Darling Page 2

  “Hey, Donovan,” I call over to the shop owner. He’s a nice guy about my age, who’s lived in Sugar Creek his whole life. He’s one of the first friends I made here a few months ago when Esme let me move into her place.

  “Hey, buddy. Have a seat, I’ll bring over the usual. I’ll even change the music.”

  “You don’t have to do that. I have some ear buds,” I remind him, but he shakes his head.

  “Please let me change the music. My sister is going through an Ariana Grande stage, and I can’t take another minute.”

  I laugh and grab my usual table. If I’m lucky, I can get a chapter and a half knocked out by dinner time.

  Six

  AMELIA

  I step out of the bathroom refreshed and rejuvenated. I’m freshly scrubbed, in my comfiest clothes, and feeling like I’m completely over Joseph. I’m finding it hard to remember what it was that attracted me to him in the first place. It certainly isn’t the way he would make me feel, as his constant nagging has eaten away at my self-confidence over the months we spent together.

  I know for a fact I’m better off without Joseph White. I deserve to be treated better than Joseph treated me on his best days. I want a man who tows the line between gentleman and alpha male. Strong and manly, yet sweet and doting.

  My mind immediately shifts to Griffin, as I wonder what he’s up to at the moment. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought of him while I was in the shower, soaping up my naked body in the same small space that he had just that morning.

  After running a brush through my soft blonde waves, I leave it down to air dry and head down the stairs. “Griffin?”

  I am greeted by only silence, and the soft purr of Pickles as he dozes on the sofa.

  “Huh. That’s strange,” I mutter, running my gaze over the empty room. A neon green square of paper catches my eye, and I step over to investigate. When I realize he’s gone out to work on his writing, I feel a pang of regret. Have I been a bother already? Perhaps I was too noisy in the shower, my loud music interfering with his creative flow.

  He said he’d be back for dinner, and the thought of sharing a meal with him kicks my pulse into overdrive. I decide I’ll make him dinner to apologize. Sauntering into the kitchen, I scan the refrigerator for inspiration, surprised to find it fully stocked. I pull out the ingredients I need, filling the counter with a colorful variety of vegetables and proteins. After scouring the cabinets, I find the pots and pans I’ll be using and set to work.

  After a couple of hours, I have onions, tomatoes, and garlic chopped and simmering together on the stove to form my mother’s famous marinara sauce. I’m also working hard on homemade pasta, likely covered in flour like the rest of the kitchen. Cucumbers, lettuce, tomatoes, and onions are resting on the counter, waiting to be sliced up for a salad.

  The sound of the keys in the door causes the edges of my lips to lift into a bashful smile.

  “Well, something smells delicious.”

  God, that accent is so sexy.

  “Thank you. I’m glad you think so.” My voice comes out a breathy purr, and I realize that it’s going to be hard to hide my attraction to this man. I know I’ve just gotten out of a relationship, but cooking for Griffin makes it easy to picture a future with him. I gently clear my throat. “I wanted to make dinner to say thank you for letting me stay here.”

  “Not necessary, love. I’m glad you’re here.” He waves his hand as if it’s no trouble, but I still feel guilty for chasing him out of his house. He rests his laptop on the desk and hangs his keys on the hook.

  “Did you get much writing done?”

  “I did, actually. I’ve been feeling unusually inspired today.” He shoots me a wink that turns my insides to liquid.

  I back away from the stove, certain I’m going to melt into a puddle on the floor. “I’m glad to hear that.” I try to fan myself without him noticing.

  “For dessert, I’ve grabbed some macarons for you from the French Bakery in town. Esme mentioned they were your favorites, but she neglected to tell me which flavor. I hope it’s okay that I got a variety.” When he moves into the kitchen and places a bakery box on the counter, I know I’m a goner.

  “Oh, that was so sweet and thoughtful.” I go to the fridge to grab the bottle of wine I’d found chilling inside, before I pull two glasses from the cabinets.

  Griffin snags a few cucumbers to chop. He plucks an onion from the pile as well, and begins slicing up the veggies with a skilled hand. A man who knows his way around the kitchen is the most attractive type of man. I run my tongue along my lower lip when he rolls up his sleeves to expose his vascular forearms, feeling the desire course through me.

  I tear my eyes away to fill the glasses and hand him one, before downing mine much more quickly than I should. I haven’t eaten much all day, and I already feel the rush of alcohol to my lust-addled brain. Griffin’s eyes are on me as he takes a sip, amusement lighting the honey brown from within.

  Seven

  GRIFFIN

  I can tell from the healthy flush of Amelia’s cheeks that she’s nervous around me. She’s drinking faster than she probably should, but calling her out on it would only make her more uncomfortable.

  Plus, she looks adorable like this, sipping wine in my kitchen while she makes us dinner. I get a mental picture of her, barefoot and pregnant and cooking for our family. It makes me feel like some kind of caveman, but I can’t help it. I’ve wanted Amelia longer than I’d ever admit to anyone—especially my sister.

  I busy myself chopping onions and cucumbers for the salad while she finishes dinner. It smells amazing, but I’d be lying if I said it was dinner that I was most excited about.

  When she spins around to grab plates from the cabinet, her soft cotton shirt lifts and exposes the bare skin of her lower back. It looks so smooth and inviting, my fingers tingle with the desire to touch her. Combined with the enticing scent of her perfume that lingers in the air, I’m rock hard and aching for her.

  Our eyes meet again and I feel like she can tell how much I want her. I skip my gaze away so I don’t scare her with the intensity of my longing.

  Once she has the table set, I pull the pasta from the stove. “Sit down, darling. You’ve done more than enough.”

  “But--” She starts to protest, but I give her a look that tells her I mean it. I smirk when she slides into the chair.

  She watches quietly as I drain the pasta, adding the sauce as I plate our dinner. I take my time to ensure I do her beautiful meal justice. My mouth is watering from the scent of the sauce, as well as the sight of her at the dinner table.

  I’m suddenly famished.

  “This all looks incredible, Amelia,” I tell her as I sit in the chair across from her. She hides her proud grin with another sip of wine. “Where did you learn to cook like this? You could teach our Esme a thing or two.”

  “My mother taught me a few basic recipes, but Esme’s a much better baker than I could ever be. Have you tried her peanut butter chocolate chip cookies? It’s like heaven in your mouth.”

  I arch an eyebrow at her choice of words and she visibly reddens. I want to reach across the table and caress her cheeks, but I know it’s not the time. “Those are my favorite, as well.”

  I watch as she takes a bite of the pasta, her eyes closing in appreciation. The sight is so erotic, I’m afraid my dick is going to split my pants wide open. Then she moans softly and I have to plant my feet on the floor to keep from launching myself across the table at her. I shove some pasta in my mouth to keep from saying something too forward.

  Her eyes are glued to my mouth while I savor the meal that she has lovingly prepared. “What do you think?”

  I keep my eyes locked on hers as I chew. “I think this is the most delicious thing I’ve ever had the pleasure of tasting, Amelia.” It’s obvious by her face that her mind is playing out filthy images as well. I brush my fingers over hers, pleased when she doesn’t pull her hand away.

  Interesting.
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br />   The rest of the meal is enjoyed in a sexually charged silence, each of us wondering if the other will make a move. I’m hesitant to be the first to step over the line of friendship, knowing her heart has just been shattered by her long-term boyfriend, but I have no idea how much longer I can go without touching her.

  When we’ve both had our fill, she rises to her feet to start cleaning up.

  I place a hand on her arm to stop her. “What did I say, love? You sit down and relax, I’ve got this.” I collect the plates and bring them to the sink.

  “I can’t let you do that, Griff.” I swallow back the grin that wants to overtake my face at the nickname. “This dinner was supposed to be to thank you.” She rests her hands over mine to stop me, and I swear I feel a spark.

  Her eyes rise to meet mine, and it’s like the air around us has filled with electricity. There is so much chemistry crackling around us, my nerves are on fire. Her tongue is running along her lower lip and I want so badly to kiss her. I realize she’s thinking the same thing when she rolls onto her tip toes and brings her face to mine.

  Her lips are even softer and sweeter than I’d imagined. And believe me, I’ve spent a lot of time imagining. She presses them against mine tentatively, as if she’s afraid I don’t want this.

  She could not be more wrong.

  I cup the back of her head and draw her closer, brushing over her lips with a far more tender touch than I want. If it were up to me, I’d be devouring her right now, but I don’t want to scare her off. When her tongue sweeps inside my mouth, I know it’s over for me.

  Eight

  AMELIA

  Griffin tastes incredible—like the sweetest wine combined with the darkest desire—and I never want to stop kissing him. His hands wrap around the backs of my thighs and he lifts me up onto the counter. His teeth graze my bottom lip as he tugs it into his mouth, and a whimper slips from my throat.

  “God, Amelia. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to kiss you,” he sighs, and my heart flutters in my chest.

  I know that no matter his answer, I’ve wanted this longer. Since that night back in college... “Then don’t stop. Keep kissing me, Griff. Everywhere.” My voice is a husky whisper, so thick with lust I barely recognize the sound.

  He swallows hard, shaking his head, and I know immediately that I won’t like what he says next. “As much as I would love that, darling, there’s just one problem.”

  I look up at him with wide eyes, waiting for an answer that I don’t want to hear.

  “I want you, I want this so badly, but I would hate myself if you found yourself regretful in the morning. Just yesterday you were in a relationship with another man, and tonight we’ve both been drinking. I’m afraid we need to stop here.”

  I pull back as if I’d been slapped. While the logical part of my brain knows he’s just being a gentleman and doing the right thing, the sensitive part feels the sting of rejection. That familiar self-doubt creeps in and holds on tight, making me feel unworthy of his attention.

  “Um. Right, okay.” I slide down from my perch on the counter and keep my gaze trained on the floor. “I’m going to go to bed, I guess. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  “Amelia, love, please understand--” I hear him call after me, but I don’t stop walking until I’m safely in bed and under the covers.

  There, in the dark, I can let the tears fall. I sniffle back a whimper as I wonder why nobody wants me.

  At twenty-three years old, I’ve never been touched by a man. I promised my mother I’d wait until I was in love, and before tonight I thought I’d be content with that.

  But Griffin’s touch makes me want to feel more. I want his powerful hands wrapped around my body, exploring places no one else has seen. I want his warm, soft lips trailing up the insides of my thighs. I shiver at the thought of his mouth on my most intimate places. I whimper again, but this time, from arousal. The blood begins pumping through my chest as I picture his body stretching over mine.

  Then I remember the way he brushed off my affections, and the sadness crashes down on me again. With a groan, I roll onto my side and pray for sleep to put me out of my misery.

  It never comes though, and before I know it, the morning sun’s rays are filtering through the bedroom. I know I must look awful, with heavy bags beneath my eyes and tangled hair from tossing and turning. I can’t bear to face Griffin after I’ve thrown myself at him like some wanton woman.

  After briefly debating going home, I remember that anything I face here is better than the paparazzi hiding outside my door. I don’t want to answer questions about Joseph, so I’m trapped here at least for the next few days.

  I pull on a black tank top and jeans, applying a little makeup and running a brush through my hair. I wait until I hear the water turn on in the shower before sneaking downstairs and out the door. I’ll spend the day in town and out of Griffin’s way, so that he can get his work done and I don’t have to embarrass myself. I remember seeing a coffee shop and a bookstore, both of which can keep me busy for hours.

  Twenty minutes later, I’m perusing the bookshop. I’ve grabbed two novels already and am skimming the back of a third, when I hear the jingle of the door.

  “Hey, Donovan,” the woman behind the register calls to the man who’s just entered. “You’re looking especially dapper today.”

  The man smiles at her, a friendly grin that has my insides feeling warmer already. “Thank you, Trix. You’re always a sight for sore eyes.”

  I briefly wonder if they have a flirtation going, when she lifts her hand to brush the black hair back from her face. The diamond glistening from her hand speaks for itself. “I’ll tell Joe you think so,” she teases. I find myself smiling at their banter. “Looking for anything special today?”

  “Nah. Just something to keep me busy during the lull between lunch and dinner. I’ll tell ya, I’m looking forward to the holiday season.”

  “Same here. Things have been too quiet lately.” She hands him a stack of hardback books, while I pretend to scan another romance novel. “Even for me.”

  “What’s all this?” He pulls the books from her hands with a grin.

  “Just some new ones I think you may like. Have a seat, check ‘em out.” She gestures to the table beside the register, and I walk over with my haul.

  “Thanks, Trix. You’re a doll.” He meets my eye, throwing me a wink before settling in at the table, and I feel a blush cover my cheeks. I set my books down on the counter and smile at the woman behind the register.

  “Good morning,” she says to me. “Haven’t seen you in here before. I’m Trix Nolan.”

  “Amelia Channing. I’m just in town visiting a friend.” I feel Donovan’s eyes on me, but I don’t look over at him.

  “Nice to meet you, Amelia. Who is it you’re visiting?” I hesitate, narrowing my eyes. “I make it my business to know everyone in this town,” she says with a conspiratorial smile.

  “You’ll have to excuse her. Trix is the town busybody,” Donovan quips, and I finally swing my gaze over to him. He’s truly handsome in an All-American sort of way, with spiky brown hair and dark chocolate eyes. He’s muscular in all the right places, but dressed on the preppy side, wearing a black polo shirt and fitted jeans. His lopsided grin makes me smile.

  “Ah. Well, in that case, my friend is Griffin Parker. Actually, his sister Esme, but Griffin’s been staying at her cottage.” I realize I’m babbling, but I can’t help it. Any kind of attention makes me nervous.

  “Griff! He’s a great guy,” Donovan says. “He’s in my coffee shop a few times a week.”

  “Oh, you own the coffee shop? That was my next stop, actually.” I hand my credit card to Trix, who is quietly watching our interaction. She runs my card without saying a word, as if she’s enjoying the show.

  “Well, then. Allow me to walk you over there.”

  “Sure,” I say, and grab my bag. I hear Trix snicker as I follow him out the door.

  Nine

&nbs
p; GRIFFIN

  I know immediately when I step out of the shower that Amelia’s not home. I had a feeling she wouldn’t stick around today, but I still feel disappointment rushing over me. All I can think of is that I need to apologize for hurting her feelings. I find myself spending the entire morning watching the clock instead of working on my book.

  A sudden buzz of my cell against my desk has me jumping up faster than I’d ever admit. My heart races as I lift the screen, hoping to see Amelia’s name. My happiness quickly deflates when I see it’s only Trix, the owner of the town book shop.

  “Hey, Trix,” I say, hoping she can’t hear my disappointment.

  “Griffin, hey! How’s the writing going? Every copy of your last thriller has been sold out for months,” she hints and I shake my head.

  “It’s going, I suppose. But this one isn’t a thriller, so I’m not certain it will be such a hot seller.”

  “Anything you write will sell, honey. My customers all love the stories by the handsome town recluse.” I can hear her playful smile through the phone.

  “Alright, Trix. I know you didn’t call just to feed my ego. What’s going on, love?”

  She snickers softly. “You know me too well. I just met your new houseguest.” My breath catches in my throat. “You know, the one with long blonde hair and curves like a winding road? Gorgeous girl.”

  I pause, unsure what to say. Trix is known for her big heart, but her mouth is even bigger. “Yes, that’s Amelia Channing. A friend of Esme’s.” I hear the way my voice falters, and know Trix can see right through my feigned indifference.

  “Oh, a friend of Esme’s? Well, if that’s all she is, then I’m relieved. That means you won’t be upset by the fact that Donovan Chadwick has been spending the entire morning mooning over her.”