by Marina Adair
“Shame on you, Brett Gentry McGraw,” Hattie scolded from the doorway. Dressed in a silver track suit, she held a covered dish in one hand and a wooden spoon in the other. Beside her, all in church wear and enough condemnation they looked ready to spit—or shoot—was her backup. And pulling up the rear, in sweats and department-issued attitude, was one of Sugar’s finest.
“Even with all you put me through as a boy, bless your heart, I never once spanked you. But after seeing how you treated that girl, in Letty’s house, I reckon it’s time to say, ‘Bend over.’” Hattie raised her spoon and smacked Brett in the chest.
“How I treated her?” Not wanting to lose an eye, Brett grabbed the spoon. “You ladies know as well as I do that the only reason someone talked was that this feud of yours gave them permission to.” Brett tried not to sound angry, but he was.
The folks of Sugar protected their own, and his grandma and her friends had gone to great lengths to make sure Joie was never seen as belonging. He was also angry at himself for being so worried about pleasing everyone else that he let down the one person who mattered.
“A feud, if you remember, you promised would cease.”
“And you promised to keep her busy. Not charm your way into her sheets,” Dottie countered, shaking her head. “Which is why Darleen talked to that reporter.”
“Darleen?” He didn’t know why he sounded so surprised. She had been trying to tie him down since that night he’d run into her after he’d scored a fifty-nine in Atlanta.
“Bill already let her go from her position at the bank, which is a shame, with her being a single mom,” Dottie added.
“And if you decide to press charges for divulging personal information,” Jackson finally spoke, “then it would be my place to take a report, which is why I am here at seven-fifteen on a Sunday morning. My only day off, I might add.”
“But know this,” Hattie said. “If you do, then I will be forced to make a separate report citing you for thinking with the man downstairs. And I’m not talking about the devil!” Hattie poked him in the chest with one pudgy finger. “Not that I’d want Darleen for a daughter-in-law, that woman is nuttier than a pecan factory. But she’s desperate for a husband and has a child in the house looking for a daddy. She’s been telling folks for years how she was going to land you, and you never gave her a reason to doubt it, until you started parading Letty’s girl around town.” She shook her head. “I raised you better than that.”
“At least the world doesn’t think her services equate to a half a million.” The voice was so small, so full of hurt and confusion, that Brett felt his chest tighten to the point of pain.
He turned around and there, still in her bathrobe and bare feet, holding a tray of sweet tea and breakfast muffins, was Joie.
On one side of her, holding a half-dozen magazines, was one very pissed-off mechanic. On the other, holding what used to be a very expensive golf glove in his teeth, was a very pissed-off pooch.
His chest hollowed out as he saw the pain wash over her face.
“Joie.” Brett took a step forward and Boo lunged, fangs exposed.
“I was going to get in the shower when Boo had to go out. Then I realized that I should bring out some cold beverages for your family, you know, show them that I really want to make amends, make this work. But Spenser showed up at the back door with these magazines. So I came in here to show them to you and heard you all talking. I guess the joke’s on me, huh?”
“No. No joke,” Brett said. “I know what it sounds like, but the God’s honest truth is, I wanted to spend time with you. Let you see who I really was.”
“I see who you are, Brett. I’m just sorry it took me so long.” She glanced around, as if suddenly realizing just how many people were in the room witnessing this moment. Her face flushed with humiliation. “I think I liked the playboy better. At least he was honest about his intentions.”
“It’s not like that.” He took a step forward, but she backed away, setting down the tray. Her hands were shaking so hard that the tea sloshed over the rim of the pitcher.
“What’s it like then? Please tell me.” She pressed her free hand to her stomach. “Because it sounded like you lied to me about why you wanted the job and then lied to me about the loan.”
Brett exhaled a hard breath. “I knew after Bill turned you down for the loan the only way this feud was going to go away was to agree to be your contractor. That way you had a second set of hands and I could make sure the salon was intact for Letty’s birthday.”
“We wanted to say our proper good-byes to Letty, dear,” Jelly-Lou admitted. “Brett told us to just ask, that you would let us. I’m sorry now that we didn’t.”
Josephina didn’t even blink. “And the loan?”
“I played a round with Bill and tried to get him to reconsider loaning you the money. He said it was just too risky for a bank their size. We struck an agreement, one that was supposed to be confidential.” He slid a look at Dottie, who immediately studied her shoes. “Before I could explain, Bill had called you and half the town knew. Then you were so damn proud of that loan, I didn’t want to take that away from you.”
“So you lied to me instead?” She looked at him as if he’d shattered her world. “You told me you believed in me, that you knew I could do this. I believed you, Brett. I believed you so damn much that I started believing in myself.”
“I did believe in you. I do. I knew you could do this.”
“Really, because letting me walk around deluding myself about how I got the loan doesn’t seem like the action of someone who believes in me.”
“I didn’t tell you because I knew you wouldn’t take the money.”
“That was my right!”
“I know, but I was so scared of losing you. I wanted to make sure you had every reason to stay.”
“You lied to me, Brett. Made a fool of me in front of everyone?” Her face fell as she took in the crowd, and he knew what she was thinking. That he was as big an asshole as her ex. “Is this some kind of game for you people? Make her fall for the hometown hero and then break her heart so she’ll leave? Do you all hate me that much?”
“No. Don’t you get it?” Brett pleaded. “I don’t want you to leave.”
“Well, then, it looks like Brett McGraw gets what he wants again. Because I don’t have anywhere to go. This was my do-over, my chance to make something for myself, and you took that away.” She pulled in a shaky breath at the last word. “At least my parents and Wilson told me to my face what they thought.” And that’s when her face crumbled. “I guess that’s not the neighborly way.”
“We don’t hate you, child,” Hattie said, her voice low and soothing. It was the same tone she’d used when he or one of his brothers tore up a knee or elbow. “We were just trying to see to Letty’s wishes.”
“Grandma,” Brett warned. Joie was a second away from crying and he knew what Hattie was about to tell her would shatter her world.
“This is her business, too, and she has a right to know,” Jelly-Lou said. “Go on and tell her, Hattie.”
“Tell me what?”
Hattie walked over and took Joie’s hand. “A few months before Letty passed, God rest her soul, she talked about changing her will, leaving Fairchild House to the four of us. The will was drawn up, but she passed before she got a chance to sign it.”
“Which meant I got the Fairchild House by default?” Her big blue eyes went wide, her body tensed. Joie was preparing for the blow. He almost looked away, not sure if he could handle what was about to happen.
“I’m sorry, dear,” Jelly-Lou soothed. “We told her to reconsider, but she was adamant, she wanted the house to remain a sanctuary for the adventurous. And you were so busy with your life, Letty was afraid you’d lost your connection to the magic of the place.”
“But what about the letter Letty left me?” Joie whispered.
All the ladies exchanged a look, but it was Jelly-Lou who spoke. “Letty wrote you that letter a long time ago, but we
figured that despite everything that happened, she’d want you to have it.”
Joie didn’t need to speak for the whole room to feel what had just happened. Her heart had cracked in two. She had just lost the only person who saw the magic that was Joie. The only person who made her feel accepted enough, loved for being just who she was.
She studied his face, and the look she gave him pretty much ripped open his heart. “Did you know? About Letty not wanting me here?”
Brett grasped for the words to make this okay. Maybe it was his hesitation, or maybe she just got him better than anyone else ever had, but she took a step back, away from him, from his family, from the town.
“I was just trying to protect you.” It sounded like a bullshit answer, but it was all he had.
Her chin shot up and her big blue eyes darkened with sorrow. “I didn’t need your money, Brett. I just wanted your respect, which you protected me right out of. And I let you do it. How sad is that?”
Panic flooded his chest. He was losing her. He could feel it. She never judged him, never expected him to be anything other than himself, and he had destroyed everything they had built.
Her phone, which she had set next to Kenny last night, started ringing.
Dottie, being the closest, picked it up. “The screen says it’s your mama. You want me to answer it? Explain what’s going on?”
“No. If she’s calling then she already knows.”
Joie took the phone and stared at it, waiting for the ringing to stop. No one spoke. When the phone chimed that she had a voicemail, she put it in her robe pocket.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me, I don’t feel much like serving any kind of cold beverage today, so I’ll ask you to gather your covered dishes and southern manners and get the hell out of my house. Because until I decide otherwise, it’s still mine.”
She turned on her heel and took off up the stairs.
Ears back, tail high, Boo strutted over to Brett, lifted his leg and pissed on Brett’s bare feet. After a quick wiggle of his hips to ensure that every last drop hit the intended target, Boo trotted after his mistress.
* * *
Josephina held it together until she heard the front door shut, the sheets were securely over her head, and Boo was snuggled at her feet. Three boxes of tissues, two pillowcases, and a T-shirt later she had finally pulled it together. Until she heard someone banging around outside and her lights flickered back on and started up again. The sobs lasted straight through breakfast, dinner, and Jimmy Kimmel, stopping only when her tears, combined with a pity-party-sized bag of cheesy pretzels, had congealed into a paste covering her hands, face, and the right side of her hair.
Every time she thought she had her emotions under control, she’d remember standing in the foyer, covered only by silk and humiliation, facing down yet another firing squad in starch. The tears—and pretzel craving—would start back up, deep in her chest, vibrating upward until she sounded like a beached seal.
Josephina wondered how she had managed to get herself in this situation again. How she had once again trusted a man who hadn’t believed in her.
A lifetime of practice.
Boo yapped in the distance. Giving up on sleep, she tossed back the covers, pulled on a pair of cheese-stained yoga pants, and went downstairs. Boo needed to take his morning march around the exterior of the house, re-marking every corner that the mama opossum had marked last night. She needed to eat something that didn’t contain the word cheese.
As she passed the entryway, her cell, which she’d shoved inside Kenny’s bust so she wouldn’t have to hear it ring anymore, was still ringing. Knowing it was either her mother, whom she didn’t want to talk to, or Brett, whom she wasn’t emotionally ready to handle, she ignored it.
Boo stood at the front door, his little body doing the got-to-go wiggle.
“All right,” Joie said. “I’m coming.”
She unlocked the deadbolt, and Boo’s wiggle picked up in intensity. So did his yapping. If she hadn’t been so delirious, she wouldn’t have been so surprised when she opened the door and came face to face with the last person she wanted to see.
By all that was holy, why did she have to confront Brett while wearing cheesy-goo and leftover makeup?
“Joie.” Brett rose to his feet.
He looked exhausted. Miserable. As if he’d slept on her porch all night. And even though his hair was standing up in the back, his face was covered with stubble, and he was wearing the same jeans as yesterday, he looked so damn handsome it hurt.
“Boo, come.” But Boo was already out the door. He fluctuated between exaggerated wagging and growling, as if unsure of how to greet the visitor. Josephina knew exactly how he felt. Which was why she had to shut the door, before she wagged herself right into his arms.
“Please, just give me a minute,” Brett said, his voice pleading, his eyes red from lack of sleep.
“One minute.” Josephina crossed her arms over her chest, hoping to cover up her FAIRIES DO IT BETTER shirt and the hard-to-miss proof that he still turned her on. The man had lied to her, publicly humiliated her, and yet her body still ached to be connected to his. Pathetic.
“Darleen and I used to have a thing, never serious, just sex.”
Humiliation, raw and potent, scorched up her throat at the casual way the words spilled off his tongue. Would he one day talk about what they had shared so casually? Her heart told her no, that the connection between them had been special—magical. Then again, Wilson had claimed to love her.
“But I haven’t been with her in months,” he said, as though that made everything better. “There hasn’t been anyone in a while, except for you.”
“I don’t care about Darleen.”
The tension around Brett’s mouth relaxed a little at her announcement. Not wanting to give him false hope that they could come back from this, Josephina patted her thigh and called for Boo to come inside. He positioned himself stubbornly at Brett’s boots.
Feet together, chest puffed out, Boo snorted his opinion. He didn’t want Brett to leave. Problem was, neither did Josephina, but she knew the longer she held out hope, the longer it would hurt.
“Okay,” Brett paused, as if finally able to breathe. “About the loan—”
“You don’t get it, Brett.” Josephina took a breath of her own, willing herself to make it through this with her pride intact. “The string—it broke. And no amount of talking, or apologizing, or time can fix that,” she explained, her heart breaking with every word. “So, please go. I can’t do this again.”
Josephina called for Boo one last time, and when he didn’t respond, other than to lick Brett’s ankle and whimper, she stepped back inside, and any pretense that she could hold it together crumbled. The clicking of the door was so resolute, so final, that it knocked all the air out of her body.
Afraid she’d collapse, Josephina leaned against the door and let her head fall back, praying for the strength to walk away.
“We’re going to have our talk, Joie.” Brett’s voice came through the door, followed by his boots on the wood porch. They stopped right on the other side and she could practically feel his strength radiating through the wood.
When he spoke again, it was as if he was whispering in her ear. Low and heated and melting her resolve. “You know how I like to take my time when we make love?”
Take your time? The man was the most thorough lover she’d ever had. Even thinking about how diligent he was made her thighs clench. And her heart ache.
“Well, sugar, you haven’t even begun to comprehend how long I’m willing to dig in. So you take your time. I’ll be waiting right here when you’re ready to talk.”
Josephina looked around at the sophisticated dining room, the clean lines of the foyer—it all looked wrong. This place was no longer a passion they shared. They would never sit over a meal and talk with pride about how far they’d come. There was no more joy in this for her.
Everything would forever remind her of Brett—and how
much he’d hurt her.
* * *
Eight hours later, the heat had finally dropped to a balmy ninety-three. Brett’s stomach was in knots, the sun was finally setting, and he hadn’t heard a peep out of Joie. Not a one. She hadn’t even come out to check on Boo, who was sitting on the stairs next to Brett, his sad little muzzle resting on Brett’s thigh.
“Sorry you’re in the doghouse, buddy. Never meant to bring you with me, but the loyalty is appreciated.”
Boo’s eyes—just his eyes—moved up to connect with Brett’s and the poor guy let out a whimper.
“I know. She has to come out sometime.” The dog looked about as confident in Brett’s assessment as Brett felt.
“That’s the sorriest picture I’ve ever seen,” Hattie said, hopping out of Cal’s truck, Cal right behind her.
Brett didn’t want to face his family. Not yet. He was still mad at his grandma and he didn’t want to deal with Cal’s I-told-you-so bullshit.
“If you’re here with dinner, I’m not hungry.” He was starved, but knew he wouldn’t be able to eat unless it involved sitting at Joie’s table. “And if you’re here to apologize, then you might as well go home, because she’s not taking callers and I’m first in line.”
“I’m here to take you home before Jackson hauls you in for soliciting on a lady’s stoop,” Cal explained.
“And what the hell do you think I’m soliciting?”
“According to the papers, sex,” Hattie said.
“Did you have to bring her?” Brett pointed to his grandmother, who was now pacing the porch and peering through the windows.
“She was with me when Spenser called. Since you haven’t bothered to answer your phone all day and Spenser only gave me ten minutes to drag you home before she called Jackson to arrest your dumb ass, I decided to head straight over,” Cal said. “So why don’t you come home and let Joie cool off?”
“She told me that she doesn’t want to talk about it. That it’s too late. Not that I blame her.”
“She didn’t change it none,” Hattie said, her face pressed to the salon’s window. She sounded perplexed and out-and-out astonished.
