She's got a past. He's got a future. And they’ve both got three years of wanting what they couldn't have. Now that Sugar's back in town, the reckoning comes with the storm. Will they be able to hold on or will they’re love only last as long as the blue hour?
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“Sugar? I ain’t heard of no Sugar.”
“Momma from Chatham. Her daddy… well, don’t nobody know what he got goin’ on. Left when she was a baby, and ain’t never came back.”
“Damn.”
“Mmhm, last I heard she was working at some spot down in Magnolia Heights.”
“Magnolia Heights? That’s some boujee shit. Sugar… Sugar…. damn. Can’t remember nobody no more. I barely remember any of the girls workin’ tonight.”
“All that shit you be drinkin’.”
“Girl, fuck you. Like you not lit right now.”
“You right, you right- lemme not do too much. Sugar… pretty name. Real pretty name. Bet the guys like her. They like that. When the girl’s got a cute name. I remember she used to be fast. Kissing all the boys at the school.”
“Girl, we all fast. How you think we got here? Oh, fuck- there he go. Lemme get my ass to the back. But yeah. Sugar. That’s a real nice name. Damn shame ‘bout her daddy.”
⭒✮⭒
The cicadas were loud. The air was heavy, and the sky bruised over with thunder, a grey swirl of storm behind mean clouds. Chatham County was big, biggest in the state. If you stayed out for too long in weather like this, nobody could guarantee that you could get back to Magnolia Heights, the closest big city, safely. But they weren’t going anywhere tonight.
Cordell leaned against the porch rail, arms crossed, face set like stone. His black Stetson hat hung on the corner of a rocking chair that swung lazily as the storm’s breeze rumbled across the field. Sugar sat on the porch swing. Barefoot. Long curls piled up in a messy, large bun. Lips stained red. Looking at the trees. She was still pretty as sin, Cordell thought, even with her makeup half gone in the heat of the summer. Even when he was angry at her. Even when she was angry at him.
“You ever gon’ say somethin’? Or you just gon’ keep glarin’ at the dirt?”
Cordell didn’t look at her. Just lolled his tongue in his mouth, working his jaw.
“Ain’t got shit to say.”
She huffed, leaned back so the swing creaked behind her.
“Funny. Thought you was real good at sayin' things when it came to them girls at the bar.”
At this, he glanced her way. Slow. Careful. Heated.
“That what this is about?”
“This?” She said, raising a brow, “Boy, this ain’t bout nothin’. I just got eyes, that’s all.”
He didn’t answer. Didn’t really deny it either. He’d known the other girls at the bar that they’d just left. Even gotten to know a few of them before– quick kisses behind barns, half-drunken hook ups behind jukeboxes. Shit, what was he supposed to do? She’d left town without telling anybody but God. Last he’d heard, she was working at a gentleman’s club in the city. Was he supposed to act like he lost his ability to feel? To be felt?
But, much to his chagrin, none of those women ever stuck in his head like Sugar. No matter where she’d fucked off to, she still got into his mind, into his lungs. Just like when he opened a box of powdered donuts from The Little Tart bakery in the tiny downtown square. Sweet, soft. Here for a second, then gone the next. He looked out toward the tree lines, watching them bend against the wind.
“They wasn’t you.”
That made her pause.
“What?”
“They wasn’t you,” He repeated, slower this time, “Didn’t matter what they looked like. None of ‘em was you.”
Sugar looked at him then. Really looked.
“So what am I?”
Cordell shifted his weight, pulled a lighter from his pocket, rolled it between his fingers.
“You’re different.”
She smirked.
“And you like different?”
He stepped toward her, real slow, real certain. Eyes sharp. Shoulders loose.
“I like you.”
No big speech. No grand move. Just the truth. He stopped in front of her, and for once, she didn’t have a comeback. Didn’t– couldn’t– crack a joke. Just looked up at him, suddenly quieter than usual.
“You know,” She said quietly, feeling the heat of him as he looked down at her behind hooded eyes, “I’m done with that stuff. I’ve left dancing. I put my place up in Magnolia Heights for rent. I’m back here. For good. I wanted to come back. For…”
She trailed off, crossing her arms. Looking everywhere but at him. She couldn’t say it.
For you.
“You know I don’t care about that. That’s your past. We all got one.”
Sugar picked at the hem of her sundress, red cotton faded from too many washes. The same one she’d worn to church picnics before she’d left town three years ago. Before the city had changed her voice, made her walk different, made her carry her shoulders like she expected trouble.
“My past got a way of followin’ me around though,” She pushed her toe against the porch floor, making the swing rock, “Mrs. Henderson at the grocery store wouldn’t even look at me when I went in yesterday. Just pointed to the register and kept her mouth shut.”
“Mrs. Henderson’s old. And meaner than a rattlesnake. Always been that way.”
“Yeah, but she used to at least pretend to be nice,” Sugar’s voice dropped, “Had to move back in with Mama. You know how that is. I’m sleepin’ in the same bed I had when I was sixteen.”
Cordell moved closer, his boots heavy on the wooden planks. The thunder rolled closer, and the first drops of rain started hitting the roof above them in scattered pings.
“Your mama happy you back?”
“Mama don’t say much. Just cooks too much food and asks if I need anything every five minutes,” Sugar laughed but it came out hollow, “Think she scared I’m gonna leave again.”
“Will you?”
“Will I what?”
“You gon’ leave again?”
She looked up at him. The question hung between them, heavier than the storm clouds.
“Depends.”
“On what?”
“On whether I got a reason to stay.”
Cordell stepped closer, close enough that she could smell his soap and the faint scent of motor oil, leather, and denim. Close enough that she had to tilt her head back to keep looking at him.
“I been waitin’ for you to come back.”
“You been waitin’?” She stood up from the swing, bare feet touching the porch floor, “You sure had a funny way of showin’ it. Heard you was real busy with that bar tender.”
“That wasn’t nothin’.”
“Wasn’t nothin’ to you. Seemed like it was somethin’ to her.”
The rain started falling harder, drumming against the roof with more purpose. Lightning split the sky in the distance, and for a moment the whole world went white.
“Sugar.” His voice was different now. Softer.
“I ain’t never stopped thinkin’ ‘bout you. Not once.”
She studied his face, searching for lies, for the smooth talk that men in the city had used on her. But Cordell had never been smooth. He’d been honest. Even when it hurt.
“I missed you to,” She said finally, “Every damn day.”
The admission hung between them like a confession.
“I know I left without sayin’ much. Know I hurt you.”
“You did.”
“I was scared. Scared of bein’ like my mama, stuck in this town forever, watchin’ the same people do the same shit every day until I died,” She stepped closer to him, “But I was more scared of stayin’ and you not…”
“Not what?”
“Not lovin’ me back.”
Cordell reached out, touched her face with the back of his hand. His skin was rough from work, but his touch was gentle.
“I been in love with you since we was kids, Sugar. Since you wore that pink dress to the church social and got grape juice all over it.”
She laughed, and this time it sounded real.
“I remember that dress. Uncle Johnny was so mad- he made that dress, after all.”
“You was seven years old, cryin’ like the world was endin’. I gave you my napkin to clean it up.”
“You did,” She leaned into his touch, “You always did try to fix things for me.”
“Still do.”
The rain was coming down steady now, creating a curtain around the porch. The air smelled like earth and ozone and the promise of cooler weather.
“I don’t need fixin’, Cordell. I need…”
“What you need?”
She looked up at him, and he saw the girl he’d fallen in love with all those years ago. Before the city, before the dancing, before the hurt that had driven her away.
“I need you to kiss me.”
He didn’t hesitate. His hand moved from her cheek to cup the back of her neck, fingers threading through the loose curls that had escaped her bun. He leaned down, and she rose up on her toes to meet him. The kiss was soft. Gentle. Like he was afraid she might disappear if he held her too tight. His lips moved against hers slowly, carefully, like he was memorizing the feeling. They pulled apart briefly, lips hairs breadth apart.
“Can I take you inside?” He whispered, his voice a question. That sharp sting of want, heady and narcotic, settled in Sugar’s body.
“Yeah.” She answered, swallowing hard before he caught her lips in another kiss. When they finally broke apart, both of them breathing hard, Cordell rested his forehead against hers.
“You still trouble.” He muttered, his voice thick with desire.
Sugar grinned, grabbing his hat from the rocking chair and placing it on her head.
“And you love it.”
He didn’t deny it. Instead, he hooked an arm under her legs and lifted her effortlessly, her body cradled against his chest. She let out a surprised laugh, clutching at his shoulders.
“What’re you doing?”
“Taking you home.” He said simply, his tone leaving no room for argument.
When they crossed the threshold, Cordell didn’t bother with the lights. He carried her straight to the bedroom, kicking the door shut behind them. The dusky evening filtered through the curtains, shrouding them in the blue hour as he laid her down on the bed. He stood at the edge, eyes dark with hunger as he looked down at her.
“You remember how this goes?”
Sugar held his gaze, her lips curving into a slow smile.
“Why don’t you remind me?”
Cordell knelt on the bed, his hands sliding up her thighs to the linen edge of her dress. Then further, scrunching the fabric as gooseflesh prickled her skin. Then further, fingers tracing lazy circles on her skin, moving higher and higher until they brushed against the edge of her panties. She arched into his touch, a soft gasp escaping her lips.
“Cordell…”
“Patience, baby.” He murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers down her spine.
His hands moved to the back of her dress, untying the delicate strings that held it close to her body and sliding the fabric off of her shoulders. She was left in nothing but her bra and the lace of her panties, the cool air peaking her nipples beneath the fabric. Cordell’s eyes roamed over her body, taking in every curve like he was memorizing her.
“Damn, Sugar,” He said, his voice gruff with longing, “You’re more beautiful than I remember.”
Her cheeks warmed at his words, but she didn’t look away.
“Prove it.”
Cordell didn’t need to be told twice. He leaned downed, capturing her lips in another searing kiss as his hands explored her body. His touch was everywhere at once– on her hips, her waist, trailing up to cup her breasts through her bra. She moaned into his mouth, her hands fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. She needed to feel his skin against hers, needed to touch him the way he was touching her. When his shirt finally came off, she ran her hands over his chest, feeling the hard planes of muscle beneath her fingertips.
Cordell broke the kiss, his lips trailing down her neck to the curve of her shoulder. His tongue flicked against her skin, sending waves of pleasure through her body.
“Tell me you want this.” He whispered against her ear, his breath hot on her skin.
“I want this.” She breathed her voice trembling.
His lips curved into a smile against her skin. He pulled back just enough to look at her, and ran a thumb across her bottom lip. Slowly, she parted them and he pushed his finger into her mouth, onto her warm, wet tongue. Warmth enveloped it immediately and Sugar pursed her lips around it, sucking it gently.
“Fuck,” He groaned under his breath, “That’s my fucking girl.”
She released his thumb with a pop and he leaned in wolfishly, hungrily, kissing her with the growing intensity of a man in need. Teeth, tongue, lips, nothing but skin against skin.
“You gon’ drive me crazy, Sugar.” He finally said when they separated.
“Already am.” She teased, her fingers sliding down to the waistband of his jeans which struggled to keep all of him constrained.
Cordell caught her hand, shaking his head.
“Not yet.”
She raised an eyebrow, but he didn’t explain. Instead, he leaned down again, his lips brushing against her ear.
“You’re mine tonight.” He murmured, his voice a low growl that sent a thrill through her body.
“Yours.” She agreed, her voice barely audible.
For a moment, they paused. The storm raged around them, but they lay there in the shelter of the moonlit bedroom, holding each other. Breathing the same breath, feeling the same heartbeat. Touching the same gossamer edge of taut desire. Wanting, waiting, clutching, straining for the other.
Finally home.