Sugar And Spice (Holidays: Valentine)

by Charlotte French

  Amy turned her attention to Crissy and reached across the table to take her hand. “We might be crazy stupid in love with each other, Cris, but I won’t lie. Manny drives me insane sometimes.”

  “Hey,” Manu protested with a gentle elbow to Amy’s ribs. For a second, they tussled and wrestled and poked at each other before Manu let Amy shove her shoulder against him, pinning him to the wall. And he gave a mock sigh in acceptance of his defeat.

  Amy didn’t ease up on Manu as she propped her elbows on the table and rested her chin in her hands, looking at Crissy.

  “Do you really think this is something you can work out with Quinn?” she asked.

  Crissy glanced down at the table top, tipping the rolling pin back and forth between her hands. She’d like to say yes, but she was still too raw and tender from yesterday’s events.

  “No,” she whispered. “I think…we’re…” The last word caught in her throat. Done. She’d wanted this too much. She’d rushed in without thinking, again, and she had arrived at the exact same place: hurt.

  No one spoke, the only sound in the shop was the rolling pin grating back and forth on the table top.

  “I think part of it was my fault,” she said, her voice so small in the silence.

  Amy growled. “Sugar, I highly doubt that. I…”

  Manu cut her off as he tucked his hand around her waist. “Let her talk, babe,” he whispered.

  Crissy kept her gaze on the rolling pin, back and forth, back and forth. “I brought him food. Turnovers. His favorites. ‘Cause I thought maybe that would make things easier. I always feel better with food. But he…didn’t want them. He said…”

  The words lodged in her throat and she swallowed, then swallowed again, in an effort to force them out.

  “He asked if everything was about food with me and I…”

  Amy sat up straight in the booth and gripped the table until her knuckles turned white. Slowly, Manu reached across the table and slid the rolling pin out of Crissy’s grasp.

  “I’ll be right back,” he said.

  Crissy snagged the rolling pin and held it to her chest. “Stop taking my rolling pin. It’s for bread not violence.”

  “Sugar, I’ve seen you waling on that bread before,” Amy said. “You are plenty capable of violence all on your own.” She slipped in next to Crissy. “Why didn’t you call me yesterday and tell me? I would have been over right away.”

  “You deserve a weekend,” Crissy said, her eyes burning with the threat of tears again. “You always work so hard. And you’ve already picked me up before, I wanted…to not fall apart this time. Over him.”

  Amy tucked a strand of hair behind Crissy’s ear. “Sugar, it’s perfectly all right to be upset, you don’t have to hide that kind of stuff from me. I appreciate the gesture, but it’s not necessary.” She patted Crissy’s knee. “Now come on. Get dressed. The three of us, we’re getting you out of this little town for the day.”

  She reached for the rolling pin but Crissy tightened her grip with a wary look.

  “Only bread, I know, I know,” Amy said and kissed Crissy’s forehead. “I’m so sorry, sugar,” she whispered.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  Crissy spent the day with Amy and Manu, going to the movies and dinner and even wandering a few stores for new pots and pans for the kitchen. And Crissy didn’t think about Quinn once.

  But at the end of the day, when Manu pulled to a stop outside the coffee shop, Crissy sighed. Her carriage had turned into a pumpkin again and it was time to get back to reality. As she reached for the door, Amy put a hand on her shoulder.

  “You’re going to spend the night at our place,” she said.

  “But…”

  “No buts!” Amy said, closing her eyes and tipping her chin up. “I’m holding you hostage.”

  “For more chocolate covered strawberries?” Crissy teased.

  Amy cast her a sly look. “That could be arranged. But that’s not my reason. You’re staying for a sleepover.”

  “Oh no,” Manu groaned in a mock pained tone. “The last time you girls had a sleepover, you had a Disney sing-along marathon until four in the morning.”

  Amy snickered and brushed her hand through Manu’s hair. “I promise, no Disney this time.” She glanced back at Crissy. “You up for it?”

  Crissy looked out her window again, at the blank face of the coffee shop. She loved her job, she really did, but she’d enjoyed today, getting away from her life and all the problems she wished would just go away if she didn’t think about them long enough. Maybe it would be nice to drag out this rare opportunity at a break for a little while longer.

  “All right,” Crissy said. “But I have to be here to open up in the morning. And I haven’t baked anything all day. I’m itchy.”

  Amy beamed and patted Manu’s shoulder. “Take us home, Manny. Cris, you can always cook up something at our place.”

  “You’ve only got a finicky microwave,” she pointed out.

  Amy feigned hurt. “I make awesome popcorn with that microwave.”

  “You burned the popcorn so bad last time, the apartment building had to evacuate because of the smoke,” Manu added.

  Amy punched his shoulder and laughed. “You jerk. See how you like sleeping on the floor tonight.”

  “You girls will be giggling all night anyway.”

  “You’re right, Crissy!” Amy declared. “Who needs men? Let’s go start a tribe of Amazonian women in the depths of the rainforest and live on mangoes and bugs.”

  “Ew?” Crissy said. “How about no?”

  Manu chuckled and leaned over to kiss Amy’s cheek.

  “You two are disgusting,” Crissy quipped from the backseat.

  Amy grinned. “I know.”

  Crissy and Amy piled blankets and pillows in the middle of Amy and Manu’s tiny living room floor and watched Disney movies until four in the morning, singing at the top of their lungs, punch-drunk on exhaustion and too many chocolate covered strawberries. Just as Crissy was drifting off to sleep, staring at the ceiling, her head still buzzing a little from the sugar rush, she thought maybe she’d be okay after all. Maybe she’d hurt for a while longer. Maybe she’d swear off any kind of relationship until she really got her feet back under her again. But she would be okay.

  Come morning, Crissy and Amy sat up, groggy and hazy from lack of sleep, while Manu pressed coffee cups into their hands. He gave Amy a quick kiss.

  “Have to get going,” he said. “One of the boys got stuck off the highway so I’ll have to swing by and pick him up before we get to the studio for practice.”

  Amy rubbed at her eyes, squinted, and hugged her coffee a little tighter.

  “You sure you can handle the snow?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “If I can’t, I’ll call you and you can save my ass again.”

  Amy smiled, sleepy, dream-like, and tipped her face up to kiss him again before he headed out the door.

  Crissy set her coffee cup aside and burrowed under the blankets. She heard Amy crawl a little closer then felt Amy drape herself over Crissy’s back with a sigh, stretched out like a cat.

  The door creaked open again but neither Crissy nor Amy moved until Manu spoke.

  “Fifteen minutes to opening time by the way,” he said with a chuckle.

  Crissy jerked upright and Amy rolled to the floor with an indignant squawk. Amy tossed a pillow at Manu but he slipped out the door with a laugh and the pillow bounced to the floor.

  “Dibs on the shower!” Crissy called as she shouldered past Amy to the bathroom.

  With minutes to spare, Crissy and Amy bumbled together out of Amy’s apartment and onto the street. They scrunched up against the cold, noses burrowed beneath their scarves, as they hurried the block and a half to the shop. Crissy had never been late in her life when she started this job and she wasn’t about to start now. And somehow, out of sheer determination, she opened up shop on time again.

  It felt good to be back in her kitchen, surround
ed by sugar and flour and butter. It felt good to knead bread dough until she lost herself in the rhythm of pull and push, pull and push.

  Sometime after the breakfast rush had slowed to a lull and only a handful of regular customers were lingering over their coffee and pastries, Crissy heard Amy’s voice pitched low in a sharp hiss. Then the bell over the door tinkled and there was silence. Crissy paused and turned the heat off as she continued to stir the toffee to cool it off a bit. She slid the pot off the burner and poked her head out of the kitchen.

  Amy stood outside on the sidewalk, nose to nose with Quinn, jabbing her finger at him as he leaned away from her, looking completely confused and more than a little terrified. Crissy let out a frantic little yelp and ran out of the shop.

  “How dare you treat her like that!” Amy said. “She’s the nicest person I’ve ever known and you just…”

  “Amy!” Crissy forced her way between Amy and Quinn. “Amy, no, stop, it’s all right.”

  “No, it’s not all right,” Amy protested. “It’s not okay at all. I’m not finished.”

  “Please,” Crissy said, lowering her voice, her hand on Amy’s shoulder. “Let me talk to him for a minute.”

  Amy glared. For a moment, Crissy thought Amy wouldn’t relent, but finally Amy huffed and stalked into the shop. Crissy turned to face Quinn. Her gaze traveled up and up until finally she was looking him in the eye again.

  “I need to explain,” Quinn said before she could say anything. “Because what happened two days ago….that was a disaster.”

  Crissy nodded. “Yes it was.” She paused then added, “But I’d rather not make it worse by saying anything more.”

  Quinn blinked, startled. “Even if you…”

  Amy hurtled out of the shop, eyes wide. “Crissy, the kitchen’s on fire.”

  For a split second, Crissy stood rooted to the spot, heart thundering in her chest and an icy dread sliding over her skin. Then Quinn charged past her and Crissy snapped out of her stupor to follow.

  Flames licked up from the burner Crissy had been using minutes ago. Black scorch marks lined the wall and the ceiling. Quinn grabbed a dish towel and attempted to tamp out the fire but it only climbed higher. Sparks dropped and danced across the counter top before Crissy stamped them out with an oven mitt.

  Quinn whipped around, scanning the kitchen. “Extinguisher?” he said.

  Crissy pointed. “That cabinet, next to the stove.”

  He ripped it open, grabbed the extinguisher and doused the stove until the fire died out and the flames were gone. Smoke still lingered in the kitchen, thick and stinging. Crissy and Quinn’s ragged breathing filled the silence.

  Quinn glanced at her, arm outstretched. “You okay?”

  Crissy nodded, unable to tear her gaze away from the mess of her kitchen. The eclairs that had been cooling on the counter were ruined. The toffee on the stove had been reduced to a brittle crackling, blackened mess. Then the realization hit her, smack in the gut. She could have lost this whole place just that fast.

  Quinn cupped her elbow. “Crissy,” he said. “You’re shaking. Sit down for a minute.”

  Crissy slid to the floor, her back to the cabinets on the other side of the kitchen, taking in gulping, wobbly breaths. Quinn crouched in front of her, his fingers still pressed against her skin just where the sleeve of her t-shirt ended.

  “Did I…forget to turn off the burner?” she wheezed. “What happened?”

  Quinn released her and moved towards the stove, looking it over. He tugged it away from the wall, reached into a pocket of his cargo pants and pulled out a flashlight. He didn’t say anything for a while as he poked around until finally he returned to her side and sat next to her.

  “Looks like it was electrical,” he said. “The wiring is pretty sketchy. Dangerous too. Please tell me you don’t do the maintenance around here all by yourself too.”

  Crissy shook her head. “That’s Mr. Scott’s job. He’s the owner. He’s a sweet little old man but he can’t keep up with this place.”

  “Well, if it’s not fixed, you’re going to have more fires like that. Worse ones. The whole stove needs to be replaced along with some of the wiring. I’ve got a little experience in that department, could have it done in a few days tops.”

  Crissy glanced over at him. Now that the panic had edged off, she became aware of his shoulder pressed against hers, the skin of his arm brushing her elbow. She glanced away again and stood, dusting herself off.

  “You’ve already done so much,” she said. “And I…”

  “Before you…” Quinn cut in then stopped, hesitated. “Before you say…what I think you’re going to say, I owe you an apology. For what I said two days ago. I was out of line. And I was…” He paused, shook his head with a frown as he stared at the toes of his boots. “So, so stupid.”

  Crissy’s heart ached for him then. Despite how upset she’d been, how hurt she’d been, she still wanted to reach out and comfort him. Quinn raised his head and met her gaze.

  “I should have told you sooner, I know,” he said. “I just…thought I’d screw it up even worse. And when I came by last night, the place was dark and I couldn’t find you.”

  Crissy stepped towards him until her toes were nearly touching his. She took in a breath and let her fingers trail through his hair.

  “I like you, Quinn,” she said. “It scares me half to death, but it’s true. I just…don’t want to get hurt.”

  Quinn placed his hand over hers, rubbing his thumb across the back of her knuckles. Her small hand was completely lost in his giant palm.

  “The last thing I want to do is hurt you,” he whispered. “Believe me.”

  Crissy sighed and, without pulling her hand away from Quinn, she sat down next to him, purposefully pressing her shoulder into his now, to ground her, to keep her calm and steady in the face of what she was about to say.

  “Two years ago,” she said. “I was engaged. But he was…very mean. Cruel.” She couldn’t look at him as she talked, studying his fingers interlaced with hers. “The night we were engaged…he…said that…he didn’t want to be married to a fat bride so I’d better stop obsessing over food.”

  “Asshole,” Quinn growled.

  Crissy glanced up at him and his face was dark, the muscle in his jaw tight. Then after a moment, his face cleared and his gaze flickered to her, concerned.

  “What I said…” he started. He shifted, took her other hand. “That is not what I meant. No. Not…oh, god.”

  Crissy felt her throat tighten as the emotions wrestled in her mind. She wanted to believe him, she wanted him to be good. She loved the way his hands fit around hers. She loved the way he looked at her. But she didn’t want to go through heartbreak again, not like that.

  “Please,” Crissy said, so quietly that Quinn fell silent. “If you meant it, even a little bit, please don’t tell me. But don’t stay either. Because I can’t…”

  She stopped and swallowed, her lips pressed together in a thin line. Quinn released her hands and for a moment, one dread-filled moment, Crissy thought he was leaving. Until his hands were on her face, large and warm and she leaned into his touch.

  “That is not what I meant,” he repeated, each word firm and solid. “I was worried that I’d pushed you, that I’d…forced you maybe.”

  Crissy watched him, eyes wide. “You didn’t…I thought…I thought you didn’t want to have anything to do with me.”

  Quinn looked horrified. And Crissy laughed, just a little, at the release of tension.

  “I guess we both got a little jumpy with our conclusions,” she said.

  He let out a relieved breath and one hand skimmed down the side of her neck to rest on her shoulder.

  “You were so casually talking about food like it was any normal day, I didn’t know what to do with that. All I could think about was how I’d made you upset and that I had to fix it. But I never meant it to come out that way.”

  “Well I owe you an apology, too, then. I
just…ran. You never had a chance to explain yourself.”

  “I don’t blame you, honestly.” His hands fell away from her face but his gaze didn’t waver, steady and sure as he looked at her. “I know food is important to you, Crissy. It’s your job and you’re damn good at it. I get that, I do. And I don’t have a problem with it at all. I swear.”

  Crissy closed her eyes and let her hand come to rest against Quinn’s chest. The frantic thrumming beat of Quinn’s heart beneath her palm steadied her, reminded her that this wasn’t a dream, that he was here and he meant every word. Slowly, she opened her eyes and looked at him again.

  “You didn’t push me,” she said faintly. “I wanted it.”

  “You sure? Because I can get…overwhelming, sometimes. I don’t know when to back off. And I’ve been told it’s a bit suffocating and…”

  “Quinn,” Crissy said. “You didn’t push me. I’m just…shy. I don’t exactly have a whole lot of experience in that department.”

  “But your fiancé…?”

  “Was an asshole and didn’t last long, remember?”

  “Right.”

  Footsteps hurried towards the kitchen and Amy called out, “Crissy, I’ve got the place cleared out…”

  As she rounded the corner, she pulled up short. “Oh!”

  Quinn and Crissy broke apart, Crissy’s face more than a little warm and pink.

  “I’ll…not be here,” Amy said then hurried back out as fast as she’d come in.

  Quinn stood and pulled Crissy to her feet. He squeezed her hands as they stood there, inches apart.

  “I should get going,” he said. “Pete was covering for me to get away for a few minutes. That usually ends in disaster.” He paused, his gaze flickering over her face, and he lowered his voice. “Are we good?”

  Crissy smiled softly up at him. “Yes,” she said. “I think we’re good.”

  “Taking things slow.”

  “And fixing my oven?” she put in hopefully.

  Quinn smiled and brushed his thumb across her chin. “I was hoping you’d say that. I’ll pick up a few tools and come by tomorrow morning?”