by Josie Kerr
“That’s it?”
“I mean, I guess. We’ve not been seeing each other that long, right? We’ve only had a few dates, and half of those were with the girls.” Tally shrugged a shoulder.
“And how is that—you know, the girls? How is Chloe reacting?”
Tally sprayed some glass cleaner on a towel. “It’s okay. Chloe seems to enjoy the adulation from Lily, and of course, Lily is over the moon with Chloe.” She slowed her wiping. “Chloe is not unhappy with my seeing Rob, but of naturally, she’s sad because it’s pretty apparent that her dad and I won’t be reconciling. I mean, not that she’s said anything, of course, because, you know, Chloe doesn’t share a lot about her feelings.”
“How are you feeling about this?”
“I don’t really know. I mean, I like him. He makes me feel good. I think I make him feel good.” Tally shrugged. “It’s good, you know? It’s nice. I’m . . . open to seeing where it will go. We, uh, we actually talked about it last night, this . . . thing . . . that we seem to have going on.”
Liddie grinned. “Yeah?”
“Yeah. We’re on the same page. It’s good.” She gave her mother a little smile. “It’s good, Mom.”
“So . . . what about Greg? Have you heard from him?”
“God, he’s a mess. He’d been calling, ranting, and I tried to get a telephonic restraining order, but that didn’t go through—stop, okay? No need to get all wound up. Billie Lanier said she’d work another angle with another judge.”
“Tallulah, I don’t like—”
“Mother, it’s being handled, okay?” Tally served her mother a pointed look, and Liddie snapped her mouth shut. “Everything is under control. And besides, Rob’s got a lot on his plate with the fire and everything, so who knows what’s going to happen.”
“Fire?”
“Oh, you actually didn’t hear about the fire at the vineyard, then?” Tally proceeded to tell her mother about the fire at the Owl Creek Orchards and Vineyards, Liddie’s eyes growing larger and larger the more details Tally shared.
“Oh my goodness—oh, that is so scary. Just imagining waking up to that gives me the vapors.” Liddie fanned herself with her hand. “Thank goodness they’re all right.”
Tally nodded and finished rearranging the intact glassware so the shelf wouldn’t look so bare, at least until Bunny and Ace decided what new pieces would be displayed. Her mind wandered back to Rob and Lily, the fire, and the discussion they had the previous evening before they’d gotten sidetracked by sexy times.
“You like him a lot.” Liddie was grinning knowingly at her. “Like, a lot.”
“Yeah, I do.” Her phone rang and she glanced at the caller ID. “Speak of the devil. Hey, Rob. We were just talking about you.”
His rumbly laugh made her toes curl, even over the phone. “I need to run some syrup by Saffy’s and thought I might pick you up for a late lunch. Or bring by a snack? Or coffee? Or maybe just come by and see your pretty face?”
“Well, Bunny and Ace are off on a delivery—” Tally began, but Liddie cleared her throat. “My mother is giving me a look that says I’ll be in trouble if I don’t go to lunch with you.”
Rob laughed. “I can just imagine that look. Tell your mom ‘hi’ and ‘thank you,’ and I’ll see you in half an hour or so?”
“Sounds good.”
“Okay, darlin’. See you in a bit.”
“See ya.” She clicked the phone off and chuckled to herself, forgetting her mother was even in the room.
“Whoo, you are a smitten kitten.” Liddie kissed her daughter’s cheek. “Have fun with this, but not too much fun, okay?”
“Oh my God, Mom. Chloe already gave me the ‘are you being safe?’ speech today. I don’t need it again.” Liddie gave her a sly look, and Tally flushed. “Mom! Stop!”
Then she laughed because she was definitely planning on having some fun.
Rob pulled into the parking lot of the Goat Waggle boutique to find Saffy in the middle of the front lawn with Tom Petty, the turkey, sitting as much as he could in her lap. Both she and the turkey were staring into a phone, and Rob wasn’t sure if she was filming or showing the giant fowl a movie—he never knew with Saffy.
He turned off the truck, grabbed the box of muscadine jellies and syrups and made his way across the yard. It wasn’t until he was within a few feet of her that he noticed her face was puffy from crying and she was indeed cradling a thirty-pound turkey in her lap.
“Hey, Saffy, I brought your order over,” he said.
“Oh, thank you, Rob. Hold on.” Saffy whispered in the turkey’s ear—did turkeys even have ears?—before gently nudging the bird from her lap and scrambling up. She took a deep breath and gave Rob a watery smile. “Sorry about all—”
“No worries.”
Saffy held out her arms for the box, but Rob hesitated. “Are you okay, Saffron?”
She nodded. “I just got some unexpected news. Well, it’s not exactly unexpected, but rather, I was hoping that it would never come to pass. Anyway, I’ll take that, and you can be on your way to wherever it is you’re off to.” Then she froze. “Oh my God, Rob—I am such a dolt. There was a fire! All your trees and vines! And the mash house!”
He shrugged. “I’m not gonna lie—the fact that all the mash for the latest whiskey run is gone is gonna hurt this season, but, hell, it could have been a lot worse. I’m just going to count my blessings right now and keep on keepin’ on.”
“You are the most positive person I’ve ever met.” Rob could see her swallow hard. “How do you do it, Robbie Mac? How do you keep going?”
“There’s no other choice; you just have to do it. I mean, look at you. If something happened to the B&B, you wouldn’t just throw up your hands, would you? What would happen to the Muses, and to Tom Petty, and Jasper? It’s not like you’d just abandon them.”
Saffy’s gaze hardened. “You know what? You’re right. I wouldn’t do that to them. I couldn’t do that.” She straightened her shoulders. “Thank you, Robbie Mac. This is just what I needed to hear. Now gimme that box.”
“You sure? It’s awfully heavy . . .”
“Rob.” Saffy arched an eyebrow at him.
“Yes, ma’am.” Rob placed the box in Saffy’s arms, and she nodded at him.
“Good boy. Now get. I’ll see you later.” Saffy turned and made her way to the porch of Goat Waggle, Tom Petty following closely behind her.
Rob chuckled as he climbed back into his truck and turned on the engine. He made a mental note to come by and check on Saffy in the next few days because he got the sense that there was a much deeper cause of her melancholy. But now, off to take his girl to lunch.
He had just pulled onto the two-lane highway in front of Saffy’s B&B when a large SUV came around the bend, barreling down on him. Rob pumped the brakes, but the vehicle didn’t slow. In fact, it sped up, close enough to nudge Rob’s back bumper.
“What the—” Rob peered in the rearview mirror. “Oh, crap. Bryson, what the hell are you doing?” he murmured when he saw Chad Bryson’s wild gesturing. “Yeah, I don’t have time for this bullshit.”
Determined to get away from Chad, Rob stepped on the accelerator just as Chad roared up and rammed the back of the truck. The impact jarred Rob, sending his forehead into the steering wheel and causing him to lose control of the truck just long enough to skid off the asphalt and onto the embankment.
Rob sat in his truck, stunned that someone had actually run him off the road. His heart thrummed in his chest, and he was having problems breathing. The thought crossed his mind that he might actually be having a heart attack, which frightened him even as it pissed him off. Rob gripped the steering wheel and closed his eyes, concentrating on calming down.
In, out, in, out.
A loud crash reverberated through the truck, and Rob opened his eyes in time to see a red-faced, grimacing Chad Bryson swinging a golf club at his head. Fortunately, the window was rolled up, so Rob avoided taking a 9-iron to the face, but the head
of the club penetrated the window, sending cracks radiating like a spider web covering the entire window.
“Get out of the truck, McFerrin!” Chad yelled, continuing to beat the side of the truck with the club. “Be a man and get out of the fuckin’ truck!”
“Not friggin’ likely, Bryson,” Rob retorted from the safety of the truck’s cab. “Put the golf club down and quit acting like a lunatic.”
“Then you’ll get out?” Chad squinted at him. Judging from the way he was swaying on his feet and from his slurred speech, Rob surmised that Chad was completely trashed, which meant that he in no way should be getting back behind the wheel. Now Rob had to figure out how to ensure that Bryson wouldn’t get back in the car and kill himself or someone else, without Rob getting his own head bashed in.
“Put the golf club down, Chad. I mean, like, toss it.”
Chad glared at Rob but did indeed toss the golf club onto the ground. “Happy?”
Rob drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Fuck,” he muttered and then got out of the truck.
“Okay, Chad, let me give you a ride home, and we can talk on the way, all right?”
Chad responded by punching Rob.
“What the hell, Bryson?” Rob rubbed the sore spot on the side of his jaw.
“It’s all your fault! All of it!” Chad ranted. “You and your big-ass mouth! That’s always been the problem!”
“Wha—”
“Oh, Robbie Mac, friggin’ Boy Scout. You and Cal Harper raised more hell in two years than I did in ten.”
“Jesus, Bryson. Is that what this is about? Something that happened almost thirty years ago? Man, get over it. You got the job, the car, the successful law practice. You had the girl until you fucked that—oh. Oh yeah. I get it. This is about Mary-Leland and Tally.”
“This is not about Mary-Leland or Tally,” Chad ground out. “Hell, you didn’t need any hot little college number because Becca was the hot little college number. Any younger and she would have been jailbait, and Lord knows you couldn’t tarnish that ‘reformed bad boy’ reputation you’d spent so much time trying to cultivate.”
“You’re a jackass, Chad.”
“Have you gotten into Tally’s pants yet? Or is she playing hard to get, like she did with me?”
Rob barked a laugh. “Bryson, she wasn’t playing hard to get; she just wasn’t interested.”
Chad’s face, normally ruddy, darkened to a deep crimson, so much so that Rob was now worried that Chad was the one having a heart attack. “Tally Douglas is a cock-teasing cunt.”
“You need to shut your damn mouth,” Rob warned Chad.
“What are you gonna do, huh, McFerrin?” Chad pushed Rob and then got in his space, so close to him they almost touched chests. “Ah, you’ve had her, haven’t you? How is she? She tight? I figure it could go either way, seeing how she is.”
Without another word, Rob put his fist in Chad’s face, and as luck would have it, the county sheriff pulled up right behind Chad’s truck as Rob landed a second punch.
“Robert McFerrin, stand down!” the sheriff barked. “I said, stand down!”
Rob leapt backward, allowing Chad to drop to the ground with a thud.
“Arrest him for assault. Arrest him!” Chad wheezed from his position on the ground.
He held up his hands in surrender for just a moment before balling them into fists in frustration. He knew what this looked like.
“Officer Mendez! Officer Mendez! I saw the whole thing!” Saffy came running from the B&B, followed by her entourage, which consisted of a pygmy goat, a three-legged dog, and a one-eyed cat.
“He”—she pointed at Chad—“rammed into Rob’s truck from the back and forced him off the road. Then he started beating on the truck with a golf club!”
“Who threw the first punch?”
“Chad did,” Saffy exclaimed. “I have it all recorded! Right on my phone!” She held up the phone. “But you can’t keep it—the phone, I mean—because I have, well, never mind. I just need it back soon.”
The sheriff eyed Rob’s destroyed window and the golf club lying on the ground near the truck.
“I only got out to talk to him to make sure he didn’t drive anywhere. He’s wasted, or he was. He was a danger.”
Rob held his breath while Mendez considered his options.
“Mr. Bryson, I’d like you to submit to a field sobriety test,” Sheriff Mendez said to Chad.
“Well, seeing as McFerrin almost knocked me out, I am going to pass. I feel kind of wobbly.”
The sheriff inclined his head. “Then I would like you to blow into the Breathalyzer, Mr. Bryson.”
“Nope, not going to do that either. I decline to be field-tested.”
Another police vehicle pulled up behind the sheriff’s cruiser. “Took you long enough,” Mendez remarked to the newly arrived officer, who Rob thought looked about twelve. “Mr. McFerrin—”
Rob nodded and stepped toward the second cruiser. The two officers had a silent conversation, and then Kid Cop opened the door for Rob, and he got into the back seat. As they pulled away from the scene, Rob saw Chad and Sheriff Mendez having words, and he just shook his head. He knew that Chad would most likely just receive a slap on the wrist, which was frustrating. Now, with the booking, he was probably going to be at the station for hours.
“Fuck!” Rob slammed his fist into the seat. “Sorry. I had plans this afternoon.”
“You can use your phone call,” Kid Cop remarked.
“Yeah, I can do that.” Rob clucked his tongue and stared out the window all the way to the county precinct.
Rob looked pitiful—well, maybe not pitiful, but tired and rumpled—when Tally arrived at the county sheriff’s office to pick him up.
“Oh, Rob,” she said, pulling him into her arms without even thinking. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, I’m good. Sorry that I had to miss our lunch date.” He gave her a squeeze and brushed her hair back from her face.
“Oh, lunch—I bet you’ve not eaten, have you?”
“Vending machine stuff.” He shrugged.
“Why don’t we get you some real food, and we can talk about what happened? How does the Hemlock Creek Tavern sound?”
Rob nodded. “Sounds good.”
Fifteen minutes later, they were sitting side by side in a back booth, sweet tea and entrées in front of them. Rob held her hand, kissed her palm.
“Thank you for picking me up, Tally.”
“Of course, Rob. Of course.”
Rob swiped his hand over his face. “I’m just glad Lily is still with her grandparents. Hopefully, this mess will be mostly sorted by the time she gets back.”
“Yeah.” Tally smiled at him and nodded. “Can you tell me what happened?”
Rob blew out a breath, then began to tell her what happened in between the time he called her to make a lunch date and the time she picked him up at the precinct.
“You punched him?”
Rob held up two fingers.
“You punched him twice?”
“Yeah.” He huffed a mirthless chuckle. “I haven’t punched anyone since I was seventeen.”
“Who did you hit?” He gave her a sly look. “Oh my God. You punched him then, too, didn’t you?”
Rob nodded. “Yep. I did. Felt just as good this time, too,” he said, his face serious for a second before breaking into a sweet smile. “I don’t generally condone physical violence, you know.”
“I know. I don’t, either, especially since . . .” Her voice trailed off.
Rob gave Tally’s hand another squeeze and nodded in understanding.
“So, what’s next? What’s going on with the orchard and everything?”
Rob blew out a breath. “Well, I’m done for in regard to any sort of whiskey or ’shine. The mash went up with the mash house. There’s nothing left to distill. I’ll have to start the mash all over again. And then there’s the still, which I I’m not even sure can be repaired.”
; “Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
“Eh.” Rob gave her a careless shrug, but Tally could see the worry in his eyes. “I’ve been in tighter spots. It’ll all work out. Always has, always will.”
“Yeah?”
Rob laughed, really laughed. “You wanna know what the plan is, don’t you?”
Tally hid her face in her hands. “Yes, I do, because I’m nosy.” She peeked through her fingers to see the ghost of a smile twitching on Rob’s lips. “So? You gonna tell me?”
“I’ll ramp up the apple picking. Maybe put in a proper corn maze if the fields are salvageable. Ramp up the cider and the syrups, too. There’s a flu remedy that uses elderberries that Saffy has been pestering me to partner with her in creating.”
“So, sort of a plan.”
“Yes, a definite maybe of a plan.” He grinned again. “That satisfy you, Miss Nosy?”
“For the time being.”
“Well, I’m not. What time is Chloe due back?”
“Oh, she said she’s going over to the uncles’ and then to the movies with Courtney.”
“Wanna go to your house and fool around?”
“Oh, I let you see me naked once and you invite yourself over?” Tally grinned at him in between looking around for the server to get the check.
Rob held up two fingers. “Twice. I’ve seen you naked twice.”
“Well, Mr. McFerrin. I think we need to even that up.”
´*•.¸(*•.¸ *¸.•*´)¸.•*´
Tally had Rob’s shirt halfway off before they even got inside the lemonade house, and he had his hands burrowed deep in her trousers, underneath her panties, almost inside her.
“Oh, no, no, no, nuh-uh.” Tally wagged a finger at Rob.
“What?” he gasped.
“Two to one, buddy. I wanna see it.”
“Well, shit.”
Rob stripped off his undershirt and was fumbling with the buttons on his jeans, cursing the button-fly design, before Tally took pity on him.
“Slow down, Rob. Okay? Let me help you.” Tally could hear Rob suck in his breath as her hands went to his fly, deftly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling them down over his hips. “Commando? Really?” Tally bit her bottom lip as she opened his fly wider, allowing Rob’s semi-hard erection to spring loose.
