Sugar and Gold

by Brea Viragh

  “Glad to see this mess with the Health Department hasn’t taken away your sense of humor.” Trent grinned sweetly. “You really don’t want to go out with me and a couple of the boys tonight?”

  Reluctant amusement kept me from declining the way I wanted to. Immediately. Adamantly. “You know I can’t accept on the spur of the moment. I have plans.”

  “And plans are made to be broken. Or are you still punishing me for the time I asked you to marry me?” It was his standing joke. Anytime I refused an offer, he went straight back to that.

  I chuckled politely, the memory popping up at his reminder. Poor Trent down on one knee in his daddy’s best suit and tie. Me, newly minted twenty, filled to bursting with big dreams. None of them included a husband. “It may have something to do with the proposal, sure. We were different people walking the same path but I was unwilling to veer off when you did.”

  With a look over my shoulder, I sailed through the swinging doors into the prep area. His footsteps echoed behind me.

  “We were always better as friends anyway, Trent,” I continued.

  “Aw, Es, you made me a man when you broke my heart. Too bad it didn’t work out. We could have had fun. Fancy another try at it?” he asked, rubbing a hand over his chest.

  Every county had a man like Trent, the only child of an ex-high-ranking official, whose smile and social standing assured they got away with murder. Or in Trent’s case, possession of drugs and drug-making paraphernalia. Unlike Trent, I would have been tried had the authorities found me at the scene. Thanks to Isaac, I had managed to get out the back door and into the woods with no one the wiser.

  “I don’t think so,” I answered, angling my head. “You have a wonderful girlfriend.”

  “Missy isn’t the point. I’m talking about you and me.”

  Another grin, this one an attempt to put me at ease and remind me of our times together in the past. I felt a hint of nostalgia when the corners of his lips lifted to almost meet his cheekbones. Charisma was etched into the lines fanning around his mouth.

  I’d been the one to the end the relationship, the same way I’d been the one to start it. On my terms, and for very different reasons. There are some people in this world who are incompatible despite a relatively good sexual chemistry. Even if Trent was being serious, which I doubted, there was no desire to dip my toe in that pool again.

  “The only you and me existing outside this room is our friendship.” I wiped down the mixer in rhythmic circles. “You’d better stop teasing me. One day someone might think you’re being serious.”

  He shot me a casual half shrug. “Maybe I didn’t like the way Howard was talking to you at the party. It stirred some unwanted feelings, and there are a few thoughts I want to get out of my brain and into the open. Like you said, Es. Nothing serious. Just some things I’d like to say.”

  “Sounds like an issue you’d be better dealing with on your own,” I joked. “I don’t see why a man like Isaac would bother you.”

  The slap of his hand on the stainless steel mixing bowl sent a shiver shooting to my feet. “It’s not Isaac, although he’s scum. It’s you never wanting to change your plans for me.”

  “Scum?” The way he said the word had my spine straightening and the fine hairs on my neck standing to attention. “He isn’t scum, number one. And number two, it’s none of your business who I spend my time with. Or whether I make or break my plans. If I wanted your opinion, which I don’t, then I’d ask for it.”

  The Southern in me came out when I laid down the law. The fine, softly drawn out syllables taking on a harsher quality. I may have started off as a belle, but I ended somewhere in rebel territory.

  A demon could take lessons from Trent, I decided. The strands of chestnut hair tangled enticingly around his face, the straight white teeth and megawatt smile. The certainty that I would do what he wanted eventually. I cursed him for his good looks. They’d gotten me into this trouble in the first place.

  “Isaac’s a criminal. Remember?”

  “You seem to have forgotten the role you played as well,” I replied, knowing I skirted a fine edge between safety and disaster. “Maybe we’d all do better to remember how it really went down.”

  “I know what happened, just as I know what’s happened in the three years since he was put behind bars,” Trent answered cryptically.

  I bristled against his insinuation. “We’re adults now. That was a long time ago.”

  “Some of us have grown up. And others still have a long way to go.” Trent tipped two fingers to his forehead, and with a curt salute, pushed his way out the back door.

  I LOCKED THE SHOP HOURS later, after the sun had completed its race across the sky. The dishes were scrubbed and put away, inventory completed, and the books balanced despite the blur in my eyes running the numbers together. Stars twinkled and I glanced at my wristwatch with wide eyes, realizing the late time.

  “Eleven o’clock? Holy shit!” My voice echoed along the mostly empty street. The night owls were gathered a block over at the County Corner General Store, while the smartest of them made their way to bed post haste. The single stoplight in downtown Heartwood blinked from green to yellow to red without a single car to heed the warnings. I caught the echoing strains of raucous laughter from the evening’s earlier festivities. There wasn’t much action in the country. Folks learned to get it where they could, whether it came from dancing or drinking or...other things.

  Wind whistled through the ornamental trees lining the sidewalk, and somewhere in the distance, nocturnal creatures seductively lured their prey. The image sent a chill down my spine while I hurried toward my parking spot. The breath rushed from my lungs when a body collided with mine, the warm press of muscles pushing me against the building.

  “Hello again, Essie.”

  The hot stink of Trent’s breath assaulted my senses and I turned away, wincing. “Trent. You’ve been drinking.”

  “What I do is none of your goddamned concern.” He leaned closer, sniffing lightly at my hair. My stomach bottomed out and, against all good judgment, I trembled. “You told me that same thing earlier.”

  “What do you want?” I asked, willing my voice to stay strong. “Where are your friends?”

  “What do you think I want? I came to talk, babe. Now is as good a time as any. As for my so-called friends, they all left me, those assholes. Left me to go home to their wives and girlfriends. I stayed to talk. To you.”

  “For some reason, I can’t see talking being part of your agenda.”

  “My agenda?” His mood snapped and at once I was looking at over two hundred pounds of pissed-off male. “What the fuck does that mean?”

  “Nothing. I was saying...” I trailed off. What was I saying? “How about you let me help you into the car and I can drive you home. Missy will be worried.”

  “I’m not going home. I came out for a little fun. You know what I mean?”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “And who are you, the alcohol police? You have no clue how to let loose.” He jammed a bottle under my nose. “Here, have a sip.”

  I shook my head, pushing the liquor away. “I’m fine, thank you.”

  “Loosen up a little.” He sidled closer. “Maybe I can get you to have a good time, for once.”

  “I have a good time more often than not, without booze. Now please, back off.”

  “Let’s get those panties on the ground, baby. You remember how it goes, don’t you?”

  “Back off.” I gave his chest a solid shove. “Back off, Trent.”

  “Come on.” His hips began to piston toward me.

  I shook my head, stomach flipping. “I said no.”

  “Live a little. Don’t you like me anymore? Or are you getting it on with someone else?” His expression darkened, became thunderous. “Fucking Howard.”

  “You really want to rehash that? Leave it alone and get away from me.”

  “You little tramp. He gets out of jail, and all of a sudden you�
�re buddy-buddy again, huh? Like the night I invited you—” Trent staggered two steps in the opposite direction and nearly tripped over his own feet.”—I invited you and all of a sudden there’s Howard, looking like the king of the castle.”

  “You two were friends.” I spoke through clenched teeth. “I didn’t think it was a problem.”

  There was no reasoning with a drunkard. “It wasn’t. He was there to solve all my problems.”

  I shook my head. “I don’t follow you.”

  Trent was next to me before I realized it, patting my cheek. The strength of the motion had me toppling into the wall and wincing from the impact. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about things you don’t understand. Just stay away from Howard. You got me?”

  “No, I don’t got you. Now take your grimy hands off of me. Go home to your girlfriend.”

  “I’m not ready to go home yet. Seeing him here in Heartwood again... Man. Seeing him here takes me back. All those memories.” He leaned forward, breath hot on my skin, fingers reaching out to trail along my shoulder.

  “Don’t touch me,” I demanded.

  “Aw, Essie, would you really turn me away from those sweet thighs? I remember how they feel, how they felt the first time you gave yourself to me. You wrapped your legs around my waist while I pumped and pumped—”

  I wrenched away, ducking under his arm and fleeing into the street.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  My sneakers pounded the pavement. The repetitive beat of my heart matched the tempo of my feet. I ran until my lungs labored to draw in a single breath and tears clogged my vision. Getting away from Trent became my number one priority even when I lost sight of the town lights.

  Soon the howl of his drunken amusement faded from my ears, replaced by the frantic push-pull of my lungs. Still I continued, until the stitch in my side forced me to a halt.

  I knew it was stupid to run away from safety, yet the small, close-to-breaking voice in my head urged me to go. And go fast. Every sound was another crack of a bullet, another threat to outrun. I wasn’t surprised when a truck came up beside me, although I contemplated jumping in the bushes just to be sure—

  “Sugar?”

  The familiar timbre of the voice brought a wave of relief crashing down. I happily accepted the emotion and let myself drown in it. “Isaac,” I gasped. My feet continued on of their own accord.

  “What the hell are you doing out here?” He slapped the radio dead and followed me at a snail’s pace. His forearm peeked out from the open window, followed by a flash of hair and a dark scowl. That hazel gaze pushed down on me as though he heard every scattered thought in my brain.

  I gulped in cool night air, willing it to soothe my writhing insides. “I could ask you the same thing. At least I have a damn good reason. I almost became a statistic, and I don’t like it.”

  “I don’t know what you mean. You weren’t home and I was getting worried. Had to come out to find you. Please get in the truck so we can talk. I’ll drive you home.”

  “I haven’t heard from you in days. Why now? How did you find me?”

  “Stop worrying about me,” he called out the window. “You’re out here for a midnight run on the side of the road...? There are clearly other things to worry about.”

  The hysterical laugh would have warned a saner man to stay away. Isaac simply kept his foot light on the gas pedal and followed close to me.

  The sidewalk ended before long, giving way to a strip of suburban paradise. Houses stacked neatly side by side, with well-tended lawns and the proverbial white picket fences. At the end of the road, wilderness beckoned and I would be out of luck.

  “I’m fine on my own. I don’t need a man to help me like I’m some kind of damsel. Distressed or otherwise.” Enough testosterone in the air to choke a water buffalo! I shivered, rubbing my hands along my arms against the bone-deep chill. Impatient with myself, I kept walking.

  Isaac let out an exasperated snort. “Will you get in? You’re walking along the road alone, for God’s sake!” He leaned further out the window, his elbow resting on the metal. “What happened to not keeping anything from each other? You’re inviting another attack, and this time it would be easy for the damn SUV to smack you like a deer, with no one the wiser.”

  I kept my nose in the air and my feet walking a straight line. “No. I am done with men right now. I don’t want your help, nor do I need any assistance. I’ll find my way home without you.”

  “There are animals in the woods and creepers peeping through the branches.” Isaac tapped the brakes and pulled the truck to a halt on the side of the road.

  “No!” I didn’t want him to get out of the vehicle. Him standing in front of me meant confrontation, one I would most likely engage in whether I was willing or not. Words bubbled up but I forced them down, keeping each keening emotion on a tight leash. If I let them out now, they’d chew their way through anyone and everything.

  Isaac trotted forward, coming to a halt a few feet in front of me, hands going to his hips. “You’re out of your damned mind. Do you have a death wish?”

  “Maybe I do,” I answered. “Either way, it’s none of your business.”

  Instead of taking the skittering nerves in stride, agreeing to his offer and the relative safety of the truck cab, I kept walking. A few more steps and I could outrun him, if push came to shove. I highly doubted his leg muscles were developed as well as mine. Not after three years in prison.

  “You’re running on the side of the road begging to get hit and it’s none of my business? Es!”

  I caught the echo of a groan before he came forward again. The hand on my shoulder was unexpected. Men. They didn’t know when to listen.

  “Leave me alone, Isaac.” I whirled on him, a pointed finger my defense. “Can’t you understand? I don’t want to talk. Leave me alone for five minutes, for poop’s sake!”

  “You’re clearly crazy! What the hell happened to get you so bent out of shape?”

  “No, you don’t have a right to be angry right now. If anyone should be angry, it’s me, and I took care of business myself. Trent knows where I stand.”

  “Trent? You’re upset because of that dingleberry? From what I saw at the party, Trent doesn’t give a fuck about your stance either way. He’s always been a selfish prick.”

  I struggled for an answer. Both relieved and irritated when I couldn’t find one.

  Isaac closed the distance between us. “Sugar, come here for a second.” He pointed to the spot in front of him.

  “No,” I insisted.

  “Stubborn.” He did as he pleased anyway, bringing me into the shelter of his embrace. A wave of exhaustion attacked the moment his arms came around my torso. At once those raging emotions left, leaving me empty.

  Stubborn I may be. However, I needed Isaac to understand. “Trent was drunk. I took care of him.” At the very least, Trent now understood I would put up a fight.

  “I’m sure you did,” Isaac agreed. “It still doesn’t mean you should walk home alone.”

  “I wasn’t thinking...”

  “Yeah, I know.”

  I rested my cheek against the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest, drawing in the scent of him. Basil, lavender, a heady combination of herbs. If left unchecked, I’d be lightheaded before I came to my senses.

  The small kiss on my crown came, went, with ease. “There, now. Come back to the truck and let me drive you home. Enough of this nonsense,” he said softly.

  Against my better judgment, I clung tight. Enjoying the feel of him pressed against my front and at once aware of our differences. The physicality of him as a man. The hardness and sinewy strength of muscle.

  “Mm-hmm.” I linked my fingers behind his back to keep him in place. The soles of my shoes fixed to the ground and I grew roots.

  He traced patterns along my lower back with his thumbs. “Don’t you want to leave?”

  “In a minute.”

  The chuckle rumbled against my skin and my heart s
kipped a beat. “What do you think you’re doing?” he asked.

  “I’m not sure,” I admitted. “Probably something stupid.”

  His breath ruffled my hair. “That’s not like you.”

  I blamed it on the moonlight, those quicksilver beams cutting through the shedding tree limbs in dancing shadows. Leaves were beginning their decline and a brisk scent peppered the air.

  “I never heard from you after—”

  He sighed. “Yes. I know.”

  I remembered a similar night, too many years ago, before I’d dropped the guillotine on his fate. Before Isaac knew nothing but bars. The two of us had stood near the rear of his parents’ property as car headlights winked by in steady procession.

  Are you sure you want to do this?

  Yes, now come on! I want to hang out, blow off some steam.

  Don’t you know what you’re getting into?

  For God’s sake, Isaac, it’s just a few people hanging out. Let’s go already.

  “I try to do the right thing.” The moment the words left my mouth, I realized, chastised, that they were insufficient. “I try but I can’t seem to make it work. I mean—”

  His dry laugh was an answer. “Just come back to the truck. Try to stop arguing with me.”

  “I like to argue,” I insisted.

  “Yes, I’m well aware.”

  I sank against him as he led us back to the vehicle. It was easy, too easy, to sink into his tenderness. The kindness I had recently begun to discover. There was a peace about him that had nothing to do with a desire to get me between the sheets. I recognized the need, yes, even tonight, and felt an answering lust rise high and hot. However, the meeting of bodies was secondary.

  I had an inkling as to how the evening would end. So different from how it began, unexpected in all the right ways. I’d fought against Isaac’s involvement for long enough. It felt good to let go.

  He opened the door and helped me slide across the worn leather.

  “Buckle up,” he demanded before starting the engine. The motor revved as he pulled back onto the macadam.