Candy Crush Read online

  She stirred and snuggled closer, draping one leg over his thighs. Brandon lightly brushed a finger across one of her nipples and watched as it instantly puckered. His body hardened in response. He snatched a condom off the bedside table and rolled so that he was on his stomach, between her thighs.

  Gabriella smiled and opened her eyes. “I could get used to this,” she murmured.

  He grinned and said, “My thoughts exactly.”

  An hour and a half later, Brandon leaned against the kitchen counter, sipping coffee and impatiently tapping his foot on the tile floor. “Gabriella,” he called through the ceiling, “Let’s go.”

  Since Daniel told her she could get back into her candy shop today, and they only had one car because Brandon’s truck was still at the DDA office, and it was still pouring rain, they decided to drive into the office together. And now Brandon was nearly late, again.

  “Coming,” she called as she hustled down the stairs. Brandon pushed the remote start on her car and tried not to look so damn happy to see her, as she bounced into the kitchen and poured coffee into a travel mug. She was making him late for work two days in a row – although he supposed he could not entirely blame her, since he’d been an active participant in the wonderful ritual of morning sex – and yet, he couldn’t manage to stay annoyed with her.

  A lot of firsts and nevers were happening to him since she walked into his life. First time he had to work hard to get a woman into his bed. First time he cared to do it. He felt like it was his first time – emotionally – every time they had sex. First time he’s taken a girl home to meet the family. First time his family thought he’d met the one.

  He had never let a woman interfere with his life before. Hell, he missed the high school football game on Friday, as well as watching college football on television on Saturday and pro football on Sunday. He’d never been late for work before – not that anyone would notice, since no one else on Main Street opened until ten.

  He had never been so scared as he was when Gabriella told him some man threatened her with a gun. Well, maybe he’d been more scared while he waited for Gabriella to say whether she was planning to leave town. He shook his head and walked toward the back door with Gabriella and Butter trailing behind him.

  Brandon drove, and instead of pulling up in front of the candy store, he drove around the block and splashed through the alley behind the building, until he pulled the car underneath the stairs leading to Gabriella’s apartment.

  “Why are you parking back here?” Gabriella asked.

  “Because I’m sure you want to go upstairs and check it out, and I figured I’d go with you to make sure everything is okay.”

  They dashed up the exposed stairs and Brandon quickly inserted the key and they pushed through the door into the kitchen. The apartment was cold and felt damp, because the windows had been left open to try to dissipate the smell. Gabriella could still smell it, faintly, so she made no move to close the windows. She followed Brandon as he stepped through the kitchen and glanced into the living area. The spot where the body had been found was empty and clean. It looked as if it had been cleaned with some sort of heavy duty cleaner, given that the area was brighter and lighter than the rest of the carpet. Brandon quickly walked across the room, peeked into the bedroom and bathroom, and returned to Gabriella’s side.

  “Everything else looks basically how it did when we came up here last week. Just so you know, you are not staying here. You’re still staying with me.”

  He watched as several emotions flittered across her face, before she settled for shrugging noncommittally. He considered pressing to see if she would confess what she was feeling at the moment, but really, all he wanted was her assent that she would continue to live in his house, so he let it go.

  “I’m going to stay up here and start cleaning.”

  “Are you okay?”

  “Yes, I’m fine. I’m just ready to clean it up and move past it.”

  “Okay.” He pulled her into his arms and kissed her until he was certain her toes curled. “I’ll see you at lunchtime.”

  ***

  Gabriella spent the morning cleaning the apartment. She straightened up, she threw garbage away, she decided every piece of furniture needed to go, whether because it was ruined or because it was old and outdated and wasn’t her taste anyway. She needed to ask Brandon to see if his family could reschedule to help her clean up on Saturday. By the time Brandon arrived at noon, carrying a salad, a pizza and two fountain Cokes, Gabriella was sweaty and dirty and in dire need of a shower.

  As they sat down at the small kitchen table, Gabriella commented, “I’m glad you’re not turned off by my grubbiness. It seems like I’m always filthy by noon these days.”

  Brandon looked at her with a heated expression and said, “There is nothing you could do to turn me off, Sweet Pea.”

  His eyes were so intense that Gabriella was considering suggesting a quick romp on the kitchen table. The only thing that stopped her was the fact that it probably would collapse under them and there was no other place in this apartment that she was comfortable getting naked.

  “I’m still getting grief for those damn flowers,” Brandon said as he bit into his pizza. “I called the nursery and they came out this morning and pulled them all. So at least now the barrels are all empty, instead of filled with dead flowers.”

  “Did they take soil samples?”

  Brandon gave her a quizzical look. “I don’t know. Why?”

  “Because that’s the problem. That soil is dead. Not a lick of nutrients in it. I checked a couple different barrels and they’re all the same. Probably somebody accidentally put some sort of high potency weed killer in place of fertilizer.”

  “Are you serious?” Brandon looked dumbfounded.

  “Yes. Ask them to take soil samples and have them tested.”

  “How do you know this?”

  Gabriella shrugged. “I was in charge of overseeing Miguel’s landscaping. I learned a few things from his landscapers. And I did the exact same thing on purpose, when I was trying to get him to let me go.”

  Brandon jumped up and gave her a quick, smacking kiss on the lips. “If you are right, I may have to marry you after all. I gotta go. I’m going to call the nursery and have them test the soil. You may have just made my day, Sweet Pea.” He grabbed two slices of pizza and one of the Cokes and rushed out the door.

  Gabriella frowned after him. Marry her? Was he crazy? They’ve known each other for a week. Marriage was serious business, not something to joke about after only knowing someone for a week. It was one thing for his family to make all their hints and allegations, it was quite another for Brandon to say something so – so – crazy.

  That was the only word for it: crazy.

  By the time Gabriella closed up the apartment and drove back to Brandon’s house to take another shower, she had worked herself into a state. She didn’t stop at his office to let Brandon know she was going home. She wasn’t quite ready to see him yet, and she hoped he worked late tonight.

  When she emerged from the shower, her cell phone was ringing. It was Brandon. She answered with a short, “Hello.”

  “Why didn’t you stop in to let me know you left?”

  “Didn’t think about it,” she lied.

  “Where are you?”

  “At your house.”

  “What’s wrong?”

  “Nothing.”

  Brandon instantly sounded worried. “Did something else happen?”

  Gabriella sighed. He was referring to the candy store and the supposed jinx. “No, nothing happened.”

  “Why are you being so short?”

  “What do you want, Brandon?”

  He suddenly sounded terse, matching her tone. “I haven’t been to the gym in a week. I was calling to let you know I’m going tonight, and I should be home in a little over an hour.”

  “Fine. Thanks for letting me know.”

  She hung up the phone and went into the guest bed
room to get dressed. She hadn’t moved anything into Brandon’s bedroom, mostly because the old house had tiny closets, and her clothes barely fit into this one, let alone trying to share space with his clothes in the closet in his bedroom. They were already sharing the same bathroom. So the only thing that had moved into Brandon’s bedroom was her.

  She debated whether to sleep in his bed or the guest bed tonight, and decided she’d wait and see how the evening progressed first. Maybe he’d come home and say the whole marriage comment was just a joke, and he was sorry for making tasteless jokes so early in their relationship. Maybe he’d come home and say he talked to his family and they promised to stop making ridiculous comments about her being the one. Maybe he’d come home and propose. That thought caused her to head downstairs and search for a bottle of wine.

  What would she say if he did that? She knew damn well what she would say: nothing. She was more likely to run screaming for the hills. She shivered as she stood in the living room, looking out over the gloom outside and sipping a glass of merlot. The closest she’d ever come to getting married was when Miguel announced that they were getting married so that he would not be deported.

  She dated Miguel for two years and didn’t want to marry him. She’s known Brandon for one week – hell, they weren’t even technically dating, were they? The sex was great, no, the sex was unquestionably fabulous, but you couldn’t base a marriage on fabulous sex.

  They needed to get to know each other, figure out if they truly could live with each other for the rest of their lives. She tried to ignore the little voice in the back of her mind that pointed out she knew Brandon better after one week than she’d known Miguel after two years. And that was even after she started snooping into Miguel’s business dealings.

  Gabriella was so lost in her musings that she was startled when headlights flashed across the living room and Brandon’s truck pulled into the driveway behind her car. She hurriedly sat down on the couch and flipped on the television, trying to pretend that she had been casually relaxing on a Tuesday evening, not fretting about his earlier offhanded comment about marriage.

  Brandon banged the back door shut, paused to scratch Butter’s head and then strode into the living room. Gabriella glanced up as he entered the room and felt her breath catch in her throat.

  His hair was wet and tousled and his face still glistened with sweat. He wore a black t-shirt that was soaked around the neck, armpits and down his back, and a pair of black warm up pants with a white stripe down the outside of each leg. Gabriella’s mouth started watering and she decided joking about marriage wasn’t such a bad thing after all.

  “I didn’t even shower before coming home because I couldn’t stop thinking about our phone conversation. I was half afraid you wouldn’t be here when I got home. What the hell is wrong with you?”

  Gabriella’s mouth stopped watering and her eyes narrowed. He started out okay, but then he ended with “what the hell is wrong with you.” She leapt to her feet, braced for a fight.

  “What the hell is wrong with me? Me? I don’t go spouting off about marriage every forty-five seconds. There’s nothing wrong with me. Nothing except the fact that I’ve known you for one whole week and I’ve had to endure talk about marriage more than I have for my entire life. And my mother is a girly-girl, so there’s been plenty of talk of marriage in my household!” She was nearly screaming by the end. She stopped and glared at him, chest heaving.

  Brandon blinked at her, looking much like an owl would. “That’s your problem? Seriously? Because my family makes cracks about marriage? Christ, Gabriella, lighten up. Nobody’s forcing you to do anything. They’re just jokes. Ever heard of a sense of humor?”

  “I have a sense of humor. I have a funny sense of humor. Jokes about marriage are not funny.”

  “You’re kidding me, right? You’re this pissed off because of a few cracks about getting married?” Brandon sounded incredulous, which only made Gabriella angrier. And then he switched gears. “I thought you wanted to get married? I thought it was just Miguel you didn’t want to marry?”

  Gabriella glared at him. “I dated Miguel for two years and knew I didn’t want to marry him. I’ve known you for one week.”

  “Damn Gabriella, I’m not proposing here. It was a joke. Get it? A joke.” His patronizing voice made her want to throw her glass of wine at him.

  “Yes,” she said icily. “I get it. I am fully aware of my status as one of your conquests now.”

  Brandon threw his hands in the air. “Now we’re back to my past? Things that happened before I even met you. You can’t hold that stuff against me. For Christ’s sake, Gabriella, grow up.” He turned on his heel and walked toward the stairs. “I’m going to take a shower, and then I’m going to the Pizza Parlor for dinner. I don’t feel like cooking tonight.” He stomped up the stairs.

  He was only marginally less surly when he returned to the living room twenty minutes later. “Are you coming?” he snapped and Gabriella shook her head.

  No way in hell she was going to a public place with him right now, especially one owned by his family. Which pretty much ruled out nearly anywhere she would want to go.

  Brandon pursed his lips and strode out the back door. Gabriella flopped back against the couch after his truck pulled out of the driveway and gunned down the street.

  When he returned, she was curled up under the covers in the guest bed. He opened the door and stood there for a long moment. Butter lifted her head and wagged her stubby tail.

  Gabriella was wide-awake but she didn’t dare move. She wanted him to think she was asleep. She was so damn confused by her own feelings. She was not ready to battle it out with him again tonight. Finally, with a deep sigh, he gently closed the door and walked down the hall to his own bedroom.

  ***

  Gabriella woke up early enough on Wednesday morning to hear Brandon get up and pad down the hall to the bathroom. She heard the shower, she heard him brush his teeth, she assumed he shaved, just like he did every morning. A short time later, he opened the bathroom door and headed down the hall to his bedroom. After a few moments, she heard him walk towards her bedroom and open the door. She heard Butter jump off the bed and her claws made tapping noises on the hardwood floors as she trotted out of the bedroom and down the stairs.

  She kept her eyes squeezed shut until she finally heard her bedroom door close again. She opened her eyes and rolled over onto her back, staying like that until she heard Brandon’s truck start up and pull out of the driveway. Then she finally threw back the covers and climbed out of bed. She peeked outside and was dismayed to see it was raining again.

  She was miserable. She’d slept terribly. She tossed and turned and she was cold most of the night. She missed Brandon’s body heat. And she didn’t even want to think about the morning sex she’d missed out on.

  Probably she should have gone to sleep in his bed last night, even if she was mad. She was willing to bet they would have had sex this morning, even if they were still mad at each other.

  Damn it.

  Gabriella schlepped downstairs, poured herself a cup of coffee and then dragged herself back upstairs and stood under the shower until she used all of the hot water. After blow drying the dampness out of her hair, she pulled it back into a ponytail and threw on a sweatshirt and fleece pants. She almost left without putting on makeup, but she had been trained for too long by her perfect mother, so she quickly applied powder, a little blush – which she realized she needed anyway because this state hardly ever saw the sun – and a small amount of eyeliner and mascara, which she hoped would detract from the circles under her eyes. She poured the rest of the coffee into a travel mug and she and Butter dashed out into the rain and climbed into her car.

  Instead of parking out front, she repeated Brandon’s actions from yesterday and drove through the alley and parked under the stairs behind the store. She frowned because there were muddy tracks there, more than just the ones she left yesterday. She looked up at the apartment,
but she couldn’t tell if anything was remiss. Unfortunately, she knew she wouldn’t be able to from here. She hadn’t known Mr. Partridge’s body was in her apartment until she walked halfway across the kitchen.

  One thing was for certain: she did not want to go up to that apartment alone right now. And that fear was stronger than her desire to not speak to Brandon. She hurried out of the car and stepped up to the back door of the candy store. She opened the door and Butter darted in before her. She flipped on the light and shrieked.

  The walls, which were all painted a stark white, were covered in red graffiti. Words were scrawled across the walls, most were threatening or vulgar phrases. The theme was apparent: close the candy store and get out of town. She pushed through the door to the main part of the store and was only slightly relieved that the graffiti had been relegated to the back room. She rushed straight through the candy store, unlocked the front door and hurtled herself out onto the sidewalk.

  Gabriella nearly collided with a man standing under the awning of her store. She screamed and her heart started racing, because for a moment she was sure Miguel had found her. The man was Hispanic, with dark skin and dark hair pulled back into a ponytail. He wore a brown shirt and blue jeans and some sort of logo was embroidered on his shirt in white and green embroidery.

  The man grabbed her forearms to steady her and said, “Hey, hey, lady, it’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a flash of movement and turned to see Brandon jogging across the street, his face etched with concern. As soon as he was close enough, he pulled her out of the man’s grasp and said, “Gabriella, what’s wrong? What happened? You look scared to death.”

  She shook her head. “I thought – I thought – Miguel” – She gestured at the landscaper.

  Brandon pulled her into his arms and said, “Relax. He’s from the local nursery. They’re testing the soil in the barrels, just like you suggested. It’s okay.”