I Want Candy (24 page)

Dan got up and left. That’s when Gerrall felt his father grab him by the back of his shirt and pull him up.

“You’re a worthless piece of shit!” his daddy screamed. “I just found out what you were doing over there, you fuckhead! Are you kidding me? She was giving you a cake every night you let her in the back door? You stupid fuck! Now that asshole says he don’t want to do business with us anymore!”

The guys on the line started laughing, and he wasn’t even sure how it started, but pretty soon every dude in the barn was hitting and being hit. It went on for at least fifteen minutes, and Dan tried to break it up, but he ended up kicking more ass than everyone else combined.

Gerrall crawled out while everyone was still fighting and someone pulled off a few rounds from a gun. He dug up his cash box and got some clothes and left. He didn’t know where he was going or what he was going to do, but he’d had enough of this life. He didn’t even care who’d gotten shot that night.

He deserved something better, and so did Candy.

*   *   *

Turner woke up with a start, knowing immediately that he was on his own couch in his own living room but that his whole world had changed. Candy Carmichael was snuggled up in his arms, sound asleep, her freshly washed curls tickling his nose, her ass warm and soft against his left hip, the back of her hand tucked into his open palm. He smiled as the night’s events came back to him—rescuing her from the window, hearing her confession in the truck stop parking lot, bringing her back here so she could store her treasure in his wall safe.

Turner chuckled to himself, thinking about the sight of those long legs and that deliciously round booty hanging out of that window. It was Christmas in July. Finally, he was getting exactly what he’d asked Santa for every year of his life between puberty and graduation—and it was already partially unwrapped.

Candy Pants.

Lord, he’d surely done it now. She was in his arms and in his house and he’d be damned if he’d be letting her go anytime soon. J.J.’s advice echoed in his head for the thousandth time:
Make it worth her while to stay.

The truth was, he had little to entice a woman like Candy, a woman who’d become used to a certain kind of lifestyle. He wasn’t rich. He didn’t live in an exciting cosmopolitan city full of culture and entertainment. He wasn’t a particularly fascinating or charming man. Turner was a cop in the middle of nowhere, battling drunk drivers and meth labs and domestic violence, just trying to find joy in the little things in life—his friends and family, good music, good food, the beauty of the mountains, the comfort and peace of his home.

J.J. was only half right. Turner could make it clear that he wanted Candy, but if she decided to stay in Bigler it would have to be for her own reasons. Candy would have to find something that anchored her here, something important enough for her to want to stay. It might very well be a combination of several things, and if Turner happened to be one of them, great. But he wouldn’t put on some kind of front to get the job done. If she decided she wanted to be with him, Turner needed to be certain it was the real him she was interested in.

He placed his lips on Candy’s hair and let them linger there a long moment. Obviously, the physical part of this was going to be easy. The attraction they already felt for each other was damn near explosive, and Turner was sure that once she gave him the green light, the sex was going to be off the chain. In fact, simply having her close to him like this had pushed his body to the breaking point. He was hard enough to pound nails and he wanted nothing more than to throw her down and devour her.

Which was why he needed to get her into her own bed and out of his lap.

“Candy,” he whispered. “Darlin’, wake up.”

In response, she turned into his chest and her hand flopped into his lap, her fingers grazing against the straining zipper of his work pants.

“Shee-it,” he murmured. “Baby, wake up. You should get in bed.”

“Mmm,” she moaned.

Turner’s eyes began to cross. Maybe he should have left well enough alone. Just then, Candy tilted her head up and her lips grazed the side of his neck.

That was all he could take. In one motion he rose from the couch, turned, and lifted Candy in his arms. He carried her to the guest room and laid her down. It took a minute of tugging, and he might have accidentally brushed his hand against her butt and legs a time or two, but Turner managed to pull the covers down beneath her body so that he could pull them up over her. But before he did so, he paused to gaze at Candy while she slept. She was so long, so lovely, so thoroughly covered in that hoodie and those stretch pants that it made him want to howl in frustration. Her feet were bare, so he admired them for a few seconds, then covered her up.

“Good night, beautiful,” he said, as he kissed her cheek.

It was three
A.M.
, too early to go into the office and too late to pretend he’d be getting a decent night’s sleep. So Turner lay down in his bed in the dark, fully dressed, and stared into the night. It wasn’t long before he felt wave after wave of emotion—loss, grief, desire, loneliness—pummel at his resolve. If he weren’t careful, they’d get the best of him. Not tonight, he told himself. Not with Candy in the next room.

Please, not tonight.

He missed Junie with everything in him. He missed the sweetness of her touch and that look she’d give him when he’d said or done something that crossed the line. He missed the way she smelled and the taste of her skin on his tongue. And he’d never forget her. She was a part of him and would stay in his blood until his last breath.

But that didn’t mean he didn’t have room for another woman in his heart, in his blood, in his being. He knew he did, and the woman he wanted was in the next room. Candy was as different from Junie as two women could be. She was fanciful where Junie was practical. She was disorganized where Junie was precise. She was tall and bodacious and blond where Junie was compact and lithe and brown. Candy was not Junie.

But right there in the darkness, Turner pulled Junie close in his prayers, as he often did, and assured her that he would never attempt to replace her. That would be impossible. But it was time, he told her. He was ready to welcome Candy into his world, not as a substitute for someone else, but for the woman she was.

“I need to live again,” he whispered into the night. “And I want Candy.” With that, Turner pulled off the gold band he’d worn on his left hand for more than six years, and placed it in the bedside table drawer.

He clasped his hands over his stomach and waited for Junie to release him—or for him to release himself. He had no idea what the process would feel like or how long it would take, so he breathed quietly, pictured that smile Candy had laid on him in the SUV that night, and felt his chest open with light. And slowly, so slowly, that empty place he’d been carrying around for four years began to fill with something unexpected, magnificent. It was
joy
. And Turner found himself grinning even as the tears slipped out of the corners of his eyes.

Chapter 16

The cell phone alarm went off as usual, but Candy opened her eyes and froze. Her arms and legs were stretched out on a soft expanse of comfort, not wedged into the shape of Jacinta’s overly stylized sofa. She was in a real bed! In a real bedroom! And the smell of coffee was in the breeze.

She combed her fingers through her hair and staggered out into the hallway, smiling. At some point in the night, Turner had moved her to the bed. He must have carried her, since she had no memory of getting there herself. Something about that made her feel like a princess.

“Turner?” She glanced down the hall to what she figured was his bedroom. The door was open but she saw no movement from within. She went into the kitchen, and saw the note immediately. It was propped up against a clean coffee mug, sugar, and cream already poured into a little pitcher.

“Good morning, beautiful,” it read. “There’s a spare key on the hook near the front door. I hope the coffee is fit for human consumption. Help yourself to anything in the fridge and if all goes to plan I’ll see you at lunch.” He signed it with a big
T.

“P.S.,” he wrote. “You are lovely when you’re asleep.”

With a giggle, Candy pocketed the note and poured herself a cup of coffee. She was dressing for work when she thought she heard the front door open.

“Turner?” she called out. There was no response.

For some reason, Candy suddenly felt terrified. It was ridiculous. She was in Turner’s house. There was nothing to fear. No one would dare hurt her here, if anyone would want to hurt her at all. She didn’t even know where such a ridiculous idea came from.

Candy stepped into hallway and gasped at the large man who loomed over her.

“Excuse me,” he said.

It took her a couple seconds to make the connection. “Reggie Halliday?”

“Absolutely. And you’re Candy Carmichael.”

“I am.” Right about then she started to feel really awkward. “Turner’s letting me stay in his guest room for a couple days.”

“Sure. Of course.” Reggie appeared as uncomfortable as Candy felt. She watched as the big man shifted his weight, tried to smile, then walked toward the kitchen. He placed the large Tupperware container he’d been holding down on the countertop, and shoved his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. “Well. It’s really nice to see you again. You enjoying your time in Bigler?”

“Oh, absolutely.” Candy threw her purse over her shoulder and passed by Reggie on her way to the door, where she remembered to grab a spare key. “It’s great to see you, but I’m late for work. Take care!”

Oh,
Lord
! As she ran to her car, Candy went over the situation in her head. Clearly, Turner hadn’t told his brother that he had a houseguest, just like he hadn’t told his houseguest that his brother was likely to pop in. Candy only hoped she hadn’t made a total fool of herself.

Just as she reached Lenny’s, her cell phone rang. The first call was from Jacinta. “Are you okay?” she screeched before Candy could even say hello.

“I’m fine. I apologize for what happened last night.”

“Well, you certainly know how to make an entrance,” she said, not even bothering to hide her giggle. “You got that Spivey boy fired, you know.”

“I know,” Candy said, cutting the ignition and stepping out of the car. “I feel bad about it.”

Jacinta laughed outright. “Well, don’t! I heard at breakfast this morning that he’s been going around telling everyone you’re his girlfriend. He has a picture of you in his cell phone. He claims you make him special cakes because the two of you are in love!”

Candy nearly dropped the phone. “Are you sure you heard right?”

“Oh, good. It isn’t true.”

Candy’s jaw unhinged. “Mother! Of course it’s not true! My God!”

“Well, that’s what I told people at breakfast but they didn’t listen.”

“Great. Well, I’m late for work.”

“Wait,” Jacinta said. “Listen. I want to talk to you about something. Come out to visit me this week sometime, would you?”

Candy laughed. “Yeah, sure. I haven’t been arrested enough lately.”

“Oh, Miller can stick his bylaws up his big, fat ass,” she said. “My daughter can come by for a visit if she wants. I’d like to see him stop you!”

Great, Candy thought. That sounded fun.

She’d just ended the call with Jacinta when Cheri called.

“Is it true?” she asked, out of breath.

“Uh…” Candy was afraid to ask exactly what she was referring to, though she had a good idea. “You mean the window thing?”

“Oh, my God! I told J.J. that there had to be a mistake! But he read about it in the overnight police reports. Are you all right?”

She had been until that second. “Please tell me it’s not going to be in the paper.” Candy pulled open the employee door to find Lenny waiting for her. “Cheri, I’m going to have to call you back on my break.”

“No!” she shouted into the phone. “You can’t! What happened? You’ve got to tell me.”

“Nothing happened,” Candy answered Cheri as she nodded to Lenny. “I got locked out of Jacinta’s apartment and tried to get in through the window, but it turned out to be her neighbor’s apartment and the old buzzard called the police. It was a simple misunderstanding.”

Right then, Lenny started to laugh. The laugh turned into a howl. The howl turned into a guffaw.

“I gotta go,” Candy said. She hung up on Cheri and clocked in. She felt Lenny’s hand on her shoulder.

“Can I just say how much I enjoy you working for me?” he asked.

“Sure,” Candy said. “Go ahead.”

“I already did!” Lenny said, continuing to laugh as he disappeared into the kitchen.

*   *   *

One of the reasons Turner chose to pursue a law enforcement career in his hometown was the pace. Compared to a major city, Bigler was downright boring, which gave Turner the latitude to focus on one thing at a time and really sit down with folks in their time of trouble and try to get them back on their feet. A small-town job gave him room to think.

But on that particular morning, Bigler might as well have been the Big Apple.

J.J. was waiting for Turner in his regular spot, a look on his face that guaranteed a lively encounter. “Morning, Jay,” Turner said, jogging up the back steps to the municipal building.

“Sheriff,” J.J. said, falling into step with Turner as they made their way through the early-morning hallways. “Sleep well?”

Turner ignored him. He greeted Bitsy, accepted a stack of mail from her hands along with a mug of fresh coffee. “You’re my girl, Bits,” Turner said to his secretary, smiling. “Close the door behind you,” he said to J.J.

“So.” J.J. sat in the chair across from Turner’s desk. “Seems you had an interesting night.”

“Kinda slow, really,” Turner answered him, sorting his mail. “I think a lot of people stayed indoors because of the rain.”

“Right, yeah, except for the ones who were kind of half indoors and half outdoors. You know, like hanging out of a window.”