Either way, it didn’t matter. Beau wouldn’t be sleeping at home tonight, and despite Al’s encouragement, Houston wouldn’t bother asking Gemma for a date. Tipping his mug back, he drained the cold brew in two big gulps before tossing some money on the bar and strolling back out the door.
As Houston headed down the sidewalk toward his truck, a strange sound came from the darkened alcove of Budding Memories Florist and Taxidermy store in front of him. As he slowed his stride, the unmistakable sound of a woman’s moan floated in the air.
Everybody’s getting lucky tonight except me, he inwardly groused.
Pausing, he cautiously poked his head around the corner of the store, peered into the darkness, and blinked.
“God, I’ve missed you baby…missed kissing and touching you like this,” growled local mechanic Cletus Clark as he cupped a wide, grease-stained hand over Tootamae O’Neil’s—owner of Toot’s Café ‘s—ample breast.
“Not as much as I’ve missed you,” she breathlessly panted.
“Soon, baby. Soon we’ll be together forever,” Cletus vowed before crashing his lips over hers.
Evidently the rumors are true.
Not long ago, the gossip guild was buzzing about Cletus filing for divorce after catching his wife, Lurlene naked on their couch, fucking the brains out of some traveling seed salesman. Word on the street was that Lurlene wanted to reconcile and was dragging her feet about signing the divorce papers. But Cletus and Toots had already hooked up, fallen madly in love, and were counting the days until he was free of his cheating wife.
Whatever…it was all too much drama for Houston. Still, he didn’t want to interrupt their little face-sucking, tit-groping rendezvous and embarrass them and himself. Easing from the edge of the building, he backed up several steps, then loudly cleared his throat.
“Shhh, someone’s coming,” Toots whispered.
Biting back a grin, Houston completely ignored the couple as he strolled past and slid in behind the wheel of his truck.