The Sugar Queen by Tess Thompson

5

Brandi

I was aboutto unlock the side door that led up to my apartment when I saw him. There he was, just sitting in that shiny black truck watching me. As though he was supposed to protect me or something. As though he had any right. After ignoring me all night and dancing with every woman in the bar except me, he had the nerve to make sure I got home safely? This was no coincidence. Waiting until I was securely inside before driving away was such a Trapper thing to do. I should be pleased, right? I mean, he was the same sweet, overly protective Trapper, doing what he’d always done. That was just it, though. Time had moved on. I wasn’t a blissed-out teenager with hearts for pupils any longer. I was a grown woman with a business. I could stumble home from the bar without his help.

The street wasn’t even dark. Those vintage lights that made Barnes Avenue look like a postcard were all lit up.

That’s it.He’s going to get a major talking-to. I marched across the street ready for a fight. He rolled down his window before I reached him, wearing a sheepish expression.

“What do you think you’re doing, Trapper Barnes?” I shouted this, pitchy, which made me even angrier. Why did this man get to me this way?

He blinked and lifted that ridiculous mouth into one of his sexy smiles. “Just making sure you get home safe. Is that a crime?”

“I don’t need you to look after me. I’ve been doing just fine for ten years all on my own.”

“My apologies,” he said. “I thought being a gentleman never went out of style.”

“There were about half dozen other women who would’ve welcomed your escort home.”

He raised his eyebrows. “Are you jealous?”

“You really are the most arrogant man this town has ever produced. Not every woman in the world wants you.”

A flicker of hurt showed in his eyes. I should’ve taken it back, but I was too frustrated. My skin itched and burned. I wished I could scratch a layer or two off in exchange for some peace. Or maybe I just wanted to slide through that window and straddle him as I used to back in the days when he drove a truck in need of a new paint job instead of this shiny black one that represented all the ways he’d moved on without me.

“Brandi, I’m sorry, okay? I didn’t mean any harm.”

All the bluster left me. I turned into a saggy balloon emptied of all its helium. “Never mind. I’ve overreacted. It’s weird to have you back here.”

“Okay.” He drew out the word. “Not sure what to say now.”

“You danced with every single woman in the bar tonight. Was that necessary?” Why the heck had I said that? If it hadn’t been totally obvious how jealous I’d been, it certainly was now. Bless him, he didn’t rub it in or tease me. Not Trapper. The guy didn’t have one mean streak in him. He was always kind. Considerate. A gentleman. Dammit.

“I didn’t realize it would bother you. I’d have sat them all out had I known. Anyway, they’re all just new friends. I didn’t have much of a chance for a social life when I was playing, so this is all kind of new to me.” He rubbed the stubble on his face. “You could’ve asked me to dance, you know.”

“I didn’t have a chance.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be. I’m a big girl.” I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him.

“I meant, I’m sorry that my presence bothers you so much.” His eyes were as sad and soft as a kicked puppy’s. “I guess this town isn’t big enough for the both of us.”

The nicer he was, the meaner I became. I hated feeling like the bad one, but it was true. “You’ve been back only a few days, and I can’t seem to step out of my apartment without seeing you.” I’d meant this to sound apologetic, but instead it came out snappish and tart. To be fair, I’d only seen him twice, and once had been when he came into my shop.

“I’ll stay away as best I can. If that’s what you want.” He shifted in his seat, and he pushed the button to start the truck’s engine.

“Your dad came to see me today,” I blurted out.

He turned the engine off and slowly turned toward me. “He did what?”

“He stopped by the bakery for a sandwich and espresso and to talk about you and me and what happened between our mothers.”

“Why would he do that?” Trapper looked out the front window and tapped his fingertips against the steering wheel.

“I’m not sure.” Liar. I knew exactly. He wanted me to fess up to the truth.

“What did you tell him?’ he asked.

“Nothing really.” My voice wavered as I tried not to cry.

He reached through the open window to brush my bare shoulder. “Brandi, are you okay? You can talk to me. No matter what, I’m always here for you. I’ll always listen.”

I jerked away from him, stepping back from the truck. My skin tingled where he’d touched me. “I’m fine. In case you were wondering, Stormi is great. Very smart and artistic. I mean, she’s exactly the kind of girl I figured you’d be interested in.”

“I’m sorry, what are you talking about?”

“You’re obviously into her. She’s perfect for you. A New Yorker. All sophisticated and everything, just like you. I’ve been here and I’m still the same old silly, stupid Brandi. You’ve been off having this big life, and I can see it all over you.”

He lifted his head to look at me. “You can see what all over me?”

“The city.”

He threw his head back and laughed. “Brandi Vargas, have you lost your mind?”

“What’s that mean?”

“I hardly know Stormi. She’s a new friend, that’s all.”

“She made you laugh tonight. That used to be my job.” I placed my hands over the window frame.

The tiny muscles around his eyes twitched as he gazed at me. “You did a great job of it back then.” He rubbed his hand over his closely cropped hair. How many times had I seen him do that? The gesture had always told me when he was worried or stressed. “Brandi, there’s only one woman in this town for me. I thought I made it pretty clear yesterday how I feel about you.”

“Feel? Present tense?” This was wrong. I knew it was wrong. But I couldn’t stop myself. I needed him, wanted him. One more night in his arms. Then I’d let him go. I chastised myself. Who are you kidding? You’re just making this worse. Leading him on, acting jealous.

“Yes. The moment I saw you, I knew.” He stroked one of my hands with his thumb.

“Knew what?” I fixed my gaze on his thumb.

“That I’ll always love you. There’s no hope for me. I’ll never get over you.”

Do the right thing. Either tell him or walk away. This isn’t fair. Yet if I told him, it would truly be the end. I didn’t know if I could watch him drive away another time.

My eyes filled as I lifted my chin to look at his face. “Don’t you see? We were doomed. I would’ve held you back, Trapper. You know that as much as I do. Can you imagine taking me to one of your fancy parties?” I tried to smile through my tears. “I was never in your league.”

“You’re wrong. All these years, I’ve hardly dated. I had no interest in the women who made themselves only too available to me and the other guys. I’ve only ever loved one woman, and that’s you. I would’ve been loyal. As far as taking you to a fancy party, I don’t know what you’ve imagined my life was like, but there isn’t a woman on the planet prettier or sweeter or smarter than you. You are the only league I’ve ever wanted to play in. No one has ever come close to you.” He placed his hands on the sides of my face. “Listen to me carefully. I would’ve been proud to have you by my side. Don’t ever doubt that for one second. You gave me strength and challenged me to be a better man.”

“Is that really true?”

“Yes, it’s true. Still, I understand. You had your own life to figure out, not just traipse after mine. I’m sorry I didn’t see that at the time. I’m sorry I said I’d choose hockey over you.”

“The question wasn’t fair. I should never have asked you that way.” My head drooped, as if it were suddenly too heavy.

“I’ve missed you every single day.” He swiped the tears from my cheeks. “You’re the only girl I ever wanted to dance with.”

He played with my hair, wrapping it around one of his long fingers. “Do you know how much I’ve missed you?”

“How could you? With all those women falling all over you and living the high life? I hated those pictures in the magazines. Every time I saw one, I felt sick to my stomach.”

“The thought of you with someone else did the same to me.”

I allowed myself to touch his face, taking in his finely formed bone structure under my fingers as if I were reading braille. The curve of his cheekbone and hard jawline that had once been boyish were now all man, but his dimples were the same. I took in every ounce of him as if I might never see him again. I placed a finger in the dimple on his left cheek, then touched his mouth. “I used to know every inch of you.

“And you crushed it just like I knew you would. Even though I missed you like crazy, I was always proud. I know better than anyone how hard you worked to catch that dream.”

“I’m proud of you too, baby,” he said.

“What do you want, Trap?” I whispered. “What do you want from me?”

His words broke into the night, untethered. “Same thing I’ve always wanted. For you to be my wife.”

My breath caught. I strained to see his expression in the dark. Tears flooded my eyes at the sweetness in his voice. “Trap, do you mean that?”

“You know I always say what I mean.”

He put one of his large hands over mine and lifted my chin with the other. “There’s something I need to ask you. Is there a piece I’m missing? Did something happen to you that spring? Something besides the rejection from Michigan?”

“Yes, something happened,” I whispered. “Something I didn’t know how to deal with.”

“What was it? Please, you can tell me anything.”

“Not like this. Not tonight.” Why had I come over here? I should have just waved and walked inside.

“I won’t push you,” he said softly. “Whatever it is will not change how I feel about you.”

“I’m not sure about that.”

He turned the power on without the engine running and switched on the radio. “I’ll tell you what, let’s get a dance in right now.”

He lifted the door handle. I moved aside as he unfolded himself from the truck. “You and I never got our prom. How about you make at least one of those up tonight?” The street was empty. No one stayed up past closing time in Emerson Pass. Lights from the trees twinkled at us. The town council had voted two years ago to have them up all year.

“Right here? In the street?” I asked.

The song, ironically, was Miranda Lambert’s “The House that Built Me.” We could have easily replaced the word house with town to describe our own experiences growing up.

I moved into his arms. He held me close as we swayed to the music. I rested my damp cheek against his hard chest and breathed in his scent. Overhead, the stars were bright in the black sky. Another song came on, but we stayed together, hardly moving.

“What’re we doing, Trapper?”

“Dancing.”

“This is dangerous.” This was wrong. He was getting carried away, thinking that it would be as simple as all this. Just a dance in the street.

“No, not dangerous. This is right. I don’t care how much time has passed.”

“We should be careful.”

“That’s not really how I do things,” he said. “Give me a chance to remind you how good we were together.”

“I remember,” I said. Alarm bells rang loud. I was falling into a hole I wouldn’t be able to get out of.

“Let me court you like in the days of Alexander and Quinn,” he said. “We can go nice and slow. Get to know each other again. I’ll prove to you how worthy I am.”

“That was never the problem,” I said under my breath.

“May I kiss you?” he said into my ear.

The second song ended. In the silence between songs, the leaves of the aspens that lined the street rustled in the breeze, making a soft swishing sound. And then, the hoot of an owl way off in the distance somewhere introduced the next song.

“Yes, you may kiss me.” I lifted my face and closed my eyes. His lips brushed mine, gently and for no longer than a few seconds. In that small moment, a lifetime.

“You’re so beautiful.” He grabbed my hand and held it against his chest, then swooped down to capture my mouth in another kiss. Time stopped. It was the past and the present and the future all there in the feel of his lips moving against mine.

And just like that, I was in too deep.