Sweet Talk Me

by Kieran Kramer

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Harrison might have his flaws, but one thing he’d never done was lie to himself. He had feelings for True that had never gone away. He’d been sure he had it all under control, but he didn’t. Last night at the dance had been a close call.

  He had to leave town, or stop the wedding.

  All night long he thought about what he would do. Cursed a blue streak in his head. Tossed and turned. But when the sun came up, the plain and simple truth came clear. He had to go. Stopping the wedding was a dumb idea. He’d only bring True heartache if he tore her away from Dubose a second time. She wasn’t the innocent girl she was on prom night. She was a survivor—a smart woman making her own choices. Who was he to interfere with that?

  And the kicker was that even if he did stop the damned wedding, he wouldn’t know what to do with her once she was free. He had feelings for her, yes. But that wasn’t enough. She needed tending, like a beautiful, prized rose. He’d be the gardener from hell, leaving her to find sunshine and rain where she could.

  So he was going to leave. But before he did, he’d help her pull off this wedding. She didn’t have a father to walk her down the aisle. He sure didn’t feel fatherly toward her, but she deserved to have a man in her corner who cared about her, supported her, and was willing—in the end—to let her go where she truly wanted to be.

  And if that was with Dubose, he had no right to object.

  Especially when he was Mr. Hotshot Country Music Star with a huge career and a manager and a studio waiting for him to pay attention to the Billboard charts again. He wasn’t that young boy on the dock anymore, catching blue crabs in a net. Now he was scooping up CMA awards and Grammys. It was nice coming back and checking on the home place, seeing all the people he used to know, but he didn’t belong. He wasn’t sure that he ever had.

  Dan called while he was in the shower. He wrapped a towel around his middle, stuck the phone to his ear, opened the bathroom door to go to his room, and met True in the hall.

  “Hi,” she said, her face pale as a sheet.

  “Hey,” he said, only a little embarrassed. Because she was in a pair of tiny pink polka-dotted shorts and one of those flimsy tees that clung to her boobs.

  Damn, he thought, and stretched it out to two syllables, too—the ultimate expression of male appreciation of the feminine form. Then decided he’d better channel Terence Jones. Terence Jones wouldn’t give a shit about her boobs.

  “You there?” Dan shouted down the line.

  “Yeah, hang on a minute.” Harrison put the phone on his chest and grinned down at True. “Tide’s up. Will you be ready to get on the paddleboards in half an hour?”

  “I told you I’m driving.” She stood tippy-toe on one foot and then the other. Classic True balking. She’d done it on the dock at Sand Dollar Heaven all the time when she didn’t want to jump into the creek. She had a thing about encountering crabs if her foot touched the pluff mud. High tide was the preferred time to swim. It meant she was “safe.” But on a really hot day, if it was only mid-tide, she’d do the toe dance.

  “Come on,” he said. “You need some color before the wedding. You’re looking mighty pale.”

  “I want to be pale. Like Nicole Kidman.”

  “But her kind of pale’s different. You look a little off. You need some sunglow. And face it, you need to get on the water. When was the last time you were out there?”

  Her expression drooped. “Too long,” she said. “I honestly don’t remember.”

  “See? I’m in the same boat.”

  “Hah.”

  “We make terrible landlubbers. We get grouchy if we don’t get on the water at least once a decade. Don’t you think?” He meant it, too. He hadn’t realized until he came back here how well he could think when he was on the water.

  She chewed the inside of her cheek. “I thought that getting grouchy was just us … growing up. Becoming responsible citizens.”

  “Nope. And the truth is, I need to write some songs. Maybe being on the water will help. We can scratch each other’s backs, so to speak.”

  “No.” She was doing everything she could not to look down at his exposed belly. Or his towel.

  “You know what I mean. It’s an expression.” But he was having trouble role-playing that he was Terence. All he could think about was pulling her into his room, putting Honey’s only tiara on her head, and having his way with her.

  She thought some more. “All right. But—”

  “What? Are you worried about crabs? We’re going at high tide. If you fall off the paddleboard—which you won’t—your feet won’t touch the bottom of the creek.”

  “It’s not that,” she said. “It’s just”—she shook her head—“last night … we had an issue. So you have to move out. Not Gage, though. He can stay.”

  Harrison put the phone to his mouth. “Dan, I’ll call you back.” He hit the OFF button, but not before he heard Dan squawking like a chicken.

  True’s gorgeous baby blues were big and troubled.

  “That was Patsy Cline’s fault,” Harrison said gently. “It’s why she’s a legend. You and I both know how hard we’ve worked the past ten years. We have plans. And we’re not going to let anything stop us. Especially feeling sentimental about something that happened long ago.”

  True nodded. “Exactly. I’m glad you get that.”

  “Do I ever,” he said with a self-deprecating grin. “So let’s get this wedding going, shall we? We need a new checklist.”

  “I’ve made one up.” She looked a little more chipper.

  “And if you still want me to move out, I will.” He meant it, too. “The last thing I want is for you to feel stress before the big day.” Terence would say something just like that.

  “Me, either.” She headed to the bathroom. “I’ll think about it,” she said over her shoulder. “We’ve had some fun with you and Gage here. I think it’s good for Weezie. It takes her mind off the wedding. She’s not too keen on it, as you know.”

  “I can help her with that,” Harrison volunteered with a sick feeling in his stomach. He hated the idea of True’s marrying Dubose, too. Hated it so much he nearly told her then and there that no way, no how was he going to stand by while she married the biggest jackass Biscuit Creek had ever produced.

  But then he remembered that she was a grown woman with a good head on her shoulders. She’d have chosen him if she’d wanted him.

  And she hadn’t.

  Lord knows he was sending out vibes right now … if she went wild and pulled off his towel, he wouldn’t object in the least.

  “You already have helped with Weezie, and I thank you.” Her face was too serious, poor thing. She really needed this paddleboarding excursion.

  And a roll in the hay, his treacherous mind added. But that was none of his business.

  “See?” he said. “We’ve got our priorities straight.”

  She granted him a small smile. “I’ll join you in the kitchen in twenty minutes.” She paused. “Are you wearing a bathing suit?”

  “No. I don’t have one. But I wouldn’t anyway. I’m not gonna fall in.”

  “Then I won’t wear one, either,” she said.

  Darn. He wondered if it would have been a one-piece or a bikini.

  Her face brightened. “I forgot to tell you.” She looked furtively around. “Gage and Carmela … are involved,” she whispered. “I’m only telling you in case Gage needs support. Carmela said that he basically told her to go home, afterward”—she winced, probably because she was making it clear exactly how far they’d gone—“and said he’d never text or call her.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  True shook her head. “I know he said that because he thinks he’ll be overwhelming her. He didn’t mean to hurt her feelings.” She paused. “I might have said more than I should.”

  “No, I’m glad you told me.” He liked how she assumed Gage was a good guy—which he was. “He told me he really likes her. He’s not a kid,
so I’m not gonna get in the way. I’ll hint around, but if he doesn’t bring it up himself, there’s not much I can do.”

  “That’s fair,” she said.

  Harrison sighed. “Carmela’s a good girl. I hope this works out.”

  In his room, he flung off his towel and called Dan in the buff. “I’m naked,” he said.

  “Oh, gross. Put something on, will ya?”

  Harrison chuckled. “Nope. It means you’ll say what you have to say and then leave me alone. How can I write songs with you bugging me?”

  He folded his free arm across his chest and peeked out his window at the tomato fields. An early-morning mist was already being burned off by the sun. It was going to be a hot one today.

  “This is bugging you?” Dan said. “A few calls here and there?”

  “Yes. Don’t forget—I’m naked.”

  “All right, all right! They want you on that singing competition show as a judge. You know that one you especially like?”

  “Yes,” said Harrison, his wet hair dripping down his neck. “Is there some reason we’re not using the name?”

  “It’s kind of like saying Voldemort. You just don’t want to jinx things. Are you interested? This would catapult your career to the next level.”

  “I’ve been catapulting for ten years. How many levels are there?”

  “More. I promise you. The exposure you’ll get here will make you more mainstream than ever. That translates into a huge bump in sales. And hey—you’ll be on a panel with some great stars in their own right. That should be fun for you. I know you like fun.”

  Harrison sighed. “Are you reading that off an index card?”

  “Yes, but because you’re naked, I edited out the entire middle about how much you’ll love spending more time on the West Coast.”

  Harrison scratched his neck. “I’m interested,” he said, and was surprised he didn’t feel tremendously excited. “What does the studio say?”

  “They’re willing to go with it. As long as you honor your commitments to them in a timely fashion. Which means you’ll be juggling a lot of balls.”

  “We’ll talk about it soon. I’ll stew on it for a few weeks.”

  “We don’t have that luxury. The show producers need an answer this week.”

  “No, they don’t. You know the pressure game deal makers play. Handle it.”

  “I am handling it. And I’m telling you that they’re not messing around. The network honchos want to fill the slot now and get the PR campaign rolling. I can’t take on the entire network, buddy. They’ve got plenty of people lined up to take your slot. Do you want to risk losing it?”

  “I’ll think it over. I gotta go. And Dan?”

  “Yes?”

  “I’ll call you.”

  “For the love of—”

  Harrison hung up again. Focus on True. At least for the next few hours. Now was not the time to think about his career. And after he helped True out, he was heading to the construction site to check on that. He made a quick call to Vince to give him a heads-up.

  “We’re making tremendous progress already,” Vince said. “We’ve got the footings poured. The concrete columns are up, and brick masons are covering them today. The beams are in. We’ll be framing the floor this afternoon and tomorrow.”

  “Great job. Can’t wait to see it.”

  In the kitchen, Gage was in his running clothes and making pancakes for everyone. True and Weezie’s mouths were full, and they were already slicing through their stacks to cram in another bite, just in case they disappeared somehow.

  Which they might. The dogs were staring at their plates with devoted concentration.

  “Want to head over to the house site with me this afternoon?” Harrison poured himself a cup of coffee and peered over Gage’s shoulder.

  “I’d be foolish not to,” Gage replied, stiffer than ever, “as I’m investing in it.”

  Damn. He was obviously smarting from what had happened between him and Carmela. Either that, or Harrison had made a huge mistake interfering in his brother’s life. “Hey—you don’t have to spend a dime on this project. I’m happy to cover it.”

  Gage flipped over five pancakes in the pan. “No, thank you. I made a commitment.”

  Yeah, he did. And Harrison felt like shit about it. “All right,” he said carefully. “Maybe when you see it, you’ll get excited.”

  Gage didn’t answer. Just walked to the table and laid a stack of pancakes on Harrison’s plate. They looked beautiful: fluffy and steaming. With a nice dollop of butter and a swirl of Aunt Jemima syrup, they were the perfect breakfast.

  They went down like cardboard.

  Weezie told everyone she had plans for the day and would be back at dinner. Gage drifted off to his room to work on a puzzle.

  “What kind of plans, Weezie?” True sat up on the alert.

  “The driver who picked up a bushel of tomatoes for that restaurant in Charleston asked me out to lunch.” Weezie giggled. “We have a lot in common.”

  “He did?” It was obvious from the level of panic in True’s voice that her sister hadn’t had a dating life up to this point.

  Weezie nodded. “No big deal. We’re going to stick around Biscuit Creek. I told him the Starfish was really good. And then we might shop on Main Street.”

  True’s mouth hung half open. “I’d like to meet him first.”

  Weezie’s brow furrowed. “It’s too late for that.”

  “You should have thought of that before you said yes.”

  “He’s not an ax murderer.” Weezie picked up her plate and took it to the sink. She turned on the hot water in preparation to do the breakfast dishes. “He’s just a guy. He’s a sophomore at the College of Charleston.”

  “Does he have a major yet?” True asked.

  “I think it’s psychology.” Weezie was breezy as she squirted some dishwashing liquid into the water.

  “Just make sure you have your phone with you,” Harrison said, “in case you need to touch base.”

  “But we won’t be here,” True said.

  “Gage will.” Harrison tried to sound calm and reasonable.

  “I’ll be fine.” Weezie looked over her shoulder at True. “It had to happen someday.”

  “What?” True said, distractedly rubbing behind one of the Lab’s ears.

  “My dating.” Weezie turned back to the sink. “When a woman blossoms, men take notice. She’s like a flower. That’s what this book on sex says. It was pretty good. I found it at the library.”

  True put her hand over her eyes. “Please, don’t say that. Especially not to him. What’s his name?”

  “Stephen Tyler, like the rock star, but with a PH, not a V. And he’s very nice. Please don’t Google him.”

  “Well, we don’t want Stephen Tyler,” True said with all sorts of reluctance, “to get the idea that you’re ready to be … plucked.”

  Harrison had to restrain a chuckle. “I agree with your sister, Weezie. Let this date be a chance for you to evaluate Stephen and not the other way around. Let him do the work, okay? You just enjoy the compliment of being noticed.”

  Weezie wiped down her plate with gusto. “Good idea, Harrison. You’d make a great brother. I wish—”

  Harrison sent her The Look. The don’t-forget-what-we-talked-about look.

  Weezie shut her mouth just as True stood, almost knocking her chair over, and brought her plate to the sink. “I know you’ll be careful,” True said. “Don’t bring him in the house. And if he acts fresh in the car or starts driving you out of town—”

  “He’s not going to do that,” Weezie said.

  “Slap him,” True went on doggedly, “and get the hell out of the car. I don’t care if you have to stop, drop, and roll. Just—”

  “True,” Harrison said. “It’s time to go.”

  She sighed, gave Weezie a big hug, and she and Harrison walked out the front door.

  The woman needed this expedition. Boy, did she ever.

&nbs
p; A few minutes later, they’d carried their paddleboards out to the dock to set them in the creek. Harrison wished he’d never eaten breakfast at all. It was like he had a rock in his stomach. This house issue was putting a barrier up between him and Gage. Maybe he should have stayed out of it. But that trailer … Gage had been in a definite rut, just as True had said the first night they arrived at Maybank Hall. And what were brothers for but to get you out of one?

  “Don’t worry about Gage,” True said. “He’ll come around.”

  As usual, she read him well. “I hope so.”

  “If he works things out with Carmela, she’ll be a really good influence on him.”

  “Let’s hope he does.” Harrison slid her board in. “And don’t you worry so much about Weezie. She’s a smart girl.”

  “I know,” True said weakly.

  She lowered herself onto it in a crouching pose, and as he handed her a paddle, he couldn’t help noticing that her thighs were sleek and toned.

  “Thanks.” She stood and wobbled a few seconds before gaining her balance. The water lapped at the edge of the board, but she was in control. Some of the strain left her face. “Wow. This is cool. It feels pretty stable.” She was wearing Sperrys, some cute nylon hiking shorts, and a clingy little tank top. She looked hot without even trying.

  “It should,” he said. “It’s three feet across and ten feet long. It can hold over three hundred pounds, and you’re light as a feather.” He took out his phone. “I gotta get a picture of this. But you have to smile.”

  She faked it at first until he said, “Come on! Don’t be an overprotective sister! Now smile for real, or I’ll knock you in the water.”

  “You wouldn’t!”

  “Yes, I would.”

  She laughed at that. “You’re crazy.”

  “I know.”

  She smiled at him broadly, and his heart zinged around in his chest like a drunken dragonfly. She looked like the old True. Miss Adventurer. He knew this outing was going to be good for her.

  He put his phone in a ziplook bag and stuck it in his shorts pocket. “All righty. We don’t have long to go. The tide’s slowing down, but it’s taking us in the right direction.”

  She put her paddle in the water and moved slowly away from the dock. Harrison got on his board without a problem and followed. They floated down a small inlet that they’d follow out between borders of marsh grass on either side to the big water.