Bootscootin' and Cozy Cash Mysteries Boxed Set (Books 1-6)

by Scott, D. D.

  Maybe she’d been wrong, she thought. I didn’t need anyone — ‘til you.

  Jules returned his affection with a soulful desire she didn’t recognize but was willing to explore. She could kiss him forever and never need anything more.

  Chapter Seven

  Cody dislodged a grocery cart from the jumbled corral and headed for the produce.

  Checking his Blackberry, he realized he didn’t need any emergency stock-ups from that section.

  And it was an emergency shortage when he bought grocery-store produce. But, whenever he was in the store, he checked prices. And based on what he saw, price-wise plus the horrific condition of what was available in the bins, he was forever thankful he grew his own fruits and vegetables.

  But he was also pleased to note what he could charge if and when he opened his own market. He could undercut this kind of competition and still beat the hell outta their measly-looking offerings.

  How could people buy this stuff? Let alone eat it?!

  And wow, add-in the chemicals to keep this crap supposedly “fresh”. No wonder people were always sick.

  He surveyed the goods enjoying a misty bath under the store’s sprinkler system and chuckled.

  Thanks to Tulip’s influence, he’d never again look at fruits and vegetables the same way. Now, all he noticed were the phallic shapes and penis food potential.

  Laughing out loud, he couldn’t ignore the ideas conjured up by her impromptu sex education lectures.

  Although he wasn’t certain Nashville had room for another market, Music City definitely didn’t have a place to procure agricultural aphrodisiacs.

  He could provide that niche market — giving all new meaning to “produce”.

  Yeah — he could be way “ahead” of the game.

  Provide “stiff” competition.

  Play “hard” ball.

  Remain “upbeat” about his future.

  And “rise” to the occasion.

  As he stopped at the celery bin, tacky taglines continued “coming”.

  Tearing a bag from the dispenser above the bin, he perused the stalks. He’d forgotten about the new recipe he wanted to try for Jules and wasn’t sure he had enough celery left to make it.

  “Better get yourself a couple more stalks, dear,” Tulip advised with her breathy, Barbara Streisand like voice, better-suited for a nine hundred gig than a produce advisor. “Celery is the number one vegetable for men’s sexual health.”

  “Whatever the doctor says,” Cody said, more than willing to buy extra.

  With her sultry voice, it was no wonder the woman got people to talk about sex.

  “So how’s Music City treating you, Tulip?”

  “I love it here.” An ornery sparkle in her eyes served as confirmation.

  “We love having you here.” Cody worked his way from the celery to the avocados.

  “I see you’re going for the fruit of the testicle tree.” Tulip dropped her bifocals lower on the bridge of her nose and took a good look at the selection offered.

  “Excuse me?” Cody asked, almost afraid to seek clarification, but too intrigued not to.

  The woman was a non-stop phallic encyclopedia.

  “Ancient tribes referred to the avocado tree as the testicle tree,” she explained, rotating an obscenely large, crinkled specimen in her hand.

  “Gotcha,” Cody said, at a loss how to expand on their screwball conversation.

  “So what’s new with you?” Tulip added a few avocados to her basket while fishing for information.

  Fishing was okay with Cody. He took her bait then cast his own line.

  “Actually I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, hoping to reel in her expert opinion. “I want to talk to you about aphrodisiacs.”

  Tulip leaned over her shopping basket then looked around to see if anyone was within earshot.

  “Now don’t feel awkward, many men your age need help,” she said in a hushed tone.

  “No. No.” Cody sputtered between coughs. “It’s nothing with me. I’m good. I’m thinking about opening a fruit and vegetable market. Using aphrodisiacs as a sales tool might set me apart.”

  “Oh — oh — I see,” she said, apparently letting the idea percolate. “That’s a fabulous concept. Uplifting. Ballsy. If you know what I mean.”

  Cody laughed. “Yeah. The idea has left me anything but short on euphemisms.”

  “Good one,” she said, her eyes remaining distant as if still pondering the prospects far into their future. “I could definitely help you with this. Let me get together some books and papers. I’ll drop them by the diner this week.”

  “Oh, no! Not the diner.”

  Cody fiddled with a crack in the child seat of his cart, debating how much to tell her. Well, she was a therapist. What did he have to lose?

  “My family doesn’t know about my plans. It’s not that I won’t tell them. Just not until I’ve decided for sure.”

  “Ahhh. No problem, honey.” Tulip patted his hand as if she were comforting a child frightened by a thunderstorm. “I’ll just set the stuff out for you at Jules’ house. Will that work?”

  “That would be great. Thank you.”

  Tulip had to think he was a gutless wonder, Cody thought. But he couldn’t take a chance on hurting his mom and Grams even more, especially with his dad running out on them too. He had to figure out a way to minimize the grief he’d cause leaving the diner.

  “So I hear you made a killer pizza last night.” Tulip’s conspiratorial tone and raised eyebrows indicated she expected additional information.

  “I take it Jules enjoyed the evening then?”

  Two could go that route, Cody figured, playing her in kind.

  “She did say she had a terrific time. Which I thank you for. She needs that.”

  “I agree. And I plan to see that she gets it.”

  “Good.” Tulip sized him up, a devilish smile spreading from one whopping diamond clad ear to the other. “You know, she does love movies.”

  “She does, huh?” Cody was learning all kinds of useful tips. “What kind?”

  “She’s a sucker for chick flicks and every once in awhile a good dick flick. Oh, and definitely anything James Bond -esque.”

  A dick flick?

  “So what the hell’s a dick flick?”

  First aphrodisiac produce and now Hollywood too? Cody couldn’t wait to hear her definition of this apparently new genre.

  “Oh, haven’t you heard that term? It’s the name for those all-things-male, phallic humor-based comedies like GET HIM TO THE GREEK, HOT TUB TIME MACHINE, and THE HANGOVER,” Tulip rattled off the info, so sure of herself and her description Cody was more than convinced she knew what she was talking about — as usual.

  “Those movies are such huge peeks into the male psyche,” Tulip rolled her hands as if she were cooking-up new therapy exercises for her patients while watching the movie reels in her somewhat messed-up mind.

  “Well, Tulip — my JuJuBee never stops surprising me. I wouldn’t have pegged her for a dick flick kinda gal. But I totally get the James Bond thing,” Cody said. “Our JuJuBee can kick some serious ass.”

  Pride, blended with mischief, lit up Tulip’s pretty face, still a looker, despite her sixty-one years. “Hey. Bond is the perfect blend of enlightened good guy and kick ass hero. Oh, and those gadgets are to die for! You can blame that one on me. I raised her well.”

  “That you did, Q.”

  “Q. I’d never thought of myself in that light. But yes, I’m a kinda Q when it comes to finding techniques, and gadgets too mind you, for all-things-sex! Yes! I like this comparison very much.”

  Oh Boy. Now he had her going. Time to get outta Dodge.

  Cody had more to ask but thought he should play it cool. She was probably already all over Jules about their relationship. He didn’t want to add additional pressure. Jules had enough to deal with, thanks to what Jacques, Sienna and family had already piled on her fancy dessert plates especially if Jacques
was serious about pursuing the Fan Fest gig.

  But Cody did need more on Jules’ lack of confidence regarding her sexual performance. But how was he supposed to approach that subject? It didn’t matter that the topic was Tulip’s forte. The person suffering was her niece and the woman Cody wanted more than anything he’d wanted in his life. What if Tulip didn’t know about Jacques making Jules feel incompetent as a lover? Cody didn’t want to hurt Jules more by saying too much.

  He pretended to look over the radishes while deciding on a plan. Knowing he should just get out while he still could, he pushed that thought aside wanting to know more about what Jacques had done to Jules.

  “Did Jules ever talk to you about Jacques?” Hopefully this would lead where he wanted to go.

  “Quite a bit. Why?” For the first time since he’d known her, the doc appeared uneasy in the hot seat.

  “No reason in particular.” He examined the heads of radicchio, all of which looked like they’d been there too long. “I dislike the jerk more every time I’m around him.”

  “Your assessment is accurate. Not a good man, I assure you. He hurt Jules a great deal, and I won’t let him do it again.” Tulip’s voice took on a battle-hardened tenacity.

  “You don’t have to worry about that, Doc. I’ve got her back.” Cody gave up on the radicchio and tried to compose his cluttered thoughts. “But I am concerned about the damage he did to her self-esteem. She’s so sure of herself in the kitchen but has no idea how stunning she is as a woman.”

  “Prove it to her, Cowboy. Show her the desirability she doesn’t know she has. Make her believe in the love she thinks will always be taken from her.” Tulip tossed radishes in the air as if she had no qualms she’d catch every one. Sure of herself and steadfast in her advice.

  Maybe he could make Jules believe in love. He wanted to. But how? How do you show someone they need love when they no longer believe in it?

  “The holidays are coming up, and it’s Jules’ favorite time of year. She takes after me that way too.” Tulip looked at Cody, her large brown eyes reaching out to his soul. “I’m afraid with the Cruz wedding, she won’t take time to celebrate the season’s magic.”

  “So movies — chick or dick flicks, James Bond, and Christmas trees, right?” Cody took out his Blackberry and entered all three options.

  “That should do it. And you know — evergreen trees are the herbal equivalent of Viagra.” Tulip motioned for him to lean closer. “They stimulate the genitals.”

  “Interesting.”

  He’d be putting up more than one tree this year. Hell, maybe he’d volunteer to help Jules decorate her home too.

  “Perhaps the market could double as a Christmas tree stand during the holidays.”

  “Now you’re using your head,” Tulip said, erupting into laughter.

  Cody joined her, amazed by her wit.

  “Thanks for your help and the laughs. You’re terrific, Tulip. Just like Jules.”

  He gave her a hug and pushed his cart down the aisle, leaving the aphrodisiacs with their queen.

  To her credit, Tulip had sure got his mind going with ideas to help Jules have some fun. But damn, he was certainly no expert at enjoying life. To be honest, he was lousy at it and could use the downtime too.

  Just like Grams and his mom, he’d learned from the time he was old enough to join his grandpa in the fields that there was work to do that couldn’t wait ‘til sun-up the next day. Once he’d started cooking at the diner after school and on weekends, he’d kept that strong ethic, leaving little time for play.

  He never regretted the long days he spent cultivating Mother Earth. He loved farming. The diner was a different thing, bearing no joy like that he found in the fields. But The Lunchbox was the only link he had to his family, who basically lived between its tin shack walls.

  Although that dynamic had taken an unexpected direction two months ago when his dad had up and walked out on all of ‘em.

  Thinking about it prodded and pounded Cody’s soul as if he were tenderizing himself instead of the next bunch of brisket.

  The man didn’t so much as leave a note. One day he was there. The next he wasn’t.

  So unlike him. Or was it?

  Had all the times he’d disappeared for a day or two in the past been preparations for him to leave them now for good?

  Cody’s hands tightened around the plastic covering the cart handle. He used to think he knew his dad but not anymore.

  A grown man himself, Cody should be able to take the pain, but some days he wore it better than others.

  How a man could walk out on the woman he loved after the forty years of hell he’d put her through was something Cody would never understand.

  But his mom refused to discuss it, promising she would when she was ready.

  Cody loved her too much, respected her too much for the sacrifices she’d made to give him a great childhood despite his dad’s frequent absences, to push the issue. Although when she was ready to talk, Cody would be there for her like she’d always been for him. Like his dad never had been for either one of ‘em or his Grams too.

  Cody kicked the back wheels of his cart.

  Was he any better of a man than his old man?

  As soon as he found the right building to house a market, he would walk out on Grams, his mom and the diner their hearts, hands and souls had worked into a dining room full of fried food and feel-good hospitality.

  ‘Til today, he’d always thought of himself as the exact opposite of his dad’s image. But he mirrored him now more than ever. The reflection rocked his beliefs in who’d he’d become. A tremor jolted his soul, shaking up all he thought was unshakeable.

  He pounded his fist against the cart handle.

  Dammit.

  Grams probably knew where his dad was. She had to. He was her only son. And she loved him. Even though she was madder than hell at him for leaving Midge who’d she long since adopted as a daughter. Grams still always stuck up for the son of a bitch and made excuse after excuse for his piss-poor behavior.

  Maybe if Cody found out where he was then went after him, he could convince him to come home.

  Why hadn’t he thought of this before?

  Cody pushed the cart to the dairy aisle with an added zip, sure he’d hit on a solution. He just had to work his dad’s whereabouts out of Grams then find time to get out of town while still keeping his commitments to Jules for the Cruz nightmare.

  Yeah. So much for simple.

  Unfortunately, though, unlike the unstoppable, bull in the china shop Jules, Cody always feared going after what he wanted, although he did take some comfort in being a little more realistic about picking projects with greater chances for success. Versus Jules who seemed to always go for broke.

  But Cody wasn’t going to play it safe. Not this time. He couldn’t hold back waiting for rational thinking, calculated risks, sure things. He had to get his head out of his ass or spend his life wondering ‘what if’. And ‘what if’ Jules’ full of balls approach was the way to go? Perhaps not just the best option but his only option? Did he have the cajones to conquer his fears?

  Opening the dairy case to retrieve a gallon of milk, he heard the voice that twisted his gut into a tightrope no matter the words spoken.

  “Fancy findin’ you in the grocery store.”

  Sienna’s southern sweet voice provided a cover for the alley cat she was, an alley cat on the prowl with claws sharpened.

  “I was just fixin’ to call that cupcake lady mom hired to give her some of my ideas for my bridal shower.”

  “She’s not a cupcake lady, Sienna,” Cody said, hardly able to pronounce the words through his clenched teeth. “She’s a culinary-schooled pastry chef. And you know that.”

  “I think I did hear that somewhere. Probably from Jacques.”

  “Normally, I’d advise against listening to that dick. But he got it right this time,” Cody said, willing his mind to continue fighting the pain punching his gut.


  “Like I’d take or need your advice,” Sienna said then showcased the haughty pout he despised.

  “You never did listen. Thus why it’s not me walking you down the aisle.”

  “Are you ever going to get over that?”

  Cody shivered and not from the cold air inside the dairy case he’d forgotten and left wide open. The memory of Sienna revealing more skin than any pinup-inspired pics in Playboy history chilled him.

  “What part of my future wife releasing online shots of parts of her I hadn’t even seen yet should I be over by now?”

  “Why can’t you believe me that those photos were supposed to be exclusive, one-time-only shots just for you. I had no idea they’d end up bringing the price they did and launch my career.”

  Cody could still see Sienna pool-side. Martini in hand. An x-rated, playmate princess in the making. Her red, barely-there bikini gliding over curves he no longer found desirable. She’d broken the news to him that night — the night before their wedding.

  “You made your choice, Sienna, the day you sold those photos. You sold us with them.” Cody slammed a milk jug into his cart.

  The frown on her face may have been supposed to show remorse, but Cody wasn’t buying its authenticity. Nothing about Sienna was real. Maybe at one time, but not anymore. She’d sold out. Stomping on his heart as if he were an unfortunate ant in the way and consequently speared by her sharp, killer heels.

  “I’m sorry I hurt you.”

  “No, you’re not sorry. You don’t feel for anyone except yourself. I’m just glad I found out before I married you. You sure had me fooled.”

  “You’ll never understand me, Cody. I’m not the heartless opportunist you make me out to be.”

  Sienna wrapped the string from the hood of her sweatshirt around her pinky finger.

  Yeah. She almost looked serious. But Cody wasn’t buying it like the sleazy outfit that bought Sienna’s photos.