Greetings from Sugartown (2 page)

"Not only was it panty-meltingly hot, it had an incredible storyline with engaging, well-developed characters."

- Christina of Love Between the Sheets

"This book had everything from sugar coated sweetness, humor, sexual chemistry, friendly banter, angst, dirty talks, sexual innuendos, and a surprising twist of events that will totally keep you hooked till the very end."

- Michelle of Give Me Books

and a half

"You HAVE to one click Welcome to Sugartown ... Not even kidding, right now I have a fierce lady boner for Carmen Jenner. I find this lady in the flesh and I'm gonna have to hump her leg or some s**t. (99% Probability of this occurring in public)."

- Lola Stark, Author of Needle's Kiss Series

and a half

Sugartown Series

Welcome to Sugartown
(Sugartown #1)

Enjoy Your Stay
(Sugartown #2)

Greetings from Sugartown
(Sugartown #3)

Now Leaving Sugartown
(Sugartown #4) Coming 2015

Taint Series

Revelry
(Taint #1) Coming Soon

Closer
(Taint #2)

Hurt
(Taint #3)

For the Sugar Junkies

You girls rock my face off with your love!

“W
ILL THAT
be all today, Sir?” the salesgirl asks, with the sugary grin of a woman who’s about to get a hefty commission.

I breathe a sigh of both relief and terror. “Yeah, thanks.”

I bury my head in my hands as she saunters off to polish the glorified rock. I can’t believe I’m doing this. If you’d asked me about the
marriage
thing two years ago I would have tapped out of that conversation quicker than you could say man-whore, and run for the fucking hills. And I gotta be honest, right now, that’s not sounding like too bad of an idea. But here’s the deal: I love Ana more than I’ve loved anyone my entire life. She makes getting up in the morning worthwhile, you know?

Holy mother of cunt-cakes, this is a huge fucking step for us … for
me
, and I just want to make sure I’m not doing the right thing for the wrong reasons.

Snap out of it, dickhead, she’s the best thing to happen to you.
I give myself a tap on the cheek while the salesgirl has her back turned to me. If I thought I could get away with punching myself in the face without looking like a member of
Fight Club
I’d probably do it just to escape the freak-out going on inside my head. I’m sure about what I’m doing here. But it doesn’t make it any bloody easier. I still worry I’m not the best thing for her, and I wonder all the time what might have happened if I’d never rode into town. I gotta say, though, bipolar episode in overpriced jewellery stores aside, I’ve never been happier. And that’s the reason I’m here right now.

The woman comes back and presents me with a very shiny vintage bauble before snapping the lid closed on the tiny box. The sound rings in my ears, so loud it’s deafening. My breath comes a little faster, my palms sweat, and my hands shake. Shit. I may or may not be about to pass out right now. I’m blowing four years’ worth of savings on a diamond. A diamond I’m not even sure she’ll want to wear for the rest of her life.

“Are you okay, Sir?”

“Yeah, I’m good.”

“You’re vibrating.”

“I might be a little bit shaken, darlin’. That’s a huge wad of cash to blow on a fucking rock, but I’m not gonna hulk out or anything.”

“No, I mean your phone is vibrating.”

“Oh.” I glance down at my jeans pocket and discover she’s right. And not only that, in my freak-out, I failed to notice that my phone was shaking the man meat. I’m sporting a fucking semi.
What the actual fuck?
I’ve said it before, and it’s as true now as it’s ever been: somewhere in all that muscle, engorged tissue, and nerve endings, my cock has a tiny brain, and that tiny brain is scheming and plotting against me right now. Again.
Fucker
. If I didn’t love him so much, I’d strangle him with my bare hands. Maybe I’ll have Ana do it when I get home.
God damn it, not helping
.

I hold up my finger to indicate that I need a minute, and step away from the salesgirl before taking my phone from my pocket, readjusting things while I’m down there.

I smile at Ana’s face as it flashes up on the screen before I bring it to my ear. “Hey baby.”

“Hey, where are you?”

Shit.
I was so fucking nervous about this whole thing that I’d forgotten to tell her I was leaving work early. I’d only been at the shop for twenty minutes before I told Bob I felt like I was coming down with something. I couldn’t exactly tell him I was driving to an antique jewellery store up the coast to buy his daughter a ring. He might have something to say about that, and I wasn’t sure I’d be happy to hear that something. “Um, I went out for a ride.”

“While you’re sick?”

“Yeah, you know how the bike clears my head.”

“Well, where are you? I got Holly and Kristine to hold down the diner, so I’ll come meet you and we’ll spend the day together.”

“Er … nah, it’s okay, babe. I’m almost done here and I’ll head on home.”

“Sir, did you want me to wrap that for you?” the sale assistant asks, and if I wasn’t trying to redeem all the bad decisions of my past I might have considered strangling her. I know it’s not her fault, but strange female voices heard over phone lines lead to what’s no doubt about to come next.

“Who was that?”

“No one. Just some chick walking by talking to her boyfriend.”

The wide-eyed girl holds up her hands in apology and walks back to the counter. I turn my attention back to the phone. Ana says, “She calls her boyfriend Sir, huh?”

Fuck me.
“I don’t know, baby girl, I gotta go. I’ll be home soon.”

“Yeah, okay,” she says, and hangs up before I can come up with more lousy excuses.

The rest of the transaction is kind of a blur. I hand over a huge wad of cash for the bauble. The corners of the cashier’s mouth turn down as she awkwardly tries to shuffle the crumpled up notes into some kind of order. Her gaze rolls over me, taking in my tattoos, my messy hair, and my beaten up leather jacket. I can see her little brain ticking over, wondering where I got the cash, and entertaining the possibility of me robbing a bank for the dough.

Her assessment of me is making me fucking antsy. She’s wondering who the ring is for—I can see it all over her face. She’s probably imagining this pretty little overpriced jewel adorning the finger of some trampy fucking club whore. I wanna tell her about the angel it’s going to belong to, but her judgment forces our differences into stark relief, and has me second guessing again whether or not this is the best thing for Ana.

Instead, I take my expensive little package and leave, carefully stowing it in the saddle bag as if it’s as precious as a newborn. Then I slide onto my bike, and rev the throttle as my baby chokes and sputters to life. I should have ordered her some new parts this week. Actually, I should have done it six months ago. But then I wouldn’t be sitting here freaking out over the best way to hide this ring until I’m ready to do the deed.

I ran into some serious traffic on the way home, and had to take a detour almost an hour out of the way. I pull in the drive just on dusk. I’m a dead man. Ana’s going to be pissed. Especially considering I can’t fully explain my absence. I just have to hope she doesn’t give me the third degree.

Glancing up at the windows—and hoping like hell she can’t see me out here in the dark—I pull the jeweller’s bag from its hiding place and shove it inside my jacket, zipping it right up to my neck. I probably look like a complete fuck-knuckle, but it’s better than just throwing the ring down on the kitchen counter and saying, “How ‘bout it, babe?”

No. I gotta wait for the right time to do this. I don’t know when that will be, but the moment has to be special. Which means I have to avoid Ana until I can safely hide the ring.
Yeah, ‘cause that’ll be a fucking stroll through the tulips.