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As much as it twanged the heart, she had to admit, maybe her mom was right and all she needed was a few days back home to help her find her voice again.
Genevieve slowed for a red light. From her right, a glint of sunlight on something shiny caught her eye.
“You’re fucking kidding me!” She leaned over the steering wheel for a better look. Venus Vibrators stood out in bold metalliclettering against worn red brick on what used to be Pinegrove’s newspaper building. “You finally did it. Venus, you kick-ass chic, you. You finally opened your sex shop.” Shaking her head, she chuckled, grabbed her phone and snapped a quick picture to the sound of a few horns from behind her. While all she talked about growing up was writing, her best friend through grade school and up could only talk about the perfect wedding dress and happy-ever-afters. Somewhere along the road, those happily-ever-afters turned into vibrators, dildos, butt plugs and cherry-flavored panties.
Horns blared from behind.
“Yeah, yeah!”
She tossed the phone in the passenger seat and gave a quick wave to the traffic quickly backing up behind her.
One of the town’s best bakeries came into view a few blocks down. Pie in the Sky was the go-to for hot cocoa in the winter and cherry poppers in the summer. She chuckled at the Mason’s wicked sense of humor. Speaking of, the aging couple were already out and about setting up their summer terrace on the wide sidewalk for tourists and locals alike to enjoy the cool mountain air. And their cherry poppers, Genevieve noticed.
Hmm. Maybe asmallchange in her game plan wouldn’t hurt.
Five minutes later she pulled out of the drive-thru, a sticky bun in one hand and two coffees in a cup holder. Dad preferred his herbal tea, but her mom would appreciate the tall double espresso.
The moment the sugary goodness touched her lips, a doughnut-induced daze set in. “Almost better than sex.”
CHAPTER TWO
The sugar on her tongue tasted so sweet she couldn’t stop the loud groan as she rolled to another stop at yet another red light. Sinking her teeth in for another bite, she caught the lingering eye of a biker to her left.
He winked and blew her a kiss before revving the motor and pulling away.
Men.
Alone again, right then and there she vowed if she somehow managed to nail this crazy tight deadline, she would come back and binge on all the sinful concoctions she passed over as a reward.
She’d lost a little time with her pitstop but figured less than ten minutes to her parents’ flower shop, another fifteen to work through thewhen are you getting married, Genevieveconversation her mom insisted on and the flood of hugs and kisses. Five to snag a refill for her coffee and five to crank open her laptop.
That left her a little under two hours before her editor hit up her cell phone with the scheduled check-in call to see how her piece on who knows what was coming along.
She took another bite of the fresh, warm pastry and possibly moaned a little too loud.
A tiny whimper piped up from the back seat.
Genevieve smirked and canted her head to peak at the other half of the ultimatum she hadn’t mentioned to her mom.
That extra forty-eight hours she’d wiggled out of her editor came with a catch. And a leash. While her editor took a spa break with her bestie, Genevieve got to dog sit the new pup gifted to her editor from an appreciative coffee shop owner for the flattering review.
She looked at her doughnut. Hey, maybe she’d be a good fit as a food critic. Hmm. That’s an idea. She could be one of those chicks who took naked selfies with food and posted it on Instagram.
She spied the backseat at the sound of another tiny whimper. “Don’t blame me, little man. I’m not the one that suggested this little weekend getaway for you.” Large brown eyes stared back at her from the cutest puppy face. “You can try, but I am butter proof. Those puppy dog eyes won’t work on me. No doughnut for you, mister.”
She lied. Those eyes totally melted her. She broke off a piece and slipped it to her tiny companion. “Don’t tell your mom, okay. Our secret, buddy.”
Genevieve waved her half-eaten doughnut in the air. “You make it so hard to be mad. We’re almost there. Can you hold for fiveand then you can have another potty break?” A three-hour drive from New York City to Pinegrove had to be torture on a guy that small.
As if he understood, the tubby pug bounded from one side of the car to the other, stopping only long enough to lick the window and then do it all over again. He suffered from a serious case of lick-a-nitis. Nothing nor no one was safe from the blubbery pug’s affection.
She stole another glance. Maybe she should pull over and put the little guy back in his crate, but after hours on the road, he could use a good stretching of the legs. Her too, but she could do that after typing those two magic words—the end.
Or, and man did she hate where her mind took a dark turn, the vacation she’d done without for the last three years might be in her near future after all. The permanent variety accompanied by a freshly inked pink slip and one of those flimsy cardboard boxes with all her office belongings stuffed inside.
She rolled her eyes at her own drama.
A couple of more turns and another red light and Genevieve squeezed her old-timer between a Cadillac she hadn’t seen before and a modern sedan she recognized as her dad’s.
