“You’ve had practice,” Crissy said.
Ellie didn’t pause, didn’t waver, didn’t flinch. “My grandma and I used to bake together all the time. She’s encouraged me ever since I was little to follow my dreams.”
“And what are those dreams?”
Ellie paused and straightened, her eyes glowing with excitement. “France. I want to go to culinary school in France and own a little restaurant there, surrounded by French food all day every day.”
“Then why are you here?”
“My parents are barely scraping by here,” Ellie replied. “I don’t want them to be under any financial strain when I go to school. I want to pay for it myself.”
“That sounds like it’s going to be a long road. But judging by your skills with food, I’d say you’ll definitely get there.”
Ellie smiled, pleased, then she ducked her head and nudged a stray petit four into place. “Sometimes I wonder though. It feels so far away, like it’s impossible. Grandma would have my head for saying that out loud but…I can’t help it.”
“Why do you think it’s impossible?”
“Because it’s expensive. Because maybe I don’t have what it takes. Because…”
Crissy held up a hand and Ellie bit her lip, silent.
“You know, I wanted to go culinary school at one time,” she said.
“And did you go?”
Crissy shook her head. “My family didn’t want me to and they put up obstacles at every opportunity. I had to find my own way and that way turned out different than what I had in mind but it turned out wonderful, too. Amy believed in me and that’s what kept me going. You’re family believes in you. Don’t ever forget that.”
“Do you think you’ll go to culinary school now?” Ellie asked. “You know so much. And the people here love your food.”
Crissy trailed a finger over the counter in thought. “I’ve considered it. And I might, somewhere in the future. Even though this little coffee shop is hardly more than a hole in the wall…I’ve grown pretty fond of it over the past few years.”
“I always thought you were very lucky.”
“How do you mean?”
“You have a job that you get to do what you love. You work with your best friend. You live in a beautiful little town.” Ellie paused, her gaze dropped to the counter and the tiniest blush crept over her cheeks. “And you have a handsome man who can’t stop staring at you.”
“Ah,” Crissy said with a nod. “When you put it that way, you’re absolutely right. I’m very, very lucky. What about you?”
“What about me?”
“Do you have someone special here?”
Ellie shook her head. “No. But…that was something else I was hoping to ask you about. Do you think Pete might…? I don’t know. I mean, I see him come in sometimes and he’s very nice and…”
Crissy stifled a grimace. “Already taken I’m afraid.”
Ellie’s face fell. “I was so sure…I haven’t seen him in here with a girl.”
Crissy raised her eyebrows, waiting. It took a moment but it finally came together and Ellie sighed.
“You know, that’s the second time in a row now,” she said. “The last crush I had, he was gay too.”
“Well, I hear third time’s a charm.”
Ellie perked up, a slight smile at her lips again. “Grandma says she’s living vicariously through me and that I have to go out to dinner with at least one guy while I’m in France.”
“Only after you smuggle a few recipes out for me first,” Crissy replied.
***
The shop was silent, the customers long since drifted home. Crissy was alone in her apartment as she surveyed herself in the bathroom mirror. She was wavering dangerously towards calling the whole thing off. She didn’t like the way her stomach rolled over the tiny panties and her breasts felt like they were about to just spill right out of the top…but she supposed that was partly the point. It wasn’t meant to stay on very long.
At that thought, butterflies of excitement swarmed in Crissy’s stomach and she took in a shuddering breath. A faint smile graced her lips at the thought of Quinn’s body against hers, the way he held her, the way he kissed her, the way his hands were always so gentle…
Before Crissy could think about it another second, she threw on an overcoat that came down well past her knees, and tied it off. The collar revealed a bit more skin than she would have liked so she would have to hold it closed. She tugged on her boots and hurried down the stairs, the thought of Quinn waiting for her the only thing driving her forward now. At six o’clock, the sidewalks were rolled up and she knew she wouldn’t run into anyone, one of the perks of living in a small town.
A light was on in the living room as Crissy climbed the front steps. She stopped at the door and willed herself to stop shaking. This was different than last night. This was…bold. Daring. Last night, there was barely any light to see each other by. It was only soft touches and heated kisses and the delicious, heady slide of skin against skin. But now, she was going to be completely in the light, every inch of skin for Quinn to see. What on earth possessed her to do this?
Slowly, Crissy raised her hand and knocked.
“Door’s open,” Quinn called.
Crissy pushed inside, her heart hammering in her chest. Was she really going to do this? Couldn’t she just make a run for it now?
“Is that you, Crissy?” Quinn said.
Crissy sucked in a breath. “Yes,” she said, kicking off her boots. She was doing this. No going back now. She stripped off her jacket and hung it on the hook by the door, then squeezed her hands together.
“I’m in the living room,” he replied. “I’ve got pizza and the guys helped me set up the television today so we could watch a movie if you wanted to or…”
Crissy stepped into the doorway, her heart in her throat, her stomach tight. Quinn froze on the couch, a slice of pizza halfway to his mouth, his eyes wide.
“Holy Christ,” he breathed.
Crissy couldn’t move. Was that a good reaction? A bad reaction? Should she say something? For one agonizing second, neither one of them spoke or moved.
Before she could make a decision, Quinn scrambled into action and swept the couch clean of pizza boxes, paper plates, and napkins. He shut off the television and didn’t even pay attention to where he tossed the remote control when he turned to look back at her.
Somehow, Crissy found herself crossing the room, despite how her stomach flip-flopped all over the place. He held his hand up, palm facing her, and she laced her fingers into his as she straddled his lap.
“I have no idea what I did,” he said, “to deserve this surprise but I’ll make sure to keep doing it. Whatever it is.”
Crissy laughed softly as she kissed him, lightly at first, the bare brush of lips against his. Then she pressed her hips down, grinding against him, pleased at the small strangled sound that she drew from him and swallowed on a deeper, hungrier kiss.
She took her time, mapping out exactly how much she loved him with her fingers and her lips and her tongue. When she finally pulled back to look at him, his pupils were blown wide and his hands settled on her hips. She slid her fingers down his chest, slowly, savoring every inch of him before she unbuckled his belt and freed his cock, already hard and curving up towards his stomach.
Crissy raised herself up, pulled her underwear to the side and slowly, inch by inch, sank down until Quinn was fully sheathed inside her, filling her. Quinn bit his bottom lip and closed his eyes as his head tipped back against the couch. She trailed her fingers over his cheek and down the column of his throat, not moving, not yet. But she felt him tense beneath her, trying to maintain his control, to not push up into her. This was all in Crissy’s hands and he was giving her full control. She needed to show him just how much she loved him.
With one lazy roll of Crissy’s hips, Quinn swore under his breath and his fingers tightened at her waist. She rode him slowly, her fingers sliding over ever
y inch of skin she could reach as she kissed him, long and hard and deep. Quinn sat up, one hand at her hip, the other braced against her spine as he kissed the tops of her breasts, up her throat and to her lips.
White heat coiled in Crissy’s belly and she felt her body tightening as she gradually brought both of them to the edge on a steady burn. Quinn’s arms tightened around her, his forehead pressed to her collarbone. Crissy arched her back, her fingers tangled in his hair, feeling as if her entire body would burst from how much she loved this man in her arms.
***
It was like that for an entire week. Crissy would close up shop and head straight to Quinn. And he was always waiting, ready to greet her with a kiss and a smile. The front door was barely closed before they were peeling each other’s clothes off, laughing through their kisses as they stumbled to the bedroom.
One morning, as Crissy lay next to Quinn, her head tucked under his chin, she skirted her fingers dangerously close to that ticklish spot near his ribs just so he would catch her hand and kiss each one of her fingers.
“If you’ll behave yourself for half a second,” he teased, “I have something for you.”
She pushed herself up on one elbow to look at him. “You don’t really want me to behave, do you?”
He seemed to think about it for a second then nodded. “You’re right. I don’t. Just…no tickling.”
Crissy pressed her lips together and burrowed under the blankets again. Quinn leaned over to the bedside table and pulled out a small rectangular brown box. When he set it on her stomach, she peeled the covers back and looked at it, eyebrows raised. She picked it up and popped the lid off to find a key inside.
“You can come and go as much as you like now,” he said. He shifted onto his side, his head propped on his hand, his finger trailing along the curve of her jaw. “As much as it kills me, I’m covering for Pete over the weekend and I won’t be here. But I wanted you to have a place to escape to if you needed it.”
Crissy smiled softly and tipped her face up to kiss him. “Thank you, Quinn,” she said.
“I’m kind of hoping you’ll wear all my shirts when I’m gone so they smell like you when I put them on later,” he said with a grin.
“Work, work, work,” she teased. “But that reminds me. I have something for you.”
She turned to fish for her jeans from the floor, dug around in the pocket, and handed him a small brown envelope. He tipped it upside down into his palm and a key spilled out.
“So you can come and go in the shop whenever you like,” she said. “No more late night rocks at my window.”
“Well now you’re just taking all the fun out of life.”
An hour later, Crissy tore herself away from Quinn, pocketing the brand new key. Quinn watched her from the bed, smiling as she slipped the key into her pocket. He reached out and caught her hand, pulling her back to the bed but she pushed him down against the pillows and twisted away.
“Oh no you don’t,” she said. “I have to get to work and you are not helping.”
“How did I get stuck with such a responsible girlfriend?” he grumbled, letting his arm drop over the side of the bed.
“I believe bribery with food was involved,” she replied with a laugh and one final kiss.
His hand came up, reaching for her, but she danced away and out the door. Crissy was still smiling so much her cheeks ached when she reached the coffee shop and flipped the open sign. Amy wasn’t due for another hour at least and Ellie wasn’t coming in until noon so she would have the shop to herself for a little while.
The second Crissy stepped inside, warning bells screamed in her head at the smell that rolled over her, turning her stomach.
Smoke.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
Crissy’s heart dropped at the sight before her. Black curls of smoke billowed out of the kitchen, crawling across the ceiling like tentacles. For a split second, she couldn’t move, frozen to the spot in horror. Then she surged forward, snatched the fire extinguisher from beneath the front counter and burst into the kitchen.
White hot flames licked up the walls and chewed through the ceiling. A massive hole had already been burned away, exposing an innocent glimpse of the robin’s egg blue walls of her apartment overhead. Waves of heat blasted across her skin and made her eyes water, sending her stumbling a step or two in retreat. Crissy put her arm up to shield her face as she fumbled with the extinguisher and turned it on the fire.
It was already a lost cause, she knew that. The fire was growing faster than she could put it out, eating into her apartment upstairs. Somewhere in the back of her mind, a sensible voice told her to leave while she still could. But she couldn’t stop. This was her home. She couldn’t leave. She couldn’t let it go.
“Crissy!”
Amy’s voice filtered through the haze of smoke and snapped Crissy out of her thoughts. She spun, arm over her mouth, her lungs screaming for air. She waded back in the direction of the kitchen door, seeing nothing but a wall of gray smoke. A questing hand clamped around her wrist and yanked her forward. She stumbled into Amy’s crushing hug.
“What the hell are you doing in here?” Amy demanded.
“Amy, the baby,” Crissy yelled over the bellowing flames. She broke off, her throat scratchy and rough, her back burning from the heat of the fire behind her.
“I’m not leaving you behind, Crissy. Let’s go.”
Crissy shook her head and tried to pry herself away. “No, I can still save it.”
Amy grabbed Crissy’s face in her hands. “It’s gone, sugar. It’s over.”
The building creaked overhead, groaning from the assault of the fire. For one agonizing second, Crissy didn’t move. Then she nodded and dropped the extinguisher, following Amy out of the shop. They bowed their heads, shirt collars pulled up to cover their faces.
As they stepped out onto the street, sirens filled the air. The street was already crowded with onlookers huddled together in coats thrown hastily over their pajamas. Two fire trucks came around the corner and parked on the street. Firefighters Crissy didn’t recognize herded people away from the building and over to the other side of the street, a safe distance away from the fire.
Crissy and Amy huddled together against the cool morning, watching as flames danced across the roof, red and orange and gold, blindingly brilliant against the jewel blue sky. Distantly, she heard her name being called again but she didn’t move, didn’t look away from the shop, from her home.
Then Quinn was there, in full gear, oxygen masks in hand. He pressed one to Amy’s face gently and pulled her hand up to hold it there.
“I’m fine,” she said. “I only ran in to get Crissy out. I wasn’t in there long.”
“It’s just a precaution,” he replied. “Especially for the baby.” He turned to Crissy and placed the second mask over her face.
“Crissy, look at me,” he said.
She tried to pull away, to brush the mask aside, but Quinn’s hand came around the back of her head with such gentle insistence that her protests melted.
“Fight me all you want, sweetheart,” he said. “You need fresh air in your lungs.”
Crissy went still and allowed him to hold the mask over her face, waiting and watching as she took a few deep breaths, the sweet, clean air filtering into her lungs. Her gaze drifted over his shoulder as a shower of sparks popped into the sky like fireworks. He moved to block her view and she craned to look around him but he caught her face and tipped her head up until she saw him and only him.
“Hey,” he said. “Eyes on me.”
Crissy squeezed her eyes shut for a moment then concentrated on keeping her gaze trained on Quinn’s face.
“Are you hurt?” he asked.
She blinked once, twice. Was she? There was a gaping, throbbing hole in her chest where her heart was…used to be. But a flicker of logic, dim though it was with her brain slow from shock, said that wasn’t what Quinn was asking.
“No,” she managed, her voic
e a hoarse croak.
Quinn watched her for a few seconds. His blue eyes were so concerned, so…scared. She’d never seen him like that. He finally let his hands slide away and he nodded to Amy.
“Amy, make sure she keeps that mask on for a little while longer,” he said. “I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
Quinn was pulling away, leaving. A flicker of panic licked in Crissy’s chest and she reached out for him, caught his arm. He wrapped his fingers around her hand and gave her a reassuring squeeze before he turned and disappeared into the swarm of firefighters, struggling to get the blaze under control. Crissy’s hands were cold with his absence and she wanted….needed…him back again. She didn’t want to look at this burning building anymore, this place that was her home. She didn’t want to see her life going up in flames. Amy wrapped an arm around Crissy’s shoulders in silence.
Distantly, Crissy heard someone else approach, heard Amy talking in low tones. Pete, she realized afterwards. He’d brought blankets to keep them warm and help with the shock, and he brought bottled water too, for their raw, smoke-coated throats. Pete placed a hand on her shoulder and said nothing more before he returned to his crew again.
A chorus of shouts went up between the firefighters. Crissy’s fingers tightened on Amy’s hand. The building wheezed, shifted. Firefighters skirted away from the shop as it seemed to fold in itself, as if it was made of nothing more than cards and toothpicks. A strangled noise tore from Crissy’s throat and she placed a hand over her mouth.
Within the hour, the building was lost, a charred, blackened skeleton left behind. The surrounding buildings were safe, a bittersweet victory in and of itself. Just the shop was gone, plucked from the town, completely unsalvageable.
By the noon, the onlookers had drifted away and the firefighters were rolling up their hoses, tucking their equipment away again. Crissy and Amy sat on the curb across the street. Crissy’s throat felt stripped raw from coughing and smoke inhalation but at least she could breathe without the mask now.
Sugar And Spice (Holidays: Valentine) Page 22