by Leigh Landry
“I don’t remember.”
“Well, think. It makes a difference.”
It made a lot of difference. She and Denise had never been best buddies, true. But she didn’t like the idea of Marc’s nieces or nephews skipping around with potentially poisonous snakes. She needed him to remember.
Marc closed his eyes, and a shudder passed over his body. “Open mouth.”
“Keep your eyes closed and think again,” she said. “What color was the inside of its mouth?”
“I don’t remember what color—”
“Just think!”
He sighed and put his hand over his closed eyes. After another shudder, he said, “White.”
When he opened his eyes, she nodded. “Okay, I’m sure. That’s why they call them cottonmouths. Most people think they’re all fat and black, but they do come brown and banded, and when they’re young they aren’t so broad. Kind of hard to tell them apart except for the head and tail, which you made short work of. Nice, by the way.”
He frowned and gave a sarcastic, “Thanks.”
Problem solved.
Except it wasn’t. Not really. Identifying it still didn’t explain how it ended up in Denise’s deck box. But at least Sierra had done what she came out here to do.
She held the tail in front of her. “Mind if I keep this?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Seriously? You can take the whole thing.”
Marc found an old shoebox from Denise’s closet and waited by the cars while Sierra scraped up what was left of the snake. She said they’d take photos of the tail for the Nature Station’s website. Her boss would be thrilled to have a young specimen on hand.
He couldn’t shake the feeling that she seemed excited by it. If it had been anyone else, he’d have been completely repulsed, but this was Sierra.
She strode over carrying the cardboard box in one arm while spinning her keys over the index finger of her other hand. Cool and confident and sexy as hell. He couldn't believe this was the same awkward tomboy who'd run through ditches with him as a kid.
Her hair was shorter. Dark waves grazed her shoulders instead of trailing, unbrushed, down her back. And no way did the Sierra he remembered fill out a pair of jeans like that. Then there was the edge of a colorful tattoo peeking out beneath the sleeve of her navy, v-neck T-shirt.
Her eyes gave her away though. And that mouth. She used to laugh so loud that her giggles gave her away in every game of hide-and-seek. Marc’s mom always kicked them outside so she didn’t have to hear that loud voice all afternoon.
But this woman walking toward him. He could think of a lot of other ways to use that mouth of hers now.
“All done.” She smirked and patted the top of the box. “You can stop hiding in the corner now.”
It was her, all right. She winked and gave him that great big grin that reminded him of all the trouble she’d gotten them into.
“Thanks. Do I owe you anything for coming out here?”
“Nope. I’m on the clock.” She paused and looked as if she were debating something. “Unless you want to buy me lunch sometime. We could catch up?”
If he didn’t know better, he would have sworn he caught an edge of hope or fear in her voice. But Sierra had never been afraid of anything.
“Yeah, sure,” he said, trying not to sound too eager. “It’s the least I can do for you coming out here. I have something tomorrow. How about Sunday?”
“Sounds good.” She dropped the box onto the passenger’s seat through the open window and snatched a pen from the cupholder. Grabbing his hand and holding it open, she scribbled her number on his palm. “My cell.”
“Don’t I have already have it from when you called earlier?”
She shrugged. “This way you won’t forget about Sunday.”
“You could have just told me to put it on my calendar.”
“Where’s the fun in that?” She smiled and walked around to the driver’s seat. “Now you have to explain that to your girlfriend.”
“No, no girlfriend,” Marc said too quickly. He leaned into the window. “Seriously, thanks for coming out here. Denise appreciates it too.”
“Oh, I’m sure your sister will be so happy that I was at her house.”
“Well, maybe not. But thanks anyway.”
“No problem. Like I said, you guys should be fine.” Her brow furrowed. “I didn’t find any signs of others on the property, and I have no idea why it was in that box. Total fluke. She shouldn’t have any other problems.”
“Right.”
“But, you know,” she said, looking into his eyes, “keep an eye out for a while, okay? Have her watch where the kids play maybe?”
He nodded. “Got it. Thanks.”
An awkward moment or ten passed while Marc’s brain struggled for some reason to keep her there. Finally, coming up empty, he pulled back from the window.
He waved while she drove past the line of trees and turned onto the road before looking down at his hand. His skin was still warm from her grasp, still burning from the numbers etched into his palm.
Crap. Denise was right. He was hopeless.
He grabbed his phone, and his thumbs hovered over the keypad as he waited to text his sister. What was he supposed to say? Uh, hey, sis, you had a poisonous snake in your kids’ toy box? Probably not the best message when she was in a museum with the kids and couldn’t do anything about it anyway. No, something gentler.
Done. Cleaned up. Sierra took it back to the nature station. No sign of any others. All good.
She’d have more questions later. He’d tell her the truth, but no sense scaring her right now.
By the time he locked up the house and got back to his car, she’d sent a text back.
Did you two defile my lawn?
He wished.
She would throw a fit if she found out about their lunch plans. The last thing he wanted was Denise trying to talk him out of this. It was only lunch after all. Two old friends catching up.
It wasn’t like they’d dated. They’d been kids. Sure, she’d been his first kiss, but it was one kiss, right before she moved. Never mind the fact that he daydreamed about that kiss for years afterward. They’d tried to keep in touch. He called her all the time. That kiss had hovered in every conversation, awkward and unacknowledged. But he'd kept calling anyway. They’d talked about everything. Her new school. Her classes. Her new friends.
Then it all ended. Like things do.
So this was just lunch. No biggie.
He started the car and drove to his house two lots down. Before he went inside to grab a bite to eat, he stood in his driveway and watched Denise’s house. Waiting for what? To see the snake mafia move in now that he’d left? Maybe they needed more activity in the yard. Something to deter wildlife? A dog. The kids would love that.
Shaking his head, Marc went inside and let the screen door slam behind him. Convincing Denise to get a dog would be as pointless as convincing her that lunch with Sierra was a good idea. Actually, he was pretty sure he would have more luck with the dog.
3
Sierra breezed past two women with a pair of small children to drop her shoebox beside Dale’s coffee mug. “I have a present for you.” She flipped the lid open and presented her treat with a flourish. “Ta-da!”
Dale looked over the rims of his glasses, unamused by her enthusiastic interruption. Once he looked down, his eyes widened.
“Fantastic! Well worth the trip, hmm?” He rooted in the box, shifting the body from side to side and lifting the detached tail. “Where’s the head?”
Sierra shrugged. “Ground into the dirt and attached to a shovel. There was no recovering that sucker. This will have to do.”
“Ah, well, that smarts. But this is wonderful.”
If they didn't have visitors checking out Sammy the turtle, Dale would have stretched it for a full examination. But his discretion wasn’t enough. Once the women saw the station’s newest treasure, they shuttled both kids out the door. Sierra
had no idea why they were in a hurry. She was pretty sure those kids would have loved to touch the scales.
“So did I earn my lunch?” she asked. “I’m starving.”
“Oh, yes, yes. Definitely.” With his eyes still glued on his prize, he dug a twenty from his wallet and handed it to her.
“Two shrimp po-boy halves?” she asked.
“That’s fine.”
Sierra smiled. She’d had to put off her visit with Liz, but the joy on Dale’s face and the free lunch more than made up for the unexpected hassle. Plus, she’d been on the clock the whole time, so at least she was getting paid. And it turned out Liz’s schedule filled up straight through until Luna’s appointment anyway. Sierra hated not being able to deliver the turtle bone before therapy, but at least now she could personally hand it to Luna.
“Oh, Sierra,” Dale called before the cypress door slammed behind her.
“Yes?”
“After we eat, would you like to help me take some photos of this? Maybe help set it up for maceration? On the clock, of course.”
“Sure. Thanks.”
She waved the twenty at him as she left, and almost skipped down the wooden stairway. A couple extra hours wouldn’t pay their mortgage, but it was a start. And it was way more fun than digging through job ads. She’d still have to do that later, but at least she could get a bit of enjoyment first.
As she drove through the campground, another familiar friend stepped across her path. She slammed on the brakes, and the dog froze in the middle of the road. Before she could get out to grab it, he loped off toward one of the tents.
She’d talk to whoever owned that tent if they were still around after she got a bite to eat. She definitely needed food. Maybe that would help erase Scott Dugas from her mind.
Or Marc Dugas.
Whatever his name was.
Marc and his sexy eyes and his warm hand and all those other parts she should definitely not think about.
Why the heck had she gone and asked him to lunch? She didn’t need to catch up or reminisce about old times. And she definitely didn’t need to see those dark brown eyes or those thick, dark waves again. Nope. Definitely not.
Curiosity.
That was it. She was simply curious. She didn’t have a lot of friends, so seeing someone she’d been close to had been a nice change. A natural impulse.
Still, nothing good could come of this. Marc would flash that warm smile at her. Then he’d want to talk about the past. What was the point in that? Sierra had no interest in a relationship right now. Especially not with someone who already had their chance and blew it.
Besides, she needed a job, not a date.
Sierra would have to call and cancel, that was all. She’d call Marc and tell him that she was sick or that she’d made a mistake and couldn’t make it.
Right. That.
She looked at her phone on the seat beside her. But all she could think about was his smile. That and how standing next to him in Denise’s yard was the closest thing to home she’d felt in fifteen years.
Tomorrow.
She’d call him and cancel tomorrow.
Twenty-two televisions flashed college football games, a sports news show, and a golf tournament. Of all the sports bars in Lafayette, this was Marc’s favorite. It kept the radio low and was never too crowded during lunch. Freddy enjoyed a different view—one involving tiny, red, skin-tight shorts. That made this his obvious choice for their Saturday thank-you lunch.
Marc tilted back his IPA and shook his head when Freddy tried to order another round. Freddy and the waitress frowned at each other and made pouting faces at Marc.
“No way. I have a game later. I don’t have time for a beer nap like some people.”
“Hey, I have earned my beer nap, my friend.” Freddy thanked the waitress anyway and told her he didn’t want a second beer either. “And so have you.”
“No time for that.”
Freddy side-eyed him while stuffing the last two fries in his mouth. Still chewing, he asked, “No hot date?”
“No,” Marc said, choking on his own spit.
Freddy grabbed Marc’s hand and flipped it over to reveal the faded ink on his palm.
“You sure about that?”
Marc shook his head and pulled his hand back to down the rest of his beer. Stalling, yes. Because he was having a hard time accepting that he was meeting Sierra Menard for lunch tomorrow.
“She’s just an old friend I ran into yesterday.”
“How old? Like Old Man McDougall old? Or like college girlfriend old?”
“Like we were both kids when she moved.”
“Ah,” Freddy said, still eying Marc suspiciously. “I’m betting she’s no kid anymore.”
“No. No, she is definitely not.” Marc picked at the label on his empty bottle, remembering her eyes. So familiar, but different somehow. Her shaggy hair. Her mouth. How she looked bending over into the car…
“So?” Freddy asked.
“So what?”
“So what’s the story? Wait, is that what you ran out on me at the station yesterday for?”
“No. Well, not exactly.”
Freddy squinted and took Marc’s last three fries. “Fess up.”
“Denise called me when she found a snake at the house. I told you that.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And the Nature Station sent Sierra out to identify it for us.”
“Sierra, huh? She sounds hot.”
Marc raised an eyebrow at his friend. “You looking for more trouble?”
“Me? Hell, no!”
Freddy’s plate always overflowed with trouble. Not all the female type of trouble, but enough. Not that the women he dated were trouble. More that his habit of dating them at the same time without them knowing that fact was troublesome. To say the least.
“But I was thinking you could stand a little trouble in your life.”
“Me?” Marc laughed. “I don’t have time for a second beer. You think I have time for a girlfriend?”
“No, but I think you need to make time for one.”
“How many women did you set me up with this summer? Huh?”
Freddy shook his head and frowned. “And how many dates did you go on with each of them.”
“I didn’t need more than one.”
“Pfft.”
“You saying I’m picky?”
“No, I’m saying you aren’t giving anyone a chance.”
“Says the man who’s currently dating three women.”
“Hey!” Freddy threw his hands up in defense. “That’s the only way I can give them all a fair chance. Time crunch.”
The waitress brought the check, and Marc gave her his credit card while Freddy continued to grill him.
“So you still haven’t explained why this Sierra person’s digits are on your hand.”
“We’re having lunch tomorrow to catch up. Her suggestion.”
“Nice.”
“It’s nothing,” Marc said, assuring himself as much as Freddy.
“Nothing, huh? So you didn’t shower, or are you leaving that ‘nothing’ on your hand for a reason?”
Marc wanted to smack the smug grin off his friend’s face. If, you know, Freddy hadn’t been completely right.
“I showered.” He rubbed at his palm. “Dang stuff just doesn’t want to come off.”
Freddy downed the last of his beer and let out a long, satisfied sigh. “So where you taking this nothing girl?”
“I’m not taking her anywhere. We’re gonna meet for lunch. Haven’t decided where yet.”
“Sure.” He grinned again.
Marc signed the receipt and stood. “If you’re done riding my butt, I’m gonna go to the office for a bit before the game.”
His phone rang. Marc glanced at the number. “That can’t be good.”
“Is that Miss Nothing?”
Marc shook his head. “Denise.”
He’d called to assure they were okay before he left
for lunch. Then he'd made her promise to call if she found any more problems.
“What’s up?”
He listened carefully. She was calm and clear, but rage and terror trilled at the edge of her voice.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes.”
“Trouble?” Freddy stood to walk out with him.
“Yeah,” Marc said. “A whole lot of it this time.”
Sierra crossed the porch beneath the giant metal spiderweb of the Some Pig tattoo shop. She waved to the new guy at the front station, then threw open the curtain to the second room down the hall.
Liz sat hunched over the back of a guy’s hairy calf, finishing up a purple and gold fleur-de-lis.
“So we need to talk, I guess.”
She plopped herself on a stool facing the guy in the chair. He sneered at her, but Sierra glared back at him. He was, after all, getting an upside-down fleur-de-lis. Who was he to judge?
“Yeah, you were already crashed when we got back last night.” Liz wiped the guy’s leg and examined her work. “I missed out on one of Sierra’s Famous Storytime Hours.”
Sierra had tried to stay awake, but she fell asleep waiting for Liz and Luna to get back from dinner at Liz’s mom’s house. Her long day with work and Marc and worrying about money had knocked her right out.
“It was a long day.”
“Sounds like it. Want to start at the beginning?” Liz asked without looking up. “What happened at the restaurant?”
What happened was Sierra was completely screwed. Her job search that evening had brought up a big, fat list of nothing.
Sierra took a deep, cleansing breath and recited the mantra her dad taught her after one of his retreats. I am a rock. Neither wind nor water can move me.
Crock of crap as far as Sierra was concerned. But it took time to say it, so she recited it in her head when she needed a minute to not completely lose it. She usually said it with her eyes shut far too tightly for it to ever be relaxing.
She opened her eyes. “I got fired, so now I’ve gotta pay my half of the mortgage with what I make dragging ten-year-olds through the woods.”
At that, the man picked his head up and looked at her with a mix of confusion and horror. Liz blotted the guy’s calf with a tissue and handed him a mirror.
