Page 31 of Sugar Coated Secrets

Everleigh tucks stands of my hair behind my ear. “Are you okay?”

“I’m confused about what to do now. I had a plan for my future, and now it’s gone.”

“Maybe it’s time not to have a plan. Take things one day at a time, take a few risks even, and see where life leads you.”

“Is that what you did with Daire?”

She has another bite and considers my comment. “I think I did. I didn’t realize it at the time, but I did take risks with him. It wasn’t my usual behavior, especially after what happened. But I did, and had I not, I wouldn’t be here.” She pats her belly.

“If only Daire had a twin,” I tease.

“Don’t say that around Easton.” Everleigh glances behind me, even though I don’t hear anyone else around. “He’s super sensitive about being compared to Daire.”

“I’m learning. I don’t get it, though. Easton’s pretty amazing in his own ways. He’s an incredible friend. Loyal. Helpful. And he’s turning his life around, maturing. I think we’re going to see great things from him soon.”

Everleigh grins, her blue eyes glinting. “You like him.”

“Of course, I do. He’s one of my closest friends.” I shovel quinoa into my mouth.

“I think you might like him a little more than that.” Her voice hints at concern.

“Not at all,” I fire back. “That would be unwise and a waste of time.”

She chews on her bottom lip.

“Stop it.” I point my spoon at her mouth. “You’re worrying for no reason again.”

“I want you to be able to relax while you’re here.”

“I will. I am.”

“Okay,” she says, unconvinced. “I just think?—”

“That we should eat our delicious food and talk about something else?” I smile and scoop a big bite into my mouth, moaning and rolling my eyes with delight.

She giggles and lets it go, as she should. There is nothing between me and Easton, and there never will be.

Chapter 10

Easton

I stand outside the kitchen, eavesdropping. I meant to grab my iced tea and go back to the library to finish my calls. Instead, I was stopped in my tracks by Sadie’s voice and compliments about me to Everleigh.

Apart from my parents’ optimism that I can do anything I set my mind to, no one has ever seen me the way Sadie does. She openly praises me to my face and now to Everleigh.

Her words stir feelings inside me. Feelings I can’t explain. In one way, I love her compliments and genuine openness. In another way, I fear living up to the version of me she sees. There is no place for me to go but down. That’s a lot of pressure.

I was mad at myself for asking her not to tempt me. Who says that to a woman who was just attacked and broke up with her longtime boyfriend? It was rude. I don’t want to be rude to her. I never have before. All that talk about other women in my house had me tense. The way I relieve stress is with a hookup. Hookups are not an option right now. Sadie would be the perfect hookup. She’s already in my house.

On the drive here, my mind kept picturing her in various places. Spread across my kitchen island while I make her come with my mouth. On her knees, her perfect peach-shaped ass in the air, while I take her from behind on the fur rug in front of the fireplace. And worst of all, I pictured her in my bed—the place no woman has ever been.

My shared college apartment left me no other option. But this is my permanent residence. I don’t plan to leave it, and I prefer my room to be my own personal space. No women allowed. Only I couldn’t stop envisioning Sadie in my sheets. Her maple hair fanned out over my pillow. I was so distracted, I didn’t realize we’d reached the estate until she said we needed to stop by to see Everleigh.

I walk away and return to the library that Daire now uses as his home office. He’s at the farm, and it’s good he is. He would have seen right through my moodiness and guessed my problem is with Sadie. He would have warned me not to mess with Everleigh’s best friend and to seek pleasure elsewhere.

Problem is, I’ve had all the best women Oakville has to offer. Hell, I’ve had the best in the nearest small towns, except for Honeycomb. Sadie and Everleigh were the most attractive women in that town and neither lives there anymore.

Macon isn’t that far of a drive. I could pick up a woman at a bar there—and take her where? Back to her house? To a hotel? It’s not my style, but desperate times call for desperate actions. Maybe I’ll need to travel to Atlanta and stay at Daire’s penthouse.

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