Only for You (Sugar Lake Book 2)

by Melissa Foster

  Snuggle. Snuggle.

  Torture. Torture.

  “Babe, if Louie gets up, I’ll never forgive myself for waiting so long.”

  “Me either.” She clung to his arms, keeping them securely around her. “Get out of here. Geez, you’re great at doling out orgasms, but you suck at leaving.”

  She flashed a cheesy smile, and they both laughed.

  He kissed her shoulder, wanting desperately to stay, and whispered, “Louie,” as a reminder to them both.

  “Fine.” She released him, then quickly grabbed his arms again. “Same time tomorrow night?”

  He swept her beneath him and rubbed his nose over her cheek. “What am I, your booty call?”

  “Hey, a booty call. That’s a great idea.”

  “I can’t leave when you’re so unbelievably cute. Can’t you be bitchy or something?”

  She wiggled her hips. “I can be or something.”

  “Christ, Bridge. That’s not helpful.” He sat up on the edge of the bed, elbows on knees, trying to calm down his revved-up body and wrap his mind around the powerful emotions telling him to make love to her again. “For the record, I frigging hate leaving you.” He reluctantly pushed to his feet and pulled on his briefs.

  “I know. Hand me your shirt?”

  “My shirt?” He tossed it to her.

  She pulled it over her head and slid off the bed. His shirt tumbled down her thighs. “Perfect.”

  He drew her into his arms and went for her neck, making her squirm and giggle and making him want to stay even more. “Wearing my shirt is very girlfriendish.”

  “Don’t fool yourself,” she said with another sweet laugh. “I’ve totally got this friends-with-benefits thing down.”

  “Me, too.” It was a flat-out lie. He needed chains and a padlock to even come close to reining in his emotions. He stepped into his jeans and ran a hand through his hair, trying to trick himself into believing he wasn’t aware of every breath Bridgette took as she wrapped her arms around her middle, one knee bent, her hair falling sexily over one eye as she watched him dress.

  “Get over here.” He hauled her against him again, his chest constricting for the millionth time. “I’ll get out of here so you can get some sleep.”

  “Thanks for the big O.” She kissed the center of his chin. “See? No emotions. All sex and booty-call talk.”

  Her feigned casual-sex talk couldn’t hide the longing in her eyes. “Bridgette,” he said in the most serious voice he could muster. “Kidding aside, can I see you tomorrow night?”

  She nodded.

  “And the night after?” He should stop there, but there was no way he was going to. “And every damn night until I go back to the city at the end of next week?”

  Sadness rose in her eyes. “At the end of next week?” she said in a small voice. “How did the time go so fast?”

  “I have training a week from Sunday.” Several painful silent seconds ticked by. “Bridge, we still have time. It’s only Tuesday.” He pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Tell me you’ll spend every evening with me until I leave. Please give us that time.”

  “I will. But let’s not talk about you leaving. I want to enjoy our time, so when you do eventually leave, we have nothing but happy memories.” She hugged him and rested her cheek against his chest. “And then I’m going to pretend you’ll live happily ever after under the lights of the Big Apple, and never risk your life again.”

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  “I CAN’T HIRE that girl,” Bridgette said to Talia. She was arranging the second of three centerpieces for a last-minute order from the owner of a local restaurant. It was Thursday afternoon, and she was late picking up Louie again. Talia had stopped by on her way home to help Bridgette work her way through the applications she’d been ignoring. “I know too much about her, and yes, that’s judgmental. But she sleeps with every guy she can get her hands on. That’s not the type of person I want around my family and customers.”

  “Bridge, you’ve nixed the last three applications because of personal reasons.” Talia closed the laptop, giving Bridgette the have-I-taught-you-nothing look she’d honed over the years. “You need to throw caution to the wind, bite the bullet, and hire someone.”

  Bridgette sighed heavily and set the flower she was holding on the table. Hadn’t she been throwing enough caution to the wind lately?

  “Tell me something I don’t know. Mom and Dad have plans tonight, and they’re dropping off Louie on their way out because I had to fill this order from one of my biggest clients. My kid has eaten Chinese food so many times in the last two weeks that Li might as well adopt him, and other than five minutes when Bodhi came by to pick up my key this morning so he could install a peephole in my door, I haven’t seen him since yesterday morning when he stopped by under the guise of borrowing sugar.” And I miss him desperately.

  “I couldn’t even get near him, because Dad bought Louie a pack of baseball cards, and Louie wanted to show them to Bodhi before we left. And then last night I was so exhausted I fell asleep watching a movie with Louie, and I didn’t see Bodhi’s text until two o’clock this morning. So, my dear sister, we are in agreement. I need to hire someone yesterday, because I’m stuck here having serious Bodhi withdrawals wrapped in mommy guilt. And I appreciate you helping me with the applications, but if I hire someone I don’t trust, I’ll spend just as much time worrying about what they’re doing as I would doing the work myself. Then I can add ‘babysitting staff’ to my list of stressors.”

  “That’s true,” Talia conceded. “Just listening to you makes me tired. You’re doing too much, Bridgette. I don’t remember you being this busy before.”

  “I know. A growing business is a blessing and a curse.”

  “What about putting an ad in a paper in the surrounding areas and hiring someone from a bigger town? Maybe you’ll get lucky and find someone who’s relocating. Or you could ask Aurelia to help out until she and Willow finalize their plans for the bakery and bookstore. Piper said it’ll take a while to get their renovations done once they start, and Aurelia’s smart as a whip. I’m sure you’d have to train her, which would take some time, but at least you would have time to cook dinners for Louie and hopefully you won’t be so tired, so you’ll be able to see Bodhi after Louie goes to bed.”

  “You always come up with creative ideas.” Bridgette went back to arranging the flowers. “I’ll think about it. But Bodhi’s leaving at the end of next week, and I probably won’t have time to hire someone quick enough to free up time for us. Also, Louie doesn’t know there’s anything between us. We have to be careful around him.”

  “But you’ll see Bodhi after he leaves, right? Long-distance relationships work.”

  “It’s not like that between us,” she said solemnly, aching at the reality that their time together was quickly coming to an end.

  “The man is putting in a peephole and taking you and your son to New York,” Talia said. “How can it not be like that?”

  She didn’t want to discuss this, and she wasn’t prepared to talk about why it had to be that way. Bodhi had been clear that his life was on the line with every mission. Talking about it would only make her sad. Instead she said, “I know you aren’t into the whole friends-with-benefits idea, but that’s where it ends.”

  The bell over the door chimed, and Louie and their parents walked in.

  “Auntie Talia!” Louie plowed into her legs.

  “Hey, pumpkin.” Talia tucked her long dark hair behind her ear and crouched next to him. “Did you have fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

  “Uh-huh. We’re going to New York City with Bodhi to see a baseball game on Saturday, and Grandpa said if I catch a foul ball he’ll buy a special case to put it in. I hope I catch one.”

  “That sounds like a very special trip.” Talia glanced at Bridgette. “I hope you catch one, too.”

  “It’s going to be fun,” Louie said. “Bodhi’s mom loves the Yankees, and she’s going with us.”


  “She is, is she?” Talia arched a brow. “That sounds . . .”

  “Serious?” Roxie offered. She looked pretty in a dark-blue crinkle-cotton skirt and blouse.

  “I was going to say fun,” Talia said, eyeing Louie.

  “It will be fun!” Louie wrapped his fingers around the edge of the counter and peered over it to where Bridgette was working. “Pretty flowers, Mommy.”

  “Thanks, honey.” Bridgette blew him a kiss. “Just a few more minutes, okay?”

  “Serious can be fun,” Roxie said. “Just ask your very serious father.”

  Their father kissed Talia’s cheek. “Hi, beautiful.” Then he joined Bridgette and kissed her, too. “Hi, princess.”

  Dan Dalton was the quiet strength of their family. From his short-cropped hair to his pressed shirt and pants, he was conservative and careful, like Talia. And beneath that retired-professor facade was a heart as big as they came.

  “Hi, Dad. Sorry to make you guys stop on your way out. The order came in late, and the restaurant is one of my biggest clients. I couldn’t say no.” Bridgette had always been close to her father. Despite making his disappointment clear to her when she’d quit college to marry Jerry, he’d never held it against her, and he’d loved Jerry as if he were his own flesh and blood. For that she would always be grateful.

  “It’s not a problem,” he assured her.

  The bell above the door chimed again, and Bridgette kicked herself for not remembering to lock it. She stepped out from around the table and was surprised to see a man carrying a gorgeous vase overflowing with flowers.

  “Hi,” he said. “I’m looking for Bridgette Dalton.”

  “That’s my mom!” Louie grabbed Bridgette’s hand, dragging her toward the man.

  “There must be a mistake,” Bridgette said. “I don’t order premade bouquets.”

  “This is the Secret Garden flower shop, right?” the guy asked.

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then I’m in the right place. Enjoy them.” He handed her the vase and left.

  She set the stunning bouquet on the table and looked for a card. “This has got to be a mistake. These aren’t even flowers I’d typically arrange together.”

  “Well, if it’s a mistake, I’ll be happy to take them home,” Talia said.

  Bridgette opened and read the card.

  Beautiful girl,

  Louie is your forget-me-not.

  Iris.

  You’re a red camellia, my chrysanthemum.

  I love the yellow tulip.

  Your gardenia,

  B. B.

  She stared at the message, trying to figure out what it could mean. She looked at her mother, who was peering over her shoulder with a look of understanding and awe in her eyes, and it came to her. The note was a coded message written in the secret language of flowers.

  Beautiful girl,

  Louie is your true love, your memories.

  Your friendship means so much to me.

  You’re a flame in my heart, my wonderful friend.

  I love the sunshine in your smile.

  Your secret lover,

  Bodhi Booker

  Louie pulled at her shirt. “Who are they from, Mommy?”

  Bridgette’s eyes flicked up to her mother, who was still leaning over her shoulder reading the card. Her mother smiled. Roxie was the reason Bridgette had become a florist. When Bridgette and Louie had first moved back to Sweetwater, they’d stayed with her parents. Bridgette had needed a way to work through her most private feelings without having to confess them to a counselor or family. Her mother had suggested that she help in the garden to keep her hands and mind busy. Over the course of two weeks, Roxie had shared her love of the secret language of flowers. She had a way of weaving information into normal conversation without pushing or prying or even forthright teaching. She had given Bridgette a safe way to channel her energy, and she’d opened up a secret language for Bridgette to let her innermost feelings out in a way not many people would understand.

  As she gazed into her mother’s eyes, she saw the same surprise she felt.

  Bodhi understood.

  “Mom?” Louie said, tugging on her shirt. “Who are they from?”

  She placed a hand on Louie’s shoulder and said, “A very special friend.”

  “Looks like the lotion I gave him is working its magic,” her mother said with a glimmer of hope in her eyes.

  “Mom,” Bridgette scolded, and lowered her voice. “Not that I believe in your love potions, but it can’t be like that. Please don’t get your hopes up.” I’m having enough trouble trying to keep mine in check.

  BODHI LOOKED OUT the front window, watching for Bridgette’s car, as he spoke to his mother on the phone. “All I have left is painting the downstairs bedroom, but I’ll get that done. You’ll be all set by the time I leave for training.”

  “Thanks, honey. I’m excited to see you and your friends on Sunday.”

  He’d been careful not to share any personal details with his mother about his relationship with Bridgette. She’d been on his case for years to get into a safer line of work, and he didn’t need the pressure of her using Bridgette and Louie as leverage. He’d gotten enough of that from Shira when she’d called earlier.

  “And the three of you are staying at your place?”

  “That’s the plan.” He’d already called his housekeeper and asked her to make up the guest room and stock the kitchen with kid-friendly foods. She had worked for him for the past three years, and she’d worked for his mother for three times as long. Her curiosity over his first houseguest had brought more questions than the dozen Louie had asked when they’d fixed the playset.

  “If you and Bridgette would like to go out for an adult evening, I’d be happy to babysit.”

  His instinct was to jump at the chance, but he didn’t know if Louie would be comfortable, and he and Bridgette would worry about him the whole time they were out. “Thanks, Mom, but it’s probably easier if we stay together.”

  The sound of Bridgette’s car drew his attention. Dahlia pressed her nose against the glass. After ending the call, he and Dahlia headed outside. Even though he’d already seen Bridgette when he’d picked up the key to her house earlier, his body thrummed with heat at the sight of her long legs, figure-hugging brown leather skirt, and low-cut white blouse. She trained her gorgeous eyes on him and smiled, sending his body into overdrive. It took all his control to resist taking her in his arms and kissing her.

  “Hi, neighbor,” she said with a sultry tone.

  Dahlia licked Louie’s entire face, earning lots of little-boy giggles. “Guess what, Bodhi? A special friend sent Mommy flowers.”

  “Is that right?” He arched a brow at Bridgette, who mouthed, Thank you.

  “Uh-huh. They’re in the car.” Louie ran into the yard with Dahlia and rolled onto the grass.

  Bridgette stepped closer, her back to Louie. She hooked her finger in the waist of Bodhi’s pants. “Did you know I’ve never been given flowers before, except for my high school prom?”

  “No, but I’m a little jealous of the dude who gave you those.”

  Her sweet, melodic laugh made her even harder to resist. He shoved his hands in his pockets to keep from touching her.

  “I’m serious. I never knew what it felt like to receive flowers. I only know what it feels like to arrange them or grow them. Bodhi,” she whispered, “I thought dancing in my kitchen was romantic, but today I felt like a princess. And your note?” She put her hand over her chest, and her expression turned serious. “You probably shouldn’t do things like that, because you made me all swoony, and swoony isn’t a friends-with-benefits emotion.”

  He shifted his eyes away, feeling like she’d pulled the pin from a grenade. There was no place to take cover, and the worst part was, he’d brought this on himself. He’d stepped willingly into the middle of a battle he wasn’t prepared for.

  Knowing she was right, he said, “I’m sorry.”

  �
�Sorry?” Her brows knitted.

  “I shouldn’t have done it. I won’t do things like that—”

  “Wait. I don’t want you to stop.” She covered her mouth, eyes wide. “That sounded greedy.” She dropped her hand, smiling again, and spoke in a fast whisper. “I meant it’s hard to resist you already, and when you make me swoon, it’s even harder. Please keep doing it. I love how you make me feel, and I know it’s not forever, but I don’t need forever. I like our here and now. I can deal with it.”

  “Thank God,” he said loud enough for her ears only.

  “Did your mother teach you the secret language of flowers?” she asked. “Or did you leave it up to the florist to figure it out for you?”

  His eyes darted over her shoulder to Louie, who had his arms around Dahlia’s neck, hugging her, tweaking Bodhi’s heartstrings even more. “Babe, when it comes to you, there’s no substitute for the real thing. I have a degree in horticulture, and my mother has rattled on about flowers my whole life. Their meanings come as easily as the ABCs.”

  “You have a degree in horticulture? There’s probably a lot about you that I don’t know.”

  “Here and now, beautiful.” Where the words had once sounded right, now they came with regret. He wanted to take her in his arms and reassure her. Instead, he nodded toward her car. “Want help carrying anything inside?”

  “Sure, thanks. I got takeout on the way home.” She opened the car door and handed him the flowers. After grabbing the takeout bags, she said, “Don’t judge my mothering skills by our meals.”

  “Look at your boy.”

  She turned loving eyes to Louie, and her lips curved up in that special smile meant only for a mother’s son.

  “How could anyone judge you as being anything other than an incredible mother?”

  She blushed as they headed up to the porch with Louie and Dahlia on their heels.

  “Look, Louie.” She pointed to the peephole. “Now Mommy can look outside to see who’s at the door without opening it.”

  “It’s either Bodhi or Mike,” Louie said, as if he were bored.

  He glanced at Bridgette. Mike?