Page 25 of Sugar Rush (Sugar Bowl 2)

"Okay," he says as he pulls away and picks up the small box that was resting on my lap. "Time to open yours."

I take the present from him and shake it slightly. Something inside rattles and I smile slyly. "Wonder what this is?"

Truth be told, the fact that something rattled inside throws me off a bit. I assumed it was jewelry, but whatever is inside is loose and has some substance to it.

"Only one way to find out," he chuckles. "Open it."

My fingers pull at the paper. I'm not one who opens gifts delicately, preferring to tear into them. There's a small white box inside, and when I pull off the top, I gasp in surprise.

Reaching in, I hesitantly pull out what is clearly a car key fob with a Mercedes symbol on it. My thumb rubs the raised silver emblem for just a second before I turn to Beck and say dumbly, "You got me a car?"

He nods enthusiastically. "A GLK350. It's a crossover. Smaller than their other SUVs but very safe. Completely sporty. It's in the garage. Want to go see it?"

"I got you photographs," I say with a thick tongue as my face turns back to the key fob in my hand. "You got me a car."

"Oh no you fucking don't," Beck says as his hand comes to my chin. He grips it and turns me to look at him. "You do not compare the cost of our gifts with each other."

My eyes narrow at him slightly. "You got me a freakin' car, Beck."

"So what? I'm rich," he says calmly.

"I don't need a car," I point out. "I take public transit."

"You can visit your dad more often now," he counters.

"It's a freakin' car--"

"Do you love me?" he butts in.

"Yes," I say, blinking over the change in subject.

"Then do me a favor and graciously accept my gift. And get fucking used to it. I'm going to buy you nice things."

My mouth falls open. I think briefly about continuing to argue, but then I take in the serious look in his eyes that's part exasperation but mostly devotion to me sprinkled with a little bit of excitement to show his care for me in this way.

All of the anger and embarrassment over my paltry gift evaporates and I smile sheepishly as I toss the box and key to the coffee table, and then crawl onto his lap. Looping my arms around his neck, I press a kiss to his stubbled cheek and then pull back to look into his eyes. "Thank you. It's an amazingly extravagant gift, and I'm sorry for my reaction. This will take a little bit of getting used to."

"I intend to spoil you, Sela," he murmurs. "I want to give you the world."

Smiling, I turn my body, pull my arms from around his neck, and curl into him. Resting my head on his shoulder and my palm over his heart, I say, "All I ever wanted was a quiet life. I always thought I'd be alone because of what happened to me. I never thought there was room in my life for anything other than my anger and misery. But now that's all changed. You've already given me the world."

His lips press onto the top of my head and his arms wrap around me. "Paint a picture for me. What does your world look like with me in it? Tell me where we'll be in, say, a year from now."

"Hmm," I hum low in my throat as I consider his question. "In a small house that sits by the ocean. Maybe a fixer-upper with old linoleum floors we'll want to rip out but they're so charming we leave in, and whitewashed cabinets. We'll have a dog, maybe two, that we can take for walks on the beach. I'll work as a counselor and you'll do programming magic, and when we come home from work, we'll fix dinner together."

"Sounds nice," he says in a low voice as one of his hands strokes my arm.

"And we'll fuck every night, and twice a day on the weekends. We'll listen to bands in dive bars or we'll try out various coffee shops in search of the perfect Viennese cup. Oh, and we'll develop some type of hobby...like maybe collecting antiques or something. You know, so we don't get so wrapped up in sex that we never leave the house for very long."

Beck chuckles and squeezes me tight, but then he turns serious. "Do you want kids?"

"I don't know," I answer quickly and honestly, but it's a thought that has plagued me before. "I mean...I never thought I'd have a real relationship before, or that I'd even be living with someone and discussing a beach house and dogs. But yeah...I like kids. I think I'd be a good mom. I had a great role model, after all."

"Well, I had a crappy role model for a mother," Beck says, not in a bitter way, but more reflective.

"You'd make an amazing father," I say softly. "You're so good with Ally."

"Yeah," he says softly. "I think I would too."

We both fall silent, maybe unsure of what to say after that revelation. I mean, not an hour ago we were declaring our love for the first time, and now we're discussing houses and children. It's too fast and it's overwhelming, and yet it's also a little bit right too. I know this because the ensuing silence as we contemplate this isn't awkward at all.

"So, when this is all over with JT, next on our agenda is to find a small house on a beach somewhere?"

I giggle. "With peeling linoleum floors."

"Got it," Beck says.

Suddenly, I sit up and turn in his lap to look at him, reality seeping back in to our discussion of happily-ever-after dreams. "What if this doesn't work? So many things could go wrong. VanZant may not take the offer, then we'd depend on fate for him to lose. Or he could go to the police and tell him about the bribery--"

"We're shielded from that," Beck reminds me quickly. "Dennis said there won't be any ties to us. It's why we're paying him so much."

I disregard those assurances, because here's the really big "if." "We still have to depend on JT coming to you for the money."

"Well, he can only go to me or my dad," Beck points out. He relayed to me the entire conversation he had with his dad on the drive home last night, and it does seem his dad is on board with us. "JT doesn't have any other close friends with this type of liquid cash to help him out and no bank will loan him money to pay off a debt. Dennis assured me the collection deadline will be short so he'll be under pressure to act fast."

"Maybe JT won't agree to give up the company for your loan," I offer, even though we've hashed this all out before. "Maybe he'll opt for a beating. Or take his chances elsewhere. Or even negotiate an extension."

"Then worst-case scenario, he's still part of the company when we go to the police," Beck says firmly. I know he's frustrated over my continued worries, but he's also very patient with me.

"It will kill The Sugar Bowl." The bitterness is evident in my voice. "It could ruin you. Maybe we shouldn't even do this at all."

"What?" Beck ex

claims, his eyebrows rising high. "You want me to just stay with JT as a partner and pretend none of this happened?"

"No," I say sullenly, my gaze dropping from his. I twist my fingers together and mutter. "I know you could never do that."

"Sela," Beck says softly, his fingers tilting my chin up. When my eyes lock on his, he gives me a knowing smile. "I'm not going to lie...I've got a lot tied up in this business. I'm proud of it. It's lucrative. But it is not my only idea. My entire self-worth isn't dependent on it. My financial stability most certainly isn't, as I've invested well and I could buy us houses on multiple beaches and we'd never have to work again a day in our lives. Worst fucking case, I can't get JT out and the police won't compel him for DNA and he stays free. If that happens, then we'll move to a faraway beach and start all over again."

Tears suddenly fill my eyes as quickly as the blossoming love in my heart starts to overwhelm me. This man...that he would do that for me?

Beck tilts his head to the side, his smile turning softer, and he wipes a stray tear that runs down my cheek. "I fell hard for you, Sela. I'm committed to you and our future."

"So this is love?" I whisper hoarsely as I stare into his beautiful eyes.

"I do believe it is," he tells me with a grin. "Now...would you like to go see your new car, Miss Halstead?"

I can't help it. His attitude is infectious, and I grin back at him before backing off his lap and dropping to my knees before him. Placing one palm on each knee, I nudge his legs apart. "Why Mr. North, I would love to, but first I really would love to suck your cock."

"Christ," Beck mutters as his head drops back onto the cushion of the couch and he sighs with happiness. "If you must."

"Oh, I must."

"I'm really sorry JT couldn't make this meeting," I say as I shake hands first with Michael Gruber, then with Vincent Carmon, the two owners of ET Technologies.

"No problem," Vincent responds with an affable smile. He's the younger of the two entrepreneurs, having recently turned twenty-two. Michael's not much older at twenty-three.

"We really wanted your eyes on this project anyway," Michael adds. "We just don't have your programming skills."

It's true enough. They would need me on this project, and I'm very much interested. ET Technologies was founded by Michael and Vincent, college buddies who dreamed up the potential to analyze facial expressions of consumers reacting to certain products. The "ET" part of their name actually stands for eye twitch, a comical play on a common facial expression to indicate unease.

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