“C’mere,” Miles ordered, patting on his right thigh after he lowered himself onto some cushioned seating on the aft deck. She did as told, closing the distance between them, putting one hesitant foot in front of another. When she reached him, she lowered herself across his lap. His tattooed arm curled around her waist, tugging her closer to him—anchoring her to him. A tiny smile quirked onto her lips at the action. She opened her mouth to speak, but with his free hand, he pressed his index finger against her lips.

“Let me say somethin’ first,” he spoke before he took ahold of her chin, his calloused thumb gently caressing her soft plump bottom lip. “You think we’re different from each other in every which way. I can see your reasoning. You drink wine and cocktails and I like to toss back a couple of cold ones. You look like a runaway model and I look like an ex-convict fresh out of prison. You love classical music while jazz and blues are my passion. You’re a planner and I enjoy takin’ things as they come. On the surface, we sound like we don’t belong together, but underneath, we are two sides of the same coin.”

He continued on, “You think you don’t deserve love. You think you don’t deserve me. I thought the same thing too. I thought after everything that happened with Alicia and Melina, I didn’t deserve love. That night you patched me up, I knew then and there I needed you in my life, but I walked away because I thought you were too good for me. I fought and battled with myself for days on whether I should put myself out there like that—on whether I should send you those flowers and give you my number.”

A slight grin eased onto his lips. “When you rejected me on the phone, I thought you were a smart gal for turnin’ me down considerin’ the circumstances we met under. Then everything changed the moment I saw you sittin’ in that booth with your mama in my restaurant. The opportunity was a gift from God and I wasn’t gonna disappoint Him by lettin’ you get away from me a third time. Now, he’s given me another gift.”

He smoothed his other hand across her belly. “You weren’t meant for Lance. You were meant for me and I’m doin’ everything in my power to help you understand that, but you gonna meet me halfway, darlin’. I once told you that I could survive off whatever crumbs you throw at me. Well, as of today, I ain’t takin’ anymore crumbs. You love to pamper me with a feast one moment then offer me a handful of crumbs the next. A starvin’ man ain’t dealin’ with that back and forth. You understand me?”

After the question was posed, Sugar didn’t get the opportunity to respond right away as he kissed. As her eyelids fluttered shut, she melted against him, surrendering to his dominance. His tongue toyed with hers, tangling and dancing heatedly within the depths of her mouth. Weakly, she framed his face, her fingernails gently grazing his beard. He ended the ravenous kiss by raining a few pecks on her lips before he finally sat back, admiring his handiwork as she sat on his lap with half-lidded eyes clouded in a hypnotic daze.

“Now, let’s lay down to ground rules,” he then said.

Her head jerked backwards slightly, her eyelids blinking rapidly in confusion. “Ground rules? What ground rules?”

“You’re pregnant with our baby. Your safety, your wellbeing, and your comfort are my responsibility,” he stated.

Sugar snorted out a giggle. “And how exactly are you going to perform this responsibility of yours? We are both run successful businesses. We live in separate households. We both have separate lives.”

“Which leads me to my first ground rule,” he returned. “You’ll be movin’ in with me.”

She choked on air, her eyes growing big and wide. “Excuse me?”

“I didn’t stutter, darlin’,” Miles said. “I’ll be damned if I let us sleep in separate beds on opposite sides of town every single night. We need a home base and it’s gonna be my place.”

Sugar was quick to part her lips to protest, but Miles cut her off smoothly with a grin. “Close your eyes.”

Instead, she narrowed her eyes at him, clenching her jaw.

“Now, Sugar,” he ordered. She pursed her lips as she closed her eyes, swallowing back the objections that burned fiercely at the tip of her tongue. She breathed deeply through her nose to calm her nerves and contain the strong storm of emotions that swirled inside of her.

He then replied, “Now, picture this. After a long day of work, I’ll sit you down and take off your shoes, so I can give you a nice foot massage. I’ll cook dinner and you make dessert or you could be dessert.”

Her anger dissipated.

She could never stay upset with him for long.

Sugar peeped open one eye briefly, soaking in the sight of him grinning from ear-to-ear. She slapped his shoulder, fighting back the urge to match his grin with one of her own. “Now is not the time to be a pervert, Miles.”

“We’ll fall asleep in our bed. Take showers together in the morning to save water,” he trailed off suggestively, which caused a smile to finally break out across her lips. “Then, of course, some mornings you might send me to work bite marks on my shoulder and scratches on my back.”

She couldn’t argue with that.

Opening her eyes, she arched an eyebrow. “Alright, what’s ground rule number two?”

“You’re comin’ with me on my annual trip to Louisiana in August,” he replied. “It’s time you met Memaw and all my family.”

“Including your parents?”

A thoughtful expression dominated his facial features and he cocked his head at the posed question. “Is that what you want, honey? To meet ‘em?”

“I take it you don’t visit them when you go on your annual trip?”

“The last time I spoke to my parents was three years ago. The encounter did not go well. My father and I had a nasty argument, which ended with him gettin’ a black eye and me with a bloody nose,” he said.

Sugar bit her lower lip as she listened, regret pooling deep in her belly for even suggesting such a thing. “I’m sorry I asked.”

“As for ground rule number three,” Miles said, “no apologizin’ for things that aren’t your fault—that aren’t in your control. I’ll take you to ‘em. Introduce you to ‘em. They should meet the mother of their grandbaby.”

“Do you have a ground rule number four?”

“As a matter of fact, I do. I need you to know that I’m makin’ an honest woman out of you in a very near future,” he said. “I need you to make peace with that, honey.”

Sugar uncurled his arm from her waist and stood up, shaking her head. “I think you’re asking for a little too much. I’ll agree to the first three rules, but that rule needs to go on the backburner for a while. When the time is right, we’ll,” she paused, struggling to find the right word, “negotiate.” 

Miles rose to his feet, looming over her short frame. “That ain’t necessary.”

“Are you taking that rule off the table altogether,” she asked.

“Naw, darlin’. What I’m tryin’ to say is there’s no need for negotiatin’ ‘cause I ain’t changin’ my mind. That rule is stayin’ on the table with all the old-fashion fixin’s and a nice pitcher of ice cold ‘best accept that’.”

Sugar crossed her arms over her chest and cocked her chin up at him stubbornly. “You’ll be eating at that table alone, Miles.”

“You challengin’ me, honey,” he queried with an amused smirk of a man who already knew the future outcome.

“Using the word challenging would imply that I am being defiant—that I am being disobedient—which I’m not. I am just standing my ground, Miles,” Sugar stated.

Just then the black-tinted glass door slid open and Odette’s head popped out. “Hey, guys. Sorry to interrupt, but I just wanted to let you know that lunch is ready.”

“Give us a minute,” the two replied in unison as they boldly stared each other down.

Odette’s eyebrows rose upward as she observed the intensity that sparked between them.

“Um, sure thing,” she returned awkwardly before getting the hell out of dodge, shutting the glass door to give them much needed privacy.

A potent silence fell upon the aft deck before Miles finally spoke. “I’m startin’ to think you like doin’ things the hard way.”

Sugar crossed her arms over her chest and tilted her head. “Well, I’m startin’ to think you don’t realize there is no easy way.”

Miles smirked. “Sure there is, darlin’. The easy way is sayin’ yes. How does an autumn weddin’ at my childhood home in Louisiana sound? Or we skip the fancy details and just get hitched at the courthouse. I’ll let you decide.”

She laughed at his audacity, shaking her head. “How generous of you, Miles.”

He countered smoothly, “I aim to please.”

“I’m going inside now,” she then said. “I’m famished.”

“We’re not finished.”

“Well, we’ll have to reschedule the continuation of this talk for another time,” she said as she made her way over to the glass slide door.

“Then pencil me in for this evenin’,” he ordered.

Sugar paused at the door, glancing over her shoulder. “I don’t think I have much of a choice.”

“This time around I ain’t givin’ you one.”