“Fine,” Truman snapped. “I get it.”
Someone else, a poor unsuspecting hungry person, came through the front door and made his way to the counter.
“You have another customer,” Truman said with a wag of his fork.
“Aunt Lillian watches the counter.”
Truman glanced up sharply. “Why the sudden undivided attention?”
“Just trying to earn my tip from yesterday,” she said sweetly.
He stabbed at the gelatin. Maybe that red thing floating in there was the “surprise.” “You just want to watch me eat this, don’t you?”
“Yeah,” she said, her smile growing so wide he couldn’t make himself look away.
“Fine,” he said. If he didn’t eat the absurd and wiggling green mass on his plate, Sadie would know he was only here because she was here. She surely suspected that was the case, but he didn’t want her to be certain. She was already stringing him along, and doing a fine job of it.
“It just so happens that I love surprises,” he said as he forked up a small portion of the gelatin.
“Good to know,” Sadie said softly.
Truman held his breath while he shoveled the gelatin mess into his mouth. Maybe if he didn’t breathe he could swallow without making a face that would give him away.
He swallowed, then gestured to the seat across from him. “You’re not busy. Why don’t you get a plate and join me?”
“I don’t eat that stuff,” Sadie said, maintaining her stance beside him. “Besides, it’s not a good idea to fraternize with the customers.”
“One of Lillian’s rules?”
“One of my rules.”
Truman took another bite. The gelatin surprise wasn’t actually as bad as it looked, but it wasn’t good, either. “Why doesn’t Lillian just close up after breakfast on Wednesdays?” he asked when he’d swallowed the second bite.
“And let her customers go hungry?” Sadie smiled, then she stifled a laugh.
“Snorting at the customers. How attractive.” Truman shook his head. “This makes no sense. How can she be worried about her customers? No one’s here, but me and that poor unsuspecting guy at the counter.”
“Hey, if you can reason with Aunt Lillian, have at it. I can’t, and neither can anyone else in the family.” Sadie shrugged. “Jennifer doesn’t even try anymore. Aunt Lillian does what she wants.”
The guy at the counter took one look at his “surprise” and left.
Truman poked at his gelatin. How low had he fallen? How freakin’ desperate was he? “So, what are you doing Friday night?” he asked.
“Nothing,” Sadie answered quickly.
“Want to…”
“I told you before, no,” she said. Her smile was gone, her easy posture changed rapidly. “It’s not a good idea.”
“It’s a very good idea,” he countered.
She didn’t have any intention of answering. She’d said no. That was that. He really should just let it go.
“About Friday…”
“Truman, just give it up. It’s not going to happen.”
God, she was stubborn! He lowered his voice. “Please tell me you’re not harboring a grudge because I wouldn’t sleep with my best friend’s cousin when she was barely sixteen years old.”
“That’s ridiculous,” she whispered.
“I know!”
They both stopped speaking when Lillian Banks came toward them carrying a tray bearing a pitcher of tea, an extra glass and a plate of…bless her soul…sandwiches.
“I’m closing up early,” Lillian said. “Here’s your lunch, Sadie,” she said, expertly placing everything she carried on Truman’s table. “I’ll lock up, but you two can let yourselves out when you’re finished. Spare key’s under the register.”
Truman pointed at Sadie’s plate. “Why doesn’t Sadie get the surprise?”
“She doesn’t like it,” Lillian said with a shake of her gray head. “And it’s a woman’s God-given duty to spoil her family.”
Explanation enough for Lillian Banks. She walked away, her step hurried, exited the coffee shop, and locked the door behind her.
Sadie took her seat on the padded bench opposite Truman and picked up half a sandwich. She offered it to him at the end of an outstretched arm. “Lillian knows darn well I’m not going to sit here and eat three sandwiches. I guess she thinks you need to put a little meat on those bones.”
“She thinks we’re a cute couple,” Truman said as he took the sandwich.
Sadie’s grin widened. “She also thinks Lawrence Welk is the cat’s pajamas.”
“Lawrence Welk?” Truman said. “Shouldn’t she be into Mick Jagger or Paul McCartney?”
“Lillian’s mother was a big musical influence in her life.”
There was no arguing with Sadie. Truman pushed away the gelatin surprise, and gratefully ate the sandwich. He washed it down with sweet iced tea, and when the gelatin called to him, he scooped up the plate and deposited it on a nearby table where it was out of sight.
Every now and then he caught Sadie looking at him as if she felt the same attraction he did. It couldn’t be his imagination that sparks made the air heavier. Electric. Maybe it was strictly physical…maybe it was just his hopeful imagination. Sparks were for kids. This feeling of standing on the edge of something new and exciting, ready to jump or fall…he’d outgrown that feeling years ago.
But he really would like to get Sadie naked. Just once.
Lunch was finished, they had the place to themselves. Truman laid his forearms on the table and leaned slightly toward Sadie. “Friday…”
“No.”
“Saturday, then…”
“I’m not going out with you, McCain. We tried it once, it didn’t work.”
“I thought it worked just fine.”
Her eyes darkened, and there was no longer even a hint of a smile on her pretty face. “I disagree.”
Enough was enough. Sadie didn’t want to have anything to do with him, fine. Maybe it was some old grudge. Then again maybe she simply didn’t like him anymore and the attraction he was so sure she shared was strictly one-sided.
He rose and reached for his wallet at the same time, ready to pay and get out of here.
“On the house,” Sadie said. “You earned it,” she said, glancing at the gelatin surprise.
“No.” Truman stood beside the table and took out a ten-dollar bill. “Keep the change.”
“No way.”
He wasn’t going through this again. He carried the ten to the register, popped open the drawer, and dropped in the bill. Then he went looking for the spare key.
His fingers brushed bare counter, so he bent down to take a closer look. No key. “Sadie, where’s the key?”
“Very funny.”
He straightened up and saw that she was walking toward him. “No joke. It’s not here.”
Sadie didn’t believe him, she had to see for herself. She came behind the counter and bent down to look beneath the register. The counter was clean and bare.
“I’ll call the main desk. Jennifer is on this afternoon. She’ll know where Lillian is, and she can call and get her back over here to let us out.”
“Good.”
“She might even have a spare key there in the office.” Ah, the gleam of hope in her eyes…
All Sadie had to do was turn and reach for the phone. She dialed the number, then quickly and simply told her cousin what had happened. Truman could hear the laughter through the receiver from where he stood.
“Jen, I swear…” Sadie said in response to her cousin’s laughter. She stopped abruptly, looked down at the receiver in her hand, and then banged it down.
“I take it Jennifer is not running to the rescue,” Truman said tightly.
“Nope. This is our repayment for making her stay home last night. She said Aunt Lillian will be back about five.”
“Great. What about the back door?” He turned without waiting for an answer, and pushed his way through t
he door that led to the kitchen and beyond.
Sadie followed. “Forget it. Aunt Lillian got tired of the short-order cooks going out to smoke and then not locking up when they came back in. She put on a…”
Truman lifted the lock before Sadie could tell him why they couldn’t slip out the back.
“Padlock,” she finished quietly. “She carries the key in her purse.”
“I’m pretty sure this is a fire-code violation,” he said as he stared at the padlock. “At least during business hours.” Truman turned and leaned against the back door. Trapped. At least until five. Could be worse. They had food, plenty to drink, a couple of bathrooms…and in three hours or so Lillian would be here with her spare key.
“We could break a window,” Sadie said. She glanced up. “And there’s probably roof access underneath those ceiling tiles. If we can’t find a ladder, I’ll stand on your shoulders and…”
“Let’s look around and see if we can’t find the spare key first,” Truman suggested calmly. “I have a feeling the two of us breaking a window or going through the roof to get out of here is going to give the town something to talk about.”
“Like they aren’t already talking,” Sadie said dismally.
“I don’t like this any more than you do.” He brushed past her, headed for the front counter.
“Maybe if we stand in the window and look really sad and desperate, someone will see us and Jen will be forced to call Aunt Lillian.”
Truman spun on her. He’d had enough. A few words from Sadie pushed him beyond his reserve of patience. Like a cautious turtle he sticks his head out for the first time in years, and what happens? Sadie Harlow threatens to take it off.
“Sad and desperate? Is that how a couple of hours locked in here with me makes you feel? Sad and desperate?”
He expected her to deny it, to respond with something light and funny, something pithy to immediately remind him that he was overreacting.
She didn’t.
“Yeah.”
Chapter 4
She didn’t panic, not ever, and if she ever did it wouldn’t be over something silly like this. So why was her heart beating too fast? Why did her mouth taste like copper? Locked in Aunt Lillian’s café with Truman, nowhere to go, zilch to do but pretend she found him nothing more than an amusing nuisance. In the past few years she’d been in much more dire circumstances, and here she was almost in a frenzy…
The frenzy faded in a rush. “Mary Beth,” Sadie said, closing her eyes and breathing deep in relief. “She has a key.”
“Good,” Truman’s response was low and rumbling. A man’s voice, not the voice of the boy she’d loved a very long time ago. No, not loved. Lusted after. Wanted. Drooled over. That wasn’t love. She just hadn’t known that at the age of fifteen, where every new emotion was intense and life-altering.
Sadie found the directory near the phone, leafed through the pages of the thin book, and laid her finger on Mary Beth Baxter’s number. She dialed quickly. Mary Beth could be trusted. She’d let them out, and if they asked nicely she wouldn’t blab the amusing story about Sadie Harlow and Truman McCain getting themselves locked in the café to everyone in town. Sadie was willing to pay big to see that Mary Beth kept quiet. After this morning, there was probably enough gossip to keep the town going for a while.
The phone on the other end rang. What if Mary Beth wasn’t home? Sadie’s heart started to pound again. Finally, someone picked up, and for a half second Sadie felt a rush of relief. Then a cheery voice chimed, “Hi! We’re not home right now. Leave a message at the…”
Sadie slammed down the phone.
“Nobody home?” Truman, who stood to close behind her, asked.
“Answering machine.”
Sadie turned and faced him. She could really panic and call a locksmith or bust through a window, giving the entire town yet another topic of gossip, or she could settle in and wait for Aunt Lillian to get back. She didn’t have to worry about Jennifer not telling her mother to let them out until morning. If Sadie was locked up all night, Jennifer would have to stay home and work. They’d be stuck here for a few hours, that was all. Surely she could handle that.
Truman offered a suggestion of his own. “I can call the sheriff’s office and have them…”
“No,” Sadie interrupted sharply. She took a deep breath and calmed herself. “A parking lot full of patrol cars is just going to draw attention to the…the situation.” She had planned to visit Hearn’s secretary this afternoon. Well, she was likely some other bank official’s secretary now, but still…Rhea something-or-another, that was her name. She was one of those bubble-headed blondes who spent more time and energy on her nails and her hair than her brain, and if Sadie pushed just the right buttons she’d spill everything about her late boss’s personal life.
Yeah, she’d much rather think about murder than her current situation.
Truman leaned against the counter and gave her a smile. “Are you really that worried about what people think? About what they say? Who cares?”
She’d tried to embrace that attitude in the past few years. Life was so much easier when you didn’t care what anyone thought of you. But this was Garth, the scene of so many of her young mistakes. She had family here, and like it or not she did care about her family’s opinion. Lillian and Jen were off-center, unconventional and stubborn. But they were all she had.
She’d lived with her mother for eleven years, but when she thought of home it was here. Sadie and her mother had moved a lot, from one apartment to another, to a trailer or two, to a house with that one man who’d promised to marry the widow and make her daughter his own. That hadn’t worked out either.
No, Garth was the only home she’d ever known. That didn’t mean she wanted to stay, but still…to imagine the people here laughing about her predicament was more than she could handle, at the moment. If that made her juvenile and petty, so be it.
Sadie headed for the kitchen. Surely there was something in the place that needed cleaning. Something she could scrub for a couple of hours.
Truman followed her. “You came home to help your family when they needed you. That’s a good thing, Sadie.”
“It doesn’t feel so good at the moment,” she admitted in a low voice.
“Because Hearn ended up dead or because I’m here?”
Sadie turned and leaned against a spotless kitchen counter, and for the first time she allowed herself to see Truman as he really was. Not her cousin’s best friend, not the football hero, not the guy who’d laughed at her thirteen and a half years ago when she’d tried to seduce him. All that was past. Here and now he was just a nice guy who had tried very hard to be good to her. He was sweet and good-looking and charming and sexy…and all she’d done was give him grief.
“Not because you’re here,” she said softly.
But one thing hadn’t changed. She could not fall for Truman, any more than she could fall for any other man in Garth. She was nothing in this little town that felt like home. In this place she didn’t have a chance to be anything but waitress and maid and desk clerk.
“Are you happy here?” she asked.
Truman cocked his head to one side. “Most of the time.”
“Why?”
He leaned against the doorjamb, casual and unexpectedly appealing in his jeans and forest-green shirt. “It’s not very exciting, I know, but I like living in a place where I know everyone and they know me, where you can count on your neighbors, where the fishing is good.” He grinned. “I like living my life where the year’s greatest excitement comes from a bass festival and the accompanying craft fair. It’s quiet and real and good here, most of the time.”
“Don’t you miss…” she began, and the words stuck in her throat. What a stupid question. Of course he did! He’d been in the limelight for a while, he’d lived every man’s dream…for a while.
“Sometimes,” he answered softly. “Not very often.” He shifted his feet, crossed his arms over his chest. “You d
on’t like it here.”
“I don’t know if I like it or not.”
“So why are you so anxious to get out of town?”
Because I might start to feel like this is home again. Maybe I already have. “I need to get on with my life. I have a really great career with Benning. I’m good at what I do.”
“I don’t doubt it.” He studied her carefully, like a man accustomed to sizing people up with a glance.
Whatever the reason for the way he looked at her, the examination made Sadie shiver a little.
“Did a man hurt you?” Truman asked sharply. “Is that the reason you’re so skittish?”
“I’m not skittish,” she said defensively.
“You’re about to come out of your skin.”
For a period of time, a few months, maybe a year or two, she’d truly thought Spencer Mayfield was her Samuel Garth. She’d looked at him and seen forever. She’d fallen for all of his lies and seen the end of the rainbow, her own happily ever after. What a crock. She’d worked hard at making their relationship work, and still he’d gotten bored with her. Bored! Making love to her had become a chore to him, an obligation. She’d spent years wondering what was wrong with her. She still wondered…but she couldn’t tell Truman any of that.
“I made mistakes. We all know what that’s like. But it was years ago and I was different, then.” Needy. Always worried. Living at the whims of a man who didn’t love her. “I don’t love him anymore. If I met Spencer today, I wouldn’t even like him.”
“That’s not exactly what I was asking, but it’ll do. For now.”
Sadie couldn’t pretend that there was anything left in the café to clean. The place sparkled. What was left of Aunt Lillian’s Gelatin Surprise had gone down the disposal. The sight of that gelatinous mess disappearing down the drain had given Truman reason to worry about the water system in Garth.
Truly, Madly, Dangerously Page 6
