Candy Crush Page 26

  “Getting reacquainted?” Emmett suggested with a smirk.

  “Sleeping, mostly,” Gabriella commented. Neither Emmett nor Courtney looked as if they believed her. She flushed while Brandon chuckled.

  Finally, when everyone had a cup of coffee and they were munching on cookies, Gabriella said, “So tell us what we’ve missed.”

  Emmett told them. “Miguel, Alonzo and Hector are all in jail. The authorities are sorting out all the details, trying to figure out who gets what and who. They may already be on their way back to Dallas by now. Or even Mexico.”

  “What about Daniel?” Gabriella asked, and immediately winced when she realized Daniel was probably more of a sore subject with Courtney than with Brandon.

  “It’s okay,” Courtney said. “We’ve talked about it.” She glanced at Emmett through her eyelashes, an almost shy look. He smiled warmly in return.

  “He’s in the hospital, but he’s recovering. He woke up and told the police that Hector and Alonzo beat him up, not you, Brandon.”

  Brandon balled his fist. “I can’t believe it was him all along. He had it set up perfectly. That’s why he was always the first cop on the scene whenever something happened to Gabriella. He was the one making things happen.”

  “He gave them a name, and they were able to pick up the kid they think threatened you at the mall. They want you to go in at some point and make a positive ID,” Emmett said, talking to Gabriella.

  She nodded absently. “What will happen to Daniel?” she asked.

  Emmett shook his head. “Once he’s recovered enough, he’ll probably go to jail. He killed that Mr. Partridge” –

  “Allegedly,” Courtney reminded him.

  “Allegedly,” Emmett ground out. “Anyway, he has seven years worth of crimes to answer to. He won’t get out for a long, long time.”

  “Are you okay with that?” Gabriella asked, looking at Courtney.

  Courtney shrugged. “I think he deserves it. I hate that he’s Laney’s biological father, but he hasn’t had anything to do with her life up to this point, so it isn’t like she’ll miss out on anything.”

  “What about the money in the cellar?” Brandon asked. Gabriella had told him about the money earlier in the day.

  “What money?” Emmett asked, sounding confused.

  “The cellar – there’s a cellar underneath the candy store. There’s a bunch of boxes of money down there. I found them yesterday.” It was hard to believe it had only been yesterday. Already, it seemed like a lifetime ago.

  Emmett frowned. “I don’t know. I’m not sure anyone else knows about it.”

  “It belonged to the family that originally owned the candy store. If I can track them down, I’ll give it to them,” Gabriella said firmly.

  “You can track them down,” Brandon said confidently. “This is a small town. Everyone knows everyone. I bet my parents know if anyone from the family is still in the area.”

  “Speaking of parents,” Courtney said. “We are actually here to drag you back to our parents’ house. They want you over for dinner, and since you wouldn’t answer any of your phones, we were sent to pull you out of hiding.”

  They all laughed and Gabriella said, “I guess I’d better go get ready.”

  “At least our sex life shouldn’t be the main topic of conversation this time,” Brandon commented and Gabriella punched him in the shoulder before hurrying upstairs to make herself more presentable.

  ***

  Much later that evening, after dinner, a lot of wine, and plenty of reassurance that they were all fine, Brandon and Gabriella were, once again, cuddled together in his bed. “This feels really good,” Brandon commented and Gabriella murmured her assent. “So, you’re free and clear to open up the candy store now,” he said, and Gabriella heard the hesitation in his voice. She rolled onto her side so she could face him.

  “True,” she said.

  “Or you could sell it. Now that the jinx has been alleviated, I’m sure someone would buy it.”

  “You want me to sell the candy store?” Gabriella asked in confusion.

  “No. I’m just laying out your options. Now that Miguel has been captured, you’re free to go back to Dallas. If you want to.”

  Gabriella figured out the hesitation in his voice. She smiled. “True. I am free to go back to Dallas.”

  Brandon held his breath as she paused to consider her next words.

  “But I think I’d rather stay in Holly.”

  Brandon exhaled sharply.

  “And I think I’ll try to rent out the apartment for some extra income.”

  Brandon leaned forward and kissed her. “Have I mentioned that I love you?” he murmured against her lips.

  “No,” she whispered.

  “Sorry, because I meant to. Yesterday, actually. I love you.”

  Gabriella put her hands on his cheeks and pushed him away so she could look into his eyes. “Oh Brandon, I love you too.”

  EPILOGUE – THANKSGIVING DAY

  Brandon stepped up to the foot of the stairs. “Gabriella, we’re going to be late,” he called out, impatience all but vibrating in his voice.

  “I can’t decide what to wear,” she responded.

  Brandon sighed and climbed the stairs. He walked into the bedroom and his breath caught in his throat. Gabriella stood in the doorway of the brand new walk-in closet. Her hands were on her hips and her hair tumbled around her shoulders in a mass of blond waves. She wore a pink lace bra and matching panties and a pair of nude thigh high stockings. Brandon stepped into the room and loosened his tie. He snaked his arms around her waist, lifted her hair and kissed her neck. When she felt her bra unsnap, she turned around to face him.

  “What are you doing? We have to get going,” she protested.

  Brandon slipped his hand between her legs and promised, “We’ll make this one quick. I’ll make it up to you later.”

  ***

  Forty-five minutes later, they both had sappy grins on their faces as they walked up to the front door of the Main Street Pizza Parlor. Thanksgiving was a large affair in the Sarantos family, and the only place that could hold everyone was the Pizza Parlor. Brandon turned and lifted Gabriella’s hand, dropping a kiss into the palm. “I have a surprise for you.”

  “I certainly liked the first one,” she said coyly.

  Instead of marinara sauce, the Pizza Parlor smelled like turkey and stuffing, sweet potatoes and most important of all: pumpkin pie. The noise level was deafening as everyone tried to talk over the person next to them, telling jokes, recounting their day, talking about the kids’ latest grades in school.

  Gabriella looked around the room. She spotted Nicole, Anthony and Anthony Junior, sitting at a table with Nicole’s parents. Patrick was there and Gabriella was thrilled to see him with his arm draped across the chair behind Natalie Reager’s back. He twirled a lock of her hair and she smiled adoringly at him. Gabriella watched as Rosalie walked up and gave Natalie a warm hug. Clearly, she approved of Natalie and Patrick’s relationship.

  Gabriella continued her perusal of the room and spotted Jared. His hand hovered possessively near the small of Stephanie’s back. It still shocked Gabriella to see them together. But they have been dating for six weeks now, and it felt genuine.

  No one was more surprised than Jared himself. He joked that Brandon took all the fun out of chasing women by settling down with Gabriella, so there was no competition anymore. But Gabriella knew he was bluffing, because she could see the love in his eyes when he looked at Stephanie. She was willing to bet they would be married by next summer, especially if Stephanie had anything to say about it.

  Brandon’s Aunt Constance bustled up and gave her a bone-crushing hug. “Too bad that candy store’s doing so well. You’re a much more exciting admin than Elizabeth,” she said as she released Gabriella and jabbed her thumb over her left shoulder.

  Brandon’s cousin Elizabeth was squeezed into a booth with her husband and four children. The youngest child had st
arted kindergarten in September, and just about the time Gabriella was ready to open the candy store and thus could no longer work for Constance, Elizabeth had been desperate to find a job so that she could reacquaint herself with the adult world. Despite Constance’s blustering, the two women got along swimmingly.

  Her eyes finally fell onto her brother. Laney was perched on one knee with Courtney on the other. Gabriella rolled her eyes because she was pretty sure his hand was inside Courtney’s shirt. Emmett laughed at something and Gabriella shifted her glance to see who had caused him to laugh…

  And she spotted her parents!

  “Mom and dad?” she said, making it sound like a question.

  “Surprise,” Brandon whispered in her ear. He squeezed her shoulder and then grabbed her hand and pulled her across the room to where her parents were sitting with Emmett and Courtney.

  Gabriella’s eyes filled with tears, and they spilled over once she was standing in front of her parents. As soon as they saw her they both leapt out of their seats.

  “Gabriella!” they said in unison, and then there was a moment of chaos as everyone tried to hug each other and Gabriella tried to introduce her parents and Brandon.

  “We’ve already met,” Brandon said with a mysterious smile. “I arranged for them to fly up here for Thanksgiving.” Gabriella released her mother and clung to Brandon, not even bothering to swipe away the tears.

  “I love you so much,” she mumbled into his shirt and he chuckled and dropped a kiss on her head. Brandon’s parents wandered over. They too had already met Gabriella’s parents. Emmett cleared his throat and the group all shifted their focus to him.

  “I have an exciting announcement to make,” he began.

  Rosalie looked horrified and Courtney groaned and said, “I’m not pregnant, mom.”

  “On Monday I accepted a new job. I’m going to be based out of the Detroit area. And only minimal traveling.” Courtney beamed and everyone else offered his or her congratulations.

  Gabriella glanced at Brandon and saw that he looked distinctly relieved. The relationship between Emmett and Courtney had progressed at an alarming rate, despite the fact that they only saw each other on weekends and Emmett until now had been based in New Orleans. Brandon worried constantly about how the relationship could possibly work under those circumstances.

  “I’d be willing to take that apartment you can’t seem to rent, Gabby.”

  Now it was Gabriella’s turn to look relieved. She’d managed – with lots of help from the Sarantos family – to open her candy store in time for Halloween, and sales have been brisk. She had been right when she guessed that a candy store would be perfect for the historic downtown district. Unfortunately, the apartment had not been so easy to rent. The locals were still a little leery of the idea of sleeping over top the jinxed candy store.

  “I’m sure your interest in renting the apartment has nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that Courtney is working weekends at the candy store,” she noted dryly.

  Brandon opened his mouth as if he intended to protest, and Gabriella placed her palm on his chest. “It makes perfect sense,” she said, talking directly to him. “I don’t intend to use it for myself any time soon.”

  “Speaking of,” her mother interrupted. “What is this nonsense about you shying away from the idea of marriage?”

  Gabriella gave her a blank look, until she caught movement out of the corner of her eye and turned to see Brandon tugging at his shirt collar. She narrowed her eyes and he hastily said, “I only told them so they wouldn’t pressure you while they were visiting.”

  “Told them what? I don’t have any issues with getting married.”

  Brandon stared at her as if her hair had suddenly burst into flames. He shook his head and said, “Yes you do. Don’t you remember getting mad at me because I joked about getting married?”

  Gabriella rolled her eyes. “That was ages ago. Back when I was still afraid Miguel would find me and force me to marry him. We haven’t talked about it a single time since then.”

  “That’s because I didn’t want to fight with you,” Brandon protested. “Are you telling me that you will marry me?”

  “Are you asking?” she demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Then yes, I will.”

  They stared at each other for a few moments, both shocked into silence, until the entire restaurant erupted into applause, cheers and catcalls. Gabriella’s face flushed as she smiled and shook her head. Brandon grinned and pulled her into his arms and sealed the deal with a kiss that was hot enough to earn its own round of applause and catcalls.

  Gabriella laughed. “Did that just happen?”

  “Did I just trick you into agreeing to marry me? Yep.”

  She laughed again. “I don’t think you tricked me. I want to marry you.”

  “Well that’s a relief, considering I’ve already decided you’re stuck with me for the rest of your life.”

  Gabriella didn’t think his proclamation was a bad thing. He was stuck with her, too. For the rest of his life.

  The End ###

  Want more from author Tami Lund? Turn the page for a preview of The Resort.

  THE RESORT

  TAMI LUND

  Published by Tami Lund

  Copyright 2013 Tami Lund

  CHAPTER ONE

  It wasn’t one of my better days. It was one of those days where you think, I should have just stayed in bed.

  I’ve just been caught trying to climb over a stone wall to sneak into a party that I had no business trying to sneak into. The people mingling, drinking and eating on the other side of that wall were so outside my social circles, heck I didn’t even have social circles. I don’t know what I was thinking. Of course, that tends to be my problem: I don’t think. Or at least, I don’t think things through.

  I found myself being manhandled by a guy in a black tux, with black hair and black eyes, and I was more distracted by his sexiness than the fact that he was demanding to know why I was trying to scale the wall. He had a grip like a vise on my upper arm and he gave me another shake.

  “Stop shaking me,” I snapped, finally getting past the sexy lock of hair that drooped over his left eyebrow and the eyes that looked like deep pools of black water and my curiosity over what that chest looked like without the tuxedo shirt.

  “Why? Afraid I might shake something loose?” His voice was deep and sounded a little rusty, and I could hear the amusement in it. Great, now he was laughing at me.

  “Who the hell are you?” I demanded with a lot more bravado than I felt.

  Earlier in the day, I’d been fired from my job. That job was as a banquet server in the very resort I was now trying to sneak into. I was fired because during a small lunch function, one of the guests pushed me into a corner and tried to feel me up. When my knee connected with his gonads, my boss swept me away, through the kitchen and out the backdoor. He told me I should have let the guest have his way. He suggested I might have gotten a nice tip out of it. I told him I gave the guest a tip instead and he told me to leave and not come back.

  After I moped around at home, feeling sorry for myself because I lost yet another job and wasn’t sure how in the world I was going to pay my car note this month, inspiration struck, and I suddenly decided that I deserved to be at this party tonight. It was my right. I didn’t particularly have anything to back up that reasoning, but I went with it anyway.

  I lived in a tiny town in northern Michigan called Lovejoy. Classy, right? The town was located on a river named Messenger River, which fed into Messenger Lake and eventually to Lake Huron’s northeastern shore. Lovejoy was a tourist town without a whole lot of tourists.

  Nearly everyone who actually lived there full time worked in some capacity for the tourism industry, which happened to be the second largest source of income for the state of Michigan. I assumed other parts of the state faired better with the industry, because our little town barely scraped a living each year.

 
I’ve lived in Lovejoy my entire life, aside from the four years I spent away at college (two hours away, that is). A little over two years ago, someone bought a bunch of property on the river and built a resort, and then they surrounded the resort with an eight-foot tall grey stone wall. Then they swung the gates open and the rich, powerful and elite swarmed to The Resort in droves.

  The residents of Lovejoy were originally excited about The Resort, because we all expected it to infuse our pathetic economy with some life. But we were hoodwinked. The Resort was completely self-contained and its guests had absolutely no reason to step outside those grey stone walls to explore the quaint little town next door. Our economy didn’t change, other than the fact that unemployment dipped a little, because everyone with stars in their eyes rushed to work for the resort.

  Unlike many, many of my friends and neighbors, I avoided working for The Resort until two weeks ago. But I’m sort of an accident waiting to happen, and I had a really hard time not screwing up my jobs, and I’ve run out of options. Unfortunately, I still had bills to pay, so I trudged up to the gate and requested an application from the guard.

  I have a college education. It’s a Liberal Arts degree, which meant I knew a little bit about a lot of different things, but not enough about any one thing to really be useful. I expected, due to my status as a college educated adult, to be offered some sort of management position.

  They gave me the choice of banquet server or dishwasher. I hated washing dishes and my car note was due, so I took the banquet server position.

  “I should be asking that question,” my man handler replied, pulling me away from my depressing employment status and back to the here and now. I heard the unmistakable sounds of amusement in his tone.

  “I’m a guest here, isn’t it obvious?” I stood tall in my red high-heeled strappy sandals, which pushed my height to the five-foot-eight or nine-range, which was about ten inches shorter than the man holding my arm, and tried to look what I assumed passed for dignified.