They left the store and walked to Owen’s car. The vehicle, a Volvo, was decent but didn’t scream money. The model, not more than a year old, didn’t say he was one up from broke either.
While Owen packed their purchases in the trunk, she watched him in the rearview mirror. His expression remained open, even happy. How did a person take life with such a casual attitude, as he seemed to do? Maybe underneath was the real man, a manipulator and a liar. He wanted to get to know her better, but from her experience men—and even women—desired it most when they had selfish motives. Okay, I’m jaded. I’m not pretending to be someone else. Am I?
Her cell phone buzzed, and she dug it from her purse’s side pocket. Her mouth went dry, chest constricting. She clenched her teeth together and hit the button to silence the phone.
“Old boyfriend?” Owen queried, behind the steering wheel now.
She looked up at him. “Why would you say that?”
“Because you went all tense and angry.”
“Oh…um, yeah.”
He didn’t need to know it was the yearly call from her mother. Not even on Christmas, but a week or so early as if she missed the day on purpose. Vanity had never answered, yet the emotions that gripped her when the call came through always threw her off center. She hated that Aunt Ella had given her cell number to her mother in the first place, and she always intended to get her number changed and forbid Aunt Ella from giving it out. She hadn’t done it yet.
“Okay, I’ll go.”
Owen chuckled. “Must it sound like you’re giving in to a sentencing? I promise not to pass judgment. We will have a nice dinner at whatever restaurant you like and talk about anything you like. How’s that?”
“Fine.”
When she arrived at her aunt’s place, Vanity made an excuse to spend the rest of the day going through her bag for an appropriate outfit. She told herself it didn’t matter. This was just Owen, and she wasn’t looking for something to develop between the two of them. When the holiday ended, she would return home and never see him again.
“Vanity, darling,” her aunt called from down the hall.
Vanity sighed and cracked her door open. “Yes?”
“My cards are going to be ready in the morning. Can you get Owen to run you to the printer and pick them up? I have a special one for your parents I want to get into the mail. I was late this year because I couldn’t decide on a new design.”
Vanity pulled in a breath and blew it out. “Aunt Ella, I don’t need him to run me down there. Just give me the address, and I’ll use GPS.”
“Maybe I should get you to hand carry it to your parents when you go home. The postal service is sketchy nowadays.”
Vanity rolled her eyes and almost laughed. “Nice try.”
She shut her door. Her aunt had been trying to reconcile her with her parents for years. As far as she was concerned, the rift could hold. They hadn’t changed, and maybe she hadn’t either. Things were fine as they were. Besides, her mother called Aunt Ella more often, but only to borrow money. Vanity didn’t want to know if the older woman gave her mother any.
By seven, Vanity was dressed and ready, and Owen rang the doorbell. When Vanity went to answer, she caught her breath. The man owned something other than ratty jeans. He wore dark slacks that hugged his narrow hips in just the right way. His jacket hung open to reveal a pullover sweater. The deep red and white hinted at a holiday theme while remaining subtle enough not to be gaudy, and he smelled good enough to eat. She bit her lip not to exclaim over the reaction to seeing him.
“You look nice,” she commented.
He grinned. “And you look beautiful. I’m surprised I didn’t have to wait. Isn’t that what women usually do? Keep a man waiting?”
“Sure, if I was trying to impress you.” She lied. Her ass had just put the finishing touches on her makeup, and that had taken much longer than usual. He didn’t need to know she had been preparing for hours. Still, this is just a friendly dinner, Vanity. You’re not shopping for a lover, and you definitely don’t do boyfriends. Got it.
A chill in the air, Vanity shivered, and thanked Owen, when he held her door open. Heat from his vents warmed her. He handed her a travel mug when he slipped into the car.
“What’s this?”
“Hot cocoa. I called ahead, and the restaurant will have a thirty to forty minute wait. Something warm and sweet might help.”
“Oh.” She took a sip, and the marshmallow and chocolaty goodness slid down easy. “Thanks. You didn’t have to do that.”
He took her hand and squeezed it gently before letting go. “I wanted to.”
Throughout the time it took to call them for their table, Owen chatted about inconsequential subjects. Vanity’s attention never wavered from the man in front of her, and when he placed a hand at her lower back to lead her to their table, she started. His clear blue eyes captured her when he looked down.
“Okay?” he murmured.
“Um, yeah.”
At first she didn’t know what the heck he said about their meal. She had to force her heart to calm long enough to decide on chicken Caesar salad with the dressing on the side.”
“Okay, now that I know you eat like a bird,” he commented, “tell me more about you.”
Vanity faltered on the bite of salad she had just put into her mouth. She munched, lowering her gaze and holding a hand to her lips. When she was done, she shook her head. “I don’t eat like a bird. Trust me. I can put it away. Just the month or so before holidays, I make better choices.”
He grinned. “Ah, so you can stuff yourself for Christmas.”
She smirked at him. “Something like that. You noticed Aunt Ella’s mastery in the kitchen, right? Anyway, I’m not talking about me. I don’t know anything about you. Where’s Jamie, for example.”
“With my parents. They will be traveling to San Diego to visit my sister and her family this year, so they want to spend as much time with him as possible.”
Vanity couldn’t help being awed. “How many sisters and brothers do you have?”
“Two sisters. That’s all. The other one lives here, in Dunn, near my parents.”
“You’re from Dunn?”
“I am. A genuine country boy.”
A sexy country boy.
“So your parents were very involved with your upbringing.” She stirred her food with her fork, but didn’t pick up anymore to eat. Not meaning to, she had directed the conversation to the one topic she considered off-limits.
“Yours weren’t.” He kept his tone low and unthreatening, but that didn’t stop Vanity’s stomach from knotting. Having turned twenty-eight earlier in the year, she should be over this mess. In many ways, she was. She had made a nice career for herself. She got there because she had worked her way through college, refusing help from Aunt Ella. Her own will and determination had brought her success. Not that she looked at it as if it was her against the world. She would not allow herself to depend on others.
Owen seemed to sense her reluctance to talk about her past, so he continued on without pressing. That attitude drew her closer to him than she wanted to be.
“Every year, my father took us out to a plot of land owned by a friend of his. We cut down a tree and dragged it home to decorate. I continue the tradition with Jamie. Not so much cutting one down, but getting a real one.”
Vanity’s eyes widened. “Are you serious? That crazy-looking thing at Aunt Ella’s house is what we always had. I have to come by and see yours.” She snapped her teeth together and squeaked. “I didn’t mean to…”
He burst out laughing. “Can’t take it back now. You have to come to my house.” He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively as if he intended to molest her as soon as she stepped through the door. Vanity couldn’t help laughing back at him, and it surprised her because around this time of the year, she almost never did so.
She put her fork down and took a sip of wine. “Well, maybe I’ll swing by. Before I leave.”
Con
versation continued to the flow, and before long, they were back in Owen’s car headed away from the restaurant. Outside her aunt’s house, Owen stopped the car and killed the engine.
“You know you live right next door. You could have pulled into your own driveway.”
He shrugged. “I see a lady to her door.”
Vanity was about to get out but hesitated. “I admit I’m not used to the Southern charm. I’d heard of it, but are all men down here like you?”
He captured her fingers, and heat flared from her tips and all the way up her arm. The pounding in her chest deafened her, so she hoped he didn’t hear it. Where was the familiar calm, the ability to be unfazed by whatever a man said? All that had ever been necessary was to decide if he warranted sleeping with. Most of the men she met made their aim clear right away, and then the two of them went from there, or didn’t. Owen said nothing beyond wanting to know her better, but would he kiss her on the first date?
She peered across at him and couldn’t help noticing the shape of his lips. They looked like they tasted good, and the way he carried himself gave her the impression he knew how to kiss well. That might be her attraction making her hopeful.
“Southern men know how to appreciate a woman,” he said. “However, I am special.”
She raised an eyebrow. “You think so?”
He leaned toward her. Vanity caught her breath.
“Would you like to test me out?”
Hell to the yes. “I-I’m not sure.”
“Then when you are…” He raised her fingers and kissed the tips, then stepped out of the car to go around and open the door. Vanity sat there dazed. He wasn’t going to kiss her. He really wasn’t.
She got out and stood before him, and he led the way her door. Vanity started to dig for the key Aunt Ella had given her, but Owen turned the knob. As usual it wasn’t locked, and Vanity swore. That woman.
“Lock up,” he told her as he started away.
“I will.” At least he had sense. “Good night.”
“Good night, beautiful Vanity.” Owen hopped into his car and drove off down the street rather than enter his house. She wondered where he was heading this time of night when all the stores must be closed. With her heart still fluttering, she turned and headed inside. Going out with Owen could not happen again.
Chapter Three
“Eggs, milk, sugar…”
“Aunt Ella, you have a five-pound bag at home. You don’t need any more.” Vanity took the package her aunt had just dropped into the cart and put it back. Today Aunt Ella wore a loose-fitting dress that extended to one inch above the floor. The colorful flowered pattern could be seen from the Hubble, and when Vanity had asked the woman why she wore two different belts, she had been told, “because I couldn’t decide, so why limit myself.” Vanity recognized an argument loss when she saw one developing and let the conversation drop.
“Oh well, you know my mind,” her aunt chirped and continued along the aisle. Vanity followed at her leisure, checking the messages on her phone. For some reason, she couldn’t stop hoping to get a text from Owen. She told herself it didn’t matter since she decided never to go out with him again, but that reasoning didn’t work.
“Ms. Williams, I thought that was you,” an unfamiliar voice called out. Vanity glanced over her shoulder and realized the woman speaking wasn’t talking to her but to her aunt.
To Vanity’s surprise, her aunt seemed less than pleased to see the younger woman. Aunt Ella liked everyone and chitchatted like they were all best friends for years, even if she’d just met the person. “Melinda, how are you?”
“I’m good.” The woman sashayed over. She must be a size zero, Vanity guessed, and her teased hair probably wouldn’t move in a hurricane. The tattoo on her forearm with a heart and Owen written in the center brought her identity home. Vanity took a closer look—wide gray eyes and short cute nose, couldn’t be more than one hundred ten pounds if that, and wearing a minidress with boots in early winter. “I’m down here taking care of some business, and I thought I’d stop by Owen’s.”
“Well, you know Jamie’s out your way since your parents live down the street from his parents.”
Vanity shifted from one foot to the other, grinding her teeth.
Melina slapped Aunt Ella’s arm. “I know that, of course. Just wanted to see my baby’s daddy. You know we’re on again off again so often.”
And my time to go. Vanity started to walk off, but she couldn’t help hearing her aunt’s response.
“That can’t be, Melinda, because I heard you’re dating the man that towed your car last month, and Owen is dating my niece.”
“Aunt Ella!”
“Your niece?” Melinda’s shriek had her beat by a few decibels. “Who? Her?”
Vanity eyeballed the woman. “You don’t have to worry about it. Owen and I don’t have anything going on. He’s my aunt’s neighbor, and I’m visiting from out of town.”
“Like I was worried?” Melinda flipped hair from her shoulder. “I’ve known Owen since we were both in elementary. He’s not interested in…your type.”
Vanity took a step closer to the woman. “What type are you referring to?” Before Melinda could answer, Vanity’s cell phone rang. She peered at the screen. Speak of the devil, and there he appeared. Just for spite, she stabbed the connect button. “Hello?”
“Having a bad day?” His cheerful tone grated.
“Just busy. We’re at the grocery store right now. Aunt Ella feels three million cookies aren’t enough to last until New Year’s.”
“Hm, your words are pleasant enough, but I feel a distinct chill.”
His tone sent chills of another type racing over her body and made her want to pretend this whole issue was a misunderstanding, but with Melinda glaring at her, ignoring the evidence would be a mistake.
“Melinda, we are very busy,” Aunt Ella said. “We will see you later, okay? Merry Christmas and Happy New Year if we don’t see you before then.”
“Melinda?” Understanding seemed to dawn on Owen. “What did she say, Vanity?”
“I’m sure that’s not my business, Owen.” After she was satisfied with Melinda’s shocked expression hearing his name, Vanity directed Aunt Ella’s cart in the opposite direction without a backward glance. She disconnected the call and put her phone on silence before stuffing it into her purse.
Aunt Ella linked her arm with Vanity’s as they walked. “Now, darling, you can’t listen to her. She’s just a jealous thing, always trying to get Owen back, when it was she who cheated on him. He’s such a good man too. Doesn’t make sense.”
“Aunt Ella, please don’t gossip about Owen. I’m not interested. I came down here to visit with you, and that’s all.”
“But you shouldn’t listen to Melinda. You can’t spend your life not trusting people, Vanity. It’s not healthy, and how can you have children of your own someday if you don’t let a man into your heart?”
Vanity sighed. “I get what you’re saying, and maybe it’s not fair to judge Owen based off that woman. Anyone could see she’s catty.”
“Right.”
“Still, it doesn’t matter. Like I said. I’m not here for him. End of story. Now, let’s finish shopping. There’s a program I want to watch, and I forgot to DVR it.”
“Vanity.”
“I’m sorry, Aunt Ella. I won’t see him again. I don’t need to believe he’s a good man or otherwise. He’s your neighbor, not mine.” With that, Vanity went to locate the spice aisle.
* * * *
Vanity had been up half the night unable to sleep, and had only dropped off after five. Ignoring the fact that her hair was all over her head and she still wore her nightgown, she left her room looking for coffee.
“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.”
Vanity squeaked in alarm at the deep voice and looked up to find Owen blocking her path. She punched his arm. “Idiot, you scared me.”
He grinned. “Sorry. Coffee?”
He h
eld up a steaming cup of joe. Only after she gratefully accepted it and took a sip did she remember her state of undress. “Oh, hell!” She spun on her heel ready to jet back to her room, but he grabbed her arm.
“Easy. You’ll burn yourself.” Owen nabbed the cup. “I’ll hold onto this until you come back.”
“Why are you even here?” she grumbled but didn’t stop to listen. She let him take the cup and escaped to slam the bedroom door behind her. Heart hammering, she surveyed herself in the mirror. Just great, her hair looked worse than she thought, and one of the strings on her nightgown had torn off at some point. She’d meant to buy a new one. “I’m not seeing him again, so what he thinks about me doesn’t matter.”
Vanity showered and selected tight jeans and sweater to pair with her high-heel boots. She wrangled her hair into order and stepped from her bedroom. Aunt Ella padded from the kitchen holding the cup of coffee Owen had given Vanity earlier. “Oh, morning, darling. Where are you off to?”
“Nowhere. Just puttering around the house.”
Aunt Ella’s eyes widened. “Like that? Shoot, I refuse to take off my nightgown today. Gas kept me up all night.”
Vanity wrinkled her nose. “TMI, Aunt Ella.”
She passed by her aunt and walked into an empty kitchen. Owen had disappeared. Rather than give in to temptation and ask her aunt about him, Vanity went about making a fresh cup of coffee. Frickin’ lying men.
“What’s that about lying?”
She jumped and dropped the jar she held onto the floor. Coffee granules scattered everywhere. Vanity swore. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people, damn it!”
Owen bent to clean up the mess. “I’m sorry. Let me help get this up. I ran home to grab a few things. Looks like Ella swiped your coffee. I’ll have you some more made in a minute.”
“Don’t bother.” She dropped into a chair and watched him sweeping the floor and tossing the cracked jar into the trash. His arm muscles flexed each time he swept the broom over the floor. Vanity’s lust for the man annoyed the hell out of her. “What things did you forget?”
Can't Buy Your Love Page 2
