The Trouble With Falling

“You’re going to do great, sweets. You have to know that. Everyone in town is ready to line up and buy everything that you put out. There will be nothing but crumbs left.”

I smile, nodding my thanks as I shove the last of my pizza in my mouth. Eli does the same and wipes his hands on a napkin before he follows me back out front and we grab our painting supplies again.

We’re quiet for a few minutes as we start applying a second coat of paint to the walls. I had the fans going all night to make sure the walls were dried for today.

“I never asked, but why are you so against dating and relationships, and girlfriends and all that?”

Eli’s brush strokes pause and he seems to get lost in thought for just a minute. I let him think, not wanting to press in case it’s a sensitive subject.

I have a feeling that I know, or that I know at least part of his reason why he doesn’t date. He had seemed pretty down when I had said something about his height and I noticed how he seemed to flinch when I brought it up.

I think his height is a little sexy, if I’m being honest. Who doesn’t love a strong, tall, dark, and handsome outdoorsy man?

“It always seemed weird to date here. I mean, it’s a small town and we all grew up together. For the most part, anyway. It’s almost a little incestuous since everyone has dated everyone else. Problem of living in a small town, I guess.”

“I never thought of that, but yeah, it must be hard to find someone that doesn’t have a connection to one of your friends or something.”

“Being six feet seven doesn’t help either. Who wants to date the giant?” he tries to joke but I can hear the hurt in his voice.

“I would. You know what girls would say about you?” I ask.

Eli shakes his head, his eyes wide and curious as he pauses his painting and studies me. There’s something almost vulnerable in the glint of his eyes, and I swallow before I answer him.

“They’d say that they wanted to climb you like a tree,” I inform him with a small laugh.

Eli’s eyes are wide and I notice a slight pink tinge creeping across his cheeks.

“I bet there are a bunch of other women in town who would love to be with you too. Especially if you were wearing those sweatpants,” I say with a laugh.

“What’s so good about my sweatpants?” Eli asks, totally clueless.

“Seriously? You’ve never heard of sweatpants season?” I ask, wiggling my eyebrows at him.

Eli looks confused, glancing between me and his sweatpants.

“Sweatpants have soft fabric…” I say suggestively, raising my eyebrows at him.

When he still looks confused, I sigh and continue.

“Soft fabric that molds and shows outlines of certain body parts…” I go on, flicking my eyes down to the outline of his cock that is visible in his pants. “Congratulations, by the way,” I say with a wink.

Eli’s mouth drops open, his eyes going wide as his cheeks flame a bright shade of red.

“That’s what girls are looking at?!” he asks, sounding outraged.

“I mean, some girls, maybe.”

Eli glares at me, tugging his shirt lower as I laugh.

“I won’t look. Promise,” I say, holding my pinky out to him.

He grumbles but takes it and we both lean in, kissing our hands and sealing the pinky promise.

There’s a moment of awareness that passes between us as we stare into each other’s eyes. We both jerk apart and get busy cleaning up our painting equipment.

“Why are you so against dating and boyfriends and all of that?” Eli asks me as we clean up.

“I just never had the time. Culinary school was so competitive that I never found anyone that I trusted enough to go out with. Not that anyone was asking anyway. After that, I was busy taking care of my grams and trying to save up to start our bakery.”