Texas Summer

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Texas Summer Page 16

by Hachtel, Leslie


  “Like PJ did?”

  “Yes, like PJ He was a very bad example, and I am so sorry.”

  “You don’t need to apologize for him. You never left.”

  “No. But I chose badly. We both have had to pay the consequences for that.”

  “What about the book? I don’t like that Wylie wrote about us.”

  “Why not? Good writers write what they know about. Don’t you think you need to let him explain and maybe you should actually read it all before you give up your future?”

  “How come you’re so smart?” Kennedy asked.

  Martha shrugged, smiling.

  “So what about Miller?”

  “It seems George has been waiting in the wings for a very long time. It is so nice to feel loved and cared for, for a change. And he isn’t half bad looking.” Martha blushed a little. “I just love that mustache.”

  “Well, I think it’s great!” But then Kennedy felt panicked. “What if Wylie doesn’t forgive me? I threw his ring in his face.”

  “Honey, that man is so in love with you, it will take a lot more than a little thing like that to make him walk away.”

  Kennedy jumped up. “I have to talk to him.”

  “Wash your face first and freshen up.”

  “But, Mama—”

  “He’s coming up to the porch now. So you better go comb your hair.”

  “Really?” Kennedy glanced through the window and then hurried into the bathroom just as there was a knock on the front door.

  Martha opened it and smiled as she invited Wylie in with a swing of her arm.

  “Is she here?” he asked.

  “She’s here.”

  “Will she talk to me?”

  “I think so. Have a seat.” He walked to the couch and sat on the edge of the cushion. Kennedy appeared a few minutes later, and Martha made herself scarce.

  “Hey,” he said.

  “Hey.”

  “Will you let me explain?” he asked, hopefully.

  “Why should I? You didn’t bother to mention that your latest book was about Snakewater—and me.”

  “Any more than you bothered to mention your old boyfriend was back in town and you felt obligated to kiss him.”

  She was getting defensive now. “For your information, I didn’t kiss him. He kissed me. And how did you know that?”

  “I went after you. I saw the two of you on the road. I didn’t see you calling for help.”

  “I can take care of myself, thank you. I told him to go away. But that doesn’t have anything to do with your novel.”

  “Kennedy, you are not in my novel. True, it’s about murder in a small town. Over money. OK, I admit I used some of the events here and set it in a place like Snakewater. Writers write what they know.”

  “Seems I’ve heard that before,” she said under her breath.

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Go on.”

  “It has nothing to do with us. Loving you gave me the impetus I needed to get off my ass and start writing again. Just like I’m going to kick you in the ass.”

  “Excuse me? You’re going to what?”

  “Kick your ass. About your painting.”

  “What about it?”

  “We’ll get to that. First I need you to understand I would never betray you. I’d like you to actually read the book—at least as much as I’ve written—so you can see for yourself. Would you do that?”

  “Maybe.”

  “You’re not afraid to admit you might have jumped to conclusions, are you?”

  “Maybe.”

  “And do you think you could come back to my room now and see the novel for yourself?”

  “Maybe.”

  “Can you say anything but maybe?”

  “Like?”

  “I’m sorry I didn’t trust you, Wylie,” he said.

  She pouted a little bit and then shrugged. “OK, I’m sorry I didn’t trust you.”

  “And I’m sorry I threw my ring at you.”

  “Oh my God, my ring. Did you find it?” She was now clearly horrified at what she’d done.

  He reached in his pocket and held it up, smiling. “Repeat after me: I will never do anything like this again, no matter how mad I get.”

  She was silent for a moment, and he wiggled the ring in front of her. “OK…I will never do anything like that again.”

  “And I will never take my ring off again,” he prompted.

  “Never. On pain of death. Except to replace it with a wedding ring?” She smiled broadly.

  “OK. That’s good.” He didn’t hand her the ring, and she looked at him, questioning. “And?” he urged her.

  “And?”

  “I love you, Wylie.”

  “Oh, yes. I love you, Wylie.” Kennedy snatched back her ring then threw herself into his arms.

  * * *

  They walked back to the motel, arm in arm, talking quietly. When they reached his room, they went inside and closed the door. She moved toward the bed.

  “Take off all your clothes,” he said.

  “Why should I?”

  “Because you’ll like what happens when you do.”

  “Really? What do you have in mind?”

  “It’s not what’s in my mind that concerns me now.” He grinned at her.

  Slowly, she stripped off her clothes, one piece at a time. When she was completely naked, she stood in front of him, waiting. “Now what?”

  He never seemed to get enough of seeing her naked. It wasn’t just the rush of blood to his manhood. With this woman it was so much more than sex. It was a completion. As if the other half of his soul waited. No pretense. Just joy. It made everything so much…better.

  “Lay on your stomach.”

  She obeyed, and he moved to her, taking off his clothes along the way. Then he straddled her thighs and massaged her back. He worked the muscles in her neck and moved down her spine to her waist. He worked on her creamy smooth buttocks, then down to her thighs and calves, kneading the muscles into submission. She sighed with apparent pleasure as he worked. He moved upward again, but this time it was his tongue. He teased and kissed her calves, then her thighs, and put his face between her legs, parting them and opening her moist, throbbing warmth with the tip of his tongue. He reached around her waist and lifted her to her knees, then mounted her and slipped his aching erection into the heated, welcoming refuge. He moved with agonizing slowness, as he slipped his fingers around to the hard knot between her legs, massaging and tantalizing. One final hard thrust and he exploded inside her as her answering cries told him she reached her climax at the same time.

  When their breathing had returned to normal and they lay together, he reached over and stroked her damp hair. “I do love you, you know. I will never leave you, and I will never hurt you on purpose. And if I ever do hurt you, I will do everything in my power to make it right.”

  “I believe you,” she said.

  “But you have to trust me. Next time, if you think I’ve done something wrong, ask me. OK? Talk to me.”

  “You’re right. I guess I have some trust issues.”

  “Well, the time has come to get over them. OK?”

  “I’ll work on it.”

  “That’s all I can ask.”

  “Now what about my painting?”

  He propped himself on one elbow and looked at her. “Do you have any idea how talented you are?”

  “Stop.”

  “I mean it.”

  “I just like putting colors on canvas. Anyone can do that. It’s not special.”

  “You’re wrong. It’s incredibly special, and you have a real gift. I want to see you pursue it.”

  “What does that mean?”

  “That means getting some of your work out there to galleries so you can show it.”

  “Who would buy my stuff?” She seemed cynical.

  “Kennedy, lots of people would buy what you do. I’m telling you. Your work is wonderful. It’s so much more than just colors on canvas
. It’s raw emotion and very moving.”

  “Seriously. You think so?”

  “Yes. I do. Will you promise we can start getting it out there?”

  “Sure. But I wouldn’t know how.”

  “Do you have a digital camera?”

  “Actually I do.”

  “Well, tomorrow we’ll take some photos and send them to a friend in Dallas who just happens to be an art dealer.”

  Kennedy took a deep breath, seeming to contemplate the possibilities. “You’re serious.” Her tone was still full of disbelief.

  “Yes, ma’am. I like the idea of marrying a woman more famous than I am.”

  She pursed her lips. “So if I get more famous, why should I stay with you?” She was clearly teasing.

  He raised his eyebrows. “Well, let me give you reason number one.” He bent his head and sucked her right nipple into his mouth.

  “Yeah…?” She was challenging him.

  “OK,” he said. “But you’ll beg for mercy.” With that, he dove down between her legs and thrust his tongue into her soft wetness. She tried to wriggle away, but he grabbed her buttocks and held her in place, continuing his lusty onslaught.

  “OK, mercy,” she cried.

  “I’ll give you mercy when I’m done and you agree to never leave me.”

  Her laughter rang out, and Wylie didn’t think he’d ever heard a sweeter sound. Life would never be boring with this woman.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  “I don’t seem to be getting anywhere. What can I do?” Dolores moaned. “That Wylie was no help.”

  “Well, going to see him was a bad idea. What made you think it would help? And stop whining for once.” Freddie just acted like she was a complainer. He probably thought this whole thing had turned into a big mess because of her. Well, it wasn’t her fault.

  “What else can I try? You’re so smart. You come up with something. And now that asshole James is trying to convince me there is no money. What kind of crap is that?”

  “It’s crap, all right. Just like everybody else in this town, he has a soft spot for poor little Kennedy. And he was tight with PJ I wouldn’t put it past him to come up with this story just to make sure Kennedy gets it all. I should have drowned that little bitch years ago. She never knew how to respect authority or do what she was told.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Dolores demanded.

  “It means what I said. She was always an outsider, causing trouble.”

  “Even if he claims there’s no money, they can’t get away with that, can they? Damn whore. She seems to have the luck. I tried to get her caught with the knife. And then I tried to get her arrested for stabbing me. Everybody’s on her side.”

  “Your first mistake was trusting Sweet. If brains were dynamite, he couldn’t have blown his own nose. He tried to work a better deal.”

  “OK, but I took care of it. The only deals he’ll be making now are with the devil.” She cackled at her humor.

  “No, you didn’t take care of it. You had somebody else take care of it—for a change. Never one to do the dirty work yourself, are you? Then you accused Kennedy of sticking you, but you talked too much. Miller is no fool. You made it look like a setup.”

  “I can’t do everything by myself, you know. Sometimes I need help. And where are you? Protecting yourself, that’s where. I thought Sweet would do anything I asked. And he did, till he got out of hand. It never occurred to me that I shouldn’t know where Weir was stuck with that blade. I didn’t think about that.”

  “That’s right. You didn’t think. The good news is the sheriff is more confused than ever. He isn’t even looking in our direction.”

  “So how do we convince him those two are guilty? With enough evidence to stand up?” She paused, thinking. “What if James was telling the truth, and there is no money?”

  “James was PJ’s friend and is clearly in Kennedy’s camp. Always had a crush on her, if you ask me. Do you believe James was telling the truth?”

  “No. But…what if?”

  “Right about now we’re in so deep we don’t have a choice but to keep going. I expect there will be a payoff at the end, but even if there isn’t, we need to get out from under. I’m sure as hell not sacrificing everything and going to jail.”

  “Well, I’m not either. I’m not like you—all big and strong. I wouldn’t do well in jail.” Dolores pouted.

  “There’s only one answer. We need to get rid of Kennedy and, now, that boyfriend of hers. Too bad he had to show up when he did.”

  “Fiancé,” Dolores sneered.

  “Really? He wants to marry the little bitch?”

  “Yep. Sickening, huh?”

  “Lucky for you I have brains. I’ve thought about it, and I’m pretty sure I’ve come up with the perfect idea. But this time, little girl, you might have to get your hands dirty.”

  “Whatever it takes. What is it? What are we going to do?”

  “You got the balls?”

  “I got the balls.”

  “Because we only have one more shot at this. I want to know I can count on you this time.”

  “You can. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved, and I’d do anything for you. For us. Just tell me when and where—oh, and how.”

  “I think you’re going to like it. Who is the only other person in this town that you know would jump under a bus for you?” he asked. “Who would kill for you—and did.”

  Dolores thought about it. “Judy Jane?”

  “Judy Jane!” Freddie sounded exasperated.

  “I don’t understand. How can we use her?”

  Freddie laughed. “We can make her the patsy. She’s in love with you, right?”

  “Don’t remind me.”

  “So if you asked her to meet you—say at the motel—she’d do it, right?”

  “She’d cream her pants.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And?” Dolores wasn’t getting this.

  “And then she somehow got killed—”

  Dolores picked up the thread. “By, say, the boyfriend.”

  “And we take Kennedy out of the picture…”

  Dolores smiled.

  The explanation clear, Dolores dialed. “Hey, JJ.”

  “I just love it when you call me that. That and Tiger.”

  Dolores wanted to puke. She could hear Judy Jane getting all warm and fuzzy. “I was thinking. You and I should—well, you know—get together.”

  “Yes…?” The excitement oozed through the phone.

  “You know how I feel about you, don’t you?” Dolores tried to sound sincere.

  “Well, I wasn’t sure.” The hope in Judy Jane’s voice was pathetic.

  “I have an idea. Why don’t we meet at the Sleep Tight? You know, next to Kennedy and her boyfriend’s room.”

  There was silence on the other end.

  “JJ?"

  “I just can’t believe it, is all. I have been dreaming about this day.”

  “Well, you have been so good to me. You helped me out with…you remember…Delie, Sweet. I never told you how impressed I was with the way you handled them. And you are so strong. It was an amazing thing to watch.”

  “It was nothing. I enjoyed it. That bitch, Delie, was crazy. And Sweet threatened you. I couldn’t have that.”

  “OK, so what do you think?” Dolores said into the phone. She could hear Judy Jane practically salivating on the other end.

  “Wow. I think it would be great. So…romantic. What a hoot to do it with those two next-door.”

  “Good. I am going to look forward to this.”

  “When? When should we do it?” Judy Jane was obviously so eager for the possibilities she could barely talk.

  “Well, I was thinking tonight. Those two had a fight, but I’m sure they’ll make up, and then they’ll be back in his room. Probably going at it like rabbits.”

  Judy Jane’s voice got quiet. “You know how I feel about you, don’t you, Dolores?”

  “Yes, JJ, I
know. I think it will be incredible to consummate our love for each other.” Dolores had to gag down the impulse to wretch.

  “I just love it when you call me JJ.”

  “You said that. So I need you to tell that old guy at the motel that you need a room for the night. I think his name is Pete. Anyway, if he asks why, just wink at him. Make sure it’s the room next to Wylie’s. The side with the connecting door. I was there this morning, and it’s the room on the left.”

  “My left or yours?”

  Dolores stifled the urge to scream. “As you face the motel, it’s the one on the right. Number 105.”

  “But you just said the left side.”

  Dolores took a deep breath. “It is on the left, if you are facing out from his room. And on the right side if you face the motel. You get how that works?”

  “OK, I get it now.”

  “Just remember you want room number 105.”

  “What if someone booked it already?”

  “Oh dear God. Wylie’s is the only room occupied in the whole place. Unless there’s a major convention tonight, I think we’re safe. If there’s a problem, just call and we’ll come up with another plan.”

  “OK. Otherwise, I’ll see you there about eight o’clock.”

  “I’ll bring the wine. And don’t let anyone see you.”

  “Do you think I’m stupid?” Judy Jane hung up the phone.

  “Dumber than dirt,” Dolores said as she, too, hung up. Then she turned to her companion. “This had better work,” she said.

  “It’ll work.” Freddie grinned. “In the meantime, come here. Daddy needs some attention.”

  “Daddy always needs some.”

  “You got a problem with that?” His voice had a hard edge to it.

  Dolores never wanted to make him mad. After all, he was her daddy.

  Judy Jane arrived early. The anticipation was almost too much to bear. She had showered and put on fresh underpants, her best. And she had opted to wear no bra, even though her heavy breasts sagged against the rough fabric of her man-tailored shirt. She remembered massage oil and flowers and two pretty wine glasses, since she was sure Dolores would forget the niceties.

  She told Pete, the old man at the desk, she had a date, and he looked at her like she had two heads.

 

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