All You Can Handle (Moments In Maplesville Book 5) by Farrah Rochon

what would have undoubtedly led to some of the best sex of his life.
    Dammit .
    He knew it would have been spectacular.
    What stunned him the most in these last two weeks was how well they got along when they were not naked in the front seat of her car, despite the fact that they were complete opposites. She had this natural, carefree vibe about her, while his main focus was on work. But in those little snippets of time when he wasn’t at the refinery, or at Trey’s, or here in the garage working on a bike, he loved spending whatever time he could with Sonny.
    He hoped like hell that she had a cake to bake today. He’d become accustomed to hanging out in his kitchen, watching with no small amount of awe as she turned flour, water and sugar into a work of art. The only thing Ian didn’t like about it was how their conversations eventually turned into her talking about moving to a bigger city and opening up her own boutique cake business. She’d barely arrived in Maplesville and she was already thinking about the next city she would move to.
    He couldn’t help but think about what might happen at the end of the month. Would she choose to stay, or would she pack up those vinyl albums and colorful throw pillows and say adios to this town? A rancid taste flooded his mouth at the thought.
    The side door opened and Sonny stepped through. Her huge afro was as wild as ever. She wore tight jeans, a suede vest with long fringe that started just under her breast and fell nearly to the tattoo at her waist, and huge amber-colored sunglasses covering half her face. The smile that graced her lips at the sight of him was everything Ian needed in life right now.
    “Hi,” she greeted.
    “Hey,” Ian said. He slung the oil-smudged rag he’d used to clean the carburetor onto his worktable and wiped his fingers on a clean one. Then, unsure what to do with his hands, he picked up the torque wrench and started in on the stubborn lug nut he’d been trying to remove. “Done already at Kiera’s?” he asked.
    She nodded and pulled the glasses from her eyes, hooking them between her breasts. Of course, now all he could do was think about her breasts.
    “We spent much of today prepping for some church fair happening this weekend.”
    “St. Michael’s,” Ian said. “It’s that huge Catholic church over on Wisteria Boulevard. Their spring festival is legendary around here.”
    “That’s what Kiera told me. We’re bringing the food truck out there.” She gestured to the Yamaha he’d rescued from a salvage yard north of Denham Springs a few months ago. “So, are those the type of bikes you’ll be selling in your shop?”
    Ian’s attention remained on the delicate shadows created by her cleavage.
    Sonny clapped her hands together. “Hello, earth to Ian.”
    “What?” he asked, shaking his head.
    “The motorcycle? Is it the kind you plan to sell in your new bike shop?”
    Ian lifted a shoulder. “Sure. Along with whatever else I can get my hands on.”
    He gave the torque wrench a yank and heard a pop, followed by a sharp pain. “Shit,” Ian cursed, holding his finger against his chest.
    Sonny was at his side in an instant. “What happened?” She tugged his hand away from his chest. “Let me see it.”
    “I think…think I broke it,” Ian said, his teeth clenched.
    “It’s not broken, just dislocated,” Sonny said. She caught the tip of his injured finger and popped it back into place. “How does that feel?” she asked.
    “Still hurts like a bitch.” Ian tried to wiggle his finger.
    “No, don’t move it just yet. You need to put some ice on it and take a couple of pain relievers. Give me a sec.”
    She went upstairs to her apartment and just a few minutes later returned with a Ziploc bag filled with crushed ice, a bottle of water and two pills. She handed him the pills and uncapped the water bottle before placing it in his uninjured hand.
    “Keep the ice on it for at least ten minutes. It’ll numb the pain and