Bittersweet

by Sarina Bowen

  Back in my motel room, before I picked up the phone to negotiate with my overlords, I asked myself a question. WWMBMD? What Would My Bitchy Mom Do?

  She and I never got along, but the woman knew how to drive a hard bargain. You couldn’t live in her house for twenty years and not learn a thing or two.

  “Seven dollars a bottle,” I told Burton Jr. over the phone. “You tasted it last month. Your sommeliers are going to love this bottle. You can mark it up to twenty-four bucks because there’s a lot of story here. The same Vermont family has been making this cider in small batches for four generations.” I was pretty sure that was true. “You should see this hilltop orchard. Twenty-thousand apple trees, and not just the usual picks. It’s all heirloom fruit, and they have such pretty wooden fermentation barrels…”

  “Hmm.”

  “You’ll make a good mark-up, and it’s still cheaper for the customer than a bottle of wine. Everybody wins.”

  “Well…”

  I held my breath in the silence. This was my third call to BPG. I’d been working on the guy all afternoon. Come on, Burton.

  “Will he make us a special label with our name on it?”

  I closed my eyes and tried to guess what Griff would say about that. He wouldn’t mind, right? “I think so. But you have to give him final approval, so everyone is happy with the branding.”

  “Right,” he said noncommittally. “Well, if you can get him down to six-seventy-five, I’ll take the six-thousand units.”

  Somehow I kept my tone neutral. “I’m pretty sure I can do that,” I said slowly. “I’ll call you a little later to confirm.”

  “Let me know,” he said and hung up.

  The second the line went dead, I squealed. Then I grabbed my purse and ran outside, leaving my crappy little cabin behind. Fifty yards away the lace curtains moved inside the owner’s little house. Griff wasn’t kidding. The old lady kept tabs on everything that moved.

  I drove two miles to The Mountain Goat and took a seat at the bar.

  “Hey lady,” Zara said. “How’s tricks?”

  “Bring me the finest Greek salad in all the land!” I cried. “It’s been a good day.”

  She smiled, and the diamond stud in her nose twitched. “You want chicken on that?”

  “Yep. I’m living it up. Another day of not getting fired is a good day. I’d love a beer, too. A…” I looked at the taps. “A Switchback. When in Vermont…”

  “Coming up.”

  I made myself drink half the beer before calling my boss. “Hey,” I said. “I got him down to six-seventy-five.”

  “Good work, Audrey! I’ll make a note of it.”

  “He’d, uh, like to get something in writing,” I added. These things were above my pay grade but I was pretty sure that promising someone forty-thousand dollars worth of cider was a little different than shaking hands over a few pallets of cabbages.

  “Okay. I’ll send a note down to contracts.”

  “Great. Gotta go! Thanks.” I got off the phone as Zara plunked a salad down in front of me. But before I dug in, I made one more call.

  “Hello?” The voice that answered the phone at Shipley Farm sounded too perky to be Griff’s.

  “Hi, this is Audrey Kidder calling. Is Griffin available?”

  “Sure! Hey Griff—it’s Audrey.”

  I heard a snicker before the phone abruptly changed hands. “Princess?” Griffin barked. “What’s up?”

  “Six-seventy-five for six-thousand bottles,” I said.

  “Come again?” he said slowly.

  I spoke more directly into the phone, though it wasn’t really loud in here. “Six dollars and seventy-five cents, six thousand times. That’s forty grand, big guy. I’m not that bad at math, no matter what Mommy says.”

  “That’s what I thought you said. Shit. Okay.”

  Hmm. His reaction wasn’t exactly how I’d imagined it. His indifference was confusing to me. So I decided to bail out of the phone call and cut my losses. “I’d better go. They just handed over my Greek salad.”

  “At the Goat?”

  “Where else?”

  He chuckled. “Good point. Okay. Eat up. You’ll need the energy.”

  The phone went dead before I could ask why.

  Whatever.

  I ate my salad and nursed my beer. When there was only a half inch left, I considered ordering a second one. But a girl had to celebrate modestly if she was ever going to have her own apartment.

  The last drops of ale had just been consumed when I felt a big body looming over me. I looked up to meet Griff’s laser stare. “Hi,” I squeaked.

  He said nothing, only took a twenty out of his wallet and threw it down on the bar. Then he took my hand and tugged me off the barstool.

  “Where are we going?”

  “To celebrate,” he said, guiding me past the rest of the evening crowd.

  “Celebrate?” I echoed as we reached the cooler air outside.

  “Fuck yeah.” He pushed me up against the clapboards and cupped the back of my head. “You feel like celebrating?”

  All my girly parts spasmed. But I tried to play it cool anyway. “How do you want to celebrate?” The question came out husky and desperate. My whole life I’d never been any good at playing it cool.

  He grinned suddenly. “Got two choices. We could drive to the Whippi Dip for some soft serve. What’s your favorite flavor? I’ll bet you’re not a plain vanilla girl.” His roughened thumb skimmed my cheekbone.

  “Um…” What was the question?

  A smile teased his full lips. “Now, if you don’t feel like soft serve, Plan B is driving you back to the motor lodge, where I fuck you ’til you scream my name. Your pick.”

  There’s no way I managed to hide the whole-body shiver that ran through me. “Is, uh, the soft serve organic and blessed by virgins under a full moon?”

  “Doubt it.” His eyes crinkled at the corners as he smiled down at me.

  “Then I suppose I’d better go with choice number two.”

  He kissed me so fast I didn’t even see it coming. But suddenly my hands were pinned to the wall on either side of me, and Griff’s mouth pressed hungrily down onto mine. Throwing all appearances to the wind, I opened for him immediately. He thrust his tongue over mine and groaned.

  All of me shimmied.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Griffin

  The taste of Audrey Kidder always made me lose my mind. Plundering her mouth right there outside The Mountain Goat, I gave up trying to fight it.

  I didn’t know why this feisty little woman had such a debilitating effect on me. Maybe I’d never figure it out. All I knew was that she stirred me up in a way that no one else did. I wanted her in every way a man could want her. I wanted her in my bed, underneath me. I wanted her up against this wall.

  I even wanted her to sit beside me on the way to the market, giving me lip for everything I said. And I wanted her hanging out in the kitchen putting cherries in the barbecue sauce and chatting up my sisters.

  Fuck, I had it bad.

  My hands were full of her sweet curves, and I was already drunk on the taste of her and as hard as the logs in my woodpile. Only the sweep of headlights as a car turned into the parking lot brought me halfway back into consciousness. With a Herculean effort, I broke our kiss and took a half-step backward.

  Audrey blinked up at me, looking as dazed as I felt.

  “Keys, princess,” I ordered.

  “What?”

  “Your keys.” I held out my hand. “To your rental car.”

  She fumbled into her purse and handed them to me. Aiming at the parking lot, I pressed the button. A late-model Rav4 blinked to life. At least they’d given her four-wheel drive this time. It might keep her out of ditches. Grabbing her hand, I walked her over to the passenger’s door, which I opened for her. Then I climbed into the driver’s seat and slid the seat back by about ten inches.

  We were halfway through the four-minute drive to the motor lodge
before she said, “You’re driving my car.”

  “Yep. Otherwise Mrs. Beasley will tell the whole world I spent the night in your room.” The place came into view, and I steered her vehicle toward the parking spot with the worst view into the main house. Then I popped Audrey’s seatbelt because she was still in a daze.

  When I opened her car door, though, she looked up at me with need in her eyes. She jumped out, grabbed the keys out of my hand and used one to open the door to her tiny cabin.

  I began undressing her the second the door clicked shut. I stripped her out of her top and threw it on the dresser. She reached for my fly and unzipped me. Then we were kissing again and stripping and kicking clothes away and stumbling over to her bed. I grabbed the quilt and yanked it back. The last thing I did before lying down was to grab the strip of condoms out of the pocket where I’d stashed them on my way over to fetch her from the Goat.

  Tearing one off, I handed it to her. Then I pulled her naked body onto my thighs until she was straddling me. Lifting both arms, I skimmed her soft curves until she purred. She was silky under my work-beaten hands. If I didn’t know better, I’d think she was too pristine to want my rough hands on her body. But I already knew with Audrey that what you see was not always what you got. Beneath her girl-next-door facade beat the heart of a perfect sinner.

  If there was a more attractive package on the planet, I’d never met her.

  She had the packet half open when my hands cupped her breasts, my thumbs gently scraping her nipples. Her head dropped back on a gasp, and she shuddered with desire as I stroked her tits.

  “Do your job, baby,” I prodded. “You can’t have my dick until you do.”

  Audrey clenched her body against my thighs and sighed. Then she sheathed me with shaking hands.

  “That’s it,” I coached her. “Now I’ve got to make sure you’re ready for me.” I skimmed a hand down her belly until my thumb dipped between her legs. We both hissed as I met slickness and heat. “Aw, yeah,” I panted. With her and me, everything always happened in a mad rush. For once I thought I might slow it down a notch. “Come here, princess.” I lifted her by the hips and pulled her up onto my chest. “Come closer. Farmers like to get dirty.”

  Her pink mouth fell open and she whimpered.

  “That’s right. Come here. All the way.” I tugged her perfect ass closer. The musky scent of her desire hit me like a rush. So I coaxed her up my body until I could reach what I wanted with my tongue. “Mmm,” I groaned as I licked up the center of her for the first time.

  “Oh, Griff,” she moaned above me. “Oh God.” Her hips moved in little jerks as I began to explore her with my tongue. Her thighs were tense on either side of my body as she strained to hold herself aloft.

  I tickled her thighs with my beard and chuckled. “Here, baby,” I said, lifting her hands off the headboard and placing them onto her breasts. “Work these for me.”

  Her eyes widened, but she did as I said, cupping her breasts and tweaking her nipples. Fuck, it was the hottest view I’d ever had in my life. I grabbed her ass and pulled her over my mouth again. We both moaned, and then I was practically drowning in willing, horny girl. That’s it, I inwardly coached her, because speech was impossible. Ride my tongue.

  “Ah. Ah. Ahh,” she bit out as she moved. The sounds she made were almost too much. My poor, ignored cock ached for want of attention. “Oh,” she moaned. “Grifff…” She ground down on my mouth. Hottest thing ever.

  She was close, but I wasn’t ready to let her go there yet. I grabbed her by the hips and shifted her down my body again. “Up, princess.”

  Audrey rose up on her knees on command. I positioned myself beneath her and then grabbed her hips, impaling her on my cock. She gave a yell of shock and pleasure, then tried to ride me. But I held her fast to my hips with a firm grip.

  “Please,” she begged.

  Christ. She was so hot and tight that I needed a minute to calm down. She struggled against my grip but I would not relent. “Who’s the best fuck you’ve ever had?” I growled.

  She dropped her chin, her silky hair hanging down, covering those perfect tits. “Y-you are,” she gasped out. “It’s not even a c-contest.”

  “Aw.” I squeezed her hips. “Good answer, baby. I feel like giving you a reward.” I let up on her hips. “Go on. Take what you need.”

  With a grateful moan, she began to ride me with short, purposeful thrusts. Her cheeks were pink, her eyes heavy with desire. And here I’d thought the best views in Vermont were of the foothills. This was the sexiest thing I’d ever seen—her breasts bouncing in time to the excited sounds she made. But something was missing. I tugged her shoulders down until she was spread out on my body, and I took her mouth in a greedy kiss.

  Her fingers threaded into my hair, and she moaned into my mouth.

  Heaven.

  Stressful week be damned—I had everything a man could ever ask for at that moment. I knew Audrey wasn’t mine. She lived hours away, and she’d be gone before the month was out. For this brief moment, though, everything was right with the world.

  I wrapped my arms around her body and rolled us over. She landed on the pillow, hair spread everywhere like an angel’s, wide-eyed and looking up at me like I hung the moon. Her sweet expression was what did me in. Desire snaked down my spine, frying all my control. I thrust my hips forward as she arched up for a kiss. The tension was too much. “Come, princess,” I begged, grabbing her thigh in one hand and yanking it up onto my body. The next thrust had me seeing stars. “Oh fuck,” I moaned. I dipped into her mouth, swallowing her answering moan, and felt her tighten everywhere around me.

  Just like that, I was done like dinner.

  Grunting like a beast, I poured myself into her, just like I’d wanted to do every damn minute since her last trip to Vermont.

  Beneath me, Audrey clenched and shuddered. I thrust once more, slowly, just for her. And her moan was like liquid pouring through my soul, seeping into all the empty places I didn’t even know I had.

  My body finally went slack. I rolled to the side, pulling her with me. With a satisfied sigh she pushed her face into my neck, and we both worked at catching our breath.

  “That was…” she whispered. “We… Urrmh.”

  My thoughts exactly.

  Then she pulled herself together and finished a sentence. “This beats the snot out of soft-serve ice cream.”

  My laughter was so sudden it startled me. I had to hold her tightly to my chest so that I didn’t bounce her clear off of me. “Don’t know what it is about you, princess,” I admitted when I finally stopped laughing. “You make me crazy.”

  “I like you crazy,” she whispered.

  “Mmm.” Sifting my fingers through her soft hair, I had the loopy, impractical idea that we might just belong together for keeps. Audrey was a hoot. She made me forget all the stressful parts of my life.

  “Sure like the way you celebrate,” she purred as her smooth fingers trailed through my beard.

  I turned my head and trapped her fingers between my lips, giving them a nibble before letting them go.

  “Hoped you’d be happy about the price I got for you,” she whispered.

  Right. The cider. Funny—but the celebration was at least as exciting as the news we were supposedly celebrating.

  Probably more so.

  “It’s a fair price, baby.” I gave her a quick kiss. “And the big order means I can invest in some sizeable tanks. My family won’t be quite so freaked out about the changes I’m making around here with an order for forty grand in cider.”

  “Mm-hmm.” Audrey trailed her lips across my collarbone and then down my chest, where she began dusting me with kisses.

  “Got to order those tanks tomorrow so I can fill ’em up next month.” I could just picture them, standing in my cider house, bubbling away. Fermenting the progress on which dreams were made.

  Audrey made a soft sound of agreement. But then she kissed her way up my neck, and I forgot about
cider tanks for the second time tonight.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Audrey

  Griffin was so quiet that I thought he’d fallen asleep. As men do.

  After a few minutes, though, he heaved a sigh and went into the little bathroom. I heard the sound of the shower running. When he emerged a few minutes later, I expected him to pull on his shorts and go. But that’s not what happened.

  He lay down on the bed again and pulled the covers up over both of us. “This place is kind of a dump,” he said, chuckling. “Looks like Mrs. Beasley renovated in the seventies.”

  “Eh, it’s rustic,” I said. “The room I rent in Boston is less cheery than this.” I thought of my pot-smoking pastry-chef roommate and all the dirty dishes he’d probably piled in the sink in my absence. If I weren’t around to give him a glare, he’d live like a pig.

  Griff made a noise of disapproval. Then he pulled me onto his big body. “Doesn’t seem right that your mother won’t help you land on your feet.”

  I looked down at him. “I’m on my feet. My life isn’t stylish, but I pay for it myself.” And, damn. That came out a little too forcefully. But I was touchy about this. Nobody could say that I wasn’t pulling my own weight.

  He smiled up at me. Then he ran his thumb down my nose so tenderly that it left me blinking with surprise. “Maybe I worded that badly. But the whole reason I want money is so that I can give it to my family. That’s why I work so hard.”

  Dropping my head onto his giant shoulder, I thought that over. “It’s not the only reason,” I argued. “You like what you do. Otherwise you wouldn’t give speeches to anyone who will listen about cider apples and consolidated pest management.”

  “Integrated pest management.”

  I pinched his ass.

  He pinched my boob.