Montana Heat: A Small Town Romance - Book 3 Read online

  Goldie dipped her head and looked at me over the reading glasses perched on the end of her nose. She had a bedazzled chain attached to them that hung about her neck. “Young lady, are you forgetting where you are?”

  I looked around the adult store filled with blow-up dolls, slutty lingerie, toys, videos, gag gifts. “Right. My view of the world is shifting from the ABCs to XXX.”

  Another very grumpy downside to the job, coincidentally, walked through the door. I inwardly cringed and outwardly sighed. Olive Perlnutter, elementary school librarian, morality police in her spare time. She was five feet tall in heels, gray hair like a helmet covered her head, and she wore a sour expression as if she was sucking on a lemon.

  Not my favorite person in the world and a perfect example of why I couldn't let my interest in writing erotic stories become public knowledge. If I could slink behind the display of bachelorette party items, I would, but she'd already seen me. It was a small store, so Goldie and I were hard to miss. I wore cargo shorts and a white T-shirt and tried to blend in a little more than my boss, although Goldie would be great to take hunting because no one could mistake her for the wildlife.

  “Violet Miller,” Olive said. I swore I heard a tsk tsk sound follow. It may have been her support hose as she walked, but I was unsure. “Is this a place for one of our children's role models?”

  I stared blankly at her as if she was insane—which she was—and said, “I'm Veronica.” My sister and I were always being mixed up, ever since...birth. It was time to use it to my advantage. I rarely pulled a switcheroo, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

  Olive gave me the once-over, obviously unconvinced.

  “What can I get for you, Olive?” Goldie, who cautiously watched us both, asked. She could always size up a situation, and I hoped she'd figure this one out quickly. It was true, working in an adult store as a summer job might not be the best thing for an elementary school teacher, but it wasn't as if I were selling product to six-year-olds. Their parents maybe, but that was all. Goldie ruthlessly drew the line at selling any adult product to kids. She gave free condoms to some, but they had to survive Goldie's sex talk first. And I doubted after that lovely discussion, any kid would have sex until they were forty.

  Olive stood there eyeing me, pocketbook clenched against her chest as if Goldie or I were going to yank it from her.

  “Veronica,” Goldie said, thankfully reinforcing my sister-switch. “Why don't you get the movies from the drop box for me while I help Olive?”

  Thrilled to be away from the crabby librarian, I dug out the videos that had been dropped off the previous night from the corner drop box by the window. Olive had moved close to Goldie and they were having a little tête-á-tête. Goldie wasn't giving much away, but it was clear, even at twenty feet that Olive was in her element, either imparting the latest gossip or singeing someone's reputation.

  “...and to influence children like that.”

  I caught the tail end of their conversation. My face heated, knowing Olive's latest tirade was about me. Maybe this job wasn't such a good idea after all. It could easily impact the next school year. What if I did publish that book? Olive would have fodder to use against me.

  Goldie lifted her head—she'd had to lean down to match the curmudgeon's petite stature—and pursed her lips, identical to Olive.

  I piled the videos on the counter and idly fiddled with them, pretending to alphabetize the stack.

  “Olive Perlnutter,” Goldie scolded. “If this girl over here”—she pointed at me—“really was Violet, her working in this store wouldn't impact her ability to teach children any more than you and Ralph watching girl-on-girl videos will impact the same children checking out books from the elementary school library.”

  I thought Olive would stroke out right there, her face got so red. I tried to hide a smirk of satisfaction as Goldie put the old bat in her place, while at the same time I tried to erase the image of Olive and her husband watching girl-on-girl action. I vomited a little in my mouth at the visual.

  “Well,” Olive said, turning on her heel and stomping out of the store.

  Goldie shrugged her shoulders. “Huh. I guess she'll be back later for her movie.”

  * * *

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  About the Author

  Vanessa Vale is the USA Today Bestselling author of over 40 books, sexy romance novels, including her popular Bridgewater historical romance series and hot contemporary romances featuring unapologetic bad boys who don't just fall in love, they fall hard. When she's not writing, Vanessa savors the insanity of raising two boys, is figuring out how many meals she can make with a pressure cooker, and teaches a pretty mean karate class. While she's not as skilled at social media as her kids, she loves to interact with readers.

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  www.vanessavaleauthor.com

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