by Sophie Stern
Valentine’s Sugar Rush
Sophie Stern
Copyright © 2021 by Sophie Stern
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
Helena and Bob have been together for what seems like a million years, but Helena has a secret. It's been haunting her for as long as she can remember, but she doesn't know what to do.
Bob knows his wife is hiding something. The sweet woman he married has been struggling for a long time. He needs to show her that she can trust him, and Valentine's Day is the perfect time do to that.
Will Bob and Helena be able to make it through the next stage of their relationship?
Is there anything about their problem that can't be solved with a sweet Valentine's Day cupcake?
Find out in Valentine's Sugar Rush.
**This sweet read takes place in the same world as SAVORED, which is a standalone steamy romance by Sophie Stern.**
Author’s Note:
Valentine’s Sugar Rush takes place in the same world as SAVORED. For a more in-depth look at Ashton and how Savored came to be what it is, please check out this book. You may get a copy wherever eBooks are sold.
1
Helena
After 30 years of marriage, I still had secrets.
Maybe that was a problem.
In fact, I was almost certain that it was.
When you married someone, you married all of them. You married their past, their present, and their future. You married the person you thought they were, and you promised to love the person they actually were, and you hoped those two ideals lined up.
Bob was everything I’d ever asked for in a husband, but was I everything he’d ever hoped for in a wife? Sometimes it felt like our life was perfect. Other times, I wondered what I was actually contributing to the relationship. On days like today, I had to force myself to get up. My heart had more questions than answers, and I wasn’t sure what to do with that.
“Good morning,” Bob smiled at me when he opened his eyes. He had the best damn smile in the world. He really did. He knew it, too. Ever since we’d known each other, he’d had an easy, comfortable grin. It seemed to spread over his face like syrup on pancakes, and it always shot straight to my heart.
“Good morning, pumpkin,” I leaned over and pressed my lips to his. We’d been together for a lifetime, but it still felt damn good to wake up next to him every day.
Not everyone was as lucky as we were.
I knew that.
Sometimes, people got married and they thought they were falling for the person of their dreams, only to discover that they didn’t really know the other person nearly as well as they thought they did. With Bob, that wasn’t a problem. With Bob, I knew exactly what I’d gotten myself into.
He’d never disappointed me.
“Are you ready for today?”
No, I wasn’t ready.
Not by a long shot.
It was the day before Valentine’s Day, but that wasn’t why today was big. Nope. It was big because our son, Matthew, was getting married.
It was his first – and hopefully, only – wedding.
It was going to be a huge, wonderful day, but no, I didn’t feel ready. Maybe that was just something that came with being a mom. Maybe you never really felt ready to say goodbye to your kid in that way.
Or maybe something was the matter with me.
“Absolutely,” I lied, pasting a smile on my face.
The truth was that while I was happy for Matthew, I still felt wildly reflective and a little bit sad about the fact that my “baby” was all grown up. This wasn’t like when he moved out or went to college. This wasn’t like when he got his first job.
No, this was something else.
This was something bigger.
I was proud of Matthew. He was a great man and his fiancé, Dora, was a complete sweetheart. Together, the two of them made Bob and I laugh and smile every chance they got. They were getting married tomorrow right here in Ashton. They’d chosen Valentine’s Day as their wedding day.
Predictable and cliché?
A bit.
Still wildly romantic?
Absolutely.
Bob and I shared the exact same anniversary, which made the day even more special. The two of us had chosen to get married on Valentine’s Day because we’d felt like it was a special, wonderful sort of day. We’d believed in true love and happy endings, and we’d wanted the world to know that.
You couldn’t make a bigger demonstration of romance than getting married on Valentine’s Day…could you?
“Liar,” Bob smiled, calling me out. He pushed a strand of hair back from my face. “You’re worried, aren’t you?”
“A little,” I admitted, blushing. It was kind of embarrassing to admit that I was feeling stressed or worried about such a special day.
“Why?”
“It’s a big commitment,” I said.
That much, at least, was true.
Bob watched me, considering me. When he looked at me that way, I knew he was about to ask me a very serious question. It was probably going to be one I didn’t really want to answer. Sure enough, he asked me something difficult.
“Do you regret getting married when we did?”
“No.”
Never.
I had never once regretted marrying Bob. I never could. He was too special. Too important. Too wonderful. He had been by my side through thick and thin. He’d never doubted me.
For some people, marriage felt like a trap. It had never been like that for me and Bob.
“Then why are you worried about Matthew?”
Bob’s question wasn’t mean, but it did put me on the spot a little bit. Why was I worried? Well, because he was my first child, for one thing.
Because it meant saying goodbye to a huge part of my life, for another.
“I don’t want to say goodbye,” I finally told him. That was a safe, comfortable way of wording what was bothering me.
“You aren’t saying goodbye.”
Bob was always so pragmatic about these sorts of things. He always seemed to be so matter-of-fact. I loved that about him, but right now, I also hated it. He didn’t really seem to understand why I might be a little worried about my child going off and getting married.
He didn’t understand that it had nothing to do with Matthew and everything to do with me.
My entire adult life, I’d been Matthew’s mom. That was how I identified myself. It was how I fit into the world when it came to relationships. When I met someone new, it was usually because they were Matthew’s friends, or Matthew’s teachers, or maybe Matthew’s soccer coach.
Now, though, he was going to be starting a family of his own, and he didn’t really need me anymore.
Nobody did.
Now, I wasn’t going to be “Matthew’s mom.”
Who was I going to be?
“When he moved out, I never really had empty nest syndrome,” I told Bob carefully, slowly. “It wasn’t really that big of a deal to me to say goodbye to that part of our life.”
“It was exciting,” Bob agreed.
“Now, though, it’s like he’s really cutting the apron strings.”
“Princess,” Bob said, cupping my cheek. “We cut those long ago. Matthew has been wildly independent since he was a kid. This is just the next step.”
“And I’m happy for him,” I told Bob. “But I worry sometimes about myself.”
“I’m not worried about you,” Bob told me.
That was good. It probably shouldn’t have calmed me down, but it did. Still, there
was something else. There was something else that was digging at my soul, threatening to sting me or hurt me, and I wasn’t sure how to put my feelings into words.
“I’m glad,” I finally said. Then I got out of bed and I headed to the bathroom to take my shower. I closed the door to the bathroom and turned the water on. Then I stood in front of the mirror and just looked at myself.
I looked old, and I looked tired, and I looked like I was carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders.
Well, crap.
So much for being the mother of the groom and looking my best.
Today was going to be rough.
2
Bob
Valentine’s Day was always a holiday I found rather ordinary, but that Helena loved. Each year, I’d do something special for her. Sometimes I’d buy chocolate and once in awhile I’d get her a big stuffed bear. No matter what the gifts we exchanged were, though, the most important thing was that we got to spend time together.
Our anniversary was on Valentine’s Day, as well. At the time, we’d both found the idea to be quite romantic. When you’re young, grand gestures are important. It’s one of the ways you prove to your beloved that you’re good enough for them. It’s how you show them that they’re important to you.
When Matthew and Dora chose the same day for their wedding, it had been a cute way to show they cared not only about each other, but about Helena and me. They’d chosen to commemorate our own marriage by starting theirs on the same way we had, only many years later.
This year, though, something was different about this special holiday.
Well, everything was different.
The biggest problem with this year was that Helena had thrown herself into wedding planning with Matthew and Dora. She’d allowed herself to get sucked into their excitement, which was important, but I could tell that she was wildly worried about what would come next.
What happened when the wedding was over?
What happened when our son wanted to spend time with his new bride?
There was this rumor, this cliché idea, that when a woman’s kids got married and moved out to start their own lives, that she would feel forgotten, somehow, and I was so afraid that Helena would feel that way. I knew I’d been clinging to her lately, but that was because I wanted her to know I was there for her. I wanted her to feel my support.
Judging by the way she got up and scurried to the bathroom this morning, I had a feeling I’d failed in my attempts of offering her my assistance and my help. Helena was a strong, independent woman. She always had been, and I was convinced that our son got his independent streak from her. That was perfectly fine with me.
I wanted to be surrounded by people who were happy, content, and excited about living their lives to the fullest.
Today, though, I needed to find a way to support my wife. She wasn’t ready to admit that she was having a problem, but it was okay. I’d been Helena’s husband for thirty years. I knew that sometimes, she needed space. Sometimes, she needed me. Either way, I’d wait until she was ready to ask for help. I’d wait until she was ready for me to care for her.
I stood, stretching in the bedroom. She was in the shower, and I knew from experience that she’d be in there for a good, long while.
Good.
She deserved a break.
I headed downstairs to make breakfast. I got the coffee going, fried up a couple of eggs, threw on the bacon, and by the time Helena was done with her shower and ready to start the day, breakfast was served. We ate in silence together and then I took my turn showering while she relaxed with a book. The dishes and cleanup could wait until later. That was something I’d learned long ago.
There was no need to stress about the little things, and if the dishes were one of the little things, then I didn’t need to be stressing about them.
By noon, the two of us were officially ready to start our days. We loaded up the truck with decorations and treats for the rehearsal dinner, and I drove us to the restaurant, Granny’s, where we’d be having the rehearsal dinner.
“Are you sure we got everything?”
“We’ve got it all,” I assured Helena.
“Good,” she nodded, leaning back in the front seat of the truck. I put on some tunes and we listened, humming along as we made our way to the restaurant.
Granny’s was a staple in Ashton. It was one of the cutest little restaurants in town, and it was a place where lots of different things had happened. People held birthday parties and receptions here. They had special lunches and first dates and from time-to-time, even the drunken mistake.
Tonight, though, it was going to be transformed into the place where the rehearsal dinner for our son and future-daughter-in-law would take place.
Well, at least the back room would be reserved.
Helena and I loaded our arms up with bags and boxes and headed inside. Granny herself was behind the front register, and she squealed when she saw us. Granny was old when I was a kid. By now she must have been pushing 90.
“You’re here,” she said.
“We’re here,” I agreed. “Is it okay if we start setting up?”
We’d rented the room for the entire day instead of just a couple of hours. By my calculations, that would make things much simpler. It meant that we didn’t need to worry about rushing when it came to decorating or cleaning up. We’d have all of the time in the world.
“Of course,” Granny agreed. She led us carefully through the tiny restaurant. It had a full wood interior with wooden floors and hand-carved wooden booths. Her husband had designed the tables long ago. Although he’d passed away, the furniture lived on. He’d done an incredible job.
Granny brought us to the back of the restaurant where there were two doors side-by-side. Strangely enough, these didn’t lead to the kitchen. Instead, they led to a cute little room where parties were held somewhat regularly. Tonight would be ours.
Correction: tonight would be our children’s.
I heard laughter and looked toward the front of the restaurant where Matthew and Dora had just arrived.
“Dad!” They both called for me at the same time and hurried over. Matthew took one of the boxes I was balancing from me, and Dora grabbed a bag.
“You beat us,” she laughed.
“I do my best to show up my kid as much as possible,” I joked.
Dora just shook her head.
“You’re the best. Is Granny already in the room?”
“She’s in there with Mom,” I confirmed.
“Let’s go, then,” Matthew patted me on the shoulder, somehow balancing the boxes on his other hand, and then the three of us headed into the party room. Granny was in there with Helena, just as I’d said, and the two of them were discussing table placement.
Dora hurried over to share her ideas. After all, it was her party. Matthew dropped the boxes carefully on the floor and then grinned.
“Less than a day away, Dad. Are you excited?”
“I’m excited,” I told him honestly. “It’s not every day your son gets married.”
“Hopefully, it’ll only be this one day,” Matthew said.
“Dora looks excited.”
We watched as she waved her arms around, excitedly sharing her thoughts with Granny and Helena about how the room should be arranged for the party tonight. Helena looked thoughtful, but she listened to every word Dora spoke, and then nodded in agreement.
Helena was wonderful at encouraging Dora and helping her to get the things she wanted most.
“She couldn’t sleep at all last night,” Matthew told me.
“It’s a big day. If I remember correctly, your mother was the same way before we got married.”
“Really?”
“Truly,” I laughed, shaking my head.
It was strange to think about that special day. It really had been so long ago. It felt like it was an eternity ago, even though it had only been 30 years. Sometimes the days seemed to crawl by. Other times, they seemed fas
t and wild. On days like today, it was easy to look back and feel like everything had happened in the blink of an eye.
3
Helena
The wedding rehearsal went off without a hitch.
Bob and I stood at the back of the tiny church where, 30 sweet years ago, the two of us had gotten married. Now we stood, watching our son take the same vows we ourselves had taken, and my heart melted a little bit.
Matthew looked at Dora with such love and devotion that it was hard to believe he’d once been a little boy who didn’t know what he wanted to be or do when he grew up. Now he knew. He had an incredible job, and he’d found an amazing bride, and they were about to create a lovely life together.
They’d already had a life together up until this point, of course, but they were solidifying that love. They were making the choice that yes, they wanted each other. They were choosing love.
They were choosing hope.
And I…
I remembered being a bride all of those years ago. As I watched Matthew and Dora practice their vows, I sat in the church pew and thought back to thirty years ago when it had been me standing up there.
*
Bob looked handsome. He smiled, shifting nervously from one foot to the other. Then he smiled at me.
“Are you ready?” Bob whispered the words, and I grinned, nodding.
Oh yeah.
I was ready.
My parents didn’t think that I was. Nobody thought that I was, but this was it. This was the moment I’d always dreamed about. Ever since I was a little girl, I’d wanted to get married in this church, and I’d wanted to get married to this man in particular.
Bob was the first person I’d ever loved, and I’d known since I was seven years old that he was the one I wanted to be with forever.
“You look beautiful,” he told me, running his eyes up and down the bright red dress I’d carefully chosen for the rehearsal. My mother had been insistent that I wear white, but I thought red brought my eyes out a little better.
