Page 37 of Sugar Coated Secrets

His gaze slides to the passenger seat. A crease forms on his forehead, a bead of sweat dripping down his temple. “Dulce, get out of the car,” he demands. The words rush out, tumbling over the next, causing my fist to clench on the steering wheel as he continues, “Dulce, listen to me. You can’t trust him. I’m sorry. I’ll take you home. Please?—”

“Stop,” she thunders.

His throat moves as he swallows, and hurt glimmers in his eyes. “Could you…call me when you get home?”

She looks away, dismissing him, but I don’t understand what the fuck is this guy’s problem.

He glares at me. “You do anything to her, and I swear?—”

“Don’t threaten me,” I warn. “She obviously doesn’t want to talk.”

I drive off, leaving him watching me as I pull onto the road. I lick my lips, full of the scent of her sweet breath and the taste of sugar from her lips entangled with mine.

“Thank you,” she says apologetically, biting the corner of her lip.

“For what?” I ask, trying to keep from reaching for her hand.

“For coming to get me. For giving me a ride. I honestly didn’t know how I was going to make it home.”

“Were you going to stay in the bathroom stall all night?” I ask playfully.

“Maybe.”

I glance at her briefly, loving the way she looks tonight, but I don’t want to make her uncomfortable by staring. “Are you okay?”

“I am now,” she says quietly, and all I want is to keep driving and not come back. I want to keep her forever, but I can’t. Not yet.

Instead, I ask, “How long do you have until you’re expected back home?”

I don’t know what her situation is at home, how bad her grandmother is, or how long she has left.

“Umm. ”

“You know what? Call home and ask who is hungry.”

She glances at me. “Why?”

“Because we’re bringing dinner.”

“You don’t have to do that, Ford.”

I smile, putting her at ease. “It’s no trouble.”

I step into the doorway, balancing two bags of take-out barbecue pulled pork and mac-n-cheese and following Dulce into her house. The house smells like a hospital. Sterile and antiseptic mixed with rich wood that has seen better days. The house is clean but needs a facelift.

My eyes soften as she walks cautiously into what I assume is her grandmother’s room. It’s the only room so far that is completely remodeled.

“Is she awake?” Dulce whispers to a woman named Mary sitting in a chair by her grandmother’s side.

Dulce said she is a nurse that works at the local doctor’s clinic and takes care of her grandmother while Dulce works.

“I’m awake,” her grandmother says with a quavering quality to her voice. “You think I don’t have gas in the tank, but I do, and I hear you whispering away like you’re hiding something. Tell me, how was it? Did Danny behave himself?”

Danny was a shady bitch who got caught.

I step forward, the bags drawing her grandmother’s attention. I’m met with the same brown eyes that have haunted me since the first day I fell into them.

“Grandma,” Dulce says.

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