Sinfully Delicious: Six Scintillating Stories of Sweets, Treats, and Happily Ever Afters

by Gauthier, Crystal L.

  Making a circular motion with her finger, Christie made Lacey freeze. She was growing uncomfortable with this conversation. Adjusting her seat to dissuade the throbbing feeling between her legs, Christie looked back down at her computer screen. She needed a cup of coffee. Rising out of her seat, she shook off the thought pattern Lacey had induced. Walking to the kitchen, she poured the last drop of coffee in to her cup, debating on when she would unfreeze her friend. She felt guilty about it. Circling her finger in a counterclockwise motion, Lacey was released.

  “Did you freeze me again, you fricking Witch?” Lacey yelled, almost falling out of the chair.

  “I wouldn’t do that if you would shut your mouth when I ask you to.”

  “Man. Did someone step on your tail or what?”

  Lacey came around the back side of Christie’s chair, massaging her friend’s shoulders.

  “So, what do you have planned for the weekend? Some of us are going up to Legacy Cove for the weekend. You wanna come?”

  Pretending not to hear her friend, but still answering her.

  “Hmm … I don’t think so. I have a major article to get done. Besides, I don’t feel like getting wasted and passing out on the beach, waking up with sand up my cooch. Besides, that guy Tim does nothing for me as far as spark a fire or make me feel all warm and tingly inside.”

  “Suit yourself, my sweet paranormal sloth. You seemed to have a little crush on him the last time we were up there,” Lacey teased.

  “Um, no. I did not. He was a beach bum. I was really drunk, and don’t want a dude like that in my life. I want someone who will be romantic.”

  “Come on, Christie. Really? You have dreams of grandeur. Real life is not like in your books, woman.”

  Lacey looked around, focusing on the four, floor-to-wall bookshelves full of romance novels. Then shook her head.

  “You read about fantasy too much, Chris.”

  Getting annoyed already at the never-ending drone of her best friend’s voice, Christie pointed her ink pen toward her.

  “Listen to me, WOMAN. I like my life. I am happy reading, cooking, and living out here in the woods. Nature … reading, writing … it … is my world now. You need to just get out of here and go have fun at the lake. When you get back, we can do lunch or something.” She ushered her friend out with the tip of the ink pen.

  “Don’t you dare use your magic on me. I am warning you … put that pen away!!”

  “GET OUT, LACEY!”

  Shrugging her shoulders, Lacey watched her friend closely.

  “Suit yourself. You sit here and stare in to your computer all weekend. I do not know how you can sit here, day in and day out. You need sunshine and fun.”

  She was harping now. Christie hated it when Lacey harped on her.

  “Fun was fifteen years ago when we were in school. Now it is time to make a living and do something important with my life. I swear, Lacey, you will never grow up. Being a yoga instructor is not exactly a lucrative career, ya know.”

  “I hope I never do, Christie. I like yoga. Besides, Dave is rich. Maybe I will snare him. I don’t want to waste one moment on this earth.” Quickly, she jumped up, leaving her empty coffee cup on the desk, much to Christie’s annoyance.

  “Tata, little witchy poo. If you change your mind, text me. I will come pick you up.”

  “Hey. Take your cup and put it in the trash. Jeez. Don’t you ever clean up after yourself?”

  Giving Christie a dirty look, Lacey picked up the cup and threw it in the trash can beside the desk.

  “There. Are ya happy, witch? Man. You really are a prude. But I love you. Kisses. Mwah !

  “Yeah, yeah. Okay, Lace. Talk to you later. Smooches!” Blowing a kiss in to the air, Christie watched as her friend slammed the door, jumped in to her bright red Mustang , and sped off. I really should have gone to the lake with Lacey, she thought, yet I feel like just sitting alone and writing all weekend. Maybe she would make some Divinity. That sounded good. Comfort sweets. That would make her feel better. I will make a large batch and put it in to plastic containers. This batch will last a long time.

  Her phone rang just as she’d finished making the sweet confection.

  “Hello, Mom. How are you?” Christie answered with an annoyed tone.

  “Hello, Christie, my dear. Just thought I would call to catch up with you. How is it in … oh, where do you live again? Somewhere up north?”

  “Yes, Mom. It is fine. Nice and warm here. How about Mass? Is it good down there?”

  “Oh, yes. It is hot. Your sister, Debbie, and I have decided to visit the Cape this weekend, and we were wondering if you could fly down to meet us?”

  She did not get along well with her mother or sister. They always picked at her—about her hair, about her clothes, her not practicing witchcraft, etc. It was a never-ending cycle that she did not want any part of. One could only tolerate the two of them for so long without wanting to strangle them.

  “No, Mom. I am afraid not. I have an important article to write. It is due Saturday evening.”

  “Well, Christie, couldn’t you bring your laptop with you and work at the beach house? We would love to sit and talk with you. Maybe do a grunion run or something fun like that.”

  Oh, yes. Little nasty fish; picking them up and putting them in a bucket and frying them. She loved to cook, but not those smelly things.

  “No. I really can’t. But I hope you and Debbie have a good time. Give her my love. I gotta go now, Mom. Love you.”

  “But … Christie?”

  She clicked the button to disconnect the call as her mother was still talking.

  Her mother had always favored Debbie. No love lost here. Christie was just an object of curiosity for her mother. Sue Miller never understood the bookworm in her eldest daughter. Christie assumed she must have been more like her father, but she did not know who her father was. Every time she tried to ask her mother who he was or where he lived, her mother would just say something like, “He is not worth our thoughts. He never wanted me or you. He left us the moment he found out I was pregnant.”

  Of course, Debbie had a father. A nice man whom she barely remembered. Jared Mitchum had died of a sudden heart attack when Christie was six years old. Debbie had only been three years old at the time. But Mom had always talked so nicely about him that Debbie had always felt the love of both her parents.

  Christie was lost deep in thought, thinking of the days gone by, wishing for a father to love her and share the same passion for reading and writing. Sometimes she would make believe he was a scholar living in Europe; somewhere too engrossed in research or teaching at a famous university to have time for a little girl. But, yet, hoping he thought about her on occasion. Wondering who she was and what she did. That was why Christie wished for a man to love and love her back. The lack of a father really did have a big part in her lifestyle. She did not need to be hurt by a man, and didn’t need one to complicate her life. Her mother, she’d guessed, had taught her independence. Lord knows she did not teach her anything else, besides how to be a witch. Which she denied each and every day, except when it came in handy to freeze someone or cast a spell of protection.

  After taking a shower and fixing a sandwich and a nice big glass of Ice Tea, she found herself wondering out on to the big deck that overlooked Legacy Lake, which she could see at the bottom of the hill. Living in the woods made her feel safe. She loved to see the hunter’s all garbed in their gear of camouflage and bright orange caps in the fall. Then when the snow began to fly in the winter and the holidays approached, she always found herself wanting to meet a mountain man. It was one of her dreams. Someone who would chop wood, hunt deer, snuggle close in front of the fire place, and be one with nature, just like she was.

  A chill came in to the air, along with some low-lying fog, and she realized it had grown late. The sun had dipped below the horizon hours ago. Looking at her digital clock through the back window, it said 11:45 pm. Normally, that was past her bedtime. No
t feeling a bit sleepy, she walked back in to her office and sat down in front of the computer. Debating on finishing the article she had been writing as a freelance writer for a popular literary magazine, Christie decided to go on to social media a while just for shits and grins. She always loved the kitten videos or the lonely people who were constantly posting about themselves and their problems. Scrolling through some of those posts, one struck her particularly strong.

  It sure would be nice to have a friend to talk to once in a while on here.

  Christie had such a tender heart, anytime she saw something like that, she automatically became drawn to befriend that person. Loneliness was a terrible thing. Sighing to herself, she happened to look up at the profile picture. It was a red pick-up truck. Next to the picture was the name ... Mark Ostrander. Shock registered on her face, and she about peed her pants. Here was a guy whom she had a serious, undeniable crush on during her high school years. In school he had been the sexiest guy—long brown hair, beautiful, chocolate brown eyes, and a body as sleek and handsome as his hair. Well, maybe he was not that good looking, but to her, love was blind, and she had always loved Mark … her Mark … now right in front of her on social media, saying he wanted a friend.

  “Are you kidding me?!” She was freaking out. She didn’t know what to write. Her hands were sweating, heart pounding. She knew she shouldn’t answer back. “Oh. Hell yes, I should. Answer him. Go ahead. Say hi.”

  Talking herself in to it, Christie started typing.

  Hey, Mark. I will talk to you and be your friend on here. Anytime you want to talk just message me.

  Holy hell. I just did that. I laid that out there like whip cream on pie. Just put it out there for him to see. He probably won’t answer or even notice it. She decided to just get back to work. That was until she heard the friendly little ping of the computer, telling her someone had answered. OMG ... OMG ... it’s him. Her Mark was answering her back.

  Mark: Hi, Christie. Thank you for being my friend. Wow. It’s been years, huh? I see you write magazine articles now.

  Christie: Yes. I am a freelance writer. I submit my work to multiple magazines, publishers, etc. I want to write a novel someday.

  Mark: Good for you. Hope to talk more sometime.

  That’s it? That is all he said? Typical man!

  Men never said anything. None of them could really type. She just laughed. At least he noticed and answered… It was something.

  That night, Christie went to bed with a smile on her face. Her Mark finally knew she was alive. In school, he had never given her a second glance. His cousin, Tracey, had been a friend of hers, but when Tracey caught on that Christie just wanted to be around Mark, she moved on to another friend. Guess she did not like being used. Oh, well. That was the past. Christie finally managed to doze off with thoughts of Mark dancing through her head. Well, he didn’t actually dance. He more like caressed her body tenderly.

  The next nigh t , she messaged him to say hi. If he wanted to talk, she was on the computer. He was not on. Feeling bummed, she vowed to keep trying. Meanwhile, she started writing her long awaited novel. It was romance in a contemporary style. A man, a woman, passion and conflict, with a happy ending … she hoped. Her muse was talking to her, but the direction the novel was going in, she wondered if she should add a paranormal aspect.

  On the third afternoon, he answered her back.

  Mark: Hey. I missed you yesterday. I thought you wanted to be my friend?

  Christie: “I do. I messaged you two times. Didn’t you get them? Christie replied.

  Mark: “Oh, yeah. I did. Sorry. I was working and forgot to look. I apologize for that.

  Feeling shy and vulnerable, she knew she needed to know more about him. Christie bit her lip, typing to him a series of questions.

  Do you work? Where do you live? Are you in a relationship?

  He answered that he did work in cabinetry, and he lived in a small town not far from where she lived.

  Then he asked her some questions.

  Are you married? She told him she was divorced, living on her own in the woods up north of town. Do you date? What are your favorite things to do in your spare time? He offered up some more answers, too. He was a hunter, loved the outdoors, and could be often found roaming around the very woods she lived in. They carried on their conversation for three hours that night. Christie’s world was opening up like a flower. She was finally talking to the man she had wondered about for over fifteen years. She found out he was still not married. Yippee! That was the best news ever! She was on cloud nine. She still had a chance to make this right.

  Every night, they would get on the computer and talk, and he was starting to joke around about wanting her body.

  Mark: Do you still have that smoking hot body you had in high school? he asked.

  I sooo wanted to feel your hair to see how soft it was.

  Christie: Excuse me? Haha. I was never smoking hot. I was a mousy little blonde with lanky legs. You wanted to touch my hair?

  Mark: “Yes. My God, yes. I wanted you, and to me, you were not lanky at all. I always wanted to talk to you, but felt you were out of my league, Christie. I was shy.

  Christie: Well, Mark. I will have you know I thought you were an Adonis. An untouchable man. I was shy also. When we would stand at the bus stop, I would watch you, but you never said a word.

  Mark: Is that so? Hmm … I didn’t have much to say, I guess. I never knew you noticed me. Why didn’t you tell me?

  Christie: Mark, you just don’t walk up to a guy and say hey, I think I want you to be my boyfriend.

  Mark: LOL. No, I guess no one would do that.”

  So, tell me, Christie, what do you like? What would you want me to do to you?

  Christie: Physically?

  Mark: Yeah. You know, where would you like me to touch you?

  Crap on a cracker. He wants to do this, on the internet. Man. I hope he is not a sicko now.

  That is really personal, and I am not sure if I want to talk like this with you through social media.

  He paused; she did not see him typing anything.

  Oh. Ok then. I understand. I apologize if I offended you, he said.

  She had to ask herself, does he really understand ? She thought hard about it. Maybe he just wanted to get to know her better. What could it hurt? She would play along for a few.

  Christie: Well, I would like for you to go down on me and use your big, thick tongue to lap… Oh. She could not even type the words. It was embarrassing.

  Mark: Woah now. That is what I am talking about, babe, but please continue. I would surely give you pleasure slowly, carefully, feeling your need build until I could make you cum all over my lips.

  His words fervently turned Christie on.

  She felt the heat between her legs. The throbbing drove her sensual need to an all-time high. Well, now it was time to change the subject or get off the computer, head upstairs, and masturbate. No. Change the subject, Christie. Use your self-control.

  Mark, where do you live now?

  Mark: What?

  Christie: Where do you live now? Like in an apartment in the city or…?

  Mark: Oh. Um … girl, you sure like to change the subject quick, don’t ya? You do not want to tell me what you would do to me?

  Christie: No. I would rather know more about you.

  Mark: Well, if we tell each other what we like, you will find out more about me. More than you ever dreamed, sweetheart.

  Christie: Mark, Please.

  Mark: Oh, alright. I live just outside of Kalkaska, close to Big Water.

  Christie: You are kidding me? I live in the woods in a two-story A-frame near Legacy Lake.

  Mark: Wow, babe. That is really cool. I just built this place last spring, and am now adding the final touches to the inside. It’s my man cave for more reasons than one. “Boy, if she only knew,” he thought.

  Now, where were we, Christie? I believe you were telling me what you would do to me when we finall
y come together.

  She began changing the subject again. She hated it when all men wanted to talk about was sex. But that was every man in the world.

  Christie: Mark, do you like Divinity?

  Mark: I see you are wanting to talk about something else … again . “What is it witch chic’s? they act like they want to get into your jeans then they clam up on you.”

  Mark: Okay. I give. What is Divinity?” he asked.

  Christie: It is a special kind of cooked candy. Kind of like fudge. It has nuts in it, and it is a specialty of mine. Mom always said the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach. I call it my sweet indulgence. Kind of like you ( Smiley face emoji). She was trying to be cute using the little smiley face.

  Mark: Hmm … well, your mom was correct in one thing, but tell me more about what you would do to me.

  Christie: Awe, Mark. I don’t feel comfortable talking like that. I hope you are not disappointed?

  Mark: No; I am not disappointed. I just thought since we were talking and feeling each other out we could release some sexual tension.

  Christie: LOL. You mean release your sexual tension. When I need to release that kind of tension, I cook or write.

  Mark: Well, I can think of other ways to help you release. Hey. I really needed this, Christie. Never in a million years would I have thought we would hook up. Especially like this.

  Mark began to tell her how lonely he had been; how long it had been since he had held a woman in his arms. Thus, she figured why he wanted to talk sex. Probably to get off while they were talking on the computer. Ewww. MEN!

  She told him about her career and how there was not time for a long-term relationship. Yet Christie was willing to begin one with Mark if he turned out to be a decent person. The voice of Lacey rang loud in her head. “You need to live in the real world.” Maybe it was time, she thought to herself. Maybe Mark was the one after all. Another Sweet Indulgence.

  Bear with me.

  Christie was a t her desk the next day when Lacey called. “Hey, Chris. You should head up to the cove. It is a blast up here. That guy from last time was asking about you. Come on. We need a fifth wheel down here.”