My Hot Enemy – Southern Heat Read Online Natasha L. Black

Categories Genre: Alpha Male, Contemporary, Erotic Tags Authors: Natasha L. Black Advertisement

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I took a peek and saw the crowd gathering outside in the parking lot of the high school. There had to be hundreds of people out there, all waiting to get in and watch the charity game Graham and I had put together. To say that it was already a smashing success was an understatement.

“Damn,” I said. “I think we’re going to hit our fundraising goal tonight in one shot. The other businesses and families hit by the storm are going to be so excited.”

“It also means a bunch of headlines saying Brewer Grocery Charity Drive Meets Fundraising Goal,” Graham said, beaming as he stretched behind me. “High five.”

I high fived him and shook my head. This was crazy. When Melanie first suggested we do a charity game, with Graham as the centerpiece, I thought he would say no. But the second I pitched it to him over a hotdog during a cookout at Melanie’s place, Graham was all about it. He loved the silliness and fun of charity games, and the last couple he had done worked spectacularly for their money raising goals.

Combining the event with the opening of the rebuilt store and a host of other events designed to raise money for the other folks hit hard by the storm was another stroke of Melanie’s genius. It engendered goodwill among the community at large, helped us get visibility for our opening, and have a bit of fun too.

We were standing in the locker room on the outside of the school, leading either out into the yard or back in through the gymnasium. It was about time to head down there, and as I looked back at Mark, Camden, Ryan, and Graham, all in patchwork baseball uniforms with “Brewer’s Grocery” on their chests, I was filled with pride.

All five of us were together, having fun and playing with a couple of other townsfolk, including the mayor. All of us apart from Graham were playing against select employees from the store. Graham was designated pitcher for both teams, which was going to be interesting. He promised not to fire any fastballs, or worse, his slider, at us. But I didn’t believe him.

The game itself flew by in a blur. Starting at nine in the morning, I was shocked to see the stands packed with so many wide-awake and excited people. Graham was having a blast slinging zingers in there, getting the crowd going with laughter when he would send his looping curve in and make people strike out so hard they fell over. It was a point of pride for myself that not only did I not strike out, but that I cranked a double off him, smacking off the wall and missing a home run by feet in one of my at-bats.

After the game, Graham was set up to do an autograph session, which explained the large mass of jerseys from his days in the majors. All of us were technically going to be out there, but we all knew that Graham was the one they wanted to get autographs from, take pictures with, and chat about baseball with. It didn’t bother us, but we did like to poke fun at him some.

There was a slew of other events set up for the day as well. After the game and post-game activities, I was rushed, still sweating in my uniform, down to the fully rebuilt store. The office suite that was built inside had a tiny restroom with a shower in it, and I hopped in so I could change and be ready for the store opening at noon.

By the time I got out of the shower, Camden had already shown up with some of the horses and built a corral for them in the neighboring empty lot, which I had bought after the abandoned building in it had gone down in the storm as well. Alongside Camden was Carmela and Mark, guiding children over to do pony rides and taking pictures of people with the gorgeous horses.

Not to be outdone, Ryan and Allison showed up and set up a booth outside, handing out samples of the cupcakes Allison served at their bed and breakfast. Word spread quickly, and a line formed at her table so long that Ryan had to permanently come back in and work in our bakery, cranking out more of the cupcakes according to Allison’s recipe as fast as he could.

Then, at noon, Melanie opened the door of the store and let shoppers in for the first time since the place had been rebuilt. It was shiny and sparkly, but most of all, it was exactly what Melanie always thought it could be.

The bakery, despite having Ryan in it frantically trying to make cupcakes and not screw them up, was in full force, making fresh bread and cakes for customers to order. Mero’s had a little bistro set up inside as well, serving sandwiches using the bread from our bakery and coffee and tea. We licensed them for two years, and it was a steal of a deal, making sure that we had a name brand in the store to make sandwiches that didn’t involve a big multi-national chain.

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