I Want Candy

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I Want Candy Page 8

by Susan Donovan


  In fact, a whole mess of secrets began to unravel with Cheri’s return. A forty-year-old murder mystery reemerged. Tanyalee admitted that she’d once trapped J.J. into marrying her simply to get revenge on Cheri. And Cheri’s granddaddy—after a few too many trips to the keg—blurted out to his retirement-party guests that he and J.J. had lured Cheri to the publisher’s chair knowing she’d lost her fortune and wanting to give her a hand without bruising her pride.

  As if all that weren’t enough, the drama was topped off by a hostage situation, where Tanyalee, Cheri, and Candy nearly got themselves killed.

  No wonder Tanyalee checked herself into rehab a few days afterward. Candy would have gone along if she’d had the cash. So, yes, Cheri was right—there was going to be a lot of shit to sort out when Tanyalee got home.

  She decided to change the subject to something much happier. “Have you decided what you’re going to do about your engagement party?”

  Thankfully, the question brought a smile to her best friend’s face. “Yes!” Cheri said, perking up. “J.J. and I thought we’d have a get-together out here, you know, something casual. Live music and swimming. Tater Wayne can barbecue. And would you do me the honor of making cupcakes?”

  Candy felt her rocking chair come to a halt.

  “No?” Cheri’s eyes widened. “I realize you haven’t done much baking lately, but I figured—”

  “Of course I will,” Candy said, managing a smile as she resumed her rocking. She wouldn’t be touchy about this, she decided. If her best friend wanted cupcakes for her engagement party, she’d have cupcakes. “Just let me know as soon as you’ve picked a date. Speaking of which, have you chosen a date for the actual wedding yet?”

  Cheri shrugged. “Probably late fall. We’re not in any rush. J.J. said he always wanted to get married by an Elvis impersonator in Vegas, and I told him that sounded great and to send me a photo of him and the lucky lady, whoever she might be.”

  Candy howled with laughter. “Where is J.J. tonight, anyway?”

  “Working late at the paper.”

  Candy rested her head against the rocker and took a sip of cold beer. She kicked off her flip-flops. It wasn’t long before they both took note of her bare feet, then looked at Cheri’s bare feet, and started to laugh.

  “We’ve become barefoot mountain women,” Cheri said.

  “Oh, Lord, I just realized I haven’t worn a pair of outrageously expensive shoes for over a year,” Candy said, sounding pitiful. “I doubt I would even remember how to walk in them.”

  “Tell me about it. Sometimes I fantasize about just fondling a pair of Christian Louboutins.”

  “Oooh, or a good Coach bag.”

  “Forget Coach—how about a Birkin?”

  Candy moaned. “Now you’re just being a purse tease.”

  The women laughed again, until the laughter ended in identical sighs. They sat in quiet for a few moments, listening as the sounds of an evening by the lake enveloped them.

  “Thanks for letting me hang here while Jacinta and Hugo get their freak on.”

  Cheri chuckled. “You know you’re welcome here anytime—all the time. I told you to come stay with us, remember?”

  Of course she remembered—and she’d refused the offer every time. Candy shook her head in silence, and instead of responding, she decided to watch the orange, red, and pink ripples of sunset dance on the water. “Moving right along—I need to talk to you about Turner.”

  Cheri sat straight up in her rocker, planting her feet flat on the wooden porch as if she were bracing herself. “Okay,” she whispered.

  Candy lolled her head to the side and gazed at her friend. “He still wears his wedding ring.”

  “I know. He hasn’t gone on a single date since Junie died.”

  “He doesn’t seem to want to talk about her, though. At least not with me.”

  Cheri hissed. “He doesn’t even open up to J.J. much about her and they’re still practically joined at the hip. Turner is an extremely private person, you know. J.J.’s tried to get him to open up, but Turner hasn’t done his grieving in front of anyone, apparently not even his brother and mother.”

  Candy nodded, mulling that over. “Cheri?”

  “Hmm?”

  “You would remember if Turner ever asked me out in high school, wouldn’t you?”

  Her friend scrunched up her brow. “Of course I’d remember! Did he? You never mentioned that he did, though J.J. claims he always wanted to date you.”

  Candy placed her beer on the porch and dropped her face into her hands.

  “What?” Cheri touched her arm. “Did something else happen with Turner? What’s going on?”

  Candy raised her eyes again and shook her head. “I wish I could tell you what’s going on, but I don’t know how to describe it. I’m having these feelings for Turner that I just don’t get. We kissed again today.”

  “Seriously?”

  Candy sat up straight and took a moment to gather her thoughts. “No. You’re right. I don’t think calling it ‘kissing’ is accurate. We attacked each other today. He initiated it this time, and we went from zero to out of control in seconds. I swear I could have ripped the man’s clothes off and done him right there in the parking lot, video or not.”

  Cheri’s eyes got big. “Um, what parking lot? What video?”

  “The municipal complex. After I delivered his lunch.”

  Cheri sucked in air. “Whoa,” she whispered. “That’s crazy.”

  “You have no idea,” Candy said, shaking her head in bewilderment. “I’ve never felt this out of control with a man. It’s like it doesn’t matter what’s right or smart because my body knows what it wants and doesn’t give a damn about anything else.”

  Cheri gasped again.

  “But honestly, I can’t be messin’ with Turner like that. Casual sex would ruin our friendship, and even if he was ready for it, I couldn’t start anything real with him because I don’t plan to be here long.”

  A sad look crossed Cheri’s face and she scrunched up her mouth.

  “You know I’d never be able to carve out a life for myself in Bigler the way you have.” Candy hated that she had to say all this aloud, but it had to be put out in the open eventually. “It’s obvious that Jacinta and I will never connect, and she’s my only family here. The job market is nonexistent. And you know I love you, but you’re going to get married soon, and you’ll have your own family to focus on. I’ll come visit. I promise.”

  Cheri nodded, trying not to cry.

  “We’ll always be a part of each other’s lives.”

  “I know.”

  Candy reached over and hugged her friend.

  “But then again…” Cheri tipped her head.

  Candy waited.

  “Maybe you shouldn’t write Turner off so fast. Maybe there’s something there. Maybe there’s always been something there with you two, and your body is just trying to get you to pay attention to what’s in your heart. Maybe this is your opportunity to figure it out.”

  Candy bit her lip and stared at the lake again. Admittedly, she’d never thought of it quite that way. Cheri could be right. But still, if she and Turner ended up having an insanely hot fling—and it was obvious that would be the kind they’d have—where would it lead? Even if she found some kind of professional work nearby, was she ready for a committed, long-term relationship? Had she ever been?

  “I don’t have such a great track record with men,” Candy said. “You know that better than anyone.”

  Cheri shrugged. “I didn’t, either, but I’m pretty sure the past is only good for one thing and that’s getting a person where they are at the present.”

  Candy smiled. “You sound like a wizened old newspaper publisher.”

  Cheri started to laugh, but it was cut short when they both heard tires crunching on the gravel lane.

  “Huh,” Cheri said, craning her neck. “That doesn’t look like J.J.’s truck.”

  That’s because it w
asn’t. Within ten seconds both women realized that Turner had just arrived.

  Chapter 8

  “Oh, shee-it,” Candy whispered.

  Cheri stood up and waved as Turner hopped down from the vehicle. He’d taken two steps toward the cottage when he saw Candy in the rocker, then swiveled his head to find her car parked in the shadows.

  “Oh,” Turner said, sheepishly shoving his hands in his uniform trousers. “Hey, listen, let J.J. know I swung by. I assumed he’d be around…” Turner took another quick glance at Candy. “Ya’ll enjoy your evening. Sorry to disturb.”

  “Wait.” Candy jumped up from the rocking chair and ran down the front steps in her bare feet. Before she knew it, she was standing directly in front of Turner, their eyes locked in the twilight. She grabbed his hand. “You got a minute to talk?”

  “Sure.” He revealed just a hint of a smile.

  “I’ll be inside if ya’ll need anything,” Cheri said, a bit too cheerfully.

  Candy led him to the dock, painfully aware of the warm bulk of his hand in hers. The dock would be as good a place as any, she guessed, since she had no idea what she was doing or what she was going to say to him. Hadn’t she just declined Turner’s offer for dinner a few hours ago? Hadn’t she just dismissed his suggestion that they talk? Yes, she had. But when she saw his beautiful face just now, that mix of sorrow and desire in his expression, she knew dealing with him was her only option.

  No matter what else came of this, she cared for Turner. He was one of her oldest friends.

  Candy squeezed his hand. She looked up at him as he walked by her side, and smiled.

  * * *

  Female. Luscious female. She was female in every respect—her scent, her soft touch, her laughter, her intangible energy. The essence of Candy reached out and caressed his body, poured into his being, flooded his senses.

  Turner allowed himself to inhale long and deep, letting all that she was settle deep inside him.

  God, how he loved women. Damn, he’d gone too long without feeling the pleasure of simply being in a woman’s company.

  Truth be told, he hadn’t allowed himself to experience this. There were women everywhere in Turner’s world, every day, and some of them had been less than subtle about what they wanted from him. But it had been as if he were deaf to their call, no matter how sexy they were, how smart or funny or appealing. Nothing—no one—had tempted him since Junie’s death.

  No one but Candy, the woman here at his side. Her thigh pressed against his as their feet dangled over the edge of the dock, occasionally knocking together. They both pretended it was accidental. They both knew it wasn’t.

  They’d been sitting in near silence for about ten minutes. It was as if they were getting used to being in each other’s presence at a lower frequency. They were doing pretty good—so far, there’d been no wild kisses, or gropes, or thighs flung around his hips.

  “Turner?”

  “Yeah.”

  “We’re both adults, right?”

  “I sure as hell hope so, ’cause what I’m thinking is for mature audiences only.”

  She giggled just a little, but he watched her struggle with her feelings. When she bowed her head, that stunning curtain of blond curls obscured the side of her face. As much as he loved her hair, he needed to see her expression. So Turner used his fingers to push the thick waves aside and tuck them behind her ear.

  She looked up, wariness in her eyes. “You are a very good man,” she whispered, and though the words were pleasant enough, a large lump had already formed in his gut. He already heard the “but” coming …

  “I’ve always known you’re considerate and honest and loyal,” she added, just before she took a lightning-quick glance at his wedding ring, still visible in the near dark.

  Ah. So that’s what it was.

  “And I only recently figured out that you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever known.”

  Okay. I hadn’t seen that coming. “Thanks,” he said, slightly embarrassed. “And you’re incredibly—”

  “Wait—I’m not finished with you.”

  Turner laughed, and he figured that since she saw him as such a stud, she wouldn’t mind if he slipped his arm around her waist and pulled her a little closer.

  Apparently, he was wrong.

  Candy peeled his hand from her body, then gave it a friendly pat as a consolation prize. Somehow, it didn’t seem like the move of a woman overcome with his sex appeal.

  “Turner, it’s fairly obvious that you’re still grieving for your wife. I don’t want to interfere with that. And the truth is, I’m not sticking around Bigler any longer than I absolutely have to, so as much as I’d enjoy rolling around in bed with you, I don’t think that kind of fling would be good for either of us.”

  Turner leaned back, propped himself on his hands, and gave her statement some thought. There was nothing unkind about what she said. In fact, it was downright noble. She was protecting his heart. She was interested in doing the right thing—both for him and for herself. He admired that.

  There was just one problem—he wasn’t feeling anywhere near as decent. In fact, since that white-hot make-out session in the parking lot, he’d been walking around mostly indecent, with the majority of his blood supply backed up in his boxer shorts. He hadn’t been able to shake the feel of her soft body against his, the way she melted into him, fit around him, surrendered under him. He couldn’t shake the taste of her sweet mouth or the rich scent of her arousal.

  For the rest of the day, Turner had felt like a sex-addled zombie, stumbling through the joint task force meeting while every cell in his body continued to vibrate from his encounter with Candy. By three o’clock, he realized he might be ready to move on, to let Junie go. By five o’clock, he realized the time had come for him to live again—he was sure of it.

  In fact, right at that moment, he’d have to say his vote was for rolling around in bed—and fuck the consequences.

  “What are you thinking?”

  Turner tried not to laugh. He really did. But it was just too funny—the reason he’d driven out here was to tell J.J. he’d made up his mind to ask Candy to date him. Officially. And here she was, turning him down before he could even spit out the words! So when he laughed, it had come out sounding pretty bitter.

  “I was just being honest with you,” she said, obviously hurt. Candy brought her legs up under her and began to push to a stand. “I should go.”

  He touched her arm, stopping her. “It wouldn’t be just a fling and you know it.”

  She stared at him with wide eyes, but didn’t move.

  “I haven’t been with anyone since Junie passed, and if you and I did end up in bed together, it wouldn’t be just some kind of hookup. It would be special. You are special. You have always been special.” Turner paused a moment, weaving his fingers with hers and staring down at the sight, dark and light laced together. “This is special, Candy.”

  She nodded softly, but Turner swore she looked like she was about to cry. That would be a first.

  “Thank you,” she whispered.

  “So could we just—”

  She placed the fingers of her free hand over his lips to shush him, shaking her head gently. “Let’s just leave it at that, okay? Maybe if things had been different, if the timing had been better … I don’t know.”

  He pulled her fingers from his lips. “You owe me an explanation, Candy. Why now, all of a sudden?”

  She cocked her head in confusion.

  “Why did you suddenly notice me? After all these years?”

  Her eyes flashed with something close to embarrassment. “I’ve always noticed you. I’ve always liked you. A lot.”

  “But you said yourself that you just now saw me in a different light.”

  Candy grinned. “No. What I said was that I just realized you’re the sexiest man I’ve ever known.”

  “Yeah. I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

  She laughed. “I’m not sure why, Turner,
okay? But there you were, pulling me over with your flashing lights and your bright smile and it was like I was seeing you for the first time. That probably doesn’t make much sense.”

  “Oh, yes it does,” he said, “I was suddenly out of context. I wasn’t your childhood running buddy, hanging out with you and J.J. and Cheri, like always. Plus, you were practically naked from the waist up, and that might have given you a slightly different perspective.”

  “That’s an exaggeration.”

  Turner laughed. Very carefully, he leaned in closer to her, now gripping both her hands in his. “The point is I think you saw me, just a man, for probably the first time.”

  Candy frowned slightly and turned away, moving her eyes to stare at the water. “Tell me the rest of that story,” she said, a hesitance in her voice.

  “Which story?”

  Candy glanced at him again, the corners of her mouth turned down and her chin trembling. “When you drove me to Viv’s you mentioned something about the night you called and my dad answered the phone.”

  Turner pulled back, surprised. He studied her for a moment, but saw nothing but sincerity in her eyes. “All right.”

  “It’s just that I think I’m starting to remember some of it,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper. “I need you to fill in the blanks, if you don’t mind.”

  Turner freed his hands from hers, turned his body square with the edge of the dock, and gazed out over the lake. “All right,” he said. “It had taken me months to summon the courage to ask you out on a date, but I finally decided that the moment was right. You had just broken up with Petey Swanson, remember?”

  A vague smile touched her lips.

  “But your daddy picked up the phone. I was very polite. I said, ‘Good evening, sir. This is Turner Halliday. May I please speak to Candy?’” He turned toward her again, and saw the pain in her expression, but he continued. “Your father asked me why I wanted to talk with you, and, since I knew I’d have to go through your father one way or another, I told him I wanted to date you.”

 

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