the customer wanted red.”
“Then just change a few things. Instead of the pashmina, use a satin teddy. Replace the handcuffs with ropes. Instead of massage oil, go for body paints or edible panties.”
“That’s not part of the artistic vision.”
“Well, the artistic vision you came up with was a rerun. Either ditch the lofty standards or be happy with a duplicate.”
“You’re right. Let’s do it your way.”
They worked silently for a few minutes, exchanging and rearranging items and then Ashley ventured, “Are you sure you don’t want to talk?”
Ashley was a sweetheart, but Eden couldn’t see unburdening herself to the free-spirited nineteen-year-old even though the young woman probably knew way more about sex than Eden did and she was six years younger. Ashley’s advice was bound to be something wild and crazy. Like have a red-hot fling with a handsome stranger.
Well, she’d tried that, hadn’t she? Her one miserable attempt at reconnecting with her femininity had ended in terrible failure when Josh Cameron—a guy she’d known only a couple of weeks before going to bed with him—had been so repulsed by her burns he’d fled her apartment without having sex with her.
That kind of reaction didn’t do a hell of a lot for a girl’s self-esteem.
Eden clenched a red satin bow in her hand and sank her top front teeth into her bottom lip to eradicate the memory of her single pathetic attempt at having intercourse after she’d been burned. In the wake of Josh’s reaction she’d been too scared of rejection to try again.
“Do you wanna know why I think you’re so frazzled?” Ashley asked.
Please save me from the wisdom of teenagers.
“Not really.”
“You need to get some juicy booty.”
“Ashley!”
“Don’t go all prude on me. If I’m not mistaken that’s a man-shaped vibrator you’re holding. Seriously, I think that’s why your baskets have been a bit blah lately. You need a little divine inspiration.”
“Thanks for your opinion. I’ll take it under consideration.”
“I know this hot-looking spray-paint artist who specializes in nudes. I think you two would really hit it off.”
“I can find my own dates, thank you.”
“Hmm. I’ve been working here almost ten months and as far as I know you haven’t hooked up with a guy even once. You spend all your time building fantasies and no time living them. Under those conditions anyone would burn out.”
“I appreciate your concern, but my love life is my private business. Could we talk about something else, please?”
Ashley shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
At that moment the wind chimes over the door whispered a resonant woodsy sound and a shapely older woman dressed in the latest designer fall fashions stepped over the threshold.
The woman was Jayne Lockerbee. Her favorite customer. Eden smiled.
Jayne was one red-hot granny who believed sex should be discussed freely and enjoyed often. She loved shocking her conservative friends and relatives by gifting them with Eden’s baskets.
“Yo, J. Lo!” Ashley greeted Jayne in the hip, breezy style Eden so often envied.
“Hey, Ash, what’s happenin’?” Mrs. Lockerbee grinned.
“Not much. How’s Mr. Lo?”
“Sexy as ever.” The woman winked. “In fact, that’s why I’m here. I need a very special gift basket for our thirtieth wedding anniversary.”
“No kidding? That’s so awesome. Married thirty years and you’re still having wild sex,” Ashley blurted.
“Better than ever. There’s nothing sexier than experience.” Mrs. Lockerbee turned her attention to Eden. “Now about that basket. I was thinking maybe a little Tarzan and Jane action. What can you create for me along those lines?”
“I’ll help her, if you wanna finish that.” Ashley nodded.
Normally Eden handled all gift consultations, but Ashley knew Jayne well and she was trying to help out in the face of Eden’s creative crash and burn.
“Sure. That’ll be fine.”
“Really?” Ashley’s eyes lit up at the honor Eden had bestowed upon her.
“Really. You don’t mind if Ashley waits on you this time, do you, Jayne?”
“Of course not. Maybe Ashley will even share some of her sexual escapades with me.” Jayne winked. “I haven’t forgotten what it’s like to be young.”
Have I? Eden thought. The notion was an unsettling one. Old before her time. Washed-up before she’d ever really started living.
“We just got in these great new leopard-print loincloths,” Ashley said to Jayne.
“Hmm, sounds promising.”
“Here, let me show you.” Ashley escorted Jayne to the rear of the store.
Shaking the doubt from her head, Eden returned to the task at hand. What would it be like to have Jayne’s life? Married thirty years and still enjoying terrific sex. Would she ever have that?
With those scars? Not likely.
Eden sighed. Some people were lucky in love. Apparently, she was not. On that score, she was her mother’s daughter.
But it doesn’t mean you can’t be lucky in lust, nudged a naughty voice at the back of her mind. Come on, Eden, you know you want to have sex.
And expanding her sexual horizons would be good for both business and her creativity. It was the missing piece of the puzzle and in her heart she knew it.
Her cautious nature had held her back for too long. Lack of experience was what had her feeling like a fraud, and feeling like a fraud was responsible for her artistic block.
And just because Josh was a jerk didn’t mean all men would run away at the sight of her scars. She just had to take her time and find a kind, sensitive lover who intimately knew his way around a woman’s body. Simply entertaining thoughts of that mystery lover had her tingling with longing.
Okay, all right. She needed to get laid. But even if she was willing to take a huge risk, strip off her clothes in front of a stranger and reveal her secret vulnerability, she had absolutely no prospects in mind—Ashley’s hottie spray-paint artist aside.
She tied the big red bow around the basket and then stepped over to place it in the orders-waiting-to-be-picked-up glass display case. She set the basket down, and then slowly raised her head and peered out the front window that was open just a crack.
The
