Just Desserts Read Free Page B

morning.”
    “Great news, sexy. But I’m at the diner this evening, so he’ll have to come in for dinner and wait for dessert. But this one—” She chuckled and pointed toward Sadie. “She needs a night out. You willing to show her a good time? It’s Monday. The Bunny Club has two-for-one margaritas.”
    “Oh, Lindy. I can’t, I’m not, I don’t. I’m not going anywhere with him,” Sadie sputtered.
    Their raunchy pillow talk had her flustered, or was it Quinn’s laser-like vision? Her cheeks burned. She clutched the recycled grocery sack over her shoulder and perused the veggies on the table. Sadie ripped off a full stem of chard and fanned it in front of her face. “I’m busy.”
    Lindy looked at her skeptically.
    “I’ll come when I’m invited. If Sadie’s occupied, then maybe we’ll get together another time,” Quinn said.
    Sadie felt harried by his seductive scrutiny and innuendo. She stumbled and bumped into the corner of Lindy’s produce table.
    Quinn draped his arm over her shoulders to steady her. Snug against his chest, his warmth was heady. When the back pocket of her denim mini-skirt vibrated, she let out a grunt and swallowed an orgasmic sounding moan.
    “My cell—it’s on—it—oscillates .” She stepped away from Quinn and his mind-bending testosterone and avoided the word vibrate.
    Bryan: Where r u? Here at market
    She pivoted around and scanned the line of farmers’ stalls under the big top tent.
    “Sadie, what’s going on? What was on the oscillating cell phone?” Lindy chided.
    “Bryan. He’s finally here.”
    Quinn leaned against the table and thumbed back the husk tip of an ear of corn.
    Sadie’s body temp cooled down since the corn had Quinn’s undivided attention.
    “Woo-hoo,” Lindy groaned.

Chapter Three
     
    Sadie shaded her eyes to search for Bryan’s inky clean-cut hair topping off his six-foot frame. He would undoubtedly be in his khaki trousers and maybe, if he were a daredevil, he traded his standard blue oxford for a short-sleeve white one, considering the day’s sauna-like conditions.
    The market had begun to empty out, but on the far end of the public pier a gang of public works guys unloaded a truck. They wheeled around blocks of mobile bleachers, dollies loaded with folding chairs and stage pieces. Sadie wondered what band would be playing later.
    From the glare of the afternoon sun, her vision was spotted as she texted Bryan. Suddenly, a yank on her elbow swung her around. Before her, a man that might have passed as Bryan, in the nineteen-sixties, ogled her. She stared at her straight-laced man who now looked like he’d found hippy-ism or joined some sort of cult.
    Bryan’s jet black hair had six more inches to its length and he donned a beard and a mustache to match it. The coup de grace was his Birkenstock sandals, which replaced his standard Allen Edmonds’ wing-tips. His tie-dyed shirt sported a silhouette of Bob Marley and drooped down over a bulging beltline. Only his trademark khaki trousers were dully recognizable.
    Lindy and Quinn no longer found the ears of corn titillating.
    “Sadie, Sadie, my little lady,” he sang. “I’ve found you.”
    Funny Lady?
    “Bryan?” Sadie cast off her shock and went to hug him, but a piece of green food buried in his wiry beard distracted her. She stopped and shook his hand instead.
    “It’s been so long, babe, I know. I would have been here sooner, but there’s been some changes.”
    “Really? We haven’t talked since before my mom’s funeral, and I’ve been busy taking care of—” She stopped and shook her head to look closer at the man who she’d pinned all her hopes on of escaping Lake Geneva. She tried to adjust to his new psychedelic vision. Overwhelmed and a tad woozy, she perched on Lindy’s display table and clutched the edge.
    “Sadie, you’re a beautiful human being. You’re blessed with hair as lovely as the vision of the setting sun,” Bryan sang.
    “That’s divine. Does