The Virgin Billionaire's Hot Amish Escapade

So he picked up four big pumpkins and placed them gently in his shopping cart. They would be perfect for his Thanksgiving table. He'd use them in large rectangular baskets, with small gourds and dried corn he'd found at a market in New York. He wanted to keep everything organic that year: just the things that grew naturally in the fall and could go back to nature when it was all over. Even the wreaths on all the doors in Cider Mill Farm were made out of corn husks that could be tossed into the woodlands behind Cider Mill Farm without harming the environment.

On his way to the produce section, Luis passed a display of homemade Pennsylvania Dutch apple butter and he put four jars into his cart. He'd never had apple butter; he wasn't even sure what it was. It didn't look like a dairy product. But the little bell-shaped jars with checkered lids and bright green bows looked so festive he couldn't resist. He would line them up on the kitchen window sill over the sink, along with the miniature pumpkins and gourds. His handyman, Cory, would think he'd lost his mind. Cory had already said there was so much Thanksgiving stuff around the house it was hard to move without something getting in the way. But Luis knew what he was doing. This Thanksgiving was the first holiday that Barry wouldn't be with them and it wasn't going to be easy for anyone. Luis figured that if he made Cider Mill Farm look as festive and cheerful as possible, it might make things easier on everyone. He especially wanted it easier for Jase, Mary, and Isabelle.

When he noticed the tall display of Pennsylvania Dutch spice cookies, he grabbed a few boxes of them, too. He also picked up two large wet bottom shoo-fly pies and set them in his cart. He wouldn't eat them himself, but he knew Jase and Hunter would smile and fill their bellies. Though Luis usually frowned upon sugary snacks for Hunter, he'd already decided to let his rules slide a little over the Thanksgiving holiday. Hunter's private school had off the whole week before Thanksgiving, and Luis and Jase had cleared their calendars. Though they went out to Cider Mill Farm every weekend, this was the first full week they would actually spent in the country since last year and Luis wanted it to be a relaxed time, without any pressure.

By the time Luis glanced down at his shopping list, he realized his cart was almost full and he still hadn't picked up the three things on his list he'd come in for. He had to get fresh cranberries, those cute little watermelon radishes Jase loved so much, and about eight loaves of this special Pennsylvania Dutch corn bread made with yeast that was only sold at Lapp's Market. The corn bread was for the turkey stuffing that Isabelle was going to make, and Luis wanted to buy it early so he could put it in a large basket and let it get stale before Wednesday.

After Luis found the three things on his list, he had to go to the butcher's counter to double check that the free-range organic turkey he'd ordered would be ready on time. This year he'd ordered a twenty-eight-pound bird. They were having a lot of people at Cider Mill Farm and Luis didn't want to take any chances. Aside from Luis, Jase, Hunter, and Isabelle, Mary and Preston were flying in. Luis's identical twin brother, Gage, was driving out from New York on Wednesday. Gage had started nursing school in New York and Luis hadn't seen much of him since last summer. Then there was Cory the handyman, who was Gage's boyfriend now. They'd been seeing each other since summer and they seemed to be getting along very well.

Luis also had to invite his two neighbors at the end of the easement road, The Reverend von Klingensmith and Ted Barker. Even though Ted Barker had slept with Gage one time, they'd worked it all out and there would be no awkwardness. Luis had also invited their good friends, Josh and Roland, their son Justin, and his mother Hillary. Besides them, Luis had invited Ben and Percy from New York, too. They weren't the best of friends anymore, but Luis didn't want them spending Thanksgiving alone in New York. On top of all this, Rand and Rob, their good friends from California, were arriving on Wednesday morning. Altogether, this was one of the largest crowds Luis had ever cooked for and he didn't want any mistakes.

As Luis rounded the produce aisle, he smiled at a nice middle-aged gay couple who were filling their cart with cans of pumpkin puree they'd been picking out of a large straw-lined bin with an orange gingham ribbon border. It was the fifth gay couple Luis had noticed since he'd entered the market. Another reason why Luis loved Lapp's Market so much was because it catered to a lot of the gay couples in Bucks County. Many were weekenders from New York or Philadelphia just like him. Though the prices were slightly higher than the local supermarkets, the festive country atmosphere drew a more refined crowd that seemed to crave and appreciate a slower pace. There were no coupons or blue-light special deals, but there was peace of mind, which to Luis was worth far more than fifty cents off a can of tomatoes. Luis worked so hard sometimes his body twitched at night when he climbed into bed, and he liked that kind of relaxation when he wasn't working. At Lapp's Market, shopping became more of an event to look forward to than a chore. And it was hard to beat the fresh organic fruits and veggies, not the mention the quality of the meats and baked goods.

When Luis reached the meat counter, he glanced into the back room where the butchers worked and smiled at one of the humpy Lapp sons. This market was a family-owned business and every single member of the Lapp family worked there in one capacity or another. The mother and sisters baked pies and bread and cakes. The father and brothers did everything from meat to produce. There were aunts, uncles, and cousins; grandparents and great aunts.

But Luis's favorite Lapp was the cute young guy at the meat counter. He was about six feet tall, with short dark hair and deep brown eyes. Although he always wore a white apron, it was evident he had a muscular, stocky body, with a nice, firm bubble ass. He also had large hands and thick fingers, two traits in a man Luis that made Luis's knees weak. When he smiled at Luis, he had two dimples that made him look sweet and innocent.

Luis wasn't sure if the Lapp family was true Amish or not, and there was no way he could ask without coming off as obnoxious. He'd never seen any of the Lapps ride buggies or horses. They seemed to embrace electricity and modern conveniences fairly well. But the women did wear those cute little white caps and long cotton dresses, and some of the men did have those sexy, thick Abe Lincoln beards without mustaches. Luis knew this was kinky; he knew it was wrong and he'd probably go to hell for thinking it. But there was something about the Amish men with those beards that made him want to pull down his pants, wrap his legs around them, and go for a horse-and-buggy ride while he gorged on wet bottom shoo-fly pie.

The Lapp boy at the meat counter, Bobby, didn't have a beard, though. His handsome face was clean shaven and his haircut looked more expensive than Luis's. Luis noticed his watch was a Movado and he wore an expensive gold ring on his right pinkie with a stone that looked like a yellow diamond. There was a white diamond in his left ear. When Bobby spotted Luis peering over the glass meat counter, he set down the raw chicken he was dismembering and wiped his large hands on a rag. He crossed to the counter and smiled. “What can I do for you today, Mr. Fortune? I'm all yours.”