Page 107 of Sugar Coated Secrets

Trent told me about her. How he knows her from the next town over with a bad rep. I didn’t push, but I know there is something there. I could sense it that day between them in the garage. Hate, resentment, sexual frustration. Feelings I know all too well.

She nods, but I can see the guilt in her expression. She feels torn that she is betraying Dulce by telling me things without consulting with her first. Dulce probably told her not to tell me about the rat and the messages.

“Is she in the kitchen?” I ask, determined to talk to Dulce. “Don’t worry, I’ll tell her I forced my way in.”

“She’s heartbroken,” she says softly. “She needs you right now, Ford. She needs someone. I’m not sure what is going on between you two, but she is hurt that you left her.”

“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere without her,” I assure her before walking around the front counter.

I push the door to the kitchen, and I catch Dulce’s wide-eyed gaze when she spots me with her hand wrapped around a whisk. Her other holds a large mixing bowl. Her eyes have dark circles and are puffy, like she’s been crying.

“Hey,” I say delicately. “How are you doing?”

“How do you think?” she says sarcastically.

“I’ve been worried.”

“I bet,” she says, anger vibrating in her voice whisking away, the metal making a squishing noise. “What do you want, Ford?”

“I want you.”

She snorts. “I bet you do,” she says and then lets out a frustrating sigh. “If you came to pay your respects. Thank you. She was very fond of you; I appreciate you keeping your word. She died thinking you took me to prom, and I had a great time.”

“Is that what you think I’m worried about?” I say slowly. “You think I don’t care what you must be feeling right now?”

“I wouldn’t know what you care about. I’m kind of confused with your motives, but your actions are clear, and I’m no different from the women you screw in a separate hotel room and leave without a backward glance come morning?”

“That’s not…”

She raises her brows. “True? I guess the tabloids made it up, and those pictures posted online are fabricated, and all those women are liars.”

“Not with you.”

“Oh…that’s right. I didn’t make it to morning. I’m not that lucky. I don’t get an answer from a simple text either.”

“Dulce?”

She drops the whisk, splashing batter on the table. “What?”

“That’s not why I left.”

She averts her gaze, blinking back tears. “I know why you left, and I don’t blame you.” Her voice cracks on the last part.

“That’s not why,” I admit. “I would never judge you.”

Tears run down her beautiful face. “What was it, then?” she croaks. Regret?”

“Never. I could never regret you, Dulce. I’m here. For you. I didn’t leave because I don’t want you. I left because I had to do something.”

I close the distance, causing her to face me.

“We would never work,” she says, fighting a sob that wants to escape. “I’m not like those women.”

I whisper in her ear, “I don’t want you to be, Dulce. Trust me, I like the way you are just fine.” I cup her face gently in my hands so she can look into my eyes. “I’m here because I’m ready to make it work, Dulce. I’m here because I want you the way you are. Broken, beautiful, and all mine.”

She laughs, and I’m not sure if she is crying or not. She sniffs, looking up at the ceiling. “You should be dating a model. Married to someone famous. Have gorgeous kids with. A wedding in Italy, for God’s sake.”

I press my lips on her forehead. “I want all those things but not with a model or someone famous. I want that with you.” I dip my finger in the bowl and scoop up some batter, then suck it off my finger. “I like my future wife’s cookies. Always have. Her cakes.” I dip for some more, spreading it on her lips, and bend my head so my tongue can lick it off. “The way she tastes. So sweet like sugar.”

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