Page 10 of Satisfaction Guaranteed

Words Alana never thought she’d hear from the self proclaimed raging lesbian. The sentence alone makes her shudder, but before she can say anything, Nakita approaches some poor, unsuspecting gentleman browsing the boxer section.

“Nakita! Don’t you dare—” Alana freezes mid-yell, eyes wide. Warmth spreads across her face and neck when the man Nakita taps on the shoulder turns around. Chocolate brown hair, dark eyes, sun-kissed freckles, and a cowboy hat.

Oh. Oh, no.

“Cyrus?” Alana squeaks. Squeaks. Like a goddamn dog toy.

Nakita struts over with him in tow, and when he sees her, that familiar sharp-toothed smile immediately tugs at the corner of his mouth.

Alana screams internally. If there were ever a time for a spontaneous sinkhole to appear and swallow her, it may as well be right now.

“Alana,” Cyrus greets her with a tip of his hat. His gaze travels to the lingerie in her hands, and his smile widens.

“Oh? You two know each other?” Nakita asks.

She leans on one of Alana’s shoulders, and Lilith leans on the other, grinning like a shark. It feels like she has the devil in one ear and a fallen angel in the other.

“Um, sort of. He’s one of the regulars at my shop.” Alana stutters. This entire store is suddenly far too hot. Why was it so hot?

Cyrus chuckles and nods in affirmation. “Practically live there, if I’m bein’ honest. Best baked goods this side of the state. Can’t go more than a day without ‘em.”

“Oh my goodness, right? She brings us goody bags whenever she can, and I swear the raspberry tarts are to die for!” Lilith says. Her voice is bright with glee, and Alana would appreciate it if she didn’t feel like she was going to combust. “So, are you shopping for anyone special?”

Alana shoots her friend a glare that gets blatantly ignored. She’s mentioned Cyrus a handful of times since meeting the pair; they know him as the cutie with the nice ass who tips well, but have never been able to put a face with the name. Now that they have, Alana makes a mental note to make their next stop somewhere she can get a passport photo taken. She’ll need to split town. She’s never going to hear the end of this if she doesn’t.

Thankfully, if the little interrogation puts Cyrus off, he doesn’t let it show. He simply laughs as if he enjoys the attention. “Not quite. Just here for the essentials.” He holds up a multi-pack of black boxer briefs, a glimmer of mirth flickering behind his eyes.

Alana lifts a brow. It’s peculiar to buy that kind of thing at a lingerie store, of all places. But then she ghosts across the other items in his basket and catches sight of the telltale logo of a box of (XL) condoms reflected in the light. Oh, well, now that makes more sense. Swallowing, Alana’s mouth fills with cotton.

“Aw, cute! I’m sure your wife thinks those are hot.” Lilith teases.

“Afraid I don’t quite have one of those,” Cyrus humors.

“Girlfriend?” Nakita cocks her head to the side, stealing the very question she knows Alana is too chicken-shit to ask herself. A subtle red tints his cheeks, and he rubs the back of his neck. “Don’t have one of those either.” His attention shifts to Alana. “Unfortunately.”

High-pitched, girlish yelling rattles from deep within Alana’s mind. She can feel both Nakita and Lilith’s grins broaden from beside her, as if hearing her inner panic like some kind of emotional bloodhounds.

“Damn, that’s crazy. But, hey, it means you can help a sister out.” Nakita snatches the lingerie from Alana’s hands and holds it beside the far skimpier selection she had chosen. “Our friend here is in a bit of a dilemma. See, she has a hot date, and we’re trying to decide which look would give the best first impression. Which of these do you like better?”

If looks could kill, Nakita would drop like a rag doll. Alana’s head whips towards her so fast her neck about cracks, and she fights the urge to physically cover her mouth to get her to stop speaking. “Nakita! Don’t bother him with that, he doesn’t—”

“Well,” Cyrus interrupts, silencing Alana before she could continue arguing at his expense. He eyes both options with his brows knitted together in devout concentration, looking between them and Alana a few times. His gaze holds intense, observant. Like he’s studying her. “If you’re lookin’ for one humble man’s opinion, I’d say this one.” He points to the blue set. “I appreciate having something that leaves a little to the imagination. It gets you excited to see more. Although, if I’m being quite honest, Miss Alana,” he trails off with a deep, rumbling chuckle that threatens to send her to her knees. Heat floods her chest, trickling down into a full-body flush. “I’d say you’d look mighty fine in any direction. That date of yours had better count his blessings.”

Alana swears she sees gold flicker past the dark brown of his eyes. She ignores it, though, her mind racing far too quickly. All she can do is stutter out a pathetic “Thank you” and resist the urge to hide her face in her hands.

Cyrus flashes a smirk, his eyes lingering, and offers a small nod. “Anytime, Darlin’. Anytime.” He winks before turning to Nakita and Lilith, where he offers the same polite tip of his hat. “Pleasure meeting you two. Hope to see you around. If you’ll excuse me, I’m runnin’ a bit behind on an appointment. But I’ll be seeing you at the bakery, Miss Alana.” He waves goodbye, and all Alana can do is wave awkwardly back as she remains sandwiched between her friends.

After Cyrus has checked out and leaves the store, Alana falls into the two vampires, nearly taking them all to the floor. “I hate you guys so fucking much,” she groans. They have the nerve to cackle, hugging her tight.

“We love you too.” Lilith teases. “I mean, hey, that was hot! He was totally into it. Besides, it’s not bad to keep your options open, right?” She nudges the poor woman in the side with her elbow, beaming while she leads her to the checkout.

Alana huffs a quiet laugh through her nose and grabs her card to pay. Options? Gods, that’s a thought. If Cyrus doesn’t have a girlfriend, that means the blonde girl she saw him with has no claim. And if she has no claim, what’s stopping Alana from bringing her goals to fruition? Of taking what she wants?

Maybe after this whole sexcapade thing is over with, she’ll shoot her shot.

CHAPTER SEVEN

ALANA