Sugar Rush by Rachel Astor Read Free Book Online

years ago, before Nick had left for Harvard, his father had been happy, maybe for the first time since his mother left. He was a new man, though Nick never did find out what had changed. Maybe nothing, and his father had just decided to finally start living.
    Then one day, as if a switch had been flipped, his father became withdrawn again.
    Around that time he became obsessed with Candy Land Confections, calling them the enemy. Vowing to take them down one chocolate-coated candy at a time. And now all this crazy talk about sabotage? Although…he had to admit that the idea of getting closer to Dulcie didn’t sound so bad.
    Nick supposed his father needed a hobby or something. And the feud had kept him busy for a while, building up business for How Sweet It Is at the rate of a madman. Nick began to think of him as the crazy candy king, but he never said it to his face.
    He just sat back and rode the wave of sugar, assembly lines, and discount pricing.
    Nick’s feet moved almost as if they were separate from the rest of him, getting closer to Dulcie, watching her hold her hair back as she leaned into a cart of spices. Why did she have to be so damned beautiful?
    “Having fun?” he asked as she sniffed some fresh ground cayenne pepper, which almost made her choke and cough right into the stand.
    Fortunately, she turned away before a coughing fit ensued. He cringed at his impeccable timing.
    “Thanks a lot,” she said, glaring.
    He put his hands up. “I can’t help it if you can’t hold your pepper.”
    He’d meant it as a joke, but she obviously didn’t take it as one.
    “You come here a lot?” he asked. Oh God, the same stupid thing he’d said at the club. Did he really have only one line?
    She shook her head like he was the densest thing since sponge cake.
    He chuckled, pretending they were having the most jovial of conversations. Of course, he wanted nothing more than to turn back time and not waltz right up to her, knowing she hated his guts and everything, knowing he was supposed to hate hers, but he couldn’t help himself.
    She sighed. “Yes, I come here a lot. They have the best ingredients.”
    At least she was still talking. He said a silent thank-you for small miracles. “I’m checking out some stuff for the big contest this year. Got the invitation last week,” he said, patting the white paper bag he held, keeping it tightly closed, which was pretty ridiculous considering anyone a mile away would have smelled the fresh lemons.
    She scoffed. “Lemons? How very original.”
    He squirmed, remembering the days when the family used to invent new recipes together. But that was a long time ago.
    “Oh, don’t worry, it is,” he said, unable to stop himself as he forced a grin.
    He wondered if the heat bubbling up inside him showed on his face. Maybe that’s why he said what he said next, to cover up his own embarrassment. “I see you don’t have any watermelons in your basket yet.”
    Shit. Why? Why are you so stupid?
    Dulcie’s face simmered. She looked like she wanted nothing more than to reach out and grab the bag right out of his hand and stomp until lemon juice flowed down the street.
    Instead, she took a long, slow pull of air, letting it out slowly though her nose, closing her eyes, like she was trying to meditate her anger away.
    Nick silently begged for the ground to open up and swallow him whole.
    “Har, har,” she said, which was about as much as anybody could expect after such a low blow.
    He tried babbling to fill the silence, yet another byproduct of his fat days. “So,” he said, patting his bag of lemons like an idiot. “Are you entering this year?”
    She shrugged, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “I haven’t decided yet. ”
    He smiled. “I don’t blame you. After your last entry, it would take a lot of guts to put yourself out there again.”
    She glared like he had never been glared at before and for a moment, Nick didn’t understand, until, of course, he replayed