“Not me.” Lacey felt hot again, and it wasn’t from the steam wafting from the heaping plate of food. She needed to be careful. If just watching the guy from across the street heated her up like this, what would another close encounter do? And what if he made another comment like yesterday’s? She’d lose all her self-respect if she let him talk to her that way again.
Not that she had much to lose. Once she’d unhitched herself from Trent, she’d realized self-respect was in short supply for her. She’d never done anything important in her life. She was still the same girl she’d always been, too pretty and too precious. The total implosion of her life really hadn’t changed her much; she was just a little less naive and a lot less sure of herself.
“Go ahead,” Pam urged. “Give him one more chance. Just go over there and talk to him. Tell him you want to buy a truck or something.” She slid into the booth, clasped her hands, and leaned forward, obviously caught up in her plan. “Yeah, that’s it. Make him take you for a test drive.”
Lacey scooped up a forkful of eggs. “I don’t have money for a truck.”
“He doesn’t know that. He probably thinks you’re rich.”
“He thinks I’m living off the money my husband made from your farm.”
“Well, you were, right? For a while.”
Lacey nodded reluctantly, and Pam’s smile turned sly.
“So like I was saying, you owe him one more chance.” She shifted forward, the vinyl squeaking under her ample backside. “You came all this way to see him. You can’t just leave.”
Lacey almost laughed. Pam didn’t know how true that was. With the Mustang in the shop, no money, and no prospects, she was stuck in Grady anyway. Heck, her car hadn’t even made it to the shop yet. It was still parked in front of Chase’s trailer.
“All right. I’ll talk to him. But if he’s rude again…”
“If he’s rude again, come see me. I’ll set him straight.”
Lacey had to smile at the thought of plump little Pam setting her broad-shouldered brother straight. “I’ll bet you will.”
“Hey, Mom.” A pigtailed tween girl skipped up to the table and slid into the booth, eying Lacey curiously. “Who are you?”
“Manners.” Pam’s voice was low and stern, a don’t-mess-with-Mom voice. The kid had to be the product of that long-ago pregnancy. She had her mother’s dimples and the same thick russet-colored hair.
“Oh.” The kid straightened and put out a small hand. “Hi. I’m Annie. Nice to meet you. I have a cat that lets me dress him up in doll clothes. Do you want to see him?”
“Maybe sometime.” Lacey took the child’s hand and received a surprisingly firm handshake.
“Okay.” Annie turned to her mother. “Can I go to Tracy’s?”
Pam nodded, and the child jumped up from the table and skedaddled, her sneakered feet sliding on the gleaming linoleum. She rounded the corner and dashed through the door to the yard on long, coltish legs that promised there would be one heck of a high school basketball player in Grady’s future.
Pam watched her go. “I’m raising a hooligan.”
Lacey grinned. “She’s adorable.”
“My cat doesn’t think so. Annie’s done with dolls, but that animal takes the brunt of whatever maternal impulse I passed on and ends up dressed in baby clothes all the time. You ought to come up after you eat. I think she crammed the poor thing into a Onesie today.”
Lacey smiled. “Maybe I will.”
She watched Pam head back to the kitchen and felt a stab of envy. Who would have thought Prentiss High’s head cheerleader would end up being jealous of an unwed mother?
But she was. Pam had a real life. Not only did she take care of herself; she took care of Annie too. And Chase, by the sound of it.
But it sounded like she needed some help taking care of her brother. And helping each other—that was what friends were for.
Lacey opened her purse and fished out her wallet, staring down at her dwindling hoard of dollar bills. Pam’s freckled face appeared in the pass-through.
“Don’t you dare pay me,” she said. “We’re friends, right? Just do me that favor and go see my brother.” She waved toward the door. “Hey. Here he comes. Tell him you want to go for a test drive.” She dropped her voice to a stage whisper. “You don’t have to sleep with him or anything. Just show him there’s something to life besides cattle, cars, and sulking about stuff.”
***
Chase swung open the door to the café, setting off the copper cowbell Pam had tied to the door. He tipped off his hat and ran the fingers of one hand through his hair as he scanned the room. The café was empty except for the one person he least wanted to see: Lacey. She glanced up as he walked in, then turned quickly toward the window as if she was embarrassed.
He was sure as hell embarrassed. The harsh words he’d said came back to him, along with the lie about Krystal. They echoed in his ears, clanging louder than the cowbell. He resisted the urge to turn and run as Pam stepped out of the kitchen and a cat-got-the-canary smile spread across her face.
“Chase. Hey.” She gestured toward Lacey like a game show hostess revealing the answer to a million-dollar puzzle. “Look who’s here. It’s like a high school reunion! Come on and sit down.”
She placed a menu on the table across from Lacey and stepped back expectantly. When he didn’t move, her smile was replaced by a stern big-sister stare.
“Come on, Chase. You remember Lacey.”
Did he ever. Despite his determination to push her away for good, he’d reverted back to his high school self since she’d arrived in Grady, thinking about her every minute of the night, every hour of the day. He was like a hormone-addled adolescent again, unable to stop the fantasies flickering behind his eyelids.
He remembered her topping the cheerleader’s pyramid in her short skirt. Puzzling over a math problem with her perfectly arched brows. Best of all, he remembered the warmth of her lips when he’d finally, finally kissed her.
Unfortunately, that memory was always accompanied by a recollection of the day after, like cheap wine followed by a headache. He’d never forget the stab of disbelief when he’d seen her picture in the paper, smiling proudly beside Trent Bradford in the announcement of her engagement.
He hadn’t been one of the school’s big winners. He hadn’t been a football star or a singing sensation. But he’d always gotten what he’d gone after. Lacey was his first and worst failure—his welcome to the real world.
“Come on, Chase,” Pam urged. “Have a seat. I’ll make you something to eat.”
“No thanks.” He turned his hat in his hands, first clockwise, then counter-clockwise, but neither succeeded in making the world pause on its axis long enough for him to dodge out the door. “I can’t stay. I just came to see you about Galt.”
“Galt.”
He nodded and swallowed, his tongue thick in his mouth. “I’m worried he’s not eating right.”
“Well, feed him then.”
“It’s not that easy.” He leaned one hip against the built-in planter that divided the entryway from the booths in an effort to look casual.
“Sure it is. I’ll box up some meatloaf, and you can take it to him.”
“I thought maybe you’d take it.”
Pam frowned—not the reaction he’d hoped for. Maybe flattery would help.
“You’re the one who takes care of people. You could check on him once in a while, bring him something nutritious for dinner or something.”
“Tell you what. I’ll make him a meal a couple times a week, and you can take it to him.”
“Ah, no. I’d rather not.”
“Chase, you pass his place on the way home every day. There’s no point in me going out there.”
“He and I aren’t getting along too well.”
“Wow. News flash.” Pam turned to Lacey. “Chase bought half of Galt’s land after the guy’s son died. Galt hates him.” She turned back to Chase. “Seems to me this is the perfect
chance to mend fences.”
“There’s nothing wrong with my fences. I’m just surprised Galt hasn’t strung razor wire on his,” Chase said.
“I know he’s difficult, but it’s a chance for you to be the bigger man.”
“I don’t want to be bigger.”
It was true. He already felt huge and awkward standing in the entryway. Lacey was making like Martha Stewart with the flatware, trying to line it up in a perfect row, but her gaze flicked up to his face once in a while when she thought he wasn’t looking. Of course, he was looking. That’s what was so awkward.
He needed to get Galt taken care of and get out. He couldn’t understand why Pam was being so difficult. Normally she was Grady’s angel, a willing helper to the sick, the lame, and the needy.
“Dammit, Pam, I don’t want to make friends with the guy. I just want to make sure he doesn’t die over there.”
“Then go see him.”
“No.”
“Okay. Then help Lacey.”
“What?” He looked around the diner as if he didn’t know who she was talking about. “I—Lacey and I already talked.”
“I know you did. And I know you were a total jerk.” Pam set her fists on her hips, and Chase could swear he felt a wind whipping up. His sister was the nicest person he knew, but her anger was not pretty.
“Look, Chase, no man is an island. Not in a town this size. Take your pick: Fletcher or Lacey. You’ve got to help somebody sometime or you’ll wither up and die.”
When he didn’t respond, she whisked the menu off Lacey’s table and nodded toward the car lot. “I’ll do my job, you do yours. I’ll take dinner to Galt. You take Lacey out to test drive that Dodge. She’s shopping for a truck.” She nodded sharply at Lacey. “Right?”
Lacey didn’t look very enthusiastic, and Chase didn’t blame her—but nobody crossed Pam when she got like this. “Um, yeah. Right.”
Pam spun on her heel, heading for the diner kitchen without a backward glance.
Lacey looked up at Chase, then back down at her silverware. “We don’t have to,” she said.
“Yeah, we do.” Chase stuck his hat on his head and straightened. “Trust me, it’s a lot easier to just do what she says. And if I have to pick between you and Galt, I’ll take you.”
“Gee,” Lacey said. “Thanks.”
***
Krystal gave Chase a wink as he stepped into the trailer. He offered a tight smile, wondering when she’d get the message and give up trying to seduce him. No matter how gruff and standoffish his behavior, she seemed to assume it was only a matter of time before he’d succumb to her charms and she’d own him—body, soul, and dealership.
Most men wouldn’t have minded. The girl was gorgeous, and anyone with a testosterone quotient higher than their IQ would have just hauled her off to bed. But he’d learned his lesson with Lacey. Sex without strings—or even kisses without commitment—only led to heartache.
Besides, he needed Krystal. She manned the lot with a combination of bold-faced lies and blatant seduction that seemed to short men’s circuits and rewire them to spend money on stuff they didn’t need. Just the day before she’d gotten a hundred bucks for a rusty harrow he’d hauled to the lot just to clear up space in the barn. God knew what she’d told somebody about it.
Her eyes narrowed when Lacey followed him inside. She practically shoved Chase aside to enter into her receptionist duties with a gusto he’d never seen before.
“How can we help you?” she asked.
Anyone else would have thought she was smiling, but Chase knew better. She was baring her teeth.
“Chase is taking care of it.” Lacey smiled back, and Chase was stunned by the difference in the two women. He always felt like Krystal practiced her poses and pouts in the mirror before trying them on him, but Lacey smiled with her whole being. The trailer, the town, the colored pennants fluttering from the trailer’s eaves, all faded like a black-and-white movie background behind a Technicolor star. The woman lit up the room.
“I’m going to test drive a Dodge, I guess.”
Chase pictured himself in the pickup with Lacey a mere foot away on the slippery vinyl bench seat. His blood hummed in his veins at the thought of getting that close to her again, but Krystal rose and grabbed the keys from the corkboard behind the counter and stuffed them in her pocket.
“I’ll take you.”
Lacey smiled sweetly. “Thanks, but if you don’t mind, I wanted Chase to do it.”
Krystal glowered. She might not have Lacey’s firepower when she smiled, but her scowl practically dimmed the lights.
“I figure he probably knows more about engines and stuff like that,” Lacey said.
“Good point.” Chase held out his hand for the keys. “The truck has a lot of four-wheeling features, Krystal. Remember, I was going to explain those to you, but you didn’t have time?”
He stifled a smile. Krystal had evaded his attempts at on-the-job training over and over, changing the subject every time he tried to talk about trucks or farm machinery. It was almost like she didn’t want to know any actual facts so she could lie her little heart out to the customers and fake innocence later on.
She dangled the keys at arm’s length, forcing him to step up and grab them, then held onto them a moment too long, meeting his eyes with an obvious threat glinting in her own. He tugged them away, and she plopped down behind the counter and crossed her legs, pulling out the latest issue of People.
“I’ll be waiting.”
That was all she’d be doing, he knew. She never did a lick of work when he wasn’t around.
Chapter 10
Chase’s sales banter dried up like usual as he and Lacey approached the Dodge. He should be pointing out the truck’s virtues—the add-on cast steel bumpers and fog lights, the almost-new Goodyear tires—but he had to stifle the urge to tell her all its faults instead. It had an awful lot of miles on it, and it pulled to the right a little when you braked.
He was the worst salesman in the world. He hated to see someone buy something that wasn’t right for them. But this was a nice truck. Reliable, as far as he could tell, and the body was in great shape.
The body.
He resisted the urge to help Lacey hike herself into the driver’s seat and handed her the keys, watching her brows arch in concentration as she fitted them in the ignition and scanned the controls, biting her lower lip. It was all he could do not to lean over and nibble it himself. He’d pictured Lacey naked so many times, he felt like he could see through her clothes—although he had no way of knowing if his vision of her body was accurate.
Maybe that was the problem. Maybe he just needed to confirm the picture in his mind. He needed resolution. Closure.
Sex.
Hell, he needed to get a grip on his runaway imagination. That’s what he needed. Nothing was going to happen between them. Nothing. This was business. Strictly business.
“It’s an older model,” he said. “A ’99, but cherry.”
Cherry. Shit. Why did everything he say around Lacey turn sexual? Hell, everything he thought around her turned sexual. He needed to get ahold of himself.
Either that, or he needed to get ahold of Lacey.
She cranked the key and pressed the accelerator to the floor, nodding in appreciation of the pickup’s throaty roar. “What kind of engine is it?”
“V-6.” He cleared his throat. “You going to trade in that Mustang? ’Cause I gotta tell you, I can’t give you much for a car that doesn’t run. You’d be better off getting it fixed first.” He swallowed again, wishing he could get his voice to cooperate. Tension was making it sound strangled and weirdly high-pitched, and judging from Lacey’s smile, she’d noticed.
***
“She’s definitely made for rocky terrain,” Chase blurted out. Lacey couldn’t figure out who he was talking about at first. Certainly not her. She was made for smooth sailing. Things had been a little choppy lately, though, and she was hoping to find a harbor in
Grady. But maybe not.
“The previous owner really knew what he was doing when it came to four-wheeling,” he continued.
Oh. The truck. “I’m not really into that stuff. What I wanted to ask was…”
“He put on a Skyjacker suspension and Magnaflow exhaust. Super Swamper tires—top-of-the-line. He switched out the transmission, too.”
Couldn’t he tell she didn’t care? She’d told him she wasn’t buying the truck.
“And he took good care of it.” He pointed to a sticker on the windshield. “You can see the last oil change was only a thousand miles ago. Brakes are almost new, and you’ll notice when you look under the hood that he gave this baby a lot of tender loving care.”
Maybe she should ask him who had owned the truck and track that guy down instead. She could use some TLC herself, and it was becoming painfully obvious she wasn’t going to get it from Chase.
“Baby’s got a Duratec power train. Tons of towing capacity.”
Lacey nodded, despite the fact that she had no idea what any of this meant and had zero interest in buying the truck, even if she could.
“Chase, listen. I really need to talk to you.”
“What’s unusual is the power. The acceleration feels like a sports car on the highway, but what you really need that kind of torque for is mud. Between those tires and the extra horsepower, you should be able to drive this baby through quicksand. It’ll handle just about anything.”
Dang. Maybe business was a little slow. Chase seemed awfully anxious to make a sale. Either that, or he was avoiding a real conversation on purpose.
“Chase, I don’t want to buy a truck.”
“Then why are we going for a test drive?”
The minute he asked the question, he wanted to take it back. The answer was obvious: She wanted to be alone with him. Probably just to talk, but maybe…
Maybe something more.
But nothing was liable to happen if he made her say it out loud.
“Never mind.” He faked absorption in the process of fastening his seat belt. “I don’t need to know.”
“Yeah, you do. We’re going for a test drive because your sister wants us to talk. She’s worried about you. She says all you do is sulk about stuff.”
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