Ain't Misbehaving (9781455523801)

by Cannon, Molly

  It wasn’t that he objected to meaningful relationships for other people, but in his experience the man-woman thing was a lot of work without much reward. His parents had been the perfect example. His mother had struggled until the day his dad died to make him happy, and she’d never succeeded.

  And look at Marla Jean. She’d said “I do until death” and all that crap. But what had it gotten her? She’d given her heart to Bradley Bandy, and he’d stomped on it and handed it back to her six years later.

  He’d meant what he said about men being dogs. Most wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of a newly divorced woman. She’d be ripe for the taking, susceptible to their smooth talk and flattery. She might even convince herself that she was the one doing the seducing.

  Shit, he should just steer clear and let her make her own mistakes, but old habits die hard.

  Jake took another pull on his beer and watched Marla Jean move away from the window. And he kept right on watching until the room went dark. He ignored the tug in his gut that urged him to get up and take a quick stroll across the street. He tamped down the temptation to go knock on her door and ask how the rest of her day had been. When it came to Marla Jean, it was time to get a grip.

  His feet hit the wooden planks of the porch floor with a thump. Standing up, he pulled his cell phone from his jeans pocket and dialed a number. “Hey, Genna. It’s Jake. You got any plans for Friday night?”

  Chapter Seven

  The moon floated, pearl white in the night sky, smiling down on the Everson football field. Purple and gold streamers of crepe paper were wrapped around every available pole and railing, giving the old stadium a festive feel. Excitement for the big game built as the marching band warmed up at one end of the stands, the erratic sound of bleating horns and beating drums punctuating the air. A brisk autumn breeze whipped through the stands, carrying the smell of popcorn, nacho cheese, and hot dogs along with it. Down on the asphalt track that ran around the field, the Everson cheerleading squad tumbled and jumped around, trying to get the crowd revved up to root the Cougars on to victory.

  Marla Jean tried to get into the spirit of things, too. It had been over a year since she’d been to a game, and it seemed so much like part of her old life that now she didn’t know how to act. For the first time ever, getting ready for the game had become a production. Normally, she would throw on jeans and a long-sleeved T-shirt, pull on her old Everson High School sweatshirt, and add as many layers on top of that as she could to keep warm. But tonight wasn’t that simple. Should she try to look good for Harry? It seemed only right to make a bit of an effort, but she didn’t want to send the wrong signal, so she’d tried on half of her closet to find just the right look. A look that said, “I’m looking mighty fine” without going overboard to impress anyone. Being single was way too complicated.

  She settled for nice jeans and a white lacy blouse. She covered the blouse with a purple sweater to show team spirit. A little lace peeked out at the collar and sleeves, enough to make her feel feminine and a little bit saucy. And the finishing touch—her favorite cowboy boots, the beige ones covered in a winding green vine and fuchsia flower design.

  As she climbed the bleachers looking for a place to sit she wrapped her jacket around herself tighter to ward off the wind. Since Harry would be coaching the team, she’d have to go it alone until after the game. She tried not to feel awkward about that.

  “Go, Cougars,” she responded to the enthusiastic greetings of people she knew, and that was almost everyone. “Go, team,” she agreed cheerily.

  She noticed Bradley almost right away. He occupied his usual place up near the top of the bleachers. Libby was by his side, and the two of them were surrounded by the same group of friends Marla Jean and Bradley had socialized with during their married years. Libby Comstock looked right at home, damn her. In fact, the older woman looked positively vibrant. She was laughing, her cheeks pink from the night air, and as she leaned into Bradley to say something her eyes seemed to adore him. Marla tried to remember if she’d ever looked at Bradley with that kind of adoration.

  This was the first time she’d seen the two of them out together in a public place, and she couldn’t ignore the pang she felt at being displaced. She tried to take a deep breath but it felt as if a giant boulder had lodged in her throat, choking off all the oxygen. Her cheeks blazed, and she stumbled going up the next step. Some mix of embarrassment and humiliation flooded her whole body. But there was a healthy dose of righteous indignation in the mix, too. Marla Jean grabbed onto that feeling and didn’t let go. When Julie Bingham, one of the women from the group, caught her eye and waved, Marla manufactured a smile and waved back. Julie had always been a good friend, but her husband worked with Bradley, so that made things uncomfortable now. The rest of the women acted like they didn’t see her. She straightened to her full height and thought with renewed conviction, Who the hell needs them?

  She turned away, scanning the crowd, anxiously looking for a place to settle. When her brother stood up and gestured to get her attention she could have cried. She’d never been so thankful to see anyone in her life.

  “Hey, Marla Jean, over here,” he shouted.

  Even if she was still a little put out with him, spotting Lincoln was like spotting land after being shipwrecked at sea. With a heavy sigh of relief she readily returned his wave and climbed the bleachers to reach his side. Dinah, Lincoln’s bride of six months, jumped up and pulled her into a hug. “Hey, Marla Jean. I was so happy when Linc said you’d be here tonight.”

  The warm welcome was just what she needed. “Hey Dinah, how was the cruise? I want to hear all about it.”

  Lincoln and Dinah hadn’t had time for a honeymoon when they first got married, so they made up for it by taking a Caribbean cruise on their six-month anniversary. Dinah was the picture of blissed-out contentment. “Come by Sunday, and I’ll bore you to death with all the pictures.”

  Marla laughed. “You make it sound so tempting.”

  “I’ll throw in dinner and Yellow Birds.”

  “Yellow Birds?”

  “Yeah, it’s a new drink we had on the cruise, and Linc bribed the bartender for the recipe. They’ll knock you on your keister.”

  “Now you’re talking.”

  “Come on, sis. Give me a hug.” Lincoln Jones towered over his sister at six-foot-three. He held out his arms, beckoning with both hands until she relented and moved into his embrace.

  As much as his protective nature drove her nuts sometimes, she knew he only wanted what was best for her. He was just going to have to get used to the idea that from now on, they might disagree about exactly what that was. “Welcome home, Lincoln.”

  He smiled and gave her another squeeze. “That’s more like it. We saved you a seat.” They scooted down a bit, and she sat by Dinah.

  “So,” Dinah said conspiratorially, “I hear you’re meeting Coach Beal after the game.”

  Marla Jean shrugged. “He asked, and I thought it was time for me to start getting out some.”

  “I couldn’t agree more.” A burst of loud laughter traveled down from the section where Bradley and Libby and all of her old friends were seated. Dinah glanced up behind her and then turned back to Marla Jean. Placing a comforting hand on her arm she asked, “Are you okay with that?”

  “I’ll admit I freaked out a little when I first saw them. But I’m fine now. Really.” Marla smiled and patted her sister-in-law’s hand. “And I’m here to have fun.”

  The teams ran out onto the field and everyone stood up, clapping and cheering for the home team. The band broke into the school fight song, and Marla got caught up singing loudly to the familiar battle cry.

  Everyone had just settled back into their seats when Jake came climbing up the aisle toward them. He had his hand on the waist of the buxom blonde walking just ahead of him. Genna Stanley. Just the sight of her made Marla Jean flash back to high school days when she’d been a lowly sophomore band nerd and Genna had been a popular senior.
Head cheerleader, homecoming queen, and voted most likely to go to Hollywood and make it big.

  These days Genna’s hair was blonder, her boobs were bigger, and the closest she’d been to Hollywood was a tour of Universal Studios. Still, to be fair, Genna was an attractive woman, and from what Marla had heard, lots of “fun.” Okay. That was catty. But she could understand why a man like Jake might go out with her. She also figured if Genna crawled into Donny Joe Ledbetter’s truck, Jake wouldn’t bother pulling her out. Everyone knew that Genna could handle herself.

  The two of them squeezed into the row just ahead them. Jake sat down in front of Marla, turning to greet Lincoln and Dinah as he did. “From the looks of you two, I’m guessing the cruise was a hit.”

  Dinah grabbed Lincoln’s arm and beamed at her husband. “It was wonderful. Lincoln has a real talent for relaxing when you get him away from the job.” They shared an intimate little look that seemed to shut out the rest of the world.

  Marla’s brother was a workaholic—a CPA with his own accounting firm. Dinah had been hired to organize the place and ended up staying. Then she decided organizing Lincoln would be a full time job and married him. Unfortunately, the wedding had fallen in the middle of tax season, so the honeymoon had to wait. But Marla had never seen Linc happier. He’d waited a long time to get married, and she thought Dinah was perfect for him.

  Jake turned to her next. “So, how’s it going, Marla Jean? Are you staying out of trouble?”

  “The night’s young, so I’m not promising anything.” Marla Jean flashed him a breezy smile. He studied her for a minute like he wanted to say something else, but he didn’t.

  Genna’s greeting barely made it to lukewarm on the friendly scale. “Hey, Marla Jean.”

  Marla returned her “hey” with one of her own. Genna didn’t look too happy to see her, though Marla couldn’t imagine why. She saw the woman maybe once a month when she stopped by the water department to pay her bill. Genna was head clerk. Other than that, they didn’t really run in the same circles.

  Jake and Genna turned back to face the football field, but Lincoln kept asking him questions and every time he turned to answer, Jake’s arm would brush against her knees. It was an innocent touch—the barest hint of his jacket sleeve grazing her jeans, but every time she felt like an unruly heifer being poked with a cattle prod. She scooted away the best she could, trying to avoid making contact, but there was no escaping the man. He occupied the space in front of her in the same way he’d been occupying the space in her head lately. Whenever he was anywhere in the vicinity, he tended to intrude on her state of mind. But having palpitations over a casual encounter with his leather jacket showed how long she’d been without any masculine attention. It was pathetic, really. And it wasn’t as if Jake was trying to cop a feel or anything. More’s the pity. She looked up when she heard someone yell her name.

  “Hey, Marla Jean.”

  Harry Beal came running up the stadium steps, and she was alarmed to see that he carried a big, decked-out triple mum with all the ribbons and gee-gaws attached—the kind all the kids wore at homecoming. The problem was it wasn’t homecoming, and she wasn’t a kid.

  “Harry,” she greeted him with a guarded expression. Hoping against hope it wasn’t for her, she tried ignoring the mum. “I didn’t expect to see you until after the game.”

  The football team milled around on the sidelines, and it was only about three minutes until kickoff. She really thought he should be down there with the players.

  “I just wanted to give you this first. I thought it might bring us luck.” He hovered at the edge of the aisle awkwardly.

  Folks sitting around them watched with piqued curiosity, and she understood why. The football coach didn’t usually run up into the stands right before a game carrying a corsage the size of a funeral spray. And once they realized his intended target was Marla Jean Bandy, given the gossip already swirling around her, jaws would be flapping about this for weeks to come.

  Marla finally took pity on the poor guy and stood up. “Oh Harry, you shouldn’t have. It’s really…” she searched for the right word, “impressive.”

  “Do you think so? Mrs. Meany at the Posey Pot helped me pick out all of this stuff.” The purple and gold ribbons whipped around in the breeze, and as he tried to figure out how to go about attaching it to her front side without getting too personal, it jingled and clanged like a bell choir hopped up on uppers. After several fumbling attempts he ended up stabbing his own finger with the long pin. “Ouch. Son of a—” He pulled his hand back and sucked his finger. “Sorry, Marla Jean. I seem to be all thumbs.”

  “Let me help, Harry.” She took one of the pearl-tipped pins and together they finished affixing the thing. It was so heavy, it drooped halfway down her chest, and the ribbons dragged the ground. He looked at her helplessly, so she assured him that it was fine. “Hey, you better get back down to the team, or they’ll have to start without you. Oh, and good luck, Coach. We’ll be up here cheering for you.” She squeezed his arm and smiled.

  “Thanks, Marla Jean. I’ll see you later.” He grinned and bolted back down the stands. The people in the crowd started clapping. Someone yelled, “Way to go, Coach.”

  He turned and gave the crowd a thumbs-up and vaulted over the railing down onto the field. Then she lost sight of him as the team huddled around him for his last-minute instructions.

  She sat down to find Jake watching her. Okay, he’d warned her that Harry had a thing for her. But she figured anybody asking her out must find her reasonably attractive, or they wouldn’t bother. But giving her this big-assed mum felt like some kind of bold declaration of intentions on his part. She’d have to nip it in the bud if that was the case. Like she’d told Jake, she wasn’t looking for anything serious. Harry was a nice man, but if serious was what he had in mind, he was going to be disappointed.

  Maybe she was reading too much into it. Maybe he was just caught up in the excitement of a chance to make the play-offs, and the football mum was just a by-product of all the hoopla surrounding the game. Accompanied by the rustle of ribbons and bells, she sat down.

  Dinah immediately started sifting through the array of ribbons on her chest. “Oh look, this ribbon has Harry’s name written in glitter and this one has yours. That’s so cute.”

  “Cut it out.” Marla very much wanted to act as if the mum didn’t exist, but Dinah was more excited than a dog in a fire hydrant factory.

  “Oh, and you have a little megaphone, and an itty-bitty football, and a teeny-weeny purple helmet, and aw, this ribbon has cougar paw prints all up and down it.” Marla batted her hand away, but Dinah would not be restrained.

  “There’s even a cowbell buried in here.” Dinah clanged the bell and with a laugh sat back in her seat. “Wow, Marla Jean. I think Coach Beal must be smitten.”

  Jake turned and gave her a wide-eyed “told ya” look. She gave him a “shove off” look and said, “I think he’s just excited because the team might make the play-offs. Don’t make too big a deal out of it.”

  Lincoln leaned forward to get a better look and smirked. “Hey sis, now I know what a blooming idiot looks like.”

  Dinah swatted him playfully on the arm. “Stop it, Lincoln. I think it’s sweet.”

  Genna turned around and remarked, “I think that’s bigger than the one I wore when I won Homecoming queen.”

  Marla ignored them all. “Oh look,” she pointed out, “we’re about to kick off.” Thank goodness that turned everyone’s attention from her to the game. Marla clinked and clattered while she tried to arrange the conglomeration hanging on her jacket. She kept stepping on the long streamers and noticed that she was sprinkling glitter onto the back of Jake’s jacket and into his hair.

  The Cougars took the opening kickoff and ran it back for forty yards. They had good field position at the visiting team’s thirty-yard line. It was a terrific start and everyone jumped to their feet whooping and hollering. Forgetting her resolve to avoid touching him,
Marla reached out and brushed the glitter from Jake’s shoulder. He turned his head to look at her questioningly.

  “You’re sparkly,” she said lamely as she finished cleaning him up. She made a final sweep through his dark hair, and her whole hand tingled this time. She rubbed her palm to erase the sensation.

  His dark eyes seemed to turn intense and moody. “I think everyone within a five-mile radius of you is gonna be sparkly before the night’s over.”

  Genna grabbed his arm and whispered something in his ear. He turned back to his date. She tried to concentrate on football and forget about Jake, which turned out to be pretty easy, after all. It was a very exciting game, and by halftime the Cougars led by two touchdowns.

  Lincoln and Jake announced they were making a run to the concession stand and took orders from everyone. Genna and Dinah decided to brave the restroom. The line at halftime for the ladies was usually halfway around the stadium so Marla decided not to risk it. She’d probably get tripped up on her ribbons and fall and break her neck going down the bleachers.

  The marching band filed out onto the playing field in formation. She laughed when they broke into a neutered rendition of “Sexy Back.” The old high school bandleader, Mr. Griffin, would be spinning in his grave.

  People kept stopping to chat with her on their way to the concession stand. She figured most folks wanted a close-up look at the mum. The way this town liked to gossip, she wouldn’t be surprised to hear by morning that Harry Beal hadn’t just given her the mum to beat all mums, but had asked her to marry him and bear his children, to boot.

  “Evening, Marla Jean.” She recognized Bradley’s voice even before she turned to look at him.

  He was wearing his tan corduroy pants and the ragged Everson Cougar sweatshirt he wore to every game since she’d known him. Instead of his usual baseball cap, a jaunty black beret sat atop his blond hair and instead of his usual friendly demeanor, the expression in his blue eyes simmered somewhere between sad and stormy.