A Taste of Sugar Read online

  “That’s what happens when you tell everyone that the Founder’s Day Fair will be held at the hospital,” she explained, wondering just how many sheep made up a mob, and if they were in the clinic or just in the parking lot. Then she wondered if Woolamena was there and if she was feeling better. “They need to prep the location. Scout out places for the booths and racetrack. And the mob needs to feel out the land.”

  “They need to understand this is a place of business.” He sounded annoyed and exasperated, as though Charlotte was the one who had disrupted his carefully orchestrated world. “I can’t get anything done with the sheep charging patients and people asking the staff a dozen questions a minute about bathroom facilities and if we have a freezer big enough to hold the ice cream for the Pie à la Mode booth. I am trying to run a hospital, Charlotte, not a damn ladies’ club.”

  Charlotte ignored the burn his statement left. “Then let Darleen know she needs to come back at another time.”

  “I tried,” he explained. “That woman doesn’t do well with the word no.”

  Actually, Darleen didn’t do well with losing, either, but Charlotte kept that to herself. She quite liked the idea of her father and Darleen butting heads for a few weeks. They were perfectly suited to drive each other insane—creating less time to drive her insane.

  “Which is why I need you to get down here, so you can straighten this all out,” he explained in a tone that left no room for argument.

  Too bad for him, Charlotte was in the mood to argue. She was emotional and confused and a little unraveled at the edges. “Sorry, Dad. I can’t do that today. I have Kenny O’Neil coming in for tests at noon, plus a new patient was sent over from Magnolia Falls needing a second opinion. My schedule is booked.”

  “Ben can handle the second opinion and Kenny,” he said, completely discounting the fact that the doctor had wanted Charlotte to give the second opinion because he valued her input. Not that Ben wasn’t a great doctor, he was, but Charlotte was the best doctor for this particular patient.

  Charlotte was quiet for a moment, gathering her courage. Trying to find ground in the middle of the emotional hurricane brewing in her core. Trying to silence the obedient little girl wanting her dad’s approval. Trying to be the person she knew she was capable of being.

  “That mess is not mine to clean up,” she explained. Thankfully her voice didn’t betray the fact that her hands were shaking. “And you should have talked to me before rearranging my schedule.”

  “I was trying to make your week easier,” he said as though she was being the unreasonable one. “Let Ben handle your patients or not, I don’t care, as long as the parade of chaos is under control by end of day.”

  That was it. No explanation, no apology for changing her schedule without consulting her. Even worse, her dad had no idea that what he’d done was wrong.

  “I will come in when my shift starts. At noon, as a doctor, not a social planner,” she clarified, proud of herself.

  She could hear her father’s shock through the phone. He was used to her being a yes-girl. Depended on her being a yes-girl. Only Charlotte was tired of being that girl, tired of being overlooked, overworked, and underappreciated.

  “You’ll need to handle Darleen yourself, Dad. I can give you her number, if that makes it easier,” she said, and silently cringed at the last part. God, when had she become such a brownnoser?

  “What would make it easier is for you to remember that this is a family business, Charlotte. Which means that there is no room for ego or pride,” said the most egotistical and prideful man Charlotte knew. “Going above and beyond is how we have maintained a successful and respected medical practice at a time when clinics like ours are closing up. It is how your mother and I provided the kind of lifestyle you were fortunate enough to have.”

  “I understand that, Dad, and I—”

  “Good, because this week, I need you to step up, do what needs to be done to insure that Mercy Alliance signs on that line. If it means planning a fair, then I suggest you get your mother on the phone, throw one of your little meetings, whatever the hell you have to do so I can do my job.” Reginald disconnected.

  Charlotte stared at the screen, waiting for the anger to come, for the injustice to settle. It didn’t. The only emotion she felt was this big hole of disappointment in her chest that was slowly sucking the life out of her. And she knew that if she didn’t do something soon, it would be too late.

  She didn’t mind stepping up or even getting dirty. There wasn’t much she wouldn’t do if it meant making Sugar Medical a success, meant getting the townspeople here the best medical care available. But her job wasn’t cleaning up someone else’s mess.

  She set her phone on the coffee table and looked up to see a shadow move out of the corner of her eye. A good-looking, beautifully built shadow with crystal blue eyes and an understanding smile that made everything inside of her still.

  “You okay?”

  She cleared her throat, trying to hide the emotion pushing its way up. “I’m fine.”

  “You’re a terrible liar, Charlie,” he said, and she laughed, strangled and a little desperate, but it was better than crying. “Because your face is saying that call totally sucked.”

  “I am. And it did.” There went that laugh again. Oh God, was that tears she heard in her voice? “It totally sucked.”

  Jace pushed off the wall and walked closer. His body moved like a predator’s stalking its prey, but his eyes were open and unguarded, full of concern. For her. Which made the urge to cry even stronger. So she dropped her gaze to his chest, a safer place than those understanding blue pools, except now her mouth was watering, because all she could think about was how that broad, strong body had held her close all night. Taken her mind off the terrible day and made her feel safe. A feeling she desperately wanted to experience again.

  “Want to talk about it?” he asked quietly.

  “I’m fine, really,” she lied, because who wanted to admit that they were a coward? Especially to a man who had shoulders big enough to balance the world and all its problems? But the second he was within arm’s length, she caved like a weepy meringue.

  “You’re holding out on me, Charlie.”

  She shook her head, only to have it turn to a nod midshake, because she was holding out. Big-time. And not just about the call. Charlotte was letting her fear of failing, her fear of disappointing people, stop her from living. And wasn’t that the point of all of this? To live a life without regrets? To find some kind of balance?

  Unable to resist the pull and needing to feel his touch, she stood and slid her arms around his middle. And God, his arms closed around her, and she decided that was where she wanted to spend the day. Right there, tucked into his warm body.

  As though sensing her needs, Jace pulled her closer, wrapping himself all the way around her, and she felt his warmth and support radiate through every cell. A six-foot-four hard-bodied, protective male wrapped around her was exactly what she needed. Charlotte nuzzled her face into his neck and breathed him in. He smelled so good, she did it again, and again, until her heart was beating to the steady rhythm of his and the urge to cry was replaced with acceptance.

  He didn’t press her to answer his question. Didn’t pry or rush her. Just patiently held her, his hand easing up and down her spine in comforting passes, giving her the time she needed to think things through. Make a plan.

  She had forgotten that about Jace. He didn’t judge or demand or push, he was a nurturer at heart. Patient and gentle and soft at his core. Funny thing to say about a man who was the size of a mountain. But he lived to take care of the people he loved, even if sometimes he went about it the wrong way. And in that moment, she could almost believe he loved her enough to make everything okay.

  She knew she should let go, take a step back, and get it under control. She was an emotional hot mess, primed to make epically stupid decisions. But she’d forgotten how nice it felt to be taken care of, to have someone else be th
e strong one, so she held on.

  He held her back, and when she was no longer afraid she’d crumble, she asked, “Do you ever wish you could be someone else?”

  “Every day.” No hesitation, no apologies. Nope, Jace McGraw spoke those words like he was an expert on the subject, and something about that appealed to her.

  She looked up. “And what do you do?”

  He brushed her hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her cheek. “Remind myself that I can be anyone I want. That nothing defines me but myself. Not the past, or people’s misconceptions, nothing but me. And if that doesn’t work I pretend that it did.”

  “Does it work? Pretending?” she asked, because even the way the word fell from her lips felt bold and reckless and so incredibly freeing that a thrilling giddiness bubbled up inside of her.

  “Sometimes,” he whispered, and there was something about the weariness in his tone, the strain bracketing his mouth, and the shadows that were always right beneath the surface that pulled her all the way in, broke through her fear and her walls. Because like her, Jace had struggled to balance happiness with outside expectations, and he’d won. But being home was a reminder of who he’d once been.

  “Who do you want to be right now?” she asked.

  “The guy who makes you smile.” He cupped her cheek and she leaned into his hand. “Who do you want to be, Charlie?”

  “The woman you married,” she admitted, hating that her throat tightened around the words. “I want to be the woman who was driven and focused and liked to bowl, even though my best game was a sixty-eight. The woman who wasn’t afraid to say no, or yes, or scream when I was mad. I want to be the woman I am proud of and not the woman who makes people proud.” Now that she was started, she realized that there were so many things she’d wanted and denied herself because it wasn’t polite or proper or, God forbid, perfect.

  And she was staring one down.

  Which left her two options. Go into work, establish peace in the parking lot, and make her dad pleased. But she knew how that would turn out, had been living that life for nearly thirty years. Even when she’d been with Jace her parents had weighed in on her every decision. If they hadn’t, she wouldn’t have hidden their relationship just because they’d married so fast. Or because she’d married someone who didn’t fit the mold of what a Holden should be.

  The other option was to give herself over to the experience with Jace, give him that “more” he was asking for, and give them a chance. A real chance to see where it could lead.

  Option one was the safe choice. But the only way she was going to be that woman she’d described, find happiness and balance, was with Jace.

  He might not be the safe choice, but the way her heart fluttered when she was around him and her body melted when she touched him told her that he was the right one. No question. She didn’t know for how long or what the fallout would be when he left, but she knew she couldn’t walk away. She was already in too deep. And making his chosen zip code a prerequisite, putting more expectations and guidelines on what he could give, what he had to become for her to accept his offer, wouldn’t be fair.

  To either of them.

  Jace had asked for one thing. Just one. And Charlotte had countered with a grocery list of demands, all of which he accepted without question. So she would put that same faith in him, give herself over to the experience, risk the heartache for the chance at that elusive more.

  “Right now I want to be the woman who shares your morning coffee,” she said, walking over to grab his boots. “After I go put these in the bedroom.”

  Chapter 15

  A light breeze shifted through the fog and across Sugar Lake, rustling the willows that sat on the bank and sending leaves from the distant oak trees fluttering down in a fire-colored snowfall. There was a stillness to the world—the only sound was the boat gently gliding through the water. Charlotte skimmed her fingers across the top layer of water, watching it ripple all the way to the shoreline and lap against her dock.

  “It’s like we are the only two people in the world,” she said, looking at her house, which butted up against a small channel off Sugar Lake. With her nearest neighbor separated by a grove of peach trees, it was secluded and peaceful—and exactly what she’d needed right then.

  “I call it the Sugar experience without all of the chatter,” he said, and Charlotte turned to smile at him, only to find he was looking back, not an ounce of amusement in his expression. There was a heaviness clouding his eyes, and underneath a resigned acceptance that tugged at her heart.

  “Is this how you’ve been getting to my house unseen?”

  “Yup,” Jace said, like it was no big deal, driving the oars through the water, the muscles in his arms bunching and coiling with every stroke. “I park my truck at Cal’s then paddle over at night. In the morning I paddle back, get in my truck, and drive into town. Very stealthy if you ask me.”

  It was also very sweet that he was doing all of that to protect her privacy. So she felt awful admitting, “Glory knows. About you sneaking over here. And about Atlanta.”

  “Well, shit,” he said on a tired chuckle. “All this sneaking around and you went ahead and took an ad out in the PennySaver.”

  “I only told Glory, because she kind of figured it out, like Ben. Trust me, they won’t tell a soul.” She had complete faith in her friends. Since moving back to Sugar, Charlotte had forged some wonderful relationships with some extraordinary people, Glory topping that list. And she trusted them implicitly.

  “She doesn’t have to tell a soul, just her soul mate. And then Cal will tell Brett, because when those two get together they gossip like a bunch of old grannies. Gabbing about kids, wives, and family, everything under the sun.” He paused, letting the ores dangle. “Or under their sun, and baby, that includes me and mine.”

  A warm tingle started low in her belly at the mention of her being his. “As long as Hattie doesn’t find out—”

  “About that.”

  “Please tell me your grandmother doesn’t know about Atlanta. Or the stairwell,” she whispered the last part, knowing that if it was true she couldn’t look Hattie in the eye ever again.

  “God no,” he said, and shivered, equally horrified by the idea. “Just about the annulment.” Right, because that was so much better. “The original letter sent from the recorder’s office about the misfiling went to the house. She signed for it and, being Hattie, ignored the big Jace printed on the envelope and just acknowledged the McGraw part.”

  “She opened it and then kept her mouth shut?” That ranked a ginormous zero on the believability chart.

  “She never even mentioned a word of it to me until last week. She claims she was giving us time to figure things out.”

  “Four years is a long time to keep a secret.” A flutter of unease and a whole lot of guilt lodged in her chest at the statement. It got stronger when she realized Jace was still deceiving his family, rowing across Sugar Lake every day. Twice a day. Just because of her rules.

  So was she.

  Sure, the thought of everyone thinking they were shacking up sounded about as fun as a root canal. Telling everyone the truth, only to have him leave and have everyone give her the Oh, poor Charlotte look for the rest of eternity sounded even worse. But asking the man she’d married to lie to his family was beyond selfish.

  “You don’t have to keep rowing across the lake,” she said, adopting as much conviction as she could. She even straightened her shoulders. “I don’t care what people say.”

  Eyes on her, he set the ores inside the boat and let it glide with the current, back toward her dock. “Yes, you do, and that’s okay.”

  God, she was transparent. “I don’t want to care.”

  “I know,” he said in a gentle way that had her going all melty. “But caring is who you are. You care about how it would affect your parents, your ability to do your job, your ability to move forward in this town. And those are all important things.”

  “Bu
t what about what you want?”

  “I want to show you I’m worth the risk. That’s all. I’m not here to prove to anyone else who I am except for you. So as long as you know the truth and what’s real, the rest of it doesn’t matter.”

  “Ah-huh, then why did you kiss me in front of Ben?” she asked, because she didn’t buy what he was selling.

  Jace shrugged a shoulder, just one, but it still jostled the boat. “He’d already seen my hands on your ass. In case he was too distracted by that thong to notice my hands there, I wanted to make myself clear.”

  She laughed. “Because he has a key?”

  He leaned forward, their knees brushing, and as he shifted closer she could see the God’s honest truth in his eyes. “Because I’m not him, Charlie.”

  Her chest tightened for the man who was so strong but carried so much pain. Pain he wore on his skin, in his stance, to hide the wounded boy beneath.

  “I don’t have fancy degrees or season tickets to the opera. I don’t golf or have a membership in some exclusive club that doesn’t revolve around engines or horsepower,” he explained. “And I have nothing in common with your family. And that scares me.”

  It should scare Charlotte, too, but it didn’t. It was exhilarating. She liked that Jace was different, that he saw beauty in the simple things in life. That he would rather watch a movie in bed than go to a gala, swing a fishing rod over a golf club, and would never consider hiring someone to work on his house, because getting down and dirty didn’t bother him. She liked that he was the kind of man who’d spend an entire afternoon teaching a bunch of old ladies how to change a tire and his down-time fixing a car to make his grandma happy—even though Charlotte knew being home was tearing him up inside.

  And she loved that he loved to take care of people—to take care of her.

  “If I wanted to be with someone like you described, I’d be with Ben,” she said quietly. “But that’s not what I want.”

  “What do you want?”