Cup of Sugar (3 page)

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Authors: Karla Doyle

Tags: #Literature & Fiction, #Romance, #Contemporary, #Contemporary Fiction, #Romantic Comedy, #neighbors, #happily ever after, #self published, #humorous romance, #Erotic Romance, #Close to Home series, #holiday romance, #Contemporary Romance

BOOK: Cup of Sugar
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She wasn’t the only one. The women she’d seen leaving Conn’s house obviously felt the same. Always smiling—well, other than that one brunette who’d had an outright hissy fit at Conn on his front porch. And that’s exactly why she needed to keep her distance from the man. He affected women. Strongly.

She hated to admit it, but he’d already affected her, even prior to this excursion. Conn had figured into her dreams—and masturbatory fantasies—more times than she could count. If she let her guard down, she’d be another notch on his bedpost. She had no doubt she’d leave smiling. Only that wouldn’t be enough for her. She’d be planning their wedding before she made it across the driveway to her house. She just wasn’t wired for casual sex. For casual anything.

She watched Conn mess with the truck’s computer after restarting the engine failed to produce the necessary result. He pressed buttons. He checked the truck’s fuses. God, she wouldn’t have a clue where to find her car’s fuses, or what to do with them once she did locate the damn things. Conn seemed to know how to do all this stuff.

He was the same around his house. Always fixing things, or maintaining them. Doing his manly duties very, very capably. Sometimes with his shirt off and his well-worn jeans hanging low on his hips, showing off those grooves that curved downward from his abs and disappeared into his pants. And she knew what was inside those pants—oh, yes, she did. Because despite Conn’s handyman tendencies, he apparently couldn’t install window coverings in his bathroom. How did he not realize all the stuff she could see from her windows? Maybe he simply didn’t care who saw him in the raw. He certainly had nothing to be ashamed of.

Oh boy. Good thing his attention was on the command center and not her, because her cheeks were on fire. One look at her face and he’d know exactly what was going on in her head.

“Want me to turn the air-conditioning on?” This, without losing focus on his task.

“What? No. It’s freezing outside.”

“Getting kind of warm in here though.” Now he looked up at her. Grinning ear to ear. Of course he was. A man like Conn probably
could
read her mind.

Fabric rustled as she squirmed on her seat. Ah, that’s what had given her away. If not the sound, then probably her scent. With all the stuff she was thinking, she had to be throwing off the fuck-me pheromones. Too bad all her fidgeting hadn’t quelled the building tingle between her legs. If anything, the friction of her too-tight jeans had made it worse.

She needed him to fix that GPS. The sooner they got underway, the sooner she’d be safely tucked away in her parents’ house—away from Conn and his ridiculously hot physique. His charming ability to make easy conversation. His sexy smiles and the deep, delicious timbre of his laugh. Dear god, she was done for.

“Can you fix it?”

“Nope. Could be the satellite signal because of the storm. Or the computer is fried.” He grabbed his cell from its place in a cup holder. A couple of swipes later he cursed under his breath. “Thought we could use the maps app, but I’m not getting any service. Zero bars. Try yours.”

Nia fished her cell from her purse. Nothing. She powered the phone off and on. Still nothing. “Mine’s the same.”

“I’m only familiar with the main highways in this area. How well do you know the back roads?”

The black, night sky pressed in on the truck from all sides. The rhythmic dance of the windshield wipers pushed away the non-stop assault of snow. Conn’s gaze remained locked on her face, waiting.

“On a sunny, summer day…” This truth was going to hurt. “Not so well.” She grimaced as he nodded, no doubt formulating new opinions on her blonde status. “I’m so sorry I got you into this mess.” She’d have to deal with Conn being pissed at her at a later point. Right now, they had a bigger problem—they were effectively lost.

* * * * *

It’ll be okay, we’ll wing it.
That’s what he’d told her an hour ago, when the big, fat tear had rolled down Nia’s cheek. The fully legit, sweet and innocent thing again. Conn’s personal kryptonite.

Now he wasn’t so sure he could keep his word. The snow seemed to be coming at them from every direction and he couldn’t see more than four feet ahead of the truck. These unmarked back roads hadn’t been plowed in hours. Even with snow tires and four-wheel drive, they had to practically crawl.

He glanced at the fuel gauge. A quarter tank. He hated letting it get that low. Especially when he had no fucking clue where they were, or how far it was to a service station. Who was he kidding? If they were lucky enough to happen upon a gas station, it wouldn’t be open. Not at ten o’clock on New Year’s Eve.

Zeus grumbled in the back seat. The dog had probably picked up on Conn’s rising stress level. Possibly Nia’s, too. She’d barely spoken since the Durango’s computer went on the fritz, other than to apologize every ten minutes or so. The fun girl who’d captivated him with her bubbly confidence had disappeared. And he wanted her to come back.

“Talk to me.” He didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he felt her turn to look at him. “About anything, as long as it doesn’t include another apology.”

“That really narrows the field at the moment.”

There, a hint of underlying sarcasm. He’d take it. “All right. I’ll choose the topic.” He shot her a smile. “The topic is you.”

“Oh god. No way.”

“Hey, I didn’t say it had to be your deep, dark secrets—though I don’t mind if you want to share those.”

“I’ll spare you the mind-numbing details. Don’t want you falling asleep at the wheel.”

“Then let’s go with three interesting facts about Nia Chambers.” When she groaned, he added, “If you’d rather I ask direct questions, I can think of a lot more than three things I’d like to know.”

“Three’s sufficient. My favorite color is pink. I’m a sappy girly-girl and proud of it. And…” The vibe in the cabin shifted with her pause. “I’ve been waiting all my life for a man to sweep me off my feet.”

“Good to know.” Well now. He hadn’t seen that last one coming. Not after the first two facts. An interesting choice for her to dole out, but not random, he’d bet.

From earlier conversation, he knew Nia was twenty-seven, she managed an upscale restaurant and she’d bought the house next door on her own. Grudgingly, she’d mentioned that she’d been single since her last boyfriend, whom she’d dated for a year.

Attractive, intelligent, friendly, independent. Nia had plenty going for her. Either she continually went for the wrong guys, or she had the bar for being swept off her feet set pretty damn high. Good thing he liked a challenge.

“Conn, look.” Nia’s arm shot toward the windshield.

Lights cut through the wall of white ahead. Not headlights, either. Streetlamps. One on each side of the road. A gas station on the opposite side, a small motel on their right. The gas station was dark but the motel seemed open for business, its red neon “Vacancy” sign flashing in a window.

He pulled into the unplowed parking lot and stopped in front of the main door. “Let’s find out where we are.”

Zeus’ big head filled the space between the front seats. Before Conn could address the dog, Nia began stroking the crease between Zeus’ eyes.

“Sorry to ruin your New Year’s Eve with this crappy road trip.”

Conn raised an eyebrow at her. “I told you no more apologizing.”

“Mind your own business, bossy, I was talking to Zeus.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Maybe I should wait in the truck with him while you go get directions. He might get upset if we both leave.” Her petting had extended to include a stretch of fur from Zeus’ muzzle to the top of his head, including a scratch behind his ears. Each time she completed the loop, Zeus’ eyes drooped a bit lower and he made a low, appreciative noise.

Lucky dog.

Conn nodded. “I’ll be back in a few.” He stepped out of the truck, into snow deep enough to cover his entire eight-inch-high boot, plus a couple more inches. The weatherman had seriously underestimated. Then again, the forecast Conn had heard earlier had been for a different region. A mixture of fat snowflakes and icy pellets swirled around him as he trudged through the accumulation. This storm was nowhere near finished.

“Hello…?” Conn called when the slamming door and accompanying overhead bell didn’t bring anybody to the motel’s small office.

“Hang on,” came a voice from somewhere beyond a half-open door. A minute later, an older gentleman appeared—in his bathrobe. “The missus and I were just getting ready to turn in. If you’d shown up five minutes later, you’d have been outta luck. Need a room?”

“Sorry to disturb you. I need directions, actually. My GPS died, along with the cell service. I’ve been flying blind since I got rerouted from the 115.”

The gray-haired man pushed his glasses up his nose. “I saw that mess on the news. Accidents all over the place tonight. You were lucky to get clear of them. Where are you headed?”

“Barry’s Bay. Near Bancroft.”

The man whistled and shook his head. “Got bad news for you, son. You’ve veered quite a bit off course. Easy to do on these twisty back roads, especially when you can’t see for shit. If I were you, I’d hunker down for the night and make a fresh start when you’ve got daylight and clear roads.” He winked. “And an old-fashioned map. The gas station across the road should open around nine.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ll need a room after all. One with two beds.”

“Can’t help you there. One bed per room, and I’ve only got one room available. You want it?”

Shit, this ought to be interesting. “Yeah, that’d be great. Thanks.”

* * * * *

Nia leaned forward, as close as possible to the windshield, watching Conn inside the motel office. He and a short, older man who was likely the owner had shared a brief conversation. That made sense. Rather than return to the truck, though, Conn pulled his wallet from his jeans. Handed the man a card, then signed something.

That could only mean one thing. She scanned the front of the small building. Four doors, one of which led to the office. Maybe there were more around the back. Plus, this place was in the middle of nowhere—to the best of her knowledge, anyway—so there ought to be plenty of vacant units. Nothing to worry about.

“Hey.” Conn closed the truck door and brushed the snow from his hair. “What do you want first, the good news or the bad?”

“Always lead with the bad, it makes the good look that much better.”

“All right. Apparently, we’ve gone southeast, rather than north, adding about an hour to our drive—in good weather.”

“Which we don’t have.”

“Not at the moment. In fact, the motel owner said they’re predicting another six inches to come overnight.”

She couldn’t help it, a giggle bubbled up and slipped through her lips. “Sorry. It just struck me as, um…” Another giggle escaped, and Conn’s eyebrows rose. “Another six inches to come overnight…under other circumstances, a girl would be excited to hear that prediction.” Oh god, had she really said that? To the one man she absolutely could not have sex with, while they were parked in front of a motel? Shit, shit, shit.

The damage was done. Conn’s mouth curved into a lethally sexy smile. “Guess I know another interesting fact about you now.”

Heat flared in her cheeks. “And what’s that?”

“You have a dirty mind.”

Whether she confirmed or denied, she’d be in trouble.

Conn didn’t put her through the embarrassment of answering. The torture of leaning across the console area, invading her space with his manly scent and intoxicating pheromones—
that
he did. He was so close. Close enough to kiss her. Or tickle her ear with his warm breath as he said, “Personally, I predict seven to eight solid inches tonight.”

Oh. Dear. God.

He eased back, grinning as he killed the engine. “The good news is, we chanced upon the only motel in a hundred-kilometer radius before we ran out of gas or landed in a ditch. And it had a vacancy.”


A
vacancy?”

“Yeah, one room left.” As if cued, the red “Vacancy” sign in the office window flickered to black. He held up a plastic fob with a single key dangling from its ring. “And it’s all ours.”

She forced a smile while donning her coat. Sharing a motel room with Conn was definitely
not
good news.

 

 

Chapter Three

 

The bottom dropped out of Nia’s stomach when Conn opened the motel room door. Yes, the “good news” could get worse. There was only one bed.

“Not bad for a dinky motel in the middle of nowhere,” Conn said as he slid the chain lock into place.

She nodded. He was right. Decorated in earth tones and soft blues, the room was actually quite nice. No matter how bright, cozy and clean it was, though, it still had one
queen-size
problem. And she couldn’t take her eyes off it.

“Where are we all going to sleep?” There, she’d asked the million-dollar question.

Conn made a sharp, clicking noise with his tongue and pointed to the carpet near the dresser. Zeus shook his big, reddish-brown body and sauntered to the spot. The dog stretched to a ridiculous length, then curled into an unbelievably small ball and immediately fell asleep.

“I hope you’re not expecting that to work on me.”

“Nope.” He redirected his outstretched arm and made that same clicking noise. “I’m ordering you to the bed.”

Oh god.

He grinned while shrugging out of his coat. “I’ll take the couch.”

And she could breathe again. “Does it have a pull-out bed?” At his head shake, she glanced at the aforementioned piece of furniture. Couch was far too generous a description. The thing was barely a loveseat.

She shifted her appraisal to Conn, currently bent at the waist, untying his boots. His t-shirt stretched across broad shoulders. The light-gray fabric molded to his body, showcasing every muscular lump and bump of his back before it gave way to a strip of skin above the waist of his jeans. Jeans that went on for days because his legs were so damn long.

“You’re too big, you’ll never fit.”

His boot thudded to the floor. He straightened. Returned to full height, he looked down at her with unadulterated mischief. “Have some faith, sweetheart.”

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