crayons. Leaning closer, Thessaly inhales his intoxicating scent of sea salt and musky masculinity while trying to form a smile. Her eyes wander, from his perfect teeth, to his snug-fitting T-shirt, and then back to stare into the deep waters of his blue eyes. And he does the same – mentally checking off the amazing qualities of the slender blonde blocking the doorway.
“I’m melting,” he declares quietly.
So am I , thinks Thessaly.
In a swift motion, he brings his other hand between them, shaking it gently, and then raising it to his lips. Thessaly watches with delight . . . gazing as his mouth swipes his thumb . . . fantasizing as his tongue circles a scoop of soft, pink ice cream . . . dissolving as he takes a tiny bite, not with his teeth, but by pinching the ice cream between his lips. Eventually, the sugar cone completely disappears inside the grasp of his large hand, making the action even more sensual – a necessary tactic in which the mouth just takes what it wants.
“Shall we?” he asks, nodding toward the door.
Blushing, Thessaly bobs her head robotically as she walks through the vestibule. Leaving him to roam the shelves of blueberry jam, she bolts straight to the counter and exhales deeply.
Behind the register, Meg looks up from her iPad and smiles. “Tess? You’re flushed. Humidity is not your friend.” She returns her attention to the tablet and adds, “Lois had a family emergency – she left about an hour ago.”
Placing the envelope of labels and her polka-dotted clutch on the counter, Thessaly asks, “Is everything okay with Lois? I’m concerned.”
“I’m not sure, but she seemed really stressed.” With a devious smile, Meg strikes the screen of the tablet violently. “God, that Seth,” she mumbles. “He’s the most annoying child sometimes.”
“What’s up?” Thessaly asks, watching as the man with the ice cream cone picks up a jar of infused honey and holds it to the sunlight.
“He wants lunch and company. Do you need me here?” Meg snaps her fingers in the air and quips, “Earth to Tess?”
Thessaly pivots so that she’s face-to-face with Meg. The two women are pressed closely against each other, an image Seth would kill to see. “Look over my shoulder – discreetly!” she demands through an excited whisper.
Meg leans to the left and surveys the showroom. “Gray T-shirt?” she asks.
Thessaly nods.
“Da-yum!”
“What’s he doing?” whispers Thessaly.
“He’s carrying a shopping basket.” Meg pauses and lowers her voice. “He just placed a jar of jam – apricot, no peach – inside the basket. Nice forearms.” Another pause. “Okay, that’s hot, Tess, really sexy.” Meg’s eyes expand as her volume returns. “Holy hotness, he devoured a sugar cone in two bites. Shit!” Meg ducks behind Thessaly. “He’s looking over here!”
Leaving her friend exposed, Meg darts into the kitchen, the door flapping behind her from the hard push. Thessaly takes a deep breath and then spins around.
Bold, Tess, be bold, she chants .
“Hi. Is this your store?” He places a basket filled with random items on the counter and picks up a petri dish near the register.
“That’s raw honeycomb,” Thessaly asserts.
Placing the delicate object back in its place, the man leans against the counter and smiles. “I’m familiar.” His mouth curls slightly to the left, just enough to make him appear naughty. “Let’s start over. I’m Levi, and you must be Tessaly, or Shelby?”
Confused by Levi’s assumptions, Thessaly hesitates before replying. “It’s actually pronounced Thes-sa-lee, but everyone calls me Tess. My little brother is Shelby – how did you know our names?”
Raising his eyebrows and pointing over his shoulder to a family photograph, Levi adds, “That’s you, right – in the overalls and Doc Martens?”
Thessaly quietly whimpers as she realizes that the picture Levi’s referring to was taken during the unattractive phase of her
“I’m melting,” he declares quietly.
So am I , thinks Thessaly.
In a swift motion, he brings his other hand between them, shaking it gently, and then raising it to his lips. Thessaly watches with delight . . . gazing as his mouth swipes his thumb . . . fantasizing as his tongue circles a scoop of soft, pink ice cream . . . dissolving as he takes a tiny bite, not with his teeth, but by pinching the ice cream between his lips. Eventually, the sugar cone completely disappears inside the grasp of his large hand, making the action even more sensual – a necessary tactic in which the mouth just takes what it wants.
“Shall we?” he asks, nodding toward the door.
Blushing, Thessaly bobs her head robotically as she walks through the vestibule. Leaving him to roam the shelves of blueberry jam, she bolts straight to the counter and exhales deeply.
Behind the register, Meg looks up from her iPad and smiles. “Tess? You’re flushed. Humidity is not your friend.” She returns her attention to the tablet and adds, “Lois had a family emergency – she left about an hour ago.”
Placing the envelope of labels and her polka-dotted clutch on the counter, Thessaly asks, “Is everything okay with Lois? I’m concerned.”
“I’m not sure, but she seemed really stressed.” With a devious smile, Meg strikes the screen of the tablet violently. “God, that Seth,” she mumbles. “He’s the most annoying child sometimes.”
“What’s up?” Thessaly asks, watching as the man with the ice cream cone picks up a jar of infused honey and holds it to the sunlight.
“He wants lunch and company. Do you need me here?” Meg snaps her fingers in the air and quips, “Earth to Tess?”
Thessaly pivots so that she’s face-to-face with Meg. The two women are pressed closely against each other, an image Seth would kill to see. “Look over my shoulder – discreetly!” she demands through an excited whisper.
Meg leans to the left and surveys the showroom. “Gray T-shirt?” she asks.
Thessaly nods.
“Da-yum!”
“What’s he doing?” whispers Thessaly.
“He’s carrying a shopping basket.” Meg pauses and lowers her voice. “He just placed a jar of jam – apricot, no peach – inside the basket. Nice forearms.” Another pause. “Okay, that’s hot, Tess, really sexy.” Meg’s eyes expand as her volume returns. “Holy hotness, he devoured a sugar cone in two bites. Shit!” Meg ducks behind Thessaly. “He’s looking over here!”
Leaving her friend exposed, Meg darts into the kitchen, the door flapping behind her from the hard push. Thessaly takes a deep breath and then spins around.
Bold, Tess, be bold, she chants .
“Hi. Is this your store?” He places a basket filled with random items on the counter and picks up a petri dish near the register.
“That’s raw honeycomb,” Thessaly asserts.
Placing the delicate object back in its place, the man leans against the counter and smiles. “I’m familiar.” His mouth curls slightly to the left, just enough to make him appear naughty. “Let’s start over. I’m Levi, and you must be Tessaly, or Shelby?”
Confused by Levi’s assumptions, Thessaly hesitates before replying. “It’s actually pronounced Thes-sa-lee, but everyone calls me Tess. My little brother is Shelby – how did you know our names?”
Raising his eyebrows and pointing over his shoulder to a family photograph, Levi adds, “That’s you, right – in the overalls and Doc Martens?”
Thessaly quietly whimpers as she realizes that the picture Levi’s referring to was taken during the unattractive phase of her
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