When you inherit something you know nothing about and a sexy young lady comes along... Well, what's a guy to do?
A love story juicy as a peach. Hope you enjoy! xo DG
Hotter Than The Devil's Balls
Chapter 1
Matt
I ran my finger around the collar of my white sport shirt and thought if it was this hot in May, it must be the devil's balls come July.
The bees buzzed around the ripe, mostly overripe, Georgia peaches. Obviously, they didn't suffer in this pea soup humidity. I found myself frowning at the bees. I'm losing my mind, I really need to get it together and get the hell out of here.
Suddenly a jacked-up pickup truck screeched around the corner on two wheels billowing clouds of Georgia red dust, then hitting the berm in front of my peach stand locking up all four wheels.
The red clouds billowed and drifted, making me thankful I was upwind.
The royal blue metallic beast had a thick coat of the same red dust and dried mud on the talk knobby tires. The door flung open, and a pair of bare legs, dangling white flip flops from red-painted toes appeared, then slid down from the truck, plunking to the ground.
"PHEW!"
The door slammed shut and a tall blonde threw her hands on her hips and looked at the truck as though it took her for that ride, not the other way around
"Durn thing," she grumbled, kicking a shapely leg at the truck.
"It is a big vehicle," I said and decided to stop while I was ahead when she spun around and scowled at me.
"What?" Hands on her hips she turned and gave me a death glare. "Too big for a little girl like me?"
I shifted awkwardly in the old aluminum folding chair that was already uncomfortable because half the webbing was shredded apart and the rest stretched. I sure wasn't about to get into a war of words with a stunner that was probably half my forty-eight years. Hell, maybe even less.
Besides, she wasn't all that little. She had to have been five-eight, not much shorter than my five-eleven. That was where our resemblance ended. A killer hourglass shape started with what had to have been thirty-eight Ds, down to a small waist, flaring out into hips that any man would give their left nut to hang onto.
"No, not at all." I swooped in for the save. Mine. "You seemed to be handling it well. Like a seasoned pro."
She studied me for a minute, giving me a chance to study the most awesome grey-blue eyes I've ever seen. Her eyes crinkled at the corners before she let out a loud laugh.
"Hollywood, I gotta admit, that was a good save," she grinned.
Damn. Busted
. "And you're right, that big ol' piece is a pain in my behind," she drawled. "My brother is letting me use it while my car is in the shop."
"Hollywood?" I said, raising my eyebrows.
She crossed her arms in front of her, which pushed her breasts higher in the scoop neck tank, which made me feel like an old lecher by looking. But, what the hell. I probably was an old lecher.
While I gawked, she was checking me out. No doubt noticing the greying around my temples.
"Folks from these parts don't wear polyester golf shirts and dress shorts in this heat. Especially when they're sellin' wares that drip all over their laps," she said, those pale blue eyes full of mirth while the corners of her mouth wanted to bust into a laugh.
I looked down. "Well crap," I groaned seeing the peach juice that dripped off the edge of the counter to stain a peachy pink circle on the front of my pants.
"It'll wash out," she said, finally letting her mouth break into a big grin. She chose a peach from the baskets piled between us and tossed it in her hand. "If you're lucky." She glanced at my pants again and laughed.
I didn't care. I'd have done about anything to watch that girl laugh. Her amusement was contagious, and I had to laugh at her laugh.
Fool, you're getting ridiculous.
"I think they might be overripe." She looked over my shoulder at the orchard. "I remember when these trees were not much bigger than me when I was a young un'." Her eyes scanned the ground seeing the peaches that had just fallen off the tree. "They're still producin' nicely though aren't they."
The lilt of her southern accent drew me in, I blinked, trying to remember what she said.
"This all belonged to my aunt and uncle. My uncle lived here after my aunt died. When he passed, his lawyer contacted me and told me they left it all to me. I admit to knowing not one thing about growing peaches." I chuckled. "I'm in insurance."
She nodded, not seeming surprised to hear that news, and took a big bite of the juicy peach. The tip of her tongue flicked out and caught the juice on her lips, and sucked it in. Then she took a big lap of the dripping peach. I heard her appreciative hum of the sweet fruit and wondered what it would sound like in my ear with her tongue teasing my earlobe.
Get a grip, man!
I leaned forward and rested my elbows on my knees, hoping to hide my dick that had risen to that flight of fantasy.
She took another couple of bites and walked across the drive to toss the pit off a distance. I watched her sway over and averted my eyes as she turned.
"So, whatcha gonna do with it, Hollywood?"
She perched one ass cheek on the creaky old stand and swung her leg.
I laced my fingers across my stomach and leaned back in the chair, hoping it would hold me and I wouldn't go ass over teacup in front of her. I took a couple of deep breaths and tried to quell my suddenly awakened libido.
"Maybe we should introduce ourselves... I'm Matthew. Matt."
She quirked an eyebrow and said, "Is that something y'all Yankees do? I mean we have our Jim Bobs, but y'all use the same name? My stepsister Georgia married a handsome hunk of a Yankee, and his name is Bradley Brad."
I laughed, not having a clue what she was talking about, but she was just so damn cute it didn't make any difference.
"Matt will be just fine. And you are...?"
"Callie. Just plain Callie." She leaned over and shook my hand. "Nice to meetcha."
Soft hand, firm grip. I liked that.
"You as well," I smiled.
"We don't get many strangers come through our little burg. Tourists come through during peach season and a few gawkers here and there. Bout it."
