Sweeter Than Sunshine (Sweeter in the City Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  “I think that is a wonderful idea,” Mary said, her voice a little thick.

  “I won’t keep it,” Lila said quickly. “It can be ours, to share. If you want it someday.”

  Mary pulled back in her chair, covering her emotions with a giant roll of her eyes. “Given my luck with men, I can’t really think that far ahead.”

  “Well, you never know. Look at me and Sam.” Lila gave a sly grin and Mary just shook her head as Sam came into the room to join them. Mary looked at the table, at the beautiful dinner her sister and her fiancé had made, and knew that it was probably in her honor. She felt touched, and guilty as hell.

  Her sister had always looked out for her growing up, showing strength and courage after their parents had died, and all these years later she was still doing it, taking on a role she didn’t need to fill but wanted to. Mary wished for once she could do the same.

  And she could. By keeping Sunshine Creamery afloat. And by not worrying Lila with the tricky details like lack of customers and the threat of the building falling apart on her, piece by piece.

  They ate their dinner, chatting about wedding plans and Lila and Sam’s advertising agency. Mary tried to keep the conversation on them, but they were too polite. Too vested.

  Too caring, she thought sadly.

  “How’s the shop?”

  Even though Mary knew her sister was just showing interest in her life, she felt her defenses prickle. “Good,” she said, taking a sip from her wine, hoping the chill would drive the heat from her face. “I hosted a birthday party yesterday,” she offered, happy to have something worthwhile to report. “One of my neighbors has a six-year-old,” she said. “Everything was purple.”

  Lila stabbed a piece of broccoli with her fork. “Which neighbor?”

  “Oh . . .” She tried to keep her tone casual, but she struggled to make eye contact. “The one across the hall,” Mary said, setting down her wine glass.

  Lila frowned. “The unfriendly one?”

  Mary bristled and reached for her fork. “Oh, now . . . I wouldn’t say he’s all that unfriendly.”

  Lila scoffed and stared at Mary until she had her full, if not reluctant, attention. “Mary, he yanked down one of the signs you put in the lobby.”

  Mary considered this. Indeed, he had done that, and she had been quite peeved at the time. “Well, in fairness, he might have been following my suggestion a little too closely,” she said, recalling the cheery letter she’d hung up about keeping the junk mail in the recycling bin and not littered around the floor near the old radiator.

  “He has barely grunted a hello at you in months. Unless he treats you differently when I’m not around.” Lila raised an eyebrow, and Mary shifted her eyes, feeling suddenly like she was on trial. “It’s too bad. He’s sort of cute, if you like the silent and broody type,” Lila said, resuming her dinner. “But he’s not very nice.”

  Mary chewed on her lip. So she hadn’t just imagined it. He was cute. Damn cute.

  Not that it mattered.

  “I don’t think it’s that he isn’t nice,” she said pensively. “I think it’s that he’s . . . troubled.”

  Sam let out a whoop of laughter, and Lila nailed her with a long, hard look. “Troubled?” She pinched her lips. “Cute and troubled. Please don’t go near that, Mary. Promise me.”

  “Of course not!” Mary insisted, but her voice felt shrill, even to her own ears, and she had a sudden feeling that she was lying. Not just to her sister. But to herself.

  She had enough trouble. More than her sister or Sam knew or would ever know. And the last thing she needed was any more of it.

  She’d try to remember that the next time Ben flashed her one of his elusive—and heart fluttering—smiles.

  ***

  The phone call came just as Ben was pulling to a stop in front of the apartment building. He knew it was her before he even glanced at the screen. Anger coursed through his blood when he saw the name, and he connected the call with the punch of his thumb.

  “It’s about time,” was all he said. He glanced in the rearview mirror. Violet was sound asleep, her snores soft over her steady breath. “You missed her birthday, Dana,” he hissed. “You missed her birthday.”

  “If you knew the day I had—”

  “I don’t really care about the day you had,” he said, his voice catching with fresh anger. “I care about the little girl who waited all day for the phone to ring. She’s asleep.”

  “Can you wake her?”

  He wanted to say no, teach his ex a lesson once and for all, but he didn’t want to break his daughter’s heart any more than it had already been broken. “I’ll have her call you back in five minutes,” he said, and disconnected the call.

  Cursing under his breath, he climbed out of the car and came around to Violet’s side. She protested when he tried to rouse her, but as soon as he told her that her mother had called, her eyes sprung open wide.

  “We’ll call her back once we’re inside,” he promised.

  He sighed heavily as Violet ran all the way to the building and up the three flights of stairs to the door. Once she was settled on the couch, he dialed the number and handed her the phone. He closed his eyes at her squeal of joy when the call went through.

  He didn’t know why it continued to disappoint him. Why it was okay for Dana to come and go, to break promises, to break hearts. That she was rewarded by the simple efforts, by material objects, as if love could be bought, not just earned.

  He shook away the thought. Dana was her mother. Violet should adore her. But it didn’t stop him from wanting more for his daughter.

  While Violet chatted away about school and her friends, Ben wrote out a check for Mary, chastising himself for taking this long to get it to her. He was overwhelmed, stressed, and not entirely himself these days. But that was no excuse. The truth was he had thought about Mary. More than he should. And he’d been resisting another encounter with her, resisting the way he felt when he was around her.

  He opened his door and stood in the small hallway, listening for any signs of life behind the solid wood door that divided his world from hers.

  With any luck he could just slip it under her door. Transaction made. Business finished.

  Just in case, he tapped on the door. Softly.

  He held his breath. No sound. Ignoring the twinge of disappointment, he crouched to slide the check when the door swung open. Ben glanced up, his eyes latching onto bare legs that he traced as he brought himself to a standing position. Mary’s eyes were bright and inquisitive, her full lips pulled into a small smile. “Hello,” she said, with a cute little tip of her head.

  She was wearing a long T-shirt, some kind of pajamas, he supposed. He forced his eyes to stay on hers, not to stray back to those long, smooth legs.

  “I have your check,” he said, thrusting it at her. “Sorry for the delay.”

  “No problem,” she said. She folded it in half, not even looking at the sum.

  Ben frowned slightly. She trusted him. To bring the money. To do the right thing. Or maybe she just knew where to find him.

  He rolled back on his heels. Something told him Mary would have been happy to do the party for free, out of the goodness of her heart, and that . . . well, he wasn’t really sure what to do with that.

  “How was work today?” he asked conversationally, not yet ready to turn and leave, go back to his apartment, not when she was standing here looking so pretty, so accessible, so . . . friendly.

  He supposed it was ironic that the one quality that had so annoyed him was the one he’d come to value the most about her. Come to depend on, really.

  He swallowed hard. You couldn’t depend on anyone. Only yourself. It was a lesson he’d learned the hard way. One Violet had, too.

  “Slow. A little stressful.” Mary heaved a sigh. “No new developments. I’m hoping things hold out until the end of the summer, when I’ve socked more away for repairs.”

  “I might be able to help,” he of
fered, feeling his pulse skip on the statement.

  Her eyes flashed on his. “Oh, no, I can’t take your money.”

  He laughed. It felt good. “No, I meant, I could stop by one day this week and take a look at the damage. I’m a contractor,” he explained, leaving it at that. He’d been trained as one, but he’d transitioned to project management years ago. Still, he was more than capable of assessing a situation and knowing what it would cost.

  The first genuine smile of the night broke her face, and Ben swallowed hard at the sight. Her pink lips curved at the corners, and her eyes danced. “This feels like fate! I mean, not in the fate fate sort of way.” She reddened. “I just mean . . . thank you.”

  “My pleasure,” Ben said easily. Really, it was no trouble, and given his position to help, he was hardly in a position not to offer it. Not with the kindness she’d shown Violet.

  She was a nice girl, if not an extremely attractive one, too, and his sister was right. He did need to join the land of the living again. Most of his buddies from the single days were married with kids now, most had flown to the burbs, and grabbing a drink with those that remained only revealed that heaviness in his chest. He wasn’t interested in the bar scene. Didn’t want to be dragged along to check out women, or even to chat them up. But a little friendly exchange with a neighbor was surprisingly pleasing. And it was innocent enough. It would have to be.

  Chapter Eight

  Mary couldn’t remember the last time she’d dressed up to go to work at Sunshine Creamery. Usually she was happy with a pastel-colored sundress in the summer, or a practical sweater and skirt or jeans in the fall and winter.

  But today, Ben was stopping by, and that made things, well . . . special.

  She’d slept in, something she rarely did, and took far too much time brushing her hair and experimenting with various shades of lip gloss. Having skipped breakfast, she treated herself to a latte and muffin from the Corner Beanery. Hardly a healthy lunch, but it kept her on budget, and what her sister didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her. If Lila didn’t think Mary was eating three healthy meals a day, she got twitchy.

  Mary grinned as she bent to rest her paper cup and bag on the stoop of Sunshine Creamery so she could pull the key free from her pocket and unlock the door. It was fun to mess with Lila a bit, every now and then, when it didn’t constitute as genuinely worrying her about anything serious. She still got a laugh when she thought of the horror in her sister’s face when Mary told her she’d eaten nothing but ice cream straight from the carton one night for dinner. Honestly, why dirty a bowl? And really, why bother to cook? And after all, wasn’t ice cream her specialty?

  Someday, she supposed, she would have someone to eat dinner with, like her sister did.

  Someone like Ben.

  She brushed that thought away quickly, scooped up her coffee and pastry bag, and flipped the sign on the door. It was already half past eleven and even though she doubted she’d see a customer all day, she felt the need to prepare today’s flavor. Somehow, not following through with her normal routine felt like giving up.

  And she couldn’t quit on Gramps. After all, he’d never quit on them.

  The snow was beginning to melt, but Mary was almost too scared to check the forecast. A little bit of ignorance went a long way in helping her mood at times. And what was the point in worrying about tomorrow when you still had to get through today? She had enough to worry about for the next few hours. Things like pipes and codes and surprise inspections . . . and Ben’s deep blue eyes and those oh so kissable lips.

  Well. That was about enough crazy talk for one morning!

  Mary set to work on a batch of strawberry shortcake ice cream, even though it was more of a summer flavor, and wrote it out on the big chalkboard sign she then dragged out to the sidewalk. She craned her eyes to the sun, listening to water pellets slide from rooftops onto the street below, and felt a flutter in her chest. It can only get better from here, she told herself. Spring would come, and soon. But would it be enough?

  She checked her watch again. Ben would be here any minute now. She turned back to the shop, for once grateful for the lack of traffic, and then wondered how she might busy herself when he came in. The place was spotless. There was no ice cream to make. She could pay bills, but oh . . . She set a hand to her stomach. She’d deal with that tomorrow.

  “Hello there.”

  Mary jumped at the deep, smooth voice, a smile curving her mouth before she even turned to look at the owner.

  “You’re early,” she said, allowing herself a brief glance up and down his perfect form.

  Yep. Hot. She was sort of hoping he’d show up looking much worse than he did in her mind. When she thought of him, that was . . .

  “Is that okay? I wanted to get an early start before I pick up Violet,” he explained, lifting his toolbox.

  “Are you kidding me? It’s more than okay. I really can’t thank you enough for stopping by to take a look at things. I’m sort of bracing myself for bad news, though.”

  “Let me see what’s going on.” His mouth quirked into a lopsided grin and he gave her a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Well, that was certainly friendly of him, Mary thought. If she didn’t know better, she would say the man was definitely warming up to her.

  Mary couldn’t hide her smile as she followed him back into the painfully empty ice cream parlor and led him to the back room. “This is where they replaced the pipe,” she said, pointing up to the gaping hole in the ceiling. She walked to her desk and ruffled through the papers until she found what she was looking for. “And this is the estimate I received. Well, one of them. They all say the same, more or less.”

  They all said she was in big trouble.

  Ben glanced at the estimate, giving a low whistle. “No more leaks?” he asked.

  Mary shook her head. “No, but I’m worried about inspections. Or another one busting. They said the pipes aren’t up to code. My grandfather bought this place so long ago, and at some point, he must have stopped thinking about maintenance.”

  Ben opened his toolbox and took out a flashlight. “Do you have a ladder?”

  “I have a chair,” Mary offered, and dragged the wooden one over from her desk.

  Ben climbed up and shone his light, craning his neck as he studied the pipes through the hole. Mary held her breath, waiting for the bad news to fall, but she was momentarily distracted by the hint of skin that flickered as Ben lifted his arm, pulling his shirt up in the process. His stomach was smooth and hard, and she felt something deep within her rouse.

  She looked away quickly. Enough of that. It was one thing to look. It was another to stare.

  And another to lust. Yes, lusting was completely unacceptable.

  Finally, he sighed and jumped off. “Well, these are old, and the truth is you do face the risk of more problems if you don’t do something about it. “He tucked the flashlight back into the box and looked at her squarely. “Do you want the good news or the bad?”

  Mary held her breath, daring to hope that meant the news wasn’t too bad. Either that or he enjoyed playing with her emotions. Both were entirely possible.

  “The bad news first.” She wouldn’t be able to enjoy the good news knowing something worse was following it.

  “Your pipes are not up to code, and the plumber was probably right about the one not holding up if we get another sub-zero day.”

  Mary felt her heart sink. “The good news now, please?” she asked weakly.

  “The good news is that unless you plan to do a major construction project anytime soon, I don’t think you need to worry about redoing all the plumbing. And another piece of good news is that the leaves are starting to bud on the trees. It’s mid-March. I don’t think you need to worry about another frozen pipe for a while.”

  “Oh, thank God,” Mary gushed, and fought the urge to fling her arms around his neck. It’s what she would have done with a friend, or even Sam, but Ben wasn’t quite a friend yet. She wasn’t sure what he w
as, actually. But somehow, he was beginning to feel like more than just a neighbor.

  “I have a feeling the people who came in to give you quotes were using scare tactics.” He arched a brow as he picked up his toolbox. “They knew an opportunity when they saw one.”

  Mary pursed her lips. She didn’t like the thought of men assuming she didn’t know a thing about plumbing just because she had girl parts, even if, admittedly, she didn’t know a thing about plumbing. Never really cared to, honestly. It was much more fun to make ice cream, and serve it to smiling customers. Now that she was a business owner, though, she’d need to learn these things.

  “Replacing a pipe is more doable than ripping out everything. I’ll call the contractor back tomorrow, just in case we get another cold front.”

  He looked at her quizzically. “I’ll have one of my guys stop by and do it tonight. We’ll get this ceiling patched up, too.”

  “What? I mean, no, the money . . . I don’t have it yet.”

  “Consider it a gift,” he said casually.

  “No. I mean, no, no, you’ve done enough. I can’t.” Mary blinked, feeling herself stiffen. A smile here and there was one thing, but this? This was a leap, something far bigger than she could have expected from the man who up until a couple weeks ago wouldn’t even make eye contact with her.

  “It’s really not a big deal.” Ben slid her a slow smile that made her heart beat a little faster. “I’ll oversee it myself, even. What time do you close?”

  “Seven. Nine in the summer.”

  “We’ll take care of it after you’ve closed then, so we don’t disrupt the customers.”

  Mary itched to point out that there probably wouldn’t be any customers to disrupt, but instead said, “Thank you. You don’t know how much I appreciate this. I might be able to sleep through the night tonight thanks to you.”

  His mouth quirked, and Mary felt her heart begin to pound, suddenly imagining him asleep just across the hall, a mere set of doors separating his body from hers.

  She startled suddenly. “Wait. Violet. Won’t she need to go to bed?”