by Zoe Dawson
“You can make a story out of anything.”
“Yeah, I can.” He tossed the apple up and caught it, his eyes going distant. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree.”
“What?” That meant something really important to him. He slipped the apple with the flaw into the bag and closed it with a twist tie.
“You know that saying, kids are like their parents, like father, like son.”
I watched his face, saw the way his jaw hardened against some unpleasant memory, saw the anger in his dark eyes and the vulnerability that lay beneath it, and my heart ached for him. “Your father liked telling stories?”
“Yeah, only the kind he told landed him in jail. If he stuck around long enough to be arrested.”
“He was a con artist.”
“Yes. He left town because of it. Only made matters worse for my ma and us. But he didn’t care.”
“You’ve never heard from him?”
“Nope.”
“I’m sorry, Booker. I didn’t know my father. He died when I was just a baby.”
“From what?”
“I don’t know. My mother never told me, and I was too afraid of her to ask any questions.” I had to swallow hard to continue. “The day she died, I felt like everything I once had was gone. All my history was erased, my very existence, even, and that made me feel like I was fading away, too. That’s when I just sat down with my school books still in the backpack hanging from my shoulder, my Barbie lunch box with the meticulously rinsed and stacked plasticware still inside. Terror and panic twisting together into a new, horrible emotion that paralyzed me.”
I stopped pushing the cart and faced him. “I didn’t move from that spot for two days. I didn’t eat. I didn’t sleep. I didn’t even go to the bathroom. I think I might have just died there in that position if Aunt Lottie hadn’t found me. They said I was in shock, but I knew differently. It wasn’t shock because my mother had died. All I’d felt for her was fear, and that fear was just replaced with more fear. I was all alone.”
“Jesus, Aubree.”
In the grocery store, he put his arms around me and that moment became an important memory. It was the day I told Booker about something I’d never told anyone in my life. Was that growth? Was that maturity? I didn’t really know. Or care. It just felt freaking awesome.
“You are so brave,” he whispered.
I didn’t feel brave. Like that apple, I had bruises that were just beneath my skin. I felt compelled to open up to him because he’d shown me he was the type of person who could see beyond that flaw in an apple. Maybe he could see beyond my flaws, too. I could only hope he felt the same way about me after I told him the bleacher story. I knew I would have to tell him soon.
“What is your aunt’s favorite food?”
I blinked and looked up at him.
He just smiled his wicked and wily Booker smile.
“What are you up to?”
“Anyone who’s been in the hospital deserves their favorite thing. What is hers?”
“Caviar. She refuses to buy it because it’s so expensive.”
He tilted his head. “Let’s get some.”
“She didn’t authorize me to get some.”
“Ha! See? Not on the list.”
“Shut up.” He was right. I was just such a stickler for the rules. God, I wanted to make love with this man. That thought came barreling out of nowhere. I hadn’t even been thinking about Booker in a sexual way. Just thinking about him in a rascally way, about how he always bucked authority. I think I was admiring that in him. I was so rigid, and he was just so laid back.
“I’ll pay for it.”
“Okay. I know better than to go up against a word-master. I’m going to go get something from the deli. You go pick out the caviar.”
He nodded and headed off with the cart.
I watched him go, feeling a bit guilty. Even though I had opened up about my mother, there were still too many secrets between us. I don’t know what secrets he was harboring, but they were there in those dreamy eyes. Could we really bare our souls to each other without losing something precious? The thought weighed heavily. I didn’t know how he would react to what I had seen that day from behind the bleachers. To what I’d learned, and to what I hadn’t done.
But for some reason, I didn’t think it would be good.
Chapter Ten
Booker
“Booker?”
“Brax. What’re you doin’?
He huffed. “I’m shopping for your damn party because you were too busy. Something about a manuscript you had to get done, if I recollect correctly. So what are you doing here?”
“Um.” The word-master drew a complete blank.
“What do you have in this basket? Asparagus?” His brows rose.
“Hey, I like fresh asparagus.”
“You don’t even know what it is.” He rummaged around in the basket. “What else you got in here?” He lifted out a bottle and squinted at it. “Says here this is ‘fresh pomegranate and lemon verbena scent revive body wash with exfoliating crystals’.”
I knew I was busted. But I’d go down fighting. “Yeah, I like to be…revived.”
His eyes narrowed and he sighed. “You don’t even know what exfoliating crystals are.”
“You don’t either.”
“That’s beside the point.” His face cleared and his jaw dropped. “You’re shopping with that hot chick you’ve had a hard-on for since high school…”
“Her name is Aubree.”
“Whatever. Here I’m busting my ass for your party and you’re out making time.”
“You sound like my put-upon and outraged wife.”
He looked like he was going to sock me in the jaw right there in the market. I tried not to laugh. I truly did, but it slipped out.
His look was grim, his eyes filled with a burning anger.
“I got news for you, Brax. You don’t want me to shop for this party. The minute I even suggested it, you laughed. I don’t know the first thing about food. You do. You’re a freaking genius with food.”
“Don’t butter me up,” he growled.
I talked right over him. “So, since I knew you were being passive-aggressive about the food, I made up an excuse so you wouldn’t roll your eyes and huff and feel put upon.”
“You make me sound like an old hen.”
“Can you say, ‘cluck, cluck’?”
His mouth tightened. “I’m not passive-aggressive.”
“Okay, then you’re just an asshole. I’m not shopping with Aubree. I’m shopping for her aunt.”
“Either way, sounds like Aubree already has the whip out, pussy.”
“Now you’re really being an asshole.”
“Do you want to take this outside? I’ll kick your ass and then you can go home and revive yourself with your freaking exfoliating crystals.”
“That wouldn’t be good for scrapes and bruises,” River Pearl said.
Brax stiffened and turned towards her. “We don’t need your advice, sweet thang.”
“Well, neither of you has any idea what exfoliating crystals are. I mean, you’re guys.”
The absurdity of this conversation wasn’t lost on me, but now I understood why Brax was on edge. And that blonde reason was standing right next to him talking about something only a girl would know about. Um. Scratch that. River Pearl wasn’t a girl. She was a drop-dead gorgeous knockout. The only girl in school besides Aubree and Holy Mary Verity he hadn’t sweet-talked, and that toasted his bagels, but good. Aubree? She was too smart to fall for his charm, and he wasn’t going to go after a girl I wanted. That was the brother code. Holy Mary Verity was so off limits. Preacher father, yeah, not messing with that. But, River Pearl? She was my brother’s wet dream. She was a challenge and the one who got away. She was also a match for my brother. Now that tickled me pink.
“Do you know what they are, Braxton?”
My brother closed his eyes at her sultry voice. She smirked.
<
br /> “No.”
She switched her attention to me. “What are you doing with girly body wash, Booker? I mean, it’s okay to want to be clean and all, but lemon verbena? If you’d like, I can take you both to Bath and Body Works and getcha some really good stuff. Then we can go to see Skylar Bransom at the Blue Coyote spa and have our fingernails and toenails all done up and glamorous. I think pink would be divine for you, Brax. No, hot pink, because you’re so sassy.”
“Ha fucking ha,” Brax said. “I’ll expect you at your place this afternoon to help me.” He looked at me with threat in his eyes.
“I’ll be there.”
Without a word to River Pearl, he very rudely stalked away.
River Pearl watched him like a she-wolf staking her claim on the alpha. She was tough enough to take on the leader of the pack.
“Don’t mind him. He’s a sore loser.”
“He’s something, all right,” she said, leaning slightly to the right, pulling her expensive sunglasses down to the bridge of her nose and watching my brother until he disappeared around the end of the aisle. “Both coming and going.”
I almost swallowed my tongue.
She looked at me innocently. I’ve never seen anyone do that so well. I wondered if she ever looked embarrassed. Hellcat came to mind, no, make that Princess Hellcat. “So, the body wash? You got a girlfriend?”
“No. Um. I’m here with Aubree. She needed a few things for her aunt.”
“Oh, she’s here. Cool, where?” She touched my arm. She was so unaffected by our reputation, both in high school and now out. It was something I always admired about her. “Such good news about her aunt waking up. My mother baked a mac and cheese meatloaf casserole. I was going to bring it by later.”
“Deli.”
“I’ll mosey over there and talk to her. I shouldn’t piss your brother off. I really do need to talk to him, but it’s so much fun.”
She stopped next to me and gave me a quick elbow nudge. “You sure Aubree isn’t…your girlfriend?” She winked at me. “Catch you later, Book.”
I nodded as she left, my heart suddenly tight in my chest. Aubree, my girlfriend? No, don’t even embrace that kind of craziness. Remember, forever kind of girl and I was…I wasn’t the one for her. River Pearl smelled as if she used something in a pink flowered bottle with exfoliating crystals. And she had some crystals of her own, some big, brass ones.
When I came around the end of the aisle to the gourmet section of the market, Langston was there. I stopped short. He was bent over looking at the bilini, thin, wheat-like wafers that were often eaten with caviar.
“Aren’t you in the wrong aisle, white trash?” he sneered.
I ignored him. Found the caviar and picked up two tins. It would be fun to see if Aubree liked it. I knew I sure did. When I was wooed by a publishing house shortly after my first book came out and went viral, I had it with a meal and asked what it was. After that, I made sure I got educated about fish eggs.
“Are you done, or are you having problems reading the package?” I asked just to see what would happen.
He swung at me and I ducked and came around behind him and put my sneaker to his ass, giving him a shove. He stumbled forward and right into the shelving for the caviar. The shelves came down in a crashing rumble.
“What’s going on here, boys?”
My head snapped around to the sheriff. He was eyeing Langston sprawled out in the aisle with about a thousand bucks of caviar scattered around him.
I smiled lazily. “He tripped.”
Langston looked at me, his mouth tight and mean, retribution in his eyes. “Yeah, sheriff. I tripped.”
I smirked at him and broadcast back, bring it.
Langston got up as one of the store employees started to right the shelves. He grabbed a can of the good stuff and a package of bilini. Probably been sent to the store as an errand boy for his father. Because Langston had no taste.
He backed up as the sheriff eyed us both.
“See you around, Outlaw.” There was nothing but threat in his voice.
Not if I saw him first.
After he was gone, the sheriff came up to me. “Watch out where you taunt him, son. This is a place of business.”
I met his gaze. The sheriff was an okay guy, but authority, like Langston, didn’t really scare me. I’ve talked myself out of plenty of tickets. “He’s a buffoon.”
“Maybe so, but a dangerous one.”
“Thanks, Sheriff for the advice. You know how bullies are. They push until something snaps.”
“Trouncing him isn’t the answer.”
“I’m not interested in fighting. Langston is the one carrying the grudge.”
“Hmm. Watch your step. He’s got a powerful daddy.”
I nodded and headed back to find Aubree.
#
When I got home, Brax was there at my stove, bare-chested and stony-faced. Of the three of us, he was more prone to bouts of moodiness. I think in the movies he would have been one of those smoldering brooders women found so hot. He, Boone and I were tight knit. There was no doubt about it. But when it came to women, they could tie us all up in knots. I knew from experience. He tended to use us as punching bags to let off steam. Boone and I didn’t mind, especially when we ganged up on him.
“How is the little woman this afternoon?”
He didn’t even turn his head.
“Aw, come on, Brax.”
When I came around the counter, I realized he was wearing a frilly pink apron tied around his waist…and nothing else.
I almost bust a gut.
“You fucking moron!” I could barely get it out.
Brax was laughing so hard. It was amazing he’d kept a straight face all that time.
“I’ll never be able to look at another frilly pink apron again.”
“Yeah, serves you right.”
“You going to let River Pearl trounce you like that?” I couldn’t help poking the bear.
“That’s girl’s a bona fide ball-buster. I’m not touching that.”
“Okay. Could you get dressed, now?”
“Hey, guys, what’s up?”
Boone came around the bar and stopped short. He looked at me then at Braxton. He walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer. “I’m not asking.” He shook his head and went out to start the grill.
“That was unexpected.”
We burst out laughing again and Braxton put his pants on. “By the way, here are your fucking cookies. I hope you choke on them. I want the plasticware back.”
An hour later people started to arrive. Most of them we’d met through the bar. Some out-of-towners, others who had moved to the town in just the last few months. There was only one person I was waiting for. Finally I saw her come into the foyer along with three other people.
She walked up to me, face all serious, but her eyes were sparkling. “You better have my boudin or I’m walking.”
“Yeah, yeah, I made the boudin. No, thanks to Booker,” Brax groused. Aubree smiled at him.
“Well, that’s a good thing, because your gumbo was the best I ever tasted.”
“Yeah, yeah.” He sniffed. “Fresh pomegranate and lemon verbena scent revive body wash with exfoliating crystals.”
She looked quizzically at me, then back at Braxton. “That’s right.”
“Thought so.
He gave me a knowing look and walked away. “Don’t listen to him.”
“How did he know that?”
“He was at the market today, giving me a hard time.”
“Oh, okay. I was about to be impressed.”
There was a commotion at the front door and when I looked over a smile split my face. “Remy!” I strode over and gave him a fist bump.
“Where you at, Book?”
Aubree had followed me over. “Aubree, this is my cousin, Remy Beaupre.”
“Chere,” he nodded.
“He’s my good-for-nothing Cajun cousin on my Ma’s side of the family. Where are
Dempsey and Creed?”
“Right behind ‘im, Coonass.”
I laughed and greeted them. When we were growing up there was nothing I enjoyed more than heading over to their house to enjoy the good times and there were a lot of them. We were all about the same age. Remy was the oldest at twenty-three with Dempsey the middle child twenty-two and Creed was twenty-one bringing up the rear. “You going to play and sing for us tonight.”
“I think that’s the plan. Brax wanted a real Cajun back-up.”
“Ha! It’s good to see you. Boone’s outside and I think Brax is in the kitchen.” The three of them walked off and I heard Boone shout from the deck.
“Let’s go get some food.” She looked at me, then at my cousins as they walked away.
“There are definitely gorgeous genes in your family and their accents. Oh, my.”
“Are you trying to make me jealous again?”
“Ummm.no…but, geez Booker, I’m not dead. Three strapping men like that—all of them can whisper French nothings. Well, it does make a girl pause.” She rubbed her hands together. “Boudin.”
“Okay, we’ll get that first, but you have to have some of the frog legs we caught.”
“Okay, wow, everything smells heavenly.” She grabbed a plate on the table in the dining room and started to load it up.
“How’s your aunt?”
“Oh, the sheriff is with her tonight.”
“Really.”
“Yes, he asked her out.” She leaned close and I decided then and there that I loved the smell of pomegranate and lemon verbena, whatever the hell they were. “She told me not to worry about her tonight,” she whispered.
“Way to go, Aunt Lottie.”
“I know.”
“Wait a second. All night?”
She gave me a soft look and then spied the boudin, and I lost her again…to a sausage. Damn. She followed me into the living room, then out back to the benches wrapping the deck. I noticed her glance towards the stack of pillows that were now off to the side to accommodate more people.
“It’s beautiful out tonight,” she said and settled on one of the seats. I sat down next to her.
“It’s gorgeous,” I said, not able to take my eyes off her.
She blushed and forked up a bite from her plate. She closed her eyes in bliss. It was a pleasure to watch her eat. “Shut up! I’ve never tasted boudin like this. Your brother is very talented.”
