“The whipped cream is looking a little sad.” She dragged her finger through the deflated cream on top of the once spongy, now soggy angel food cake.

  “Have you got any Kahlua?” Charlie asked.

  “I think that Jimmy left some liqueurs in the cabinet. He told me to drink them.” She opened the leaded glass cabinet and pulled out a bottle of Kahlua. “Got some!”

  She handed the bottle to Charlie who had already added the leftover heavy whipping cream to the stand mixer on the counter. “I’m surprised he keeps this stuff in his house. He hasn’t drunk for years,” Charlie grunted as he twisted off the top of the dark bottle.

  “I guess there are no secrets in this town.” She shook her head. The reality of small-town life was truly setting in. At that moment, she realized that she could never go to the grocery store and be anonymous, there would always be someone who knew her story. She wasn’t sure whether she loved or hated the idea of it all.

  Charlie seemed to pick up on her contemplation. “It’s not that bad. Remember, I’m the bartender. If anyone knows the dirty secrets of all the Rapidians, it’s me. Now, do you have any sugar?”

  “Rapidians?” Emma reached over Charlie’s shoulder and pulled out a crystal sugar dish, complete with tiny silver spoon. “Will this be enough?”

  Charlie’s fingertips touched hers as he took the sugar and heat shot from her fingertip right to her toes. “Should be.” He turned on the mixer and slowly poured the sugar into the whipping cream. Over the whirring of the mixer, he said, “Locals, that’s what we call them, Rapidians.”

  “So, you’re a Rapidian?” she asked.

  Charlie laughed and put his hand on his belly. “Maybe I am now, but the real Rapidians would scoff at that. I moved here to be a ski bum. I grew up in Ridgeway.

  Emma wanted to ask him more, but at the mention of Ridgeway, the hair on the back of her neck stood up. Adam was from Ridgeway too. She cleared her throat, “How long have you lived here?” she asked.

  Charlie sped up the machine and drizzled the Kahlua into the mixer. The sugary smell was divine. “Feels like forever.” He stopped the mixer and dipped his finger into the whipped cream and turned to face Emma. He pulled her towards him with his free hand, her hips pressing against his as he leaned against the counter. “Have you ever had whipped cream with Kahlua?” There was a glint in his eye, and he held the off-white puff of cream to her lips.

  “I haven’t,” she whispered. Torn between sucking the whipped cream off Charlie’s finger or just bypassing it and going straight to his lips. He made the decision for her and slipped his index finger into her mouth, his thumb on her jawline. The sweetness of the liqueur and the silkiness of the whipped cream melted in her mouth and she wanted more. More cream, more Charlie. She sucked on his finger and gazed up at him and saw a smile on his face.

  “Do you like it?” He withdrew his finger from her lips and sucked on it.

  Emma leaned against him, stretching her arm past his side to dip her finger into the bowl. “It’s the best thing I’ve ever tasted.” She let Charlie suck the whipped cream off her finger, and the warmth that rushed between her hipbones and between her legs told her that taking it slow with this man was no longer an option.

  “Charlie?” She was breathless. She pulled her finger from the warmth of his mouth and replaced it with her lips. He kissed her, then picked her up as if she weighed nothing and set her down on the terra cotta tiled kitchen island.

  “Yes?” His lips were so close she could feel the breath from his words on hers.

  They were both breathing heavily, and she kissed him again, speaking with her lips touching his, his beard tickling her skin. “It would be a shame to put that whipped cream on that soggy cake.” She undid the tie on her robe and shrugged the silky fabric off her shoulders.

  His beard tickled her cheek, then her neck. Goosebumps erupted over her entire body when the heat of his breath and the gentle brush of his whiskers swept across her chest, just above the neckline of her tank top. She writhed on the counter, loving the teasing, but part of her, the wild part of her wanted him to rip off her pyjama pants and let her feel his breath between her legs.

  Charlie’s lips didn’t leave her chest while he flailed his arm behind him, his fingers grabbing onto the metal bowl. He slipped one strap of the tank over her pale shoulder, kissing the space it had occupied, and then did the same with the other strap. He trailed his fingers along the neckline of the tank top and Emma pushed her chest towards him, urging him to rip it off. He grabbed onto the shirt with his thick fingers and pulled it down, exposing her pink nipples to the cool air of the kitchen, lit only by the light over of the stove. Emma didn’t have big boobs, a fact that Adam had never let her forget. He had even suggested foregoing their honeymoon so that she could get a boob job. But Charlie’s eyes lit up as he cupped her breasts in his palm and Emma arched her neck, letting the towel fall from her head, her wet hair pooling on the island behind her. A gasp escaped her lips when the warmth of his lips met her nipple and the tickle of his beard scratched at the pale skin around it. She ran her fingers through Charlie’s hair as he nipped at her chest, but when an unfamiliar cool sensation met her bare and puckered nipple, she opened her eyes. The silky coolness against her skin was like nothing she’d ever felt before. Her left breast was still in between Charlie’s lips, but her right was covered in the Kahlua cream. She let out a happy sigh and gazed down at Charlie’s long lashes, his palm replacing his lips as he moved from her left to her right side. His blue eyes met hers through the dark curtain of his lashes as he licked a trail through the cream. Emma shuddered with the opposing cool and warm sensations and arched her chest closer to him, silently urging him to continue. He dragged his thumb through the cream, and she sucked in a breath as his tongue swept her chest clean, leaving behind nothing but goosebumps. When he finished, he stood and her fingertips fell from their loose entanglement in his hair, and when he kissed her, all she could taste was sweetness and desire.

  She crossed her arms and pulled the tank top over her head, letting it fall to the tile floor, and slid to the edge of the counter, closer to Charlie, her body pushing his back as her feet dropped to the floor. She put her hand on his chest and nudged him backward. It only took two steps for his lower back to hit the edge of the counter in front of the sink. Emma pressed her bare chest into his abs and her belly pressed into the towel where his massive hard-on was practically ripping through the terry cloth. “Your turn,” she whispered into his mouth and swore that the towel twitched against her. She tucked the mixing bowl into the crook of her arm and dropped to her knees onto the rag rug while she tugged at the side of the towel with her free hand. The tight knot released, and the towel slipped silently to the floor. Released from its constraints, Charlie’s cock barely missed Emma’s chin on its way to slapping his rock-hard V-shaped lower abs.

  From Emma’s very recent experience, she knew that the heat from her tongue followed by the cool of the whipped cream had made her knees weak. She stole this formula and took Charlie in her mouth, as much of him as she could manage. Her earlier estimations about his size weren’t exactly wrong, but he was even bigger than she had imagined. While he was in her throat, she dipped her fingertips in the bowl, and then dragged lines of whipped cream where her lips had just been. Just as she had, Charlie moaned with the sensation, his thighs twitching against her shoulders and she didn’t waste any time, licking it off, devouring the sweetness, and savouring Charlie’s manhood until his legs were shaking like the maple leaves battering the single-paned windows from outside.

  “Oh God, Emma.” He moaned. “I’m going to, I’m going to…”

  He came before he could stammer out the rest of his sentence. He was still breathing hard and fast as he helped Emma to her feet, and before she knew what was happening, she was swept off her feet and carried honeymoon style into her bedroom.

  They didn’t fall asleep until the bowl of whipped cream was literally licked clean.

  Sometime over the night, the rain must have stopped, and Emma woke to the sun shining through the thin white curtains. The first thing she spotted was the empty mixing bowl. She smiled and turned, hoping to nuzzle into Charlie’s underarm for a few minutes before they had to get up and get to work, but she was met with an empty bed. “Charlie?” She untangled the sheet and wrapped it around her body, clutching it to her chest as she made her way through the house. “Charlie?” The bathroom door was open, and her heart sank when she looked to the entryway and saw that his boots were gone.

  Seven

  Charlie took the stairs two at a time, careful not to let the tray of coffee tip as he rushed to get back to Emma. He was the best kind of tired, groggy from lack of sleep, and full of adrenaline from the touch of a new woman. The first woman he could imagine waking up next to every single day – if she stayed. He reminded himself not to get too excited.

  He knocked lightly on the door and stepped inside. When he had left, the sun had just risen, and Emma was breathing softly, twisted in the messy tangle of sheets. Now, she was sitting up, holding the quilt to her chest.

  “Em.” He smiled and set down the tray of drinks on the table.

  She didn’t respond right away and that’s when he saw that her eyes were rimmed in red. “Emma,” he rushed to the bed. “Are you okay?”

  She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and he inhaled her scent, filling himself back up, it was a smell he never wanted to be without. He pressed his palm firmly on her back. She whispered into his ear, “I thought you left.”

  “You didn’t get my note?” He pulled away and wiped the dampness from her cheek with his thumb.

  “Note?”

  “I left it on the pillow.”

  Emma shook her head. “I didn’t see a note.”

  Charlie stretched to the top of the bed and shook the pillow. He peered over the edge and saw that the piece of yellow paper had fallen into the space between the mattress and the bedframe. “Here,” he plucked it from its hiding place and handed it to her. He watched her eyes as they tracked over the paper, reading his barely legible chicken scratches.

  “I’m sorry, Charlie. I feel ridiculous right now.”

  Charlie tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear. “It’s totally understandable.” He was touched, she truly cared about him, but he also felt terrible for letting her think that he had pulled a midnight runner on her. “Emma,” he said as he took her hand in his, the note still clutched in her fingers, crumpled as he squeezed her hands. “Last night meant something to me. Like, really meant something.”

  “It meant something for me too,” she sniffed, her face growing brighter, her eyes getting sparklier by the second. “I just… I’ve been through a lot lately…” she hesitated. “I’m sorry for jumping to conclusions.” It seemed like she wanted to say more, to explain, but Charlie didn’t prod. They had plenty of time to get to know each other.

  Instead of speaking, he smiled and kissed her slowly, letting their lips linger longer, allowing his lips and touch to tell her more than any words that he could’ve spoken.

  She pulled away and pointed to the shopping bag on the kitchen island. “More whipped cream?” She bit her lip and hooked her fingers into the waistband of his pants.

  “Easy tigress,” he laughed. “I’m going to make you some crepes.”

  “Oh,” she looked disappointed.

  “If there’s some left over, I’m sure we can find a use for it,” he added.

  “How the heck did you get groceries at this time of day?” she glanced to the clock. It was seven thirty in the morning.

  “Megan at the Sugar Peaks café gave it to me,” he smiled. “The perks to knowing everyone in town, we all help each other out. God knows I’ve given Freddie enough beer from the back door of the tavern.” He hopped up from the bed and grabbed the coffee tray, handing her a cup. “I didn’t know what you took in it, so it’s black.”

  “That’s how I take it,” she smiled and took a sip.

  “You relax and let me spoil you,” he said.

  “Not a chance.” She dropped the sheet, exposing her bare chest. He loved the fact that she wasn’t bashful or shy around him. It was something he found ridiculous, that women would hide their bodies in the daylight after he had already seen or felt every inch of them. She pulled on her tank top and cute striped pajamas, “Let me help you.” She fixed her hair into a ponytail.

  Watching her, Charlie knew that he was falling fast and falling hard. If he needed to put a stop to this relationship, he needed to now, or yesterday, otherwise he was going to barrel on full steam ahead. There was going to be no stopping him. “I have an idea,” he said.

  “What?” she paused doing up the drawstring on her pants.

  “Let’s have breakfast at my house.”

  “Okay,” Emma said. “Sure. Just give me a second to put on real clothes.”

  If Emma was going to go running for the hills, showing her the way he lived would just accelerate the process. He needed to see her reaction to his lifestyle because it wasn’t going to change. Emma slid into a pair of skinny jeans, a pale pink lace bra and white T-shirt. “I’ll just brush my teeth and then I’m ready to go.”

  Charlie couldn’t believe it. She had just gotten ready in less than two minutes flat.

  “How far is it?” she asked.

  “Far enough that you probably don’t want to double on the handlebars of my bike,” he laughed.

  She grabbed her keys from a pottery bowl, “Let’s take my car then.”

  Charlie gathered up the shopping bag with the whipped cream and strawberries and sipped his coffee as he followed Emma out the door.

  * * *

  “Turn here,” Charlie said.

  “Into the bush?” Emma squinted and slowed down the car.

  “There, see the opening?” Charlie pointed to the opening in the trees that was completely obvious to him but realized to the untrained eye it wouldn’t look like more than a walking trail – if that.

  “This isn’t a couple minutes out of town.” Emma muttered, but followed Charlie’s instructions and eased the car onto the trail.

  Emma and Charlie jostled around in their seats as Emma navigated down the trail and through the field. “And I don’t think that I’d call this a road.” She squinted ahead at the two worn down tracks that snaked through the meadow to Charlie’s house.

  “Take the left fork.” Charlie laughed when Emma put on her blinker.

  “Habit,” she flicked off the indicator and her cheeks flushed pink. They turned east just as the morning sun rose over the towering pine trees, shining through the morning dew on the grassy field. “Oh wow,” she murmured. “It’s beautiful.”

  “It is,” Charlie said, but he was looking at the driver, not at the field. “It’s just ahead.” Here it was, the moment of truth.

  Emma stopped the car in front of his tiny home, a small rectangle with a loft, built onto a horse trailer platform. “What… is this?”

  “It’s my house.” Charlie clicked out of his seatbelt and hopped out of the car. Emma followed suit but remained behind the car. She pulled off her sunglasses and squinted, leaning her elbows onto the roof as she studied his home. Charlie tried to read her face, but his stomach clenched into a knot when he couldn’t.

  “It’s…” she paused. “Small.”

  “Technically, the term is tiny.”

  She walked around the front of her car and Charlie tried to see his house through her eyes. Like the still-unnamed brewpub, his tiny home was half-finished. It was wrapped in construction paper, and for now, he only had a piece of plywood for a door that he had to screw on and off every time he came and went. “I’ve heard of these,” she murmured. “But I’ve never seen one.”

  “Would you like a tour?” Charlie gestured to the front door with a flourish he hoped would hide his trembling hands.

  She grinned, “Only if it’s quick.” She gave him an exaggerated wink.

  He laughed and hooked his arm around her neck and pulled her in to kiss the top of her head. “I’ll try to keep it brief,” he laughed. He pulled his drill from underneath the temporary stairs and unscrewed the plywood door. “I would say ladies first, but I think I’m going to need to give you a hand to get in.”

  He hoisted himself into the doorway, the stairs were more ladder-like than stair-like, and then turned to pull Emma in by her hand.

  “Oh, Charlie,” she gasped as he pulled her into the house. “It’s beautiful.”

  Each component in the tiny home had been carefully designed with space maximization in mind – function over form for the most part, but there were a few extravagances, the fine woodwork had been done by Josh and his favorite part of his house was the spiral staircase of live edge wood triangles that led to his sleeping loft.

  “Thanks,” he smiled, but wondered if she was just being kind.

  “This is the kitchen,” he patted the counter and then took a step to the left. “This is the living room,” he gestured with his arm. “The bathroom is tucked in behind there.” He slid a pocket door back to reveal the bathroom complete with a shower. He pointed to the loft, “And that is where the…” his voice trailed off.

  “Magic happens?” she smiled.

  “I’m used to giving the tour to guys,” he chuckled. “Can I get you a drink?” He opened the fridge and pushed around some samples of his beer.

  “I could go for another coffee.”

  “You got it.” Charlie tossed a tea towel over his shoulder and lit the propane burner on the stove.

  “What can I do?” Emma stepped behind Charlie and hugged him from behind. His heart skipped a beat, she hadn’t run screaming. He patted her hand. You just relax. Maybe pick out some music?” He flicked on the Bluetooth speaker.

  Emma paired her phone to the speaker and Charlie couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face as he watched her scroll through the music on her phone. “Do you have any requests?” she asked without looking up.