Sugar and Gold

by Brea Viragh

  Afternoon turned to dusk, the sun sinking low, cradled between the swell of two hills. Goose bumps rose on my skin.

  “Essie!”

  The word shot from the silence with the force of an explosion and I whirled to my knees with arms outstretched in front of me.

  “Don’t come any closer!”

  “Easy there, sugar. Let me help you up.”

  I groaned against the contact, as well as the cocoon of safety he wrapped me in by his presence. Never would I have thought it possible. Isaac made me feel safe. “Someone tried to sh-shoot me.” Wincing, I leaned hard against him, comforted when his arm wound over my shoulder.

  “What?” The single word took on the texture of granite. Immovable. Unbreakable.

  I pointed a shaky finger toward the woods, the wall of trees looking like a nightmare rather than the peaceful haven I’d enjoyed when I first went out for a walk. “I didn’t see who it was. They missed me by inches every t-time. It was like...they were playing with me.”

  I’d never thought it possible to see such fury contained in a single face. His black gaze was terrifying as it bore down on the trees. Isaac tightened his grip and helped me along the path to the house. Calmer now, I told him about the experience, details of the encounter I hadn’t explored through the fear.

  “I swear to God, whoever it was, I’ll find them,” he said when I was done.

  I let out a shaky laugh. Feeling small and pathetic next to his might. “They missed on purpose.”

  “How do you know?”

  “Because the bullets came close enough for it to feel like a game. If whoever had the gun wanted me dead, then I wouldn’t be here.”

  “You need to go to the police. Right now.”

  “For what? They’ll just think you did it. Again. After all, you conveniently showed up here. They might even say you moved in with me on purpose. To get close.” I glanced away from his fierce expression and sealed my lips.

  “Yeah, I’ll give you that.” He helped me onto the porch, both of us greeted by a wild-eyed Frank who frantically licked at my ankles. I scooped him up and held him close to my chest.

  I turned my attention to Isaac, standing in the open doorway waiting for me to enter, then lowered my lids. “I’m fine.”

  “I’m not leaving you here alone,” he answered in a gravelly voice. Clearing his throat before crossing the space, he fingered a lock of my hair and brought it in front of my face for my inspection.

  I stared at the shorn strand, the end chopped raggedly. Had the bullet been so close?

  Isaac bombarded me with harsh words, words of caution and anger and coulda and shoulda. Through it all I recognized his fear.

  Placing Frank on the floor, I forgot about the horror I’d endured, the mess Isaac and I had made of each other. I placed an open palm on the side of his face to draw his attention back.

  “Hey,” I said softly, “I’m alive. Let’s focus on the good things, because I’ll tell you, if I don’t set the blinders on, I’m going to lose it.”

  Instead of answering, Isaac dragged me close and wrapped me up in a hard embrace. “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you.”

  “You’d be fine,” I insisted.

  “I don’t see how you’re so calm about this.” He released his hold and walked to the kitchen sink, flipping on the water and running his hands under the spray.

  Giving Frank a pat on the behind, I brought my hair into a bun and tried to stop thinking about the bullets. The shaking deep inside was not so easily forgotten. I would wait until morning to call the girls, although it would be a very long night with images of the chase crashing through my head.

  Now, with Isaac here and the bright lights of the kitchen chasing away the dark, the experience had some distance. My head throbbed and legs hurt, but I was alive.

  “The question remains. What are we going to do about it?” Isaac asked.

  “I need more time to figure out what I can do about it.”

  He shook his head, crossing to the refrigerator and grabbing a beer. “I’m not sure I can give you the time. This is a serious issue, sugar. Beyond scare tactics.”

  “I know! Trust me, I know.”

  “Whoever it is doesn’t want us together. I can almost guarantee it.” Isaac grumbled when he popped the top off the bottle. “I’ve been going over it in my head the last few days, all the shit that’s happened between then and now. Your problems started when I got out of jail. I’ve figured out why. Someone wants to keep us separated.”

  I sagged into the couch, strength draining.

  He continued. “This person, let’s say he for the sake of convenience, wants to isolate you. Get you alone and scare you. Make you feel detached, threatened, bullied.”

  “Or worse,” I added, closing my eyes. “Who knows what kind of physical damage he could have done to me. If he tries again—and odds are good he will—he might be more direct.”

  Isaac dropped the now-empty bottle in the recycling bin and came to sit next to me. “And we’ll be prepared.”

  I slumped further into the cushions, Frank nestled against my lap, watching Isaac stretch his long legs out to the coffee table. Exhaustion took him over—the man, not the dog—and he looked like he’d rather be catching a nap than putting puzzle pieces together.

  Heat flushed in my stomach when I looked at him, his eyes closing and chest hitching in a continuous rise and fall. Temper spiked and red-edged my vision. Whoever it was toying with me, with us, they had a lot of nerve. They were playing with my life. Playing with my future. When would I get a step ahead?

  Screw the bastard who thought he could play God with this...with an opportunity to soothe past aches and move forward with a decent man.

  I pushed to my feet.

  “What are you doing?” Isaac asked groggily.

  “I’m going to get my note pad and figure out who this asshole is,” I said. I held my arms out to encompass the room and what I’d built from nothing. “I’m not letting a stranger dictate my life. Or yours. I have to be strong, and realistic, because I want to believe we can end this game.”

  “I think you should let it go for now.”

  “But you just said—”

  “I know what I said. Let’s be done with talk for the night, Es.”

  It threw me off-stride. “Done with talk?”

  “Yes. Done with talk. Get your mind off of it.”

  My eyes widened, then narrowed when Isaac rose to his feet. There was no mistaking his slow smile, the intention behind his eyes. “Don’t even think about kissing me. I’m not interested. No hanky-panky.”

  “I think a little kiss is in order. The best thing to get your mind in a better place.”

  “I mean it, Isaac.” I held up a pen and aimed it like a spear. “Keep away from me.”

  “Go ahead. Tell me why this isn’t a good idea.”

  I danced in reverse when he took a step toward me. Then another. “Because this isn’t a game.”

  “No, it’s not.” He made a grab for me, snagging me by a wrist and hauling me against his chest. Somewhere on the spectrum between pleasure and disbelief, I giggled, trying to free myself from his hold. And not trying very hard.

  “Let go of me.”

  “There’s no reason to let go.”

  God, it felt good in his arms. Better to have him pressed against me, his core hard and heaving with each inhalation. Before I realized what was happening, he had me on my back on the sofa, pinned beneath him.

  “For poop’s sake! We haven’t finished our discussion.”

  “We can pick it up later.” He bent to nip at my chin. “I’m sure you’ll remember where we left off.”

  “You’re sweaty and you smell like beer. This is not the best situation for—”

  The rest of my words were cut off when his mouth bent to take mine. Seduction, I’d meant to say. Yet look where we were. There were a gazillion reasons not to do this, not to cross this line with him. They all went dim the longer he ki
ssed me. “We can’t...mmm...we can’t...”

  “You sure about that?”

  I couldn’t help wanting him. In the midst of his enticement, with his hips keeping me in place and his mouth doing strange things to my pulse, I wondered why I was fighting. I wanted the gruff exterior and dry humor, his fundamental strength and respect. His rough edges and tendency toward sweetness when he thought no one was looking.

  More, he wanted me in return. The woman who was obsessed with order, who limited herself to a single glass of wine a week. Isaac wanted the woman who watered her flowers every Tuesday and baked like a dream even when she cut him with words.

  I vibrated beneath him when he touched me, his thumbs possessive when they traced a circle around my nipples. He used a knee to widen my legs and the rush of heat had my head spiraling toward the ceiling. I melted under him. My body going fluid. Coming alive with heat the longer he touched me.

  This was rash. It was insane. It wasn’t like me.

  I couldn’t stop myself.

  My lips clamped down on his and I savored the tingling sensations sweeping my body. Isaac smelled of sweat, the day’s labor, and a bit of barley and hops. It was sexy. Intoxicating. His mouth performed magic on me, tongue pushing inside and rendering me useless.

  His hands were doing something else entirely.

  Our bodies matched perfectly. Isaac lay on top of me, with his tongue thrusting and his hand around my neck to hold me beneath him. With the other hand, he reached down to unfasten his pants. A jolt of pleasure bucked inside of me. I plunged my hands into his hair, twisting my fingers to hold him. To pull him closer.

  His hair obscured my vision, waving and showing yellowed streaks from the sun. There was nothing except Isaac, his smell, his taste. The feel of him along my skin. I nipped his lip.

  “Get your belt off. It’s digging into my hip.”

  Isaac fought to draw breath as he levered to unbuckle it. Then he stopped. Stopped all movement to stare at me. His eyes were sultry, his skin flushed, and I could not imagine how I must look to him.

  “What?”

  “Essie...”

  I didn’t know what to say to him; words were jumbled in my mind and tangled with too many emotions to name. A smile came slowly to his face. Then he was kissing me again. Sucking the air from my lungs until the edges of my vision turned to static. When was the last time I’d been kissed in such a way? A way where I couldn’t distinguish where his mouth ended and mine began.

  “More,” I found myself begging. There was a first time for everything.

  Isaac kissed me again, with hunger. Need. Desire and little sighs urged me closer. His fingers flipped his belt out of its loop before reaching higher to twist the fabric of my shirt.

  I didn’t want this to stop.

  His body was hard, and my mind and heart powerless against him. I arched up to meet him when his fingers skimmed over my suddenly bare chest. When had he... Ugh, I couldn’t think. Isaac’s teeth skimmed a little line along my collar bone, a whisper away from sending me into orgasm. Then he was one me. Surrounding me. Destroying me.

  He flipped open the button of his jeans, yanked down the zipper, and lowered his mouth down to mine the moment he entered me. I breathed in the air he exhaled. I tasted him on my tongue. Isaac surged forward and filled me to the limit, stretching until my body accommodated his girth.

  Throwing my head back, I rode the waves of pleasure until I was lost in blissful oblivion.

  LATER, I LAY SPRAWLED across his chest, hair damp and sticking to my forehead. The lucid part of my brain registered two things: We were naked, and Isaac’s arms were clamped around me. Holding on for dear life.

  “You okay?”

  “Mm-hmm.” I turned my head to rest it more comfortably on his chest. “Better than ever.”

  “Sure you can handle making love to a jailbird?”

  “True, it’s a little unorthodox. I can’t quite convince myself that it’s wrong,” I murmured.

  “I can’t move.”

  “Then don’t.”

  “I feel sixteen again.”

  “One of us, maybe. I never did anything like this when I was sixteen. My sanity must have gone out the window. Where are my pants?”

  “I’ll get them for you.” Isaac shifted, nudging me aside before rising off the couch.

  I watched him as he snatched up clothing that had been tossed away in reckless abandon, his beautiful naked rear flexing with each movement. And I couldn’t help the secret smile.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Meetings with the pest control people a second time and plans for a grand reopening kept me tied to the bakery for the next few days. There was no room to complain. If I wanted to get this portion of my life back on track, then I’d do whatever it took to get Essie’s Confections running again.

  Apparently, it took paperwork, numerous phone calls, and adjustments to store protocol to get momentum going. There was no time to dwell on the sex—mmm—or the threats hanging over my head when there were hoops to jump through and consultations with Health Department personnel.

  I could handle it. If my parents and extended family taught me anything at all, it was to rise to the occasion. I’d spent the last three years working harder than I’d planned, and I didn’t intend to stop now. Not until the bakery was operating at peak performance again.

  Rats be damned.

  “I want to thank you for meeting me here today.” I took a sip of coffee and stared at Dubois over the rim of the mug.

  He glanced around the coffee shop like he’d never seen a café before. More than likely he was nitpicking their cleanliness and mentally calculating how close they came to code violations.

  “My pleasure, Miss Townson.”

  Again with the last name... Would it be rude to correct him once more this late in our relationship?

  I flashed the inspector a dazzling smile instead. “I thought it would be better to discuss the reopening here instead of at the courthouse. It’s less formal.”

  Dubois sniffed, his mustache twitching with the movement. “If you insist. I think the paperwork is pretty straightforward.” He motioned toward the folder lying between us on the table. “You received a clean bill from the pest company and there has been no further evidence of rats or feces since my initial inspection. Looks like you’ll get your permit renewed. Congratulations.”

  “You have no clue how wonderful it is to hear that.” I glanced up when the bell above the door jingled. Then rolled my eyes at the familiar face of Isaac Howard. To be sure, if he had a free moment, he came to find me. Our gazes locked for a split second before I turned my attention back to Dubois.

  “This was unnecessary.” He gestured around at the shop. “I would have sent the paperwork through the mail for you.”

  “I wanted to make sure we were on the same page,” I clarified. “Next week?”

  He nodded. “At the earliest. We want to make sure every step has been taken before giving your license back.”

  It was enough. It had to be enough, because without his cooperation I was doomed. Our meeting drawing to a close, I reached my hand across the table to shake his. “I can’t exactly say it’s been a pleasure, however I’m glad we can conclude our business on a positive note.”

  He took the offering with hesitation. “Indeed.”

  Once we’d both signed on the dotted line, I motioned for Isaac to join me. He watched Dubois walk out the door and then sat with his eyes trained away.

  “The inspector?”

  “Yup. Otherwise known as Mustachio Grand Supreme. I’ll be primed to open the doors next week. At the earliest.” My voice took on an affected tone while I mocked the inspector. “What are you having?”

  Isaac grinned, the smile warming his face. “I thought you’d never ask. I’d almost think you’re comfortable with me again.”

  One brow rose independent of the other. “I wouldn’t go that far. But if I’m having coffee, and you insist on being here, you might as we
ll join me.”

  Isaac bent at the waist. “Well, thank you.”

  “It’s been almost a week and I think things are starting to go my way again.” I let my knuckles fall on the table. “Knock on wood. I’m ready to close the umbrella on Murphy’s Law and get back to normal. Which means you won’t have to follow me around so much.”

  “Although I’ve grown kinda fond of following you, it will give me more time to focus on the pub. Speaking of which...”

  A week of days at the bakery and nights with Isaac. Feeling the heat of him crawl next to me in bed a moment before his fingers trailed their way between my legs.

  Was I blushing? In public?

  “I’m about to sign a lease. Cross your fingers for me, will you? Murphy’s Law. Whatever can go wrong, will go wrong,” he said, bringing me back to the present.

  I shoved any lingering erotic thoughts away. “Exactly,” I began. “Whoever put the rat in my store is probably wishing they’d thought of something worse. I showed them this time.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I leaned back in the chair. Confident.

  Isaac nudged me with the toe of his boot. “I’m glad to see you smiling. It’s been a long time since you’ve been happy.”

  I pointed to my temples. “My head’s better, there’s been no sign of the silver SUV, and I’m feeling like a problem-solving master.”

  “Glad to know there are no complaints about your head. Not from me, anyway.”

  His teasing brought another blush to my cheeks. “You’re disgusting.”

  He shrugged. “Calling it like it is. I’m innocent.”

  “Sure.” I took a quick sip of my coffee and tried not to focus on our previous night together. One where I’d knelt between his legs and licked and sucked my way to paradise.

  “You don’t know how thrilled I am to see you focusing on the positives,” Isaac said, and the compliment relaxed me.

  The door opened and two cops walked into the shop. I was about to say something about it sounding like the beginning of a joke. Thought Isaac would appreciate it. An officer and a sheriff walk into a coffee shop...