They were opposites in every possible way, and yet the second their eyes met, something clicked.
“Um, hi?” Xan said, a little breathless. “I’m obsessed with your cardigan. The embroidery is perfect.”
Parker’s grin went supernova. “You’re too sweet. I thrifted it last summer. Can we talk about your dress, though? It’s giving Morticia Addams meets meadow fairy, and I’m so here for it.”
Xan clutched their chest. “The highest honor.”
I leaned forward, resting my elbow on the counter. “Parker, this is Xan. Xan, Parker.”
Xan snapped their fingers. “Of course, the skincare girly. I’m so excited for this collaboration.”
Parker laughed, bright and easy. “Likewise. Your energy is immaculate.”
“What are you doing here so late on a Wednesday night?” I asked her. Not that I wasn’t excited to see her. She was just . . . an awfully long way from Awful.
“Funny you should ask. I decided to get away from the farm for a few days and camp out at the most charming, vintage trailer resort on the edge of town.”
I raised an eyebrow. “You’re staying at Bed of Roses?”
She nodded. “Just for a couple nights. I needed a little space from the house. Cat’s been on a decluttering kick, and I swear if I have to hear one more lecture about how my crystal collection takes up too much space, I’m going to scream.”
“Fair enough.”
“So, I figured I would drop in and grab some smutty reading while I was in town. Got anything with vampires?”
Xan scoffed and crossed their arms. “Do we have anything with vampires?” they repeated, a mocking edge to their tone. “Right this way.”
They led Parker toward the back corner of the store, where the shelves were painted a deep crimson and the sign above read “Love Sucks” in dripping gothic font.
“Welcome to the bloodiest section in Rose City,” they said, gesturing grandly.
After about fifteen minutes of talking Parker’s ear off while she flipped through books, the three of us wandered back to the register. I rang up Parker’s finds—It Happened One Bite,Eternal Hunger, and a story collection calledFangs for the Memoriesthat Xan had insisted was “essential vampire smut”—and was about halfway through bagging them up when she slapped a hand down on the counter.
“I’ve decided what we should do for the first run of your honey products. Honey dust and massage bars.”
I raised an eyebrow. “Massage bars, I understand. But honey dust? Like . . . for baking?”
Xan choked on their soy latte. Parker burst out laughing.
“Oh, Belles,” Xan said, patting my knee. “Honey dust is an edible body powder. You sprinkle it on, lick it off.” She wagged her eyebrows.
My face went hot so fast, I was sure my cheeks were glowing. “Like a sex thing?”
Parker nodded like this was the most normal conversation in the world. “Foreplay, mainly. It’s sensual without being messy like straight honey—”
“That’s a UTI waiting to happen,” Xan added.
“—and the massage bars could be scented with essential oils. Great for sensual massage, maybe with CBD for extra relaxation. I already have a line on a sex shop in Portland that might be interested.”
Xan perked up. “Genius. People will eat those up. Pun intended.”
I blinked, processing. “You two are dangerous together.”
Parker grinned. “We’re just business minded. And horny.”
“Very horny,” Xan agreed.
I stared at the counter, mind racing through all the possibilities. From what Parker had described, the ingredients were simple enough—powdered honey, cornstarch for texture, some edible flavorings. The production could be small batch at first, something I would be able to produce in my kitchen.
