Lincoln Shaw: a book in the Cotton Creek Saga (Heartbreakers & Heroes 8)

by Ciana Stone

  "Are you serious? How can you beat Tallulah Christmas?"

  He chuckled again. "You have a point. Are you working tonight?"

  "I work every night except Sunday."

  "What time do you go in?"

  "Nine to close."

  "Want to have dinner before your shift?"

  "I'd love to, but I normally sleep, work and then eat. Pole dancing and full bellies don't mix well."

  "Got it. So, after?"

  "There's not much open after one in the morning."

  "I'll cook."

  "Can you?"

  "Not really.'

  "Are you wrangling for more of my home cooking?"

  "Is it working?"

  This time she chuckled. "Okay, meet me at my place at two, and I'll feed you."

  "See you then."

  "Okey-dokey. Bye."

  She put the phone down on the counter and leaned against it for a few moments. Maybe she'd get something put together before she went to sleep and then she could just pop it in the oven when she got home.

  As she headed for the refrigerator, it dawned on her that tomorrow was the day she was supposed to teach Charli and Reese to make apple butter. She mentally kicked herself. Perhaps she should call Lincoln and cancel their dinner date. She'd be toast if she stayed up all night and then did the gym and jam thing.

  Or not. She'd gone without sleep before and survived, and she really didn't want to cancel the date. She might not be planning on sleeping with Lincoln, but she sure didn't want to miss out on spending time with him. Something told her there was a lot more to him than just good looks and a hot body.

  And she just purely loved the process of discovery.

  Chapter Five

  "Hey, earth to Lula."

  Lula snapped to attention, a bit embarrassed to have been caught with her mind wandering. "Sorry."

  "Where were you just then?" Reese asked.

  "Thinking of trouble." Lula grinned and refocused on the task at hand. The apples were now ready to be put into the jars.

  "Ooooh, you can't drop a bomb like that and then just go silent." Charli protested. "What kind of trouble?"

  "The between-the-sheets kind."

  "You have my attention," Reese said and turned with a tray of jars. She placed the tray on the countertop beside the stove. "What gives?"

  Lula figured it wouldn't hurt to tell. "I had a dinner date last night. Well, this morning. After work."

  "Hold on, what do you mean exactly – last night or this morning?"

  "It was last night – late last night and was dinner, but we ate around two."

  "In the morning?"

  "Yeah. Okay these are ready. Who wants to fill the jars?"

  "I will." Charli volunteered. "And you said after work. What exactly do you do?"

  "Pole dance."

  "Pole dance as in—you know, exotic dancer?" Reese asked.

  "Yes. Over at the Men Only Club in Rock Ridge."

  "The strip club?" Charli asked.

  "Yes."

  She could tell by the deafening silence that her new friends weren't prepared for her revelation. Lula turned her attention to cleaning up the things piled in the sink. "I'm guessing you have an issue with that?" She cut a look over her shoulder at Charli.

  "Actually no, but didn't you say you have an interview at the high school for a job?"

  "Yes. So?"

  "So, what if the principal has visited the club and—well, you know."

  "Has seen me topless in a G-string?"

  "Yeah, that?"

  "He probably wouldn't recognize me. I wear a beautiful black lace mask and a blonde wig."

  "Oh, well that's good. I mean that he wouldn't recognize you."

  "But you have a problem with what I do."

  "She didn't say that," Reese cut in.

  "And I don't have a problem with it. I'm just surprised that a –" Charli cut her eyes at Reese, a move that didn't go unnoticed.

  "That a what?" Lula asked.

  "That a two-time Olympic medalist would end up stripping," Reese said.

  "Oh. I see someone knows how to Google."

  "Yes, and I won't apologize for that. I was curious. And for crying out loud, Lula, you're an Olympian."

  "So? That was a long time ago."

  "Still. It seems wrong for you to be using your talents to—to—"

  "I get it." Lula decided to let them off the hook. "You think that because I won those medals back when I was a teenager, my life should be a big ol' bowl of roses."

  "Well, no, I mean. Fuck I don't know." Reese threw up her hands. "I'm not trying to insult you. I just don't get how you go from that to this."

  "Life happens, Reese, and sometimes it happens hard and unexpectedly, so we do what's necessary to keep going. But just so we're all on the same page, I took the job as a dancer because I need a roof over my head and there's only me to make that happen.

  "I really hope I can get the job at the high school but until that happens, I need income, and I can make more in two nights at the club than I can in a week doing most anything else."

  "I'm sorry." Reese apologized. "We really didn't mean any offense. And honestly, I don't think there's anything wrong with pole dancing. I just thought those medals would have afforded you more of a leg up in life, no pun intended."

  Lula smiled. "It would have been nice but wasn't in the cards. And hey, you never know, I just might get that job at the school."

  "I'm rooting for you," Charli said. "Seriously. We all do what we have to in order to survive, and I'd never fault anyone for doing that. I think it takes a lot of guts to be honest. All those men watching... I don't know if I could do it."

  "Sure, you could. Once you realize you're the one with the power."

  "Say what?"

  "You heard me. Men are visual creatures, as well as tactile. They like to watch, and they love the way a woman's body is built. Dance for them and their hands start itching to touch. Only that's not allowed. All they can do is stick their money in the band of your G-string, and dear lord do they take their sweet time with that.

  "You can feel it—how much they want to do more. But they can't, and that makes their wanting keener and your tips larger."

  "Wow, I've never considered it that way," Charli said. "And don't take offense, but I've heard that some of the dancers do—side work—the kind that's more than dancing."

  "Men can buy private lap dances if they can afford it. But the hands-off policy still applies."

  "No, I mean other things."

  "Oh, you mean the hoes."

  Reese laughed. "The hose?"

  "The women who sell sex."

  "Your tone tells me you don't think much of them."

  Lula shook her head. "I feel sorry for them. Whatever demon they have riding them – addictions or loyalty to a pimp or just plain being broke, that forces them to spread their legs for men they don't even know, is a terrible burden and I wouldn't trade places with them for anything. But I also feel a little annoyed because if you want something bad enough you should be willing to fight for it, whether it's getting clean, out of debt, an unhealthy relationship or whatever. Not just bend over and take it up the ass like a coward."

  "Wow, don't hold back, Lula, what do you really think?" Reese asked.

  Lula snorted. "Sorry, got on my stump there for a second, didn't I?"

  "Maybe a little, but I agree."

  "Me, too," Charli added. "And if we can rewind a bit, you said you were thinking about trouble. The between the sheets kind. What did you mean?"

  Life was too short to dwell on negative, and Lula didn't think the girls had meant any offense. They were just trying to figure her out. So, she let it all go and smiled. "One word. Thor."

  "Thor," Reese said and looked at Charli.

  "Thor," Charli repeated and looked at Lula. "Something tells me there's a story there."

  "Indeed, there is. Now, let's get these jars filled. Reese, you spoon in the apples. I'll top i
t with the wax and Charli you put on the lids and rims and put them into the pressure cooker.

  "Okay, let's do it."

  Once they were in the process, Charli prodded Lula. "So, the story?"

  Within ten seconds Lula had them laughing, and before they were finished with the jars of apple butter, she was finishing the tale.

  "So, that's why you called him Thor at the diner," Reese said.

  "Well yeah, I mean look at the man. All those muscles and icy grey eyes and blond hair. Thor, baby."

  "And have you seen him since then?"

  "He was my dinner date last night."

  "Oh, girl." Reese nudged her. "Talk around town says all the women he's been with are kind of addicted to him."

  "I wouldn't know about that."

  "You didn't—" Charli stopped, not just talking, but moving. "Y'all didn't?"

  "No."

  "No?"

  "No. Like I told you, the first night we kissed and last night—well, last night we didn't."

  "Why?"

  "Because he has women addicted to him and he's a career player."

  "And?" Charli asked.

  "And I'm not. I don't sleep around. I may not care about nudity, but I'm not easy, and I have to get to know someone before I have sex with them. Besides ..." She smiled. "A woman's power comes from making a man want her, now doesn't it?"

  "Oh, you are wicked, Tallulah Duval," Charli said and offered Lula a high five.

  "Not at all, and that's Tallulah Christmas Duval."

  "Christmas?"

  Lula grinned. "Yes, ma'am. And after last night I'm dedicated to the idea of making Thor's mind all about the magical delights of Christmas."

  Charli and Reese laughed, and Lula joined in. She might have made it sound like a jest, but last night she'd decided that she was genuinely interested in Lincoln. He'd not pressed for more than her company and hadn't protested when she backed away from a kiss. He'd merely asked if they could go out on her next free night.

  He was, most definitely, a player, and there was a very good chance he was trying to play her. But she saw the other side of him when they talked. He was a good man, with a big heart and one day he was going to open that heart and let someone in.

  If he continued to be as appealing to her as he was right now, she just might be the one who wanted to walk through that opening.

  But for now, she had apple butter to finish and then a lunch date with Cody and Hannah and their father, Billy. Lula was glad she'd asked for the night off. She was going to be whipped by the time the luncheon was over and tomorrow was her interview for the job at the high school.

  The last thing she wanted was to show up with dark circles under her eyes and dragging ass. That wasn't the impression she was keen on making because she really needed to land this job.

  She'd been sent here for a purpose, and she fully intended to fulfill it. But after that, she needed to think about settling down. It was way past time that she found a place she could sink some roots and start building a future instead of being held hostage by the past.

  Chapter Six

  If she hadn't been walking down the hallway with Principal McCall, Lula would have squealed and engaged in a happy dance. She had the job. A bit more full-time than she'd expected, but she wouldn't complain. Getting the job had been her goal, so she'd count herself lucky and not bitch.

  At least not yet. There might come a time when she would. To be granted the job as the physical education teacher for the girls, she had to agree to two things. Become the coach for the gymnastic team and coach the cheering team.

  Neither was a real hardship. Just more hours than expected. Right now, she and Principal McCall were on their way to meet the Coach of the football team, Dillon Walker. Principal McCall wanted her to coordinate with the Coach on things like pep rallies and travel arrangements.

  Lula didn't have a clue where to start on that, but with luck, her predecessor would have left notes, or Dillon Walker would know. She found it interesting that he was referred to as Coach or the Coach. She'd heard that folks in Texas took their football seriously. Even to the point of elevating the coach of a school team to something like royalty. The Coach.

  She smiled at the notion then started to think there was more to it than she realized. Principal McCall led her out of the school and to a state of the art training facility at one end of a football stadium that could have put major universities to shame.

  Wow, there was nothing second rate here at all. She took note of the layout, the huge walls of glass and multiple entrances as they neared the building. Once inside, they passed the coaches lounge and stopped in front of a door bearing a plaque that read "Coach Dillon Walker".

  Principal McCall knocked and at the sound of a male voice calling out, "come on in," he opened the door and looked in.

  "Coach? Got a minute?"

  "Sure, Adam. Come on in."

  "Thank you." Principal McCall gestured for Lula to precede him and she gave him a smile before stepping into the room.

  Woo hoo. Texas forever. She thought when she saw Dillon Walker. I bet there's not a girl in this school that doesn't want to give him a ride. Not to mention their mamas. Yes, he was that hot.

  Tall, lean but obviously well built, Dillon was blessed with coal black hair, eyes the color of a clear Carolina sky and a face that would give a woman something to fantasize about for a long time.

  "I wanted to introduce you to the new girl's PE teacher, gymnastics and cheering coach, Ms. Tallulah Duval. Ms. Duval, this is Coach Dillon Walker."

  "Of the Cotton Creek Mustangs," she added and smiled as she stuck out her hand. "A pleasure, Mr. Walker."

  "Coach Walker," Principal McCall corrected.

  "My apology, Coach."

  "Dillon is fine, Ms. Duval." He took her hand.

  "I'm Lula. Principal McCall says I need to coordinate with you on pep rallies and travel arrangements."

  "Yes, we need to make some time to sit down and go over things."

  "Okay, just let me know when you're ready. And do either of you know if the previous coach had any notes or guidelines that might help me get a firm footing here?"

  Dillon looked at the Principal. "Adam, surely Pam left something that would help Lula get up to speed."

  "Check with the assistant coach, Linda Bodine, Ms.Duval. She's still here, filling in for Pam until we got a permanent replacement."

  "Great," Lula said. "If I could get her number, I'll give her a call and see if we can get together in the next day or so. I'd like to be up to speed and ready to go before the next game which is when?"

  "A week from Friday. I'll call Ms. Bodine and ask her to call you if that's okay."

  "Perfect. Thank you, Principal McCall. And again, nice to meet you, Coach Walker. I'll look forward to hearing from you."

  "Same here, Lula. Have a good day."

  "You too." She looked up at the Principal. "Are you finished with me for the day, sir?"

  "I am. Go over the packet of material I gave you, fill out and sign everything and have it back to the school secretary, Mrs. Hopewell, tomorrow if possible."

  "I will do that. Thank you, sir. I'm looking forward to working here and won't disappoint."

  "I have every confidence, Ms. Duval. Good day."

  "And to you, sir. Hope you gentlemen have a nice day."

  Lula waited until she was in her car before she let loose a long breath. She pulled out her phone and made a call. "Is he available?" She asked as soon as the call was answered. "Yes, fine, this number."

  Less than ten seconds after she ended the call, the phone rang. "Just wanted to let you know that I got the job. Plus, I've been assigned to coach gymnastics and cheerleading." She listened for a moment before speaking again. "Yes, the cheerleaders do travel to the away games, so I'll be in close proximity."

  After listening to instructions she'd been given multiple times, she responded. "Yes, sir. Of course. Goodbye."

  For a few minutes, she sat there, thi
nking about what had initially brought her here and the new developments that were altering her motivations for wanting to be here. Like Lincoln, and the people she'd met that were more than mere conduits of information.

  Lula didn't remember the last time she'd had this feeling. Perhaps when she lost her family and felt so alone. Then she'd desperately wanted to belong, to have a place that felt like home. That longing set her feet upon a path that ultimately led here, so maybe fate had a hand in this after all.

  But was her desire some unresolved yearning from the past, or was it more? In other words, why now? A mental image flashed through her mind and caused her to wonder if her being here involved more than merely an assignment and yes, a desire she'd never filled.

  It'd been too long since she'd had a sense of belonging. If she was successful here, perhaps this could be permanent. Or not. Who knew how long this assignment would last? Unless an obvious move was made, there was a good chance no one would ever know why she'd come here. Could she possibly convert an assignment into a career?

  Teaching? You really think you can do that?

  Her phone rang, startling her and she quickly pulled it from her purse. The caller ID brought a smile to her face. "Hey there, Lincoln. What's up?"

  "Have you gone to the interview yet?"

  "I have."

  "And?"

  "I got the job."

  "Congratulations, Lula. Want to celebrate?"

  "When?"

  "What's your first night off?"

  "Sunday."

  "Then I'll pick you up after your shift on Saturday and have you home on Sunday afternoon."

  "Um, where are we going?"

  "It's a surprise."

  "Then how do I know what to wear?"

  "Pack a change of clothes and a swimsuit."

  "Okay, so I guess I'll see you Saturday."

  "I look forward to it. And congratulations."

  "Thank you, Lincoln. See you on Saturday."

  She put her phone on the car seat and stared at it for a moment. It surprised her that Lincoln remembered she had the interview today. And it touched her that he'd called.

  It also concerned her that she'd accepted his invitation without even finding out where they were going on their weekend date.

  Would he expect more than a kiss this time and if he pressed, would she give in and have sex with him? She was sure as heck going to try not to make that mistake. The next time she had sex she wanted it to be with a man she loved. Not just someone who made her lust-o-meter red line.