Candy Crush

by Tami Lund

Gabriella woke up slowly on Saturday morning. She was snuggled deep into feather pillows and a down comforter on a bed she literally sank into, it was so soft. This was not like any bed she had slept in before. Not even the night before.

  Her eyes popped open, and she looked around the room, trying to orientate herself. She sat up and felt her abdominal muscles protest. She glanced down and pulled up her shirt. The purple bruise reminded her of everything that happened the day before, and she dropped back onto the pillows.

  She was in Brandon’s bed, although she was pretty sure she’d slept in it alone. Which was considerate and depressing all at once. Not that she had been in any condition to do anything more than sleep last night, but still. There was a tap on the door and then Brandon walked in with Butter on his heels.

  “Good morning, sleepy head.”

  “Morning,” Gabriella responded. She stretched and yawned and then blushed when she saw Brandon blatantly staring at her chest.

  “How are the injuries?” he asked after she tugged the blanket up over her traitorous nipples.

  “They hurt. I think I can actually move my knee now though.”

  “That’s good news. Otherwise we’d be making a trip to the emergency room today.”

  “Where did you sleep?”

  “In your bed. It smells like you, so I closed my eyes and pretended.” He gave her a wolfish grin.

  Her blush deepened. What did he mean by pretend? Did he…? Would he…? She cleared her throat, tried to act flip in an effort to hide her discomfort. “I like yours better. Want to trade?”

  His response was instantaneous and firm. “Hell no. You can sleep in my bed anytime you want, Sweet Pea, but last night was the last time you do it alone. And you probably won’t get much sleep the next time.”

  She supposed that the good news was, with Brandon, she would never have to wonder at his intentions. He had no qualms about speaking them out loud, clearly spelling them out, ensuring she could in no way misconstrue what he meant.

  With an audible gulp, Gabriella threw back the covers. The ice pack was still wrapped around her knee, although it was room temperature at this point. She unwound the bandage and was dismayed to see that while her knee was no longer swollen, it had turned varying shades of green, purple and blue.

  “That’s good,” Brandon commented as he bent over the bed to inspect her injury. “Means it’s healing.”

  Gabriella experimentally bent and straightened her knee, and while it hurt, at least it was moving. She swung her legs over the side of the bed and Brandon held out a hand to help her stand.

  “You sure are awfully nice for being such a bad boy,” Gabriella commented as he helped her walk to the bathroom.

  “I was raised right. Wait till you meet my mother. Speaking of which, we’re due for dinner at her house tomorrow.”

  “We?”

  “Yes. She wants to meet you.”

  “Why?”

  “Aunt Korina and Aunt Constance told her about you.”

  “What did you say about me?”

  “I said you’re beautiful and smart and you won’t sleep with me.”

  “You said that to your mother?”

  Brandon laughed. “Yep. You’re her new hero. And I probably shouldn’t tell you these things because then you’ll never sleep with me.”

  Gabriella hobbled into the bathroom and closed the door in his face. She took an inordinate amount of time preparing herself for the day, not because she needed to or wanted to, but because she needed the time alone. She needed to clear her head, to straighten out her decidedly bent thoughts. She needed to force herself not to read into the fact that Brandon had not only told his mother about her, but was taking her to dinner, at his parents’ house.

  She was absolutely certain Brandon was not the type of man who took many women home to meet his mother. He had made his intentions about their future together – or lack thereof – exceedingly clear, and generally when a man took a woman home to meet mom, it wasn’t to say, “Hey, this is my current lay.”

  He was such a paradox. He was blatant and open about wanting to sleep with her. He was too damn nice for her own good. He was considerate and helpful and seemed to know when to pull back on the teasing and flirtation.

  Oh yeah, and he was so damn hot she was pretty sure her panties really were melting.

  But he was a playboy, little more than a one-night stand kind of guy. No interest in forever, no interest in marriage or kids or any of that future, long-term business.

  Hell, Gabriella ought to be thrilled. After what she went through with Miguel, a short-term affair should sound perfect. While she had a steady dose of sex over the course of the last two years, it had been mediocre at best, and Brandon promised the sort of sex she had only ever read about in smutty romance novels. Why was she denying herself that pleasure?

  Because despite her determination when she first arrived in town, despite what she went through with Miguel, she really did want it all – marriage, kids, happily ever after. She said as much to Brandon, when she told him about Miguel, hadn’t she?

  If he asked me to marry him because he loved me, I probably would have done it.

  She wanted to be in love just as much as the next girl. And Brandon was just the sort of guy that could make a girl fall, awfully damn easily. Too damn easily.

  That was the reason she needed to hold fast to her virtue, to tighten that imaginary chastity belt. She knew, without a single smidgen of doubt, that to fall into bed with Brandon Sarantos was to fall in love with Brandon Sarantos, and would, eventually, lead to one hell of a broken heart.

  When she finally emerged from the bathroom, Brandon was gone from the hallway. She could hear faint sounds drifting up the stairs, indicative of the fact that he was downstairs. She hobbled down the hall to the guest room so that she could get dressed. When she made her way downstairs, she wore a black long sleeve, v-neck t-shirt and khaki pants and felt reasonably certain she had her head on straight again. Mostly.

  Brandon stood at the counter in the kitchen, preparing breakfast. He wore jeans and a t-shirt with a blue and black flannel shirt unbuttoned over the t-shirt. Gabriella’s mouth began salivating as the apex of her thighs warmed, and for a moment she forgot all about having her head on straight. She wanted to be crooked with him. No, horizontal. Oh hell, they didn’t even have to be horizontal.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” Brandon asked, interrupting her inner conversation.

  She fought the blush staining her cheeks and turned her head to the side. “Sorry.”

  “Don’t be. Sort of made me feel like I was a juicy steak and you were thinking about taking a bite. Feel free,” he suggested, and Gabriella groaned. He laughed and walked over to the refrigerator.

  “Sit,” he said, pointing at the built in bench seat that sat behind the kitchen table. “I’ll re-wrap your knee.”

  She obediently did as he said, and then watched with wide eyes as he expertly applied an ice pack and wrapped her knee with the elastic bandage. He was kneeling in front her of, her knees were slightly spread, and her mind was firmly in the gutter. She didn’t want him to wrap her knee, she wanted him to peel her pants off and push her panties to the side and –

  “Here,” he said, once again interrupting her thoughts. She blinked and realized he was holding a second ice pack. “For your stomach.”

  “Oh.” She accepted the ice pack and pressed it to her stomach, while he returned to preparing breakfast. As heated as her body currently felt, both ice packs would probably be melted before they finished breakfast.

  He placed two plates on the table. The plates were overflowing with scrambled eggs mixed with cheese and red and green bell peppers, bacon and sliced apples. He then added two glasses of orange juice and two cups of coffee.

  “Gosh, you’re going to spoil me,” Gabriella commented as she sipped coffee.

  “Keep that in mind next time you consider having sex with me. Maybe it will be the deciding factor.”<
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  “I’ve noticed you’ve stopped abiding by rule number two,” Gabriella said, because she really needed him to behave. She was having a far too difficult time doing so.

  “No I haven’t. I’m making sexual innuendos, not making moves on you. Making moves on you is what keeps happening in my laundry room. Which, by the way, I think we should visit after breakfast.”

  Gabriella tried to scowl but she couldn’t contain her giggle long enough to make it stick. “You’re incorrigible,” she said between bites of egg. When had she started liking incorrigible men so much?

  “Damn, you’re half insulting me and it sounds sexy. How is that possible?”

  Gabriella shrugged and continued eating.

  “So what do you want to do today, now that we have the whole day free?”

  “Actually, tomorrow I was going to ask you to drive me around town and show me where various necessary places are, like the grocery store and such.”

  “Okay, so we’ll do that tomorrow. We can do it on the way to my parents’ house. Today I was thinking along the lines of something else, but I’m not sure if you can handle it with your knee messed up.”

  “It doesn’t hurt quite so bad anymore. I took some more ibuprofen. What are you thinking?”

  “A ride in the country, checking out the colors and visiting an apple orchard. There is nothing quite like fresh cider and donuts at this time of year.”

  “I’m intrigued. I’ve never visited an apple orchard before.”

  “Seriously?” Brandon sounded utterly shocked.

  “Really. I lived in Dallas, remember? Not exactly apple country.”

  “Okay, pack your ibuprofen because we are definitely going now. You have no idea what you have been missing. Come on, let me show you how we’re getting there.”

  He stood up and took her hand, tugging her to her feet. They walked into the laundry room and he turned and arched his eyebrows. He continued to the back door when Gabriella rolled her eyes.

  “I’m not wearing shoes,” Gabriella protested as Brandon tugged her through the back door.

  “Me neither. We’re just walking to the garage.”

  They walked the short distance to the garage, with Butter trotting along at their heels. Brandon used the key he grabbed on his way out the door to open the side door leading into the garage. He stepped inside and flipped on a switch. Gabriella saw all of her earthly possessions, save her clothes and personal items, carefully piled in a corner. And she saw something with two wheels, covered with a black cloth. Brandon grinned like a boy as he walked over and with a flourish, pulled off the cloth.

  “It’s a motorcycle.” Gabriella said without the enthusiasm Brandon had obviously been hoping for.

  “It’s a Harley,” he said, as if that explained his excitement. And, Gabriella supposed, it probably did. She was not a motorcycle girl, although a past boyfriend had been into motorcycles, so she’d ridden before. And because of that past boyfriend, she also understood the excitement, the American pride over owning and riding a Harley.

  ***

  “This is going to be interesting,” she said with a laugh, and because he couldn’t help himself, Brandon picked her up and swung her in a circle before setting her gently back on her feet.

  She angled her face up and he decided to assume she wanted a kiss. He leaned back onto the Harley’s seat and pulled her close, opening his knees so she could shift closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rubbed herself against him. Brandon groaned and slipped his hands underneath her shirt. One hand cupped her breast. Gabriella arched into him. She shifted her weight and then let out a startled gasp as her knee buckled.

  Brandon caught her and pulled her tightly against him. Gabriella broke the kiss and tried to step back. “Sorry,” she said, panting a little and sounding breathless. “I guess I still can’t stand for very long.”

  “I’ll be happy to carry you up to the bedroom,” Brandon suggested, but he could tell she’d gotten her senses back, damn it.

  “I think we should go to the apple orchard instead.”

  “Of course you do,” Brandon snapped, not bothering to hide his irritation.

  “Hey, I’m keeping my best interests at heart right now. I need a place to stay, indefinitely for the moment. And the best way to ensure I can stay here is by not sleeping with you.”

  “That is a load of shit, and you know it. I would not kick you out just because we finally sleep together.”

  “Maybe not, because you really are a nice guy, but you certainly wouldn’t want me around afterward.”

  “Why do you say things like that, Gabriella?” He didn’t bother to hide his exasperation.

  “Brandon, you’re the one who told me all about your reputation, and you made it clear that it is well-deserved. I’m not interested in becoming a notch on your bedpost.”

  “I don’t keep notches on my bedpost.”

  “It’s a figure out speech.”

  “Whatever. I don’t… Keep track of how many women I sleep with. I just” – He struggled to find the right words, and he realized whatever he said would not help his cause with Gabriella.

  The fact of the matter was, she knew exactly what kind of man he was, and she was not willing to play his game. She wanted much more than a one-night stand, and if he wasn’t willing to give it to her, he wasn’t going to get her. His frustration mounted. “If I said you were different, would you believe me?”

  “No.”

  “Well, shit. What the hell am I supposed to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Gabriella admitted. She sighed. “Let’s just go to the apple orchard. What should I wear?”

  Brandon gave her the once over and, still smarting, said, “You look fine. Wear tennis shoes. I have an extra leather jacket and helmet you can wear.” Then he sighed, because despite it all, he still wanted to spend the day hanging out with her. “When do you want to go?”

  “Just give me a few minutes, and I’m ready whenever you are.”

  Twenty minutes later, they stood in the driveway next to the Harley. Brandon helped her into his second leather jacket and helped her secure the helmet on her head. “Ready?” he asked, and she nodded.

  He climbed onto the bike and with a practiced kick, it roared to life. Gabriella climbed on behind him and wrapped her legs around his hips. The engine purred loudly between their legs. She wrapped her arms around his waist and pulled her legs tighter around his hips, and Brandon spared a moment to revel in the feel, to imagine what it would be like if he turned around and she wrapped her legs around his waist, with no clothing as a barrier between them…

  He revved the engine and twisted the throttle and the bike gave a jerk as it rolled down the driveway.

  In no time at all, they were out in the country, roaring down a two-lane road. They passed field after field of corn, the stalks dried, brown and rustling in the light breeze. They passed fields of soy beans, the leaves just starting to yellow, and fields of freshly tilled soil, prepared and ready for the long winter wait before something would be planted again in the spring.

  Periodically, they passed clumps of trees and he heard Gabriella exclaim over the vivid colors: red, orange and yellow, set against a backdrop of green pines and evergreens and those late-turning trees that were still clinging to the hope of summer.

  Farm houses dotted the landscape here and there, and every once in a while they would pass a lake or stream, the water sparkling and blue in the early fall sunshine. Eventually, they turned down a dirt road, and were almost totally enveloped in huge trees, oak and maple and cottonwood, draping their multicolored leaves over the road. It was a welcome respite from the sun baking down on them earlier.

  The canopy of trees abruptly gave way and they were surrounded on both sides by rows and rows of stout apple trees, branches heavy with the fruit of summer. Brandon guided the bike onto a long, winding driveway and finally pulled it into a parking space in the far corner of a dirt-packed parking lot, which was already more
than half full of other vehicles. Gabriella fairly leapt off the bike and struggled to get her helmet off. Brandon laughed and helped.

  “This is spectacular,” she enthused once she was free of the helmet. She ran her fingers through her hair, which had come loose of its braid, and tried to look everywhere at once, while he stared at her.

  She’s beautiful. No matter what the circumstances, she’s always beautiful.

  He recognized that these were dangerous thoughts, but he dismissed the concern. Today was a day for fun, just plain, simple fun, without any strings, without any worries or dead bodies or annoyance at the fact that the woman clearly wanted him but steadily refused to do anything about it.

  The place was teeming with people. There was a small store to the left, where they could buy fresh produce, apple cider and fresh, hot donuts almost the moment they were pulled out of the fryer. To the right a sign directed them to a hayride, which they could ride out to the pumpkin patch and select their very own pumpkin for Halloween. Other signs told them they could pick their own apples, as well as raspberries, strawberries and blueberries, when they were in season. There was even a playground for kids.

  Brandon laughed again and said, “You haven’t even left the parking lot yet.”

  She grinned up at him, unabashedly joyful. “I’ve never seen anything like this before. It’s amazing.”

  “Well, I’m glad you like it,” he said, and he meant it. He wanted her to be happy. “Come on, let’s go have a look around. We can ride the hayride if you want, but I don’t think we can manage to bring a pumpkin home with us on the bike.”

  “Let’s go on it anyway.”

  “Anything you want, Sweet Pea.” He realized the words were true. If he could, he really would give her anything she wanted. Despite the fact that she kept rebuffing his attempts to get her into his bed. With him.

  He grabbed her hand and led her toward the line of people waiting for the hayride. They sat on the back of the wagon with their legs dangled off the edge, laughing and joking like school children. Gabriella was thoroughly enjoying her new experience and Brandon was thoroughly enjoying her excitement. He tried to recall the last time he had so much fun, and he honestly couldn’t. Certainly not in his adult life.