Moonshine & Magnolias

by Jamie Farrell

He was negotiating terms of a new kind of fun weekend.

  There was a difference.

  Chapter 9

  Shelby was standing on a slippery slope to stupidity.

  And she’d dealt with enough in the last week that she didn’t care. Mostly.

  She’d called an old high school friend who was a plumber now, and he’d arrived promptly to fix her pipes, but—dangnabbit—she should probably stay somewhere else this weekend, he’d said.

  She wasn’t one for reading signs, but this one had reached out and smacked her right between the eyeballs. Mari Belle’s offer of a trip to Atlanta wasn’t the first thought that came to Shelby’s mind.

  Not by a long shot.

  Anna and Jackson had given her a ride to the office, and Jackson had offered to have another talk with Zack, or ask around about him, or do pretty much anything Shelby needed on that front.

  Get me triple-strength condoms wasn’t something a nice Southern girl asked her girlfriends’ husbands, though, so Shelby had simply said she had it all under control.

  She was getting good enough at putting on pretenses that she almost believed herself.

  But the hard truth was, she liked Zack.

  And even though she wanted her babies to need her, they were Alexander’s responsibility right now.

  Anna had squeezed her in a hug before letting her go in to work. “Don’t be afraid to scratch the itch, but make sure you know what you really want. These things have a way of taking on a life of their own.”

  Anna would know. She’d had her whole post-divorce life planned out when she decided she could be just friends with Jackson.

  Shelby’s cynical side wanted to say, and look how that turned out.

  But she couldn’t get past how ridiculously happy the two of them were together.

  “I’m not ever settling for anything less than that,” Tara had said once.

  Mari Belle had made a delicate Southern snort and replied, “That much happiness is beyond my personality.”

  But Shelby—she wanted to be happy. Her own kind of happy.

  And Zack was right.

  She’d hated it when Alexander told her they couldn’t go places and do things. And here she was, doing it to herself.

  Zack wasn’t her next forever after. But he was here, a nice guy, offering her a nice weekend away. Even after she was sweet as tar about it. She hadn’t even told him thank you for holding her hair out of the toilet last night.

  But he’d still agreed to take her to Savannah for the weekend.

  Four hours farther away from her babies.

  But they were absolutely fine. Alexander was a responsible grown-up, which he’d reminded her every time she’d called to check on the kids. Maybe Hailey would have knots in her hair when she came home next weekend. Maybe Braden would need his teeth brushed a few extra times.

  But her babies were fine.

  And so she, Shelby Marie Dukakis Thermokopolos, was fixin’ to have an adventure this weekend.

  It was time to start her new life.

  * * *

  Zack should’ve cancelled his weekend to work on his kitchen. His moving orders were due to drop any day now, and there was no way he’d have the house ready to rent on time at this rate.

  But Thursday afternoon, while he was putting a second coat of white paint on his kitchen cabinets out back in the summer heat, One-Two-Shelby marched out into her backyard and right up to the fence between their houses while Penelope pranced around the yard and onto the magnolia trunk.

  “You better get that passenger seat cleared off in your Jeep, because I’m not bailing on riding shotgun this weekend,” Shelby said.

  Zack put his paintbrush down. Her wavy hair was uneven, as though she’d been running her good hand through it all afternoon, and she had a smear of blue—ink, he guessed—across the front of her ivory skirt. She also had a stubborn I’ll count to three if you dare tell me no set to her jaw, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

  Nope, those hazel soul-suckers were flickering with fear.

  “And I don’t even care if all you’re fixin’ to do is visit gentlemen’s clubs and watch naked ladies dance,” she said. “I’m riding along.”

  Zack was the baby of his family. The baby baby. Youngest sibling, youngest cousin. He related more to some of his cousin’s kids than he did to his cousins. He’d always been the one being taken care of.

  Professionally, he’d had some adjusting to do as he’d gone up in rank and started taking care of younger airmen. But he’d figured it out, and he thought he did a pretty good job.

  But he’d never felt the need to take care of a woman.

  Today, though, he wanted to wrap Shelby in a hug and promise her this weekend wouldn’t hurt one bit. “Bring your own dollar bills,” he said instead. “Twenties, if you want lap dances.”

  The fear burned out, and a spark of a challenge made the gold flecks in her eyes shine. “Honey buns, you want a twenty, you’re gonna have to earn it. Matter of fact, I think you’ll have to pay me for the honor of shaking your tush in my lap.”

  Yep. This weekend was a bad, bad idea. He wanted to strip away that sass, strip away the fear, and then strip away her clothes and work out the tension building between them. “You ever have a lap dance?” he asked.

  Those bright pink spots on her cheeks were adorable.

  “Just as much skill in getting as in giving, Sergeant. Have you ever had a lap dance?”

  None he’d enjoyed half as much as he enjoyed flirting with her. “Slow down there, One-Two-Shelby. We trade all our good stories today, what will we talk about in the car tomorrow?”

  “No need for talking if the radio works.”

  He gave her a slow smile. “Bet you the first lap dance you can’t make it two miles without talking.”

  Her mouth opened.

  Then closed.

  And then those eyes of hers gleamed. “You’re on, Sergeant Sugarbuns.”

  He wasn’t sure if that counted as a victory or not, but he’d take it.

  * * *

  Hyperventilating was not part of the weekend plan, but by 3:30 Friday afternoon, it appeared to be scheduling itself in.

  Shelby had called Alexander over lunch to check on the kids, only to find that he’d gone to work after flying his mother in to watch the children instead. He’d said Hailey was melodramatic but fine, and Braden was whiny and back in diapers. And his mother wouldn’t answer her phone.

  But Shelby could call from the road…and look like a total control freak mommy hag to Zack when she was supposed to be having fun. And talking about something other than her kids.

  Or not talking.

  She still wasn’t sure if that lap dance threat was real or for show.

  She was all show. But she didn’t know if Zack was or not.

  And she wanted to know.

  Even if it was only for this weekend, she wanted to know.

  At 3:55, the front door opened, and Zack walked in. Despite the late June heat, he was in distressed jeans and a white polo that contrasted beautifully with his sun-kissed skin. He carried a subtle scent of aftershave with him, and that ever-present smile made her belly dip. “Afternoon, One-Two-Shelby,” he said.

  She slid back too quickly in her chair and banged her cast on her desk. But she covered her wince with what she hoped was a flirty smile. “Well, look at you, cleaned up all nice and everything.”

  “Had to shower after loading all sixteen of your bags in the car. Almost took Penelope instead. She just needs a couple bowls and a leash.”

  “Her grooming kit’s bigger than my one suitcase,” Shelby countered. “A dog her age doesn’t look that good without a lot of work.”

  He smiled at her and leaned his forearms on the upper part of the receptionist desk. “Nervous?” he murmured.

  “Did God give a duck nipples?”

  His brow furrowed like the poor thing actually had to think about it. Northern folk were so slow sometimes.

  “That’s a n
o,” she said.

  “Isn’t it exhausting, using that many words to say no?”

  “Isn’t it boring, being from the land of no personality?”

  His cheeks split into a wide grin, and her thighs clenched against the hormonal surge. Those sapphire lady-killers narrowed in on her. “Only now that I know better,” he said. “You ready?”

  She logged out of her computer, let her boss know she was leaving for the weekend, and then managed to stand and walk toward the door without banging her cast on anything or tripping over her own two feet or insulting him in Southern, accidentally or on purpose.

  She’d never met a man more amused to be put in his place. The first—and only—time she blessed Alexander’s heart, he’d told her in no uncertain terms that he was a highly educated man and the only way their marriage would work was through mutual respect, and that included not giving backhanded insults.

  If he hadn’t declared her momma’s good ol’ Southern cooking a recipe for heart disease and diabetes, she wouldn’t have had to bless his heart. But because she’d been carrying his baby and because she’d wanted to make an honest effort at making her marriage work, she’d trained herself to hold it all in.

  Zack made it all come out. He’d opened the floodgates, taken her filter, and encouraged her to speak her mind more every time he flashed that cheeky grin her way.

  He led her to his Jeep, and she blinked at the shiny black surface of the Cherokee. “Oh, honey, I hope you know I’m not the type to put out just because you washed your car.”

  He swung the door open. “Wasn’t for you.” He pointed to the thunderclouds rolling in from the southwest. “Haven’t had enough rain this week. I’m testing the rain gods. Buckle up, One-Two-Shelby. We’re in for a ride.”

  That was the dadgum truth.

  “And if you don’t smile about it,” he added, “I might have to kiss you again.”

  She reached up and touched his cheek. Smooth. Clean-shaven. Cool compared to the thick, hot afternoon. More electric than the lightning flashing in the clouds coming up behind them.

  Male.

  “This girl?” Shelby said. “She’s not me. Not this weekend. So don’t go reading anything into me letting you give me a lap dance. Because it won’t happen again after we get back on Sunday.”

  “I think this girl’s more you than you know. But don’t read anything into me kissing you, because I’m due for orders in the next couple weeks.”

  Her breath caught. She’d heard rumors about his orders, but it still hit her in the chest.

  Zack Montgomery had weaseled his way into places he didn’t belong. “Then we’re both good,” she said.

  He studied her, those deep blue eyes more serious, deeper, more intuitive than his easy grin would’ve suggested he could be. As though he could see right through her.

  As though he knew he’d be doing both of them a favor if he suggested he take her home. Drop her at Kaci’s or Tara’s for the weekend.

  “Better get going if you want to stay ahead of the storm, Sergeant Slowpoke,” Shelby said.

  “I don’t expect there’s any staying ahead this weekend,” he said. “Not with you in the car.”

  He pulled back and shut her door, and two minutes later, his air-conditioning was kicking in, and they were heading out of town and off on Shelby’s first grand adventure as a single woman.

  Chapter 10

  Zack knew to prepare for the unexpected, but his first surprise of the weekend was that Shelby had a set of pipes on her. She made a sly comment that singing didn’t count as talking as far as their lap dance bet went, then turned on the radio. Billy Brenton’s “Goin’ Creekin’” came on, and she belted it out like a karaoke champ. Zack switched the station, and she immediately went into “Enter Sandman” as though she’d learned it in the womb.

  This girl needed a night at karaoke. Or better yet, the Savannah Smiles Dueling Pianos Bar.

  The old Metallica song finished, and he switched stations again.

  Shelby squealed and clapped her hands. “Oh, you should hear Braden sing this. It’s hilarious. He says it, ‘All ’bout da bass, no tubble.’”

  Zack grinned at her. “You made it four miles. I’m impressed.”

  “That was ten miles if it was an inch. Don’t you go cheating, or I’ll have to teach you how a Southern lady gets revenge.”

  “Does this involve calling your friends? Because that Tara is kinda cute.”

  “Oh, you think you could handle her? Bless your heart.”

  Zack’s sisters would love Shelby. So would his brother.

  “Honey, you know that’s not the nicest thing I could say to you, don’t you?” Shelby said.

  He cut a glance at her, and his grin widened. She almost looked genuinely worried about his intelligence. “My momma says I should take any blessing I can get,” he said.

  Her jaw audibly snapped shut as Meghan Trainor sang about bringing booty back.

  “Go on, say it,” Zack said. “I maybe could be fixing to say one of these Southern insults to my sisters next time I see them.”

  “Might could, honey, and it’s fixin’ to. No g on the end there.”

  “Bless my heart,” he said.

  Shelby giggled.

  But then she sucked in one of those about-to-ruin-it breaths. “I’m sorry. About getting sick the other night. You were real sweet to take care of me.”

  Zack puffed up his chest and gave his belly a scratch. “I reckon that moonshine got too big for its britches and took it out on your poor little ol’ self, Miss Shelby. Bless its heart.”

  Her laughter pealed through the car.

  Home run.

  “Oh, honey,” she said through her laughter. “You need to leave the Southern to us Southerners.”

  “I maybe might be able to learn,” he said.

  There she went again with the giggles. “Stop. For the love of my ears, stop.” She propped her cast on the console between the seats and twisted to face him. The movement stirred the air, and he caught a whiff of flowers and determination.

  His favorite combination—sexy and strong. And the smart-ass turned him on.

  No denying it. He liked being challenged.

  “Tell me about your family,” she said.

  He did, bits and pieces at a time, telling her stories of his childhood and his travels. He also coaxed out more tidbits about her life. Her little family, her worries about her kids and how her divorce would affect them, her thoughts on going back to school, how she’d stumbled into her ex-wives club.

  “Truth time,” she said. “Why haven’t you ever gotten married?”

  The afternoon thunderstorms were catching up with them, blossoming darker and faster all around them. He could’ve dodged the question on account of the weather, and needing his full concentration on the road, but other than the word married making him flinch like a normal male, he didn’t have anything to hide. “Never found a woman worth giving up my freedom for,” he said.

  “Lame,” she declared. “How old are you?”

  “Don’t you Southern women know not to ask a gentleman his age?”

  She bawked like a chicken.

  Zack choked so hard on a laugh, he almost drove off the road. Didn’t see that one coming.

  “Now, tell Auntie Shelby everything. Did your one true love break your heart and marry your best friend? Do you have a secret baby you’re supporting, and you don’t know how to tell your family? Or are you secretly in love with one of those cousins?”

  Zack patted her knee. “Sugarmuffin, you’ve been reading too many of those books again, ain’t you?”

  “Quit with the Southern. And I’ll have you know, you can learn a lot about life from a good Mae Daniels or Ava Bee novel.”

  “Men don’t read romance novels.”

  “Jackson does. And that man has one happy wife.”

  Zack opened his mouth. Then shut it again.

  Shelby smirked. “Exactly. So. Out with it. You kiss like a devil, s
o I know it’s not a matter of batting for the other team. What’s your deep dark secret?”

  “No secret. Just not the marrying kind.”

  His cheek warmed. She was squinting at him, trying to see through him. He could feel it. Lightning streaked across the sky a ways behind them, but it wouldn’t be long before the storm enveloped them. A little town was coming up on the back road he’d picked. He’d pull over and they’d get some dinner while they waited out the storm.

  “You don’t want a family?” Shelby said.

  “Got plenty of family,” he said with a grin.

  “Of your own.” There was no snark, no sass, no bless your heart coloring her voice. Just honest curiosity.

  He cut a glance toward her, and found those hazel eyes puzzling over him, as though he’d missed some key gene in the womb.

  “I want to see the world,” he said. “Every country before I’m sixty. That’s the goal.”

  “Can’t exactly travel with kids,” she said quietly.

  “Not true. My brother and his kids travel all the time. His wife’s from California, so they’re always on the road, coming and going and seeing everything in between.”

  “But you—”

  “I can retire from the Air Force in seven years,” he said. “Between savings, my pension, and rental income, if I’m smart, I can afford to travel full-time until I get tired of it. Six months or six years. Just go. See those pyramids. Walk the Great Wall. You know how cool it would be to set foot on Antarctica? Stand on top of Mount Everest? I want to eat Indian food in India, do Carnival in Brazil. See all of it. The whole world. With nothing holding me back.”

  Big, fat raindrops splattered his windshield as he crossed the town limits and spied a gas station with a barbecue joint attached. He might not have been raised in the South, but Miss Mitzi had told him when he first arrived at Gellings that the best food was always at the gas stations.

  Shelby had gone eerily quiet. Zack pulled into the parking lot on the side of the building and glanced at her. Her lips were pursed, and he had the strangest notion that dim light in her hazel eyes was a form of pity.