Second Chance at the Sugar Shack

by Candis Terry

  She wrapped his sandwich, added chips, and tossed in a few brownies. Then she slid the order across the counter. “Deputy?” She slid her hand over the top of his when he reached for the bag. “I wonder if you wouldn’t mind helping me in the stock room.” She batted her eyelashes to sufficiently put Scarlet O’Hara to shame. “I need some sugar and it’s just too much for little old me to reach alone.” Ah, God, she loved the fun and games that came with a comfortable relationship.

  His blue eyes brightened. “Why certainly, ma’am.” He tipped two fingers to the brim of his Stetson. “I’d be happy to help.”

  He followed her to the stock room and with every step, excitement fluttered from Kate’s heart to the tips of her breasts and way, way lower. She could not get enough of this man.

  The moment they were both inside the storage room he kicked the door shut and pressed her against the wall. He leaned in, his clean-shaven face brushed against her cheek. His clean, sexy male scent wrapped around her like the best of birthday presents.

  “Where do I find the sugar, Kate?” he whispered against her mouth. “Is it here?” He kissed her forehead. “Or here?” His lips brushed the tip of her nose. “Or maybe . . . it’s right here.

  Bull’s-eye.

  His mouth covered hers and he kissed her in a deliberate, tender, and incredibly intense way that made her knees go weak and her heart pound. His lips were warm and soft as his tongue coaxed, caressed, and promised a heaven Kate knew he could deliver.

  She moaned, threw her arms around his neck and his soft feeding kisses turned to unrestrained hunger. His hand shot up beneath her white apron and cupped her breast through her sweater. His palm molded against her and the hot caress sent zaps of electricity down into her jeans. When she thought she could take no more until she got her hands on his warm skin, he slid his big hands down to her bottom and lifted. She gave up all hope of decorum and wrapped her legs around him.

  He leaned his big body into hers and she pressed herself against the swollen crest of his erection. His satisfaction groaned deep in his chest. With both of his hands on her butt, holding her tight against his very proper uniform khakis, he murmured, “Too bad you’re wearing jeans. Or I could slide your panties down your legs and have my way with you right now.”

  “I can take them off fast.” She panted like she’d run a mile at the high school track. “I swear.” He responded by sliding his hot mouth down the sensitive curve of her neck and gently sucking. Desperate to feel him deep inside her, she reached for her zipper.

  The radio transmitter attached to his shoulder squawked and crackled. Then dispatch called out a series of numbers and Matt pulled back.

  Wham! Reality intruded and left them both gasping for air.

  “That’s for me,” he said.

  When her senses floated back to earth, Kate giggled. “Busted.”

  Matt leaned his forehead against hers, pressed his erection into her one last time and groaned a sad sound. “Not the first time that’s happened.”

  “Sad but true.” Reluctantly she unwound her legs and he lowered her feet to the floor. She dropped her head back against the wall and breathed deep to steady her heart.

  He leaned in and kissed her again. “If you promise to be a good girl, we can finish what we started after we get off work.”

  She wound her arms around his neck and gave him a kiss she hoped would make him think of good things to come. “It’s a date.”

  After a few moments of readjusting, rearranging, and getting it together, Matt followed her to the front of the shop. Before he walked around the counter, she grabbed his lunch bag and tossed it to him. “You might want to use that to cover up so you don’t give any little old ladies strolling down the street a heart attack.”

  He didn’t bother looking down. He just gave her a private smile, grabbed his iced tea, and headed toward the door.

  “Thanks for your help, Deputy Ryan.”

  He turned and lifted a dark brow. “Gotta go, beautiful.”

  Through the front window she watched him open the door to his patrol car and slip inside. A nice little hum vibrated through her body when she thought of the naughty promises he’d just made for after they both got off work. When she went home to him. She sighed.

  She was falling in love with him.

  She could feel it in every breath she took. Like she was falling from a cloud, spinning and twirling through the air with nothing to catch her but those big strong arms that had held her last night while she slept.

  With only a day left to wrap up the finishing touches on her bakery remodel she scooted off to the storage room. From the pocket of her apron her cell phone chimed. She glanced at the caller ID, then hit answer. “Hey Josh.”

  “OMG!” Josh’s panic wailed through the phone. “You have to be in London next week!”

  “What? Why?”

  “Our favorite wreck of a songbird just landed a role in the new Peter Jackson film. They’re doing a promo shoot and Peggy, agent tormentor of the century, insists you be there.”

  “What happened to Inara flying away to temporary lockdown?”

  “It’s off. Apparently a ten million dollar price tag tops lack of decorum. Besides, who says no to an Oscar-winning director?”

  “Not anyone with common sense.”

  “Correct. Look, I can book you on a flight out of Deer Spit tomorrow morning to L.A. You can catch a connecting flight from there.”

  “I can’t just go running off, Josh. My dad needs me.” And I’m in the middle of remodeling the bakery and I have the bakery grand reopening plus the grand opening of Cindi’s Attic and . . . a beautiful man to go home to.

  An exaggerated sigh whooshed through the phone. “Sweetie, exactly how long is your dad going to need you?”

  “You can’t put a time frame on something like that and you know it.”

  “Fine.” His snippy bitch side surfaced with a vengeance. “I didn’t want to have to tell you this but you leave me no choice.”

  “Cut the drama and just say it.”

  “You have to come back. Peggy wasn’t happy when I told her you wouldn’t come back to play Miss Manners to her number one catastrophe of a client. But she said she’d let it slide. Once. When I spoke to her not ten minutes ago, she told me you already used your get-out-of-jail-free card. She reminded me in a way only Peggy can, that you signed a contract to be Inara’s stylist. And this time, she’s going to hold you to it.”

  All the happiness that had been in Kate’s heart before the phone rang shriveled like a grape in the sun. Emotion tangled in her stomach and tightened in her throat. “Or?”

  “She’ll sue.”

  “Shit.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Josh, you’ve been my assistant for three years. You’ve been with me from the beginning. You deserve to take the lead. I completely trust you to make all the right decisions.”

  “I appreciate your confidence, Kate, but I already tried that angle. And even though you and I both know I am unbelievably fabulous Peggy wouldn’t buy it. Her exact words were ‘Kate signed the contract. Kate is the business. Kate better have her skinny ass in London next week or I will sue her for every pathetic rhinestone she’s ever earned.’ ”

  “Wow.” Kate flinched at the tone and delivery of Peggy’s message. “You remembered all that? Word for word?”

  “I am nothing if not efficient.”

  While Josh related the rest of the not-so-nice things Peggy had proclaimed or threatened, Kate paced the length of the back room. When the admonitions ended, she stopped and dropped her forehead to the office door with a thunk. “I’m up shit creek, aren’t I?”

  “Without the proverbial paddle.”

  There were times in his life Matt could clearly identify as a moment. Lying in bed with Kate wrapped in his arms after making love ranked top on his list. With her head resting on his shoulder, he caressed the soft silky strands of her hair. She smelled like sugar cookies and sex and promises. And as so
on as he regained his strength, he planned to love her some more.

  For ten years he’d learned to live without her. He didn’t think he could manage that again. When she left his bed in the mornings, he missed her. When he left the Shack after he picked up his lunch, he missed her. Hell, when she went downstairs for a glass of water, he missed her. They’d found a peace, a rhythm to being with each other. And hopefully, with enough time, they could make it permanent.

  She shifted in his arms and looked up at him. “Matt?”

  The way she spoke his name gave his heart an uncomfortable squeeze. “Yeah?”

  “Something came up today after you left the Shack.” She propped herself up on an elbow.

  “What’s that?” He repositioned the pillow beneath his head to see her better.

  “I got a call from Josh.”

  “The non-boyfriend gay assistant Josh?”

  She nodded but didn’t laugh.

  “I . . . have to leave next week,” she said.

  Everything inside him turned ice cold. “Leave?”

  “I have to go to London.”

  And the fantasy ends . . . three, two, one . . . now. “Why?”

  “One of my top clients just signed a ten million dollar deal and I have to be at a promo shoot.”

  “Your assistant can’t go?”

  “It’s complicated.”

  “What’s complicated? I thought he’s been taking care of things for you.”

  “He can’t this time.”

  “He can’t or won’t?”

  She shook her head. “He’d love to, believe me.”

  “Then why doesn’t he?”

  “My client won’t allow it.”

  There were so many things wrong with that statement he didn’t even know where to begin. He sat up. “What do you mean they won’t allow it?”

  “I have a contract and she’s threatening to sue if I’m not there.”

  “So basically this person can control your life?”

  The lips he’d been kissing just a few minutes ago tightened as she too sat up. “I hadn’t thought of it like that but I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

  “How many other people have you signed control over your life to?”

  She shrugged one bare shoulder. “A few.”

  “A few meaning?”

  “Maybe three or four.”

  “So three or four people can basically tell you what to do, where to be, and how you can live your life because they need you to dress them? They can tell you to walk away from your dad when he needs you?” Or me when I need you?

  “I . . . um . . .”

  “Are these the so-called clients who pay you to be their friend?”

  “Matt, you don’t understand.” Her brows slammed together. “This isn’t just all about me. I’m a business owner. I have an employee and clients to consider.”

  He inhaled a calming breath and nodded. “How long will you be gone?”

  “I’m not sure. After I leave London I’ll probably go back to L.A. and finish up some projects.”

  “So you’re leaving next week and you don’t know when or if you’ll be back?”

  “I’ll . . . be back—”

  “You don’t sound very confident about that.” How had this conversation just turned into a nuclear meltdown? “Exactly how long are these clients going to rule your life, Kate?”

  “I don’t have exact dates.”

  “But until your contracts are up you’re at their beck and call.”

  “You make it sound so horrible.”

  Maybe it wasn’t for her, but for him? Yeah. It sucked. They both sat there, silent for several breaths while he tried to still his aching heart.

  “Come with me,” she finally said.

  “What?”

  “Don’t yell. It was just an idea.”

  “I’m not yelling and it’s a shitty idea.”

  “Why?”

  He got out of bed, grabbed his jeans from the floor and shoved his legs through. “Why?”

  She drew the sheet up to cover herself. “I already said that.”

  He couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling or the dagger of pain that stabbed him in the brain. She didn’t get it. At all. Damn it. He should have known this would happen. “Because I’m running for sheriff,” he said, stating the obvious. “I have signs posted all over town. Perhaps you’ve seen them.”

  Her chin lifted. “Of course I’ve seen them. It doesn’t have to be—”

  “Kate?” He planted his hands on his hips. “I don’t want to just blend in like the people in L.A. I want to make a difference. I can’t go running off. My life is here. I’m a part of something that means a lot to me and in just a few days I plan to stand up in front of the entire community and convince them why they should elect me to protect them, their children, and their homes. How would it look if I just took off on a whim?”

  “I understand.” She scooted off the bed, taking the comforter with her. “But you don’t have to get so mad. It was just a suggestion.”

  He wrapped his fingers around her wrist to keep her from escaping. “Why would you even ask me to go?”

  “I think you know why.” She tugged her arm.

  He tugged back. “Humor me.”

  She looked at the ceiling, the door, anywhere but at him. “Because I might . . . have feelings for you.”

  “You might? Or you do?”

  “Is there a difference?”

  “The fact that you even have to ask pretty much tells me everything I need to know.”

  “It’s not like I’ll be gone forever.” Her palm slid down his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Bad timing, huh?”

  “I don’t suppose I could interest you in a long-distance relationship?” she said, obviously trying to lighten the mood. “Maybe a little phone sex? I could even fake a British accent.”

  “Would you be happy with that?” he asked, knowing the truth even though he’d tried to erase it in the past few days. I’m still not enough.

  “No.” She turned away and slipped from his arms. “I hope you can try to understand how important this is to me.”

  “Then it’s important for you to go.” Aching to touch her again he reached for her, then thought better and dropped his hand to his side.

  She bit at her bottom lip. “Matt, I—”

  “I wish you well, Kate. I really do. And I hope you find what you’re looking for.” But he had to be honest with himself and admit that what she was looking for wasn’t him.

  Everything inside him urged him to go to her, take her in his arms and things would work out just fine. But that was a lie and he knew it. What he wanted and what she wanted were on such different ends of the spectrum they’d never be able to meet in the middle.

  An ache deep in his chest made it hard to breathe as he watched her pick her clothes up off the floor and put them on. She slipped her arms through the sleeves of her coat and clutched it together near her heart.

  She looked up at him. “I don’t want to say good-bye.”

  A heavy sigh pushed from his lungs. “Easier now than later.”

  She searched his face, then nodded as tears slipped from her eyes. Then she cupped his cheek in her hand and rose up onto her toes and kissed him. He kept his arms at his sides and curled his fingers into his palms to keep from grabbing her and begging her not to go.

  The kiss ended way too soon and she stepped away. “Good-bye, Matt.”

  She whispered his name on a sob and his heart shattered into a million pieces. He forced himself to stand there and watch the woman he loved walk out the door. When he heard her footsteps on his porch, he forced himself to walk out onto the balcony and watch her drive out of his life. He forced himself to feel the pain. And when all that was left were her tire tracks in the snow, he forced himself to go back inside—to face life a lot less hopeful than just a few hours ago.

  The bottle of Jack in his kitchen cabinet called his name, promising a comforta
ble numb to take away the pain in his heart. The emptiness in his arms. A chill ran up his bare back and he opened his dresser to grab a T-shirt. From the back corner of the drawer a small white box peeked out from behind a layer of cotton shirts. He picked it up, flipped open the cover, and looked at the ring nestled in black velvet that had been hidden for a decade. He removed the ring and held it up to the light.

  Easier to say good-bye now than later?

  Who the fuck had he been kidding?

  Kate felt like she’d been kicked in the chest by a team of stubborn mules. She grabbed a tissue from the box between the seats of the Buick and blew her nose. Everything that had just happened was all her fault and she had no one, absolutely no one, to blame but herself. She’d fallen totally and completely in love with Matt. And yet she’d just watched every ounce of their newly formed trust fade from his eyes like the last rays of sunlight fading into night. His walls had come up and he’d shut down.

  A sob burst from her throat. How had she let that happen? There had always been the very real possibility that she’d have to leave. She’d wanted the life she’d made for herself in Hollywood. She’d gone hungry for it. She’d busted her ass for it. And now it just all seemed so inconsequential.

  “Honey, please slow down or you’ll spin out.”

  With no warning, Letty Silverthorne took up her place as Kate’s backseat driver. Snow had fallen all day and the plows hadn’t yet reached the side streets. Deep drifts grabbed at the Buick’s tires making the car go a little squirrelly around the corners. Kate looked down at the speedometer.

  “I’m crawling, Mother,” she said on a hiccup. “Fifteen miles an hour is hardly NASCAR speed.”

  “Are you okay?”

  Kate tightened her hands on the steering wheel and pushed a breath from her lungs if only to control the tears that had been a constant waterfall since she left Matt’s house.

  “Come on. Tell Mommy dearest what’s wrong.”

  Kate hit the brakes. The Buick slid at least twenty feet and almost took out Mrs. Gooding’s cat. Kate didn’t watch to see if the calico made it to the other side of the street. She whipped around in her seat and faced her mother.