Hyacinth hadn’t been excited and was irritated at Sterling again, having admitted earlier today that she hadn’t likedSterling’sfuture wifecomment from last evening. She thought that, once again, Sterling was being a coward and not fighting for his relationship with Violet.
Violet hadn’t admitted to her sister that the comment had stung a little. Instead, she’d insisted that Sterling had every right to choose someone else since she’d already had her chance and had thrown it away. Even if a secret part of her had hoped Sterling might still care about her, she also respected that he wanted to move on to a different woman and didn’t want to be burdened by her problems and issues.
Sterling swirled a wooden spoon in the mixture, then stood back and glanced her way. “Are you ready to make snow candy?”
“Snow candy?” Violet sat up. “What’s that?”
“I’ll show you.” Sterling returned to the door, stepped outside for a few moments, then came back carrying two plates filled with perfectly white powdery snow.
He placed one plate in front of Violet and the other near Hyacinth, who set down her sewing and eyed the snow warily.
Sterling lifted the pan with the molasses–sugar mixture to the table. He dipped the spoon into the pan, scooped up a spoonful, then dribbled the golden mixture into the snow, twirling it to make a circle. When finished, he gingerly picked up the now-solid molasses.
“Snow candy.” He held out the piece.
She studied the glassy circle-shaped candy. “It looks interesting.”
“Try it.”
She hesitated.
He broke off a piece and touched it to her mouth.
Was he actually feeding her candy?
She raised her gaze to his to find that his eyes were nearly the same color as the candy—a sugary light brown. They were warm with kindness and tenderness and nothing more.
Did she want his eyes to hold attraction—the desire that had flared on occasion when they’d been courting?
Maybe she did. Maybe she wanted to try again with him, even though everything in her told her she shouldn’t, that she needed to let him go. Wasn’t that what she’d been telling herself all day? Even just moments ago?
She’d never been good at flirting, had never interacted much with men before meeting Sterling. She supposed that whenever her family had moved, she’d been hesitant to form relationships with men much the same way she’d been hesitant to form friendships with women, because she was embarrassed about her family’s problems and had wanted to keep them a secret.
But now Sterling knew all her secrets. He even knew how low her father had fallen to be willing to send her and Hyacinth to be dancehall girls.
She had nothing to lose with Sterling, did she? Could she take a chance and see if he might learn to like her again?
Without breaking her gaze from his, she parted her lips.
His attention dropped to her mouth, and he slipped the candy inside.
As the sugary treat touched her tongue, she closed her mouth to savor the grainy sweetness, and her lips made contact with two of his fingers.
He froze with his eyes locked on her mouth.
She grew motionless too. A part of her knew she needed to open her mouth and pull back. But this contact with his fingers was somehow exciting, the touch of him reminding her of the few times they’d kissed and how his lips had felt against hers—so soft and tender and also heated and filled with desire.
As if hearing her thoughts, or perhaps remembering their kisses too, his gaze slid back up to hers. This time the brown was a rich molasses, thick and dark. He held her gaze as though he couldn’t make himself let go, as though he wanted the momentto last, as though maybe, just maybe, he did still feel something for her.
Her heart fluttered with something of her own.
In the next instant, though, he swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple prominent in his throat. He dropped his hand from her mouth, glanced away, and took a step back, palming the back of his neck and looking everywhere but at her.
She closed her mouth over the candy and tried to focus on the deliciousness, but her mind was still processing the taste of Sterling and the pleasure of the contact with him.
Clearing his throat, Sterling reached for the spoon in the pan and filled it with more of the molasses liquid. “We have to make the candy before the snow melts.” He dribbled another spoonful onto Violet’s plate.
Hyacinth’s gaze was bouncing between Violet and Sterling, one brow quirked. When Sterling finished making another piece of candy, he handed the spoon to Hyacinth, and she began making her own formations in the snow.
