Sweet Cider Sin

by Rexi Lake

  She caught her breath for a brief moment as the thought of his hands on her body made her warm and achy. She would bet anything that he knew exactly when to be rough and when to be gentle. A man with arms like his would know his own strength. But instead of giving in to the desire she had to lean back and rub herself against him, she stepped forward, flipped her ponytail, and sent him an innocent smile.

  “To get that kind of permission from me, you’d have to be a little higher up on the food chain,” she responded. She saw the brief flash of anger that filled his eyes before he tamped it down. Before he could respond though, she darted back into the kitchen to help Lola with whatever she needed.

  “Oh, good. There you are. I need to show you how we cool and box up our pies and slices. Wait back here and I’ll be back as soon as I get Tuck his slices. He always gets one for himself and a few more for his mother. She’s such a doll. He brings her down to the city a few times a year to take her shopping. Sweetest woman you’ve ever met.”

  Olivia just nodded as Lola babbled on a bit. The woman was tying up a bag of four slices, individually packaged. It didn’t look especially difficult to her, but maybe she was missing something.

  Lola ducked away and Olivia couldn’t help but overhear as Tucker was nothing but sweet charm and friendly banter with the other woman. Who knew? Apparently he could be something other than an ass.

  Chapter Three

  Tucker climbed from his truck a little more than an hour later and found himself face to face with the woman who raised him.

  “Tucker! I was wondering if you were ever coming back.”

  “Really, Mom?”

  Tucker shook his head and grinned. At only five-foot-one, his mother was tiny. But her voice could carry across an acre of apple trees when she wanted it to. The woman was a force. Tuck had gotten his blue eyes from her, but the rest of his looks came directly from his dad. His father was a big brute of a man - tall, dark-haired, and built like an ox. Tucker knew it came from working the farm just like he did. When the family business is linked directly to physical labor and a love of the land, there’s nothing to say to get out of doing the same chores.

  “Here you go, mom. Fresh from the ovens just before I left the city.” He handed her the bag and pressed a kiss to her cheek.

  “Oh,” she swatted at him as she took the bag and smiled. “Your father is still out in the fields right now. Can you come in and tell me about the news? Anything happening in the city that I should know about?”

  Tucker grinned. His mother was a die hard junkie for gossip. In fact, she was considered a walking tabloid herself when it came to their small town.

  “Well, apparently La Dame is in town.”

  “I know that, Tucker. You had an order for the hotel today. She always lets them buy it when she stays there and they don’t buy from us otherwise. Stuck up snobs.” She muttered the last under her breath.

  “Mom!” Tuck laughed as she gave him a side-eyed look.

  “What?” She waved a hand through the air, brushing away his laugh. “Come on. I know you could use some of my fresh apple iced tea. Then you can tell me the real news.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” he said, following her into the house. He wondered if he should tell her about Olivia Vivienne Marsten working at the Bad Apple. It was certainly something that was news, but something held him back. Maybe it was that slight flash of uncertainty that he’d seen when he’d first recognized her. Or it might just be the fact that he wanted to fuck her while he had her bent over one of those tables when she’d been waving her ass in his face.

  He groaned in his head as that thought filtered through. The woman was exactly the kind he liked - feisty and sharp-tongued with the type of body that begged for some manhandling. And he was fairly certain she felt the same. He wondered when his next delivery into the city would be. He needed to check the schedules. Or maybe he’d just have to take a trip in for himself. He had a day off coming up. Well, an afternoon off. He never got a real day off unless he was out of town. The farm was still a farm and those that worked the fields would always have daily chores.

  “Tucker!” His mother’s voice came from the kitchen.

  He walked through the house to the bright and open space that was his mother’s domain. When his grandparents had retired and left the farm for sunny Florida, his dad had remodeled the kitchen. Now, his mother had room enough to can, squeeze, bake, and whatever else she wanted to do with the apples and other fruits and vegetables they grew for their own use. She was sitting down at the banquet table that was tucked into a corner surrounded by big windows that let in the sunshine each morning. She had two glasses full of sweet apple iced tea all ready to go.

  “Sit,” she ordered.

  Tuck grinned. “I don’t have much to say, mom. It was a fairly uneventful day.”

  Lila Hart raised a brow. “I find it hard to believe you didn’t see something.”

  He laughed and took a seat. He lifted the glass of tea and took a long sip. His family sold their cider, but the sweet apple tea his mother made was not something they shared. “All right,” he said. “I could tell you about the pompous ass of a chef at Soho House.”

  “Oh? That’s where La Dame stays. You know how she feels about rudeness.” Lila said.

  “Oh, I know. But I’m going to just let dad handle that one. The ass said he would be calling to complain about my attitude and how late I was.” Tuck snorted before he took another drink.

  “Oh, dear.” His mother shook her head. She too took a sip of the refreshing tea. “I suppose I should be ready for him to come blustering in at dinner time then.”

  “Well, at least you have some pie to enjoy.” Tuck finished his tea and stood up. “I should get out to the office and check on the orders and schedules for the rest of the week.”

  “Okay, sweetheart.” She smiled at him. “I have to get dinner going soon. I’ll need you to bring me about ten pounds of apples when you come back. I told your father this morning, but if he gets a call like you said, he might forget.”

  “You got it.” Tuck set his glass in the sink, then he pulled the two tabloids from his back pocket. “Here, mom. I think you might find some more interesting things in these.”

  She grabbed the papers as her face lit up. “Oh, Tucker! I thought you forgot them when they weren’t in with the pies.”

  “Have I ever forgotten your tabloids?” he asked. He bent and gave her a kiss on the cheek as she opened the first one and started reading through the stories she loved so much. “See you later, mom.”

  IT WAS THREE DAYS BEFORE he had the chance to go back into the city. La Dame had placed a special order for herself after learning about the way Tucker had been treated. Tuck grinned as he took the special order in through the front door this time. He approached the desk and waited until the man there acknowledged him.

  “Can I - er - help you?” It was obvious the concierge was a little put off by the appearance of a large man carrying a box of apples.

  “Special delivery for La Dame,” Tucker said with a smile.

  “Oh!” the man jumped a little and came scurrying around the desk. “Please, right this way,” he gestured for Tuck to follow him. He headed straight for the elevators. “Do you need help carrying them?” he asked.

  Tucker shook his head. “I’ve got them. Just tell me where to put them.”

  “La Dame asked that we bring them straight to her room. She was quite insistent on meeting the person who delivered them.”

  Tuck struggled to hold back the laugh that was bubbling up. The poor guy looked like a stick next to him, and he was obviously nervous as he punched in the button for the rooftop pool instead of a floor.

  “Oh, oh,” the man took a breath. “La Dame is currently shooting on the roof. You can leave the apples in the elevator and I will deliver them to her room while you meet with her.”

  Tuck raised a brow. “You sure she doesn’t want them for her shoot?” he asked.

  The poor man l
ooked shocked and worried as he twisted his hands. “Good point. Okay, we’ll just take you to the roof with them. I’m sure she will have further directions for us. I’m so terribly sorry about how our chef acted with you. You can be assured that he no longer works here. We have immense pride in how we treat people.”

  Yeah, Tucker was sure that was it. La Dame’s censure probably had nothing to do with the dismissal of that ass. He wanted to roll his eyes, but refrained. Keeping a straight face through it all was a little difficult, but he held back from letting his laughter out.

  Reaching the rooftop didn’t take long and as soon as Tucker stepped out into the sunshine, he understood why La Dame was so insistent on her apples this time around. He almost doubled over with laughter at the way the man’s eyes almost popped out of his face. Apparently this particular concierge had never been privy to La Dame’s photo shoots. While Tucker hadn’t seen one up close, he’d looked up some of the photos in her portfolio and this was nothing out of the ordinary.

  The pool was transformed into a giant bobbing-for-apples-esque bowl. There were at least six or seven dozen of each variety of apple that Tuck could see. And in with the apples were several models, each scantily clad in some designer’s excuse for swimwear. The bright yellow, green, and red colors with black lines denoting geometric-shaped patterns were obviously inspired by the traditional apple colors. What better way to get in La Dame’s good graces than with a line specifically geared toward her well-known favorite fruit?

  “Ah! My love! You’ve brought the apples.” La Dame’s voice was perfectly pitched to draw attention to her every word, even in the din of a large crowd.

  “La Dame,” Tucker greeted, approaching the table behind her that had enough space for the box he carried. The five dozen apples he’d brought were obviously not intended for the pool. He imagined those apples were unlikely to be used for anything once the shoot was done. It was a waste, but chlorine-soaked apples would not be edible.

  She approached and set her camera to the side as she clapped in delight at the sight of the apples he’d just set down. He just shook his head at her. La Dame was everything extravagant and exuberant. She radiated delight and excitement in everything she did and said. It was exhausting to be around her at times, but she was also a joy. And her talent and quirkiness had earned her the love of fashionistas, fashion icons, and designers across the globe.

  “Pish, you know better than to stand on ceremony with me, honey.” The tall, bleached-blonde, statuesque woman tapped him on the shoulder in rebuke. “When are you going to let me photograph you, hmmm?” she asked. She leaned around him and plucked an apple from the box. She held it up to her nose and inhaled before heaving a sigh of pleasure.

  “You know I’m not looking to be a model, D.” Tucker responded with a grin.

  “Oh, but, honey. Those muscles of yours? Why your physique is the kind many men would kill to have and quite a few women would catfight over you. You have the look.”

  Tucker shook his head. “Not happening, D. But if I ever change my mind, I’ll be sure to let you know.”

  “You do that, honey. I’d be quite put out if you let some other photographer get a chance to snap you.” She sighed dramatically. “Why are all you Hart men just so scrumptious to look at?”

  “Must be the apples,” Tuck answered, giving her a wink.

  She laughed. “Well, that may be true. Do give your mama a kiss from me, won’t you? And tell your father that I made sure to take care of that awful problem you had to deal with earlier this week.” The woman took a small bite of the apple as she wrinkled her nose. When she finished chewing, she added, “You know I absolutely detest rudeness. There is really no call for that kind of behavior.”

  “I’m aware, D. I’ll pass along the kiss and the info. Try not to run out of apples too quickly this time. You aren’t planning to use them in the pool, are you?” he asked.

  She looked horrified at the thought. “Heavens, no! I could never waste a Hart apple. They’re entirely too delicious.”

  “That’s what I thought. Well, I’ll let you get back to it before your models get hungry or your light fades. If you need more before you leave town, mom always enjoys it when you stop for a visit.”

  “Oh, I know, honey. I’m going to try. It’s been a year since I got out to the orchard. So many wonderful memories there with your mama. I’ll give her a call tonight. I’m sure she would love some inside gossip.”

  “You know her so well,” Tuck agreed.

  La Dame leaned over and pressed a kiss to his cheek before grabbing her camera and swirling back into action.

  Tuck grinned as he returned to his truck. He didn’t have any additional deliveries scheduled, so it was time to go stop in at the Bad Apple Cafe and see if his new favorite waitress was still cleaning tables.

  Chapter Four

  Three damn days. Olivia had been cleaning tables, making sandwiches, serving drinks, and burning more apple pies and cookies than she cared to count. She’d begged her father for another chance. She’d tried to just walk back into her apartment, only to be gently, but firmly, escorted from the building. She’d called Megan and tried to convince her to talk to her father. But nothing was going to sway Elias David Marsten. The man had written the book on stubborn. And now he was taking it to a whole new chapter for her.

  “Why don’t you just learn to work like the rest of us? Then you’ll have something to fall back on in the future. Plus, you know, they say the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. If we can teach you to bake, that’s all you need to land the man of your dreams!” Lola’s cheerfulness seemed to be never ending.

  “I don’t need to know how to bake when I have a personal chef, Lola,” Olivia said.

  “And what happens if your personal chef takes the day off? Or gets sick? Or, I don’t know, wins the lottery and quits on you?” Lola asked, throwing up her arms. She tossed flour into the air as she did so, since she was elbow deep in kneading dough for the Bad Apple’s famous apple pies.

  Olivia was sitting on the counter behind her, watching as Lola instructed her on the proper way to knead a lump of sticky, gooey, squishy, and all the other words to describe the weird doughy concoction in front of her. It was ten in the morning, but the place had emptied of the breakfast crowd and lunch hadn’t started to trickle in. “There’s always take out,” Olivia muttered as she brushed the flour dust from her jeans and top.

  “Livy, you need to just take this opportunity and run with it. It’s not everyday that you get the chance to mingle with us normal people. And you have to admit, there’s some perks to this job.” Lola winked at her and nodded towards the front of the building.

  “What?” Olivia frowned in confusion until she looked up and groaned. Of course. Why wouldn’t the source of her fantasies and frustrations come waltzing through the door?

  “Oh, don’t tell me you haven’t admired those muscles of his.” Lola giggled. “Be right out, Tuck,” she called loudly.

  “Finish your dough, Lola. I can grab myself some cider while I wait.” Tucker answered as he reached into the cooler behind the counter and grabbed one of the gallons of cider stored there.

  Olivia watched as he poured the drink into one of the large cups. She couldn’t deny that she had enjoyed the view. Those muscles of his were very well-defined. And when he took a drink and tipped his head back, she let her eyes wander up and watch the way the cords in his neck shifted as he swallowed.

  Damn.

  Double damn.

  He caught her looking at him and gave her a wink. “I see you’re still here, Red.”

  She sniffed and rolled her eyes. “I’ll get his order going, Lola,” she said as she hopped down from the counter. She stalked up to where he stood and pointed to the other side of the station. “Customers don’t come back here,” she told him.

  He squinted at her and looked her up and down. Once. Then again.

  “What are you doing?” she asked with annoyance.

&n
bsp; “Just checking to see if the hard work you’ve been doing is giving you hives or something. You know, being itchy can lead to irritability.”

  She huffed and swatted at him, pushing on his shoulder. “I do not have hives!” she hissed.

  He laughed and allowed her to direct him out from behind the counter. “You know, you can catch more flies with honey than with vinegar. That sassy mouth of yours could be a little sweeter, I’m sure.”

  She grinned at him with the smile of a devilish angel. “My mouth can be plenty sweet when there’s someone deserving of it,” she answered. “Now, go sit down and I’ll make your special sandwich.”

  “You say ‘special’ like it’s a bad thing.” He grabbed up his cup and sat at the table closest to the counter.

  She just rolled her eyes again and focused on building the sandwich the way Lola had shown her the first day. Three slices of cheese, two slices of apples, a splash of dijon mustard, and four folded slices of ham. She considered throwing an extra slice on to see if he even noticed, but she wasn’t sure how Lola would react if she purposely messed up an order. The woman was everything Olivia wasn’t - including conscientious about delivering wonderful service.

  SHE’D SERVED HIS SANDWICH, then disappeared into the back. Her heart was racing as she grabbed a cold bottle of water and took a long drink.

  “Uh-huh,” Lola’s voice was smug and so was her smile. “Girl, you got it bad, don’t you?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Olivia answered.

  “Sure you do,” Lola countered. “You want to jump Tucker’s bones.”

  Olivia almost spit out the sip she had just taken at Lola’s words. She recapped the bottle as she swallowed and coughed slightly. “I what?”