Chapter 4

Olistaire

It's Wednesday, and I've been thinking about Grace constantly since I saw her at the flea market on Sunday.

I've never had so much fun obsessing over a female before. This is always the best part—the chase, the conquest, and I have to admit that Grace's resistance to me despite how clear it is that she finds me attractive, is only making me want her more.

I have to get her alone. I need

to speak to her one-on-one, get a proper gauge of what she's thinking and feeling, and not just flirt around the issue in group settings.

Strolling down main street, I soak in the good weather we've been having lately, as I take my lunch break and daydream about the prettiest female in town. I can't be too forward when I approach her. She's just gotten out of a long relationship with noodle-boy and judging by Rhokar's continued overprotective comments about the matter, she's avoiding males altogether. I need to be smooth, casual, and lead into things at a natural pace. She'll just double down on resisting me if I come on too strong.

What I need is a nice, natural setting to accidentally bump into her while she's alone. But how will I orchestrate something like that? Turning up at her home for no reason is a bit much…

I look ahead absentmindedly as I walk and ponder the situation, when my thoughts suddenly still and my feet follow suit. I catch sight of a familiar golden-brown, messy bun pop up from a crouch ahead. Slowly, I feel a smile coming on as my heart does a little tug, tug of excitement at the sight before me. It seems like the Fates are on my side today.

Grace is on her own walk on Main today, taking her son's hand in her own and starting to head down the sidewalk towards me. Perfect.

I slide my hands into the pockets of my suit pants and lean against a streetlamp, my eyes lazily roaming over her as I wait. She's a mother, and this only works in favor for her figure, as far as I'm concerned. The flare of her hips, the curve of her breasts—which look like a solid handful each, and my hands are large—both of these only accentuate the nip of her waistline, and I itch to feel her softness beneath my fingers. She's wearing a simple white T-shirt tucked into her high-waisted ‘mom jeans', and I can't wait for her to turn around so I can see if this is the pair that hugs her plump little ass to perfection, riding up in the middle just so…

"Horsey!" My eyes dart from Grace down to her son, whose excited squeak easily carries over the few yards left between us, as he points at me. "Mommy, look!"

I take my hand out of my pocket and wave.

Grace's brows rise in surprise as she clocks me, but she lets her son drag her over, and I bounce off the lamppost at her approach. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Good afternoon," she says, tucking a few stray locks behind her ear. I like her hair just fine when it's up like this, but she always inevitably lets it down when I appear, I presume to show off how pretty it looks when it tumbles down her back. It's one of the cutest things she does, and I begin mentally counting down the moments. "It's not morning anymore."

"Isn't it?" I ask thoughtfully. "It's hard to keep track, since time stills whenever I see you." She immediately rolls her eyes, which only makes my good humor lift. I know she's dismissive of my corny lines, but I also know she likes them. She smiles every time, and it always reaches her eyes. Just like it does now.

"Oh, my god," she huffs, those pretty blues of hers sparkling with amusement. "Do you have a list of these prepared, just waiting for the right moment to use them?"

"Of course not," I smirk. "The mere sight of you inspires me."

"Good afternoon, horsey!" Lucas says with a little hop, waving his hand in greeting to get my attention.

"Good afternoon, little goblin," I reply, and he immediately bursts into a fit of giggles.

"I'm not a goblin!"

I crouch to his level, and boop his nose. "Well, I'm not a horse. And I know you know that."

His gin immediately turns mischievous as he giggles evilly, doing nothing to take back his nickname. Cheeky little goblin…

"You should come to lunch with me," I tell him, sparing Grace a quick glance but making it clear I'm waiting for Lucas to make the decision. "There's a cafe just down the road with a great kids' play corner."

"Uh, well…" Grace begins, but Lucas pays her no attention.

"Yay, let's go!" He immediately begins jumping up and down, and I scoop him around the waist and prop him between my crouched knees, so I can look up at Grace with his face right beside mine.

"What do you say, Mom?" I ask, as I squish her son's cheek against my face. "Keeping in mind that I have your boy hostage, so you don't actually have a choice in the matter."

"Please, Mom! Please! I'm staa-aarving!"

"You manipulative freaking minotaur…" Grace mutters, her eyes narrowed, but the smile on her lips is only stretching as she stares down at the pair of us. "Don't you have work?"

"I'm on my lunch break."

" PLEASE, MOM. "

"Alright, alright!" Grace throws her hands up in defeat. "Lead the way, horsey."

***

I hold the door of Bitter Sweet open, letting my eyes trace down the back of Grace's curves as she enters ahead, catching on the seam of her denim wedged right between two round curves. Beautiful.

My cock immediately twitches in interest, and I have to look away as I enter behind her. Now is definitely not the time.

The cafe is bustling at this time of the day, as it almost always is, since they have the best coffee and desserts in town. Gold-framed landscapes clutter the walls, glossy wooden tables with worn, plush chairs fill the floor, an extensive play corner brimming with old-fashioned wooden toys and a few brightly spinning fae contraptions sits to the side—and of course, a gleaming glass display of their famous home-made sweet treats that runs long their service bar by the till.

"This place is so nice," Grace murmurs as she looks around. "Why has Ella never brought me here?"

"I guess she doesn't care for you like I do."

She sends me a deadpanned, unimpressed look which I don't believe in the slightest, since her lips are twitching upwards. I grin as I lead us to my favorite table by the window looking out over the street, and we order. I don't mind the midday bustle, as it means I get more time to talk with Grace until the food arrives. We eat lunch, and Lucas finishes in record time before being allowed to rush off to the play corner.

As the waitress clears up our plates, I order us coffees and dessert, and Grace lifts an incredulous eyebrow.

"I repeat, don't you have work?" she asks.

But I wave her concerns away. "What's the fun in owning your own business if you can't take advantage of your time to sit with a beautiful woman on a Wednesday afternoon?"

"Okay," she drawls with another eyeroll, as she tries to suppress her smile, "but surely there are things that need to be done."

"That's what my staff are for."

She sighs and shakes her head, leaning back and finally lifting her hands to take out her bun. "I give up, have it your way."

I watch with a certain amount of anticipation as she lets her hair down. I always look forward to this little ritual of hers. Maybe it's because I know that's she's doing it for me, whether she realizes it or not.

"As long as you don't blame me if you suddenly go into ruin because you weren't at the office today."

As her sandy waves tumble down over her shoulders, glinting gold in the sunlight pouring through the window, I smile.

"You have the loveliest hair," I murmur, reaching over to curl a lock around my finger briefly before moving back again. "It looks like honey in the sunlight."

She pauses, her cheeks tinging pink as she stares at me, the sight of which does interesting things to my body.

"Olistaire…"

"Yes?"

She crosses her arms, lifts her chin, and purses her lips. "I'm not fucking you."

I can't help it. I burst into laughter at her response, which has her pursed lips twitching upwards at the corners.

"Well, alrighty, then!" I prop my elbows on the table as our coffee and cake arrives, and find myself leaning closer to her. "Blunt as an anvil, you are."

"Yuh-huh," she counters sarcastically, "and you're as transparent as a pain of glass."

My grin stretches. "I'm not one to hide my intentions."

"Neither am I."

"Clearly," I mutter, before pushing the slice of red velvet towards her. "You're attracted to me." Her blush deepens, which has me wanting to reach over and touch her again. "And I'm attracted to you. In fact, I think you're the most beautiful female to have ever stepped foot in Whispering Pines."

"I'm going to stop you there," she says, pushing the cake away again as she too leans forward in her chair. "I only just left Brad not even a full week ago. I'm nowhere near ready to jump into another relationship."

"And if I told you I don't need you to make any promises to me?" I ask softly, unable to tear my gaze away from her. "If all I asked for was a little of your time?"

She quirks a brow. "And my body, of course."

I suck in a breath, and feel my heart rate pick up as my gaze drops down along her form. Gods, yes. And your gorgeous body.

"You're beautiful, Grace," I say. Her arms are still crossed, pushing her plump breasts up wonderfully, and it takes me a second longer than I mean to before I can tear my gaze back to her eyes. "I hope you don't think I'm just saying that."

Finally, her smile returns properly, and her arms loosen to her side. "You know, you're actually pretty sweet for being such a sleaze."

"Excuse me…" I mutter with half-hearted affront.

"I like you just fine," she continues, "and I hope to remain friends with you for as long as Ella is married to your best friend. Which I hope is forever, by the way. But I'm not your girl."

Why not? The thought quietly echoes through my mind, which strikes me as an odd thing to think.

"I can't be the kind of woman you're looking for," she says, turning across the cafe to where her son still plays. "I don't want a man at all right now, but even if I did, it would have to be something serious. Casual is just not up my alley."

Disappointment trickles through me. I find myself staring at her for a long moment, even as she continues to watch her son. My eyes trace along the slight upturn of her nose, her delicate jaw, the slim neck beneath the mess of dark gold waves that tumble over her shoulders, and unfortunately, the urge to run my fingers through her hair doesn't dissipate.

She doesn't do casual. Maybe I could…

I shake my thoughts away and lean abruptly back. Maybe I could what? Lock myself into a serious relationship only to get bored, stifled, resentful, and eventually disappoint—or worse, hurt her? No, that's never what I want to do to any female. It's the reason I avoid the scenario entirely.

I let out a soft sigh. "I can't say I'm not disappointed to hear you say that," I tell her, offering a lopsided smile when she turns back to me. "If you ever change your mind, you should know that I won't change mine. In the meantime, your coffee is getting cold."

She grins at me suddenly and leans over to squeeze my hand in hers, before letting go to pick up her cup. "Thanks for not making this awkward. You sure take rejection well."

I snort and it's now my turn to roll my eyes at her. "Fates and above, female… Could you at least try to spare my feelings?"

She chuckles. "Oh, please. A guy as handsome and successful as you, has got his pick of women, you'll get over it in no time."

And can someone please tell me why that small compliment from her has my heart immediately lifting from where it plummeted just seconds ago?

I'm just gearing up to throw her a teasing, exceptionally corny, disgustingly cheesy one liner as payback, when her eyes suddenly widen as she looks across the room. Shock slackens her features, and she drops her coffee cup down with a clatter as anger immediately rides through to bleed across in its place.

"Brad?"