Sugar Rush (8 page)

Eliot just laughed and shook his head. He was enjoying her company, even if she seemed to have a one-track mind. Truth was, he didn’t mind the track it was on. Not one bit.

Chapter 10

Amonth later, Eliot was stuffing a tray of donuts with filling, but his mind was still on his last conversation with his uncle. Carl was getting more and more demanding. And Eliot was feeling more and more like Judas.

He glanced at Mae at her stove in the far corner, where she spent most of her time preparing meals for them. For him. Every day, she fed them lunches fit for a king, and he’d look into her soft brown eyes and smile.

Then there was Sophie, who watched him with intensity when she thought no one was watching her. He knew she was attracted to him—if nothing else, the one kiss they’d shared proved that. But she was always careful to keep their relationship on the level.

Dante and Lonnie accepted him without question, and even Wayne seemed to have begrudgingly accepted him. But the guilt of living a double life was starting to get to him, and he wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

Sophie rolled up beside him. “El? Can I ask you for a favor?” She lifted a key on a ring. “Wayne is off today, and Dante’s out
doing deliveries. So can you run out to the shed and bring in twenty cans of peach filling?”

He wiped his hands on his apron. “No problem.” As he took the key, their hands touched briefly, and Sophie snatched her hand back as if scorched by fire. “You okay?”

She nodded and began rolling away.

Eliot quickly brought in the large cans of peach filling, stacking them on an empty preparation table. By then Sophie had rolled into the large pantry area. She sat with a clipboard on her lap, counting cans and boxes on the shelf.

He leaned against the door and watched her work, then she turned to leave and saw him. She was so startled she almost bounced right up out of her chair.

“Sorry.” He smiled. “Didn’t mean to scare you.” He handed the key over. “Here you go.”

She waved it away. “You might as well keep it. It’s a spare, and I’m sure you’ll need it again.” He glanced at the key with interest for the first time and realized there were two keys on the chain. “What’s this other one for?”

“The store. It opens the front and back doors. Just make sure you don’t lose it,” she said.

“Sophie, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You just seem different.”

“Different from what?”

He glanced over her shoulder. Mae was now in the front of the store and everyone else was out, so he felt comfortable speaking freely. “I kinda thought something was happening here.” He gestured to himself and to her. “And now you won’t even look me in the eyes.”

She looked slightly startled. “Oh? You thought that little flirting meant something? I’m sorry, I was just playing around, you know…passing the time.”

Eliot didn’t believe that for a minute. “I see.”

“I’m sorry if you misunderstood. But it’s not like you’re going to be here any length of time.” She grinned playfully. “Just waiting for your lover’s husband to cool off, right? You don’t
want to get into something with a one-legged woman in a backwoods town.” She laughed as if tickled by her own comment. But Eliot could feel it was forced.

When he didn’t laugh with her, Sophie cleared her throat. “Well, back to work.” She pushed on past him and into her office.

Eliot stood for several minutes, staring down at the key in his hand. She trusts me with the key to her store, but not to her heart,he thought. His fingers closed around the key ring.

It only got worse from there. Wayne had caught a pretty bad summer cold, which knocked him out of commission for a few days. During that time, Sophie became more and more dependent on Eliot.

By the end of that week he’d helped Sophie complete the payroll and do inventory, and he fixed the broken coil on the old oven two times, in addition to his daily duties. But it wasn’t until that Friday evening, when he found himself in his car on the way to the bank with the store’s deposit, that it hit him just how much she’d come to trust him.

During that time, his last and best offer had arrived from Steve’s office via courier. Eliot had made a point of going into the office to talk to Sophie just as she was opening the envelope. He wanted to gauge her reaction to the offer to see if they were even getting close to a number they could agree on.

Sophie quickly scanned the letter and the offer attached. Then, with a heavy sigh, she tossed both on the desk.

“Bad news?” Eliot asked, pretending to read through Mae’s recipe book

“Oh, no.” She smiled, but there was a sadness to it. “Very good news, actually.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s an offer for the business.”

“Are you going to take it?”

“No, I can’t.”

“Why not?”

She looked at him as if surprised by the question. “It’s not mine to sell.”

“Why not show the offer to Mama Mae, and get her opinion? She may surprise you and want to sell.”

Sophie sighed. “She won’t.”

Realizing he was losing the battle, he moved forward. “Can I?” he asked. She handed the papers to him. He pretended to be interested in what he was reading, even though he was the one who had dictated the offer to Steve. “Wow, that’s pretty generous, don’t you think?”

“Exceptionally generous, and so was the first offer. But I know my grandmother won’t sell.”

That conversation had happened right before he left for the bank with the deposit. Now, as he glanced up at the mirror before changing lanes, Eliot was slightly startled to see his uncle’s face looking back. He jumped a bit then looked again, only to realize it was a trick of the lights…or his mind, he wasn’t sure which.

All he knew with absolute certainty was that he did not want to see this face when he looked in a mirror. He was not his uncle, nor did he want to become his uncle. His uncle would have taken that recipe book when Sophie offered it weeks ago. His uncle would losethe bank deposit and throw the small store into financial turmoil. He was not his uncle. And because he was not his uncle, he would find a compromise that did not involve destroying these people.

The next morning, Eliot was filling the front counters and Mae was filling the cash drawer when he decided to broach the subject.

“Mama Mae, you ever think about what you will do when you retire?”

“Retire? Me?”

He smiled. She sounded like the idea was so far off in the future, it was too soon to consider. “Yes, you. If anyone’s earned the right to retire it would be you. Maybe go find yourself a young boyfriend.”

She chuckled, shaking a finger at him. “You’re a charmer, El. That’s what you are.”

He winked at her. “But seriously, you ever think about it? I’m sure if you tried, you could probably get a good price for this place.”

She suddenly looked indignant. “I can’t sell this place! My husband built this place with his own hands.” She shook her head, and her sweeping became more erratic. “No, I can’t sell this place. This is the legacy to Sophie, and any of our grandchildren who want to take an interest.”

Eliot sat the now-empty tray on top of the counter. “What if the offer was enough to take care of all your grandchildren?”

She laughed. “Who would offer that much for this place?”

He shrugged. “You never know.”

After lunch, he went out to his car for privacy and made a call to Steve asking him to rewrite the offer.

The next day when the new offer arrived via courier, Eliot expected a different response, but Sophie’s reaction was much the same. And no matter how hard he tried he could not get her to show the offer to her grandmother. It all came down to unnecessarily upsetting her grandmother. Eliot didn’t think Mae was nearly as fragile as her granddaughter thought she was.

So he happened to mention the two new offers to Mae when he saw her alone. But Sophie was right—Mae wasn’t the slightest bit interested, even though the offer would mean a generous legacy for her grandchildren.

The clock was ticking, and Eliot could not seem to find a way to break through their shells of resistance. And he wasn’t sure how many more trusting smiles from this pair of women he could stand. He knew he was coming to care more and more about Sophie and her grandmother, and the idea of leaving them devastated was not an option he was willing to accept.

He had to find a way to get them to sell and prove to his uncle that he was strong enough to take over the company at the same time. Then there was the whole I want you, I don’t want youvibe he was getting from Sophie.

One minute, she was stroking his arms and telling him how much she appreciated his help, and the next she was practically ignoring him. One minute she was rubbing against him, giving him a hard-on that felt like a steel rod in his pants, and the next she was looking at him as if he were an alien just landed from another planet. Most days he didn’t know if he was coming or going.

The combined pressure of living two lives was becoming too much, and what had started out as just a bad idea was rapidly becoming one of the most disastrous decisions of his life. He hoped he could find a way out of it before it was too late.

Chapter 11

Eliot paced the floor of his condo that evening. He couldn’t go on like this. Despite what Uncle Carl said, these were good people. They were not the enemy. He stopped in front of the window and looked out over the city. How could something as soft and sweet as Sophie Mayfield ever be his enemy?

But what choice did that leave him? He’d spent his whole life working to take over Fulton Foods. All the long days and nights working in the kitchen, even as a teen, learning everything he could. He’d even designed his degree program around what he thought he would need. A combination of business and marketing. Instead of going away on spring break like his friends, he’d always returned to Memphis, spending not only breaks but summer vacations on the floor of the plant. He was so close to taking over the reins of the company. He’d made connections at all levels of the business, and all he had to do was put this competitor out of business. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t done before.

He started pacing again. The problem was he’d never gotten this close before. He’d never taken the time to meet the people
involved before, to see the effects of his machinations. He’d never fallen for a woman like Sophie before.

How was he suppose to continue to go in there every day for however long and look them in the face, knowing what he was planning? On some level, it would be easier to simply take the book and be done with it. That would satisfy his uncle, and eventually the little bakery would recover.

He stopped suddenly. That wouldsolve everything, wouldn’t it? Just take the book. Then he’d never have to see Sophie again, and eventually he’d be able to forget her. Wouldn’t he? It would crush Mama Mae, but so would watching her bakery be taken apart brick by brick.

Before he could talk himself out of it, Eliot grabbed his keys and headed out of the condo. Forty-five minutes later he was pulling up in front of the quiet bakery. It was dark, but Eliot knew Sophie was in the back.

He sat for a moment, thinking and planning, working out the details in his head. The office and her sleeping quarters were both in the back part of the store. But the office was on one end and the small apartment was on the other. This time of night, if she were still awake, she would probably be watching TV.

If he came in the back door and stayed close to the wall, she would never hear him. He could get into the office and slip right back out with the book. Then disappear into the night, never to be seen or heard from again.

Turning off his car, he glanced around. The little sleepy town was completely dark. Eliot was pretty sure even the police went home at night, since he’d never seen a patrol car on the streets after dark. If he hadn’t spent the last few weeks working here, he would have never believed towns like this still existed.

He crept around to the back of the building. Using the set of keys she’d given him, he carefully, quietly, opened the back door. Eliot stepped inside and gently closed the door behind him. The kitchen was pitch-black and it took a moment for his eyes to adjust. As he moved farther inside, he could see a light coming from Sophie’s apartment. He silently cursed. She was still awake.

He headed in the direction of the office, creeping along the
wall, careful not to bump into anything, moving with the stealth of a cat burglar. Then he was standing in the office doorway.

The desk was cluttered with papers and files. Sophie kept a messy desk but was surprisingly organized despite it. On a corner of the desk, where it sat most of the time, was the large book. He swallowed hard, crossed the room and picked it up.

He stood frowning at the book for several seconds, convincing himself that the tingling in his fingers was completely imaginary. All he had to do now was walk back out the door with it. Just turn around, walk out the back door, get in his car and drive away. That was all he had to do. Just leave…. Just leave.

Five minutes later, he still stood in the exact same spot, holding the book. He released a deep sigh. “What the hell am I doing?” he muttered to himself, before putting the book back. As he turned to leave, he realized the whole evening had been a waste of time. He could have no more taken her book tonight than he could have the day Sophie offered it to him.

Careful to keep quiet, he moved out of the office and stayed against the wall as he worked his way back to the door. He was almost there when he heard a voice that froze his blood in his veins.

“El.”

The whispered word came to him from Sophie’s apartment. He looked in the direction, expecting to see her sitting in her doorway, watching him in the dark. But instead all he saw was just the faint light from the room.

“El.”

He frowned, wondering if it were his imagination. Was she actually calling his name? Or saying something that just sounded amazingly similar?

“El.” His eyes widened. Definitely his name.

He stood torn, knowing he should just go out the door and drive away as quickly as possible, but he couldn’t. Not until he checked on her. What if she was hurt—in fact, she didkind of sound like she was in pain.

He moved along the wall, still careful. He glanced around, fairly certain he was alone in the kitchen, but he double-checked
anyway. As he came to her apartment, he was in no way prepared for what he saw.

Eliot was certain he’d never seen anything so incredibly beautiful in his life.

She was spread wide open on the small twin bed, her beautiful, dark brown body completely exposed. Her soft blue cotton gown lay unbuttoned beneath her, her head against the pillow, eyes closed. The small fingers of one hand manipulated the tiny piece of flesh at her opening and the other toyed with one hardened nipple. It was the fulfillment of his most recent wet dream being acted out before his eyes. And best of all, it was his name on her lips, as she reached for the final destination.

There was so much to explore, so much to see. He’d wanted to see this view of her from the moment he’d met her, and she was more than he even imagined. Long, slender, flawless brown legs lay apart, slightly bent at the knees, revealing a dark pink opening covered by a thatch of raven-black curls. Even the unattractive white cast on her leg could not hinder the arousing picture. Her small torso was just as perfectly formed. Small, proud breasts, just enough for a large handful, with dark aroused nipples pointing to the sky, led down to a tiny waist and rounded hips.

Hips that bucked even as he watched. “Oh, El, yes! Oh yes!” Completely oblivious to his presence, she busily worked her fingers to bring herself to climax. And at some point, Eliot had stopped breathing as he watched the erotic show before him.

How many times had she masturbated and used his image as inspiration? How ever many times had been a waste! He would have been more than eager to provide her with the real thing.

“Oh, yes! Oh, El, yes!” she cried out, as her back arched and her hips lifted off the bed.

His eyes widened in amazement. From his angle he could literally see the wetness released by her body drenching her fingers. Eliot had had his fair share of lovers, but this was the first time he’d ever had this kind of ringside seat. He’d had no idea what he’d been missing out on.

Feeling slightly annoyed and a touch angry, he quietly crossed the room to stand over the bed, and waited.

Soon she floated down from her orgasm, released a great sigh of relief and opened her eyes…then wider, as if slightly confused by what she was seeing. Then he knew reality had caught up with her because she gasped in horror and scrambled to cover her body.

“Oh, my God! What are you doing here?!” she cried, pulling at the sheet at the end of the bed. Eliot grabbed the other end of the sheet and pulled back. “Stop, El! What are you doing here?!”

“At the moment, wishing I would’ve arrived a few minutes sooner.”

Her large brown eyes widened even more, and she looked like she was going to burst into tears. “You saw?!”

“Every perfect inch of you.”

“You saw what I—Oh, this can’t be happening. This can’tbe happening!” She tried to bury her head in the covers, but Eliot was still holding on to the other end. “Stop it!” She tugged harder.

“Then come out and look at me.”

He watched her shoulders slump beneath the covers. “Haven’t you seen enough already?”

“Not nearly.” He tried to hide his smile. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“What exactly was I suppose to say, El?” She peeked her head out, her brown eyes looked so open and vulnerable. “‘Oh, by the way, El, when you get finished buttering those tarts, could you drop by my bedroom and do me?’” she said in an overly bright voice.

He grinned. “And I would’ve said the tarts can wait.”

Apparently, that was the wrong answer, because she stuck her head back under the covers. Eliot sat down on the bed beside her, trying to ignore his growing erection. Try as he might, and despite her humiliation, his mind could not let go of what he’d just witnessed.

“Sophie.” He reached and gently peeled the covers from her hand. Then, realizing he was holding the hand she’d masturbated with, he brought it to his lips and licked her fingers.

She snatched her hand back. “Don’t.”

“Why not?” he huffed. “You cut me out of all the good stuff. Can’t I at least have the leftovers?”

She looked at him for a moment, then pulled her knees up to her chest and scooted up on the bed away from him. “Uh no, I can see where this is going, and…no.”

Eliot tilted his head to the side watching her in confusion. “No?”

“You heard me.”

The annoyed, angry feeling returned full force. “You’d rather do it yourself?”

“I don’t have a choice!” she snapped, then instant mortification came over her face. “Can this night get any worse?”

“What do you mean you don’t have a choice? I’m sitting right here—on your bed. Ready, willing and sure-as-hell able.”

“El…I never meant for you to see what you did. But there is a lot of difference between masturbating while thinking of a man I find attractive and actually getting involved with that man in a real relationship.”

“Yes, there is. And from what I see, a relationship would be nothing but an improvement on what you’re doing.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?”

“What? The relationship?”

She nodded.

“I don’t understand the question.”

“Yes you do. Things don’t work out between us, maybe it even deteriorates to the point where we no longer like each other. Then I’m out of a much-needed baker, and you’re out of a job.”

“And you call mecynical.”

“I like you—and I don’t mean that I just find you sexually inviting. I mean I really like you.” She smiled. “I like talking to you, I like flirting with you and I don’t want to mess that up.”

“We won’t.” He shifted his body toward her, placing a hand on either side of her body. “Let me tell you what is going to happen.” His eyes roamed over her form. “I’m going to stand up and undress and crawl into this bed with you and make love to you like nothing your imagination could conjure.

“Then tomorrow, I will come in here and do my job like the professional I am, and you will manage this store like the professional you are. And then tomorrow night when everyone has left for the day, I will come back in here and once again take you
in my arms and you will welcome me into your body and we will make love until we’re both exhausted. And we will continue like that until either we no longer want the lovemaking or we want more from each other.”

“You make it sound so easy, but I’ve never been a big fan of casual sex.”

“Sweetheart, there is nothing casual about what I want from you. I want you to want more,and I plan to make that my single most important objective.”

She shook her head doubtfully. “I don’t know, El. I can see all the things that could go wrong with that plan.”

“Can you see the things that could go right?”

She looked up into his eyes. “Yes, but they feel more like dreams.”

“‘Nothing happens unless first a dream.’”

“Did you just steal that from someone?”

He grinned. “Carl Sandburg.”

She frowned. “Are you sure you’re a baker?”

El forced himself to keep his grin in place, despite the fact that her question was more than a little unsettling. “You’ve tasted my pastries. What do you think?”

She smiled. “That you are extremely talented in the kitchen.” After a moment, she pulled back the covers revealing her body to him. “Let’s see what you can do in the bedroom.”

El looked at this beautiful woman, and wondered how he had stumbled into this dream come true. Suddenly, he reached forward and pulled back the sheet as far as he could. Then he reached over her and spread the nightgown beneath her, just as it had been when he’d entered the room.

Then gently, and careful of her injured leg, he parted her thighs, propping up her legs.

“Perfect,” he cooed, standing to look at his handiwork. “You’re beautiful.”

Quickly he unbuttoned his own shirt, taking it off and tossing it aside.

“How long?” As his shoes came off, and then his pants, he watched her expression change.

“What?” she whispered.