The Sweet Addiction Series Collection: Sweet Addiction, Sweet Possession & Sweet Obsession (66 page)

It was a good look on him.

“The market. He seemed to be shopping for one, so you know I had to pry. And upon further inspection, I noticed he wasn’t wearing a wedding ring.”

I shrug impassively, switching legs. I’m not surprised if his cheating marriage failed. Nor do I give a shit. “Did you say anything to him?”

He pops his gum before smiling cunningly. “Nah. The little chicken-shit practically sprinted down the frozen food aisle when he spotted me. I’m sure he saw your engagement announcement in the paper, though. That advertisement took up the entire page.”

I laugh as I roll my ankle on the pavement, loosening it up. Reese made sure to send in the biggest photo he had of the two of us to the local newspaper several months ago. When I insisted on something a bit smaller out of sheer modesty, he distracted me the way he usually does and I forgot all about it until it was published. Well, until he had it framed and delivered to me.

I stretch my neck from side to side as Joey moves down the sidewalk, motioning for me that he’s ready to start running. I jog up to his side and we take off at our usual pace. The fact that Joey gave me a warning yesterday about pushing me during this run stays locked away inside my head. If he doesn’t remember it, I’m not reminding him.

“So, what happened with Reese last night after he got home? Was he pissed about Bryce?”

“Oh, you’re not going to believe this. He showed up drunk and woke me in the middle of the night with the shop alarm going off. He couldn’t even enter the code, he was so plastered.”

Joey flicks his head toward me, his mouth dropping open and the wad of gum nearly falling from his mouth. “Shit.” He pushes it back in before responding. “Reese was drunk? Are you serious?” I nod and he continues. “What kind of a drunk was he? Sloppy? Horny? I looove when Billy gets drunk. He’s extra frisky.”

I nudge him hard in his side and he flinches. “No, he wasn’t horny. He was actually kind of sad.”

“Ughhhh. I hate depressing drunks. My mother’s like that.”

We round the corner and start up the big hill, causing us both to grumble our exhaustion until we make it to the top. I steady my breathing after taking in three deep breaths. “What do you think Reese could be doing with Bryce that would make working with him so important? He keeps telling me to trust him and that it’s almost over, but I don’t understand why he can’t just tell me.”

Joey thinks silently for several seconds, the sound of our feet striking the pavement becoming more prominent. “I don’t know. I feel like we’re in a fucking episode of The Sopranos, only with accountants instead of Mob bosses.” He ducks his chin into his T-shirt, wiping the sweat off his nose. “Maybe he doesn’t want you to be involved if things don’t work out the way he’s hoping. Like maybe he thinks Bryce will retaliate by hurting you if he finds out Reese is up to something.”

“But what could he be doing? Like you said, he’s an accountant.”

“I don’t fucking know. Tax shit? Whatever it is, it must be worth it to Reese. I don’t think I could work with some guy who hit on Billy. I’d go crazy. I can’t imagine how hard that must be for him.”

“I think that’s why he got drunk.” I picture those desperate eyes he had last night while sitting on the steps, stripped down and raw. I never want to see him like that again. And I suppose Joey’s right. Reese could be keeping me in the dark to keep me protected. Bryce does seem like the type to lash out, and if he wanted to get back at Reese, he could do it by getting to me. But I’ll never let that happen. I’ll never let that douchebag anywhere near me. And God help him if he decides to take it out on Reese. If he lays one finger on my fiancé, I’ll be the one spending my honeymoon in jail.

A sharp slap on my ass breaks me out of my mind set. “Ahh! What the hell?” I shriek, rubbing my left cheek.

“Cupcakes, cupcake. I told you I’d be pushing you today. Think I forgot?” He drops back and gets directly behind me. Another slap and I’m arching away from him, hissing in pain. “Move it. Or you’ll get to explain to Reese why you let me spank you. I’m sure that’ll go over well.”

Laughing, I pick up speed and put some distance between us, but it’s fleeting. Joey catches up within a few seconds and we continue our run with him on my heels. I’m rewarded with a few more slaps when I absentmindedly slow down, but I’m not used to this pace. This is the speed which renders you unable to speak to your running buddy. My legs are burning, as are my lungs, and I’m sweating more than I ever have in my entire life. And it isn’t even sixty degrees out yet.

But I don’t complain.

I don’t quit on Joey and give up even though my body is screaming at me to do just that.

I have a dress to fit into, so I muster up every ounce of willpower in my body and push through my run. Because let’s be honest, the chance of me sneaking another cupcake before I walk down that aisle is looking pretty good right now.

I’m dripping sweat after what feels like the hardest run of my life. After saying goodbye to Joey, I head upstairs and expect to see Reese still passed out in bed, but it’s empty. I see the light creeping from under the bathroom door and kick off my shoes before I make my way into the kitchen. As I’m pulling a bottled water out of the fridge, I hear the reason behind Reese being out of bed. The unmistakable sound of him throwing up has me rushing to the door, twisting the locked doorknob.

“Reese?”

The toilet flushes and then I hear his gravelly voice, barely above the noise. “Yeah?”

I jar the knob again, tossing my bottled water onto the floor. “Open the door.”

“No. I don’t want you in here.”

“Well, that’s too bad,” I scoff, grabbing one of my kitchen chairs. I climb up on it, skimming my hand along the top of the door jam and feeling for the key I keep up there. Once I grab it, I jump down and move the chair out of the way. “I’m coming in. I can handle vomit.”

“Dylan, please don’t come in here,” his raspy voice begs me.

I wiggle the key around until I feel it unlatch the door. I turn the handle freely this time and swing it open, spotting Reese on his knees. He’s slouched over the toilet, shirtless and only in a pair of boxers. His head is resting on his forearm and he doesn’t bother to lift it when I enter the room. I place the key on the bathroom counter and crouch down behind him, placing my hand on his back.

“Are you okay?” I ask as I begin rubbing my hand along his clammy skin.

He coughs a few times, dropping his head and spitting into the toilet. “I asked you not to come in here. Why would I want you to see me like this?”

“In two days, I’ll be vowing to be with you for better or for worse. Or did you forget about that?” He tilts his head to the side so our eyes meet. “You took care of me when I was like this. Now it’s my turn.”

He’s either too weak to give me a rebuttal, or the fact that I’ve reminded him of how many days we have left is soothing him. I run my fingers through his hair, which is sticking out every which way, feeling the dampness of his sweat on my hand. He looks thoroughly exhausted, with bags under his eyes and his complexion looking paler than I’ve ever seen it, but somehow, he pulls it off. Not that I’m the least bit surprised.

I place my lips to his shoulder. “You’re beautiful even when you’re hung-over.”

He drops his chin, smiling. “You’re beautiful even when you ugly-cry.”

His words have me wanting to feel his mouth against mine, even if he has been puking his guts up. But I bite back the urge and settle for a wink instead, which prompts his smile to grow the tiniest bit. I stand and grab a washcloth from the cabinet, wetting it at the sink. “I’m going to get you some water,” I say as I lay the cool rag on the back of his neck. He acknowledges me with a subtle nod before closing his eyes.

I grab the bottled water I had discarded and return to the bathroom just as a wave of nausea hits Reese. He arches over the toilet, gripping the seat with his hands. His back goes rigid, every muscle flexing as he proceeds to vomit and dry heave. I kneel behind him and hold the rag against his neck, rubbing his upper arm with my other hand. This round lasts several minutes, and when he slouches down, seemingly finished, I pick up the water bottle and unscrew the cap.

“Here.”

He looks over his shoulder at me and takes the bottle. After swishing the water around in his mouth, he spits it into the toilet and repeats the action several times. He tries to stand, but I stop him with a firm hand on his shoulder.

“Are you done?”

He nods, pushing to his feet. “I think so. That shit sucked. I haven’t thrown up since I was little.” I follow him over to the sink, watching as he splashes some cold water onto his face. He grabs his tooth brush and slicks some toothpaste on it, connecting with my eyes in the mirror. I see his rake down my body. “How was your run?”

“Difficult. I had cupcakes yesterday and paid for it greatly.” I begin stripping out of my sweaty clothes while Reese continues brushing his teeth. “Are you going into work today?”

“No. I took a sick day. I need to go get my car and then I thought maybe I’d watch you bake.” He spits into the sink and rinses off his tooth brush. “If that’s okay with you.”

I smile, tossing my clothes into my hamper. “That’s definitely okay with me. You haven’t watched me bake in a while.” I reach into the shower and turn it on, testing the temperature. “But you’ll have to disappear when I start working on our wedding cake. That is off-limits.”

He steps up behind me, wrapping his arms around my body and pulling me against him. His hands splay across my lower abdomen, protectively caressing it. Like he knows without a doubt there’s something in there worth protecting. When I look down to watch, I see the sweat pooling between my breasts. Suddenly grossed out, I try to slip away but his grip tightens. “What are you doing?”

“I’m all sweaty.” I continue to squirm in his arms but freeze when his lips touch my neck.

“I like you sweaty.”

“You like me sweaty when
you’re
the reason for it.”

“Hmm. Let’s explore that.”

I turn in his arms, staring up at him with disbelief. “Don’t you feel like death? How can you even think about sex right now?”

He shoots me a baffled look. “You’re naked and I’m touching you. But honestly, you could be on the other side of the room in a fucking parka and I’d be thinking about it. I’m always thinking about it. Hangover or not.”

I flatten my hands against his chest and push. “Rain check, handsome.”

“With frosting?”

His request has my insides burning as much as my legs were on that run. We haven’t played around with frosting in a few weeks. Usually, the urge to lick it off me hits him in the middle of us fooling around, sending him sprinting into the kitchen for the ready-made tub I keep on hand for such occasions. He’s too impatient to wait for me to whip up a batch, which he proved when he bent me over my worktop and fucked me while the neglected, half-put-together icing went untouched. That happened a few days after we reconciled. And now, you’ll always find a tub of it in both our fridges.

I shoot him a cheeky grin and nod. At my promise, he drops his arms and returns to the sink, allowing me to finally step into the shower.

The loft is empty when I step out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around me. I slip into a sundress, one that cinches at my waist, and step into my favorite pair of strappy sandals. After applying some tinted moisturizer and mascara, I blow-dry my hair partially and clip half of it back.

Reese is sitting on a stool pulled up to my worktop, dressed in a pair of running shorts and a T-shirt. He lifts his head at the sound of me coming down the stairs, the apple turnover he’s about to bite into stopping inches from his mouth. I grab my apron off the hook by my shelving unit and slip it over my neck. I know he’s still looking at me. Even though I’m pulling out the racks of pastries, muffins, and cupcakes with my back to him, I feel it burning into the back of me, no doubt appreciating my outfit. I glance at him over my shoulder, prompting him to lift his gaze.

“I love you in dresses,” he says before finally taking a bite of his turnover.

“I know,” I reply. “Wait ‘til you see the one I’m marrying you in.”

His eyes lose focus momentarily as he drops his hand to his lap. Clearing his throat, he adjusts himself discreetly and I feel my face heat up as I place the racks on the worktop. I love that the very idea of me in my wedding dress gets that kind of reaction from him, even though he has no idea what the dress looks like.

“Do you need any help?” he asks after regaining his composure.

“Sure.”

He shoves the rest of the turnover into his mouth, standing up and wiping his hands on his shorts. We each carry a rack up front and fill the display case. As Reese meticulously arranges the cupcakes in a way only he would do, the shop door dings open and Joey walks in, followed by Brooke.

“Well, isn’t this a nice surprise,” Joey says as he steps up to the counter. I see the side of Reese’s mouth twitch into a smile as he straightens up and greets both of my employees with a tilt of his head.

Brooke places my cup of coffee on the counter. “Sorry, Reese. I would’ve gotten you one if I knew you’d be here this morning.”