Hot Pickle - J.J. Knight Page 0,45

solved.”

I practically stagger for the stack of towels nearby. I’m completely toast. A goner.

She was absolutely right about one thing.

I’m one-hundred percent under her control.

20

Camryn

The morning after my naked tan with Max Pickle, I lie in bed, wondering what the hell I have done.

I went into the evening trying to even the score. I guess I should’ve known it was going to get dirty.

Honestly, it could’ve gotten a hell of a lot dirtier.

But I can still feel his body rubbing up and down mine.

I felt so powerful. So in control.

I don’t know where to go from here. We’re headed into a physical relationship. That makes sense after all those naked sessions.

But what about the rest? Dating. Talking. Getting to know each other.

We have the most abnormal relationship, ever. What have we done together? Six tanning sessions. Two competitions. One walk in the park.

And of course, I guess I did go visit him at the deli that day.

Maybe I should do that again. Strike up an ordinary conversation.

With both of us dressed.

I pull my phone off the side table. But instead of writing Max, I write Sofia.

Did what you said.

Her response is swift.

You banged him??????

No. Took off my clothes.

You tanned him naked????

I did a lot more than that, but I’m not willing to commit it to a text.

Yes. Now I feel like I should have gotten dinner first.

So go get dinner!

Now?

Go get lunch!

She’s right. I can do that.

Decision made, I get out of bed and hop in the shower. Maybe I’ll put on a different look today. He’s used to seeing me work.

What is something I would never wear in a tanning session?

The day is bright and glorious, so I choose a pale-blue sundress and wedge sandals.

I curl my hair into spirals, which is rare for me since it’s so long and takes forever. It falls in a glorious cascade of brown and red. A tiny silver circlet holds back a few pieces and gives a romantic feel.

It matches those messages he gave me the day I met Sofia.

I put on more makeup, not a lot, pink gloss on my lips and a bit of blush in addition to my mega-mascara that I’m pretty sure makes him crazy.

I wait until the lunch rush is over, and head into what I assume is a quiet time on a weekday. When I enter the deli, the two employees I recognize from the first time lean on the counter.

“It’s her,” singsongs the one at the register, tall with a cascade of black braids falling over her shoulders.

The man, a good foot shorter and wearing a backward baseball cap, says, “Max is in the back. You want me to take you there?”

“You know who I am?” I ask.

“Of course we do,” the cashier says. “You’re the reason he’s in a fog all day.”

Really? I smooth my skirt with nervous hands. “I don’t want to disturb him if he’s busy.”

Baseball Cap Boy shakes his head. “He’s never going to be too busy for you.”

This is all a revelation. Has he spoken about me? How do they know?

I hope they’ll say more, but the man comes around the counter and leads me through the swinging door to the kitchen.

Another man is chopping onions, and farther back, a stern-looking woman loads a loaf of bread into a slicer. Neither of them pays any attention to me.

The man knocks on a door near the back wall. “Boss man? You have a visitor.”

“Come in.” Max’s voice is low and deep and suddenly my stomach flutters with butterflies. This is his turf, not mine.

The man opens the door. “There you go.”

“Thanks.”

Max sits in a desk chair facing a computer. His back is to the door.

When he turns and sees me, his entire expression changes. “Camryn! What a pleasant surprise.” He hops up from his chair and closes the door.

“I wasn’t busy today. Is this an okay time?”

“Of course. God, you look beautiful.” He lifts a long curl from my shoulder. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

“I realized this morning that our encounters have been limited. I thought maybe we could do something unrelated to tans.”

His eyes light up. “So, it’s official? I can ask you out on a normal date?”

“You mean one where we’re not naked?”

He laughs. “This is almost as good. Sit down.” He drags another chair close to his. “Should we go somewhere tonight? Dinner? Drinks? What would you like?”

“You’re making my point,” I say. “You don’t know anything about what I like.”

He leans in close. “I look forward