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- Herausgeber: Giselle Renarde
- Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
- Sprache: Englisch
- Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019
When Butler meets a retro rockabilly pie shop owner, the last thing he expects is that she’ll try to seduce him. No, scratch that. The last thing he expects is for the pie girl’s wife to walk in on them! When the pie girls invite him to stay at their house, a visit to a lonely small town grows into the kind of adventure Butler wouldn’t have dreamed up in his wildest fantasies. Can a lonely man live in a dream? Bisexual fiction from award-winning queer Canadian author Giselle Renarde.
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Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man
© 2019 by Giselle Renarde
All rights reserved under the International and Pan-American Copyright Conventions. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, characters and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, organizations, events or locales is entirely coincidental. All sexually active characters in this work are 18 years of age or older.
This book is for sale to ADULT AUDIENCES ONLY. It contains substantial sexually explicit scenes and graphic language which may be considered offensive by some readers. Please store your files where they cannot be access by minors.
Cover design © 2019 Giselle Renarde
First Edition 2019
Warning: the unauthorized reproduction or distribution of this copyrighted work is illegal. Criminal copyright infringement, including infringement without monetary gain, is investigated by the FBI and is punishable by up to 5 years in prison and a fine of $250,000.
Table of Contents
Disclaimer
Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man | Adult Fiction | By | Giselle Renarde | Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Epilogue
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ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Pie Girls and the Very Lonely Man
Adult Fiction
By
Giselle Renarde
––––––––
Chapter One
“JUST GETTING READY to close up shop,” said the woman behind the counter. “But if all you’re after is coffee and pie, I’d be happy to oblige.”
She was lovely, luscious. He couldn’t take his eyes off her stunning red lips—except to check out her cleavage, which wasn’t very well hidden behind that cupcake-pink apron she wore. Everything about this girl seemed 50s-inspired. With that glossy orange beehive and flared polkadot skirt, she looked like some kind of antiquated combination of housewife and femme fatale.
Butler approached the glass case, which was full of pies in various states of unrest. “Coffee and pie would be... yeah, sounds great.”
“Great,” she said with a smile—a genuine smile, not a customer service smile. He’d had a feeling he would get that here. That’s one big reason he’d stepped into this hole-in-the-wall at 10:45 at night.
Well, that and the fact that no other eatery appeared to be open.
Weren’t there any bars in this town? Not that Butler was a bar guy. He just needed a moment away from his family. Nothing against them, but, after spending all day with his mother and sisters, he needed... he needed...
He didn’t know what he needed.
“Have a seat,” the pie girl said. “Anywhere you like.”
Butler stared at the pie case. Through it, he could see the girl’s porcelain skin glowing under fishnet stockings.
“What looks good?” she asked.
Part of him wanted to say YOU, but he kept it to himself. What was wrong with him, thinking about sex at a time like this? When everything in his life was falling apart.
“Blueberry.”
The pie girl said, “I like a man who knows what he wants.”
Butler wished he had some witty comeback for her, but his mind drew a blank.
He sat at the table nearest the pie case and watched as the girl in the apron bent to collect his slice. The top she had on hugged her breasts tightly. He couldn’t tear his gaze away from the sweet swell of those luscious mounds. If he concentrated hard enough, could he use his mental faculties to make her nipples pop out? He used to try stuff like that when he was a kid—not with nipples, just staring at toy cars and dinosaurs, urging them to move on their own.
But his mind wasn’t as strong as all that. He couldn’t change the world just by thinking about it. If he wanted to see the pie girl’s nipples, he’d have to act. And he was far too tired for that.
He’d lay a bet they were pink—peachy pink. He’d bet anything they were.
The pie girl raised her head, making Butler jump. She’d caught him staring at her breasts. She didn’t acknowledge his leer, or else she didn’t care. She simply said, “I think I’ll have a slice too.”
He watched her, watched every move she made. She didn’t seem to notice, or didn’t seem to mind. Her hips swivelled when she moved, sending her skirt this way and that. Butler didn’t normally notice girls’ outfits, but this one was hard to miss. She was really making a statement.
When she arrived at his table with two slices of blueberry pie and two cups of coffee, she took a seat across from him. “You don’t mind, do you? Only, I’ve been on my feet all day.”
Mind? Did he mind? He shook his head. At this point, he’d be willing to pay a pretty girl to sit with him. Good thing he didn’t have to.
“I’m Lindy, by the way. Oh! Forgot the whipped cream. You want some on yours?”
“Yes,” he said. “Please.” When she got up to grab a can from the fridge behind the counter, he realized he ought to introduce himself, too. “I’m Jerry. Butler. Everybody calls me Butler. Except my mom and my sister. But everybody else does.”
“Why’s that?” Lindy asked.
“Why’s what?”
“Why do people call you Butler?”
“Oh,” he said. “Well, that’s my name. My last name.”
She nodded largely. “Ahh. Well, that makes sense.”
When she returned with the can of whipped cream, she sprayed a huge dollop on his pie, and another on her own. Then she sat down and opened a couple little creamers to spill into her coffee.
Butler did the same, then tasted her pie. “Wow. This is genuinely delicious. I wasn’t expecting that.”
Lindy smiled, but gave him a quizzical look. “And why’s that, then?”
“Oh. Nothing about you. Not at all. I just haven’t really tasted anything since I got here.”
She looked around the shop. “Here?”
“Not here as in your store. Here as in this town. I guess it’s stress, worry, all that. I think it disconnects your taste buds from your brain or something. You just shovel in whatever food will stop your stomach from gurgling, and you don’t really care what it is. Taste isn’t... isn’t relevant.”
“It is here,” Lindy said, digging into her own slice of pie. “If it doesn’t taste good, what’s the point?”
“Survival,” Butler said.
He wasn’t sure the pie girl got it, but he wasn’t willing to go into detail. He sipped his coffee, savoured his pie, and tried not to stare at Lindy’s cleavage—all in silence.
“So,” she said, after a time. “You’re not from around here, I gather.”
“No,” he said. “My mother. My mother and her husband. They live here.”
“You’re visiting?”
“Sort of.”
Did he want to go into detail? No, but also yes. He had no one to talk to anymore. He didn’t know anyone in town. Normally he’d talk to Tracey about this, about everything, but not anymore. That was done. He was done. With her.
“My mother... her husband’s in the hospital. That’s where I’ve been all day. All day today, all day yesterday, the day before.”
Lindy gazed at him sweetly across the table. “That’s tough.”
“Yeah. I mean, I don’t want to complain. I’m here for my mother, to support her. She loves the guy. She’s so in love with him. She’s not ready to let him go.”
“You think he’s going to... he’s not going to make it?”
Butler shook his head. “I’m amazed he’s still kicking. Sorry, that sounds... not great. But you know what I mean. The guy’s not doing so well.”
Reaching across the table, the pie girl—this total stranger in fishnet stockings—took hold of his hand and squeezed it firmly. Her skin was so soft. Soft and warm like a loaf of bread fresh from the oven. “You’re a good son, being there for you mother.”
He shrugged. If only Tracey’d given him the same credit. Maybe they’d still be together.
“You’re upset,” Lindy said. “I’m sorry. I hope it wasn’t something I said.”
“No, no.”
“You’re upset about your stepfather?”
Butler laughed. “He’s not my stepfather.” Then he realized that wasn’t strictly true. “Well, yeah, I guess he is. Technically. My mother only married the guy last year. They met online. Can you believe that? Sixty-three years old and she picks up sticks to move in with a guy she met on the internet. But they’re good together, they really are. My sisters tease her about her ‘older man’—because he’s in his seventies—but he makes her happy. They really seem to love each other. And...”
Butler pulled his hand from Lindy’s to grab his coffee cup. He needed a drink. Of anything. Didn’t matter what.
“And what?” Lindy asked.
He didn’t want to say. He shouldn’t have started to say. But, since she’d asked, he told her, “Now the guy’s about to croak. They’ve had so little time together. It isn’t fair.”
He didn’t want to talk anymore, so he picked up his fork and finished off his slice.
