Sugar and Gold

by Brea Viragh

  I took the insult to heart. “I have more humility in my pinkie finger than you do in your entire body.” Said appendage flashed in front of him. If I accomplished nothing else, I had to take control of the situation. Needed to feel the reins in my hands before the horse bolted. “Sure, what happened to you was horrible. I’m sorrier for it than I’ve been for anything in my life. You don’t need to go around making my days a living hell. No matter what excuses you give.”

  His face darkened. “Pardon me?”

  I disregarded the strained patience I heard. “Let me count the ways. You came into the bakery and made threats. You helped me out when I crashed, for which I thank you, then you turned around and made my life miserable with the cupcake fiasco. I thought we were making progress!”

  “You’re taking things out of context.” Isaac raised a hand to circle my neck, then curled his fingers and lowered his arms before he could touch me. “You know what? Excuse me for being concerned about your welfare. It’s obvious you are so deeply wrapped up in your own paranoia and self-importance you can’t see what’s in front of your face.”

  “And what is in front of my face?” I asked, hands going to my hips in a clear challenge. “Please enlighten me.”

  His gaze was fierce and glittering with amusement. “It’s the same problem you’ve had since I met you. The blinders are on so tight you can see maybe a foot in front of your face but nowhere else. Friends, family, they all fall behind those blinders in your quest for gratification. Your need for control.”

  “None of that is true,” I tossed back.

  “Your opinion. It doesn’t discount your unwillingness to help others.”

  I gasped. “I help plenty of people! Then you came along,” I poked a finger at his chest, “to mess everything up. To throw a monkey wrench in my plans and torment me with your presence.”

  He caught my wrist before the next round of jabs, those long fingers tightening their hold. Suddenly my interest in the confrontation dissipated. I wanted nothing more than to escape to the car, throw it into gear, and tear away from this place. From him.

  His free hand moved to lift my chin, brushing his fingers along my cheekbones and up toward the bruises on my scalp.

  The feelings slowly rising inside of me, so effortlessly, were a danger to consider. Though I tried to tell myself it was a natural response to his deep voice, the gentle pulse of his fingers on my skin, it wasn’t those individual things. It was the sum of those parts. It was everything. It was him.

  “You are nothing but a pest, you know that? A damn pest I wish I could get rid of,” he muttered. “I’m tired of you coming in and making a mess of my life.”

  I sighed, the sound sharp. “I may be a pest, but you’re trouble.”

  His eyes deepened and smoldered at the words. The pad of his index finger found my pulse point and lingered there.

  I jerked when he tugged me closer. “What the hell are you doing?” My tongue wet my lips and it felt like a toddler began to somersault in my stomach.

  “I’m teaching you a lesson.”

  My temper rose in response, blotting out all caution. “Like you’re some big macho man.” I shook the wrist he held. “I’m immune to your kind, mister.”

  Despite the insult, his mouth curved in a soft grin before his lips took mine, rough, demanding. His infuriated need seared everything in its path. I struggled for a moment before he brought me to his chest, pinning me against a wall of muscle and grasping my arms between us.

  Long fingers shifted to wrap around my neck and lift my chin for easier access.

  Biting his lip only paused Isaac in his plunder. When our mouths crashed together again I recognized the undertow. Felt myself going under and hated my compliance. No, not my fault. His, I told myself. I hated him.

  The kiss took a nosedive from punishing to demanding. His tongue swept inside my mouth and I forgot about my anger, reveling in the taste of him. The earthy smell and softness of his skin.

  He kept his embrace hard and, despite myself, I stopped struggling. Leaned into him and tilted my head to bring the kiss deeper. Tension, frustration, they both vibrated between us, my heart thudding against my chest.

  In one swift move, Isaac swiveled around, shallow steps taking us to the left until my shoulders hit the wall beside the door, and I had no choice but to hold onto his shoulders to stay upright.

  Passion rose and my chances of escape diminished, my desire to leave forgotten under a haze of lust. Seriously, it was ridiculous. I had no self-control where Isaac was concerned.

  It felt good. Too damn good for my own...well, good. Lost in him, the sweep of his tongue brought me to staggering heights and a gasp rose before I had a chance to stifle the sound.

  Isaac used his knee to nudge my legs apart and then he pressed between them. “You want to watch how you play with fire, sugar. Learn how far to push before I push you back.” His breath came in gasps as he dove again, capturing me tighter than shackles.

  Refusing to let go.

  His lips teased and touched, probed and plundered. Stuck between the proverbial rock and a hard place—the wall at my back, and Isaac Howard at my front—there was nowhere to go. I trembled, trapped against him, adrift in his taste.

  Somewhere along the line the fire in my belly melted into something besides anger: lust. A more potent drug I’d never come across. I moaned against his touch and the sizzling trail of his fingers along the lines of exposed skin.

  Mint, sage, and lavender perfumed the air, traveling on heated waves. My head spiraled toward the clouds.

  “Isaac,” I murmured when his teeth scraped my chin and sent a shiver down to my core. His stubble burned along my cheeks, stoking flames and causing my legs to turn gooey. I had wondered about his embrace, once upon a time. Like one of those girls in the movies, contemplating their future husbands and writing their initials down on notebook paper.

  I’d understood how they felt even when it was a fantasy. I needed to get a grip and focus on something other than Isaac and his very manly parts. There may have been a future for us if I hadn’t flushed it away. Now there was no hope, although try telling my quickly flooding lady business a firm no.

  “We can’t do this.”

  “Can’t do what?” He leaned back and leveled a look on me. Potent enough to shiver me timbers.

  “This!”

  He murmured an assent and continued his assault on me, those lips unrelenting. Portions of my internal clockwork woke after what seemed an over-long hibernation. Warmed under his ministrations until I would have given anything to let go. Let go of whatever strain I held, all the pressure that came with holding on too tight. I’d never been good at releasing the reins and now, despite the little voice in my brain warning me away, reminding me of what and who Isaac was, I yearned for the liberation.

  “Please,” I begged. For what, I wasn’t sure.

  His mouth drew an inferno wherever it touched, and the press of his chest had me wanting to rip off my shirt and proclaim it National Isaac Day. The man had magic in him and, if he continued the way he was, I’d soon be eating out of the palm of his hand.

  Those fingers found the tender spot on my hairline and I gasped against the pain. Breaking away, I found myself again. A final tug at the shreds of sanity I had left saw me pulling away, pushing him aside when I wanted to pull him closer, tangle my fingers in the soft cotton of his shirt.

  “Are you all right? What the hell is on your scalp?” Isaac asked, concern flashing across his face. “A cut?”

  I held up a hand between us. Reality was back in place, where it belonged. “Don’t touch me,” I demanded roughly. “Damn you, man, don’t ever touch me like that again.”

  He moved closer and I made a show of stepping aside, playing with my hair. “You’re obviously in pain. Essie—”

  I cut him off with a slice of my arm before bending to pick up the forgotten ball of paper. “No. Don’t say my name like we’ve just come out of bed together. You should
be ashamed of yourself.”

  Isaac chuckled, his face holding a faint I’ve-got-you-cornered look I recognized well. “One day, rest assured, I’ll have you in my bed. I’ll take you any way I can. If it means you’re kicking and biting, then so be it.”

  A picture of the two of us together flashed across the empty space of my mind. Frightened by the startling clarity of it, I raced from Isaac and down the front porch steps, taking care not to trip in my hasty retreat.

  “You stay away from me,” I called over my shoulder. My stomach plummeted to my toes, slipping out from beneath me. Isaac and I together? No, thank you.

  “Might be hard to do.” Isaac wiped his lips and smiled at me with heavy-lidded eyes. “I plan to stay close to you, Miss Townsend. And I plan to kiss you many, many more times.”

  “You know what they say about best-laid plans,” I retorted.

  “We know what they say about the little girl who played with fire, too.”

  I opened my mouth to reply and promptly snapped it closed again. Flying down the short path to my car, I twisted into the seat, backing down the drive amidst the rough strains of his laughter.

  I DROPPED THE SUBJECT of the threatening text. There was no time for me to separate my thoughts and concerns, my needs and feelings. The boundaries I’d designated for those things had blurred. The boxes in my mind were no longer in order. There were no excuses to offer. I didn’t have the energy. Not now.

  With everything going on, there was little time to waste dealing with pranks.

  We’d need to have a sit-down soon, Isaac and I, a real one where there were no body parts touching and no kissing allowed. Maybe a football field between us. Unfortunately, the rest of me didn’t seem quite ready to attack him the way he deserved. More like the way my girlie parts wanted, those disloyal pieces of anatomy. If I hadn’t known any better, I’d say Isaac had used his sensuality as a weapon against me. It was almost worse than the text.

  Then I remembered the announcement from the Health Department.

  “Shit!” I beat my hand against the steering wheel, the woman in a passing car eyeing my meltdown and subsequent horn-honking.

  I reached my customary parking spot beside the bakery, still out of breath and fighting my inner demons with tooth and claw. Tears wanted to come, so I forced them down without allowing room for interruption. Really, this was ridiculous. What kind of woman wants to cry after a kiss? One who had a couple of huge honkin’ mental issues, apparently.

  “Get it together,” I admonished myself. “Crying isn’t going to fix your problems.”

  Though it sure would feel good.

  Niggling doubts in the back of my head had me hoping I hadn’t made the situation worse. Would Isaac retaliate because of my intrusion? Maybe think of new and different devices of torture? I would hate to go home and find my house had been set on fire. And I thought his kisses were bad.

  Why had I given into temptation! Damn it, I let my nerves get the best of me and now I was in a pickle. Awkward didn’t even begin to cover how I felt. A burp rose in my gut and I struggled to contain it. Fear burps. Thank God I hadn’t burped right into Isaac’s mouth.

  And what a sweet mouth it had been.

  “No!” I exploded aloud this time, my fist coming down on the steering wheel again.

  Parking the car next to Leda’s, I took a moment to calm my heart. Still my lungs to not-about-to-have-a-stroke speed before going inside under the scrutiny of staff and customers. Never again could I allow my strength to disappear. I would not be suckered in by a pretty face and a mouth made for sin.

  Hands balled into fists for the umpteenth time, I burst through the door and stomped my way toward the front, lungs catching and my throat parched and raw. The cool air from the wall unit did little to calm my shaking limbs or cut through the haze of anxiety.

  “Hey, are you available to—” Leda began, wrapping an expertly crafted mini tart when I came through the swinging doors.

  I cut her off, sparing a smile to the young couple in front of the counter before pushing into my office. And nearly tripping on the baby gate she’d installed to keep the dog confined. Once inside, I fell into my chair, chucking my phone aside and ducking my head down on cool wood. I beat it once, twice, before a stabbing pain reverberated through my neck.

  Isaac was back in my life because I’d allowed it. I wouldn’t after this; no matter how he huffed, or puffed, or tried to blow anything, I would be tough. There was no sense in letting myself fall for a man who tried to hurt me. Was that what I’d done...fallen?

  I hadn’t had those feelings for him in a long time, not since the first inkling of interest blossomed to life our senior year of high school. Which meant the attraction was dead and gone. So dead and gone I—

  “Ooh boy.” Leda stood with the door half open and just stared at me.

  I wiped my forehead with the back of my hand. Snuffled to hide my emotions. Bent down to give Frank a pat when he walked over to sniff my feet. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “I know where you ran to, but what happened?” Leda asked, the interest palpable in her voice. She leaned against the doorway, one hip angled to the side and the opposite eyebrow elevated.

  “I did bad.”

  “Everyone does bad, now and again.” Her way of opening the doors of conversation. Then her face went black. “What did you do?”

  My façade of long-suffering victim slipped a little as the frustration surfaced. I rested my head on my fisted hand and closed my eyes. “I’ll have to tell you when I’m sure.”

  Leda cleared her throat. “Did you get involved with him? Damn, Essie, I told you to give him what-for. Not...whatever it was you did. Although I have a few guesses. What with the fresh hickey on your neck.”

  I slapped a hand against my neck, throat clearing more for effect than anything else. Here’s hoping I didn’t choke on it. “It’s a rash.”

  “I heard they’re going around these days.” There was a quick tightening of the muscles around her eyes. A lift to her chin, head tilting back almost imperceptibly. A rapid blink. Leda wasn’t too happy with me. Not one iota.

  I stood and breezed past her before donning an apron once more, glancing around at the work she’d done in my absence. “You haven’t finished any of the blood orange poppy seed cupcakes,” I said.

  “You’ve been gone for half an hour. How long do you think it takes to bake, decorate, and repeat?” she answered sharply.

  Of course. I felt like slapping myself, and allowed an annoyed sigh to slip through my chapped lips. Better to resign myself to a day of confusion now than get my hopes up for clarity. “Sorry, my mind is up in the clouds.”

  “It must be.” Leda’s voice was muffled as she bent to rummage through a cabinet for cupcake liners.

  My eyes drifted away to the front where I prayed for the bell above the door to ding. “It’s nothing. Let’s get to work on the next batch.”

  “You seriously want to work after coming in here with your hair looking like you stuck a finger in a light socket?”

  I smoothed those runaway strands, biting my lip and striving for calm. “Yeah, I want to work. I never let anything come between me and the job in need of doing. What else do we have on the list?”

  Leda smirked at me under the fringe of her bangs. “Right. The list. Let’s talk outside first, shall we?”

  “I’d rather not.” I shook my head, avoiding her probing gaze.

  “Please?”

  There was no debating with her. She grabbed my shoulder as she passed, swiveling me around on feet tethered to the ground. I forced a smile before walking out into the burgeoning autumn. Already the scent of brisk decay filled the air. It reminded me of Isaac. Rich, decadent, thrilling. I remembered the feel of him when he...

  Hell to the no and beyond.

  “I went to Isaac’s house, okay? And I didn’t resort to physical violence,” I began when Leda reached for the backdoor handle to close it. “That’s all you need to
know.” I kept my nose pointed to the ceiling. I would not let anyone see the ruffle in my feathers. Let them see the way he knocked me off the balance beam of comfort and kept me guessing. On edge. And as much as it cost me to admit, intrigued.

  She sighed, a sure sign she was about to burst into a litany of the things I should have said, and glanced over her shoulder at me. When she spoke, her voice was narrow. “I still think you should be careful with him. There’s no evidence pointing to him as the culprit behind your attack, but there’s no evidence absolving him, either. I mean, how much do you know about him anymore?”

  “Please don’t yell at me.”

  “I’m not going to yell at you for being attracted to someone.”

  “I am not attracted to him!” I didn’t have to try hard for offended. This time the look came easily. “I was a perfect lady.” For a grand total of three seconds. “I simply went over there and gave him what’s what.” Schooling my face into a mask of pure innocence, I strove to meet her eyes at last.

  There was a delay in her reaction. “I want you to be safe. Playing with fire isn’t the best way to do it,” Leda commented in an odd parody of Isaac’s earlier words.

  “I’m fine,” I answered. “I know Isaac, and I know what he’s capable of. I might have been worried before. I’m just—” What? I wondered. Upset? Hurt? Aroused? “I’m just feeling a little off because of my accident. A lot of things are going on at once, crazy, horrible circumstances, and I’m—” My hands floated toward the clouds of their own accord before dropping to my sides. Who was I kidding? If not literally, then metaphorically... “—I’m fucked.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  I watched a flock of crows wing their way across the treetops. From my front porch, I surveyed the land, a captain at the helm of her ship with waves of pine rolling out beneath. The crows changed their course and circled around toward the fields on the other end of the property. There were no wildflowers now, their blooms spent and the grass in need of cutting.