Sift

By L.D. Davis

The summer I graduated from high school, I raced out of my small Virginian town to seek my culinary dreams in the big city. I couldn’t afford New York City, though, so I settled in Philadelphia. The City of Brotherly Love wasn’t The Big Apple, but it had its charms and pockets of culinary splendor. I hadn’t minded because it was only temporary. After culinary school, I planned to do as I’d been dying to do since I was a little girl and roam the earth and splurge on its fruits.

Five years later, I was still in Philly, living with the same roommate I’d had when I had first moved, working as a pastry chef in a bakery across the bridge in New Jersey, and I had Cade. Caden was my on and off again boyfriend of four years. I loved him, even when I hated him.

Our relationship was hot and cold, hard and fast, sexy and heartbreaking. It wasn’t until I was with Caden that I understood that passion could be just as terrible as it was beautiful. I didn’t know until him that passion could make you burn as well as burn you. Being with Caden was like being addicted to thrill-seeking adventures. You know there is a danger in it, and it makes your heart race and adrenaline pump into your body. Sometimes you nail it and the rush is breathtaking and amazing. Sometimes you miss, and there is fear and regret in your heart as you fall to the unforgiving ground.

After one particularly hard fall, I went home to Virginia for a long weekend. That was where I became reacquainted with my brother’s old college friend Connor. That’s when I learned that passion could be a slow, sweet burn.

And it could incinerate me and turn me to ashes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L.D. Davis
• Release date: Aug 1, 2016
• ISBN: 9781370353736

Book preview

Chapter One

Ibit down on my bottom lip as Caden gazed up at me with a smirk. He dropped his lips to my navel and kissed it softly before dipping his pierced tongue into it. I giggled and smacked his shoulder half-heartedly. I could feel his grin on my skin as he did it again. I hit him again, but with even less power than the first time. As strange and ticklish the sensation was, it also felt good.

He captured a tiny edge of my jeans between his teeth and growled as he tugged on it. I laughed as he continued to whip his head back and forth until he was able to disengage the button using only his teeth. He pulled the zipper down with his hand before he trailed a finger down over the seam where I was hot and wanting.

Mmm, he murmured. I can smell you.

I raised my eyebrows. And that’s a good thing? Should I go shower first?

Fuck no. You smell like you’re wet and ready for me.

I pushed my fingers through his blond hair as I looked into his bright blue eyes. I am.

He closed his eyes for a moment as I stroked his head. When he opened them, I could see that he was ready for me. Any ideas of foreplay were forgotten as he got to his knees and hurriedly pulled my jeans and panties off. He quickly stripped out of his own pants and briefs and set his erection free.

Only a moment later, he positioned himself between my parted thighs and slid into me with one powerful thrust. I groaned against his lips before licking them slowly.

Darla, he said my name as an exhalation.

He kissed me hard as he took hold of my hands and pinned them over my head. That was how he liked to take me, held down securely under him as he drilled me into the bed. My body arched up to meet his thrusts, my nipples pressed against his chest.

He gathered my wrists in one hand and held them tightly as he reached down to pinch a nipple between his fingers. I let out a high pitch, lustful noise as I struggled beneath him. He liked it when I did that, too. Whenever I fought to free myself, he went harder, faster. It was how we were together in bed and in our relationship. Hard. Hasty. Hot.

Only a few short minutes after we started, we came together. I felt him pulse as he groaned my name. I shivered violently as my own orgasm peaked and then began to fade. He lay on me and in me, panting against my neck. I rotated my hands as I tried to get some feeling back into them.

Caden pushed himself up on his forearms and grinned down at me. I fucking love you.

I fucking love you, too.

He pressed a quick kiss to my mouth before he pulled out of me. Contented, I rolled onto my side, and he took his place behind me. After pulling me against his body and covering us with the comforter, he kissed my shoulder, the back of my neck, and my head.

How much longer before you have to go? he murmured against my hair.

I glanced at the digital clock next to the bed. I should have been on the road an hour ago. I still have to go home and finish packing.

You should cancel and stay here with me all weekend. We can stay in bed and watch movies, play video games, eat pizza and potato chips and screw. Like rabbits.

I smiled. I believe the whole breeding like bunnies thing pertains more to how quickly and often they get pregnant. I don’t think they’re actually having sex several times a day, and I don’t think that—in spite of the fact of the present you just left inside me—you truly want us to be like rabbits.

He sighed with exaggerated exasperation. Fine. We’ll screw like porn stars.

Sure. No problem. I can fake it all day long.

I screeched when he pinched me hard on the butt. Laughing, I rolled over to face him. I wrapped my limbs around him and put a hand on his face.

Stay here, he whispered as my thumb trailed over his lips.

I can’t. You know I can’t. You should come with me. I have to bake tomorrow and do the baby shower thing Sunday afternoon, but we can escape in the evening and go back to our hotel room and you can do whatever you want to me there.

Mmm. He pressed his semi-hard erection against me. I already do what I want to you. Anytime and anywhere.

I snorted. That is true, you dominant asshole. So, come with me.

All three of your parents hate me, he answered flatly. I’m not going to drive six hours into the backwoods of Virginia so that they can all glare at me and judge me because I have tattoos and piercings.

I have a tattoo, I argued.

And they judge you, he said pointedly. But not as much as they judge me. They have to love you. They don’t have to love me. You have a freakin’ cupcake on your back. My arms, back, and torso are covered in ink, Darla. My eyebrows are pierced, my tongue is pierced, my nose, my lip, and my ears. They look at me and see a bad boy corrupting their sweet, country daughter.

That was rather true. Cade looked like the epitome of a bad boy, and my parents did judge him based on his appearance. They didn’t seem to care that he had an MBA and owned his own successful three-star restaurant in Philadelphia. I had been dating Caden off and on for over three years—the past year being the most permanent so far—and my dad always asked me the same question whenever I brought him home with me. When are you gonna bring home a decent boy?

Okay, I sighed. They’re snobby sometimes, but so what? You won’t be going for them. You’ll be going for me.

He at least seemed to think about it for a moment before he declined again, but I knew it was coming. He almost always said no.

I really don’t want to do deal with that BS, Dar. Besides, I have to work this weekend.

"You’re the boss man. You can let your other chefs handle the work for the weekend. Besides, you just asked me to stay here with you. You weren’t so concerned about work then."

He kissed my nose as his hand gently rubbed my back. If you stay, I’ll stay. If you go, I’m going to work, and that’s that. Maybe another time, but this time you’re going to be busy, and I’ll get stuck with one of your crazy, judgmental family members.

I blew out a breath. He was right, but it didn’t make me want him with me any less.

Fine.

His lips lightly touched mine. I love you.

Sure you do, I responded sulkily.

He gasped comically and drew back a little. You doubt my love for you?

Right now I do.

Your name is permanently written on my heart. He put his hand on his heart as he tried to look hurt.

I rolled my eyes, even as my mouth twitched while I tried not to smile.

My name actually was permanently written across his heart. When he moved his hand, I replaced it with my own. I carefully traced the curvy letters that spelled out my name, Darla.

Two years ago after a particularly nasty breakup and equally passionate make-up, Cade went and got my name signed across his stupid heart. It had been a very romantic sentiment, but at the same time, it put a lot of pressure on me. I sure as hell wasn’t getting anyone’s name inked on my body. It made me feel locked into our relationship. How could I permanently break up with a guy who had my name in ink on his chest?

Not that I had any plans of breaking up with Caden. I loved him, and most of the time I thought I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. But then there were other times when I didn’t feel that way, and I wasn’t sure. I had my doubts, more than I wanted to acknowledge, especially when I took into consideration how my family felt about him and vice versa.

"I do love you," he said. All amusement was gone from his face. His forehead creased as he peered at me and waited for a response.

I love you, too.

He kissed me again, and I felt him growing hard again against my belly. I really needed to get up and get out of there. I had a long drive ahead of me, but as he rolled me onto my stomach and pinned my hands down, I thought that perhaps I could spare another few minutes.

When he speared me from behind, all thoughts of leaving were temporarily forgotten.

Chapter Two

Idecided to take a shower at Cade’s. That way I could just swing by my apartment, hurriedly throw the rest of my stuff into a bag and be on my way. I just hoped that I was a little more expeditious about leaving Virginia for my trip home. According to the weather reports, a monstrous snow storm was headed our way late on Monday. I planned to be on the road in the early hours of that morning and curled up with Cade by the time the first of the snowflakes began to fall.

Typically, I wouldn’t have risked getting snowed in anywhere, but my sister McKenzie and her husband Cort were knocked up. The baby—whose sex was unknown—was due in a few weeks. The baby shower had been planned for a few months, without any foresight of a late winter mammoth blizzard. If I didn’t go down there for the baby shower, my sister would never forgive me. My mother would publically shame me for no less than five years, and my dad would find some way to blame my boyfriend. I had to go. I guess I wanted to go, too.

I didn’t wash my mane of blonde hair because I didn’t have time. After my shower, I quickly put it up in a loose bun and started to get dressed. During the winter, I preferred to get dressed in the bathroom because it was still warm from my hot, steamy showers. I had just pulled on a pair of panties when Cade opened the bathroom door without knocking. I didn’t necessarily mind, but what if I had been on the toilet? As many positions as he’d seen me in, on the toilet wasn’t one of them.

I barely glanced at him as I put on my bra. Whatever happened to knocking?

Who the hell is Trey? he demanded as he held up my phone.

Oh, damn.

I narrowed my eyes at the phone and then at Caden’s face. Why do you have my phone, Cade?

Why the fuck is some dude asking to see you before you leave? he shouted.

As always, when Cade shouted at me, I shouted back. I don’t know!

The fuck you don’t know! You’ve been texting back and forth with him for over a month, Darla!

I rolled my eyes as I began to pull on my jeans. So what? I haven’t said anything wrong to him.

Maybe not, but every fucking time he told you how beautiful you looked or said that he fucking missed you and wanted to see you, you’d answer with some stupid ass smiling emoji!

Oh, dear God, not the emojis!

Don’t be fucking sarcastic, Darla! He threw the phone at me, pelting me on the chest with it and without apology. I just barely caught it before it fell on the floor.

I took in a deep breath as I glared at him. I pushed my phone into my back pocket and shook my head. You’re overreacting, as usual.

"I’m overreacting? I’m overreacting?" Even though his voice had dropped some, he looked angrier than ever.

First of all, I don’t know why you were in my phone. But Trey is just a customer.

Just a customer? His eyes darkened. You forget that I can download old messages, Darla. I know you’ve gone out with him!

I threw my hands up. I didn’t ‘go out’ with him! He brought me lunch a few times, okay? I didn’t go anywhere with him.

It’s the same thing! Why are you encouraging him? Why is he saying shit like ‘your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate you?’ What the fuck does he know about our relationship?

I laughed without humor. "Interestingly enough, my boyfriend doesn’t appreciate me, but I am not encouraging him! You read what I said when he asked to see me, asshole! I said no!"

You said, ‘sorry, I can’t,’ and added a fucking sad-faced emoji! Are you really sad that you can’t go see him, Dar? Are you disappointed that you had to be here with me instead of basking in the glow of his ‘appreciation’ for you?

I suddenly felt very drained and just wanted the argument to end.

I pushed a few stray hairs off my cheek and tucked them behind my ear. You’re being really stupid right now, Caden. I don’t have time for this.

I started to push past him to go into the bedroom, but he blocked my way, grabbed me by my shoulders and shook me.

You’re not going anywhere until we’re done talking!

"I am done talking! I shouted back as I struggled to break free. His hands gripped me painfully. Get off of me!"

We shoved at one another as I tried to get away from him and get out of the small bathroom, but Caden was bigger and stronger than me. When he slammed me against the doorframe, I reacted viciously by clawing at his face and drawing blood.

Infuriated, he shoved me away so hard that I couldn’t stop myself from crashing into the nightstand in the bedroom. A bottle of water, the digital clock, Cade’s phone, and a few odds and ends all fell to the floor as the stand was violently jarred into the side of the bed. I must have bitten my lip somewhere along the way because I could taste the blood when my tongue swiped over a sensitive spot.

I didn’t fall, but I was bent over as I leaned up against the wall and tried to gather my wits. Cade was pacing the room like a lion. Any moment he would attack, but not if I attacked first.

With a burst of fury of my own, I charged him and shoved him harder than he had shoved me. He was a little bit harder to move, but he did stumble back into a bureau. He looked at me with wide eyes and an open mouth, as if he couldn’t believe I had dared retaliated against him. Blood oozed from the slashes on his cheek and my own blood dribbled down my chin.

I wiped my chin with the back of my hand as I glared at him. My voice tremored with fury and heartache. Trey works at a youth center down the street from the bakery. We were one of their sponsors for a fundraising event, and I worked closely with him for a couple weeks. I am not guilty of cheating, but I am guilty of accepting his flattery. We sometimes talk when he comes in. I let him say nice things about me.

Caden’s eyebrows pulled together. He was still furious, but he had stopped shouting. Why do you?

Because you don’t. It was a simple, but very true statement.

I turned away from him to look for my shoes.

You know that I think you’re beautiful. You know all of the things I think about you.

Sometimes I need to hear it, Cade! I snapped as I pulled a pair of socks on my feet. Maybe telling me that I have a good pussy isn’t enough.

He moved away from the bureau and stood over me as I hastily pushed my feet into my shoes.

Maybe that asshole tells you all the shit you want to hear about yourself, but he doesn’t love you. I do! He pounded his chest where my name was. I fucking love you with my whole heart. I show you that every damn day.

I stood up so fast that he had to take a stumbling step back so our heads wouldn’t collide. I shoved him away from me. His face turned red, and his fists clenched at his sides as he breathed like a bull ready to charge.

Pointing to the blood I knew was smeared across my chin, I shouted, This! This isn’t love!

His eyes widened as if he was seeing the blood for the first time. Maybe he was. Maybe he was too blinded by his own rage to see clearly.

Before he could argue or start issuing apologies, I stalked out of the bedroom. Cade was right behind me as I searched for my bag.

Where you going, Darla? he demanded as he shoved at me from behind. "Where you going? You going to go meet Trey before you go? Huh, Dar?"

I ignored his antagonizing and found my bag on the counter in the kitchen, and my coat was slung over the back of a chair. As I pulled it on, Cade’s anger surged.

Where the fuck are you going, Darla?

He snatched my bag from me and held it out of my reach.

Give me my bag, I said through gritted teeth as I reached for it.

He shoved me back. When I retaliated by kicking him in the shin, he cussed and hurled the satchel across the kitchen. It landed several feet away, and various items exploded out of it in all directions across the floor.

Bastard! I pushed him away from me and hurried to retrieve my things.

I fell to my hands and knees and desperately tried to gather it all, but I let out a cry of alarm and anger when Caden’s bare feet began to kick the contents out of my reach.

Where the fuck you going, Darla? he continued to repeat, as his feet just barely missed my fingers.

Fuck this.

I was thankful that my keys were in my coat pocket as I made a grab for my wallet. I scrambled to my feet and ran out of the kitchen. Like a monster in a movie, Caden chased after me at an amble but was still able to catch up to me before I reached the door. He shoved me hard from behind. I tripped and fell head first against the door. Pain exploded in my forehead and for several long seconds, I only saw brilliant bursts of light in my vision.

I didn’t even know that I had fallen to my knees until I felt Cade’s hands pulling me up. I tasted blood, and my lip throbbed. I probably hit it again when I hit the door.

Dar, he said my name worriedly, without a trace of the rage he had just been in. Gently, gently he turned me around to face him. His face was etched with remorse. Dar, are you alright?

Gingerly, he touched my head. When I winced, he withdrew his hand.

I’m sorry, babe, he whispered. His voice shook as it dawned on him what he’d done. I’m so sorry. I was so jealous and mad and…shit, Darla. I’m so fucking sorry.

I believed him. I knew he was really sorry, but I wanted nothing more than to be away from him at that moment, or to spit in his face, or both.

Babe, I’m so sorry. His eyes pleaded with me as he cupped my face in his hands.

I closed my eyes for a moment, and felt tears fall and slide down my cheeks. Caden continued to apologize as he carefully touched my bleeding mouth and sore head. I heard a rustle of clothing and a second later I felt something that must have been his shirt blot my mouth and wipe my chin.

My eyes opened. He was shirtless, as I suspected. His blue eyes were so soft, so loving, so opposite of what they had been minutes before.

How many times have we been here? How many more times will be here again?

I reached for his hands. He resisted at first but finally allowed me to pull his hands away from my face.

I have to go, I whispered.

He stooped low to look in my eyes.

Darla, he said softly. I’m sorry.

I was so tired, so damn sick of hearing those words. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. He was always so fucking sorry.

You’re always sorry! I screamed it as I put my hands on his chest and pushed hard. My hands fisted on my eyes out of sheer frustration. You’re always fucking sorry. I dropped my hands and pushed him again. You can take your sorry and go to hell!

When I turned away from him and walked out the door, Caden didn’t stop me.

Chapter Three

Icame from a small town whose populous barely reached one thousand souls. Hardly anyone ever moved away, almost every family has been there for generations, including my own. My older brother Perry had gone as far as UVA for school but had returned home right after graduation.

McKenzie married her childhood sweetheart and didn’t even leave Augusta County for her honeymoon. As far as I knew, my sister had never left the state of Virginia, not even to visit me.

My mother had a sister that had run off with that city boy when she was only sixteen years old. Aunt Evelyn had only returned once in the twenty-eight years since she’d eloped with a man from New York City, and that was when my grandmother died.

I was often—and unfairly—compared to my long-gone auntie. I hadn’t run off with anyone, but I had run, and as fast as I could, before the ink was even dry on my high school diploma. I loved my family, but I wasn’t a country girl in my heart. I had spent countless hours on the internet and watching movies. They were my windows to the world outside of my small town and Augusta County, Virginia. I didn’t want to work on a farm, or in the old, decrepit Tilda’s grocery store, or at the prison where my brother, father, and brother-in-law worked.

Without having any idea what was ahead of me or what I would be getting myself into, I left home at the age of eighteen, started culinary school in Philadelphia, and began a whole new life. There had been culture shock in the beginning, and more than once I’d longed for home so badly that my stomach had hurt, but I’d stuck it out. I’d found my way, found my own little niche with new friends and in a whole new world.

I first met Caden a few weeks after I started culinary school when I began to apply at restaurants and bakeries in the area. I wanted to work directly under a pastry chef to gain knowledge and experience in a way that couldn’t be achieved in school alone. I already knew how to bake and make other sweet treats. I had been making cakes, cookies, bread and other baked goods since I was five years old when I started helping my mom make her tiramisu, but there was a lot I didn’t know.

Cade was only twenty-six years old and his restaurant M.J.s—named for his mother, Mary Jane—had been open for the better part of a year and was already doing phenomenal. I’d heard good things about it, and I’d heard that their desserts were to die for.

Caden met with me himself late one morning. I tried not to stare too hard as he approached me where I sat at the bar sipping a glass of water. A few people in my hometown had tattoos, but usually, only one or two, never more than four or five. Their arms weren’t covered in colorful ink, and no one’s face had any more holes in it than what they’d been born with. Had he walked into any establishment within my town, they would have automatically known that he was an outsider. They may have even wondered if he had escaped from the Augusta County Correctional Facility.

My manager said you’re interested in working in my kitchen, he said as he stopped in front of me.

That was something I had to get used to up north. People mostly didn’t say hello before they started a conversation like they just didn’t have time for that small formality. I made a point to say it anyway, even if the other person didn’t.

I cleared my throat nervously. Meeting any executive chef was like meeting a rock star in my book, but this chef, in particular, reminded me of actual rock stars. He had that bad ass look about him. He had untidy blond hair and piercing blue eyes that seemed to have undressed me in the few seconds it had taken him to cross the room.

Hello, yes. I am actually interested in working with your pastry chef. I cleared my throat again and awkwardly stuck out my hand. I’m…I’m Darla.

Something changed in those blue eyes as he assessed me. One pierced eyebrow rose, but he reached out his hand and connected it with mine. I liked his touch instantly. I had expected his hand to be rough and the handshake hard, but his hand was soft, and he’d shaken my hand delicately as if he were afraid to break me.

It is a pleasure to meet you, Darla. I’m—

Caden Hanes, I know, I said abruptly, and then bit my lip as embarrassment flooded my face. I’m sorry. It’s just you’re a hot name in the Philly culinary world right now.

He smiled widely. It was a beautiful smile and made my chest flutter. He was still holding my hand, and I had no desire to pull out of his grasp.

Right, he said and paused as he continued to stare at me and smile. I appreciate you coming down here, Darla, but we already have plenty of people in the kitchen right now.

I blinked at the flash of silver I saw inside his mouth. I realized that it was a tongue ring, but refocused on the subject at hand. I opened my mouth to object, but he cut me off as he raised his other hand to stop me.

"I don’t want or need anyone else in my kitchen right now, and being in my kitchen is a fucking rite of passage. You can earn your way in. You can bus tables, and then maybe after a year or two you can move up to dishwashing."

I could take the job busing tables and never go beyond that, I argued. There’s no guarantee I’ll actually get what I want.

Or you could take the risk and bus tables and be in the kitchen in six months, he countered. You don’t know what can happen. I’ve looked at your resume, Miss Simpson. The only experience you have is a few years at some small diner in some no-name town in some mountain valley of Virginia.

I opened my mouth again, rather outraged, but Caden continued and didn’t let me get more than a breath out.

Don’t try to make it something more than what it actually was because before I came out here, I Googled the town, the restaurant and then called them to check your references. To your credit, they did say that you were a ‘good kinda girl’ and ‘a hard worker’ and that you ‘made the best grits’ in town. I need someone who has worked in the actual industry, on the map somewhere, and who knows how to make more than hangover food.

Suddenly furious, I tried to pull my hand away, but the bastard grinned and held on tight. I didn’t bother hiding my exasperation as I scowled at him. The thick southern accent that I had been trying to curb since my arrival in the city suddenly made an appearance.

You coulda just said no. You didn’t hafta say all that.

His eyes gleamed with amusement. Yes, I did ‘hafta’ say all that. You need to know where you are weakest so that you can fix it.

I glared at him. Let go of my damn hand.

Cade smirked. You should thank me for my honesty. At least I was straight with you.

I spoke through gritted teeth. Thank you. Now let go of my damn hand.

He didn’t.

Are you going to take the position I offered you? You gotta start somewhere.

I sighed irritably. I appreciate the offer, but no, thank you. I will start somewhere else.

His thumb began to stroke my hand. As pissed off as I was, I had to swallow my gasp when a tingling sensation spread through my hand.

Maybe it was just going numb.

Would you like to have dinner with me tonight?

My eyes widened and my mouth opened. What?

Dinner. I’ll cook just for you, after hours, of course.

Flustered, my mouth opened and shut several times before I found my words. No, I don’t want to have dinner with you!

He sighed, but his smile remained. That’s too bad.

I gawked at him as he raised my hand to his lips and kissed it. It was a strange sensation to feel the hard metal of his lip ring with the softness of his mouth on my hand.

Good luck, Darla.

He released my hand, turned away, barked something at one of his staff and disappeared into the back.

I eventually started working in a bakery across the bridge in New Jersey. The owner used to be the pastry chef at a popular fine cuisine restaurant in Manhattan, so it was probably a better position for me than working in M.J.’s anyway.

About a year after our first meeting, I found myself at Cade’s restaurant, on the first date with a classmate. When I’d realized where we were going, I couldn’t come up with a good enough excuse not to go. I couldn’t complain about the food or the service because everyone knew that the food and service were fantastic.

After we’d been seated at our table for some time, though, I began to

Reviews for Sift

[Desiree DeVolk · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Great book! Cannot wait to read more of the authors books!