Candy Crush

by Tami Lund

  “We aren’t having sex on your desk. At least not as long as Amanda is in the reception area. These walls can’t be very thick.”

  “I could send her to lunch.”

  “It’s ten in the morning.”

  “Okay, fine. Another time then. So you just came by to tease me?”

  Gabriella rolled her eyes. “No. I came by to get more specific directions. I’m going to the mall. I need to stock up my wardrobe. I am in serious need of warm clothing.”

  “If you wait until later, I can go with you.”

  “Do you like to go shopping?”

  “No. I hate shopping.”

  Gabriella laughed. “I’ll be fine on my own. I’m looking forward to it, actually. I rarely had the opportunity to do anything on my own, for the past two years. Besides, I’m in the mood for some serious shopping, and it will only drive you nuts.”

  Brandon pulled her close and kissed her again and Gabriella began to reconsider his offer of having sex on his desk.

  “That was for not taking me up on my offer. I could get used to having you in my life, Sweet Pea.”

  ***

  Gabriella followed Brandon’s directions to the highway and headed south. She immediately began passing billboards announcing the mall was at exit eighty-four, which was more like fifteen miles from where she entered the highway, but that was okay. It was still a quick drive. There weren’t many people on the road on a rainy Monday during mid-morning. Everyone was either holed up at work or home, trying to avoid going out in this weather.

  Gabriella found the mall and then a parking space, relatively close to one of the entrances. She pulled up the hood on her rain slicker and rushed through the pelting rain to the warm and dry mall.

  She took her time, exploring the mall, wandering in and out of stores, trying on sweaters and coats, hats and gloves, boots, jeans and fleece pants. The fleece pants were so comfortable, she bought four pair, even though she’d never owned a piece of fleece clothing in her life. She decided she could get used to wearing a more casual and comfortable wardrobe.

  It was nearly three o’clock when she finally decided she was shopped out, or at least, her bank account probably couldn’t handle much more until she had some sort of income. She exchanged her rain slicker for the new black lined trench coat she’d just purchased and instantly felt warmer. She pulled up the hood and speed walked through the rain to her car.

  She pushed the button on her key fob that popped the trunk when she was still on the sidewalk and then rushed across the parking lot. She piled her shopping bags into the trunk and then turned around and was startled to see a car had pulled up behind her, blocking her ability to back out of the parking space. She hadn’t even heard it approach through the steady rain and the thick hood covering her head.

  The driver wore aviator mirror sunglasses and a black knit cap. He looked young, maybe even a teenager, and he didn’t look familiar. Not that she could really tell what he looked like. She couldn’t even tell the color of his hair because the cap was pulled so low. And really, how many people did she know in this area anyway?

  The driver rolled down the window and made a movement with his hand, drawing her attention to the inside of the car, where she saw a handgun lying in his lap. Gabriella’s eyes darted from side to side, and she was dismayed to see there wasn’t another person within eyesight. She suddenly wished she’d picked a bright sunny Saturday afternoon to go shopping. The parking lot would undoubtedly be swarming with people.

  “Hey bitch, you the owner of the candy store?”

  Gabriella clutched her purse to her chest and stepped back until her legs bumped into the bumper of her car.

  “Answer me,” the driver said, and laid his hand on the gun in his lap.

  Gabriella swallowed and nodded.

  “I have a message for you. Get the hell out of town. Close up that candy store and go away. Bad things happen to people associated with that place.”

  He rolled up the window and drove away, splashing water on Gabriella’s legs in the process.

  She stood, rooted to the spot, for an indeterminate period of time. A blast of damp, cold air hit her in the face and she blinked, as if waking from a trance, and realized she was still standing in the rain. She climbed into the car. Her hand shook as she worked to insert the key into the ignition. She fumbled and dropped the key chain twice before she was finally able to crank the engine and pull out of the parking space.

  She drove straight to Brandon’s office, parked on the street out front and stumbled in the front door. Amanda was not seated at her desk. Brandon looked up when she walked in the door and then jumped up in alarm.

  “What the hell? You’re soaking wet and you look like you saw a ghost. What happened?”

  He peeled off the coat, pushed her wet hair out of her face and pulled her into his arms. She was still shaking uncontrollably. He vigorously rubbed her back and asked again. “What happened?”

  “Gun,” she muttered and closed her eyes and leaned into his warmth. He really was her own personal furnace.

  It occurred to her that she should have called the police, and instead she had impulsively sought out Brandon, because somehow, she knew if she were with him, she would feel better.

  It was a scary thought.

  “Gun?” Brandon repeated, pushing her away and holding her at arm’s length.

  “Mall parking lot. Some guy pulled up behind me and threatened me. He had a gun.”

  ***

  Because his heart was suddenly beating double time, Brandon pulled her close and hugged her so hard she protested. He took several deep breaths, trying for some semblance of calm, and finally loosened his hold. “Did you call the police?”

  Gabriella shook her head. Her cheeks were tinged pink as she admitted, “I – I just wanted to get back to you.”

  Brandon’s breath hitched and he hugged her tightly again. “Tell me what happened.”

  Gabriella took a deep breath. “I was loading my bags into the trunk, and when I turned around, there was a car behind me. The guy rolled down the window and had a gun in his lap. He told me to close up the candy store and leave town.”

  Brandon’s arms tightened again. No matter what happened, the very last thing he wanted was for Gabriella to leave town. Okay, maybe the second to last. He didn’t exactly want her to get shot, either.

  He pushed her into the chair behind Amanda’s desk. “Stay there. Let me lock up and I’ll take you home. We can get my truck later. We’ll call the police from the house. You need to get into some dry clothes before you catch cold.”

  Gabriella looked down at her wet pant legs and didn’t say anything. Brandon left the room and reappeared moments later, wearing a grey Gore-Tex rain jacket. He pulled her out of the chair, helped her back into her coat and pushed her out the front door, turning off the lights and locking the door behind him.

  He pulled her keys out of her hand and helped her into the passenger seat, and then he ran around to the driver’s side and climbed into the car. When he arrived at his house, he pulled the car into the driveway, as close to the garage as he could, so they only had a short distance to dash to the back door.

  Brandon guided her into the house and Gabriella turned and said, “My bags – they’re in the trunk. Warm clothes.” So Brandon turned around and dashed back through the rain. He was back in minutes, his hands full of shopping bags.

  “Is there anything left at the mall?” he teased as he walked past her and shook off the hood of his coat. Butter, who had rushed out when they first opened the door, padded back in on his heels.

  They both shed their coats and shoes in the laundry room and Brandon suggested she strip out of her wet clothes there too. His surprisingly tough woman cocked an eyebrow and crossed her arms.

  Wait – His?

  He rolled his eyes. “You’ve just been traumatized by a gun-wielding stranger, Gabriella. I’m not going to take advantage of you in the laundry room.”

  Even though
he was a man of his word, that didn’t stop him from ogling her as she undressed. Gabriella was the singularly most beautiful woman he had ever met in his life. From her long flaxen hair to those expressive blue eyes and kissable, pouty lips. From her long neck and narrow shoulders to her perfect breasts, a handful each. Did he mention perfect?

  From her narrow waist to the slight flare of her hips, to those impossibly long legs. Perfect. And enticing as hell. He wished he hadn’t vowed not to take advantage of her, because frankly, that’s exactly what he wanted to do at the moment, if only to chase away that lingering fear in her eyes.

  When she was down to her bra and panties, Brandon turned and walked out of the room, heading upstairs to deposit her shopping bags. She followed. He deliberately carried the bags into his bedroom and placed them on the bed.

  “I’m going to call the Holly Police Department. I know it wasn’t in Holly, but it’s associated with the candy store, and – I’m going to guess – the dead body that was in your apartment.”

  He turned and left the room, striding downstairs to the kitchen, where he immediately pulled out his bottle of Maker’s Mark and poured a liberal dose. The bottle was more than half empty. Living with Gabriella was going to turn him into an alcoholic.

  He called the police dispatcher and requested they send a patrol car to his house. By the time Gabriella entered the kitchen wearing a pair of fleece pants and a fitted long-sleeve t-shirt, he felt he had his emotions reasonably under control. For the moment.

  “Here,” he said, pushing a lowball glass towards her. “Take a swallow. It will help calm your nerves.”

  Gabriella did as he said and then sank down on the bench behind the kitchen table.

  “I’m trying to figure out what to make for dinner,” Brandon said, because he needed to do something, anything, to keep himself busy. He wasn’t sure which of the two of them was more shaken up by her experience.

  “Something warm, like soup,” Gabriella suggested.

  There was a knock on the front door and Brandon and Butter went to investigate. When he opened the door, Brandon cursed. “Why is it always you who shows up?” He asked roughly, as he held the door open for Daniel Franks to walk through.

  “In case you haven’t noticed, we live in a small town. Not a lot of options when it comes to police officers. So what’s the story?” He wiped his shoes on the mat and pulled his hat off his head. Drops of rain showered off his coat as he pulled it off and hung it on a hook behind the door.

  “Gabriella was threatened at the mall today,” Brandon said, and motioned for Daniel to follow him through the house and into the kitchen.

  “The mall’s not in my jurisdiction,” Daniel pointed out. When he stepped into the kitchen he said, “Nice to see you again, Gabriella.”

  “I realize that,” Brandon said with a touch of impatience. “But she was threatened and told to close up the candy store and leave town.”

  Daniel’s face registered surprise. “I see.” He pulled a small notepad and a pen out of the pocket on his uniform shirt. “Let’s start at the beginning,” he said as he sat down and prepared to take notes.

  Half an hour later, he read through his notes and said, “Let me see if I have this straight. Someone threatened you in the mall parking lot. You know he had a gun because you saw the gun sitting on his lap. You have no idea what kind of gun, because you know nothing about guns. You know he was male, you know he was Caucasian, and you think he was young, possibly teens. You have no idea what color hair or eyes. He had no facial hair, no scars, no tattoos, no piercings, or at least not anything you can recall. You know he was driving a car but you can’t even tell me the make and model, let alone the license plate number.”

  The more he talked, the more furious Brandon became. He was making Gabriella out to be the world’s worst witness, just because she had been too shell-shocked to notice a bunch of normally irrelevant details. Hell, Brandon would probably be the same way, if he’d been in the same situation.

  “Cut her a fucking break, Daniel. She’s never been threatened with a gun before.” He had no idea if that was true, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to let Daniel Franks give her an emotional beating. She had already been through enough.

  Brandon’s agitation was due in part because Daniel was in his house and he truly loathed the man, but it was also because Daniel was making Gabriella sound like a complete idiot, and that really boiled Brandon’s blood. He should have downed a second shot of Maker’s Mark, just to help take the edge off of dealing with the overbearing, uncaring, insulting police officer. Daniel Franks was an asshole four years ago when he took advantage of Brandon’s little sister and then never manned up and claimed Lacey as his own, and he was still an asshole for harassing Brandon’s girl –

  “Shit.”

  Daniel and Gabriella both turned and gave him dual questioning looks. When Brandon did not expound, Daniel said, “Well, I’ll add it to the file on the body we found in your apartment, Gabriella, but I have to be honest and tell you that I don’t have much to go on.”

  “I understand,” she said quietly.

  “Are you still planning to stick around?”

  Gabriella glanced up and looked at Brandon. His eyes were closed, almost as if he were praying. Almost, hell.

  “Yes. I’m still planning to stick around. I’ll just be more observant from now on.”

  Brandon let out the breath he had been holding and actually did utter a short prayer of thanks.

  There was a knock on the back door and then the door opened and a female voice called out, “Hello? Anybody home?” Brandon pushed away from where he’d been leaning on the counter and walked into the laundry room with Butter on his heels.

  A little girl squealed and said, “Uncle Brandon! You have a dog! What’s her name?”

  ***

  Gabriella glanced at Daniel and noticed his face paled and his features became more pinched and drawn. His eyes darted to the opposite kitchen door, almost as if he were considering whether he could make a break for it.

  Laney came around the corner and spotted Gabriella. “Gabby! This is your dog? I love her!” She rushed into Gabriella’s arms.

  Daniel’s featured sharpened. “You know Courtney’s kid?” he asked Gabriella.

  She nodded. “I had dinner with them last night.”

  “Hello, Mr. Police Man,” Laney said to Daniel.

  He nodded and didn’t say anything and she wrinkled her nose at him. Gabriella watched as a pained expression crossed over his face, so briefly that she thought she might have imagined it. She wondered if Daniel regretted the decision to not be a part of his daughter’s life.

  Daniel abruptly straightened and closed his notebook. “I have to get going. I’ll let you know if anything comes of this. Just be careful and pay more attention to your surroundings. And next time, call the cops from the scene, not an hour later from home.” He turned and headed towards the front door.

  Gabriella stood up and followed.

  “Oh, and I almost forgot: you should have your store back tomorrow. The crime scene boys have gotten everything they can out of it.” He didn’t seem particularly pleased with this decision, but Gabriella supposed no police officer liked to come up against a dead end, especially when murder was possibly involved.

  After seeing him out, Gabriella headed back into the kitchen. Brandon stood at the counter, chopping vegetables. Rosalie stood near the back door and Laney sat on the bench, eating a sliced apple.

  “I wasn’t expecting you to be home so early,” Rosalie commented to Brandon, as Gabriella entered the room.

  “Then why did you come by?” Brandon asked. He dumped onion and garlic into a Dutch oven full of simmering chicken stock and began chopping celery.

  “I assumed Gabriella would be here. I wanted to see if I could leave Laney for a few hours, while I run some errands.”

  “You met Gabriella once and you’re willing to leave your granddaughter in her care?”

  R
osalie looked shocked. “Of course. You brought her to dinner. That means she’s perfectly safe and respectable.”

  “Patrick brings all of his dates to dinner.”

  “Patrick isn’t you.”

  “I know. Patrick wants to get married, and he keeps parading girls in front of you, hoping you’ll approve of one of them so he can ask her.”

  “He doesn’t need my approval.”

  Brandon snorted.

  Rosalie thrust out her chin. “I don’t approve of Stephanie. Why hasn’t she gone away?”

  “She’s tenacious. You might want to pull out the big guns. She seems hell bent on marrying into this family.”

  Rosalie gave him a look and he put up his hands, palms out. “I never slept with her. She’s too damn clingy.” His eyes strayed to Gabriella, who stood in the doorway listening to the conversation.

  “I wish Natalie never left. She was perfect for him.” Rosalie sighed and turned slightly, presumably to include Gabriella in the conversation. “I have to run a few errands. Would the two of you mind if Laney hung out here for a couple of hours?”

  “Sure,” Brandon responded. “I’m making vegetable soup. There’ll be plenty.”

  “Bread?” Laney piped up from the bench.

  “Plenty of bread, kiddo.”

  “See you in a little while.” Rosalie bent and kissed Laney’s forehead and left.

  “Was that contrived?” Gabriella asked as she stepped over to the bench to sit down next to Laney.

  “Yep. I think she intended to leave her with you.”

  “How come?”

  “A test. Make sure you are mother material, probably. I brought you home for dinner, so of course she assumes you are the one, but she just needs to make sure, for her own piece of mind.”

  “I’m not sure I’m comfortable with this whole the one stuff.”

  “Me neither, Sweet Pea. And I’ve had thirty-two years to get used to it. You’ve only had a day.”

  “Can you make them stop?”

  “Nope.”

  CHAPTER NINE

  On Tuesday morning, Brandon woke up and pushed the snooze button on the alarm clock. He glanced down and looked at Gabriella, snuggled into the crook of his arm, and he thought, I could get used to this. Hell, I’m already used to this.