Quinn knelt on the bed, pulling Crissy with him, as he thrust up into her, frantic and desperate for release now. Crissy’s head fell back as a fresh wave of orgasm shuddered through her and she knew nothing else, nothing but the slide of Quinn’s skin against hers, the bruising grip of his fingers on her body, as if he could fuse them together if he just held on tight enough.
As quickly as it came, it was over and Quinn set her back down against the bed, his forehead resting against her collarbone with a light kiss. After a moment, he collected himself, tossed the condom in the trash, and tucked Crissy in against his side, pulling the blankets up over them. He kissed her forehead and curled his fingers into her hair with a sigh.
“You okay, sweetheart?” he asked, his voice hoarse and rough with approaching sleep.
Crissy turned to look up at him and kissed the curve of his throat. “I’m more than okay,” she replied. “Your house is properly broken in, I believe.”
He hummed and buried his face in her hair, his arms tightening around her. “It’s not official until you work your magic with those turnovers.”
Crissy’s fingers wandered over the expanse of his chest, feeling his heartbeat and his breathing gradually slow and even out. She shifted to watch him sleep, brushing her fingers across his cheek.
Then it came. Surging to the forefront of her mind without a hint of doubt. It wasn’t a matter of liking Quinn anymore simply because he was polite, handsome, a good person overall and an incredible boyfriend.
She was head over heels in love with him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Crissy woke to soft kisses pressed to her bare back and she smiled, still hazy with sleep. She lay on her stomach, her face buried in Quinn’s pillows, smelling faintly of his soap and cinnamon. Quinn’s lips barely brushed against her skin, feather light and warm, as he traveled up her back, over her shoulder, and nipped at her ear.
“Morning, sweetheart,” he whispered. “I can tell you’re awake.”
She turned over to face him. He was sitting on the edge of the bed, fully dressed and ready for work. As she shifted, he leaned over her, bracing one hand on the bed, his other hand holding a cup of steaming coffee out to her. She accepted the coffee and kissed him lightly as her fingers drifted along his side, questing for that ticklish spot she’d found last night.
Quinn laughed and caught her wrist. “Oh no, no, no,” he said. “You’re not doing that again.”
Crissy raised an eyebrow and set the coffee on the bedside table. “Are you going to stop me?”
“That sounds very much like a challenge.”
“Good, because I meant it that way. Now get over here,” she said, pulling him towards her.
Quinn smiled against her mouth and flinched away when Crissy aimed for his ribs again, catching hold of both wrists this time and pinning her arms above her head.
“Now that’s more like it,” he said.
Crissy grinned and pressed her hips up, feeling the already rigid length of him straining against the front of his pants. He sucked in a hissing breath through his teeth.
“No fair,” he growled. “I really have to go to work now. Do not do this to me.”
She giggled and scraped her teeth over his bottom lip, drawing a small strangled noise for mercy from Quinn, encouraging her even more.
Somewhere in the dimly lit room, Crissy heard her phone go off. She ignored it, hooking one leg around Quinn’s waist and tugging him closer to her.
“You should get that,” he said, pushing her hip back down to the mattress again. “And I should go to work.”
He leaned in for a final kiss and just as Crissy tipped her mouth up to meet his, he pulled away with a smirk.
“Mean,” she grumbled, searching around on the floor for clothing. She found one of Quinn’s shirts sticking out of a nearby box and pulled it on. Quinn moved into the kitchen, physically distancing himself from her, as she rummaged around in her discarded clothes for her phone.
A text from Amy popped up on the screen.
“Text me if still alive.”
Crissy sent a quick, simple “yes”, and turned her phone off. It was only six thirty. She still had fifteen minutes left before she had to leave to walk back to the shop. And she knew exactly what she wanted to do in those fifteen minutes.
Crissy slipped into the kitchen where Quinn was standing at the counter, sipping the last of his coffee. She slid her hands around his waist and up his chest, resting her cheek against his back.
“Everything okay?” he asked.
She nodded. “Just Amy checking up on me.”
He turned and cupped her face in one hand, his eyebrows raised in surprise.
“Is that my shirt?” he asked.
“Yes,” she grinned. “And you’re probably never getting it back.”
He brushed his thumb over her chin. “Looks good on you.”
She rose up on tiptoe to kiss him, open-mouthed, hungry and not the least bit shy. She pulled back just far enough to rest her forehead against his.
“I’ve got fifteen minutes,” she said.
“And I’m already late.”
She tugged his shirt free of his pants and slipped her fingers under the hem until she found warm skin.
“Then you’d better make the most of it,” she replied.
***
Forty-five minutes later, Crissy finally tore herself away from Quinn and headed to the shop. Amy met her at the door, balancing four cups of coffee, two in each hand.
“You scared the hell out of me when you weren’t in your room this morning,” Amy said. “Ellie has been keeping everything under control for the most part. And I hate to be the bearer of bad news but there’s a letter from your sister on the counter in the kitchen.”
Crissy’s shoulder sagged. “No.”
Amy hummed in agreement. “I wanted to get rid of it but…I didn’t. Be proud of me.”
“Did you read it?”
Amy feigned shock. “Of course not!”
Crissy just stared at her. “Amy.”
“I didn’t, swear to God. But…”
“I knew there was a but in there somewhere.”
“It was totally obvious that it’s a wedding invitation so I didn’t need to read it.”
Crissy frowned and continued on her way to the kitchen again, her footsteps considerably less lighter with what waited for her. She had been almost completely certain that Andrea wouldn’t want her at the wedding after their last tense conversation. Maybe it was just late and Andrea had already changed her mind…
“Oh and lucky you,” Amy said. “You totally missed the child having a full blown temper tantrum in the middle of the shop this morning. Remind me why I wanted kids again?”
“Because you would never ever let them get away with that,” Crissy replied as she made her way back to the kitchen.
Amy laughed. “Who am I kidding? They’re either going to be heathens like me or perfect angels like Manu and…oh my god.”
She stopped, her gaze searching Crissy’s face. Crissy raised her eyebrows.
“What?” she asked, trying to fight the flush rising up her neck and threatening to blossom in her cheeks. Act normal, act normal, she thought.
“You’re…glowing,” Amy chirped, a grin spreading across her face. “And you weren’t here when I showed up this morning. Oh my god.”
“Stop saying oh my god like that.”
Amy’s mouth formed an O shape but Crissy squinted at her and Amy sucked her lips in. She abandoned the coffee on the counter.
“Do tell.”
“No,” Crissy said and turned away to flee to the kitchen.
“Oh, come on. Just give me a little something here, sugar.”
“Nope.”
“At least tell me that you’re happy.”
Crissy stopped in the middle of tying on her apron and turned to look at Amy. She didn’t have to say a word before Amy pressed her hands to Crissy’s face with the biggest smile Crissy ha
d ever seen.
“It’s about time,” she whispered. She hooked an arm around Crissy’s shoulders and squealed. “I can’t decide if I want to be an aunt or a godmother.”
Crissy blinked, startled. “Whoa, Amy, slow down a minute.”
“Too late!” she said, twirling out of the kitchen with a laugh. She poked her head back into the kitchen. “And you better name one of your dozen kids after me.”
“Oh my god,” Crissy whispered.
“I heard that!”
The envelope was waiting on the kitchen counter, exactly where Amy said it would be, the seal unbroken. The envelope was cream colored with looping silver text and smelled too rich, like it had been soaked in rose perfume. And the time stamp in the corner was long after their fight. So Andrea wasn’t giving up then. What was even more surprising was that her mother hadn’t banned Crissy from the wedding. Andrea must be getting such an earful…
Crissy waited for Ellie to sweep by with two fresh trays of cinnamon rolls for the display case before she retrieved her phone and went upstairs to her apartment. She took a deep breath and sat on the edge of her bed. It was only going to be a short conversation. And at the end of the day, she was going to Quinn’s house to get lost in him for a few hours.
The phone rang and rang and a small blossom of hope surged in Crissy’s chest. Maybe Andrea wouldn’t pick up. Maybe she could put it off for an hour or two more…
“Crissy,” Andrea’s ice cold tone floated through the phone. “It’s decent of you to call. I’ve tried contacting your cell phone before but it seems your number isn’t working or something now. You should really get that fixed.”
“I’ll be sure to do that,” Crissy replied, skirting that topic as fast as possible. “I received your wedding invitation today by the way. It’s lovely. You did an excellent job.”
“I had to do it all by myself. Mother is beside herself and Kenneth is busy with work.”
Crissy bit back an apology, a knee-jerk reaction. She had nothing to apologize for. “It’s a shame you had to go through that,” she said instead.
“Yes, well, you’ll have to respond as soon as possible. I’ll need an exact count of who will be attending. You are coming, aren’t you? You’re my sister and this is my wedding.”
Crissy paused. Andrea was asking. It still had that biting edge of command to her words but Andrea never asked. She assumed, she took, she made plans and everyone was expected to follow them through. Crissy stifled a groan and closed her eyes. She could hear Amy’s voice echoing in her head.
I don’t insist on wearing those goddamn rose-colored glasses you insist on wearing all the time.
But how could she take them off and leave them off? She wanted to be happy with her sister. A small part of her was beginning to accept that wasn’t possible. But another part of her…another very small part of her that was fading, still wanted to make things work.
“I’ll be there,” Crissy said.
“Good,” Andrea replied, snap quick and sharp. “Now, I put details in the invitation but just as a reminder, you’ll have to be here at least three days before the…”
“On one condition,” Crissy cut in.
“Excuse me?”
“I’ll be there on one condition.”
Andrea spluttered. “Are you bargaining with me? About my own wedding?”
And there was the old Andrea she knew so well. It looked like things weren’t going to change after all. Crissy stuffed away that very small part of her, pleading and cajoling that if she just worked harder things would be better.
“Yes I am. If you want me there, your only sister, you have to agree to this one thing.”
Andrea growled. “Fine. What is it?”
“You won’t invite my ex to the wedding. And neither will Mom.”
“You can’t…you…I can invite whoever I want! You can’t tell me who to invite and not invite!”
“Then I hope you enjoy your wedding with the people you’ve invited but I won’t be there.”
“Wait, wait, wait. Why won’t you just give him a…?”
“No,” Crissy cut in. “It’s been years, Andrea. Stop talking about him. We’re not getting back together. If he’s there, if you try to guilt me about taking him back, if you say one word to Quinn, I will walk right out.”
Andrea snorted. “You used to be nice, you know that? You used to be sweet and gentle and so cooperative. Now you’re…bossy and demanding.”
Crissy sighed. “Are you going to agree or not?”
“Fine. I promise. But I’m not happy about it.”
“I didn’t ask you to be. And thank you.”
Andrea made a small disgruntled noise and hung up. Crissy tossed her phone onto the bedside table and flopped back on her bed. A beat of silence passed before Amy climbed the stairs and dropped onto the bed next to her, making the bed bounce slightly.
“Hey, why the long face?”
“I didn’t get out of the wedding after all.”
“Crap,” Amy groaned.
“But I made a bargain with my sister.”
“You…what? I didn’t think that was possible.”
“Yeah, I wasn’t sure I could pull it off either but she promised to not invite him.”
“Him as in…”
“Him.”
Amy said nothing. Complete and utter roaring silence. Crissy turned her head to look up at her.
“What?”
Amy shook her head. “You know I don’t trust your family. Like at all. When we were growing up, I lost count of how many gallons of ice-cream we ate together because your family was mean to you. I don’t understand why they can’t just…get over it. Whatever their problem is.”
Crissy rolled over on her stomach and wedged her elbows underneath her. “I don’t know either but I have you, I have Quinn, and I’m happy here. Safe. Living my own life.”
The worry in Amy’s eyes eased a little and she tucked a strand of hair behind Crissy’s ear.
“Still no chance you’ll give me any dirty details about last night?”
Crissy let out a dramatic groan. “None at all.” As she sat up, she pointed to a wet stain on Amy’s shirt. “Do I want to know?”
“Puke,” Amy chirped. “That’s why I came up here. Could I borrow one of your shirts?”
“Like you even have to ask,” Crissy said. She pushed off the bed and dug around in her closet for a moment. She pushed a few t-shirts aside and her gaze fell on a box, shoved to the back of the closet.
Crissy went still. The lingerie Amy had bought for her. She completely forgot about it, only partly by accident. As soon as it had arrived, she didn’t have the guts to even try it on, let alone wear if for more than two seconds. So she’d stuffed it into the depths of her closet, hoping to never see it again. Amy had bugged her about it for a while then gave up when Crissy refused to answer anything besides “no.”
Crissy shook her head and grabbed the first t-shirt that she could find, a worn out purple one with a stack of pale white macaroons on the front. She tossed it at Amy and it landed on her head.
Amy tugged her soiled shirt off and pulled the fresh shirt on. “You’re a lifesaver, sugar,” she said. She washed her shirt in the sink and hung it up in the bathroom to dry, talking about everything and nothing at the same time. Crissy sat on the edge of her bed, staring at a spot on the floor just to the left of that box.
Finally, Amy disappeared down the stairs and Crissy closed the door after her. She pulled the box out and opened it up. An alarmingly small amount of lacy pastel blue fabric sat nestled inside. She held it up to herself, her fingers toying with the hem of the top.
Maybe…maybe she could surprise Quinn tonight…
***
Crissy forced herself to think about food and not the temptation that was Quinn as the breakfast rush faded. She was vaguely aware of Ellie watching her from the kitchen doorway as she carefully piped icing onto a boundless number of petit fours spread out across the counter.
Without looking up or hesitating in her work, Crissy spoke.
“I’m sure there are dishes to be cleaned somewhere,” she said.
“All done,” Ellie said. “Am I…bothering you?”
“I don’t mind if you have all your work done,” Crissy said, just barely pausing long enough to glance up at Ellie with a reassuring smile.
Ellie smiled back. Encouraged now, she took a step further into the kitchen.
“Could I ask you a baking question?”
“Of course. But I should probably warn you that once I start talking food, you’ll have a hard time stopping me.”
Ellie’s smile grew even bigger and she inched towards the counter. “How do you get your croissants fluffy? Mine always turn out a bit too dense and stiff.”
“Well, since we’re talking croissants, when in doubt, the answer is usually to add more butter.”
She paused and wiped a stray curl of icing off of a pale pink petit four.
“Why did you start baking?” Ellie asked, propping her elbow on the counter and resting her chin on her fist to watch Crissy work.
Crissy shrugged and set aside her icing bag. “I loved the complexity of it. I loved the comfort that food brings, in making it and smelling it and eating it. I loved…the way it all fits together, like puzzle pieces.”
Ellie’s eyes brightened and she nodded. “Like art you can taste and smell too.”
Crissy smiled. “Exactly.”
She picked up a lime green petit four with a tiny piped purple flower on top and handed it to Ellie.
“I almost don’t want to eat it,” she said, the petit four nestled in her palm.
Crissy pulled another tray from the refrigerator and handed the icing bag to Ellie.
“Then you’d better get to work,” she said.
Ellie’s eyes widened. “Really?”
Crissy nodded. Ellie accepted the icing bag and started piping designs across the petit fours. Crissy watched as Ellie worked with precision and a steady hand, confidently and quietly, sure in the knowledge of what she was doing and the final product she wanted to create.
Sugar And Spice (Holidays: Valentine) Page 21
