Love Like Ours (Sugar Lake Book 3)

by Melissa Foster

  Talia groaned.

  “Love you, sis.” Piper disappeared out the door, then poked her head back in and pointed at Willow. “You, me, Aurelia. Next weekend. We need to firm up renovation dates for the bakery and bookstore merger. Got it?”

  “Shoot. I forgot to tell you that Aurelia is still working out her finances. We’re going to need some time,” Willow said. “But we’ll keep you in the loop.”

  “Okay, and we’re on for bridal gown shopping Saturday? Do not reschedule, or you’ll have me to deal with. I turned down a really hot date for this.” On that threat, Piper slipped away.

  Talia grabbed her coat. “I need to get to work, too. Did you guys get Mom a birthday gift yet? I can’t decide what to buy her.” Their mother’s birthday dinner was next week.

  “Nope,” her sisters said in unison.

  “What about a weekend away for her and Dad?” Talia suggested. “Maybe something they can use in the spring or summer?”

  “I’d pitch in for that,” Willow said. “I think we should pay for the weekend but let them plan the dates.”

  “Me too. Can you pick a place, Tal?” Bridgette asked. “I’m swamped.” She pulled out her phone and began texting. “I’m asking Ben and Piper if they want to pitch in.”

  “Sure. I’ll get on it.” Talia made a mental note to start looking into romantic getaways, which sent her mind straight back to Mr. Blue Eyes. “I’d better get going.”

  “Piper and Ben are both in,” Bridgette said.

  “Wait!” Willow went around the kitchen putting cannoli and other treats in a box. “Take these in case you decide to meet Derek. You’re one hot tamale. Chances are he’s having just as rough a time as you are.” She winked and said, “A little sugar goes a long way.”

  “What makes you think they’ll make it all the way to Harmony Pointe?” Talia asked, wondering how many pastries she could eat before she exploded. She put on her coat, grabbed her purse, and picked up the box.

  “Because she knows how you hate to keep presents from the people they’re meant for,” Bridgette said as she headed for the door that led from the kitchen into the bakery. Her flower shop was attached to Willow’s bakery by an arched opening. “Now you have an excuse to see Derek instead of an excuse not to.”

  Damn it. They knew her too well. “Would one of you please tell Piper I decided not to see him? Or tell her I decided to see him. I don’t care what you say, as long as you stop her from showing up and embarrassing me.”

  “On it!” Willow promised. “And Tal?” she said softly as Bridgette left the kitchen.

  “Hm?”

  “You look even more beautiful with that sparkle in your eye. At least think about seeing him, okay? One more baby step out of your comfort zone? For me? You don’t have to do anything inappropriate, but he obviously has had an effect on you. A good one.”

  “As if I can stop thinking about him.”

  As much as her sister’s words comforted her, she wondered if Willow would be as supportive if she knew about his dancing.

  Talia’s class was even more interesting than the others Derek had attended, and not just because Professor Dalton had seared herself into his mind over the last few days, stroking his darkest thoughts and becoming the headliner in his late-night fantasies. Maybe more surprising was that as hot as those thoughts were, he wanted to talk to her more, to get to know everything about her. She brought up concepts and posed questions in class that made him think about things in new ways, which he liked—even if it was hard as hell trying to concentrate with her strutting around in a skintight sweaterdress he wanted to rip off her and fuck-me boots he wanted to leave on. He hadn’t been surprised when she’d backed out of meeting his father. It wasn’t exactly the most alluring offer. Hey, come meet my dad who may or may not remember who I am. But they’d connected. He’d felt it as strongly then as he did now, and when she hadn’t taken him up on getting together for lunch yesterday, it had only made him more determined to change her mind.

  He strode toward her after class, drinking in her lush curves, when their gazes collided. The air sizzled and pulsed between them as the other students milled about. A blush on her cheeks deepened with his every step. Oh yeah, beautiful. You might have run scared the other night, but there’s no way you’re getting off that easy. The closer he came, the harder she breathed. He loved knowing she was as into him as he was into her.

  “How’s it going, Teach?”

  She swallowed hard, crossing and uncrossing her arms, looking even more adorably nervous than she had the other day. He wanted to take her in his arms and kiss her until she couldn’t remember why she’d been rattled in the first place.

  “I got your text,” he said, stepping closer. Not near enough for the other students to notice, but enough to make Talia’s eyes darken and his pulse spike. It had been so long since he’d felt that way, he welcomed the strange fluttering sensation in his chest. “You said you had something for me? I’m hoping it’s something you can’t give me here.”

  “Derek.”

  The whispered warning landed loud and clear.

  He held up his hands, unable to stop teasing. “Hey, I just figured I overstepped my bounds Wednesday night and you might want me to stand in front of your car so you could aim better this time.”

  That earned a smile. One he wanted to see a hell of a lot more of. “I could pin a target on my chest.” He ran his hand over his chest.

  “Stop!” She touched his arm and then quickly withdrew, her gaze darting around them.

  He didn’t want to make her uncomfortable around her students, so he said, “Feel like getting out from under the microscope and going for a walk?”

  “Um . . .” She lowered her gaze, her face turning serious.

  He held up her coat, and her face blanched. Her pretty eyes darted around them again.

  “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking.” He handed her the coat.

  “No. It’s sweet of you. I’m just . . . I can’t . . . Let’s take a walk and talk.”

  It was freezing outside, and Derek struggled to keep from pulling Talia closer as she shivered beside him. “Listen, Talia, about the other night. I know it was a weird offer to come and hang out at the house while my dad was having a hard time.”

  “No. It wasn’t weird. It was nice, and I wanted to go, but . . .”

  The sincerity in her eyes told him she was being honest. When she didn’t elaborate, he said, “I’m meeting some friends for a potluck dinner tonight. We try to get together every week or two, nothing too crazy. I’d love it if you’d come with me.”

  She stopped walking and huffed out a breath. “Derek, I really like you, and I had a great time the other night, but I can’t go out with you. I’m your teacher.”

  “Yeah, about that . . .” He looked out at the parking lot, pushed the hair from his eyes, and met her gaze again, feeling a little like he’d been caught skipping school. “You’re not really my teacher.”

  “Well, substitute, but still. As far as the school’s concerned, it’s called being in a power position,” she explained.

  He mentally ran through about a dozen positions of power in which he’d like to be tangled up with her. She must have read his dirty thoughts, because she said, “Not that type of power position,” in a hushed and shocked tone. “Geez! What is wrong with everyone today? They have sex on the brain.”

  He laughed. Then he realized what she’d said, and a spark of jealousy silenced his laughter. “Wait. Do you have students propositioning you?”

  “No. My sisters are just wicked, that’s all.”

  He breathed a sigh of relief. “Wicked can be fun,” he said, earning an eye roll and another sexy blush. “You’re pretty good at holding your ground, so unless there’s a student pushing you past your comfort zone . . .”

  “Well, there is this one student . . .”

  “Good-looking long-haired guy? Likes to hang out around your car bumper?”

  “I see you know him?” She poi
nted to her car. “I actually have something for you in my car.”

  “I don’t know, Teach. Is this like when adults offer kids candy to take a ride in their van? I’m smart. You’ve got to show me the candy first.”

  She grabbed his arm and dragged him toward her car. “Shut up before I change my mind and keep it all for myself.”

  “I do like it when you’re bossy and handsy.”

  She dropped his arm.

  “Listen, Talia, you misunderstood what I meant before. I’m not registered for that class.”

  “What do you mean?” She dug her keys from her purse. “You’re in it.”

  “I mean, I was walking by the other day and heard your voice. I peeked into the room, saw you teaching, and I was . . .” He shrugged. “I was taken by you, so I sat down to listen. The material was incredibly interesting, but I’d be lying if I said that was the only reason I came back for the next class and the next.”

  She blinked several times. “So . . . ?”

  “I’m sorry. I should have told you sooner, but when we had coffee I wasn’t thinking about that, and honestly, it was the most fun I’d had in a long time. I don’t often have a chance to meet interesting, beautiful women.”

  “You work at a bar. You take your clothes off and dance at a bar. You must meet women all the time,” she said sharply.

  “That’s really bugging you, isn’t it?”

  She didn’t answer, but she held his gaze.

  “Like I said, it’s what I do and what I will continue to do for as long as I have to. And yes, I meet plenty of women. But they’re not interesting, and many are less than stable or looking for a quick fuck, not exactly the kind of women I’d want to spend time with. I’m not a typical twenty-nine-year-old bachelor who’s out partying on the weekends or looking to get laid. I’ve got the weight of the world on my shoulders, and sometimes it feels like I’m climbing toward fifty instead of thirty. I was going to tell you about not being registered for the class the other night, but Maria called before I could. And I thought I’d tell you when you came over. But then . . .”

  “I blew you off,” she said softly. “I didn’t want to, but I didn’t trust myself, and I thought you were my student. And yes, I am wrestling with your dancing, which is totally unfair. It’s my own hang-up. But I’ve never been in this position before where I really liked someone and had to deal with anything like this.”

  “Funny, I think most women would have a harder time with the fact that I can’t just go out whenever I want to, or that my father’s illness means my life will revolve around him, more than around them, for a very long time.”

  “I told you I have trust issues,” she said confidently. Impressively. “But I’m not so insecure that I need your full-time attention. I understand what you’re going through.”

  “And I wouldn’t be pursuing you if I thought I’d cause them to worsen. I know myself. You just have to be willing to give yourself a chance to get to know me better.”

  She sighed, confusion rising in her eyes. “Now I don’t know if I should be flattered or annoyed about the class.”

  He looked up at the sky. “Please go with flattered.” Going for levity, he waggled his brows and said, “Maybe you should thank me. Now you don’t have to trust yourself.”

  Her cheeks pinked up, but her eyes heated again. How did she manage to look so sexy and innocent at once?

  “Nobody’s ever done anything like that for me before, so this might seem weird, but I have to ask. Have you done something like this before? Pretended to be involved in something to get a woman’s attention?”

  “Hell no. I was as shocked as you are. But I’m thinking about registering for the class anyway, because I’m pretty sure it’s not fair for me to enjoy it so much without paying for it.”

  “Do you need the credit?”

  He shook his head. “I’m finishing my last class for my master’s in health administration.”

  “Wow, did I ever have you pegged wrong. It’s too late to register for the class, but you can still come and enjoy it. Besides, Fletch and I have different teaching styles. You might enjoy it more—or less—when he teaches it.” She opened her car door and handed him a box from Sweetie Pie Bakery. “My sister Willow, the baker, sent these for you.”

  As he took the box, he placed his fingers over hers. “Does this mean you’re going with flattery and you’ll come with me tonight?”

  She inhaled deeply and nodded. “I am flattered, and I guess kind of relieved, too. I’d love to go with you, but if it’s potluck, you don’t want me cooking. I pretty much suck at it, but I can ask Willow to make dessert and bring that.”

  “Awesome. There’s a Mediterranean theme. I’m sure Willow knows a dozen desserts that will work, and if not, bring anything. Or nothing. It doesn’t matter. I’m just glad you’ll be there.” He nearly hauled her in for a kiss, but stopped himself. “I’m not sure why your sister is sending me treats, but let’s see what Willow has brought to the table.” He opened the box, and his mouth watered at the sight of creamy cannoli, doughnuts, and other pastries.

  “Since you came clean, I think I should, too,” Talia said sweetly. “She gave those to you as a way to get me to see you again.”

  “Seriously? You weren’t going to? And here I thought we had a connection.”

  “We did! That’s the problem. I probably wouldn’t have seen you again, at least until Fletch took over his class. What can I say? I’m a rule follower.”

  “You’re freaking adorable is what you are. With my father’s current state, I’m used to living by rules, and I have a great deal of respect for those who can adhere to them.” He held up the box. “Do you want one?”

  “No, thanks. I ate three doughnuts this morning in an attempt to substitute sugar for sex.” Her eyes widened, and she slapped her hand over her mouth. “I can’t believe I said that!”

  He laughed, closed the distance between them, and placed his hand on her hip, because he couldn’t stand not touching her for a minute longer. “For what it’s worth, been there, done that. But my substitute of choice is a hard workout. Since I can’t exactly go for a run at the moment, I think we can both use a cannoli.” He opened the box and handed her one. “Just don’t eat it around me.”

  “Why?”

  “Your sexy mouth on that?” He shook his head. “No workout could ever erase that image.”

  CHAPTER SIX

  DEREK BUTTONED HIS white linen shirt, put on his beige vest, and grabbed his gray tweed sport coat on the way out of his bedroom. He tugged it on as he went to say good night to his father. There was a time when Jonah Grant had seemed larger-than-life. Whether he was playing his guitar, cooking, or helping Derek with homework, he’d had an authoritative presence about him. Upbeat yet stern. As Derek breezed into the living room, he took in his father’s scruffy cheeks—Jonah had developed a hatred for shaving lately—and the blue baseball cap that had become part of his daily attire. The disease had claimed so much of him that he often thought he was a young man again. Derek was hit with a familiar wave of conflicting emotions. He considered every day he had with his father a blessing, even though some days were beyond difficult to get through.

  He crouched beside his chair, covering his father’s hand with his own. “Pop?” He waited for his father to look over. “I’ll be home later, okay? It’s potluck night with my friends. Sunday you and I will go to the museum.”

  His father’s blue eyes drifted down Derek’s chest. “You look nice, Archie.”

  Derek’s heart sank.

  Maria looked up from where she was reading on the couch with an empathetic expression on her face. She knew the feeling of holding her breath to see which man they were speaking to—the lucid father, the disoriented patient, or the guy who had jumped back in time, suddenly fifteen or twenty years old again.

  “Thanks, Pop.” It’s me, Derek, your son. Stifling the futile reminder had become as rote as checking his father’s meds and adhering to a daily sche
dule. His father’s lucid moments came and went. Derek had long ago accepted that part of the unfair disease. It was the mention of his father’s brother, Archie, that bothered him most. Archie and his father had been close as kids, but Archie was an artist and lived overseas. He had been adopted and hadn’t inherited the genes for this awful disease, which Derek was grateful for. But he wished his uncle lived closer, as he visited only once a year. Early-onset Alzheimer’s progressed quicker than other forms of the disease, and the more his father disappeared, the more it hurt knowing he probably had only a handful of visits left with his brother.

  “I haven’t seen you wear those pants for a while,” Maria said with a twinkle of delight in her eyes. “It must be a very special potluck dinner. I should iron those for you, mijo. Oy, and that shirt, too. You’re rumpled. Your mama would shake her head at you.”

  “No time.” Derek had filled in for half of a coworker’s shift at the bar this afternoon and had barely had time to shower and dress after getting home. He patted his father’s hand, kissed his cheek, and whispered, “Love you.”

  Maria pointed to her cheek, and Derek pressed a kiss to it. “Thanks again for staying later tonight. I’m not sure how long we’ll be, but I’m only a phone call away. We’re going to India’s.”

  “Take your time. I’ll sleep in the guest room if you’re too late. We’re having a good night so far.” Derek often had to work until past midnight, and on those nights Maria sometimes stayed in the guest room. “You go, have fun. I’ll call if we need you.”

  Derek grabbed the cooler with the dish he’d prepared, and twenty minutes later he stood at Talia’s front door, trying to calm his nerves. He was used to stepping outside his comfort zone. Hell, the past few years had kicked him in the ass. There was nothing comfortable about dancing at the bar, watching his father deteriorate before his eyes, relying on Maria as a son should never have to, and giving up most of his autonomy. But picking up Talia for their first date brought a new feeling. Where his father’s illness sometimes made him feel weak for not being able to protect him, picking up Talia brought a rush of adrenaline, of strength and vitality, topped off with red-hot desire.