A Shot of Sultry

by Macy Beckett

  “Luckily, I know you better than most people.” June pointed a yellow candy shell at her. “And I say you’re sweet.” She tried using a forceful tone, but it was instantly neutralized by her wide, brown eyes and Shirley Temple ringlets.

  “Not even my brother would agree with you. Where is he, by the way?”

  “In the toolshed.” June lined up her M&Ms and began flipping them right-side up. “Tinkering. It’s how he deals, kind of like his version of alphabetizing the spice rack.” Darting a glance at the open pantry, June wrinkled her forehead and nodded at the shelves. “No offense, but that creeps me out. It reminds me of the scene in Sleeping with the Enemy where Julia Roberts comes home and finds all the cans in her cupboard lined up and facing the same way.”

  “Oh, yeah, and then she runs in the bathroom and notices the towels are hanging just right.”

  “And that’s how she knows her psycho husband’s been in the house.” June shivered.

  “Sorry.” Bobbi tossed a handful of candies into her mouth and spoke with one cheek full. “You can mess it up if you want. It’s not the finished product that makes me feel better; it’s the act itself.”

  While June absently rotated each M&M, she bit her lip and stared at the table in a way that warned Bobbi a change was coming in their small talk. “I can tell it’s hard for you and Luke being together like this.” Peeking through her lashes, she added, “Because you’re both jealous of what the other one had.”

  “Luke? Jealous of me?” Bobbi felt her brows pinch together. “What did I have that he could possibly want?”

  June replied without hesitation, as if the answer should be obvious. “A mother.”

  “Psssh,” Bobbi scoffed. “She wasn’t much of a mother. He didn’t miss out on anything after she left.”

  “I know. I remember a little about her, and to be honest, he wasn’t missing out on much while she was still here.”

  “Exactly. Mama was there in body, but not in mind or spirit. I don’t know why she didn’t leave us both behind, since she barely acknowledged my existence anyway.” God only knows how she would’ve turned out if it hadn’t been for her dads.

  “That’s the thing,” June said, leaning forward. “I think it would’ve been easier for Luke if your mom had left both of you, but she didn’t. Instead, she chose you and abandoned him. Like playing favorites, but on a bigger scale. Can you imagine how that would feel for a twelve-year-old boy who’d already lost his father?”

  Bobbi nodded, the corners of her mouth drooping in a frown. “The ultimate rejection.”

  “Right, because nobody’s supposed to love you more than your own mother. And by taking you to California with her, she basically told Luke you were worth keeping, but he wasn’t. It really messed him up, and I’d know—he came to live with us after that. He was angry at first, breaking things and acting out, and even after he calmed down, he was really guarded.”

  Bobbi absently pushed her M&Ms across the table. “Poor kid.” She could picture him, tall and lanky like Carlo with a cap of reddish-brown hair, desperately trying to act like a little man while bleeding on the inside. She wanted to wrap her arms around twelve-year-old Luke and hug away his pain. “I wish he could’ve known how lucky he was, staying with you and your grandma.”

  June shrugged. “He sees that now, but it wasn’t so easy back then. For the longest time, he had serious trust issues. The first time I told Luke I loved him, he lost his shit—oops, I mean sugar—and we didn’t talk for almost ten years after that.”

  “When you moved away?”

  “Yep. After we got married, he told me I love you were the last words his mom said to him before she left. So all those years, he assumed people didn’t mean it. That’s why he’d reacted so harshly with me, because deep down, he didn’t think he was worth loving. It broke my heart to hear him say that.” June lowered her voice, glancing from side to side as if someone might be listening. “But don’t tell him I told you. He doesn’t like people knowing. I think on some level, he’s still ashamed that his own mama didn’t want him, and that’s why he never told Trey about you.”

  “That’s awful.”

  “When I came back to town, I basically had to teach him how to love. It wasn’t easy.” She got a far-off look in her eyes and smiled sadly. “He fought me almost to the death, but I eventually got through to him.”

  “I’m glad.” Bobbi reached out and patted June’s hand. “I guess I should thank you for that.”

  Smiling, June gave Bobbi’s fingers a squeeze. “You two are more alike than you think. I hope you can let go of what you missed out on, and focus on what you have. You’ve already lost so much time.”

  Bobbi took a few minutes to digest what June had just shared with her. Looking back, Mama’d had a dysfunctional relationship with members of the male sex, disdainful but codependent. She’d clearly despised men, but Bobbi couldn’t remember a time when Mama hadn’t had a boyfriend, or at the very least, a steady booty call. Maybe that’d been the motivating factor in her mother’s decision to abandon Luke. At twelve years old, he’d just started to become a man—the embodiment of everything their mother had hated.

  Bobbi cringed, remembering her own words. Don’t pretend to know what it was like for me. Not when you were living on some redneck version of Easy Street! She’d had no idea how deeply Mama had cut Luke, nor how long his wounds had taken to heal. How arrogant of her to assume she’d been the only one to suffer.

  “Think I’ll go talk to him,” Bobbi decided. “If I don’t make it back in half an hour, come make sure we haven’t killed each other.”

  June giggled. “Just do me a favor and don’t hit him below the belt. I’m ovulating soon, so I need him fully operational tonight.”

  Bobbi did not need to know that. “I didn’t realize you two were trying for a baby.” As often as Luke plowed that field, June should’ve sprouted a seedling by now. It looked like Bobbi would be sleeping with her earbuds in.

  “We’re not. At least not officially.” June bit her lip while a rosy flush mottled her cheeks. “He needs a little more convincing, but I think I can sway him.”

  What was Bobbi supposed to say to that? Break a leg? Or break an egg? “I’d better go,” she muttered clumsily, “before I lose my nerve.” She pushed to standing and scurried toward the exit, desperately trying not to picture the conception of her future niece or nephew.

  “Hey,” June called, “send him in when you’re done. The wine’s making me sleepy.”

  “You got it.” Note to self: never bunk with newlyweds again, no matter how broke.

  Bobbi stepped out the back door and shuffled down the porch steps, immediately stopping short at the eerie change in the weather. A thick, rolling fog had uncurled over the lawn, creeping lazily toward nowhere in particular. The rain had stopped, and a full moon hung low and heavy in the sky like an overripe melon, illuminating the dense night air. Sudden movement from within the tall cornstalks bordering Luke’s property caused Bobbi’s breath to catch. Images of knife-wielding, white-haired children of the corn flashed in her mind, and she broke into a run, bolting toward the shed’s glow. It was probably just a raccoon scurrying through the field, but try telling that to her overactive imagination.

  Without knocking, she threw open the wooden door and rushed inside the shed.

  Eyes flying wide, Luke clapped a palm over his chest. “Jesus Christ, Bo! You scared the ever-loving shit outta me!”

  She slammed the door and leaned back against the rough pine, trying to steady her breathing as the scents of wood glue and sawdust filled her nostrils. “Sorry,” she panted. “Too many horror movies. Everyone gets whacked in the cornfield, usually with a scythe.” When Luke quirked a questioning brow, she clarified, “There’s something alive out there.”

  He shook his head, rolling his eyes as if to say, You’re such a girl. “Of course there’s s
omething alive out there. About three dozen deer, on any given night. The only thing getting butchered in that field is the corn.” He returned his attention to a round, white contraption about a foot in diameter that sat belly-up on his workbench. Sorting through multicolored wires, he squinted at the machine’s innards, and Bobbi half expected him to request a scalpel.

  “What’re you doing?” she asked, shoving her hands into her back pockets. Glancing around the oddly tidy space, she observed this was more of a workshop than a shed, and unlike Luke’s office, he kept his tools in pristine order, shovels and rakes neatly lining the walls, each wrench and screwdriver in its designated, labeled drawer. He’d even built a pegboard to hold larger instruments, like hammers and awls.

  Luke made a guttural sound of frustration from the back of his throat. “June picked up this old Roomba at a yard sale, and she wants me to get it working again.”

  “What’s a Roomba?” She stepped closer, observing two rubber wheels and a white plastic shell Luke had set to the side.

  “A robotic vacuum. June’s got it in her head that this thing’ll clean the house while we’re at Shooters.” He snorted a laugh. “Gonna scare the piss outta the cat, though, so we’ll have a mess to deal with either way.”

  Bobbi had caught a few glimpses of Lucky, June’s half-crippled, black and white cat, but the timid animal had taken to hiding behind the furniture since Bobbi’d come to town. “How’d you wind up with a three-legged cat, anyway? I thought you were more of a dog person.”

  “I am.” Luke pulled two oak barstools from the wall, offering one to her. “June rescued Lucky from a shelter years ago. Some animal attacked him, and they were gonna put him down. She paid for his surgery with her grocery money, and ate ramen noodles for the next six months.”

  Smiling, Bobbi dragged her stool opposite Luke at the workstation and perched atop the seat. “That sounds like something June would do. She’s got a big heart.”

  “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. “Always has, even when we were kids. I was a real butthole to her back then, but she never quit sticking up for me.”

  “You know,” Bobbi said, brushing a bit of sawdust from the tabletop onto the floor, “as much as I wish we could’ve grown up together, I’m glad you had June. She was kind of like the sister I couldn’t be for you.” She caught herself scratching her nose and tucked her hands beneath her thighs.

  Bobbi didn’t feel comfortable meeting Luke’s gaze, but she sensed him watching her. “Well, I’m glad she was in my life, but I never thought of June as my sister.” He cleared his throat. “I already had one of those, and I wouldn’t let anyone take her place.” After a few seconds of charged silence, he said, “I never forgot about you, Bo. I’m sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”

  Now she glanced into his eyes, warm and green and overflowing with guilt. Guilt she’d dumped on him during her childish tirade earlier. “Don’t do that to yourself. You didn’t have to look for me at all.” Honestly, by the time Bobbi’d graduated from high school, she’d forgotten she even had a brother. What little she’d remembered of Luke had been blocked out by her defensive subconscious years before.

  “But if I hadn’t waited so long—”

  “What?” she demanded, softly. “You’d have taken over raising me when you were still a kid yourself?” She shook her head, then reached across the wood tabletop to nudge his hairy forearm. “I’m not the kind of person who thinks everything happens for a reason, but by the time you were old enough to get custody of me, I was already with my dads. If the courts had given me to you, I would’ve missed out on being a part of their family.” She rested her hand atop his for one brief second. “This way, I get to have it all—you and them. Everything worked out the way it was supposed to.”

  “Still, I wish I could’ve been there for you.”

  She did too, so much that she ached for it. “There’s no point wishing we could change the past.” Bobbi remembered June’s advice not to waste another minute. “You’re here for me now, right?”

  Luke nodded firmly. “Goddamn right I am. If you still need me.”

  Pushing off her stool, Bobbi skirted around the table. “What if I do?”

  He didn’t hesitate to rush to her side. He threw his arms around her and squeezed, giving her a bear hug that nearly cracked half her ribs but left no doubt about how much he cared. Despite their argument, despite all those years apart, he was still her brother, and he’d love her always.

  Gripping her shoulders, he stepped back. “So are you gonna tell me who I need to pummel into the ground?” A lock of auburn hair fell over one eye, making him appear less like an avenging angel and more like a little boy. It brought a smile to her lips. “Who made you cry tonight?”

  Bobbi decided to tell him the truth, but not the whole truth. “I had the…um…unique pleasure of meeting Trey’s mother.”

  “Awwww, shit.” Luke stepped back and rubbed his stubbly jaw with one hand. “I didn’t know she was in town.”

  “Neither did Trey.” Not that it was any consolation, but Trey’d seemed less happy to see his mother than Bobbi had been. “Mrs. Lewis said all the right things, but she still made me feel like—”

  “Trash,” Luke finished with a knowing nod. “She’s real good at that.”

  “Once she heard my name was Gallagher, it was over.”

  “I’m sorry, Bo.” His nostrils flared as he pulled in a deep breath and released it in a huff. “It’s not you she hates, it’s me.”

  “I know. Trey told me.”

  “Yeah?” Mahogany brows arched in a stern V as he jutted out his chin. “What did he do about Mommy Dearest?”

  “Down, boy,” she teased, standing on tiptoe to pat his head. “He tried keeping her in check, but it didn’t work. For what it’s worth, she’s going through a rough time right now, so I told him to stay with her and be a good son.”

  “What kind of rough time?”

  “Ask Trey. It’s his story to tell, not mine.”

  Luke crossed his arms over his chest and rose to full height, reminding Bobbi of the old Monty Python Spanish Inquisition spoofs. “So you know more about my best friend’s private life than I do? Just how close are you two?”

  “We’re friends, that’s all.”

  Shrewd eyes appraised her face, staring her down as if waiting for a confession. “I hope you’re not bullshitting me. Trey’s like a brother, but he’s not the kinda guy I’d want to see you get mixed up with.”

  She didn’t know why, but his words burned. A sudden urge to defend Trey hijacked Bobbi’s vocal chords. “Why not?” When Luke’s eyes widened, she stammered, “I mean, I’m not interested in him, but he seems nice enough. A total gentleman when I set him up on dates.” But not so gentlemanly when he’s got me on the countertop with his teeth around my nipple.

  “He is nice enough, but he’s too much like me—well, how I used to be. He’s a player, and there’s nothin’ wrong with that, so long as he’s not playin’ with my little sister.” He tugged a lock of her hair. “Know what I mean, jelly bean?”

  “Yeah.” A player? Bobbi tried to keep a straight face, hiding how deeply her brother’s words had disappointed her, but it wasn’t easy. “I almost forgot,” she murmured absently. “I’m supposed to tell you to come inside. June’s waiting for you to…uh…fulfill your manly duties or whatever.”

  He didn’t seem pleased by the news. Reaching back to scratch his neck, he darted a glance around the shed until it landed on the disemboweled Roomba. “Tell her I’ll be here awhile longer. I want to wrap up this project tonight.”

  Bobbi looked from the robot to her brother and back again. The only way he’d finish repairing that thing tonight is if God decided to add another five hundred hours to the day. “Let me make sure I understand. Your wife—the one you can’t keep your hands off of—is inside waiting to do bad things to you, and you’re ch
oosing to stay here and tinker with a broken vacuum?”

  “She’s the one who asked me to fix it,” he said defensively.

  Bobbi held both palms out. “Okay, okay. None of my business.” Maybe Luke wasn’t as close to “swaying” as June thought. And who could blame him? Babies were an epic pain in the ass, and Bobbi didn’t understand why anyone would bring one into the world when plenty of children were already waiting for good homes. “I’ll see you in the morning then.”

  “’Night.”

  With a wave, she poked her head out the door. Glancing at the cornfield for movement, she ventured cautiously into the backyard and managed to make it to the porch without breaking into a sprint. Once inside, she tiptoed to the kitchen, afraid of waking June if she’d already fallen asleep, and poured herself a generous glass of Pinot Noir. Then she grabbed her bag of M&Ms and padded to the front porch to settle in one of the oversized, white rocking chairs.

  As Bobbi sipped her wine, she couldn’t help mulling over what Luke had said about Trey, that he was a playboy and not the kind of man she should tangle with. Surely as Trey’s best friend, Luke knew him best, but she’d never seen any behavior on Trey’s part to make her think of him as a love-’em-and-leave-’em kind of guy. If anything, he’d been too respectful of the girls she’d thrown into his path. Unlike Colton, Trey had foregone one-night stands, barely even sparing a glance for the eligible females of Sultry County. Heck, the only woman he had eyes for these days was…

  Her.

  Bobbi closed her fist, crushing the M&Ms to bits. Right before Trey had taken her face between his gritty palms and kissed her, he’d said he couldn’t stand Sarah’s company because of one deal-breaking character flaw: she wasn’t Bobbi. Then he’d dizzied her mind with his kisses and made it impossible to think, but now—with a clear head—Bobbi could see Trey’s feelings for her went beyond simple lust. Way beyond. Maybe it wasn’t love, but he’d grown to care for her so deeply it had affected his ability to hook up with anyone else.