Sin and Cider (Sweet Sinners Book 1)

by Kimberly Reese

  I run my hand through my tangled mess of hair that fell out of its braid at some point last night and see a small rectangular card on the coffee table next to me. I grab the small note and rub my thumb over the heavy, textured card stock as I read.

  Hey darlin’, I had a few errands to run and couldn’t bring myself to wake you. Something must’ve tuckered you out last night. ;) It might be a little late for this but my cell number is on the back. Call or text whenever you want a repeat of last night, which was amazing. You were amazing. You ARE amazing.—Lawson

  I turn the card over in my hands and see it’s one of his business cards, his cell number scrawled neatly at the bottom under the embossing. I feel my smile widen as I clasp the card and pull it close to my chest. He can sure be sweet for someone who says he only wants something temporary. I wonder if he’s like this all the time or if, like every girl hopes at some point, this is different. I know what I signed up for, but a tiny part of me really wants this to be different. Old feelings really do die hard with this man.

  11

  Lawson

  I panicked, and like a spineless wuss, I left. I didn’t even realize that Mac and I had fallen asleep in my living room. One minute we were lying down on the couch as we came down from our memorable fuck, and the next minute, the soft scent of apples was teasing me awake. Once I woke up and realized why I wasn’t asleep in my bed, I took a good look at the woman draped across my chest. I’m not in the habit of having sleepovers with the women I fuck, even accidental ones, so I was surprised I even put myself in this position in the first place.

  Who knew that someone who looks like such an angel would be such a hot fuck? I expected our sex to be explosive, but I didn’t expect this feeling of closeness with her. It’s probably because I’ve known her for so long. That’s gotta be it. What’s more surprising is that I didn’t feel panic or the immediate need to wake her up and send her on her way. I couldn’t shake the feeling of how right it felt having her in my arms. Even in sleep she’s stunning, and I had to force myself to stop gazing at her. Her long hair curled around her body and her soft breaths feathered across my skin, creating a deep feeling of contentment in my chest.

  I couldn’t resist touching her and ran my hands gently up and down her back. My touch caused her to stretch and purr like a kitten, a sweet sigh of satisfaction finally leaving her lips before she nuzzled closer to my body. I stayed there listening to her sleep, and although I could easily wake her up for another round, I decided that I couldn’t bring myself to wake her. I could, however, remove myself from the equation and get back on familiar ground by leaving. I scrawled a note on the back of a business card for her and had to shake my head in disgust at my sweet message. What the fuck am I doing?

  A few hours have passed, and I’ve finished running the errands that could have waited until another day. I’m headed home from the gym and decide at the last minute to stop by the grocery store so I can get my meal prepping out of the way today. I may as well continue my productive streak. I pull into Starwood Grocer’s parking lot and head inside. I don’t even make it ten steps into the store with my cart before someone calls my name.

  “Lawson? Lawson Westbrook? Is that you?” I groan internally at the saccharine, high-pitched voice. I force a smile on my face as I turn toward the voice and wave.

  “Yes, Mrs. Du Bois. The one and only. I hope you’re having a great day,” I say. I fully intend to keep walking but see that she starts to make her way over to me.

  “Oh goodness, you get handsomer every time I see you,” she titters. “How’s your family doing?”

  “My family is great, thank you. How’s your family doing?” I already know where this is leading in three, two, one…

  “Oh, Della is doin’ great, thank you. I’ll tell her you asked about her,” she beams.

  I didn’t ask about her but okay, you do that lady. I stand here for what must be five minutes as she prattles on and on about her daughter. This just reinforces my decision to not date, let alone anyone in this town, because I can’t go anywhere without some overzealous mama trying to pair me up with their daughter. This town is a nightmare for any eligible bachelor. My patience finally reaches its limit so I jump on the chance to speak when she takes a breath between sentences.

  “Okay, well I’ve gotta get goin’, Mrs. Du Bois. It was nice talkin’ to you. You have a good day now, okay?”

  “Alright, dear. You take care. I know you live on your own, what with you bein’ a bachelor and all, so if you need a home-cooked meal you let me know. My Della is the best cook in town and we’d love to have you over.”

  Yeah, not happening. She seems to have forgotten that no one can outcook my sister and that I can easily visit my family at their estate. Sometimes I really hate being part of such a prominent family.

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” I say as I start to step away. “Thanks for the offer. Good day now,” I tip my head and take long strides away from her. Sweet freedom.

  I manage to do most of my shopping without interruption. I go through my mental checklist and realize I just need to grab a gallon of milk before I get out of here and head to my place. I’m on my way to the dairy section when I hear a familiar humming noise down the ice cream aisle. I turn in the direction of the sound and see Mac grabbing a small tub of the good stuff. Before I decide if I want to keep walking or at least say hi, she lifts her head and her eyes are right on me.

  I thought that some of my desire for her would burn out after we fucked and that we’d continue our fling in a casual, comfortable way. Yeah, no way in hell there’s anything casual about how my cock twitches like a metal detector that found a pot of gold when she looks at me. If anything, I want her more than before because I know what she tastes like and what she sounds like when she comes apart underneath me. I grip my shopping cart and try to get my thoughts under control because a beautiful smile spreads across her face as she heads toward me.

  “Hey you,” she says.

  “Hey yourself,” I reply.

  Neither of us say anything as we look at each other. She gives a slight shiver, and I’m not sure if it’s from the charged feeling growing between us or from the cool air in the aisle. Either way, I’m tempted to push her against one of the freezer doors and heat her up with everything I’ve got. Before I can say anything she reaches to the right of me, grabs something off of the endcap, and places it in her basket. The need for sex that is overriding my brain is momentarily distracted as I take a look at what she grabbed.

  “What is that?” I ask.

  “It’s syrup?” Her statement comes out as a question, and she’s looking at me like I’m crazy.

  “Everyone knows the best stuff is Hershey’s. Everything else is just a knockoff.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean down slightly, trying to impress upon her the importance of my words.

  “You and everyone else are wrong,” she retorts, a sparkle in her eye. “You’ve been missing out. You’ve never had Coco Shell syrup?”

  “Um, no.”

  She looks shocked and amused. “It’s the best thing ever!” Excitement fills her expression and tone as she talks about how the syrup hardens over the ice cream and creates a chocolate shell. She really is adorable, and I can feel myself hardening as I watch her animatedly describe fucking syrup. I’d really like her this animated over something else I could show her that can harden.

  I don’t even realize I’ve taken a step closer to her until she stops speaking.

  “Sorry, darlin’. I got distracted.” I can’t even lie. I stare at her lips, and she licks them nervously before she speaks.

  “It’s okay. I was sayin’ you could try it some time. You should stop by the house.” Her voice has lowered and is breathy with desire.

  I don’t have the chance to respond and tell her I’d like that very much before a familiar voice grates along my senses. Jesus. I was so caught up in Mac that I forgot where I am.

  “Why would you be going to the Layne househo
ld, Lawson?”

  I grit my teeth, take a few steps away from Mac, and turn toward Mrs. Du Bois. This woman is really trying my patience today, and it’s really none of her damn business what I do.

  “Oh hi, Mrs. Du Bois. It’s great to see you. How are you?” Mac asks politely.

  The old biddy’s attention shifts to Mac for a moment while she responds. “Just fine, dear. Now Lawson,” her eyes shift back to where I stand, “why on earth would you be goin’ to the Layne household?” This woman’s nosiness knows no bounds.

  “I was just telling him that he should come over and try—” Mac manages to get out before I smoothly interject.

  “She was just telling me I should come over and try the new wood cutter her father bought. The only reason I go over there nowadays is because I’m working on renovating the old barn, ma’am.”

  “Oh, that’s all? I thought somethin’ else was going on.” Mrs. Du Bois laughs as if the thought is absurd. What a rude woman.

  Out of the corner of my eye I see Mac bristle. She looks like she’s about to say something so I continue explaining. “Smith Layne is my best friend, ma’am. I’ve been a friend of the Layne family for a long time. Everyone knows that, especially Mac. We’re friends, too.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” she says, her voice slightly strained. “Just friends. Lawson’s just a great friend of the family. He’s doing us all a favor by helping us out.”

  I can see her smiling and feel relief wash over me. I’m so glad she gets it. The last thing I want is this town gossiping about us and thinking that I’m starting to date. That’d be awful, and the endless parade of available daughters would increase in voracity.

  “Well, good. I need to get goin’, but don’t forget what I said earlier, Lawson dear. It’d be so nice to have you over for dinner. I know Della would love to see you again,” she smiles. With those parting words Mrs. Du Bois scuttles away and leaves us alone in the aisle again.

  I turn to Mac, and she speaks once it’s obvious Mrs. Du Bois isn’t coming back. “Well, I need to get going. It was good seeing you.”

  “Yeah, you too. I’ll see you later.” She starts to scoot around me, and before she’s out of my sight I call out to her. “Hey, Mac?”

  She stops and turns, her expression curious. “Yes, Lawson?”

  “You’ve got my number now. Let me know when you’d like to pick up where we left off,” I say with a wink. I’d really like to get her out of her clothes again.

  An unreadable expression flashes across her face, but it’s gone faster than a hummingbird’s wings and is replaced with a mischievous smile. “You got it. See ya, Lawson.”

  I watch her ass as she walks away and can feel the anticipation to have her start to build again. I hope she calls soon, or I may have to take matters into my own hands.

  I try to control my breathing as I walk away from Lawson and head aimlessly in the opposite direction. I don’t know why I’m so bothered by what just happened. I’ve known from the beginning what he wants from me but didn’t think he’d fail to even acknowledge any type of intimate relationship with me in public. Even though it was awkward and sucked, I’m glad I know now so I can keep myself in check. I decide to head to the self-checkout aisle and quickly ring my items up. Our conversation comes to mind as I bag the ice cream and chocolate syrup, and I have to stop the smile from forming on my face.

  I can’t have feelings for this man, and things can’t get weird. Ever. Why does he have to be so damn sexy? His scruff looked extra delicious under the added shadow of his baseball hat, and his muscles were shown off to perfection in his gym clothes. I need to keep things physical. That is, after all, all he wants from me.

  So much for being different, a small, sad voice in my head says.

  12

  It’s Wednesday, and I’ve managed to keep my pants on and my sanity in check. I’d like to attribute this to the fact that I’m staying strong, but it’s helped that Lawson hasn’t come to work at the orchard the last two days. Between finally sleeping together and the incident at the grocery store on Saturday, I’ve jumped at the opportunity to use this time to think. Am I equipped to have a no-strings attached relationship? Am I overreacting? Do I secretly hope for something to blossom between us outside of sex? Am I sexed up so well that I can’t think straight? After having time to think, I’ve finally been able to answer these questions.

  Can I keep it casual? Yes. I haven’t done casual before so this is a good opportunity for me to work on any hang-ups. Who knows, I may want to try this again in Chicago.

  Me, overreacting? Maybe. I don’t like feeling like someone’s dirty secret, even though we did get down and dirty. I can’t get too angry though because it’s not like I can casually tell everyone in town that I’m jonesing on Lawson’s dick and am having newfound orgasm withdrawals.

  Do I want more than sex? My inner teenager does. Grown ass woman Mac? Hell no. I just need to separate the two and I’ll be good.

  Scrambled sex brain? Yes, yes, so much yes. Lawson literally fucked the memory of every other guy out of my brain and to think, he is just getting started.

  A shiver runs through my body at the thought of how he makes my body feel. That man is dangerous. As much as I want to have a repeat or two or three of our steamy encounter, I’m torn on how to move forward. On one hand, I don’t want to seem desperate for the way he makes my body come alive. On the other hand, maybe I should just reach out and show him I can handle this. Why does this have to be so hard?

  Thankfully I’m able to work through some of my frustration, both mental and sexual, on the inside of the barn. The past few days have been dedicated to giving it the deep clean it sorely needed. I survey the interior and feel a deep sense of genuine satisfaction, which is something I haven’t felt in a very long time. Planting my hands on my hips, I turn in a slow circle so I can get a good look at what I’ve been able to accomplish. Every surface of this place has been wiped, scrubbed, and wiped again. The once dusty, neglected barn is now glistening and welcoming. I draw in a deep breath and enjoy the clean scents of fresh summer air and lemon cleaning solution. Now I’ll be able to fill it with supplies for making cider and can reconfigure the layout so guests won’t be able to resist the invitation to come inside. I feel my excitement amp up as I think about all I need to do.

  “I’m going to be busy,” I happily say out loud.

  “Hopefully not too busy for me,” a deep voice says behind me.

  A decidedly unladylike shriek leaves my throat as I whirl around, one hand clutching the fabric over my heart and the other reaching for the closest thing as a weapon. Unfortunately for me, said weapon is a spray bottle full of cleaner but hey, maybe I can momentarily blind whoever snuck up on me so I can make a quick getaway.

  I make my full rotation, and for a moment my mind doesn’t truly register what’s in front of me. Instead of some strange man, I see Lawson in all his lumbersexual glory. He’s standing in front of me, looking ridiculously handsome with an expression on his face that’s a cross between surprise and an urge to hold in uncontrollable laughter. We stand and stare at each other for a few moments, the spray bottle still outstretched between us, and the laughter wins with Lawson. He throws his head back and laughs, the sound deep and uninhibited, and I have to check my jaw for drool as I watch him.

  I put the bottle down and cross my arms over my chest as I wait for him to quit laughing. While I wait I admire his strong form encased in dark jeans and a blue shirt, the sleeves rolled up at the elbows showcasing his insanely sexy forearms. Leave it up to the bastard to show up at the end of the day looking sexier than hell when I’m sweaty and dusty.

  It takes a solid minute before he can calm down enough to stop laughing, which is enough time for me to pull my gaze away from his arms. A couple rogue chuckles slip out, but he does an admirable job trying to compose himself, his mossy eyes filled with mirth as he looks at me. His gaze drifts over my body and his eyes darken, his expression becoming more serious when hi
s gaze catches on the cleavage created by my folded arms. I shake my head. Men are so predictable.

  “Why’d you sneak up on me?” I ask. “You should know that’s rude!”

  “I’m not exactly a small guy, Mac,” he retorts. “I didn’t even try to sneak up on you. I figured you would’ve heard me.”

  “Well, I obviously didn’t. Don’t do it again,” I say, brandishing a fist toward him as I give him my best or else look.

  “Or what, Mac? You gonna spray me with cleaner? I’m a dirty man but that’s not going to stop me.” His eyes are twinkling as he looks at me with a damned crooked smile curving his lips.

  “Shut up. It was all I had,” I huff indignantly.

  At this I can see that he’s trying to compose himself again. He places his large hand over his mouth and scrubs at the facial hair on his jaw in an attempt to stay calm.

  “Why were you talking to yourself, anyway? Who does that?”

  I give him my best blank stare. “It’s perfectly normal to talk to yourself.”

  “Oh, is it now?” he asks.

  “Yep. Oh, and what do you mean by you hope I’m not too busy for you?” I glare at him suspiciously.

  “I haven’t heard from you and decided to come see what you’ve been up to.”

  “You would’ve seen what I’ve been up to if you’d been here,” I state.

  “I know you missed me,” he smiles when he sees the expression on my face, “but I had to go supervise a new job and get some paperwork taken care of. I’ll be here the rest of the week.”