Chapter One
Vera
Idon’t think ten inches will fit, let alone twelve.
I thunked my head against the table. The enormous dildo that had been lying in front of me rolled off and hit the ground with an impressive thunk.
I don’t know why I thought this was a good idea. I needed to bring in more money if I wanted to help Benji with his tuition when he went off to college this fall.
Since my ex and I split five years ago, making ends meet has been more of a stretch. I thought a side hustle like selling these custom-made, multipurpose nightstands would be a perfect idea. Every parent could relate to the fear of their kid discovering their sex toys. A hidden compartment built into a sleek, attractively designed nightstand was the answer.
The problem was I had no idea how to design anything, or run a business, for that matter.
In a panic, I’d walked into Wild Timber Homes a week ago, a custom home builder in the area, and spilled my guts to the woman working in the office. She’d said she’d given my name and number to one of the carpenters, but the guy hadn’t called yet.
It was fine. I could do this on my own. I was just hoping to get a little expertise so I could get this project off the ground in timeto help my son. I knew how to build; I just needed someone who could help me with the innovation part.
There was a trade show coming up in two weeks. It always had lots of small home-based businesses, people selling soap and knitted or quilted items. I could get a ton of orders for these if I just had something to show at the event. Then once I’d built one, I could build a heap of them, different colors, different dimensions with the same hidden secret.
But it had to fit the biggest toys you could buy. If it couldn’t take a whole foot of cock, then I could lose out on buyers. The design ideas I’d been playing with weren’t cutting it.
It had to be big, but also look sleek. Kids were smart. If it were obvious, they would find it.
“What’s for dinner?” My son walked past me, seemingly without noticing the dildo on the ground.
I guess not all kids were good at finding things.
I carefully kicked the toy under the table as Benji poked his nose into the fridge. He had just turned eighteen and was always hungry. Luckily, I could take home some leftovers from the diner where I worked. “There’s soup and breadsticks, but I’ll make something more later.”
“Score,” he glanced at me over his shoulder as he pulled containers from the fridge. He had his father’s looks. Boy next door, blond hair and blue eyes. I was lucky he hadn’t made me a grandma as young as I’d made my mom one, although there was still time. “You okay, Mom?” he asked.
I nodded. “Just trying to stretch a dollar.”
He frowned. “You don’t need to help me with college, I told you that already. I’ve got some money saved from my summer job at Two Rivers Tree Falling, and Brody promised me some weekend work was coming up soon.”
I sighed. That wouldn’t be enough. Even if he lived at home, it wouldn’t be enough, and I knew he had his heart set onthe dorms. Springwood Technical Institute was only a forty-five minute drive from here, but that would make for long days if he had to commute. “It’s my job to worry, kiddo.”
He slid a bowl of soup into the microwave and sat down across from me. “I’m not a kid, Mom.”
No matter how old he got, he would always be my kid, but I knew he didn’t want to hear that right now. And whether he expected me to help him or not, I still intended to. Assuming I could figure out how to get this goddamn design right.
My phone vibrated on the table.
Wild Timber Homesflashed on the screen.
I answered, quickly stepping away from the table so Benji wouldn’t hear. I’d tell him my business plan eventually, but not until I had it up and running.
“Hello?”
“Hi, this is Wyatt calling from Wild Timber Homes. Our office manager, Layne, said you needed help with a small project?”
I breathed out a sigh. “Yes, I’m trying to build a prototype for a furniture design and I…I’m stuck,” I admitted, failing to keep the desperation I was feeling from leeching into my voice.
Asking for help was a shit feeling.
“We can sort it out together,” his voice was light and reassuring. “I’ll need to see what you’re working on. I can come to you.”
I sank onto the couch. “That would be great.” The simple sound of the man’s voice calmed my rapid heart rate.
