Pretty as a Peach

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Pretty as a Peach Page 13

by Sawyer Bennett


  “Well, no. But she was in a bad marriage for a very long time.”

  “Irrelevant,” Floyd says and crosses his arms over his chest in defiance.

  “It’s not irrelevant,” I snap at him.

  It’s so relevant. But it’s also not seemingly holding Darby back, so why am I letting it hold me back?

  Floyd, Pap, and Lowe just stare at me as if I’ve not said anything worth them uttering a response to. This ticks me off, so I point an index finger at them, going from left to right as it silently marks each. “None of you have any business giving me advice on women. Floyd… you’ve never been married or even had a girlfriend that I know of. You’re married to your dang shotgun.”

  Floyd furrows his eyebrows, considering my words. I turn to Pap. “And you… you’re too chicken to even ask Mary Margaret Quinn out for a date.”

  Pap flushes red and Lowe laughs, but his smile slides off his face when I turn to him. “And you—”

  He holds up his hands in defense and smirks. “Hey… I’m in love and happily married.”

  I lean into him and taunt with an evil grin. “You got drunk in Vegas and married Mely in front of Elvis.”

  Lowe’s jaw locks and his cheeks turn red with embarrassment.

  “The point being,” I say in a more conciliatory tone. “I know what I’m doing, okay? And slow is the name of the game.”

  Floyd opens his mouth, no doubt to argue I should move faster, but the door to the bar flies open and we all turn to look.

  A tall, black man with a bald head walks in followed by Mely. He’s outrageously dressed in a pair of aqua-colored skinny jeans with matching suede loafers on his feet. A shiny silver shirt sparkles from the neon beer lights all around. He throws his arms up over his head. In a loud voice, he announces, “Morri D has arrived.”

  Mely’s best friend comes down to visit us often from New York and has officially been adopted by Whynot as sort of our official mascot that shows we’re a progressive and accepting southern town.

  Well, most of us anyway. There are a few who look down their noses at him, but not here in Chesty’s. Pap’s made it perfectly clear it won’t be tolerated in here.

  “Pap,” Morri yells as his eyes light on my grandfather.

  The two men hug, then Morri’s kissing Lowe once on each cheek, a feat that has Pap, Floyd, and me now howling with laughter as Lowe tries to dodge Morri’s lips.

  I notice Mely comes to stand quietly beside me, just watching Morri and his antics with a soft smile on her face. She speaks from the side of her mouth to me, “Is it bad I love the way Morri loves to torture Lowe?”

  “Not at all,” I assure her.

  Morri gives a hug to Floyd next, whereby it’s no surprise Floyd gives it back tenfold. He wraps Morri in a huge bear hug, lifts him off his feet, and spins him around. This may seem at odds with the big, gruff mountain of a redneck man who patrols town with a shotgun, but Floyd and Morri have become good friends over the last few months when Morri visits us. In fact, Morri took Floyd to a drag show on one of his visits.

  Morri is only slightly more reserved with me when he turns my way. I don’t even bother to try to hold my hand out for a handshake, knowing it would be ignored and I’d probably get kisses on my cheeks, too. Instead, I decide to open my arms up and accept a warm hug from him, although I punctuate my affection with some manly claps on his back.

  He doesn’t fully release me, rather keeping his hands on my shoulders. He looks deeply into my eyes for a moment. Then his chin tucks in and he coos, “Oh, baby… you got it bad, don’t you?”

  “What?” I ask, completely perplexed.

  “Love. You’ve been hit by the love bug. I can see it in your eyes. In the set to your shoulders. Hell, I can smell it coming off you. Plus… Floyd texted me and told me all about your pretty peach farmer.”

  Lowe, Pap, Floyd, Mely, and the entire opposing dart team howl with laughter. Morri doesn’t crack a smile but just nods. “Mmm. Hmmm. Totally bit by the bug.”

  I pull out of Morri’s grasp and roll my eyes. It’s enough of a denial, but the one thing I would admit to if he asked me right now is I do feel something strong for Darby, and I bet it only gets stronger.

  CHAPTER 19

  Darby

  Even at thirty-one, raising a child for seven years, almost completing a PhD, and weathering a bad marriage, I’m still lacking the confidence to pull the door open without doing a final check of myself.

  I unnecessarily smooth my hair I’d put into a ponytail, check my attire choice for the hundredth time, and put my hand in front of my mouth to puff some air out so I can check that my breath still smells minty after the vigorous brushing I gave them a few minutes ago. Satisfied, I open my front door and greet Colt with a smile.

  Gosh, he looks good. Wearing nothing fancy—because why would he? We’re going to the state fair. But he makes it look like jeans were God-made just to fit his body and for no other reason at all. He’s got on an olive-green Henley and a dark blue windbreaker because it’s a little nippy outside. It’s going to heat up later today, so I also decided on layers for both Linnie and me.

  And here Colt stands on my porch, ready to take me out on a date. And yes, even though he’s taking both Linnie and me to the fair, there’s no doubt this is a date. It could be confusing to some because after our first dinner date, we’ve not made plans yet for another one on one. One could even say the mere fact he specifically chose to do something with Linnie keeps this strictly in the friend zone.

  But I know differently. I knew for sure he wasn’t interested in the friend zone when he asked point blank if I’d give him a kiss at some point as a thank you for handling Linnie’s bully. It wasn’t just the words that spoke volumes, but the tone of his voice and the message in his eyes was clear.

  He’s interested in me in a romantic nature, and God help me… I’m interested right back. I hadn’t planned this, but I also can’t ignore something—someone—who feels just so very right.

  “Gonna invite me in?” Colt asks lightly with eyebrows raised.

  I startle and push the screen door open so fast he has to take a quick step back so I don’t pop him in the face. That causes me to laugh almost hysterically, and Colt’s also chuckling as he steps inside.

  He gives me a once over as I shut the door behind him. Not lewdly nor overtly, but in a subtly appreciative way. I’m not wearing anything special at all—jeans and a lightweight sweater—but I know he likes it when he says, “You look tremendously pretty today, Darby.”

  I can feel the blush all the way through to the roots of my hair, but I let my flirt work. “You’re looking mighty fine, too, Colt.”

  We just stare at each other, almost as if we’re both stuck in a trance. It would be a good time to have our first kiss, but it would also be fine to wait. We just stare at each other, the silence in no way awkward, until Linnie yells down from her bedroom. “M-o-o-o-m-m-m…where are my white hairbows?”

  Colt jumps straight up as Linnie sometimes has no volume control when she calls out to me. I merely jerk in place, give Colt an apologetic smile, and call back up to her not quite so loudly, “I’m not sure, honey. Last I saw them they were on your dresser.”

  “I need them,” she laments… loudly.

  “Then I suggest you look harder,” I return.

  Colt chuckles at our exchange, and I smile back at him. In a much quieter voice, I add on to him alone, “Joys of a seven-year-old girl.”

  “Because the color of your hairbows is important,” Colt replies solemnly.

  “That they are,” I agree, and turn toward the kitchen that sits just beyond the staircase. “I was just finishing up the breakfast dishes. Would you like something to drink? She’ll be down in a few minutes.”

  “I’m good,” he says as he follows me into the kitchen. “Besides… I’m a few minutes early.”

  A knock on the door startles me again, but then I consider it’s probably just Carlos needing something. I wave a hand
toward the small dinette table. “Make yourself at home. I’ll be right back.”

  I make my way to the front door. When I pull it open, I see Mitch standing on the other side of the screen door. Anger heats me up from the inside out as I step up to the screen, but I make no move to open it. How dare he just show up again unannounced and expect he’s going to take Linnie to go sit in a hotel room while he works for the weekend?

  “What are you doing here?” I ask, trying to keep my tone level and non-accusing.

  He answers by opening the screen door and walking right inside. I think for a moment about blocking him and insisting he stay out on the porch, but that will just raise his ire. He brushes past me. In an effort to rein him in, so he doesn’t wander too far into my house, I ask again, “What are you doing here, Mitch?”

  He turns to face me, his voice clipped. “I came to see my daughter. Is that a crime?”

  “It’s not a crime, but it’s certainly rude to show up out of the blue and expect she’ll just be sitting here with nothing to do. As it is, we have plans.”

  “Well, that’s fine, but I still want to see Linnie for a little bit. I have really exciting news for her.” The tone of his voice comes across as ominous. I know with certainty that whatever news he has, it’s not going to set well with me.

  “And what would that be?” I ask quietly.

  “I’m going to be working from the Raleigh office for the foreseeable future. I’m going to do a short-term lease on an apartment.”

  “What does the foreseeable future mean?” My throat is gritty, and my palms start to sweat.

  He shrugs, his smile almost leering. “Long enough to establish domicile here. Looks like the North Carolina courts will be governing the divorce proceedings.”

  I suck in a deep breath through my nose, keeping my lips clamped shut tightly so I don’t scream out at him in frustration. I’m not stupid. I know what this means as my attorney had made a passing comment to me the other day when I’d given him the free rein to go after Mitch hard.

  He’d said, “Be glad you’re not filing in North Carolina, Darby. You have to wait a year from the date you separate in order to get divorced.”

  There’s not a doubt in my mind Mitch is doing this to stall the proceedings. He’s moved here to not only get residence, but to possibly keep pushing at me to reconcile—which will never happen.

  “Now, if you don’t mind,” Mitch continues smoothly. “I’d like to see Linnie so I can tell her the good news. I’m sure your plans can wait just a few minutes.”

  It’s at this moment that Colt meanders out of the kitchen. At first, I’m not sure if he could hear what was going on in here or if he just unexpectedly walked into a heated discussion between two adversaries. But when he walks up behind Mitch and looks at me over his shoulder, I can tell by his eyes he walked in here on purpose in case things got out of hand. He must have heard what was going on.

  Mitch hears Colt’s footsteps and spins toward him. I’m standing at enough of an angle from Mitch that I can see the side of his face, and his eyes go winter cold as he takes in the man standing in his wife’s house. The muscle at the corner of his jaw starts jumping, and a red flush creeps up the back of his neck.

  “Who the hell are you?” Mitch demands.

  Colt gives him a lazy smile and leans against the edge of the staircase bannister, crossing his arms casually over his chest. “A friend of Darby’s.”

  Mitch scoffs and then sneers at Colt. “Friends? Yeah, right.”

  Colt’s demeanor doesn’t change. He just smiles pleasantly at Mitch, who then turns his fury my way. Spinning back to me, he practically hisses. “You’re a married woman, for God’s sake, Darby. And here you are with another man in your house?”

  I could laugh over the irony, coming from a man who has had a mistress for a very long time. But because I don’t care about that, or any of Mitch’s thoughts to be honest, I simply say, “Colt is a friend but even if he was more, it’s none of your business. We are legally separated and whether I pursue a divorce in Illinois or North Carolina, it’s going to happen.”

  Mitch’s face mottles red with fury and veins pop out on his temple. I’ve seen him this angry a time or two, and I can’t help but flinch in anticipation over the nasty, vile things I know he’s getting ready to unleash. I even have a moment of pre-embarrassment that Colt is going to see this.

  Shaking his finger at me, Mitch lets loose with his venom. “You are and always were an incompetent wife. Never understanding your place. A complete failure at everything, even raising our daughter.”

  I don’t take my eyes off Mitch, but I can see Colt from my peripheral vision push off the wall and his posture become rigid.

  “You’re going to regret this, Darby,” Mitch continues without pause or barely taking a breath. “For all the trouble and misery you’ve caused and are continuing to cause, you’re going to regret not taking the easy out I’ve offered you.”

  I can’t help but retort. “And what’s that, Mitch? Coming back to you? Because there would be nothing easy about that. In fact, it’s not a choice at all.”

  “You’ll regret saying that, too,” he snarls at me menacingly, and I take a step backward. Colt takes a step toward Mitch, but I give a tiny shake of my head.

  He doesn’t heed me and speaks rather than acts. “I think it’s time you left,” he says to Mitch in a low voice. “Before this gets out of control.”

  Mitch whirls on Colt and yells. “You don’t tell me what to do, you country bumpkin.”

  Some might find this brave since Colt has several inches on Mitch and over a decade of youth, but Mitch has too big of an ego to ever be intimidated. He would never think in a million years that his mouth could get him in physical trouble—like the kind that ends with Colt’s fist on Mitch’s jaw.

  I step forward and put my hand on Mitch’s arm, hoping to restrain him by a simple soft touch of caution. But he’s so angry and out of control that he flings me off with a violent swing of his arm toward me. He wasn’t trying to hit me, but only by my quick reflexes and scuttling backward was it prevented.

  It seems to happen in slow motion, but Colt starts for Mitch. Everything is spiraling out of control, and I have a moment’s hesitation on whether I should jump in between them.

  Then Linnie’s voice cuts through the haze of indecision. She yells from the top of the staircase, “You leave my mommy alone.”

  Everyone freezes, and Mitch turns to look up at his daughter. She’s got tears in her eyes and true to habit, she pushes her glasses up her nose. Her arms then drop, her little hands balling into tight fists of aggression. “You leave her and me alone. I don’t want to see you.”

  “Linnie, honey,” I say imploringly to her, not to give her father a chance but for her to just look at me and give me some indication she’s not being scarred for life.

  To my consternation, she spins and runs back to her room, slamming the door behind her.

  For a moment, I feel dizzy. Although I’ve never in my life passed out or fainted, I kind of wish for the oblivion. But that escape is not for me.

  Colt steps toward Mitch, and his voice is so hard and unyielding I snap to attention. He leans in to my hopefully soon-to-be ex-husband. With no need to speak above a murmur, he says, “You can leave on your own two feet out that front door, or I can help you along a little quicker. Your welcome here has officially been worn out.”

  Mitch glares at Colt—or rather, up at Colt—and seems to understand suddenly that he could easily go flying out the front door.

  Of course, he has to have the last word. His eyes snap to mine, and he points a threatening finger at me. “Big mistake here today, Darby. Big mistake.”

  I swallow hard, but don’t let my gaze upon him falter. I manage to lift my chin in defiance, but I know the first thing on my agenda come Monday morning is to find a very good and aggressive North Carolina lawyer to help me out.

  Mitch stomps out of the house, slamming the door behin
d him. I watch it for a few moments before turning shamefaced to Colt. “I’m so sorry you had to witness that.”

  Colt walks up to me, his face awash with empathy. He brings a hand to my shoulder where it slides to the back of my neck. He leans down, putting his face before mine. “Don’t you dare apologize for that jackass.”

  I shake my head despite his hold on me. “My life is a mess, Colt. You should walk away.”

  “Don’t want to,” he says stubbornly, his eyes never wavering from mine. “But I am going to call off our trip to the fair right now. Linnie’s upset, and I think you need to go talk to her. Get her settled down.”

  “She has to be scared Mitch is here to take her away or something,” I agree with a nod. I give a tremulous smile. “Again… I’m really sorry, Colt. That was just plain embarrassing.”

  “Your soon-to-be ex is a real jerk,” he mutters. “But there’s light at the end of the tunnel. You’ll be rid of him one day.”

  I nod again, and then to my surprise, Colt leans into me. Not to kiss me on the lips, but to press his forehead to mine in a soft gesture of support. He squeezes my neck once and then turns for the door.

  When he reaches it, he tells me, “I’m going over to talk to Jake. I guarantee you he has contacts and can get to work on finding you a good attorney here in North Carolina.”

  I ordinarily would push back at such help, not only for Colt stepping in but now Jake getting involved once more into my mess. But the truth is Mitch just rattled me. While he’s always been a bully and verbal abuser, I saw something in his eyes I hadn’t really seen before.

  A sort of deranged anger that didn’t look like it could be quenched by anything short of my absolute submission to him. And because that’s not going to happen, I’m not sure what lengths Mitch is going to go to make my life hard.

  CHAPTER 20

  Colt

  “Everything looks really good,” Lowe says as we walk down a row of freshly planted vitis rotundfolia, or muscadine grapes. In particular, I planted the Ison muscadine which is relatively new to the wine-making industry. I chose it because it gives greater yield. For a fledgling winery wanting to get quickly established, this was a good risk to take.

 

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