A Recipe for Love: A Sweet Collection

by LYNN, K. C.

His low whimper sounds from my room.

  I start down the hall, a familiar feelin’ tugging at me, one that has alarm bells banging inside of my chest. My steps slow, becoming more cautious as I reach my room and push open the door. I flick on the light and find Chuckie hiding under my bed, his sweet head poking out from beneath it.

  “Hey, you. What’s wrong?”

  His whimpering becomes louder as he crawls out, limping his way over to me. I start toward him, concern plaguing me. The moment I reach him, I catch movement to my left, a dark figure emerging from my closet.

  A scream rips from my throat, fear fueling my speed as I charge from my room. I don’t make it far before a force knocks into me from behind, tackling me to the ground in my living room. My face hits the side of my coffee table, the impact splitting my cheek open. Pain explodes through my head as I’m flipped to my back.

  A man with black hair and hauntingly familiar dark eyes straddles me, his hand wrapping around my throat, pinning me where I lie. “Ah, Grace, we finally meet. You have no idea how long I’ve waited for this moment.”

  A loud snarl penetrates the air seconds before Chuckie attacks him, sinking his teeth into his neck. The intruder howls in pain and sends Chuckie flying across the room. He lands on his back, his yelp infiltrating my terrified heart. When the man pulls a gun, it stops beating altogether.

  “No!” I reach for his arm the same time the deadly weapon fires off, a bullet penetrating my dog.

  An agonized scream pours from my mouth, a sob shattering my chest. I claw the huge gash on the side of his neck in retaliation, my fingers gripping the raw flesh.

  He falls to the side, cupping the bloody wound.

  I roll over and push to my feet only to have him snag my ankle, ripping my foot out from beneath me. I face plant onto the floor and the metallic taste of blood fills my mouth.

  “You bitch!” He delivers a few heart-stopping blows before flipping me to face him again, jamming the barrel of his gun against my forehead. His eyes are wild and furious. “I’m going to make this as painful as possible.”

  “Why are you doing this?” I sob, confused as to who this man is and why he wants to hurt me.

  “You haven’t figured it out yet? Come on, Grace. I thought you were smarter than this. I look exactly like my brothers.”

  My heart stops, body going still beneath his. I peer up into his haunting eyes and finally realize why they are so familiar. “Miguel’s brother?” I whisper.

  “You guessed it. Another brother that no one knows about. I grew up in Missouri, with my whore of a mother who got knocked up by the same man who fathered my brothers.”

  My mind spins with what he reveals.

  “I had just finished high school when my brother found me and asked me to come to Florida to be a family with him and Emilio.” A distant look enters his crazy eyes as he takes a trip down memory lane but fury quickly enters them once again. “But then you had to go and fuck it all up. Emilio is dead because of you,” he screams. “And now, Miguel is back in prison, after all of my hard work of getting him out!”

  Everything becomes achingly clear. “It was you. You killed the forensic scientist.”

  “You’re damn right I did. The plan was three years in the making. Judge Robinson was such an easy target. Get some drinks into that guy and put some pussy in front of him and I got all the pictures I needed to blackmail him. It was fucking brilliant. Until you had to go and fuck it all up,” he rages, his expression hardening. “You keep taking my family from me!”

  I gape up at him, my eyes widening at the irony of his statement. “I took your family from you? Your brothers murdered the only family I had!” Tears of sorrow track down my cheeks as I’m forced to relive that fateful day. “My beautiful, kind mother was raped and stabbed thirty-seven times by your fucking family!” I scream, anger replacing my hurt. “Emilio deserved to die and so does Miguel. I hope they both rot in hell.”

  His hand wraps around my throat, cutting off my air supply. “The only person who’s going to burn in hell is you, bitch! Right along with your mother.”

  I struggle beneath his gripping hold, clawing at his hands as I fight for air. Darkness hovers within my vision but it fades when a loud knock sounds upon my door.

  “Grace, baby, open up!”

  Sawyer.

  My mouth opens to scream but his hand slams over top of it with brutal force. “Shut up. Or I swear to God I will drive a bullet through his fucking skull.”

  Just the thought has a gut-wrenching sob ripping from me.

  “Grace, I mean it. I’m not going anywhere until you hear me out.”

  Miguel’s brother stares down at me, indecision battling in his calculating eyes. “Get rid of him,” he orders. “Or he’s dead. Got it?”

  I nod, my eyes closing on a silent prayer that I can find a way out of this.

  I bite back a cry when I’m pulled to my feet by my hair. He yanks me back against him, his mouth pointed at my ear. “Not one wrong move.” He pushes me ahead of him, his gun pressing into the back of my head.

  My forehead rests on the door, fingers gripping the handle. “Sawyer?” His name falls on a sob before I can stop it.

  “Grace, baby, please don’t cry,” he pleads, remorse thick in his voice. “Let me in. Give me a chance to explain.”

  I shake my head, wishing I’d never gotten angry with him in the first place. It all seems so stupid now. I swallow back my fear and pull myself together while I think of a way out of this. “You need to go.”

  “I’m not leaving until you hear me out!”

  The gun presses harder into my head, turning the cold blood in my veins to ice.

  “Please. Just go back to Cooper’s. We can talk about what happened with Kayla in the morning.”

  Silence greets me beyond the door, giving me a small measure of hope that he catches on.

  “Fine, tomorrow. But I want you to know I’m not going anywhere. This is far from over.” His shoes pound the cement steps with his descent. Seconds later, the sound of his truck roars to life, sending a heavy dose of fear in me.

  Where’s he going?

  Before I can think about it, I’m yanked backwards by my hair and backhanded across the face, the force of it knocking me to the ground. I don’t even have time to get my bearings before the bastard is on top of me again, his crushing weight pinning me to the floor.

  Beads of sweat dot his forehead, his face pale as blood spills from the gash in his neck. “Time for you to suffer the same fate as your mother, just like Miguel wanted.” He sets the gun next to my head, his fingers wrapping around my throat while his other hand moves to the V-neck of my thin sweater. “After I’m done fucking you, I’m going stab you thirty-eight times instead of the thirty-seven your mom got. The last one will be for Emilio.”

  An uncontrollable rage grips me, overriding my fear. I fight back with every bit of strength I possess, refusing to be his victim.

  Never again!

  My fingernails gouge his face, drawing more blood. “Get off of me!”

  His hand tightens around my throat, cruelly robbing me of air. He’s strong, so strong, but I don’t give up.

  I will never give up.

  An enraged roar penetrates the blood rushing in my ears. One minute his weight is crushing me, his hand roughly grabbing at my clothes, then the next I feel nothing, my hands only hitting air.

  “Motherfucker!”

  Rolling to the side, I see Sawyer on top of him, his expression savage as he delivers blow after blow, his fists fast and deadly.

  I open my mouth to speak but find I can’t, my throat on fire as I try to inhale the air my lungs so desperately crave.

  Sawyer pulls a gun out from behind him, shoving it under his chin. “Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t blow your fucking brains out right now.”

  Oh God.

  “Don’t!” I choke out.

  He ignores me, his arm shaking with restraint. “Who the fuck are you?”
<
br />   The man’s beaten and bloody face splits into a gory smile. “I’m the guy who’s going to chop your girlfriend into a million—”

  His words die when Sawyer rears back and knocks him out with the butt of his gun. I sit stunned, my body trembling violently as I try to process the last few minutes.

  Sawyer’s head turns, his eyes meeting mine and thunderous expression softening. “Jesus, Grace, are you okay?” he asks, approaching me cautiously.

  I meet him halfway, a sob tearing from my throat as he pulls me into his arms. “Thank God you came,” I cry against his chest, my fingers gripping his shirt. “I tried to fight but I couldn’t get him off.”

  “It’s okay, baby. You did good.” Pulling back, he cradles my face, his eyes assessing my injuries, jaw clenching in fury. “I’m so fucking sorry. I shouldn’t have left you.”

  “No. It’s not your fault. I don’t even know how he got in. He was hiding in my closet when I got home, and Chuckie—” I gasp, rememberin’ the bullet that struck him. Pushing away from Sawyer, I crawl across the room, rushing to his side where I find him lying in a pool of his own blood. Another sob flees me, mixing with relief when I see his belly rising and falling, his breathing labored. “Sawyer, we have to get him help. Hurry!”

  He kneels next to me, placing the gun at my side as he removes his shirt and balls it up, pressing it against Chuckie’s wound. “Hold this here. I’m going to get more towels. Police and ambulance are already on their way,” he says, walking into my kitchen.

  I bury my face into Chuckie’s neck, my tears falling into his soft fur. “It’s okay, boy, just hold on.”

  Police sirens pierce the air, announcing help’s arrival. I push to my feet with the intention to open the door for them but Sawyer’s warning shout stops me cold.

  “Get down!”

  Turning, I see Miguel’s brother conscious, his gun pointed directly at me.

  “Fuck!”

  It happens so fast—I hear the blast just as Sawyer slams into me, taking me to the ground.

  The breath gets knocked out of my lungs in one painful swoosh. His hard body covers me as he grabs the gun next to us and shoots Miguel’s brother in the head.

  Deafening silence falls around us, my ears aching from the loud shots.

  Sawyer rolls off me with a groan and that’s when I see I’m covered in blood. My hands frantically search myself, trying to see where I was hit. It doesn’t take me long before I realize it’s not my blood. Sawyer clutches his shoulder, blood pouring between his fingers.

  “Sawyer!” I sit up in a panic, my hand going over his, helping apply pressure. “Oh god, oh no.”

  My door busts open, five uniformed officers charging in, guns drawn. One of them is Cooper, his concerned eyes taking in Sawyer and me.

  “Get paramedics in here now!” He drops to my side and removes my hands from Sawyer’s gaping wound. “What the hell happened?”

  “The fucker shot me,” Sawyer explains through gritted teeth.

  “Because you threw yourself in front of his bullet, ya idiot! What were you thinkin’?” I yell, even though what I really want to do is kiss the hell out of him.

  “I was saving your sweet ass, Cupcake.” He sucks in a sharp breath when Cooper adds more pressure to his wound.

  “Did the bullet go through?” Cooper asks.

  He shakes his head, his jaw locked tight.

  “Oh god! I’m so sorry,” I cry, resting my forehead on his. “I love you so much. Please don’t die.”

  “I’m not going to die, baby, it just hurts like a motherfucker.”

  The paramedics enter and force me to the side while they work on Sawyer. Cooper orders for Chuckie to get help too and be taken to the animal hospital. He offers to go deal with it so I can stay with Sawyer. My heart breaks, hating that they’re both suffering because they saved me.

  The rest of the night happens in a blur. All of our friends wait with me at the hospital, their concern as great as my own as Sawyer enters surgery to have the bullet removed. I feel numb, time becoming nothing more than an afterthought as I think about all that happened tonight.

  Kayla and Julia sit on either side of me, their arms wrapped around my shoulders as tears continue to stream down my face.

  “Can I get you anything?” Kayla asks. “Some tea maybe?”

  I shake my head, emotion robbing me of speech. The thought of anything in my mouth right now has me feeling nauseous. I excuse myself to use the restroom, needing a moment to collect my thoughts but on the way I find Cade down one of the hallways, pacing relentlessly.

  His head shoots up, concerned eyes meeting mine, and his usual hard expression softens. Well, soft for Cade. Both of our worry and pain is apparent, written all over our faces and passing back and forth in the silent exchange between us.

  Stepping forward, I wrap my arms around his waist, burying my face in his chest.

  He tenses only for a brief second before hugging me back. “He’s going to be okay, Grace. I’ve been trying to get rid of the fucker since I was eight years old, he’s not going anywhere.”

  For the first time tonight, I smile, rememberin’ Sawyer’s story about the two of them. I pray he’s right, because if not, if I lose Sawyer too, I won’t survive it.

  Grace

  The distant sound of a door clicking shut pulls me from sleep and all last night’s events come flooding back with a vengeance. My eyes spring open and I sit up quickly, wincing at the tightness in my muscles but my pain fades when I lay eyes on Sawyer. He sits up in his hospital bed, a sexy smile on his handsome face.

  “Hey, Cupcake.”

  The sound of his voice and sight of his smirk has my heavy heart swelling in my chest. I get up from my chair next to his bed and come to sit beside him, my hand moving to the side of his face. “Hey. How are you feeling?”

  “Like I’ve been shot,” he says, amusement dancing in his eyes, but I find none of it funny. His smirk fades as he pulls my hand from the side of his face and kisses the inside of my wrist. “I’m okay, Grace. Doctors say I’ll be good as new in a few weeks.”

  “Thank God for that,” I whisper.

  His eyes wander over my bruised face, expression hardening.

  “It looks worse than it feels.”

  “You shouldn’t have a single fucking mark marring you,” he grits out. “It shouldn’t have happened.”

  “You’re right. It shouldn’t have but it could have been so much worse if you wouldn’t have shown up,” I tell him. “You saved my life, Sawyer.”

  Hooking a hand behind my neck, he reels me in close. “I’ll always save you, Cupcake.”

  My eyes close, lips pressing against his, the contact penetrating my soul and wrapping around it like a peaceful blanket. It terrifies me to think how close I came to never feeling this again.

  Eventually, I pull back, resting my forehead on his. “Was someone just here?” I ask, remembering the sound of the door closing.

  “Yeah it was Cade. He brought something by for me. Said they tried to make you leave last night to get rest but you wouldn’t go.”

  “I’m not leavin’ without you. Except to go check on Chuckie. But then I’ll be coming right back.”

  He smirks. “How’s he doing?”

  “Healing, like you,” I say, feeling grateful for that.

  “Good.”

  “Do you need anything?” I ask.

  “Just you, baby.”

  I swallow past the lump in my throat, my heart warming and breaking at the same time. “I’m so sorry I got mad at you,” I choke out sadly, speaking out the biggest regret I have from last night. “I was just hurt. You promised me you wouldn’t ever go there.”

  “I know, but I had to. I couldn’t let him get away with hurting you like that. He had to pay for what he did.”

  “Please tell me you didn’t kill him.”

  As much as I hate Earl, the last thing I need is to lose Sawyer to a federal prison.

  “I didn’t kill him.
I just roughed him up a bit…and I might have fucked up his truck,” he adds, with a sly grin.

  “You didn’t.” I laugh, a matching smile forming on my face.

  “Yeah, baby. I smashed the fucking thing to pieces.”

  A small level of satisfaction fills me to hear that. That truck was his pride and joy, a vehicle he never deserved and used Mama’s hard-earned money for.

  “I have something for you,” he tells me, an expression adopting his face that I can’t quite name.

  “What?”

  He points over at the table beside him.

  My gaze follows his finger, and I gasp, my breath completely seizing my lungs as I find the one thing I thought I would never see again—my mama.

  Sawyer picks up the pearl urn and passes it to me. “This belongs to you. I hoped, after I showed you this, you would forgive me for breaking my promise.”

  My hand trembles as I take the urn from him. After all these years, I finally have my mama back. The knowledge has a sob tumbling past my lips. I hug her to my chest and cry.

  Sawyer drags his fingers across my tear-soaked cheek in a sweet gesture. “Everything’s going to be okay now, Grace. We’ll give her a nice funeral like she deserves, and you can bury her ashes, spread them, or keep them. Whatever you want to do. We will do it.”

  I shake my head, unbelieving how lucky I am to have found this man. I believe with all my heart, that Mama sent me here to Sunset Bay, not only to meet the bestest friends that I have ever had, but to find Sawyer. The only person who has reminded me what it feels like to love and be loved again. It’s something I will cherish for the rest of my life.

  Grace

  Christmas morning

  My eyes sweep open, the sound of a strong and steady heart beating beneath my cheek as I come awake, wrapped in the most amazing warmth. Once my mind clears and I become more alert, I remember what day it is and shoot up with excitement rushing through my veins.

  I’m about to jump out of bed but Sawyer grabs me around the waist and hauls me back against him. His hard, warm body curls around mine as his lips press against the side of my neck, traveling upwards.

  “Where the hell do you think you’re going, Cupcake?” he asks, the words whispering in my ear before his teeth sink into the tender flesh.