Titles by Seressia Glass
SPICE
SUGAR
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This book is an original publication of Penguin Random House LLC.
Copyright © 2015 by Seressia Glass.
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eBook ISBN: 978-0-698-16193-1
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Glass, Seressia.
Sugar / Seressia Glass. — Berkley trade paperback edition.
p. cm. — (A sugar and spice novel ; 2)
ISBN 978-0-425-27520-7 (paperback)
1. Erotic fiction. 2. Love stories. I. Title.
PS3557.L345S84 2015
813'.54—dc23
2015016679
PUBLISHING HISTORY
Heat trade paperback edition / November 2015
Cover photo by hotdamnstock.com.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
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CONTENTS
Titles by Seressia Glass
Title Page
Copyright
Dedication
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
CHAPTER THIRTY
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
About the Author
To “The Guy,” my guitar hero, who inspires me more than he’ll ever know
ONE
Charlie O’Halloran had a plan, and today was the day to set it in motion.
The plan? Get Siobhan Malloy to notice more than his sandwich order.
He hadn’t stopped thinking about her since the day he’d delivered a floral order to the café instead of one of his injured couriers. The order was for her business partner, thank goodness. He’d been struck dumb by the blonde goddess in the “Everything Nice” T-shirt from the moment he’d seen her. Realizing that the café she co-owned wasn’t that far from his office just off the downtown square, he’d begun doing something he hadn’t done in nearly three years: take lunch out of the office.
He didn’t visit the café every day because, stalker much? However, there was nothing wrong with stopping in once or twice a week to sample the day’s specials, get the lay of the land, and covertly ogle the woman he very much wanted to get to know better.
Not that Siobhan noticed. She had never said anything beyond the standard customer–server interactions, but he hadn’t minded since she treated everyone the same—friendly to customers, warm to coworkers. She didn’t flirt, didn’t encourage attention from men or women. No rings, though that could have been because of her job. Still, the lack of a visit by a significant other piqued his interest. It made him wonder if she had someone in her life, and whether the answer was by choice. Made him wonder if her choices and reasons were anything close to his.
He would have abandoned his reconnaissance mission altogether if not for her coworkers, the baker, Nadia, and the cashier, Rosie. He’d thought he’d been subtle, but obviously not subtle enough. Nadia had boxed up a catering order for him one morning—it had been market research, not stalking—then smiled, told him Siobhan’s full name, and informed him that Siobhan handled their lunch business and had an excellent soup-and-sandwich combo that would be good for a group lunch.
The very next week he’d ordered the suggested catered lunch and as Siobhan packed it and Rosie rang it up, Rosie had quietly mentioned that Siobhan was single. With that information, de facto blessing, and meal in hand, he’d beaten a strategic retreat. Strategic because he’d done his homework. The Sugar and Spice Café had been in business for just under four years and had mostly positive reviews on the various social sites from both business and college customers. There was a gaping hole in its business model, one that he could help with. At the very least it would garner him face time with the lovely Siobhan. At the most, he’d get the girl and the business.
No other outcome was allowed. Charlie would use his brains and his charm to get what he wanted. Neither had failed him before. He had no intention of failing now. Not when it came to the gorgeous woman who’d made it impossible for him to even think about anyone else.
Yes, blonde-haired and blue-eyed described her, but that was like describing the ocean as water. She was pinup model beautiful, complete with the look that said she could be on a retro calendar winking at him while astride some missile or painted on the tail of some World War II bomber. Her hair gleamed like woven gold with sun-streaked strands of platinum. Her eyes changed depending on what she wore, transitioning from the bluest blue of a perfect summer sky to the dusky deep blue of evening, a color change so startling it made him wonder if she sometimes wore contacts. If so, they worked for her. She was doll perfect, if you like dolls with an hourglass figure of full breasts and hips he ached to hold on to.
He pushed back from his desk, then glanced ruefully down at his lap. Yeah, Junior usually piped up whenever he thought about Siobhan, which seemed to be continuously. It was his own damned fault for being too wrapped up in work to take time for anything else, especially a woman. Most especially a woman who would expect to take priority in his life.
He couldn’t meet that expectation and rather than lead anyone on, he’d decided to abandon dating altogether. Even when he found someone just as career-focused as he was, there were other factors that usually made his relationships come to an end sooner rather than later. One-night stands and quick hookups had fulfilled the need for a while, but even those became monotonous. It was just easier to go without.
Yet something told him that Siobhan was different, could be different. She took her career as a business owner just as seriously as he did. Yet she also took time for her friends. She was driven, but not blindly so. Her capacity to care was evident and hinted at her ability to be compassionate and understanding. All of that, and independent enough to not need to be with him every moment of every day. And with curves that went on for days, she had a body built for sex and a life designed for commitment-free intimacy. She was perfect for him.
He just had to convince her of that.
* * *
Jealousy was a bitch, and the bitch had claws.
Siobhan tried to choke it down as Nadia whistled while she kneaded dough. After everyth
ing Nadia had been through in the last few years, she deserved her happiness with her sexy professor, Kane Sullivan. They’d been back together for two months now, and Siobhan knew her partner spent as much time at Sullivan’s beachfront condo as she did the townhouse above their café.
It wasn’t even the love that suffused Nadia’s face that caused the bright gouge of envy. Okay, it was that too. But the fact that Nadia was obviously and repeatedly reaching the Big O courtesy of someone else was enough to turn Siobhan’s blue eyes green.
She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d gotten laid. It had been before she and Nadia had set up the café in Crimson Bay, that much was certain. That was four years ago. Before that, they’d both spent time in a drug rehabilitation facility in Los Angeles and trying to figure out their next steps. No sex while in treatment. Prior to attending court-mandated rehab, what had she done?
Gone on a downward spiral that had culminated with her breaking her husband’s heart, alienating her daughter, and making sure no one in her family would ever speak to her again.
Siobhan blew out a breath. Yeah, she was pretty sure her vagina had spontaneously re-virginized. After more than a five-year drought, your body forgot certain things. The weight of another body sliding against it. The feel of someone else’s fingers thrilling, teasing. The heat of a hot mouth sliding over her breasts, her clit.
Okay, she hadn’t forgotten. Memory and fantasy kept her pretty busy most nights. If she needed a thrill, she had plenty of opportunity when she performed with her burlesque troupe once a month. She liked letting the music transport her, liked moving into that other mindset that allowed her inner sex kitten free rein. Too bad there weren’t any decent prospects in the bevy of admirers that hung around after the shows.
“What’s wrong?”
Siobhan blinked, bringing the kitchen back into focus. Nadia had moved from kneading dough to shaping it into loaves. “Nothing’s wrong. How’s that new organic flour working out?”
“Pretty good. The flour takes the powdered matcha well, and people are raving about the green tea cakes. I think we should make the mill our regular supplier.”
“Good to know. Their sourdough is pretty good too. We’ve gotten a lot of compliments on the Crimson Bay-L-Ts.”
Nadia wiped her hands clean on the towel she’d thrown over one shoulder. “You’re not going to distract me with business talk, Sugar,” she said. “That’s the second time you sighed in as many minutes. Talk to me.”
“There’s nothing to talk about.”
Nadia trained her dark gaze over Siobhan’s features, and she did her best to appear blithely unconcerned. Nadia knew her too well though. “That’s the problem, isn’t it? Nothing’s happening, when something should be. Between the two of us, you’ve had more chances to get laid than I did. You should take a couple of those guys at your shows up on their offers.”
“The guys who hang around after my burlesque shows are either creepers or frat boys,” Siobhan retorted. “Neither of which are high on my list of prospects. I may be dateless, but I’m not desperate.” Not yet.
“So does that mean that you do have a prospect list?” Nadia brightened. “I thought I’d have to get you and the other girls to draw straws at the next Bitch Talk session. Not that I want Audie to even think about the opposite sex right now.” She shuddered.
Ah, a change of subject. “How is Audie doing, by the way?”
“Holding her own. The assistant district attorney told her that they’ve set an arraignment date for her assault case. I told her I’d go with her.”
“We’ll all go.” Outwardly, Audie appeared to have recovered from her assault, but Siobhan knew something like that could scar a person and those scars could bury themselves deep. Audie had almost irrevocably burned her friendship bridges in the aftermath, but she’d worked with a crisis counselor to come through more or less better than she’d been before. “We’ll support her.”
“She knows that. And I support you, which is why I’m not going to let you keep changing the subject.”
“I’m not changing the subject,” she protested, and even she heard how weak of a protest it was. “There’s no subject to change.”
“Whose fault is that?” Nadia settled her hands on her hips. “You’re miserable, Sugar. And your misery is self-inflicted. Come join me on the dark side. You know we have excellent cookies.”
Rosie stuck her head through the swing door. “There’s a hot guy out here asking for the owner.”
“Your turn,” Nadia said, turning Siobhan toward the door. “I know for a fact that my hot guy is still at work. If you’ll take care of our mysterious hot guy, I can finish up these loaves.”
Siobhan pushed through the swing door then stopped short, barely catching the door in time. Double-espresso shot, Crimson Bay-L-T was back. The first time she’d seen him was when he’d delivered flowers for Nadia four months ago, and the way his long muscular legs had filled those navy blue bike shorts was seared on her mind’s eye—and had starred in a couple of late-night fantasies. He’d returned numerous times since then, though regrettably not in biking gear. This time he wore dark khakis with a pale green oxford bearing his company logo instead of the aerodynamic bike shorts and T-shirt, and he carried a leather satchel instead of a fanny pack. She tried not to feel disappointed that she didn’t get the pleasure of ogling his muscles. He was still heart-poundingly gorgeous and nice to look at though, one of those guys who could look good in anything, thanks to the chiseled jaw, expressive blue-green eyes, and the artfully tousled honey-blond hair.
Though the business-casual attire hid it, she remembered all too well how his lean and fit body had filled his shorts and shirt. He looked to be a man who enjoyed activity, all sorts of activities, intimate and public. And young enough that those activities probably involved jet skis and kegs and strippers.
Siobhan smoothed her apron, then stepped around the counter, unaccountably glad that she’d forgone the standard work attire of Sugar and Spice T-shirt and jeans for the fifties-style pink, teal, and white apron she’d created that complemented her retro pink pedal pushers, teal button-down over a white camisole, and teal sneakers.
For a moment he stared at her blankly, as if frozen. Then he smiled, and damn, that mouth. His mouth promised all sorts of wicked delights. It was a mouth that said it knew how to kiss and do all sorts of other things to please a woman. It said this guy and I, we know what we’re doing when it comes to sex and we know how to deliver on everything we promise.
Good Lord. Siobhan blinked, attempting to gather her composure. It had been too long since she’d had sex with someone besides herself. Her immunity to the opposite sex was woefully out of date.
Maybe it was the talk she’d just had with Nadia. Maybe it was her own internal monologue for the last couple of months. Or maybe, just maybe, the man standing before her with the smile full of promise was the cure for what ailed her.
“Hello. Siobhan Malloy, Sugar and Spice Café. What can I do for you today?”
TWO
“Hello,” he said, sticking out his hand as Siobhan approached. “I’m Charlie O’Halloran with Crimson Bay Couriers. And the questions is, what can I—or rather, what can my company—do for you today?”
“What is it that you thi . . .” Her voice faded as his hand engulfed hers, her breath stolen by the warmth that snaked up her arm and went straight to her chest. Was this what a heart attack felt like? The tingling, the shortness of breath, the painfully hard nipples? Okay, maybe not the nipple part, but everything else.
“Do you have a few minutes, Ms. Malloy?” O’Halloran gave her that smile again. He had to know it was a weapon of mass seduction. Even she, with her scarred-over heart and dormant libido, wasn’t immune to its charm.
She glanced around the café. He’d timed his visit well; their regulars knew what time they closed up shop, and the few stragglers who did come in were choosing to-go orders from whatever was left.
“Of course,
Mr. O’Halloran,” she said, gesturing to the out-of-the-way table they used for their Tuesday talks. “And please call me Siobhan. We don’t stand on formality around here.”
“Siobhan. What a beautiful name.” He pulled out her chair for her, then took the seat opposite. “Please call me Charlie.”
“Charlie.” At least he didn’t give her the tired line about beautiful names for beautiful women. Point to him. Then again, he probably didn’t have to use pickup lines. All he had to do was lean forward, stare into a woman’s eyes as if she were the most important thing in the universe, and give that smile that promised to let her in on the secret.
Siobhan wasn’t about to let him add her to his string of conquests. She wasn’t some college coed or innocent. She’d seen too much, done much more, and pulled herself through to the other side. His charms wouldn’t work on her, as powerful as they were. In fact, maybe it was time to show him that an experienced woman had a charm of her own.
She smiled at him, knowing her cheeky grin revealed a pretty potent set of dimples. “What can I do for you, Charlie?”
His smile dimmed slightly, no less potent. “I’d like to discuss a proposition with you. A business proposition.”
Figures. Courier boy was a salesman, and a slick one at that. She smothered the minute disappointment that he wanted her business instead of her and tilted her head at him. “Are you interested in my sweet treats, Charlie?”
He blinked for a moment, then caught himself. “Actually, yes. You’re surrounded by several businesses and government offices, and I’m sure you get a majority of your business from them, with spikes in sales from students around exam time.”
So he wasn’t stupid. Neither was she. “Go on.”
“I noticed that you offer light catering services with twenty-four hours’ advance notice,” Charlie continued, withdrawing one of Sugar and Spice’s brochures from his portfolio. “But your catering is pickup only. I believe there’s a missed opportunity there, and that’s where Crimson Bay Couriers can help.”
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