Sugar

by Seressia Glass

  “You look different,” Vanessa observed as she accepted a glass of lemonade from Siobhan. Vanessa was impeccably dressed, as always, in a sleeveless sheath sundress and freshwater pearls gracing her ears.

  Siobhan patted her hair, smoothed back into a thick braid. Her one concession to her usual style was the blue artificial hibiscus clipped over her right ear. “I didn’t have time to do my usual style this morning.”

  She and Charlie had lingered in bed after their post-shower kiss and makeup session. He’d loosened her muscles and tightened their emotional connection in the process. With every touch, every kiss, every whisper she had fallen deeper and deeper still. She knew she belonged to him, with him, in a way that she’d never been with her ex.

  “This had nothing to do with your fashion sense and everything to do with girl sense,” Audie told her, eyes twinkling. “You’re in lurve!”

  Her friends circled her, waiting. They probably expected her to deny it or get flustered. She did neither. Instead she smiled. “Yes, I am. We are.”

  As her friends squealed with delight, Siobhan looked toward the deck where Charlie manned the grill and talked with some of his employees. She hardly noticed the others. All she could see was Charlie, his casual skill and grace, his easy presence, the sex appeal so intrinsic to his nature it was like a second skin. Dressed in a bright blue polo shirt and khaki cargo shorts, he still managed to exude a level of confidence and magnetism that rivaled any guy in a power suit.

  As if he felt her gaze, Charlie turned and locked eyes with her. Her breath caught, her senses humming with desire, emotion, and need. Her hindbrain recognized him on an instinctive involuntary level that sent shivers racing along her nerve endings. He smiled then, a smile that promised everything—every comfort, every pleasure. Everything she could want. She smiled back.

  Even with the distance between them, Siobhan could feel the warmth of his stare on her skin, warmer than sunlight and just as necessary. When he tilted his head toward the driveway where her convertible waited, she actually took a step toward him until Nadia caught her elbow.

  “Whoa there,” her best friend chided. “This is your party, remember? You can’t go running off for a quickie in the middle of the party.”

  “I know. I was just—” She broke off. What could she say? “It’s Charlie.”

  “Yeah, we got that.” Nadia shook her head, but grinned. “I think I got a contact high. That was some serious intensity going on.”

  “Now you know what it feels like to watch while you and Kane get into one of your stare-downs,” Siobhan retorted, struggling to steady her breathing and focus on her friends instead of the idea of driving off into the sunset with Charlie. Though her parts were still too tender to entertain the idea of having sex, she still wanted to go off for some quality skin-to-skin time with her man.

  “Damn, woman,” Audie breathed. “Both of you. Is it always like that?”

  “Yes.”

  “No.”

  Siobhan and Nadia looked at each other, then laughed. “Not always,” Nadia admitted. “Though it’s easy to forget you’re in the middle of a crowd sometimes.”

  Audie turned to Siobhan. “When did you realize you had the feels for Charlie?”

  “Two weeks ago.”

  “Two weeks!” Audie shrieked, then immediately quieted. “You went through two Bitch Talk sessions without sharing this news?”

  “I couldn’t tell you guys until I told Charlie,” Siobhan pointed out. “That wouldn’t be fair. I told him after the show last night, and he told me his feelings this morning.”

  “I’m so happy for you, Siobhan.” Vanessa smiled. “So do we need to plan a double wedding?”

  The question flustered Siobhan. “Ah, no. No. I’m nowhere near thinking about stuff like that.”

  “Are you still hung up on the fact that you’re a cougar?” Audie teased.

  “No,” Siobhan answered honestly. “Besides, I’m not a cougar—we’re both in our thirties. Five years isn’t a big deal.”

  “So if you love him and aren’t bothered by your age difference, why are you hesitating?” Audie wanted to know.

  “It’s only been a few months that we’ve been together,” Siobhan pointed out. “I’m still trying to come to grips with staying over at his place and doing you-know-what while the kids sleep a floor above us. Besides, it’s not like I was so good at it the first time around.”

  “Is it his family?”

  “Charlie’s family is great. I love his brothers and sister as if they were my own. I mean, think about it: they could be my own. It’s not Charlie’s family that’s the problem.”

  Nadia’s eyes softened in understanding. “It’s yours.”

  Siobhan stared into her glass. “Of course. I haven’t heard from Colleen all summer, not since I saw her at her graduation. I’ve left messages . . . I’d really like her to meet Charlie and his family, especially Lorelei. I’m hoping Lorelei might be a good influence on Colleen.”

  “They’re the same age, aren’t they?” Vanessa asked.

  Siobhan nodded. “My relationship with Lorelei is completely different from my relationship with my own daughter. It’s not fair to compare them, but I do. I get along great with Charlie’s sister and it makes me feel guilty.”

  Nadia pursed her lips. “What you should feel is the realization that maybe your issues with your family aren’t your fault.”

  Siobhan sighed. It was an old argument between them. “Maybe they’re not entirely my fault, but I have to shoulder some of the blame for what happened, for the inability to mend fences with my parents and with Colleen.”

  Remembering her hostess duties, she left her friends to check on the other guests, then headed inside. The estrangement from her family still haunted her, and would continue to do so. Sure, her therapist was helping her manage the guilt but it hadn’t disappeared. She knew the issues with her daughter and her parents would always be a dark spot in her future happiness if she couldn’t resolve things one way or another.

  Unsurprisingly, she found Kyle in the kitchen overseeing the last of the side dishes they’d prepared together. “Kyle, are you making something else?”

  He inspected the array of dishes on the kitchen island. “No, everything’s ready.”

  “Good.” She pointed to the patio doors. “Get out.”

  “What?” His eyes rounded.

  “You heard me. There’s a swarm of people in your backyard. Finn’s got a bunch of them tossing a Frisbee around. Join them.”

  “But—”

  “Kyle.” She put her hands on his shoulders. “It’s a beautiful day. Go enjoy it.”

  His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed. “You sound like Mom. She was always making us go outside, whether it was working in the garden with her or dragging the whole family to the beach. Twice a year we even went camping. She’d say, ‘The day’s too pretty and my kids are too cute to be stuck inside.’ I haven’t thought about that in a long time.”

  Kyle threw his arms around her for a tight, impulsive hug. “I’m glad Charlie found you.”

  He made a break for the patio doors before she could respond. Not that she could have spoken past the lump in her throat. Kyle brushed past Charlie and she spun around, not wanting him to see the sudden tears that had sprung to her eyes.

  “Hey.” Gentle hands turned her around and she found herself staring up at Charlie, his blue eyes bright. “Looks like I’m not the only one you’re giving good memories to. Thank you for that.”

  “I wasn’t trying to,” she confessed. “I just didn’t want him to be in here stressing out.”

  “I know.” He stroked his thumbs beneath her eyes, capturing her tears. “That makes it even better. If I didn’t already love you, that would have kicked me over.”

  “Charlie.” Her heart trilled at the ease with which he spoke.

  He shook his head ruefully. “There are so many things I want to do and say to you right now. Instead, I’ll tell you that it�
�s time to feed the horde. After that I’m sending the boys to the movies and Lorelei on a date so I’ll have you all to myself.”

  She kissed him once then again, pulling away before she could slip into that sensual place he could always put her. “Looking forward to it.”

  They set the food up on the kitchen island buffet-style and soon everyone had an overflowing plate and had found a spot at one of the tables scattered on the deck and in the yard. Siobhan sat next to Charlie at the picnic table. Though she made small talk with the others, she was hyperaware of Charlie beside her, the brush of his thigh against hers, the low rumble of his voice. She realized she was exactly where she wanted and needed to be, surrounded by friends and family. The day couldn’t get any better.

  When everyone had eaten all they wanted, Charlie climbed to his feet. “First of all, I’d like to thank you all for coming. Celebrating my birthday isn’t something I like to do. Eight years ago we lost our parents pretty close to this day, so it seemed wrong to have any sort of festivities. Two very special ladies convinced me that this was the year to rethink it. So a toast to my sister, Lorelei, for suggesting this party—and talking to my girl about it. They’re the reason you all are here today.”

  He turned to Siobhan, his smile spreading as he pulled her to her feet. “Another toast to Siobhan, the best birthday present a man could hope for. Thanks for the new good memories, love, and here’s to many more.”

  A collective “aww” filled the air, followed by applause as he kissed her. Tears stung her eyes again as emotions buffeted her. Luckily Charlie was there, anchoring her, her shelter from any storm.

  “Happy birthday!”

  Siobhan stepped back, flushed with need and chagrin. They turned as Lorelei slid the screen door open to allow Kyle to step out. He balanced a huge chocolate cake on his palms. The crowd broke into a decent rendition of the birthday song as Kyle proudly delivered the massive sheet cake to their table.

  Shock slapped her as she registered the numbers on the cake. “Charlie?” Her voice quavered. “Is this some sort of joke?”

  “Siobhan,” Charlie began, but Lorelei’s laughter cut him off.

  “Joke? There’s no joke. Charlie’s twenty-six.”

  Twenty-six?

  Good God. There weren’t five years between her and Charlie. There were ten.

  TWENTY-SIX

  Siobhan stood at the sink, elbow deep in suds. She’d held it together during the cutting of the birthday cake, smiling even though those damned number candles mocked her every time she had to look at them. She’d even laughed when her friends threatened bodily harm to Charlie on her behalf.

  “Siobhan.”

  Her shoulders tightened at Charlie’s voice, but she didn’t turn around. “Is everyone gone?”

  “Yes.”

  She hurriedly continued before he could say anything else. “Lorelei and the boys are gone too?”

  “Yes, we’re alone. We can talk now if that’s what you want.”

  She rinsed suds off a dish, then thunked it into the drying rack before going to work on another. She didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to think. Didn’t want to sort through the maelstrom of emotions threatening to choke her. So she did as she’d done with her family, swallowed the pain down and pretended that everything was fine.

  He edged closer. “If it makes you feel better, your friends threatened to take my balls and beat me over the head with them.”

  Her friends. They’d been outraged on her behalf, though they’d toned it down for her sake. He’d duped them too, but they didn’t feel the embarrassment and hurt she labored with. How could they?

  “Sweetheart, please. Say something. Talk to me. Yell at me. Get mad.”

  She finally turned to face him, drying her hands on a towel. “I’m not going to yell at you, Charlie. I’m going to finish the dishes, then I’m going home.”

  He rocked backward as if she’d hit him. At least she wasn’t the only one hurting now. “You said you were okay with our age difference, sweetheart,” he reminded her. Though softness filled his tone, she heard the hurt loud and clear. “I thought you meant it.”

  “Ten years, Charlie,” she said, because she needed to hear the words out loud. “There’s a ten-year age difference between us. Oh God, you’re closer in age to my daughter than you are to me!”

  “So?”

  “So?” she echoed, stunned. “That’s all you have to say? So?”

  “What do you want me to say?” he demanded. “This reaction is exactly why I didn’t tell you. If you’d known I was only twenty-five when we started dating, you wouldn’t have looked twice at me. And I wanted you to look twice.”

  “But you lied to me!”

  “I did.” Misery and determination gripped his expression. “I’m sorry about lying to you. I can’t be sorry about the lie itself.”

  She shook her head, incredulous. “Why do you feel that you had to?”

  He reached out to her but stopped when she drew back. “Why didn’t you tell me at the beginning about going to rehab?”

  She flinched. He grimaced but pressed on. “Why didn’t you tell me from the start, Siobhan? Why didn’t you tell me before I fucked you on your desk? Why didn’t you tell me that first time I saw you dance at Club Tatas?”

  “You know why.” She dug her nails into her palms, needing the physical pain instead of avoiding it. “That’s different.”

  “Is it?” He gathered her hands in his own, preventing her from hurting herself further. “You wanted me to think of you as you, not as a recovering drug addict. It took time for you to come to grips with a five-year age difference. If I’d told you my true age, you would have blown me off. Full stop. Are you going to tell me different?”

  She couldn’t, and they both knew it. She’d been concerned about dating him as it was thanks to their business relationship. Upon discovering that a decade separated them, she would have squashed her infatuation and gone on with her life, and missed out on some of the best months of her life.

  “I wanted you to know me,” he ground out. “I wanted you to like me. I wanted you to want me. Not my fucking age.”

  “I do like you, Charlie,” she answered. “But—”

  “No.” Anger flashed in his eyes. “Not like. Love. You told me that you love me.”

  She pulled free of his grip. “That was before I found out you’re ten years younger than me!”

  “So that changes everything? I’m still the same person I was last night. I’m still the same person I was an hour ago. Can you really turn your emotions off like a switch?” He shook his head. “I can’t. I love you too much.”

  “Charlie.” Tears clogged her throat. “How can you possibly know what love is?”

  His expression hardened. “How does anyone? I watched my parents flirt and laugh like teenagers around each other. My dad called my mom his angel, because he said she was a blessing from above. My mom would pinch Dad’s butt when she thought we weren’t looking. They still held hands when they walked together, up until the day they died. Neither one of them was perfect but they got each other in a way that was amazing and inspiring and stuck with you.”

  He thumped his chest. “That’s how I know. Are you telling me that you knew what love was when you got married at eighteen?”

  She hadn’t had a clue, even though she and Mike had dated for a year before she’d gotten pregnant. Her parents had never openly displayed any affection for each other, so what she knew of love was what she’d read in the romance novels she’d snuck into the house or seen on television. What she’d thought was love for her ex had been hormonal puppy love. She’d had to grow into it, and even now she knew that what she’d felt for her ex-husband was vastly different from what she felt for Charlie. Still felt, despite the shock that numbed her.

  “I know, Charlie. But . . . a decade? It’s hard to get past it.”

  “A decade. Ten whole years. Almost three thousand and seven hundred days, and who the hell knows how many min
utes. What difference does any of that make?”

  “It makes every difference! You should be with someone your own age.”

  “Someone my own age.” He snorted. “Someone right out of college thinking the whole world’s ahead of them like a CW television show? Oh yeah, they’re really going to want to date a guy who’s still raising his brothers and too busy working to put his sister through college to give a flying fuck about her brand of shoes or what movie star is dating what rock star.”

  “Is that why you picked me? Because I’m not fresh out of college?”

  He reached for her hand again. “I didn’t pick you. I walked into your café with a bouquet of flowers for Nadia and I couldn’t see anyone else but you. You in that sexy apron that hugged every dangerous curve and those amazing blue eyes that were happy and sad at the same time. I saw you and I was done. I wanted you and I wanted a chance to get you.”

  “But people—”

  “Do you think I give a crap about people?” Anger hardened his face. “People were all sympathetic when my parents died, then started spreading gossip. People offered their condolences and promises to help, then tried to split us up. People thought I was too young to take care of Lorelei and the boys—Finn was five when we lost our parents, after all. People thought they knew what was best for us, and tried take my brothers and sister away from me and convince me my life would be easier without them. I was eighteen, had just buried my parents, and people wanted to take the rest of my family away. So fuck people.”

  “Charlie—”

  “Fuck. People!” He stepped back, scrubbed a hand over his face. “I don’t give a damn what people think about me, about us. Why do you?”

  The question stopped her in her tracks. Why did she care what people think? She didn’t. She’d been raked over the coals by the people she’d loved most because of her two stints in drug rehab and it left her with little room to care what anyone else thought about her. But Charlie was a different.