone  as  smart  and  successful,  as  beautiful  as  Marilyn.
What could she possibly want from a simple guy like him?
"You really love me?"
"Oh come on, you're smart and successful. I love beer, I love the way
you make me feel. I love how you look at me with flirty eyes. And like
I told you that day at the salon, you are the most gorgeous guy I have
ever seen in my entire life. Your dimples, your eyes, the way you walk,
your laugh, your sinful body." Was he really that dense?
At this point, Blake's ribs hurt, but he couldn't take having a hard-on
much longer.
"Let me make love to you," he rose above her and began doing all the
things he knew she loved best.

A month or so later...
After all of the news died down about the brewery, Marilyn decided she
was going to transfer her accounts over to the local credit union. Her
current bank was far more interested in the business they could garner
up from her involvement with the brewery than they were with her as a
customer. She had told Blake about it and he suggested, again, that she
go to the credit union he had worked for and open her accounts there. It
was  a  win-win  for  everyone,  he  insisted.  The  president,  Gage
Alexander, was the previous owner of the brewery and Blake knew him
pretty well. He and Blake had gone into the brewery business together.
He told Marilyn he would call him and set up a time for her to go meet
with him and she could hear firsthand about the financial services the
credit union offered.
Today she was going in to meet him and switch her accounts. Amber
came  with  her  because  afterwards  they  were  heading  over  to  the
shooting range and instead of back-tracking, this made sense.
"Hopefully this won't take too long," Marilyn told Amber.
"I doubt it will." She stopped at the water fountain and took a sip.
Marilyn went to the teller line explaining she had a meeting with Mr.
Alexander.
"I will take you to his office. He is expecting you." She motioned for
Amber to join her.
The teller led the ladies down the hall and to his office, "Mr. Alexander
will be here in just a moment."
His office was a nice size. The furniture was a honey oak color. He had
the standard desk with a computer, telephone - all of the standard office
necessities. In front of his desk, there were two wooden chairs. Marilyn
took the seat farthest from the doorway, while Amber sat in the chair
closest  to  it.  They  did  all  the  little  things  women  do  while  waiting:
checked their phones, their hair, put on lipstick, popped a piece of gum
in their mouths.
"Maybe he's single and Blake can set you up with him. I haven't met
him yet, so I don't know what he looks like," Marilyn whispered.

"Yeah,  well  he  better  be  hot  and  be  well-endowed  before  I  agree  to
something like that," Amber giggled back.
"Sorry  I'm  late.  It  sounds  like  you  ladies  are  making  yourselves
comfortable. Can I get you something to drink before we begin? I have
coffee, tea, water, pop."
Amber would have recognized that voice anywhere. She knew it was
him before she even saw him. She could feel it was him by the tension
he brought into the room bringing her body back to that night all those
years ago. He really was here in Windsor? When she saw him at Agave,
she wondered if he was here on business. But never, did she even think
about him living here, or near here! Let alone working in Windsor at
the local credit union!
"No we're fine. Thank you, though,"  I think, she  mouthed to Amber.
Marilyn looked quizzically at her friend but she couldn't speak. Gage
Alexander made his way to his chair behind the desk, yet to see either
of his clients.
He turned and extended his hand, "How you are? I'm Gage Alexander,
CEO  of  Colorado  Financial  Federal  Credit  Union.  You  must  be
Marilyn Jacobs; Blake has told me a great deal about you."
It wasn't until he spoke to Marilyn, that he saw Amber and recognition
crossed his face. He looked exactly the same as he had all those years
ago. His hair was still dark as the night but now held small sprinklings
of grey. His face showed no signs of aging. Maybe maturity, but still
mysteriously sexy.
Amber's palms were already damp from thinking about having to shake
his hand. Her heart was beating so fast, she thought she might pass-out
from lack of oxygen.
He would recognize her anywhere. In a big city, or in a small town, and
here  she  was  in  the  same  town  he  worked  and  lived.  Not  too  many
things surprised Gage Alexander, but this did. He didn't like surprises.
He held out his hand for Marilyn's friend, "I am Gage Alexander. And
you are?" His eyebrows rose as he introduced himself again.
She struggled to get any words to form. She stuck her limp hand out to
shake his, "Uh, Amber, I'm Amber Prescott. Hi."
Hi? That was all she could think of to say? She wished she could

About the Author
Ashley Bostock was born and raised in Colorado where she currently
resides with her husband, two children, her dog and two cats. She loves
reading, writing, and music and is always trying to find more time in
the  day  to  incorporate  all  three.  Seeking  an  outlet  and  pursuing  her
life-long  passion  for  writing,  she  began  composing  her  first  novel  in
late 2013. She has traveled all over the world, but still has an extensive
list of places she would love to visit. Anywhere near a sky-blue ocean
will always be at the top of that list. She carries a Bachelor's Degree in
History  with  a  concentration  in  Elementary  Education  from
Metropolitan  State  College  of  Denver.  While  she  loves  children,  she
now fears teaching, which probably has something to do with being a
stay-at-home mom.
Read more at Ashley Bostock's site.