“Oh, don’t be silly. I simply must see for myself that Junior is well.” She edged around Blake and moved to stand beside the bed. She took Junior’s hand in hers, squeezing gently. “Oh, Junior, we’ve all been so worried.”
“Miz Sanders, you’ll need to save your visiting for a different time,” Blake said, his voice flat. “Junior got knocked around pretty good and—”
“Yes, so I heard,” Louisa said, waving a hand. She looked at Marta, all but beaming. “I’m here to help in whatever way I can.”
Marta smiled faintly. “Right now, we don’t need anything, Louisa, but that is kind of you.”
“Oh, don’t be silly. Surely you could use a bite to eat. I’d be happy to sit with him while you two go down to the café for some lunch.”
Blake stood up and closed the distance between them. He reached out and wrapped a hand around Louisa’s upper arm, none too gently herding her to the door. “The nurses brought them food already. He’s not on his deathbed and I doubt Marta needs anybody clucking around her like a mother hen. I’m in the middle of trying to figure out what happened so you will have to come back later.” He stepped out in the hall, and just in case she decided to get ugly, he closed the door behind him.
If he didn’t know the woman as well as he did, Blake wouldn’t have seen the venom in her eyes. She covered it quick, but he saw it nonetheless. “You will not touch me, Blake Mitchell,” she said. The smile never left her face and she never raised her voice. In fact, ice all but dropped from each word.
“Your mistress to servant act might work on some people, but I’m not impressed. Go home, Louisa. Now.”
He turned to go back inside, dismissing her. Louisa didn’t much care for being dismissed, though. “Who do you think you are, speaking to me in such a manner?” she demanded. “You think that badge of yours means you can do this?”
Blake let go of the doorknob and turned back to Louisa. He took his time with his answer, leaning up against the wall, pausing to brush off an invisible speck of lint from his shirt. “I think I’m investigating a hit and run that could have killed a man. That is a crime. And you, I believe, are interfering?” Something mean and ugly stirred inside of him and it showed in the smile he gave her. “Ever spent a couple hours behind bars, Louisa? After all, you are interfering with my investigation.”
She drew back her shoulders and stared down her nose at him. “You wouldn’t dare.”
Blake shoved off the wall and bent down, putting his face level with hers. “You wanna bet?”
Louisa sneered. “I’d have your job before the end of the day.”
“No.” Blake shook his head. “You wouldn’t. You won’t do anything to get in my way, Louisa. If you do, people are going to hear about what you allowed your husband to do to your daughter. Why she left. She wasn’t in some rich boarding school like you’ve been telling everybody. She ran away—because you let him rape her.”
Louisa went white. Then red. Her hand came up and when she slapped him, Blake didn’t bother moving or blocking it. “You’re as sick as Delilah is, telling such ugly lies,” she whispered.
He snorted and asked, “Have you been telling yourself it was a lie for so long that you actually believe it?”
The answer was there, in her eyes, and then it was gone. She didn’t believe her own lies, which meant she knew what she’d allowed to happen. She knew, and she didn’t care, so long as nobody found out. “I can’t lock you up for what you let happen,” Blake said. “Not now, although I would if I could. I can’t lock him up, for the same reason. Too much time has passed. But mark my words, Louisa, you go near her again and the two of you will pay. Maybe I can’t make you pay in the eyes of the law for what you did, for what you let happen, but there are other ways. And I’ll find every damn one of them.”
“You think you can threaten me?” she demanded, her voice low and furious. “You stupid son of a bitch. Nobody threatens me. I’ll have your job, damn you.”
Laughing, Blake said, “No, you won’t. You don’t want to cross me, Miz Sanders.”
Her face went white. She sucked in a breath of air, glanced around as though to make sure nobody was near enough to hear them. “Nobody would believe you. Nobody would dare believe you over me.”
“Come off it, Louisa. You’re not as important as you think you are,” Blake said, shaking his head. “And sure they’d believe me. I work in the sheriff’s office. How easy do you think it would be to prove you never sent Dee off to some fancy school? People hear you lied about the boarding school, it won’t be much of a stretch to have them believing every word you say is a lie. Not everybody is as impressed with you as you would like to think, Louisa. Quite a few of them would be more than happy to believe the worst.” He turned back to the door. “Now you get the hell away from me before I decide to throw your ass in jail, just for the hell of it.”
Bastard, Louisa seethed as she strode towards the elevator and jammed the button for the main level. Arrogant son of a bitch. Does he think he can get away with this?
He couldn’t. Nobody could treat her like this. Nobody. Louisa Monroe Prescott Sanders came from one of the finest families in the South. The Monroes had lived in this part of Tennessee since the early part of the 1800s. At twenty, she had accepted the proposal from Douglass Prescott, marrying into a family so important, they had a town named after them.
And that bastard thought he could treat her like that…all because her spoiled bitch of a daughter came back to town. Twitching her ass, turning her nose up at her family responsibilities—damn Delilah. The girl had always been far too much trouble.
This matter wasn’t over, Louisa told herself. For now, she was going to keep quiet, but it wasn’t over.
Nobody threatened her and got away with it.
Nobody.
“You look like hell.”
After less than four hours of sleep and fourteen hours on his feet, Blake was surprised he didn’t look worse than hell. Deedee—no, she didn’t want to be called that anymore. If he hadn’t understood the need to separate herself from the helpless girl she’d been, Blake wouldn’t care how many times she corrected him.
But Del did need it. So Del was what he’d call her. He met her eyes over the gleaming white tiles that lined the hallway outside the ICU at County and smiled. “You look beautiful,” he murmured.
And she did. She snorted and Blake pushed his weary body out of the chair, approaching her carefully, the same way he would a wild animal. A faint smile curved her lips as she watched him and she said softly, “I’m not going to run away screaming, Blake.”
He smiled back as he reached out and pushed a stray strand of hair back from her face. “I didn’t think you would.” Well, he’d been pretty sure she wouldn’t. He didn’t say that though.
She turned her face into his hand and that simple gesture wrapped a fist around his heart. Then she closed the distance between them and leaned against him, for a just a minute, resting her forehead against his chest. Unsure of what to do, but desperate to touch her, Blake cupped a hand around the back of her neck and dipped his head to kiss the top of her head.
She turned her face into him and Blake could have sworn she was smelling him. If he hadn’t been thinking about burying his face in her neck to do the same thing, it might have been a little embarrassing. Instead, Blake felt some nameless, sappy emotion roll through him and he realized he felt more whole now than he’d felt in his entire adult life.
The last time he’d felt complete like this had been those few brief days they’d had together before the summer she disappeared from his life.
“You think awful loud,” Del murmured. She nuzzled the front of his shirt and then stepped back, tucking her hands into her back pockets as she turned away. “I heard about Beaumont Junior. Is he going to be okay?”
Blake sighed and reached up a hand, running it along the smooth surface of his scalp. Belatedly, he realized he hadn’t put a bandanna on and for some odd reason, he felt self consc
ious. To distract himself, he sat back down and picked up the report he’d been reading. Not that he’d find anything new there. “Should be fine. Going to be a while before he heals up though.” He forced a smile. “Hope you don’t need a lawyer any time soon. Junior’s the only one I trust.”
He glanced up at her and saw a thoughtful look on her face. “What is it?”
Del shook her head. “Nothing that can’t wait, I imagine. I was supposed to go by Junior’s and talk to him. Don’t know what it was about. Manda gave me the message and I didn’t get in touch with him yesterday.”
She smiled at him. He felt a flush stain his cheeks red as she sauntered up to him and passed her hand, quick and light, over his head. “Damn, Blake. I never would have thought the cue ball look could be so sexy.”
A grown man shouldn’t blush as easy as that, Blake thought. He gave her a dirty look and focused on his report but Del apparently was in a talkative mood. “Look at you, blushing like that.”
Grinning up into her soft green eyes, he teased, “Look at you, flirting like that. Smiling, even.”
Del realized with a start that she had been flirting. She fell silent and an uncomfortable tension filled the air. Blake scowled and rubbed a hand over his face. “Del, I’m…”
She glared at him. “Would you stop apologizing so much?”
“I made you uncomfortable.” And judging by the expression on his face, he wanted to kick himself.
Sighing, Del sat down beside him. Part of her wanted to press her body to his and just hold him. He looked exhausted and pissed off. She wasn’t ready to touch him again just yet. The simple act of sitting there, feeling the warmth of his body so close to hers, the muscled line of his leg pressed snug against hers, was enough to have her internal radar shrieking out an alarm. “You didn’t make me uncomfortable, Blake. Not really.” She slid him a grin and added, “I guess I surprised myself. I didn’t think I even remembered how to flirt.”
For a minute, she thought he was going to remain all somber and serious. Damn it, she sucked at this. But then, he smiled, his eyes crinkling up at the corners as a grin lit his face.
“Feel free to practice on me as often as you want.”
She bumped her shoulder against his. “I’ll keep that in mind.” Then she glanced at the clock. It was nearly five. “Are you going to be able to attend the reunion or does duty continue to call?”
“Shit.” Leaning back, Blake closed his eyes.
“You forgot.”
“I forgot.”
With a shrug, she said, “If you don’t want to go, it’s not like people wouldn’t understand.”
“I do want to go.” Then his eyes opened and he pinned her with a direct stare. “You’re going, right?”
Del rolled her eyes. “If I don’t, Manda will never forgive me.”
“Then I want to go.” He reached out his hand and Del laid her palm in his, linking their fingers. “Will you dance with me?”
She cocked a brow. “Now?” She glanced up and down the hallway, at the quiet nurses sitting at the nursing station outside the ICU and the doctors and hospital staff that carried on conversations in hushed voices. “The nurses probably wouldn’t like it.”
Blake grinned. The sight of that grin, his teeth flashing white against his deeply tanned skin, made her heart skip a beat or three. “I meant tonight, goofy.”
Goofy… She squeezed his hand and murmured, “Yeah. I’d like that.” She hadn’t danced in years. Shoot, she hadn’t wanted to dance in years and she hadn’t wanted to flirt in years. She hadn’t joked in years. Impulsively, she leaned in and kissed him on his smiling mouth. “I’m glad I came back, Blake.”
She would have pulled away just as quick, but he reached up with his free hand, cupping her face. He kept his touch light, so light and gentle she could have pulled away if she wanted, but she felt as though she’d been frozen in place. She held still as he leaned in and pressed his mouth to hers. It wasn’t quick and light. It was slow, it was thorough and it was devastating. He traced the contour of her lips with his tongue, sucked her lower lip into his mouth. When he would have pulled away, she curled a hand into his shirtfront and held him close as she opened her mouth for him.
He groaned against her lips and then slanted his mouth across hers, deepening the kiss. He pushed his tongue into her mouth and Del bit him, quick and light, before sucking on him, pulling him deeper. Damn, the way he tasted…it was addictive. It was the burn of whiskey, the silken smoothness of good vodka and as sweet as sin.
It was the kind of taste a woman could come to crave. Del had fought long and hard to work past craving anything but this was a sweet temptation that she didn’t want to resist. Slowly, unnerved by the strength of her need, she pulled back.
Lifting her lashes, she stared at him. His lids drooped low over his eyes as he rubbed his thumb across her lower lip. “I’m glad you came back, too, baby.”
Chapter Seven
“I can’t wear this,” Del muttered, staring at her reflection and panicking. She didn’t own too many dresses. She had bought the plain black dress for job interviews back when she'd graduated and it was the closest thing to formal she owned.
It was also as ugly as hell.
She grabbed her hair into a loose ponytail, pulling it up off her neck and hoping that would help. Even worse, now people could see the shoulders of the dress. Maybe a necklace—
No. That wouldn’t help either.
“Oh, hell.” She walked over to the bed and flopped face down on it with a groan.
“What’s wrong?”
Lifting her head, Del stared at Manda through her hair. “Everything.”
She rolled off the bed and went to stand in front of the mirror again, groaning at her reflection.
Manda bit her lip to keep from smiling. “Now come on, sweetie. Not everything is wrong.” She studied the dress and then said, “That dress is seriously wrong. But not everything. Hmmmm…” She propped one hand on her hip and studied Del closely. She tapped a fingernail painted a pretty coral against her lips. Then she reached out and grabbed Del’s hand. “Come on.”
“Come where?”
“We’re going to find you something decent to wear.”
Del glanced at Manda’s reed-thin figure and then down at her rather substantial chest. “Honey, I can’t fit into anything you own.”
“Not me. My cousin Sarah bought the Boutique on the Square when Evvie died last year. She doesn’t close until six.”
“It’s twenty ‘til six.”
Manda waved a hand. “I’ll call her on the way. She owes me big time, anyway. She can either do this…or baby-sit. Believe me, she’d rather do this.”
Del continued to drag her heels. “I don’t know, Manda…” Even as much as she hated the way she looked in this ugly dress, Del didn’t know if she was ready to try wearing something that wasn’t plain, utilarian, just plain ugly or all three.
The reunion dinner wasn’t exactly a formal affair, but dressing up for anything just wasn’t her. Trying to look nice wasn’t her.
At least not anymore. She remembered the girl she’d been, closets full of expensive, pretty clothes, and boxes upon boxes of shoes. She didn’t miss that girl at all. But as she thought about all of the clothes she used to wear, she thought of the dances she’d been to with Blake and she remembered the look on his face when he’d seen her the night he picked her up for their first formal.
It had been for a dinner dance at the country club and she’d gone into Nashville to buy her dress. She’d loved that dress. It had been nearly the same green as her eyes with skinny, sparkling straps covered with rhinestones. It was cut slim and if it hadn’t been for the slit on the side on either knee, walking would have been a chore.
She’d looked gorgeous. Del hadn’t been a vain girl—she had loved fun, pretty clothes, loved all the fussy, female things that came with being a girl, but she hadn’t really been vain. Confident, maybe. Thinking back to that night, she knew tha
t she’d looked good—and Blake had thought so, too.
Grimly, she looked down at the black shapeless thing she now wore. Then she gave Manda a hard smile. “Come on. Let’s go.”
Standing by the bar, a beer in one hand and the other jammed deep into his pocket, Blake wondered if maybe he shouldn’t just go on home. He was so tired he ached with it and his eyes were gritty with fatigue.
It had been a shitty day. Junior was still holding his own although the doctors were keeping him sedated to keep him from feeling the pain from his numerous injuries.
So far, no witnesses had stepped up and the only real evidence they had was some paint on the bumper of Junior’s SUV. Now if Blake could just go and check out every black car in the county, he might be able to find who’d run Junior off the road.
“You’re not really here tonight, are you, buddy?”
He looked up at Vance and forced a smile. “Just tired. One hell of a day.”
Vance nodded. “Yeah, I heard you were there with Junior last night. Hope the old guy is going to be okay. You remember back when…” Vance started rambling about one of the many times the two of them had gotten into trouble their senior year and Blake just tuned him out, thinking, again about Del.
“Damn, there you go again.”
Vance’s voice, louder this time, intruded on Blake’s introspective thoughts and Blake winced. “Sorry, man. My mind is just wandering.”
“Yeah…I noticed…whoa.”
Blake watched as Vance’s jaw dropped and his eyes went wide. He was staring off over Blake’s shoulder and curious, Blake glanced back, following Vance’s line of sight.
His beer bottle fell from numb hands as he turned to stare at Del. Or at least, he was pretty damn sure it was Del. Her hair, still dark, was scooped up off of her neck and clipped to her head in one of those tousled styles that made a guy think just how easy it would be to send all those gleaming locks tumbling to her shoulders. Her naked shoulders. She was wearing a pale green dress, a dress that Blake knew would match her eyes perfectly. It was off the shoulder, with long sleeves that went all the way to her wrists. The dress skimmed her curves closely and Blake felt his mouth go dry as he stared at those curves with hungry eyes. The skirt fell in soft folds to just above her knee. And her pretty little feet were stuck into a pair of strappy, sparkly heels that did amazing things for her already amazing legs.
Beautiful Girl Page 8
