Sweeter Than Sunshine (Sweeter in the City Book 2)

by Olivia Miles

  Mary reached out and took his hand, giving it a small squeeze. He waited to see if she would let it go, but she left it there. It felt small, warm and soft. “We all just do the best we can. It’s easy to be hard on ourselves, wonder what we could have done differently.”

  “And what do you have to feel guilty about?” he asked, genuinely curious.

  “The ice cream parlor.” She sighed and pulled her hand away to tuck her hair behind her ear. “I worry that I won’t be able to keep it going. That I will have let my grandparents down.”

  “We’re more alike than I first thought.” He paused, then added, “Even with all your little building initiatives.”

  She gave him a playful swat, and a bolt of desire zipped through him. “I think you just misjudged me. Though, in fairness, I might have done the same.”

  His gaze drifted lazily over her pretty face. “Well then, it’s a good thing we figured things out.”

  His eyes caught hers, just for a beat, and he heard her breath catch. Her eyes were soft, a warm cinnamon brown nearly the same color as her hair, and he felt something deep within him come to life.

  His gaze fell to her lips, soft and rosy pink and so full and smooth, he could almost imagine their taste. He leaned in, feeling the temperature as he did, slowly, just in case she didn’t want to, just in case he came to his senses and changed his mind. Only he wasn’t thinking, not clearly anyway. No, he was just feeling, acting on his feelings, on this need that wouldn’t go away, on the desire that he couldn’t shake.

  He kissed her softly, his lips brushing hers, and a surge of heat tore through him at the sensation. He kissed her again, lightly, and she opened her mouth to his, leaning in until she was close enough for him to reach out and touch. He wrapped an arm around her waist, sliding her body closer to his until the swell of her breasts were pressed up against his chest. Their kiss grew deeper, and he could feel the pounding of her heart against his body, the warmth of her skin and the honey scent of her hair. He kissed her long and hard, wanting to abandon himself to this moment, to think of nothing, but to just feel the taste of her mouth, the smooth curves of her body, the comfort of her touch.

  Slowly, they pulled apart. Her lips curved into a slow, shy smile. Her lashes fluttered when she blinked. “That was nice,” she said softly.

  “It was,” he said, his voice husky and low. He tensed. His bedroom was just a few feet away, but so was his daughter’s. If she stayed much longer, looking at him from under the hood of her lashes like that, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to hold back from wanting more. And he did want more. So much more.

  “Are you free next Friday?” he asked, remembering the sleepover party Violet had been looking forward to since she brought home the invitation. “It might be nice to have an evening to ourselves. Just the two of us.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” She tipped her head toward the door. “I guess I should probably go.”

  Neither of them made any motion to move, and Ben fought the urge to kiss her again, knowing if he did, it could lead to more than it should . . . for tonight. Finally, she stood, and Ben resisted the disappointment he felt.

  He’d see her Friday. And if he couldn’t wait until then, he knew where to find her.

  ***

  Mary knew that she needed to put Friday out of her mind, almost as much as she needed to stop thinking about that kiss. But as the hours slowly ticked by on Sunday, she knew there was little chance of that.

  Sunshine Creamery was busy all afternoon, and chances were it would just continue on that trend through the spring and summer. In many ways, it was as if these long, lonely, worrisome months had never happened at all. The hole in her ceiling had been patched, and now there was no evidence that it had ever even been ripped up. No one would have any idea that anything had happened here: that the pipes had burst, that she’d seen no income for three months. No one would be any wiser. No one other than her.

  Something had to change, and she just wasn’t sure what. But she couldn’t continue on this path forever, working long shifts and making the ice cream, handling the books and the maintenance, without any help. Her grandparents had each other. And what did she have?

  That little bubble returned to her stomach, but she just dug her metal scoop deeper into a batch of chocolate chip ice cream and smoothed it into a waffle cone before handing it over to a smiling boy with two missing front teeth.

  She didn’t have anyone, not technically speaking. Not yet anyway, she thought, allowing herself one more memory of that kiss.

  Mary closed the shop at seven on the dot that evening, deciding not to stick around to clean up, but instead, to come in early the next day. Most Sundays, she had dinner with her sister and Sam. It was a standing invitation; the door was always open to her, and since her last break up, she’d been taking them up on the offer.

  Unsure of what would happen if she ran into Ben so soon after the kiss and so many days away from their date, and not wanting to sit in her lonely apartment and worry about things like Sunshine Creamery and how she would handle next winter, or the credit card debt she’d accrued over the last few months, she grabbed her coat and walked east toward Lila and Sam’s apartment. Lila always had a way of making her feel like a guest, and she knew it was a win-win for both of them. Lila liked to dote on her, and sometimes Mary liked to feel taken care of. Other people had mothers, aunts, spouses to fill their hearts. She had Lila.

  And the ice cream parlor, she reminded herself firmly.

  She was only three blocks from her sister’s street when she saw him. Standing at the corner, his hand held in the air to hail a cab, it would have been so easy to pretend she hadn’t seen him, kept walking. Her heart began to pound as she stared at him. He was just as tall as she’d remembered, with the same thick eyebrows and haircut, but then, people didn’t change much in a few months, did they? No, Jason looked exactly the same now as he did the last time she’d seen him, the day before he’d abruptly ended their five-month relationship. In a one-line text.

  She pursed her lips, recalling Jason’s heartless suggestion that she “cross the friendship bridge” and, before she stopped to think things through, did the next thing closest to that and crossed the street.

  He didn’t notice as she approached, and with a loud and clear voice, a hint of feigned surprise in her tone, as if she wasn’t quite sure it was him, because it had been that long and because she never really thought of him, she called out, “Jason?”

  He dropped his hand, turning in confusion, but when his eyes found hers, they widened slightly. “Mary. Wow. Mary. I’ve . . . um, I’ve been meaning to call.”

  She put on her sweetest smile, pretending that her heart wasn’t thudding, that this was easy for her, that she was over it. That she didn’t wonder where she went wrong, that she hadn’t questioned her choices. That she didn’t sometimes sit in that empty storefront and wonder if she could have been sitting in Jason’s apartment instead.

  She knew he hadn’t been meaning to call. It angered her that he could think she’d even want him to. Even if she had . . . once. “You were? Why?”

  He gaped at her for a moment, and then ran his hand through his hair. She mentally rolled her eyes. He was a bad liar. Why hadn’t she ever seen that before?

  But then, she’d overlooked many of Jason’s faults before. She’d seen what she wanted to see. The fun times, the suggestions of weekend getaways that she was never in a position to take. But when it got deep, when the conversation mattered, well, he stopped listening, didn’t he?

  “How are you?” he asked, even though he didn’t seem to particularly care for a real answer.

  “Good, very good,” she said, nodding coldly. “I’m just leaving work now, actually.”

  Jason frowned. “Still making ice cream?”

  She scowled at him, hearing the scorn in his voice, realizing it had always been there. It wasn’t just that he hadn’t supported her dream to keep her family business going, that he found he
r weekend and evening hours inconvenient, it was that he looked down on it, thought it somehow beneath him.

  “Still running Sunshine Creamery,” she clarified. She looked him up and down, feeling the distance that had somehow, naturally, come to her. He was handsome, objectively speaking, but she wasn’t attracted to him anymore, she realized with a start. To be attracted to someone, you had to like them inside out, and she didn’t like Jason very much after all.

  A cab with glowing lights appeared down the street, and Mary jutted her chin toward it. “Grab it before someone else does.”

  “It was nice seeing you, Mary,” Jason said.

  “Yeah, real nice,” Mary said, matching his polite tone. She turned her back and walked away, not waiting until he’d climbed into the cab, only she didn’t continue on toward her sister’s house. Somehow the thought of being in her apartment didn’t feel so lonely, and somehow the thought of those bills and debts didn’t feel so looming.

  Her step felt lighter as the feelings that had weighed on her for months began to melt away, as quickly and surely as the long winter’s snow. For months she’d wondered if she’d been at fault, if she’d made the wrong choices, prioritized the wrong things. Now, that doubt was over.

  Jason wasn’t the guy for her. Not in the end, and probably not even when they were together. She needed a guy who supported her dreams, not one who stomped on them. She needed someone who understood her choices. Someone who believed in the meaning of family.

  And she knew one guy who most definitely did.

  Chapter Eleven

  Mary eyed the clock on her nightstand. Ben was going to knock on her door in exactly twenty-two minutes for their date, and her sister was still sitting on her bed, lazily flicking through bridal magazines. Sam was going out for drinks with some guy friends, she’d told Mary when she spontaneously dropped by fifteen minutes ago, while Mary was still trying to catch her breath from her near sprint home.

  “So, a Friday night to yourself, huh?” Mary stood anxiously in the entrance to her bedroom, craning her neck toward the front door in case Ben decided to stop by a little early. “Sounds like the perfect night for a good book and a bubble bath,” Mary said, hoping her sister would take the hint.

  Lila sighed, and then closed the magazine. “I had another idea.”

  “Oh?” Mary eyed her closet door. She’d hoped to change and fix her makeup before eight o’clock, but at this rate, she’d be lucky to have time to even brush her hair.

  Lila’s eyes gleamed. “Let’s order a pizza. With all the toppings. I’ve been on this wedding diet for so long, I’ve forgotten what carbs even taste like anymore.”

  Mary smiled weakly. She missed these nights alone with her sister. Back when they were roommates they’d had a routine, the comfort of each other’s company. They’d go to the Farmer’s Market in Lincoln Park every weekend when it was in season, spend their summer weekends reading on the warm sand sticking their toes in Lake Michigan’s icy water. They’d eat dinner together, sitting on the little fire escape they’d turned into a makeshift balcony, and chat over wine. But Lila had Sam now, and Mary had Sunshine Creamery.

  And tonight she had a date. One that started in—she glanced at the clock—nineteen minutes.

  She eyed her sister, who was perched on the bed, patiently waiting for Mary’s response. Mary felt her shoulders slump. There was no way around it. She was going to have to tell her sister about her plans.

  “I actually have . . . a date tonight,” she said. She closed her eyes, bracing herself. When she opened them again Lila was staring at her with a knowing smirk.

  “A date? I knew all that talk about not needing a guy was just a defense mechanism.”

  “No,” Mary insisted, growing cross. “It wasn’t. I really would rather be alone than with another guy who is just going to blindside me, and dump me without warning.”

  She felt her pulse begin to flicker. Ben seemed nice, but was he different than the rest? She thought of the way he was with Violet, the tutus littered around his man cave of an apartment, the tenderness in his eyes when he spoke of her.

  He was different, she told himself firmly. Otherwise, she wouldn’t be risking her heart again.

  “Well, this guy must be really special then.”

  “He is,” Mary said defensively. “I mean, I think he is.” She frowned.

  “Where’d you meet him?” Lila asked as she crossed one long leg over the other.

  Mary eyed the clock. Her sister was settling in for a long chat, but Mary was down to seventeen minutes.

  “Just . . . around,” she said vaguely as she walked over to her closet and flicked on the light. Around the building. Around the third floor. Yes, around would suffice.

  She could feel the heat of Lila’s gaze on her back. Her sister wasn’t buying it, and why should she?

  Mary pulled her favorite black dress from the hanger, remembered that she had worn it the first—and last—time she’d gone out to dinner Jason, and quickly put it back. She needed something fresh and new, nothing to taint this evening or remind her of the past.

  “Just around?” Lila mused. “Wouldn’t be . . . around the building, would it?”

  Mary turned, flashing her eyes on her sister, who was struggling to compose herself. “Okay, fine. If you must know, the man I’m going out with tonight is Ben. The man across the hall.”

  “Mary!” Lila slapped a hand against the bed, the sound muted by the thick duvet cover. “I told you, he’s no good!”

  Mary pulled in a breath and counted to three as she crossed the room and pulled open her dresser drawers. Black pants and a slinky top. Perfect. She’d bring a cardigan in case she got chilly.

  “I told you,” she said, as she wiggled out of her work clothes. “He’s—”

  “Troubled.” Lila’s eyebrows rose. “I know.”

  “He’s had a rough time lately. The divorce—”

  “He’s divorced!” Lila cried. “Mary, what are you doing?”

  “I’m putting myself out there again.” Mary’s hands shook as she fastened her earrings. “I thought that’s what you wanted.”

  “But he lives across the hall! You just moved in. If things don’t work out, won’t that be awkward?”

  Mary swallowed hard. Her sister had a point. She usually did.

  “Who said it won’t work out?” she asked pertly, but she felt the familiar twinge of unease in her stomach. She glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes now.

  “I just don’t want to see you get hurt again,” Lila said. She shook her head, sighing with an air of disappointment. Mary stared at her, thinking of all the times she’d acted impulsively, all the times she’d messed something up and had gone running to her sister to help make things better. She thought of Sunshine Creamery, and how she’d relied on her sister to keep it open right after their grandfather had passed, how she’d been so sure this was what she wanted, that she’d be good at it, that she’d succeed.

  “I know what I’m doing,” she said, and left the room to go primp in the bathroom.

  She closed the door behind her, her heart feeling heavy, but not because she didn’t like fighting with her sister.

  Because her sister was always right. And because she wasn’t so sure she knew what she was doing at all.

  ***

  Ben stood in front of the Italian bistro, completely silent, trying to understand what he was looking at. The tall glass windows were covered in brown paper, the light above the front door was dim, and the two signs taped to the inside glass indicated the restaurant had closed more than ten months ago.

  Oh, wouldn’t Emma have a field day with this.

  “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve been here.” More like it had been a while since he’d been out at all, unless you counted kid-friendly activities as a healthy social life. “I loved this place. I thought you would too.” He turned to Mary, whose brown eyes shone with amusement.

  “I don’t mind,” Mary said with a shrug, and s
omething in her demeanor told him she didn’t, that it wasn’t about an expensive meal, or candlelight, or a trendy scene. That she was here for him. For the right reason. That her priorities were in the right place.

  “There’s a sushi place around the corner,” he suggested.

  She raised her eyebrows. “It closed last summer. It’s a frozen yogurt place now.”

  “Oh.” He ran a hand over his jaw, his mind coming up blank. “You know, I actually put some thought into this,” he said to her, lest there be any confusion.

  “I know,” she said lightly. “But I don’t care where we go. I’d even be happy with . . . pizza.”

  He barked out a laugh. “You’re kidding me.”

  “I like pizza,” she said simply. “And I know you do, too. What do you say? My place?”

  Ben grinned. “I say yes.”

  They stopped by the corner grocery store on their way back to the building to buy frozen pizza dough, fresh mozzarella, a variety of toppings, and a bottle of champagne.

  “Classy,” Mary laughed, as he added the bottle to their basket.

  “Hey, it is our first date,” he said, exploring the word on his tongue. A date. He hadn’t been on a date since college. It felt foreign, strange, and almost natural all at once. Mary was easy to be with, casual with her conversation, familiar somehow.

  “Well, in that case . . .” Mary plucked a box of chocolates from a shelf on their way to the check-out line. “Can’t forget dessert.”

  “You mean your freezer isn’t stocked with ice cream?”

  Mary laughed. “Oh, it is. But even I get tired of it after a while. Shh.” She held a finger to her mouth as she grew close to his ear, her breath light and warm on his skin, causing his skin to prickle with pleasure.

  The brownstone they shared was just up the block, and Ben found himself looking at it with fresh eyes. It was no longer a symbol of failure, a depressing hovel he’d been reduced to. Now it was the place where Violet lived, where Mary lived, where good things had started to happen, where new possibilities began. For the first time, it felt like home.