Just Desserts (3 page)

Their raunchy pillow talk had her flustered, or was it Quinn’s laser-like vision? Her cheeks burned. She clutched the recycled grocery sack over her shoulder and perused the veggies on the table. Sadie ripped off a full stem of chard and fanned it in front of her face. “I’m busy.”

Lindy looked at her skeptically.

“I’ll come when I’m invited. If Sadie’s occupied, then maybe we’ll get together another time,” Quinn said.

Sadie felt harried by his seductive scrutiny and innuendo. She stumbled and bumped into the corner of Lindy’s produce table.

Quinn draped his arm over her shoulders to steady her. Snug against his chest, his warmth was heady. When the back pocket of her denim mini-skirt vibrated, she let out a grunt and swallowed an orgasmic sounding moan.

“My cell—it’s on—it—oscillates .” She stepped away from Quinn and his mind-bending testosterone and avoided the word vibrate.

Bryan: Where r u? Here at market

She pivoted around and scanned the line of farmers’ stalls under the big top tent.

“Sadie, what’s going on? What was on the
oscillating
cell phone?” Lindy chided.

“Bryan. He’s finally here.”

Quinn leaned against the table and thumbed back the husk tip of an ear of corn.

Sadie’s body temp cooled down since the corn had Quinn’s undivided attention.

“Woo-hoo,” Lindy groaned.

Chapter Three

Sadie shaded her eyes to search for Bryan’s inky clean-cut hair topping off his six-foot frame. He would undoubtedly be in his khaki trousers and maybe, if he were a daredevil, he traded his standard blue oxford for a short-sleeve white one, considering the day’s sauna-like conditions.

The market had begun to empty out, but on the far end of the public pier a gang of public works guys unloaded a truck. They wheeled around blocks of mobile bleachers, dollies loaded with folding chairs and stage pieces. Sadie wondered what band would be playing later.

From the glare of the afternoon sun, her vision was spotted as she texted Bryan. Suddenly, a yank on her elbow swung her around. Before her, a man that might have passed as Bryan, in the nineteen-sixties, ogled her. She stared at her straight-laced man who now looked like he’d found hippy-ism or joined some sort of cult.

Bryan’s jet black hair had six more inches to its length and he donned a beard and a mustache to match it. The
coup de grace
was his Birkenstock sandals, which replaced his standard Allen Edmonds’ wing-tips. His tie-dyed shirt sported a silhouette of Bob Marley and drooped down over a bulging beltline. Only his trademark khaki trousers were dully recognizable.

Lindy and Quinn no longer found the ears of corn titillating.

“Sadie, Sadie, my little lady,” he sang. “I’ve found you.”

Funny Lady?

“Bryan?” Sadie cast off her shock and went to hug him, but a piece of green food buried in his wiry beard distracted her. She stopped and shook his hand instead.

“It’s been so long, babe, I know. I would have been here sooner, but there’s been some changes.”

“Really? We haven’t talked since before my mom’s funeral, and I’ve been busy taking care of—” She stopped and shook her head to look closer at the man who she’d pinned all her hopes on of escaping Lake Geneva. She tried to adjust to his new psychedelic vision. Overwhelmed and a tad woozy, she perched on Lindy’s display table and clutched the edge.

“Sadie, you’re a beautiful human being. You’re blessed with hair as lovely as the vision of the setting sun,” Bryan sang.

“That’s divine. Does he know
Kumbaya,
too?” Quinn whispered in her ear.

She shuddered. Whether it was from Bryan’s drastic transformation or Quinn’s warm breath, Sadie was too shell-shocked to figure it out.

A waif-like blond with a slinky black skirt and tank top sidled up next to Bryan and hooked a boney arm around his elbow.

Sadie felt the blood drain from her face.

“This is Bridget. I met her in Amsterdam. I wanted you two to meet. If it weren’t for you both, my life would still be a vapid wasteland.”

“Vapid wasteland? Getting an MBA at the University of Chicago and working at your father’s firm in The Board of Trade? That’s vapid?” Sadie crossed her arms.

“Yes. That’s what I came to tell you. I wanted to thank you. In Florida, for spring break, I became the victim of unfortunate circumstances. I developed a filthy disease and the only way I could purge it was to escape. That’s when it happened. I met Bridget in Amsterdam and she showed me the true path to cleanliness and harmony.”

“At your parents’ anniversary party? In Florida? What do you mean?” She struggled to keep up with Bryan’s words while still adjusting to his newfangled psycho-spiritualism.

“Herpes.”

“Herpes is an unfortunate circumstance?” Sadie gasped as an alarm rang in her head. She woke up from the nightmare that had starred Bryan since last fall.

Sadie closed her eyes.
Thanks, Mom, you kept me away from this nut bag.

“Yes I’d been intimate with a young woman on the beach, and she left me with a disease that I can never be free from.”

“You fucked some nasty in Naples, got an STD, and found 4/20?” Lindy spewed.

Lindy came out from behind the booth, perched next to Sadie, and grasped her trembling hand. Quinn sat closer, and his thigh touched her bare leg.

Bryan prattled on, clueless to her shock. “This may surprise you, but if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have decided to go to Europe. I didn’t want you to see or touch me again. That’s why I left. And then I met Bridget and she showed me that the only one good enough to touch me was above me.” He pointed up to the big-top tent.

“John Ringling?” Lindy cracked.

Sadie snorted. “Bridget? She opened up your path to a higher power or just a high? Is
she
allowed to touch you?”

“Oh, yes. Bridget has made a sacrifice to be with me because I can touch her at any time.” Bryan entwined his fingers with Bridget’s.

“Right. She’s sacrificed herself to your
hunger
?” Sadie couldn’t help it. She rolled her eyes. “Or should I say
munchies
?”

Bridget nodded at Bryan like a ventriloquist’s dummy.

Sadie didn’t feel much more intelligent. She dropped her head down and fixated on Quinn’s solid leg and willed the stash of giggles mixed with tears to go away. She needed a breather from the stoned insanity standing in front of her.

“You are an idiot, Morton,” Lindy hissed. “Did you get lost in Amsterdam’s red light district and smoke so much black hash that your brain fried?”

“Lindy, you’re a chosen child of this beautiful earth, so I can overlook your cold heart—”

Quinn stood up, his alpha male intimidating the gangly hippie. “I think, Mr. Morton, you and your friend should get back to your compound. Sadie has heard enough of your crazy philosophic rambling.”

Quinn eclipsed Bryan, and Sadie was distracted by his broad shoulders, which flexed under his—now she was sure—designer T-shirt. He crossed his arms, turned, and gave her a better view of
The
Life of Bryan,
but she preferred Quinn’s ripped biceps. They were much safer and definitely saner.

Bryan offered his hand to Quinn. “We haven’t met. You are?”

“Right,” Quinn said, keeping his arms where they were. “I’d prefer not to chance it.”

Sadie fought a tiny pang of sympathy for Bryan. He looked bewildered at Quinn’s refusal. Had he considered his handshake an effort or showing of goodwill between the two men? But then Bryan’s expression darkened. As he gaped at her, a question seemed to flash across his face.
Who is Quinn to Sadie?

Quinn sat down beside her on the edge of the table. He began to trace the length of her bare thigh with his fingertip

She sucked in her breath.

He caressed her leg, from her knee to the hem of her mini. It tickled. Heat spread through her.

Quinn grasped her thigh gently and tucked his fingertips between her legs just under her skirt hem. She exhaled but barely moved. The rough tips of his fingers were like tinder, close to setting out to burn and within an inch of a scorching her. A tingle of nerves shot through her and she bit her bottom lip to stop a moan from slipping out. Goosebumps covered her arms.

Bryan brushed off Bridget’s hand like a discarded paper towel.

Quinn squeezed her inner thigh tenderly. He glowered at Bryan and then turned to kiss her.

Sadie glanced past Quinn’s shoulder.

Bryan’s face had drained of all color. His loony bird, Bridget, perched near his arm again and then they both stepped back. “I see the devil in that man, Sadie…be careful.”

Sadie didn’t respond. She wasn’t about to break from Quinn’s delicious lips. She closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around Quinn’s neck to give Bryan an image he’d never forget. The full amount—just how much his trip to Amsterdam cost him.

Bryan and his groupie set out on their next pilgrimage.

Quinn’s lips didn’t disappoint and didn’t stop. He angled his shoulders, which hid her from view of the general public and dappled kisses from her lips to her earlobe and took a tiny playful nibble.

“Okay you two, he’s gone to part the Red Sea. Either cut it out or go get a room at the Hilton.” Lindy swatted at them with rhubarb greens. “Move along little horn dogs.”

Sadie reluctantly parted from Quinn’s chest and sprang off the table. A jolt of adrenaline shot through her as Quinn’s hand, still on her thigh, slid up below her skirt and accidentally grazed the lace trim of her panties.

“You move too quickly, Sadie. I didn’t mean that.”

She yanked down her skirt and shook him off. “No harm, no foul. I should thank you. I’m wondering how long it will take for Bryan to come to from his Dutch
trip
. Jeez.”

He laughed, showing off an easy smile that made Sadie relax.

“I hope I didn’t misunderstand and compromise your relationship with that nut-case. What he really needs is a good kick in that deluded head of his. Sorry if I overstepped my bounds.”

She slipped the bag of the now wilted greens from her arm and handed it to Lindy. “Do you mind delivering these to my dad when you go to the diner? I think I need to get home.”

“Sure. No problem. You all right? You look paler than usual.”

“I’m okay.” Sadie retrieved her bike which was propped against the side of Lindy’s white van and walked it out to the market’s emptying galley way. “Considering my escape clause just got scratched.”

The cacophony of van hatches slamming shut and the screeching of metal tables and chairs, as they were dismantled, filled the stifling air.

“See you, Lindy.” Sadie straddled the silver mountain bike and adjusted her butt on the seat, careful to keep her skirt from riding up. “Thanks, Quinn. Uh, for your…Quinn.”

Chapter Four

Why did he kiss Sadie? Where did his overwhelming urge to protect and save her come from?

Quinn laughed.

Bryan was an idiotic twit and with his hash-laced drivel he had dumped a load of bull on Sadie’s lap. The blow-hard was probably at the Motel-Eight fucking his willowy blond until she bled. What did Sadie ever see in the son-of-a-bitch?

He had to step in and do something. Sadie’s face flipped from excitement to utter disappointment when she saw the chump. It chopped his insides like a meat grinder. So he’d grabbed at the first chance available, her leg.

He almost groaned thinking of her silky thigh and then her incredible lips. They had tasted like some kind of sweet berry or fruit.

“Hey, dream date, I thought you wanted to help me clean up the stand, not twiddle your thumbs in the little reds.” Lindy grabbed the basket of potatoes, next to him, off the table. “Move it. I have to get over to the diner or Mr. Maxon will give me one of his lectures on the importance of timeliness. Shees, here I thought Irish dudes sat around pubs, drank Guinness, and talked about spuds.”

“Maxon’s actually from Ireland?” Quinn was relieved to be thinking about Paul instead of Sadie. “Can’t tell, there’s not much of an accent, only suspected from his love of U2 and the copper top.”

“Nope, he’s not the old-world County Cork type. He was born in the States, but lived in Ireland most his life. He met Kate in Dublin in the Eighties. They moved back here when Sadie was born. They were the only parents I’ve known who acted like they truly got along. Loved working on top of each other in the diner, daily. Sadie said they actually still had sex. And they were close to…fifty?” She stuffed the last basket of corn back into the van.

Quinn slid the table he had collapsed onto the floor of the van, careful to avoid crushing any buckets of fresh vegetables stacked along the side. He went to grab the Sweet Organics sandwich board sign and laid it on top of the table. “Oh still sex-crazed over forty? At that rate, I might have to worry soon.”

Lindy slammed the back doors of the van shut and eyed Quinn from head to toe. “Not you. You have enough testosterone to last a millennium.” She laughed. “I know your type Laughton, all action and no talk. How many skirts have you snuck under in Chicago? Don’t answer. And don’t entertain the thought that Sadie will be another of your conquests. If you so much as hurt Sadie, your ass is mine.”

The spunky wisp of a girl just spat nails at his face. He should have known better. Lindy Parker didn’t miss a trick. According to Eddie, his girlfriend, who looked as though she barely tipped over legal drinking age, had run her family’s organic farm on her own for ten years, since her sixteenth birthday. Lindy dedicated herself to her farm and Eddie. And she was obviously devoted to Sadie. “You and Eddie are gold. And Sadie’s, she’s…why’d you ask me to take her out?”

“Desperation. She needs to get her brain off the diner and Bryan. But that doesn’t mean I want her to jump from the loon to a hawk.”

“Your loyalty’s admirable. Don’t worry. I have no intentions of getting near Sadie, but someone had to put that whack-job in his place.”

“Liar, liar pants on fire.”