Sugar and Gold

by Brea Viragh

  “You are pretty,” he answered. “I’d have thought the kisses told you outright.”

  I used the hammer to point at him. “In high school, I would have killed to have you compliment me like that.”

  If my admission surprised him, he didn’t let it show. “And now?”

  “What about now?” I challenged.

  “How do you feel about me?”

  Like I shouldn’t be blurting out my personal life with so many ears close by. “The jury is still out.” I turned to stare at the barn.

  “Guess I’ll have to prove myself.”

  “Why, Isaac? Why me? Why do you care so much about what I think?” I stifled a burp.

  “I’ll be honest, there were a good many years I wanted to throttle the life out of you.”

  Weeks ago, the word throttle coming out of his mouth would have brought a tidal wave of terror. Now, I was intrigued with the path of his story. Wondering where it would lead from here.

  I watched the bob in his throat, the cord of muscle running down the side of his neck to his collarbone. “We...all have darkness,” I finally said. “I guess it was the wrong time to show mine.” I stared down at the slender arm of the hammer, wood worn smooth from years of palms. “I’ll try my best to do right by you now. Here.”

  “What?”

  I gestured toward the empty space to my right, wanting to make amends. “Slide in and we’ll tackle this side. These old doors are the worst, and will probably give me more trouble than I want or need.”

  Isaac had a mallet at his side, and my eyes caught the play of light on his forearms, the long-sleeved t-shirt rolled up to his elbows. Shaking my head again to clear it, I prayed for an intervention. This man wants to do you harm, I mentally admonished. Just not in the way I’d initially assumed.

  “I thought you worked alone?” Isaac studied me, the sundress clearly not the best outfit for manual labor. “Did you not tell me so before, or was that just to get rid of a certain other gentleman?”

  “I can make an exception this time. And I’m sorry about Trent.” Listening to the sounds of hammering around us, I dove into the fray with spirit, swinging my hammer to break loose the rotten wood planks and then coaxing them away from the frame, where they still clung by rusty old nails that gave metallic groans when I pried them out. “Really, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize Trent was still a sore spot for you. I should have.”

  “You weren’t the one who invited him.” Isaac managed a brittle grin as he set to work at my side. “Besides, I’m a big boy. I can handle myself, Es, don’t you worry about me.”

  I knew quite well the way he handled himself. And me. I couldn’t help the way my eyes kept darting in his direction. After a few minutes of pounding, sweat began to pool in pertinent areas. Underarms, shirt collar, a slim trail winding down to his waistband.

  I burped, the ghost of the single alcoholic beverage I’d consumed coming back in fierce remembrance. “Still, I know how he gets, and he can be a pain in the tooter sometimes.” I swung the hammer once more at a particularly stubborn board and felt the burn through my shoulders. “I think we broke up for similar reasons.”

  “He’s always been a jerkoff. I was glad when you came to your senses,” Isaac put in with a hint of nonchalance. “I’d heard about the two of you.”

  “What? When?”

  “Right when you first started going steady. My mother wrote.”

  “She told you about me.” It was less of a question than a statement. “Probably to alert you to my movements and prepare you for revenge. What else did she say?”

  “She told me you were doing well. That you broke Trent’s heart and opened up a bakery with the best damn tarts she’d ever tasted.”

  “I’m not sure what to think about you keeping tabs on me.”

  “Think whatever you like. In my opinion, you weren’t meant for some good ol’ country boy, no matter who his daddy is or what he does for a living.” Isaac knocked a board loose and dropped it into the growing pile behind us. All around, people were having similar success, and I noted the trails in the grass where wheelbarrows carried steady loads to the bonfire.

  “Men. They always think they are the be all, end all.” I pried the next piece of wood loose and threw it behind me, muscles groaning with the physical effort.

  “I want you to know,” Isaac began on a harried exhale, “that I intend to get to the bottom of your problem.”

  I paused in my hammering. “What do you mean?”

  “The SUV that pushed you into traffic. The blitz attack outside the bakery. I’m going to find out who is behind them and see them put away.”

  “It’s not your business.” I laid into the wood with a vengeance. Emotions coursed through me in a blaze too quick to decipher. “I filed a report with the sheriff’s office. End of story until they catch the bastard.”

  “It’s not the end of the story, sugar. I have a feeling it’s gonna get worse.”

  I used the back of my arm to wipe the band of sweat steadily coursing toward my eyes. Despite the early evening hour, heat still lingered in the air, refusing to abate. The hint of change underlay it, though, and I knew nights like this would be rare soon. Once autumn hit we would wish for the warmth, for the sun still hovering above the horizon and providing more daylight hours.

  “I’m not sure what’s going on,” I admitted. “I thought for sure it was you, in the beginning, bullying me for what happened.”

  He swept a hand to still my movements. “Essie.”

  I hesitated, listening to the smooth sound of my name as he uttered it, as slow and warm as freshly poured coffee, before turning to him. Head spiraling up toward the clouds.

  “That night...” He hesitated. “I should have never...”

  His outline suddenly wavered, as blackness began creeping along the edges of my vision. His head cocked to the side when I stared sideways at him.

  “Essie? Are you okay?”

  Blinking, I tried to nod and found my head would not obey. “Never better.”

  At least, that’s what I thought I’d said. What came out was less words and more of a groan. My stomach gave a final heave before the lightness in my head had me falling forward. There was no time to catch myself. No time to do much but see the way Isaac’s gaze shifted to fright in a split second.

  Both arms flailed in an attempt to catch myself. I thought I heard Isaac scream my name, but I couldn’t be certain with my heart thundering in my ears. Then the lights went out and I heard nothing else.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  I blinked awake amidst the dull hum of heat bugs. My first thought was that I’d died in a horrendous ball of fire and went straight down to hell. The humidity drenched me with sweat, clothes clinging to every inch. Each breath felt like I was fighting to draw air through water.

  Groggy, I sat up on heated pleather and glanced around, vision blurry.

  “Wha...”

  I ran my hands through the sleek strands of hair to make sure I still felt everything there, checking for bald patches or anything out of the ordinary. The moment my vision cleared, I focused on the figure leaning against the hood of a truck. It took my brain some time to properly interpret the scene in front of me.

  I still wasn’t sure where I was but I wasn’t ruling out hell. A single pine tree-shaped air freshener dangled from a cracked rearview mirror, and fast food containers lined the floor, within arm’s reach of where I lay across the seat.

  Isaac slumped against the front bumper with his arms crossed over his steadily rising and falling chest, chin dropped. I pushed myself up on shaky arms, determined not to fall when I struggled to balance.

  My head spun and I tried to slide my bare legs over the edge of the seat. Lungs pumped overtime and fought to bring in oxygen without drowning from the moisture in the air. I spared a glance at Isaac.

  Where was everyone else? Why had he been allotted my caretaker?

  Dusk faded on the horizon and night made a steady approach. My lip
s clamped into a thin line as I wondered how long I’d been out this time. Definitely not something I wanted to incorporate into my routine.

  Relief swelled the moment my bare feet hit the grass, until Isaac spoke. “Oh good. You’re awake. I was worried.”

  I swung around to face him and instantly regretted the motion. A hand rose to my head and I toppled back onto the seat of the pickup, my abdomen in physical pain.

  “Whatever happened,” I groaned, flinging an arm over my forehead, “just leave me here to die. I beg you.”

  “Easy now, Es. The best you can do for yourself is to sit still and let me take care of you. Speaking of which, when was the last time you ate anything?”

  I felt the motion when he pushed away from the fender. The slow crunch of his boots on the ground when he walked to the open door. The touch of his palm on my knee and a whip of electricity when our skin connected.

  “If I want one foot in the grave, then yes, I’ll let you take care of me.” I grimaced against a swell of pain creeping from the base of my neck to the crown of my head. “Damn, man. What did I do?”

  “You passed out and conked your head before I could catch you,” Isaac told me lightly. His fingers traced a pattern on my knee, although they didn’t venture higher. “Seeing as you look like skin and bones, my guess is malnutrition, maybe even low blood sugar. Don’t you know better?”

  I hissed in a breath when I looked at him. Grimaced. Moving hadn’t been my best idea. “My hero.”

  “Your mom insisted you were fine and I needn’t worry.” He clenched his jaw shut, a tango of concern and agitation playing behind his eyes. “You need a little time and some chicken soup. I have a container waiting in a cooler. Along with some very delicious, albeit burnt, mini quiches. We can split them later.”

  “Ugh, there you go again.”

  “What?”

  “Being my knight when I never asked for one.”

  Years of practice made me good at controlling the frustration. Trying to keep my attention off the pain, I gritted my teeth and focused on a particular spot in the distance. Within seconds I pushed the aches to far corners of my mind and the dizzy sensation passed.

  Isaac tapped my arm to bring my attention back. His amber-colored gaze probed every inch of my face. “You okay?”

  “I’ll live,” I muttered.

  “I’ve been out of my mind worrying.” He ran a hand through his hair, mussing the strands until they stood on end. “You can’t be so stressed that you’d forget to eat.”

  Can and did. Check, check. “How long was I out?”

  “Long enough for me to take a cat nap. Probably twenty minutes or so,” he admitted. “I’ve learned to catch a wink anywhere I can.”

  “Your powers of slumber aside, I think we should get back to the party.” I struggled against his grip when he helped me sit up once more. “Let everyone know I’m still alive.”

  Isaac shrugged. “Most people left when you dropped. It put a damper on the mood and things disbanded pretty quickly.”

  “Anything to shake up a crowd.” My head had taken too many beatings in the last two weeks. Whether Isaac had anything to do with them or not, he appeared to be the proverbial black cloud circling above. I told him as much.

  “I’m sorry I caught you a second too late. Even sorrier that I let it get to this point,” Isaac answered with grim finality. “I’ll keep a closer watch from now on. I’m not gonna let you out of my sight. And I definitely won’t let you go without a meal. What kind of bakery owner doesn’t eat?”

  I couldn’t fault him for his involvement today. “A second too late?”

  He shifted me to my feet, keeping a steady hand on my arm when I faltered. “You hit your head on the soft ground. Nothing too terrible.”

  “Nothing too terrible seems to be my lot in life lately.”

  “Let me see.” His tone brooked no argument and I obediently bent under his scrutiny.

  I hissed when his fingers probed a sensitive spot at the back of my skull. “I don’t know what happened. Usually I can handle myself. With my business on hiatus, I haven’t had an appetite.”

  “Everything looks all right.”

  I straightened in a slow, concise manner until my eyes met his. “I’m glad you were there.”

  “You know what? You’re welcome.”

  “You better leave me alone after this,” I cautioned. “A girl can get used to the chivalry and I wouldn’t want to be dependent.” Never wanted to lean on him again, yet it seemed every time I turned around, there he was.

  The heel of his boot nudged the door open wider and he rested his elbow on the dash. “Especially because it’s me, right?” Isaac asked dryly.

  I snuggled closer until my knees touched his thighs. “Yes. You’re the asshole who brought a rat into my bakery.”

  “Now, sugar, I told you before. Why would I do something that punishes myself in the process? It doesn’t make sense.” His tone held a hint of humor indicating otherwise.

  It was funny, how things had shifted one hundred and eighty degrees from the first moment Shari told me that Isaac was out of jail. I’d been terrified of what could happen. What would happen if he got his hands on me. Now...oh, now. His hands were all over me and I felt safe. Protected. I wanted his hands there, and despite the threats from earlier, I knew with him around, I might end up okay.

  I told him on an exhale, “I’m sure you have better things to do. You’ve told me so before.”

  “Better things than staring at you right now? Hardly. Besides, I happen to know for a fact the police won’t find the real culprit.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because you’re looking at public enemy number one right here.” He tapped his sternum and shot me a rueful grin.

  I stopped for a moment, lips flapping. “Oh.”

  His laugh rumbled until I felt the echo through my legs. “Right. It makes sense, from their perspective. Here’s a guy who just got out of jail and is looking to make trouble.”

  “They wouldn’t have a clue why you’re targeting me. What’s the motive, in their eyes?”

  “Malicious intent is enough, as far as I know. Seems you were right all along and I’m out to ruin you. I’m a no-good son-of-a-bitch.”

  The look in his eyes brought ruin to a whole different level. One where skin slid against skin with delicious friction and the quality of the day was numbered by sighs and kisses instead of seconds and minutes.

  Muted strains of laughter reached us. I had a picture in my head of my parents outside with glasses full of spiked punch and fireflies twinkling overhead. They would entertain the stragglers, most assuredly, and continue the festivities with or without their daughter. I meant little in the grand scheme of things. Especially when they knew I would be fine. I had a guardian, after all.

  “Yes, I may have overestimated the number of people who left,” Isaac put in.

  “So modest. I missed—” I caught myself before I revealed more and regretted the admission.

  “You missed?” he pried.

  “Nothing. I’m delirious.” Indeed, thoughts came and went without sticking. Lacking the gumption to stay. I was lucky I retained the ability for complete sentences. Wait, what was I saying?

  In the murky dregs of evening, Isaac’s hair caught the budding light of the stars. Tree limbs cast deep shadows on his face, illuminating the crags and creases. I was aware of his strength, the harsh definition of muscle in his chest and arms, fighting the urge to squeeze.

  “Come on. I’ll take you home. Oh, here.” He plucked a tiny bundle of brown fur from the ground and plopped it in my lap. “Take your land shark.”

  Frank huffed his happiness and circled once on my lap before leaning his head against my torso. Frank? Being nice to a man? It was out of the question.

  You’re not in your right mind.

  I hadn’t been since the day Isaac walked back into my life. It took several tries to get into a comfortable position, even longer to sett
le. I listened to the click of the seatbelt before letting my head rest against the seat, wondering if it was possible to get out of a self-made torture.

  I shivered, and Isaac squeezed my leg to combat it. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

  “I’m fine,” I insisted. “You’ve done enough.”

  He contented himself with watching me. It was fine. I swiveled in the seat and grabbed hold of the seatbelt across my midsection. Still Isaac watched me, even after turning the key in the ignition and starting the engine. It was like having a predator stalking in the bushes, I thought. Some kind of large, handsome cat with a steady gaze. Patient, and more than a little dangerous.

  “I heard you’ve been looking at some spaces in town for your gastropub,” I said for something to fill the silence.

  “I have,” Isaac agreed. He didn’t seem to mind my knowledge on the subject. It was hard to keep secrets in this town. I wondered how we’d managed to hide such a large one for such a long time. “There are a lot of intricacies with restaurant work. I’m determined. I’ve started on plans for a kitchen and made serious progress.”

  “That’s real nice.” It sounded so dull and noncommittal, but the truth was I was happy for him. Genuinely happy. Focusing on his future instead of mine, and the pounding in my head, I continued, “I hope you get what you want.”

  He speared me with a glance. “Sugar, I always get what I want. Haven’t you learned that by now?”

  I studied his face, noted the tiny flush creeping from beneath his shirt collar. “I’m not sure I ever will.”

  “Too bad. It might save you a bit of trouble in the future.”

  “Don’t tell me you have plans.” Suddenly in need of fresh air, I rolled down the window and let the cool breeze wash away the last of my headache.

  “Fine then. I won’t tell you.”

  “Talk to me instead about the gastropub.”

  We chatted together companionably on the ride home. In the twenty minutes it took to climb down the mountain to the house, my hands relaxed on my lap, and Isaac charmed me with his visions for the future. Charmed me all too well with long, deep looks along with casual touches he knew affected me. I made a vow to toughen up against them. There was no need to go looking for trouble. It’d already been found.