Claiming His Labor Day by Pratt Lulu

Author:Pratt, Lulu
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Lulu Pratt
Published: 2019-10-01T16:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER 3

Fiona

BY THE TIME I rounded the exit and entered the parking lot, I was nearly running, my skirt flapping around my thighs as I hastened to my car.

Not until I was inside, the door securely locked, did I lean my head back against the seat and rest my arms on the steering wheel, willing them to stop buzzing with nerves.

Jagger was back.

Could it really be? Five years, no contact with a single person here and just like that, he was back? It seemed too good to be true, as though my earlier mention of him had conjured his presence from thin air.

After all these years, he still had it. It would’ve been easier, had he returned with a beer belly and yellowed eyes. But nope, Jagger remained the hottest man in Little Lane, maybe in the entire Northern Highland area. And that was even when he wasn’t here, which was quite the feat — it’s hard to be the hottest person in a place where you don’t reside. That takes skill.

I started the car and cranked the radio up on the station that played almost exclusively music from the ’80s.

It wasn’t fair. You should be able to age out of high-school crushes, like the older you get, the more potency they lose. Seeing Jagger, though, made me feel sixteen again, helpless and totally, swooningly in love. Hell, there was even a moistness between my thighs that came so thick and fast it rocketed me right back to being on the bus home from school and feeling my center pulse with energy at every bump in the road.

In high school, Jagger was my number-one crush. And, if I was being honest, I still thought about him every now and then, when I was home alone, finished with grading papers, my skin still warm from the shower. But those thoughts were never more than that — just thoughts. In school, Jolie had suspected I had a crush on him, often teasing me about it. As she grew older, though, and their relationship fractured, the taunts had subsided. There was nobody to talk to about my feelings, even in jest. So slowly, I forgot about them.

That was, until about five minutes ago.

Now, I was right back where I’d started — hot and bothered.

“Don’t do this, don’t do this,” I murmured to myself, lifting my crotch up from the seat so that I couldn’t feel the welcome pressure against me.

Here’s the thing — Jolie and Jagger hadn’t spoken since their parents’ divorce in our senior year of high school. That wasn’t uncommon in a place like Little Lane — the timing of the divorce, that is. Most everybody waited until their kids were out of the house to get divorced, rightly figuring that it would be hard to survive on a single parent’s salary in a town where the average income was thirty-two thousand dollars a year. Feeding hungry mouths was expensive. It had become such a known local phenomenon that people often called senior year the “Separation Year.

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