by T. R. Cupak
“Look at me, Sugar.” His voice was so low it caused me to shiver. That annoyed me. I was falling apart and his voice made me feel like a silly girl. One thing I knew for sure was that he wasn’t going away until I faced him. Maybe if I let him see my ugly cry or experience how socially inept I was, he’d vanish willingly. Or perhaps he was thinking that I still worked here and he needed my signature or had another question.
Turning, I took a deep breath before looking up at him.
His eyes studied me so closely and for such a long time without speaking that it rattled me. As it was, my emotional state was already in shambles. I needed some space.
“Let’s go,” he finally said.
“What?” I asked, not sure if I heard him correctly.
His hand closed around my arm. “Give me your keys. We’re leaving.”
I thought about asking “what” again, but I was tired — too tired to care. I handed him the keys and walked around to the passenger side. This seemed strange. He was working and we were both getting into my car.
“You’re working,” I finally said as he started the car.
“I’m finished. Donny has it now,” was his feeble explanation.
He backed out and took the road out of town. I watched in silence as we passed the houses and the view changed to just trees. Soon we’d be on the long country road leading towards Richmond.
“Where are we going?” I asked him.
“Away from this. You need a distraction before you have a nervous breakdown.”
He was right. “Why are you doing this?”
Ansel grinned at me then looked back at the road. “I serve and protect. That’s in my job description.”
Any other time that would be corny, but Ansel’s response, surprisingly, made me laugh.
“There we go. Laughter. I like the sound of that. Laughter’s much better than that pale, lost look from earlier, when I thought you were going to faint.”
I sighed at the reminder of why I was in this car letting him drive me God-knows-where. “She’s closing the store and retiring. Selling out. She’s done.” I needed to say, to hear, to accept that. I also wanted to explain my earlier behavior.
He winced. “Damn, I’m sorry, Sugar.”
“As am I. I love that place. It was all I had. It wasn’t just my job . . . that business was my plan. I wanted to buy it from her one day . . . just not today. I’m not ready yet.”
“You can’t talk her into keeping it open in her name until you’re ready?”
I shook my head. “No. She’s excited about the decision. She wants more time with her grandchildren. And she wants to be retired.”
He didn’t respond right away, but a serious expression hung on his face. It was distracting. Before long, Ansel slowed and turned right onto a dirt road. Where were we going? He was a cop so I didn’t think that he was taking me off to the woods to murder me. Still, I was uneasy.
A log cabin appeared in a clearing with a lake behind it. The woods gradually changed into a manicured lawn landscaped by the natural surroundings. I searched for another car. There was nothing. No one here but us.
“Where are we?”
“I intended to take you on a ride to talk and get your mind off things. But there’s tequila, vodka, whiskey, and also a bottle of red wine inside. I have a small pier out back. It’s nothing special, but the lake offers a nice peaceful view. I figured you needed a drink and something picturesque to focus on. It won’t fix your current shit storm, but it can block it out for a while. That, or you could drink enough to not care until sober again.”
He parked and climbed from my car. I watched as he walked around the front and came to my side to open the passenger door.
“Come on, Sugar. You’re safe here, I swear. Come see the reason I bought this place. The view is really something.”
He didn’t have any neighbors.
I barely knew him.
But people saw us get in my car and drive off together. They knew he was taking me somewhere. No one seemed alarmed. If I went missing, he’d be suspect number one. Of course, he already knew this. And his pretty face made it hard not to trust him. My mother would be furious with me for getting out of this car alone in the middle of nowhere. Check that, she’d lose her mind if she learned I’d gotten in the car with a virtual stranger to begin with. It wouldn’t matter that he was a policeman.
“Get out your cell phone. Call the police station,” he said with a grin.
“Why?” I asked, feeling like he’d read my thoughts.
“Call them, Sugar.”
I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to say whenever they answered.
“When they answer, hand me the phone,” he instructed.
I did as he said. They picked up and I gave my phone to him.
“It’s Mullroy. I’ve got the owner of this number with me at my house. Can you let her know that y’all are aware of her location? She’s a smart woman and refuses to leave the safety of her vehicle with a man she barely knows. I would probably also be a little paranoid if I was in her position.”
He smiled at whatever the woman who answered was saying. Then he handed me the phone.
“Hello,” I said, my eyes still on Ansel’s face.
“We have your current location, Sugar Taylor. It’s smart to be cautious. And even though this is being recorded I have to say . . . lucky you.”
“Uh, thank you.”
The call ended and I climbed out of the car. Ansel backed up. He asked, “Sugar, do you feel safe now?”
I replied, “Yes, I do,” appreciating the way he’d gone above and beyond to ease my fear.
Chapter Five
“What’s your poison?” Ansel asked. “Didn’t see you drinking last night.”
I stood in the living room, the very masculine living room with its black leather furniture and a gray rug. There were no throw pillows or photos scattered around. Nothing personal could be seen. It was like a vacation lodge decorated for renters, rather than an actual home space.
“I don’t drink much or very often, so I’m not sure,” I replied. “It’s a little early to be drinking, isn’t it?”
Ansel chuckled. “When you’ve had a shit day it’s never too early.” He began fixing something at the bar in the left corner of the room. I continued to search for something to indicate this was his home. Not that I didn’t believe him; it just seemed empty of warmth. What I was looking for was anything that allowed me to begin understanding who this man was. By contrast, my place had photos, books, and color everywhere. It was Sugar Taylor in a nutshell, and a person could tell a lot about me by walking inside my apartment and quickly glancing around. Here, that was impossible.
“Try this,” Ansel said, holding a bar glass with a pink drink on ice.
“What is it?” I asked. My eyes were glued to his.
“Trust me and try it first,” he replied with a smirk.
I considered the dangers of drinking from the glass, although the police knew where I was and one of their own had prepared it. What the hell, I took the drink and sipped, surprising myself with the impulsive decision, which was so far beyond my normal boundary of craziness.
It wasn’t too sweet and was slightly carbonated, with a refreshingly biting taste. Not bad at all. Gemma had never ordered me drinks like this before. I always hated the swill she had me try.
“This is nice,” I said.
“Club soda with a splash of cranberry juice and a single shot of vodka.”
Oh. I didn’t think I liked vodka. I must’ve had it mixed another way. This, I loved.
“Thank you,” I replied, already feeling a little relaxed after a single sip.
“Let me grab a beer and we can go sit on the pier. You can talk if you want to. If not, we can drink in silence. It’s pretty enough out there that words aren’t required.”
Part of me wanted to see the rest of the house, maybe find something of Ansel’s kept in another area. Still, I didn’t ask. I followed him t
o the side door and into the back yard. A beer was suddenly in his hand. He was right — the lake was breathtaking with the foliage around it and the mountains behind it, everything like a photograph. The air smelled like autumn and it felt like he owned his own piece of heaven.
“Wow,” I said. What I truly thought seemed inadequate.
“It’s something else,” he agreed.
The short pier had a wide two-person lounger with gray cushions for comfort. He really liked black and gray. Ansel swept away the leaves that had fallen on it then held out his hand. “After you, Sugar.”
It felt almost like a large bed tilted into a reclined sitting position. The lounger certainly reminded me of one. My cheeks felt a little warm. I wasn’t sure if it was the thought of being on something so similar to a bed with Ansel right beside me, or the vodka I wasn’t used to drinking, but I was getting nervous, so I took a larger gulp.
He sat down beside me and commenced with an explanation. “I bought this place last year after my grandfather passed away and left me more money than I needed. He would’ve loved being here. We’d have sat on this pier for hours with beers and cigars. He’d have fished the days away. Then he died and this felt like a good way to spend some of the money he thought that I should have.”
Ansel didn’t need to explain how a cop could afford a place like this but it was a good story. I was glad he told me. It was better than seeing a photo perched on his mantel.
Being honest, I replied, “Ansel, that’s a beautiful reason.”
He didn’t say anything so we sat there in silence for a while. The subtle sounds of the water, the birds, and the falling leaves were as peaceful as I’d ever experienced, just like he’d said it would be. My morning had been terrible — the worst I’d had in a long time. But the day had steadily improved and my afternoon was looking great.
My empty glass brought me from my thoughts. “I’ll refill it,” he said, standing up before I could tell him no. One had relaxed me enough. I was good, feeling fine. But before I could say anything, he was headed back to the house.
So, I reclined and accepted Ansel’s service. I was going to drink two alcoholic beverages on a Sunday afternoon and I didn’t even care. A gorgeous policeman was bringing me drinks while I lounged on his pier overlooking his lake. Maybe I wasn’t awake? This was so out of character for me. It seemed a bit too perfect, certainly not the normal I was accustomed to. I’d never done something like this.
Ansel returned with my glass and one for himself. He’d switched from beer to whiskey. I could smell the amber liquid. My drink, once again, was as tasty as the first. “Thank you,” I said.
He replied, “Sugar, you’re welcome.”
“I mean for all of this. I know tomorrow I have to face figuring out how to deal with my sudden life adjustment, but for now it’s nice to not think about it.”
“Don’t thank me, Sugar. I’ve had a hard time getting you out of my head since last night. Today when I turned around and there you were, I thought the gods were giving me a second chance. After that, I was struggling to do my job while figuring a way to ask you on a date without seeming like a jerk because your store was demolished. Coming here was mostly for you, but there were also selfish reasons involved.”
Maybe that was a confession of some sort? Still, it made me smile. My desire to giggle was probably thanks to the vodka. I didn’t feel awkward at all. My slight tipsiness and warm glow felt . . . a whole lot better than before.
“Is that funny?” he asked with amusement.
I shrugged and grinned then took another drink.
“As cute as this is, I think you should stop at drink number two. You’re a lightweight and will have to train for a third.”
I agreed. That was a good idea.
“Did you grow up here?” he asked, changing the subject.
“Mom moved us here when I was thirteen. I decided to go to the University of Richmond. She met a man and fell in love before moving to Tennessee. I stayed here since my life was here when she left. Now, I’m not sure where it is.” Leaving hadn’t occurred to me until that moment. Ken was here. The bookstore was here. But they were both in the past. Was it time to leave?
“It’s a beautiful place. I can see why you stayed. Tennessee might not have been for you.”
I laughed. “Oh, I love my mama, but I won’t be moving to Tennessee if I ever leave here. I’d go north. Maybe New Hampshire? I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it until right now.”
Ansel shook his head slightly and sighed. “Damn. And I gave you the idea.”
After turning my body towards him, I took another sip, wanting to smile, happy in this moment. I decided that drinking was nice. Pleasantness seemed to come with imbibing. “What do you think I should do?” I was serious, or as serious as I could be, considering the alcohol.
Ansel looked at me. He didn’t respond right away. I knew he was thinking about his answer, considering what to say. I liked that. He didn’t just blurt stuff out. He thought about it first. Ken would just speak without thinking because he thought he was always right.
“My first instinct is selfishness, which makes me want to say that you should stay here.” His drawl was smoother than the vodka. “But what matters most is, what do you want out of life? Can you find that here?”
That shouldn’t have been a difficult question to answer, but it was, because I didn’t know anymore. Everything had changed. My original plans didn’t fit what had happened.
“I don’t know,” I replied.
He leaned in closer to me, and I think my heart skipped a beat. Warmth was everywhere. Then that warmth made me sweat. “Sugar, you have time. There’s no reason to make any sudden decisions. Mull it over. Think it through.”
He was right. Life changed. I needed to move with it and adapt as it came. Cementing a long-term plan this instant was just short of lunacy. However, his nearness made it hard to respond. The smell of whiskey and mint was on his breath and that was more exciting than it should be. That shouldn’t be appealing, though I was beginning to think it might be delicious.
“You sit out here and enjoy this. I’ll go baste some ribs for dinner. Being here with you looking at me like that . . .” —he paused and shook his head with a sexy grin on his face— “is not a good idea.” Then he reluctantly stood. After a glance back at me, he walked away. Heavily exhaling with a breathy laugh he muttered, “damn, Sugar.”
“Yeah . . . damn,” I whispered in agreement before sipping my drink and smiling.
Chapter Six
I wasn’t sure when I fell asleep or how long I’d been sleeping when I was awakened by a warm body brushing against me. For a moment I was confused as to where I might be. I blinked. The sun was setting in the west and its orange and red casting glow was bathing the lake’s surface.
The sound of “hmm” beside me drew my attention away from the view in front of me. Turning my head while still feeling a bit rankled, I saw Ansel’s grin and staring eyes there in the falling light. It all came back. The store. The policeman. The vodka.
“Hey,” I said, my voice raspy from sleep.
“Hey,” he replied. “Nice nap?”
I wasn’t sure. The buzz from the vodka had faded and my thoughts were somewhat clearer. “Um . . . yes. How long was I asleep?” I asked, feeling embarrassed and woozy before all this beauty.
He knew how I felt. “Not long at all, Sugar. I brought you some water two hours ago.”
He’d been cooking for me. I’d been out here sleeping. Covering my face with my hand I sighed. “I’m sorry. Must have been the vodka.”
“No need to apologize. I had a beer and enjoyed the view.”
He seemed very relaxed. Not in a rush to eat the food he’d prepared. Me sleeping was no big deal to him. He’d changed into jeans and his long legs were stretched out and crossed at the ankles. I tried not to focus on his attractive bare feet. It was weird to think that his feet were beautiful. They were feet. Was that even possible?
“After resting for a while, do you feel better about things?” he asked.
I’d awakened thinking about it. My future had options now. Deciding which path I wanted to take was the hardest part.
“I’m less emotional about it. The reality of everything needed to sink in. That has happened.” There was a chance that it would all knock the breath out of me again the next time I was alone. Ansel made things seem easy. He had to be the most relaxed police officer that I’d ever met. Although, I hadn’t met many cops, and the number I had drank and napped at their homes was even smaller.
“Are you hungry? Ready to eat?”
I was. The mention of food made my stomach rumble. “Yes. That sounds good.”
Ansel stretched and stood. I began to follow him when he lowered his hand. I stared at his palm. Then I gave him mine. At least this way I wouldn’t do something awkward like stumble and fall in the water. I was prone to such idiocies.
His larger hand enveloped my smaller one. I tingled and shivered and covered it up by saying, “It’s getting cooler.” Once I was firmly planted on two feet we were close. Closer than we’d been on the lounger. I could feel his chest rise with each breath he took.
Ansel didn’t move back to give either of us space. “Fuck it,” he said in a purring voice just before his hands moved to my waist and pulled me against his frame. I knew what was happening yet there was no time to get nervous or think it through. His mouth covered mine. I discovered that, as much as I didn’t like beer, the taste of it on his lips was nice. R-e-a-l-l-y nice. Now, I didn’t hate beer. Ansel could smell and taste like a bar — hell — the floor of a bar, and he’d still be pleasant.