It was then that the front door opened. “Hey now! Ain’t that just like New Yorkers to try to slip into town undercover. Y’all think you’re slick?”
Liv swallowed down on a groan.
“Hey, Brent, it’s good to see you,” Liv said as Brent walked forward, then gave her a hug. His cologne clung to her nostrils a moment after he pulled back.
“It’s good to see you. Been way too long.”
She nodded as she looked at Aunt Kath’s and Uncle Cole’s youngest. Sure, Liv knew she should not go in for judging her cousin Brent Howell when she hadn’t seen him in years, but even as a kid he was a bit of a slippery one. Running with the bad boys and getting into all sorts of scrapes, but just quick-tongued enough to always skirt out of trouble. When the other kids would end up punished, no, not Brent. No matter whether he was the ring leader or not. And from what Liv had heard from her mom through the grapevine over the years, little had changed. Not that you could tell from the looks of him. Gone were the oversized T-shirts and low-slung baggy jeans he used to wear as a teen. Today he wore a well-tailored suit paired with an open-collar shirt. His high-top fade thankfully had been cut low and cropped close, and his face was clean shaven except for a well-trimmed, thin mustache that Liv decided rode a fine line between dastardly and suave. Either way it suited him, so it was cool. But still, just like in the old days, something about her cousin gave off that air of selling you overpriced insurance or hitting you up for twenty bucks that you’d never see again.
Liv almost snorted out loud when it was Drea who, as if reading her thoughts, beat her to the punch. “Hey there, Brent,” she said. “You are looking like new money in that suit. What, you hit the lotto or something? Let me hold twenty bucks.”
Brent was momentarily stunned by Drea’s boldness and totally taken off guard. She grinned then, letting him know it was a joke, but the intent was clear. Game knew game, and I had to respect her move.
“Wowza, little cuz,” he finally said. “What they feeding you up in New York that got you looking so good? You need to be modeling or something. Listen, if you’re not, I know a guy who’s opening up an agency in Atlanta. We’ve been talking about getting into business. I could hook you up.”
Well, that took all of 1.5 seconds. Yep. Some people never change no matter what the exterior looks like.
“Oh, Brent, cut it out with all that and leave that girl alone,” Aunt Kath said. “I don’t want to hear no talk about Atlanta coming from you. You just got in good with the real estate agency and you need to focus like we talked about. As if you know a thing about Atlanta or modeling.”
Brent pulled a face and gave a slight pout, and in that instant all the signs of the petulant child they remembered were back. “Mama, I didn’t say I knew about it. I said I knew a guy,” he whined.
Aunt Kath let out a huff and waved her hand. “Like you don’t always know a guy. All the guys you know could fill a stadium. You and your pie-in-the-sky dreams. You could come to earth and spend a little while on the straight and narrow for once, boy.” She leveled him with a hard stare then. “And I’ll hear no more about it.”
Brent’s eyes went wide as the house went silent, all eyes taking in the little five-second drama, looking for hidden clues between the silent moments. Finally, properly chastised in front of the New York cousins, Brent relented. “Yes, Mama.”
Aunt Kath nodded then and cracked a satisfied smile before turning toward Aunt Joyce. “Now, what is this I hear, Joyce, about a fire this morning?” She shook her head. “What is going on? There is no reason for you to be up so early messing with those ovens. I thought Rena was supposed to be there to help you with those things? Especially with the condition you’re in now with your hip and all. Am I right, Cole?”
Uncle Cole looked up, surprised to be included and then clearly uncomfortable about being asked. “Well, uh, yes, sure, dear. You’re right.” But then he glanced over at Aunt Joyce, who gave him a leg-quivering death stare, and he started to stammer. “Though, um, I’m sure Joyce knows what she’s about and has everything under control.”
Aunt Kath let out a sigh and shook her head. “Oh, I just can’t with you. Brent, what about him?”
Brent blinked and looked over from where he’d meandered toward the front room window as if the view were suddenly the most interesting thing. “Ma’am?” he said.
“What about him?” Aunt Joyce asked with a frown.
“Well, do you need him to at least stop by in the morning to check on you before he goes in to work? Make sure you’re on your feet and started all right before Rena gets there?”
Aunt Joyce frowned. “I’ll need no such thing. I’ve had enough of Brent and his ideas about the shop.”
“Now, Aunt Joyce, you made it clear. I was just letting you know the value of your prime real estate.”
Aunt Joyce huffed. “Well, Mister Real Estate Man, you worry about the value of those new developments out on the other side of the lake and keep your nose away from the shop.”
Brent shook his head. “Yes, ma’am.”
Aunt Kath chimed in then. “I’m sure he was only trying to help Joyce. Just like he’d only come to help you in the mornings. He could at least do that, maybe on his way to the gym?”
Aunt Joyce shook her head and waved a hand in front of her face as she turned toward the kitchen. “Enough of this. No need to start in on me today, Kath. It was no big deal. Something went wrong and faulty with the ovens; I’m going have them checked out. I thank you all for the concern, but as you can see, with the girls in town I have more than enough help. As a matter of fact, I’ll be practically tripping over it.”
Aunt Kath followed her toward the kitchen, with Liv and Drea coming up behind them. “Well, I’m just saying if it’s getting to be too much for you . . .” Aunt Kath started.
Aunt Joyce quickly turned around from where she was pulling out what looked like seasoned chicken from the fridge. She gave Aunt Kath a look of death. “I’m warning you, Katherine, I’m in a pretty good mood, don’t ruin it. Now, ain’t a bit of nothing getting to be too much for me. You have not been worried about the bakeshop all this time, and you sure don’t need to start worrying about it now.”
Aunt Kath looked as if she was about to say something. She opened her mouth and the sounds almost came out, but with one last look at Aunt Joyce’s rigid back it seemed as if better reason took over and she shut her mouth once again. Instead, she walked over to one of the other cabinets, leaned down and pulled out the big cast-iron skillet for Aunt Joyce, and put it onto the top of the stove. “You going to fry that chicken?” she asked.
Aunt Joyce gave her an incredulous look. “No, I’m going to crochet with it. What you think I’m going to do with it, Kath?”
“I’m just asking, Joyce. Don’t be so dang blang mean. What are you having with it?”
“I don’t know. I got some potato salad up in there, and some greens from Sunday, a little cobbler. I think there may be some leftover macaroni and cheese.” She shrugged. “Just a little something that I can put out for us to nibble on for lunch.”
“Well, come on,” Aunt Kath said. “Let me do some quick red rice to go with, and we’ll sit down and have it.... That is, if you’ll take the help,” she added in an exaggerated tone and gave a poke to Aunt Joyce’s side.
Aunt Joyce shook her head. “I swear, Kath, just because you’re now an old broad, don’t think I won’t wallop you one. Remember I used to get you but good when we were kids. I’m still your older sister. Don’t you forget it.”
Aunt Kath let out a long breath. “How could I ever, Joyce?” She then smiled toward Drea and Liv, who had been silent during the entire exchange. Liv had been taking in the tense back and forth between the sisters and the seemingly odd, but natural, way they resolved it over the decision to make the family lunch. “You girls go in and talk with Brent and Pearl. Get yourselves reacquainted. Lunch won’t be but a minute,” Aunt Kath said. “And come the weekend, we’ll have ourselves
a right good cookout out here on the water to welcome you back properly.”
Liv silently took in her two aunts, feeling as if she were somehow glimpsing her own future, and she thought, As if this isn’t welcome enough.
Chapter 7
Why in the world did I let Rena talk me into coming to Jolie’s tonight? Liv thought as the four of them stepped into the old country bar and, just like out of some bad movie, it seemed like everything stopped. Just perfect. Liv didn’t appreciate the eyes immediately turning their way or the self-conscious feeling it gave her that had her wanting to turn tail and head back to the comfort of Aunt Joyce’s place to hang with her in the den with the big TV.
But she couldn’t say the same for the rest of her crew. Drea, as usual, seemed to be blossoming under the attention of admiring male eyes, and Rena was born without a shy bone in her body, not to mention the fact that Pearl thought the sun rose and set on her, so she was fine with the attention even though she did a poor job of pretending to be put out over the fact of having to come to Jolie’s to eat and not the fine dining of the country club’s restaurant.
Squaring her shoulders, Liv pasted on what she hoped was a confidant smile and went along with her sister and cousins following the hostess to their table. This was clearly Rena’s spot. She strutted, smiled, and waved as if on the catwalk—first at the bartender, whom Liv immediately recognized as Caleb Morris, Clayton’s brother. He was so close to Clayton in looks, it was almost impossible for her not to recognize him, despite the fact that he was covering up his handsome face with an unruly full beard. Still, she could pick out the Morris eyes anywhere. Caleb gave Rena a warm, slow smile and a nod, and Liv was surprised when she saw the look of recognition dawn in his eyes when he saw her. He gave her a nod and a wave, and she watched as his eyes immediately went to an area at his right. She followed his gaze, and her eyes landed on none other than his brother, Clayton.
Liv clamped down on a groan as she fought to keep her walk steady. Just as she thought. She should have good and well stayed in at Aunt Joyce’s tonight. This town was too darned small. With things turning out to be the way they were, she should seriously think about reassessing her plan. Make it a lot more focused on just the mission at hand. Aunt Joyce’s, the bakeshop, and maybe a venture to see other family, but as for traipsing around the rest of the town, she could already tell, with Clayton Morris here, it was best not to. She clearly was still a little too muddled in her thinking to stay on track when it came to him.
But just as quick as that thought came to her, anger bubbled up too. So what, Clayton Morris was in town at the same time she was? It was her life, and his living there was just something she had to deal with for a short time. She was a grown woman, and he, very obviously by the looks of things, was a grown man. They were no longer kids, and she’d have to just get her mind right and deal with that fact. Just like they coexisted all those years ago, they could surely coexist now without there being any animosity or issues whatsoever. Couldn’t there?
Purposely not ignoring Clayton’s gaze as she went by, Liv gave him a smile and made a point to acknowledge the rest of his table, some of whom she’d recognized from the incident at the shop earlier. Hey, she might as well; they were all gawking hard enough. Just keep smiling and just keep walking, she told herself as she fought hard to ignore the insistent and erratic flipping of her heart; she tried her best to not acknowledge the strange spark she thought she saw in Clayton’s eyes or the way his own grin seemed just as forced as hers.
“Well done with the fakery, sister,” Drea whispered in her ear.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Liv said as she slipped into the booth, purposefully next to Pearl, on the opposite side of her sister.
Rena, not missing a beat, took the seat next to Drea, but looked straight ahead at Liv. “Oh, don’t try to ignore it, cousin. I saw you eyeing Clayton. And better than that, I saw him eyeing you right back. Hot jam! That didn’t take long.” She picked up the plastic placemat that also served as Jolie’s menu and waved it in front of her face. “Talk about a spark of magic. That man has been a dormant explosive for the longest time and suddenly you step into town and it feels like he can blow at any moment. It’s like watching a volcano. A person should hold on to their weave in the same room as you two.”
Hot jam? Liv would have laughed at Rena’s choice of words if they weren’t directed at her.
“I don’t know what you two are talking about. Leave the poor woman alone. Can’t you see you’re embarrassing her?” Pearl coming to Liv’s defense was a surprise. “Besides, Clayton Morris is nothing to get all in a tizzy over. Livy, being a woman of the world, has got way more sense than that. So what? They may or may not have had a thing back when. I’m sure that ship has sailed, and anyway, he’s got enough on his plate with that half-wild child of a daughter that he’s got.” She turned toward Liv. “You mark my words, just stay away from Clayton Morris. No matter what people say about him being all sweet and scoutlike with his kind firefighter ways, he’s not as sweet as he seems.” She shook her head and then slid a slightly disdainful look toward the table where Clayton was seated with his crew.
For the first time, Liv noticed a particularly pretty woman with wide eyes and a wider smile who was laughing at something Clayton was saying while she had her hand draped casually across his forearm. What was Pearl going on about again? Liv pulled her cousin back into focus.
“I tell you he’s more than likely nothing but trouble,” Pearl said.
“Really, Pearl, you only say that because Clayton’s been nothing but trouble for you. Or a lack thereof,” Rena replied.
What had been going on all these years that she’d been away? Had Clayton and Pearl had a thing? For as long as she knew, Pearl only had eyes for her very own football star husband.
Rena continued, “Talk about holding a grudge. You’re still mad over the fact that Clayton Morris never gave you the time of day and neither did his brother. Not when you thought you were the hottest thing in a cheerleader skirt back in high school, nor when you won Miss Sugar Lake. And not even when you and Mr. Perfect were on the rocks and you went out to his fishing cabin crying on his shoulder and he carted your drunk behind back home.”
At that, Pearl put her hand on her chest and pulled a shocked expression. “Why, I never. You know I don’t go around getting drunk.”
“Ahh,” Rena said. “But you’re saying nothing about going to men’s fishing cabins.” She nodded.
Pearl shook her head. “You are the worst. As usual you don’t know what you’re talking about, and your overactive imagination is running away with you.”
“Okay, Miss Pageant, you play it like you want to,” Rena said. “But just know that some of us understand that everything that glitters really ain’t gold.”
Just then their waitress came over to the table. She was a pretty, brown-skinned young woman with an easy, open smile. Liv found it funny how, despite her protests over supposedly not being a frequent patron of Jolie’s place, Pearl didn’t have to glance at the little placemat menu once, but instead quickly placed her order for a combo of the barbecue ribs and chicken with slaw, mac and cheese, and greens on the side. Liv, Rena, and Drea exchanged pointed looks as they went around the table with a round of, “I’ll have what she’s having,” but instead of going for the sweet iced tea that Pearl had ordered, since she was indeed eating for two, the trio opted for the locally famous Jolie’s Joy juice, a rum punch that packed quite a kick with its first sip.
As the cousins prodded on with the chitchat, Liv tried her best to join, but she couldn’t quite let go of the little bombshell that Rena had placed when they first sat down. She shouldn’t be surprised to hear about Pearl’s feelings for Clayton. Just about everybody had a crush for Clayton back in the day. But the fact that there was or could be some recent lingering, and the fact that he had to take a drunk Pearl home, now that really gave her pause. Did he actually take her home? And did anything ever happen
between them before he did? Was there more to this than even Rena’s deep wells of Sugar Lake history knew about?
There was no time for Liv to get into that. The food was up, and so was the music and the mood. Liv let out a long breath and decided then and there to let herself have fun and enjoy the barbecue in front of her. She picked up a rib and took her first bite, savoring the sweet and spicy flavor as it exploded on her tongue, suddenly finding herself seat-shimmying in time to the bar’s soul livening music. “This is absolutely delicious,” she said to the table in general, then turned to Rena. “I’m so glad you thought of it. Now I’m actually feeling like a real Sugar Laker.”
“Make yourself right at home, cousin,” Rena said. She picked up the pitcher of Joy juice and topped off Liv’s glass. “Wait, when did it become half full?” Liv grinned as she took another sip of the sweet concoction. Pretty slick of Jolie; making those ribs so deceptively spicy on the back of a person’s tongue. She suspected half her profits were due to people replenishing their drink pitchers.
“Hurry up and finish that. I want to get in a game of pool because I’m a little low on funds, but still feeling lucky,” Rena said. She turned Liv’s way again. “Do you still play? You used to have a real mean game back when we used to play in Uncle Clint’s basement.”
Liv practically choked on her drink and shook her head quickly. “Oh, no, I haven’t played in such a long time.” She let her mind flip back, and she remembered that the last time she shot pool was a particularly disastrous online date two guys before Damon. She’d won the game, which totally put the jerk off. Her winning closed the door on any options for a second date. He could barely look her in the eye after she won, let alone text her back. Insecurity was a terrible look on a man. Still, she refused Rena. “I don’t think you should count on me. I’m too rusty. What about Drea or Pearl?”
As Good as the First Time Page 9
