by Nina Lindsey
“They’re based on a French fruit candy called calissons.”
“Where do you stay when you visit Paris?” She popped the red Jelly Roll into her mouth, enjoying the burst of sweet cherry.
“One hotel or another,” Luke said. “Wherever the secretary books a room.”
He made it sound like he was visiting Podunk, Nowhereville, and staying at the Motel 6.
Polly had thought she had missed out on a lot of youthful adventures, but she was only twenty-five years old. She had a lot of time left to see the world and have new experiences—at least the possibility was there even if she didn’t have the resources to do any of that anytime soon.
Luke hammered out another text or email on his phone. A crease furrowed the space between his dark eyebrows, and a slight frown curved his mouth.
He needed to nap in a hammock under the trees, to feel the sunlight filtering through the leaves and a breeze drifting over his skin. She needed that too.
He glanced up, as if sensing her gaze on him. “What?”
“When you were a kid,” Polly said, “what did you want to be when you grew up?”
Luke gave a humorless laugh. “I can’t remember that far back.”
“Sure you can.” She poked his leg under the table with her foot. “At various times, I wanted to be a firefighter, a magician, a veterinarian, and queen of the sky island of Cerulia. Not necessarily in that order.”
“So which one took precedence?”
“Well, I ended up majoring in history in college. But mostly so I could have an excuse to do a year abroad in Paris.”
“And did you?”
She shook her head. “I was going to, but then my mother got sick, and I came back to Rainsville to be with her.”
Something flickered in his eyes. “So you left college.”
“I had to. I wasn’t going to leave my mother to face cancer alone. But when I’m finished at Hartford, I’ll be a certified pastry chef. If I have better qualifications and can get Wild Child back on its feet, I hope to expand into catering and wedding cakes. Maybe even open an online shop.”
Maybe even go to Paris one day.
No one ever said dreams had deadlines, though Luke might not understand that. Even his romantic relationships had deadlines.
“So what did you want to be when you grew up?” she asked again.
He was silent for a moment as he leafed through one of her textbooks. “I wanted to pitch for the San Francisco Giants.”
“Really?”
He nodded. “I actually got into Stanford on a partial baseball scholarship. Played for three years until I had to leave.”
“You left Stanford?”
“My mother died.” A shadow crossed his face. “She was killed in a car accident, and my sister was badly injured. Our family was a mess after that. And when other corporations heard what had happened, they thought Stone Confectioners would weaken. They started rumors of a takeover after we rejected their sales offers. And my father was focused on my sister’s recovery, so I dropped out of Stanford and moved back to Indigo Bay to take over as CEO.”
“What did your dad say about you leaving?”
“He didn’t find out until it was already done. And then it was too late.”
Silence fell, edged with a faint sadness over dreams about baseball and sky islands that never had a chance to take root.
“We both left college because of things that happened to our mothers,” Polly said, struck by both the coincidence and the realization that perhaps it was just one of the reasons she’d been so drawn to him. She’d seen herself—the responsible, hard-working sibling who’d put her family first—reflected in him.
“Yeah.” Luke gazed at her, and it almost seemed as if the same recognition appeared in his eyes. “Strange, huh?”
“There’s a belief that our souls guide us to certain people because something in them reminds us of ourselves or because there’s something we have to learn from them,” Polly said. “It’s an attraction of energies, the seeking of fulfillment. Sometimes opposites attract, but sometimes likes attract. We like each other, and we’re also alike. So, on one level it’s not so strange after all.”
Faint bemusement tightened his features. “You’re very different from me, Peach.”
“How?”
“You’re warm. Trusting. Open. Friendly.”
“So are you. You’re just a little more guarded, that’s all.”
He shook his head with a laugh. “A little more, huh?”
“We have some differences, of course,” Polly said. “But on a fundamental level, we’re…”
She paused, realizing she was about to say the same. But that would be like telling him they were soul mates, which they couldn’t be given the fact that he could make no promises to her.
“We’re similar,” she finally said, handing him a blank piece of paper. “I’ll prove it. Write down your favorite Jelly Roll flavor.”
Still baffled, he picked up a pen. Polly took another piece of paper and shielded it with her arm as she wrote down her favorite flavor.
“On the count of three, we reveal our answers,” she said. “One two three.”
They both put their papers in the middle of the table. Side by side, written in his scrawled handwriting and her curly letters, were the words: Cherry vanilla.
She gave him a triumphant grin. “See?”
“Well,” Luke said, his voice deep with amusement, “far be it from me to deny the proof of candy.”
He reached over to take a few cherry vanilla Jelly Rolls, then picked up her open confectionary textbook.
“Speaking of candy,” he said. “If you’re going to ace this test, you’d better keep studying. I’ll quiz you.”
He went over to flop on the sofa, stretching out with one bare foot on the coffee table. His sheer size and masculinity were a striking contrast to the floral sofa, but he looked relaxed in her little apartment. Like he was at home. And given their similarities, it made sense that he would feel comfortable in the surroundings that she’d created.
“What is the approximate density of a marshmallow?” He popped the Jelly Rolls into his mouth.
“Between point two five and point seven grams per milliliter.”
“What are the basic ingredients of nougat?”
“Lecithin, DMG, and sugar ester,” Polly said. “Which helps stabilize the emulsion.”
Luke tossed out more questions, leafing through the book and a few of the papers Polly’s teacher had assigned. Finally he put them all on the coffee table and sat up.
“You’ll be top of the class, Peach.” He lifted his arms above his head for a stretch. “You’ll have to come work for me after you graduate.”
“Why, Mr. Stone, are you offering me a job?” Polly pushed up from the table and approached him.
She let her gaze slide admiringly over his body, lingering on his shirt stretched across his broad chest and shoulders. His tie hung loosely around his neck, and the first few buttons of his shirt were undone, revealing a tempting V of tanned skin.
“Sure.” Luke grabbed her around the waist, tugging her down onto his lap. “You can be my personal assistant.”
A rush of warmth filled Polly. She settled herself on his thighs. “You already have an assistant.”
“Not a personal assistant.” Luke’s hand slid up her leg. “You can be in charge of walking around my office and occasionally bending over to pick something up off the floor.”
She gave him a light smack on the cheek. “Pig.”
“What? I’ll give you all the candy you want.”
“Hmm. Sounds like you’ll want the same thing from me.”
“And who could blame me?” His eyes crinkled with a smile.
Pulling her closer, he pressed his lips against hers. Pleasure filled Polly as their mouths sealed together in a warm, lovely kiss that held the promise of more. He lifted his hand to cradle the side of her face before trailing his lips down to the hollow of her thr
oat. She eased back into the strong circle of his arm and gave herself up to the heat flaring between them.
He made a noise low in his throat, tension coiling through his muscles as he brought his mouth to hers again. He tasted all sweet and sugary, like cherry jellybeans, but the tension radiating from him was anything but sweet. It was all hard male urgency.
Polly parted her lips under his and spread a hand over his chest. She didn’t know much—well, anything—about men’s clothing, but even she could tell that his shirt was made of the finest textured cotton, with the cut fitting his body to such perfection that it had to have been custom-tailored just for him.
He cupped her breast, the warmth of his palm burning through the thin cotton of her T-shirt. He eased back, his gaze hot on hers. “Okay?”
Polly’s heart fluttered with both excitement and a touch of anxiety.
“Okay,” she breathed, bringing their lips together again. “Yes.”
They indulged in another hot sweeping kiss that melted her inside. Cupping his hands under her rear, Luke stood and lifted her against him in the same movement. After striding to the bed in the corner, he lowered them both to the mattress. His eyes smoldered as his mouth crashed down on hers.
Polly arched upward, wanting every part of her body to touch his. He muttered her name, lowering his head to press his lips across her cheek, down to her neck. When he pushed his hands under her T-shirt, the sensation of his warm, strong touch on her bare skin fired her with heat.
Breathless, she let him take off her clothes and bra before bringing her trembling fingers to the buttons of his shirt. Her mouth went dry as she slowly revealed his smooth, muscular shoulders, and the gorgeous slopes of his pecs leading down to his rigid abdomen.
When he pulled his boxers off, she gasped aloud. A chuckle rumbled through his chest as he straddled her, his hands caressing every part of her body. He licked a drop of sweat at the hollow of her throat before moving lower to her breasts.
“Oh my God,” she gasped, driving her hands into his thick hair. “That feels so good.”
“You feel so good,” he murmured. “Soft and sweet, and you smell like a damned flower garden…”
She threaded her fingers into his thick, dark hair and held him against her as he stroked his hand up her leg and between her thighs. A breathless moan escaped her when his fingers pressed lightly against her, rubbing the material of her panties into her cleft.
Electric sparks shot to her core. He tangled his fingers in the waistband of her panties, stripping them swiftly off her legs. He tossed them to the floor and sat up, his hot gaze raking down her naked body.
Polly squirmed, yearning for him to fill her, to ease the empty ache.
“Please,” she begged.
After fumbling for his wallet, he tore open a foil packet and rolled a condom over his erection before edging between her legs. Sweet, hot sensations rolled through her whole body.
He pressed forward slowly, as if he were afraid of hurting her. And oh, God, the easy, slick immersion was the sweetest torture. She moaned, writhing underneath him. He stilled for an instant before he began guiding her into a smooth, easy rhythm, letting the cadence of their bodies set the tone.
The world shimmered at the edges and disappeared. Pleasure flooded her, filled her with bright, flowing colors. Digging her fingers into his smooth back, she closed her eyes as her urgency built in agonizingly slow increments.
A cry tore from her throat when bliss exploded over her nerves. He lowered his mouth to hers, sweeping his tongue between her lips. His muscles tightened. He surged inside her with a rough groan, his own body shuddering with release.
Luke collapsed on top of her, their breathing hard and their bodies damp with sweat. Polly wrapped her arms around him. She tingled all over.
With a grunt of satisfaction, he rolled off her, reaching out for her with one arm. She shifted to her side and landed right up against his body—which was lovely but also a little embarrassing since gravity invariably rolled all sleepers into the deep sag curving the middle of the mattress. Not that Luke seemed to mind, considering the way he pulled her right into the sag with him.
“It’s not your Savoir bed,” she felt compelled to remark apologetically.
“As long as you’re in it, I’ll sleep in any bed.”
With a smile, she curled up against him and rested her head on his chest. As she drifted into sleep, she had the vague thought that she was going to have to come up with something spectacular to beat this particular exercise in fun.
Polly woke when dawn light threaded through the curtains. Feeling warm and sated, she rolled over to grab her T-shirt and panties off the floor. After pulling them on, she used the bathroom and emerged to find Luke sitting at the kitchen table, his attention on his phone.
She leaned her shoulder against the doorjamb and took a minute to admire the way he looked, his hair sleep-tousled and his gorgeous body clad only in trousers and his white shirt, all the buttons unfastened to reveal a tantalizing glimpse of his chest.
He glanced up and met her gaze. Heat sizzled through the air.
“Really?” Polly asked dryly. “Other people are actually up at this hour to take your calls?”
“They don’t take my calls,” he replied. “I take theirs. They wait for mine.”
“So is that what I should do?” She stalked slowly toward him. “Wait breathlessly by the phone for a call from the eminent Luke Stone?”
“It would be advisable.” He slanted a glance at her as she approached.
She took his phone and set it aside before pushing her way between him and the table to straddle his lap. He was wearing his trousers, and the sensation of the expensive material felt rather delicious against her bare thighs.
After wiggling a little to get comfortable, earning herself a muffled groan from Luke, she draped her arms over his shoulders and looked him in the eye.
“If I told you to clear your schedule for Saturday night because I plan to take you out on a date, would you do it?” she asked.
He hesitated for an instant. Polly poked him in his rock-hard abdomen.
“Would you do it?” she repeated.
“I’ll have to see what’s on the calendar,” he said. “But I’ll make every effort.”
“You’d better do more than make an effort. Because I’ll be at your house Saturday night whether you want me to be or not.”
“I can make you no promises,” Luke said.
Polly tried to ignore the sense that that remark was a reminder of something more serious than a night out.
“Promise me Saturday night,” she said.
He reached around her to grab his phone from the table.
“You’re kind of a pain in the ass,” he muttered, scrolling over the screen. “I have a meeting at four to look over a downtown building for a retail site, but I can clear my schedule after six.”
“Give me that.” She took the phone from him and pulled up his calendar for Saturday night. In the six o’clock slot, she typed Go on a date with Polly and hope I get lucky.
She handed him the phone back. He looked at the screen, his eyes crinkling with amusement.
“I don’t hope I get lucky with you,” he said.
“You don’t?”
“Nope.” He rubbed his nose against hers. “I’m already lucky with you.”
Polly smiled. She eased back and threaded her fingers through his hair, brushing it away from his face. His gaze slipped down to the pendant she still wore on a silver chain around her neck. He lifted the pendant into his palm and studied the flashes of blue, green, and gray embedded in the stone.
“It’s a Labradorite crystal,” Polly explained. “The Inuit people believe it fell from the fires of the Northern Lights. It’s meant to protect my aura from negative energies.”
“Your aura, huh?”
“Everyone has an aura. It’s the energy field that surrounds all living creatures and contains their essence. My friend Ramona said mine
is damaged, so she gave me this stone as protection.”
“And you think it works?” Luke let the stone fall back against her chest.
“I’d be foolish to claim it didn’t,” she replied. “My mother always said not to deny something exists just because you can’t see it or it can’t be proven scientifically. There are too many mysteries in the world. Things you can’t explain by science or logic.”
“Like what?”
“Grace,” Polly said. “Mercy. Faith in a divinity that no one has ever seen. Hope even when a situation seems hopeless. Love.”
Luke shook his head, his expression skeptical. “There’s no mystery to love.”
“How would you know? Have you ever been in love?”
“No. It’s all just pheromones and endorphins.”
“Oh, my God.” Polly laughed and draped her arms around his shoulders again. “You are such a cynic. You’re going to be one of those old curmudgeons sitting on your front porch, shaking your fist and yelling at the neighborhood kids to get off your lawn.”
“Good thing I met you first then, huh?” Luke brushed his thumb rhythmically across her collarbone. “Maybe you can save me from that fate.”
“As long as I’m on your schedule,” she murmured, “I’ll save you.”
She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his. As they indulged in another long kiss, she felt as if she were spiraling upward into sugar-laced clouds, her whole being filling with sweetness, rainbow sprinkles, and an emotion that felt remarkably close to happiness.
Chapter 13
Despite the fact that Polly hadn’t gotten much sleep the night before, she sailed right through her test on aerated confections and nougat, successfully completed a pectin jelly exercise in her Jellies and Gummies lab, and learned about two new tax exemptions she could claim in her tax preparation class.
By the time she arrived at Wild Child to take over the afternoon shift from Clementine, she was feeling both productive and still all loosely warm from her night with Luke. She was sore in an entirely pleasant way, and it seemed as if thick, rich honey had replaced the blood in her veins. Not to mention her mind kept drifting off to replay the taste of his hot cherry-vanilla kisses, the glide of his big hands over her skin—