A Taste of Sugar

by Marina Adair

  Muscles and more muscles. All bunched and coiled, tightening under her palms like they were about to snap—telling a very different story than the languid We’ve got all night, darlin’ kisses he was giving. She was open to all night, she was even open to the three weeks. What she wasn’t open to was him pulling back.

  Which he did. The silly man gave her one more mind-blowing kiss, then stepped back.

  “What are you doing?” she asked in a harsh breath.

  He was breathing a little heavily, too, and his eyes were hot and zeroed in on her mouth as he spoke. “Dropping it back into first.”

  “What if I like overdrive?” she said, and then took his mouth again because after that kiss, after her night, first gear didn’t work for her.

  Jace sighed, actually it was more of a moan, and then rested his forehead against hers. “I promised that tonight was about helping you out. I want to stick to that promise.”

  “What if I need more help?” She grabbed his belt loops and yanked him close. “This kind of help.”

  “This kind of help hasn’t lasted well for us,” he explained, and she could hear the steel determination in his voice.

  “Why do you get to make all the rules?”

  “Because you only gave me three weeks. So as long as my boots are under your couch instead of the bed, kissing is all we’re doing,” he said, then with a quick kiss he headed toward the family room. “ ’Night, Charlie.”

  Charlotte mumbled that bad word again, only this time it didn’t make her feel better. So she dug into the carton of ice cream and decided it was a gallon kind of night.

  * * *

  Monday morning, Charlotte was up and out of the house and walking into work before the sun crested the hills—or before Jace graced the house in his altogether. Charlotte knew that, like his military career, Jace preferred to go commando.

  As often as possible.

  Not the worst way to start the morning, she thought, remembering how his muscles felt rippling under her palms. But she was facing off with Darleen later today and needed to be as focused and collected as possible. Getting sucked into Jace’s sexy bad-boy vortex wouldn’t be a smart move. And Charlotte was smart. Courageous. Ready to fix her world.

  The first crucial decision of the morning came down to an old-fashioned or a jelly-filled with pink sprinkles. Both lovely candidates. The first, her reliable go-to morning goodie choice, and the latter a risky surprise that could either be mouthwatering or a major disappointment. Charlotte knew this was an important decision, one she took her time with—while nibbling on a doughnut hole. Then another.

  When she was positive that choosing between them would be impossible and unfair, she reached for a napkin.

  “You know you want both.”

  Charlotte froze as that husky, trouble-filled voice slid over her. God, she loved that voice. Four years and her body still quivered every time she heard it. She’d hoped that annoying tic would have passed by now, but it only seemed to have become more acute with time.

  She let out a deep breath, braced herself for impact, and turned around. Her affliction was worse than she’d originally thought, because Jace got better looking every time she saw him. Not only was he filling the doorway to the lunch room and giving off enough sexy man vibes to have her heart melting, but the man could fill out a pair of jeans like nobody’s business. His dark hair was a little damp at the ends and crammed in a ball cap, scruff covered his jaw, and he was wearing a wrinkly black T-shirt that clung to his chest with a hint of perspiration. She would have thought that he’d run all the way here, except his breathing was sure and steady.

  His smile, she couldn’t help but notice, was twitching with amusement.

  “I just need one.” Who needed two doughnuts to start their day?

  His amused gaze held hers. “But you want both.”

  She so did. “Two would make my butt too big.”

  “Not possible,” he assured her in a tone that was so full of male appreciation it sent vibrations skittering though her body. “But to be safe, we can do a before-and-after inspection. A very hands-on experiment.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Although her body said it was as necessary as breathing.

  “If you change your mind, let me know. I’ve been told I have very efficient hands.”

  Which he’d ruthlessly used on her last night, only to get her all hot and bothered before handing her off to a gallon of ice cream. She put the jelly-filled back and grabbed the old-fashioned before setting it on the small breakfast table. She didn’t sit, hoping he’d get the hint.

  He didn’t, instead leisurely sipping from one of the to-go cups in his hand.

  “What are you doing here?”

  “Morning ritual. Number five on the list.” He handed her the other to-go cup. A warm, intoxicating blast of cool mint and steaming coffee teased her nose. “I heard you tear out of the driveway, so I hopped out of bed and decided to bring the caffeine to you.”

  Which explained the sleep-mussed hair and soft eyes. “Thank you. But I actually have to get to work, I have a full caseload today.” She waved to the files awaiting her on the table.

  “I can see that.” Although his eyes were too busy staring at her mouth to even notice the stack of files. A small spark ignited under his intense gaze, heated until she felt her body vibrate as he slowly met her eyes. “Was it always like this?”

  Charlotte wanted to pretend that she had no idea what he was talking about, but she couldn’t ignore the pull. Because no, it had never been like this. Ever. When they’d married it had been the kind of heat that burned too hot and fast to sustain. But this time, she felt a slow simmer in her chest that was far more dangerous to her well-being.

  “You should go,” she said, hating how throaty she sounded. Hating that every time he came around she forgot her plan, forgot what she had worked so hard to create. Because every time he looked at her with those deep blue pools she remembered what it felt like to truly live.

  “I will,” he said, placing his cup on the table. “But before I do, number one on the list.”

  Jace took a step closer, close enough that she could smell the crisp morning on his skin. Close enough that delicious, bone-melting desire slid through her, which is when she discovered several things.

  The first being that she didn’t want him to go. Charlotte wanted him to pull up a chair and share his morning coffee with her, as though they did this every day. Even more unsettling, if Jace did go, she wanted to go with him. Which led to the last, and completely unacceptable, realization. She wanted to find out what number one on the list was. She wanted it more than her peppermint latte, more than a maple bar. She wanted it more than she wanted her next breath.

  Not that she had time to take that breath, because Jace, good to his word, lowered his head and showed her exactly what he’d come there for. And work was the last thing on her mind. Not while his mouth gently worked hers as though he’d also been fantasizing about this all morning.

  He teased the seam of her lips, and she gave a breathy little moan that would have been embarrassing had she not been distracted by the way his chest muscles felt under her exploring hands, how they moved and tensed as she ran her palm down to his flat stomach.

  “Kissing is number one?” she breathed against his mouth when he pulled back.

  “No, daily kisses is number two, listening to your partner’s needs is number four. And the way you were staring at my mouth stated loud and clear you needed some loving, but since we’re at your work I settled on a kiss.”

  “You’re reading too much into this.” His eyes dropped to her fingers, which were fiddling with the button of his jeans. She snatched them back.

  “I don’t think so,” he said, nipping her lower lip, and yeah, she needed some loving all right. “And this,” he breathed against her lips and her body went up in flames. “This is number one.”

  It happened so fast, Charlotte barely saw it coming. One moment they were hot a
nd heavy, throwing gasoline on fire, the next his big arms were around her, pulling her toward him. Into him really, until she was engulfed in the safest place she’d ever been.

  Because Jace might be a master kisser, but his hugs could change the world. Of that she was certain.

  “I better let you get back to saving mankind,” he said. With a final brush of the lips, he walked over to the counter and grabbed the jelly-filled and set it on her napkin. “Sometimes what you want is also what you need. Enjoy, Charlie.”

  Charlotte watched him walk away and had one last realization. Not only had Jace ruined other men for her, now he’d gone and ruined doughnuts, too. Because all she could think about was that hug.

  Wrapping up the doughnuts for later, after the contact high wore off, she went to her office to handle some follow-up emails, then headed down the hall to see her first patient of the day. Scotty Clay, a nine-year-old who had a habit of liberating his “light saber” in public places. According to his chart, today he had freed Willie near the local junkyard to relieve himself—on an electric fence.

  Glory looked up from the nurses’ station as Charlotte approached. “Hey. Don’t you have a Peaches meeting?”

  “Not until noon.”

  “Then why did I see Darleen leading the Peaches toward the boardroom?”

  A bad feeling crept over Charlotte. She had moved today’s meeting from town hall to the clinic so that she would be able to make the meeting between patients. Darleen knew this, knew that if the meeting was held at a different time then Charlotte wouldn’t be able to make it. Wouldn’t be able to vote and, worse, present her case. Damn! “When was this?”

  “About ten minutes ago.”

  Charlotte looked at the file in her hand, then at the waiting room. “Is Ben in yet?”

  Glory shook her head. “He’s working the late shift.” She paused. “Your dad is the rotating physician for family practice today.” Double damn! “Want me to call him?”

  Charlotte sighed. They both knew what her father would say if Charlotte asked him to cover for her to take care of a Peaches meeting. Then again, it was because of her father that she was in this mess to begin with. “Yeah, tell him Clay Scott is waiting in exam room four and I will be back in an hour.”

  “Do I tell him why?”

  “No.” Charlotte headed toward the boardroom, then turned back around. “Only if he asks.”

  “He’s going to ask, which means I’ll be the messenger,” Glory explained, not looking happy about it. “The last messenger was sentenced to a week in podiatry with Lionel. The one before that was fired.”

  “You won’t get fired,” Charlotte promised, thinking that the first girl actually got off easier. “Just tell him I am handling something for the Mercy Alliance project. Oh, and can you upload the Reasons to Pick Sugar Medical PowerPoint on my laptop to the center’s so I can pull it up in the boardroom?”

  The twenty bullet-point reasons she’d compiled in an effort to sway the board, while polishing off the gallon of ice cream last night.

  “So you want me to upload personal stuff on the company cloud and lie to your dad?” Glory laughed. “You so owe me.”

  “Saturday night. Drinks on me,” Charlotte promised, and tried to hand off the folder.

  Glory didn’t take it, instead crossing her arms. “Oh, I don’t want drinks, Doctor. I want details. All of them. Like where Jace was last night.”

  “He was at home.” Not a lie.

  “His truck was at Cal’s, but when I left for work this morning I noticed he wasn’t there.”

  Great. Charlotte had been hoping that no one would notice Jace wasn’t in the guest room. Then again, this was Sugar. Secrets were harder to keep than a pot full of gold.

  “Did anyone else notice?”

  “Not yet. And I can help you keep it that way if you let me know what’s going on.”

  “Fine. But you’re buying the drinks then.” Charlotte tossed the file on the nurses’ station and quickly made her way to the elevator. She took it to the top floor. The conference room sat at the corner of the building, offering a beautiful view of the town of Sugar. When she stepped inside, twenty sets of eyes turned to focus on her—including a pair of wide, surprised, I am so caught eyes.

  Charlotte smiled. Darleen stood at the head of the table, Golden Peach in hand, presentation board propped up behind her, and frowned.

  “Sorry I am late,” Charlotte said, making her way to the front. Eyes on Darleen, she sweetly asked, “Or is it that you’re all early?” She held her hand out for the Golden Peach. “Thanks for covering for me until I could get away.”

  “No problem.” Darleen handed over the Peach—and the meeting—with a sweet smile. “I was just getting started on the agenda.”

  Charlotte looked at the poster board facing the room, which showed a Photoshopped image of Bluebell Hall looking ready to host a ball, at the half-dozen poster boards stacked behind it, then down at the agenda on the table. It listed the order of business, and not surprisingly the only two items up for discussion were the parade route, conveniently mapping out a route that ended on Maple Street, and the recipient for the funds raised. “Item one under suggestions. Bluebell Hall. I wasn’t aware that Bluebell was an official candidate.”

  Darleen looked out at the group—and they were all looking back, rapt by the drama that was about to unfold. She cleared her throat. “Well, it was mentioned at the board meeting, so I assumed it would go on the agenda.”

  “We all know what assuming can make you,” Hattie said from the table. “And I thought we were here to talk about the new parade route, not changing the recipients this late in the game.”

  “If we have time to consider altering the parade and fair location, then I don’t see why we wouldn’t be able to reconsider who benefits from this year’s profits,” Darleen said in a sugary voice.

  “The girl is right,” Mable, the oldest and most respected Peach in the room, said. She was also the senior adviser to the board, so her opinion was golden. “My suggestion is to allow Miss Charlotte to explain to us how moving the parade will benefit the town, then let’s allow Ms. Darleen to propose why Bluebell Hall is a viable project.”

  “I think that’s fair.” Darleen beamed. “And since you are the current regent, I’ll let you go first.” She handed over the laser pointer and took her seat, several gasps and whispers rising in her wake.

  Charlotte felt her forehead start to glisten. Darleen would pop a grandma’s wheelchair tire if it meant getting one space closer in line. The only reason she would let someone else go first, especially Charlotte, was if she thought she’d already won the argument. The woman had an ace up her cashmere-capped sleeve, and that made Charlotte nervous.

  “The girl acts like she’s the only angel in God’s choir,” Hattie murmured loud enough to be heard in the ER. “She’s already done finished her presentation.”

  Which meant the women had been successfully seduced by tales of ceiling-to-floor leaded windows, inlaid mahogany floors, and a sapphire-colored glass dome. Charlotte could feel the titillating energy in the air, see the twinkling promise of eternal glory residing behind each and every bifocal. Making her job that much harder.

  The PowerPoint flickered on, a photo of a little girl in a wheelchair smiling from inside the Grow Clinic lit the screen, and Charlotte stopped being nervous. Stopped caring about Bluebell Hall and her dad’s flub-up and remembered what Jace said. That if she led with her heart she couldn’t go wrong. And suddenly this wasn’t about her versus Darleen, it was about the town and the clinic. And helping families.

  “I have wonderful news, so I would love to.” Charlotte used the laptop on the conference table and clicked to the next screen. A map appeared. “Now, if you’ll look at the proposed route I have outlined here, you’ll see that we are only looking at adding a few blocks to the historical route. The parade would take the same path our ancestors took, but it would continue on until the Medical Center.”

 
; “What are those fancy cars there for?” Mable asked.

  “I am so glad you asked.” Because Darleen might be hiding an ace, but Charlotte had a Jace. And suddenly she didn’t feel so alone. “Jace McGraw knows a classic car collector in Atlanta who is willing to loan us his collection for the parade. It will allow our board members to ride in the parade without the hay problem, and attract more out-of-towners by having the rare cars on display. More tourists mean more money.”

  “My pa used to drive one of those,” MeMaw Wilkes said, pointing to the Model T Charlotte had added to the map. “We used to ride in it during the parade.”

  “There’s a total of nine additional cars so far, so the only concession is that the route be extended to allow room. Plus, ending the parade at the Center’s parking lot will ensure that the cars don’t get scratched or dented and can remain on display.”

  “But the fair has always been on Maple Street,” Summer said, looking to Darleen who was giving her a sly thumbs-up. “If we move it, all of the foot traffic the shops count on will move, too.”

  “I thought about that,” Charlotte said, clicking to the next slide. “Which is why I propose that we offer every shop owner on Maple a free tent at the fair, a place where they can sell their wares and interact with the community.”

  “It would take care of that awful traffic jam,” Mable said, and a few of the older members nodded. “Last year I couldn’t even get into the shops because there were so many people and tents on the sidewalk.”

  “It also takes into consideration how our community is thriving,” Charlotte said, running a red beam to the additional space. “The first Founder’s Day Fair had seven families. Last year over three hundred local businesses and families participated, and an additional two thousand people came out for the fair. This day is to honor the people of Sugar, all of the people of Sugar, and Maple Street isn’t big enough for our growing town.”