Sweet Dreams: A Sugar Rush Sweeter Treat

by Nina Lindsey

  Luke paced to the windows and back. A current ran through his veins, electrifying him with unexpected anticipation.

  “I’m going to ask you one question,” he said. “Would you be Sugar Rush’s interim CEO?”

  Evan blinked. “Are you serious?”

  “If I take a leave of absence, I need someone to step into my position,” Luke explained. “Not only to handle daily operations, but also to close the Alpine deal.”

  “And you want me to do it?” Evan looked as if he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.

  “Seven years you’ve been wanting to do more.” Luke crossed his arms, his gaze steady on his brother. “Now’s your chance.”

  “For how long?”

  “Nine months, maybe a year. Until I get back.”

  Wariness appeared in Evan’s eyes. “Then what?”

  “Then we’ll talk.”

  “No.” Evan shook his head. “I want a deal. You give me a year. I’ll run the company and finish the Switzerland project. If at the end of twelve months, you come back and think I’ve made a mess of things, then I’ll leave. If not, you give me a position I want.”

  Luke extended a hand. “Deal.”

  They shook, firm and certain. A light appeared in Evan’s eyes that hadn’t been there in a very long time.

  “What are you going to do?” Evan asked.

  Luke grinned and turned to the door. “I’m going to get my girl.”

  Chapter 27

  “Non, Polly, too much mixing.” Pierre Lacroix poked at one of the flat macarons Polly had just pulled out of the oven. His bushy eyebrows drew together in displeasure. “You overwork the dough. Recommencez.”

  He strode away. Polly pushed a lock of hair away from her forehead and sighed. Recommencez was a refrain she’d heard multiple times in the week since classes had started. She scraped the macarons into the trash, catching the sympathetic eye of Isabelle, the student at the adjoining workstation.

  At least Polly and her fellow students were all in the same boat, trying to meet the high expectations of the renowned pastry chefs by working on their recipes over and over. She was happy to keep trying as long as it took to please the chefs, but she had yet to become accustomed to their demands for perfection. However, by the end of class, she’d managed to produce a sheet of macarons that, if they didn’t earn a Lacroix smile, didn’t provoke a frown either.

  She cleaned her station, said goodbye to her classmates, and headed outside. She took the long walk back to her apartment, stopping on the Pont des Arts. The gray waters of the Seine flowed around the curve of the Île de la Citè. The bell towers of Notre Dame sat against the cloudy sky like building blocks, the banks of the river lined with elegant stone quays and buildings that resonated with beauty and history.

  She slipped her hand into her satchel for her phone. She wanted—no, she longed to call Luke and tell him all about her first two weeks in Paris. She wanted to talk about the challenging classes and confess that she was still finding her footing in this brilliant city. She wanted him to assure her in his deep, warm voice that it would get easier, and that he’d always be there when she was feeling homesick and needed a friend.

  But he wouldn’t be. And though she could find her way without him, there was no denying that she outright missed him. She was even starting to regret not agreeing to his ridiculous idea of a schedule.

  She let go of the phone and crossed the bridge. She’d get over him…eventually.

  As she walked alongside the Seine, she wondered why she’d ever wanted to be a different version of herself. She’d always been brave, resourceful, scrappy. The only thing she had to find was the courage to realize that she didn’t have to deny her own dreams to follow ones that weren’t hers to begin with. To remember that she had dreams of her own.

  Outside of classes, she spent most of her days learning French and exploring the city—watching tourists and Parisians, visiting museums, local markets, restaurants, and shops. She sent emails and photos to Mia, Clementine, and Hannah, all of whom updated her regularly with assurances that Wild Child was just fine, thank you, and even had a bit of international aplomb now that they were telling everyone that owner Polly Lockhart was off studying pastry-making in Paris.

  Polly stopped alongside the quay when her phone buzzed with a text. She tugged it out of her satchel.

  JULIA: If you fall in love with a Pierre or an Antoine, I will personally curse you.

  POLLY: Your very existence upon this earth is a curse.

  JULIA: True. But I mean it. No Frenchmen for you. At least, not until I’m over this breakup.

  POLLY: You aren’t supposed to like me, remember?

  JULIA: I was starting to soften toward you until you went off to live your life instead of thinking about how it affected me. You’re not wearing jeans, are you?

  POLLY: Uh, no. Of course not.

  JULIA: Hear that? That’s me grinding my teeth. And if you’re wearing tennis shoes, I am personally coming over there to shake some sense into you.

  POLLY: No tennis shoes. Promise.

  JULIA: Wear the blue crepe dress tonight.

  POLLY: I’m not going anywhere tonight.

  JULIA: Yes, you are.

  POLLY: Scorpios don’t have clairvoyant powers.

  JULIA: This one does.

  Polly shook her head with amusement, resisting the urge to ask about Luke. She’d said everything she needed to say to him, and she didn’t need Julia to tell her he was holed up in his office working 24/7.

  Sadness nudged at her. She put her phone away and walked toward the left bank. Her studio apartment was located just off Montparnasse Boulevard in a rickety little building that had once been an artist’s workshop. She crossed the courtyard and stopped at the building’s entrance.

  A row of cellophane-wrapped hard candies were lined up on the steps, a glittering pathway leading to the front door.

  Polly’s heart gave a wild, crazy leap.

  She bent to pick up the candies one by one, putting them into her bag as she walked to the door. The trail continued up the wooden staircase to her apartment. She hurried up the stairs, her hand trembling as she unlocked the door and pushed it open.

  Oh.

  Sugar Rush lollipop trees filled the small room, drenching the air with the smell of chocolate and sweet fruit. Jars of Puffles, Sweeties, Jelly Rolls, Honeybee Toffee, and Cocoa Nibblers sat on the tables and chairs, and candy bars and boxes of chocolates lined the windowsill.

  Her pulse raced. She stood there, not daring to believe or hope that…

  “Hello, Peach.”

  The deep, resonant voice flooded Polly with warmth. She spun toward the kitchen, where Luke stood in the doorway, holding a large glass jar filled with pink, blue, green, orange, and red candies.

  Her breath stopped in her chest at the sight of him—tall and incredibly beautiful in dark trousers and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up past his corded forearms. His thick hair was ruffled, his dark eyes intent and serious, and he was as warm and yummy-looking as chocolate mousse laced with rum and coffee.

  “What…” Polly swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”

  “The concierge let me in after I explained that I wanted to bestow a grand romantic gesture on the love of my life.”

  The love of my life. A thousand sparks flew through her.

  “You mean m-me?” she stammered.

  Luke grinned, his eyes creasing at the corners.

  “The one and only,” he said as he approached her. “Polly Peach.”

  He extended the jar. Their fingertips brushed as she took it from him, the light touch causing a little zinging sensation. Polly lifted the lid of the jar and looked at the rainbow of rock candy inside. She took one out; it was shaped like a heart and multi-faceted, with each angle and surface capturing the light.

  “I haven’t seen these before.” She held the candy up to the window. The sunlight shone through, making the crystal sparkle like a jewel. “Are the
y new?”

  Luke nodded. “They’re called Polly Promises.”

  She lowered her hand and stared at him. “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” Amusement gleamed in his eyes. “Marketing is working right now on packaging and a launch campaign. We’re planning a big push for Valentine’s Day.”

  “But how did you…?”

  “I spent a few days in the test kitchen, making candy and trying to decide if I fell in love with you when I saw you at the Troll’s House or when I realized the fates had put you back in my life, or when you told me I was a control-freak Capricorn. At some point, with Spencer’s help, I came up with Polly Promises. And I realized it didn’t matter when I fell in love with you…the fact was that I just loved you. I love you.”

  He took the candy jar from her and set in on the table, then placed his hands on either side of her neck. The warm, focused look in his eyes as he gazed at her—as if she were the only person who existed in the world—made Polly’s soul want to sing all the songs.

  “I love everything about you,” Luke continued, stroking his thumb gently over her collarbone. “I love your openness, your trusting nature, the way you do everything with your whole heart. I love how your eyes give away everything you’re feeling, even when you try to hide it. I love the interesting ways your hair sticks up in the morning. I love your scent, the sound of your laugh, and that look you give me when I’m being an idiot. I love your body to the point of obsession, and I could spend an eternity learning all the facets of your mind. In other words, you are the glaze on my doughnut, the sugar on my cookie, and the chocolate on my éclair.”

  “Oh my,” Polly breathed, placing her hand on his chest. “That was the most delicious speech I’ve ever heard in my life.”

  “I meant every word. I need you to be mine.”

  “I’m yours. Of course I’m yours.” She let her eyes track over his face, his strong features that were indelibly imprinted on her mind. “But…”

  “I’m here to stay,” Luke said.

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as you’ll have me.”

  Hope rose anew into her heart. “Really?”

  “Yes.” He cupped her cheek, faint uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “I know you’re busy, but I want to be here with you. To make it work.”

  “What about Sugar Rush?”

  “I took a leave of absence for the next year. I delegated all my projects, turned my office over to Evan, shut down my company email accounts, and threw away my business cards.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I’m a man of leisure now, baby,” he said. “I have nothing to do except follow you around Paris while you gaze at old buildings and I gaze at your mighty fine ass.”

  A laugh bubbled into Polly’s throat. Luke smiled, the warmth in his expression flooding her with happiness.

  He was hers.

  “I want us to be together,” Luke said, his voice threaded with urgency. “I want us to have fun, but not just for a few dates. I want us to have fun forever. I want us to live a fairytale. I want to take you everywhere you want to go.”

  “No.”

  He blinked. “No?”

  “I don’t want you to take me places,” Polly said. “And I don’t want you to follow me. I want you to go with me.”

  “Peach,” he murmured, lifting his hands to the sides of her head. “I’ll go with you anywhere. I promise.”

  Their lips met in a kiss that sent her into a cascade of love, spilling like hot butterscotch through her whole body. She slid her fingers into his hair as their kiss grew deeper and hotter. He moved his hands to her hips and backed her up toward the bed situated against the wall.

  She gripped the front of his shirt, bringing him down with her as she fell against the mattress, which enveloped her in a soft, fluffy cloud of—

  Polly jerked away from him, her breath fast as she stared at him in shock. She put her hand on the bed.

  “Is this…”

  “A custom-made Savoir mattress?” Luke pressed his lips across her neck, his touch igniting little fires in her blood. “It might be.”

  “I can’t believe you did this.”

  “That’s not all I did.” He flicked his tongue into the hollow of her throat. “I also cancelled the service on my company phone.”

  “Oh my God.” Polly laughed and stroked her hands down his muscular back. “What have I done to CEO Stone?”

  “You saved him.” Luke lifted his head to gaze at her. “Remember when you told me to find my happiness?”

  She nodded.

  “I did,” he said. “She’s a beautiful, curly-haired pastry chef who changed my life and filled it with everything good. You’re my happiness, Polly Peach.”

  And he kissed her again. Full force.

  Thank you for reading SWEET DREAMS! I hope you enjoyed Polly and Luke’s story.

  Authors always appreciate reviews, if you would please consider leaving a review on Amazon. Thank you!

  For more heartwarming, spicy-sweet stories of love and romance, take a trip to Bliss Cove!

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  Click here to discover LOVE WALKS IN!

  And click here for the super sexy version of SWEET DREAMS!

  WE FOUND LOVE

  A Bliss Cove Romance

  Click here for your FREE copy of WE FOUND LOVE!

  "What will you do with a second chance?"

  "Give me one, and you'll find out."

  She’s Bliss Cove’s favorite bread-baker. He’s an energetic, captivating chef.

  Can soulmates Kate Rochester and Trevor Craig rediscover their passion, or will they be forced to confront the fact that love isn’t enough?

  Journey to Bliss Cove where this hot chef and warm-hearted baker fight to save their match made in heaven.

  About the Author

  Nina Lindsey writes romances filled with heart, heat, and happy endings. She is delighted to introduce readers to Bliss Cove, California, a coastal town with an abundance of warm cookies, ocean breezes, and the ever-present possibility of love.

  Nina loves all things spicy and sweet, with chili chocolates being at the top of the list. She is also a fan of glossy magazines, pop culture, Gilmore Girls, energy bites, Orangetheory, and the sound of silence.

  She lives in Wisconsin with her meteorologist husband (yes, she asks him daily, "What's the weather forecast?”), their two children, an overly energetic dog, and a snail named Pipsqueak.

  www.ninalindsey.com

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  Nina Lindsey, Sweet Dreams: A Sugar Rush Sweeter Treat