Sweet as Pie

by Alicia Hunter Pace

  She was going out of her mind. Maybe it was the emotional overload of the day or the three glasses of wine she’d had—two more than usual. She was willing to call Able up until midnight, but no later, and that time was fast approaching. No phone, no car, no carrier pigeon. She looked out the window to see if Hyacinth’s lights were on. Of course not. So no awake Hyacinth either. She might as well be on a one-person island in the middle of the ocean. Pacific, Atlantic. Any ocean would do. The Isle of Evans. That’s what she’d call her island.

  But wait. There was a phone at Crust—though she couldn’t walk there in her pajamas. Feeling like the idiot of the century, she started toward her bedroom to change.

  Then, the doorbell rang.

  Oh, happy, happy day! She wouldn’t have to dress and walk to Crust, after all. They had found her phone. That would be her daddy bringing it to her. She ran across the room and jerked open the door.

  “Hey, Evie.”

  Her whole world stopped.

  There stood Jake, blue eyes wide, blond hair a mess, wearing shorts and a T-shirt that had seen some wear and hot water. He looked like he’d been to the gym a few times since its acquisition, too. Then it occurred to her that her tank top was none too loose fitting either—and she wasn’t wearing a bra.

  Was it her imagination or were his eyes sliding up and down her body?

  He held up her phone. “I brought this.”

  Right. Of course.

  She had, for a fraction of moment, forgotten about her phone. She’d thought he had come to see her. Some things never changed. She looked past him to see if Robbie and the twins were waiting outside for him to get his little errand done so they could all get on with the good times.

  But no. Just the bugmobile, and it was empty.

  “I thought you’d be with Jezebel and Jolene,” she said.

  He laughed the barest bit. “Delilah and Dawn. I’m not.” He stepped inside and closed the door with his foot without turning around. “I thought you’d be with Killjoy.”

  “I’m not.”

  He took a deep breath and narrowed his eyes. She couldn’t read his expression. That almost never happened, but this look was one she’d never seen before.

  Electricity bloomed around them, gradually at first, until the room was alive with full-blown lightning—at least for her. Maybe it was the feeling that she was about to be torn apart by a thunderbolt that made her brave enough to ask, “Do you want to be? With them, I mean?” She immediately regretted the question and braced herself for hearing that he was on his way to catch up with them now. She took the phone and stepped away from him, away from the electricity and the door he would, no doubt, exit in the next five seconds.

  “No. If I wanted to be, I would be.”

  He closed the space between them, placed one hand on her shoulder and the other on her cheek. And there was the lightning—in his hands. The electricity started on her scalp and worked its way down her body, crackling as it went.

  “Do you want to be with Killjoy?” He slid his thumb down her neck.

  “No. If I wanted to be, I would be,” she echoed his answer.

  “I’m glad to hear it.” He looked deep into her eyes and let his own go soft. “So damned glad.”

  Her heart lifted and reached for a gold ring engraved with the word hope—the same gold ring it had tried to catch so many times.

  After years of hiding her heart, swallowing the words she wanted to say, and pretending like her feelings didn’t matter, she found her backbone and went for broke. “Jake, don’t look at me like that if you’re not going to do anything about it.” She closed her eyes and waited for the answer.

  “What do you want me to do? This?” And he pulled her completely into his arms. “Or this?” He let his hand drift over her collarbone and down—almost grazing her breast—to stroke her side.

  Her breath caught, her nipples went on high alert—and she dropped her phone with a thud.

  He laughed a little into her ear. “I guess you didn’t want your phone, after all. But I’m glad you lost it.”

  And with that, he lifted her hips and molded her to him, pelvis to pelvis, letting his arousal come to full bloom against her. She felt hot, cold, and impossibly desirable. His desire might be left over from an ice girl or even a faceless fantasy, but—in this moment—she felt like it was for her.

  He boldly moved against her, it seemed, just to show her this was not an accident. She went limp and shivered in his arms.

  “Is that what you wanted me to do?” he said against her ear. “Or was it this?”

  After all these years, and all the longing that the world could hold, his mouth was finally on hers.

  This was not a kiss. This was The Kiss.

  It wasn’t the sloppy kiss of a boy who didn’t know what he was doing, but it wasn’t a kiss of pure lust either. It wasn’t the practiced, perfected kiss that would have made it seem like he’d been to kiss camp. This was the ultimate kiss—a little sloppy, a little lusty, and a whole lot of proof that he knew what he was doing.

  But there was something more—a little of I ought not to be doing this, but I can’t help myself. That made it better, because there wasn’t a woman alive who didn’t dream of making a man—a particular man—lose himself.

  And she was lost herself.

  It was the most romantic moment of her life.

  After a time, he lifted his mouth from hers, but his face didn’t go far. Their noses were no more than an inch apart and his eyes looked all the more blue because, being so close, they were blurry. He cradled her head in the crook of his arm and she clutched fistfuls of his T-shirt.

  Then he lifted his face a little more, enough so that she could see his smile. She smiled back—and in one smooth swoop, they were on the sofa, and he was kissing her again. He might have been to get-her-on-the-sofa-in-a-reclining-position camp. She laughed a little, deep in her throat, partly at her funny thought and partly from pure joy. Every cell in her body was singing, singing a song they had been waiting to sing only for this man.

  “You wouldn’t be making fun of me, would you, Evans Arlene?” he whispered near her ear.

  She gave him a playful punch in the shoulder and laughed, even as chill bumps covered her from his mouth on her ear.

  “Don’t call me that!” she said like she had every time he’d ever called her by her full name—though it had been a long time. She so hated her middle name—in part because she had no love for the stern, judgmental great aunt she’d been named for—that no one in her present life even knew it.

  “Oh, Evie.” He rolled over on his back, bringing her along until she lay on top of him. “I’ve been fighting this but, deep down, I knew it was coming. I think I’ve known from the first day I hit town.” And he kissed her again.

  I didn’t know, but I hoped. I’ve always hoped. And please, please, God, don’t let this be nothing, don’t let it mean nothing, because that would be too cruel.

  “Kiss me here.” He guided her face to his neck and her mouth to the place above his collarbone. When she opened her mouth and let her tongue trail there, he let out a low moan and shifted their bodies until their hips were pressed perfectly together.

  She moved against him, let out a moan of her own, and opened her mouth wider against the spot on his neck.

  “Here...let me...” He turned her slightly and ran his hand lightly and briefly over her breasts before reaching under her tank top to cup and squeeze.

  It was going to happen. Finally, she wasn’t the between-girlfriends gal pal. She was the one he was holding, the one he was going to make love to. Was she wearing pretty panties? What had she put on after her shower?

  Then the razor-sharp realization ripped through her. Fuck, hell, damn, and every other curse word that had ever been invented. Granny panties. The ones she always wore when she had her period.
>
  Wasn’t that just the way of it for her? Finally ending up to be not happening, after all. Because she could not have sex. Sure, more adventurous women did, but she wasn’t adventurous. And even if she had been, having sex with Jake for the first time during her period was out of the question.

  Jake must have sensed the change in her because he stilled his hand on her breast.

  “Evie, is something wrong?”

  She rolled off him and sat up. “Jake, I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  He swung around to sit beside her, confusion on his face. “Okay?” He widened his eyes, questioning.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to,” she hurried to say. “I do. Very much.” She felt her face go hot. “It’s not the right time.” He had a sister, had had girlfriends, a wife. Surely he knew what she was alluding to. “Do you understand what I mean? What I’m saying?”

  After a moment, he nodded. “I do, Evie. Thank you for saying so.”

  And to her joy, he reached for her hand.

  “I’m glad you get it.” She stuck out her bottom lip to show him she really was sorry about it. “I nearly forgot and got carried away there...”

  He laughed a little. “I know.” He reached for a pillow and covered his lap. “I might need to sit here a little while until I simmer down.” He smiled and bit his lip. “And I might need to kiss you a little bit, while I do—only kiss you.”

  “I don’t know if that would help the matter at hand, but I might need to let you.” And she went back into his arms. They did just kiss—as if there was anything just about kissing Jake Champagne—for a long while. Then his hand began to snake up her shirt again. She caught her breath. Should she stop him? Probably, but she didn’t want to. Maybe in a bit.

  But he stopped abruptly and sat back.

  “I said only kissing, and I was about to break that promise.” He pushed her hair off her face. “Lord, girl, what you do to me. How is it we missed this when we were teenagers?”

  I didn’t miss it, but that doesn’t matter.

  She just smiled. His stomach let out a long, loud growl and they laughed.

  “Are you hungry?” she asked.

  “Since coming off the ice I have had one orange, a CLIF Bar, and about three bites of pizza.” His eyes drifted to the coffee table and her abandoned brownie. “You’ve got a brownie. Can I have a bite?”

  She couldn’t snatch it up and hold it out to him fast enough. “Have it all. I don’t want it.”

  He shook his head and laughed. “Why do you always do that?”

  “What?”

  “Say yes, even when you don’t want to.”

  “I don’t want it,” she insisted.

  “You do.” He ruffled her hair. “Don’t lie to me. You’ve been eating it. You were eating it when I came to the door, weren’t you?”

  Not exactly, but close enough. “Maybe I just want you to have it. You’re hungry. Can you accept that?”

  He looked from her face to the brownie and back again. “I can.” He took the brownie and ate half in one bite. “But only because my stomach is digesting itself.”

  “Do you want some milk?”

  “More than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.” Then he grinned and looked at her like she’d always hoped he would. “Well, almost anything.”

  The brownie was gone when she returned, and he’d opened the tin of cheese straws from the gift basket. She liked that he’d assumed he could have something that was hers; she wanted to give him everything she owned.

  “Sorry.” He held up a cheese straw. “I’ll buy you some more.”

  “Not necessary. Your mother bought those anyway.” She set his milk on the coffee table and handed him a plate with a blueberry muffin and two containers of yogurt. “Provisions are slim. I haven’t shopped lately, and I’m out of everything except breakfast food. Maybe that’ll hold you until you can get back to your pizza.”

  He accepted the plate. “Breakfast food. Hmmm.” He took bite of the muffin. “I guess I don’t have to worry that you’ll need this in the morning since you’ll be fed courtesy of the Alabama Yellowhammers and Mr. Killjoy.”

  He sounded jealous. Had he been all along? Could that be why he didn’t like Able?

  “How did you know I was going to the breakfast with Able?”

  He opened the yogurt. “How do you think? The Delta Queens.” He spooned yogurt into his mouth. “Peach. My favorite.”

  “Delta Queens,” she repeated. “How appropriate. I think of them as the Information Power Pair.”

  “That fits, too.” He paused. “I don’t call them that to their faces.”

  “Oh, no. Hell, no. Me neither,” Evans answered.

  They looked at each other for a long moment, sharing moments of their lives and their history that didn’t have to be voiced or explained. She had never been able to make clear her relationship with Anna-Blair to anyone without sounding like an ungrateful bitch who didn’t love her mother—but Jake knew.

  “Do you want to know something they don’t know?” Evans asked.

  Jake grinned. “I think I already do.” He placed his hand on the spot on his neck that she had so recently kissed.

  She rolled her eyes. “Besides that.”

  “I can’t wait.”

  “I’m not going to the breakfast with Able.”

  Jake cocked his head to the side. “Oh, yeah?”

  It wouldn’t do to let him think it was because of what had just transpired between them. She didn’t want to look like she was making assumptions about a relationship that might not develop.

  “I was going to call him before you got here. That’s how I discovered I didn’t have my phone.”

  “What made you decide?”

  I’m in love with you, Jake. I always have been. I didn’t want to be with him.

  “It just wasn’t right. I guess I wanted to head it off before everyone on the team thought we were a couple.”

  “But you asked his family to eat with us tonight.”

  She shook her head. “I did not. That was all the work of the Information Power Delta Queens.”

  He nodded and took a drink of his milk. “I love them, Evie. I swear I do. I even enjoy their company but, Lord have mercy, they wear me out like no skate-’til-you-drop practice ever could.”

  “I could write the book on that.”

  “So, I won’t see you tomorrow.” It was a statement, not a question.

  “No. I guess it’s gotten too late to call Able tonight, but I’ll do it in the morning.”

  He nodded and took her hand. “About the Delta Queens.”

  “Yes?”

  “I don’t know what’s happening here.” He gestured from himself to her. “But something. Can we keep it to ourselves?”

  “Oh, yes. The biggest yes in the world. Nobody needs that conversation.”

  “That’s for sure.”

  She hesitated. “There is a conversation I want to have—about something I realized at the game.”

  He looked at the ceiling. “Hockey pointers? I was a mess there for a while.”

  She nodded. “You got over it. No. About Blake...”

  Clouds moved over his face. “What about him?”

  “I realized we haven’t really talked about it since you came to town. I haven’t even asked how you’re doing. I know how it was between you two.”

  His bright eyes darkened, but he smiled a little heartbreak smile. “You do.” He squeezed her hand. “You saw it.”

  “How are you?”

  He closed his eyes and sighed before meeting her gaze again. “I thought I was okay. The whole summer, that’s all I thought about with Olivia and the kids—all any of us thought about. But keeping them moving and trying to keep them distracted was a distraction for me, too. Then, I got here, and wa
s so busy, I didn’t think about it.” He wrinkled his forehead. “But the last few days, a couple of times, I’ve forgotten he’s dead. I’ve started to call him twice. And I think, how could I forget? I don’t know if I’m crazy or a total asshole.”

  Evans had heard of people who wished they could take someone’s pain on themselves, but she’d never felt that way until now. She couldn’t do that, but she fought to find some comforting words.

  “I don’t think you’re either. I think you’re grieving appropriately. It shows how strong your relationship was that you want to talk to him so much that you let yourself forget he’s gone.”

  He looked at her long and deep. “Thank you. I needed to hear that.”

  “I’m right here.”

  They shared a silent moment. “I’m going to count on that.”

  “See that you do.” She stood up and held her hand out to him. “You should go home and rest. Big day tomorrow.”

  He rose and stretched. “You’re right. Christine will have a search party organized if I don’t get back soon.” He picked up his dirty dishes. “I’ll just wash these first.”

  That was weird. “Jake, you don’t need to do that.”

  “Trust me, I do.” And he headed to the kitchen.

  When he kissed her goodbye at the door, he tasted like chocolate, peaches, and blueberries.

  “I’ll call you from the road,” he said.

  She hugged herself as she watched the insectmobile drive away. Then she ran her hands over her neck, lips, breasts—everywhere he’d touched her—not quite believing it had happened, but praying it would happen again.

  Chapter Nineteen

  The plane was almost full by the time Jake boarded.

  He slid into the seat beside Robbie and fastened his seatbelt. It wasn’t quite time to take off, but he liked to settle in.

  “The plane’s right posh,” Robbie said.

  “Did you think it wouldn’t be?” Jake pulled his iPad and noise-canceling headphones out of his backpack.