Candy Crush (14 page)

“I went up to the apartment to start
cleaning. When I opened the door, it reeked. When I walked inside
to open the windows, I saw a body lying in the middle of the living
room. Milo Thomas, the hobby shop owner” – She glanced at Brandon
and he nodded -- “Heard me scream and he came upstairs to see what
was wrong. He said the body was Mr. Partridge.”

“The previous candy store owner?” Brandon
asked with surprise.

Gabriella nodded.

“You found the previous owner’s body in the
apartment? What the hell? He wasn’t there on Tuesday.”

“That’s what I told the police. They
confirmed that there was evidence that he’d been moved. Plus, he’s
apparently been on ice for a long time and only recently defrosted.
Probably he really did die two years ago and someone put him in a
freezer. Apparently to bring him out to scare the next owner.”

“That’s sick. Did it work?”

“A little,” Gabriella admitted.

“Sounds like the famous candy store jinx is
more than just a jinx. You going to close up shop and hightail it
back to Dallas?”

Was she imagining the edge to his words, the
way he held his breath, as if her answer was exceedingly important
to him?

Gabriella shook her head. “No. Although I
can’t imagine why someone would not want a candy shop in downtown.
It seems like a perfect fit.”

Brandon slowly released the breath he had
indeed been holding. “I agree. And just so you know, I don’t care
if the cops release everything back to you tomorrow, you aren’t
moving into that apartment.” His eyes were dark and glittered like
blue diamonds. There was no teasing note to his voice, no
flirtation in his eyes. He was absolutely serious.

Gabriella sighed. “Now it’s my turn to say
I’ve had a lousy day and I don’t feel like fighting with you.”

Brandon’s phone vibrated. He pulled it out
of his pocket and glanced at the screen before answering. “Jared,”
he said, glancing at Gabriella. She smacked herself in the head
with the palm of her hand.

Brandon smiled.

***

“Hey cuz, did you commandeer my date after
all?”

“Actually, she’s been meaning to cancel on
you all week. She just keeps forgetting. But tonight she’s
legitimately recovering from finding Mr. Partridge’s body in her
apartment.” He considered adding that she was currently cozied up
next to him in the bed, but as much as he didn’t mind provoking
Jared, he didn’t want to upset Gabriella. He was pretty certain
that telling his cousin she was in
his
bed, no matter how
innocent it may be, would set her off.

“No shit? I thought that was just a stupid
rumor. Damn, is she hysterical or some shit?”

Brandon smiled because Gabriella was
anything but hysterical. “Something like that. And just so you
know, this one is off-limits.”

He purposely did not look at her when
Gabriella snagged the remote and began channel surfing. His warning
hadn’t exactly been subtle. He had no doubt she knew precisely what
he was talking about.

Jared chuckled. “Mom said you’d finally been
hooked. Guess there’s no more competition out there. Where’s the
fun anymore?”

Brandon didn’t respond. He told himself it
was because Gabriella was lying next to him and he didn’t want her
to know what Jared just said. It certainly wasn’t because he really
was
hooked.

“Later, cuz. Let me know if you get back in
the game. It’s a lot more fun when I’m trying to steal them from
you.”

Brandon disconnected the call. “Are you
hungry?” he asked, looking at Gabriella.

“Not really. I finished off that
lasagna.”

“I’m going to go downstairs to make a
sandwich. Sure you don’t want one?”

Gabriella shrugged. “Okay, maybe a
sandwich.” Brandon chuckled, patted her right thigh and climbed off
the bed. Butter followed him out of the room.

When he returned, he carried a tray piled
with sandwiches, a bag of chips, two bottles of water, a bottle of
beer and another shot of Maker’s Mark. “Wow,” Gabriella said.

“I figure this will sustain us for the
duration, and I won’t have to keep running up and down the stairs.
I let the dog out while I was down there.”

They ate in silence. Brandon took the remote
back and searched for a movie. He settled on a comedy and they
continued to eat and watch in companionable silence. After she
finished a sandwich and a handful of chips, Gabriella swallowed the
shot of Maker’s Mark, with only a small coughing fit this time. She
snuggled deeper into the pillows and he knew she wouldn’t make it
through the movie.

“Are you sleeping here too?” she mumbled,
her lips barely moving.

Brandon glanced down at her. He could tell
she was moments from sleep. “No.”

“Why not?” she mumbled with her eyes closed.
She turned her head and snuggled into his shoulder. He obligingly
lifted his arm and draped it across the pillows, and she snuggled
into the crook of his arm and slid her arm across his chest.

“Because we’ll end up having sex and I
prefer to have sex with you when you are conscious.”

Gabriella giggled and then her breathing
became even and steady as she relaxed completely into sleep.
Brandon lay there for a long time, watching her as she slept. He
marveled at how perfectly she fit into the crook of his arm, and
how perfect she looked, sleeping in his bed. He had never imagined
what she would look like actually
sleeping
in his bed. His
fantasies had all revolved around the activities they would be
doing in his bed. Strangely enough, he didn’t mind at all simply
watching her sleep. He could hear Aunt Korina now: “
I’m proud of
you, my boy
.”

CHAPTER SIX

Gabriella woke up slowly on Saturday
morning. She was snuggled deep into feather pillows and a down
comforter on a bed she literally sank into, it was so soft. This
was not like any bed she had slept in before. Not even the night
before.

Her eyes popped open, and she looked around
the room, trying to orientate herself. She sat up and felt her
abdominal muscles protest. She glanced down and pulled up her
shirt. The purple bruise reminded her of everything that happened
the day before, and she dropped back onto the pillows.

She was in Brandon’s bed, although she was
pretty sure she’d slept in it alone. Which was considerate and
depressing all at once. Not that she had been in any condition to
do anything more than sleep last night, but still. There was a tap
on the door and then Brandon walked in with Butter on his
heels.

“Good morning, sleepy head.”

“Morning,” Gabriella responded. She
stretched and yawned and then blushed when she saw Brandon
blatantly staring at her chest.

“How are the injuries?” he asked after she
tugged the blanket up over her traitorous nipples.

“They hurt. I think I can actually move my
knee now though.”

“That’s good news. Otherwise we’d be making
a trip to the emergency room today.”

“Where did you sleep?”

“In your bed. It smells like you, so I
closed my eyes and pretended.” He gave her a wolfish grin.

Her blush deepened. What did he mean by
pretend? Did he…? Would he…? She cleared her throat, tried to act
flip in an effort to hide her discomfort. “I like yours better.
Want to trade?”

His response was instantaneous and firm.
“Hell no. You can sleep in my bed anytime you want, Sweet Pea, but
last night was the last time you do it alone. And you probably
won’t get much sleep the next time.”

She supposed that the good news was, with
Brandon, she would never have to wonder at his intentions. He had
no qualms about speaking them out loud, clearly spelling them out,
ensuring she could in no way misconstrue what he meant.

With an audible gulp, Gabriella threw back
the covers. The ice pack was still wrapped around her knee,
although it was room temperature at this point. She unwound the
bandage and was dismayed to see that while her knee was no longer
swollen, it had turned varying shades of green, purple and
blue.

“That’s good,” Brandon commented as he bent
over the bed to inspect her injury. “Means it’s healing.”

Gabriella experimentally bent and
straightened her knee, and while it hurt, at least it was moving.
She swung her legs over the side of the bed and Brandon held out a
hand to help her stand.

“You sure are awfully nice for being such a
bad boy,” Gabriella commented as he helped her walk to the
bathroom.

“I was raised right. Wait till you meet my
mother. Speaking of which, we’re due for dinner at her house
tomorrow.”

“We?”

“Yes. She wants to meet you.”

“Why?”

“Aunt Korina and Aunt Constance told her
about you.”

“What did
you
say about me?”

“I said you’re beautiful and smart and you
won’t sleep with me.”

“You said that to your
mother
?”

Brandon laughed. “Yep. You’re her new hero.
And I probably shouldn’t tell you these things because then you’ll
never sleep with me.”

Gabriella hobbled into the bathroom and
closed the door in his face. She took an inordinate amount of time
preparing herself for the day, not because she needed to or wanted
to, but because she needed the time alone. She needed to clear her
head, to straighten out her decidedly bent thoughts. She needed to
force herself not to read into the fact that Brandon had not only
told his mother about her, but was taking her to dinner, at his
parents’ house.

She was absolutely certain Brandon was not
the type of man who took many women home to meet his mother. He had
made his intentions about their future together – or lack thereof –
exceedingly clear, and generally when a man took a woman home to
meet mom, it wasn’t to say, “Hey, this is my current lay.”

He was such a paradox. He was blatant and
open about wanting to sleep with her. He was too damn nice for
her
own good. He was considerate and helpful and seemed to
know when to pull back on the teasing and flirtation.

Oh yeah, and he was so damn hot she was
pretty sure her panties really were melting.

But he was a playboy, little more than a
one-night stand kind of guy. No interest in forever, no interest in
marriage or kids or any of that future, long-term business.

Hell, Gabriella ought to be thrilled. After
what she went through with Miguel, a short-term affair should sound
perfect. While she had a steady dose of sex over the course of the
last two years, it had been mediocre at best, and Brandon promised
the sort of sex she had only ever read about in smutty romance
novels. Why was she denying herself that pleasure?

Because despite her determination when she
first arrived in town, despite what she went through with Miguel,
she really did want it all – marriage, kids, happily ever after.
She said as much to Brandon, when she told him about Miguel, hadn’t
she?

If he asked me to marry him because he
loved me, I probably would have done it
.

She wanted to be in love just as much as the
next girl. And Brandon was just the sort of guy that could make a
girl fall, awfully damn easily. Too damn easily.

That
was the reason she needed to
hold fast to her virtue, to tighten that imaginary chastity belt.
She knew, without a single smidgen of doubt, that to fall into bed
with Brandon Sarantos was to fall in love with Brandon Sarantos,
and would, eventually, lead to one hell of a broken heart.

When she finally emerged from the bathroom,
Brandon was gone from the hallway. She could hear faint sounds
drifting up the stairs, indicative of the fact that he was
downstairs. She hobbled down the hall to the guest room so that she
could get dressed. When she made her way downstairs, she wore a
black long sleeve, v-neck t-shirt and khaki pants and felt
reasonably certain she had her head on straight again. Mostly.

Brandon stood at the counter in the kitchen,
preparing breakfast. He wore jeans and a t-shirt with a blue and
black flannel shirt unbuttoned over the t-shirt. Gabriella’s mouth
began salivating as the apex of her thighs warmed, and for a moment
she forgot all about having her head on straight. She wanted to be
crooked with him. No, horizontal. Oh hell, they didn’t even have to
be horizontal.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Brandon asked, interrupting her inner conversation.

She fought the blush staining her cheeks and
turned her head to the side. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Sort of made me feel like I was a
juicy steak and you were thinking about taking a bite. Feel free,”
he suggested, and Gabriella groaned. He laughed and walked over to
the refrigerator.

“Sit,” he said, pointing at the built in
bench seat that sat behind the kitchen table. “I’ll re-wrap your
knee.”

She obediently did as he said, and then
watched with wide eyes as he expertly applied an ice pack and
wrapped her knee with the elastic bandage. He was kneeling in front
her of, her knees were slightly spread, and her mind was firmly in
the gutter. She didn’t want him to wrap her knee, she wanted him to
peel her pants off and push her panties to the side and –

“Here,” he said, once again interrupting her
thoughts. She blinked and realized he was holding a second ice
pack. “For your stomach.”

“Oh.” She accepted the ice pack and pressed
it to her stomach, while he returned to preparing breakfast. As
heated as her body currently felt, both ice packs would probably be
melted before they finished breakfast.

He placed two plates on the table. The
plates were overflowing with scrambled eggs mixed with cheese and
red and green bell peppers, bacon and sliced apples. He then added
two glasses of orange juice and two cups of coffee.

“Gosh, you’re going to spoil me,” Gabriella
commented as she sipped coffee.