by Lee Kilraine
Glancing at the oven dials confirmed what Jo already knew. It was hard to draw in a breath with the tight squeezing of her heart. Her mother was running out of good days.
“We can have spaghetti and you can heat the chicken up tomorrow,” Jo said.
Her father took charge and dished up plates of spaghetti and managed to keep the conversation going all the way through dinner.
“I’ll do the dishes, Daddy. You go on and help Mama.”
“You hear that June bug? Jolene gave me the night off.”
“That’s very sweet of her. Do I know Jolene?”
She stood at the sink watching her parents walk down the hall, the pain in her chest real and crushing. Like a large metal hand had reached in and ripped her heart out. Fuck Alzheimer’s. Whipping around, she attacked the dishes ferociously, refusing to cry. Her father dealt with this every damn day. He watched the woman he loved fade a bit more every day.
Once she had everything put away and the counters wiped down, Jo moved out to sit on the front porch swing rather than listen to her mother’s pain-filled voice wondering for the millionth time where Darlene was and asking who the nice young blonde was at dinner tonight.
When her father joined her fifteen minutes later, he settled onto the swing with a sigh, and together they watched the evening slip from gray to charcoal. Fireflies blinked throughout the yard and bullfrogs and crickets chorused around them.
“Your mother’s resting.”
“I don’t know how you do it.” Her eyes still stung.
Reaching out, her father squeezed her hand once before letting go. “I have help. You. The visiting nurse. I do the same thing you do: embrace and cherish her good days and make it through the bad ones with the hope of a good day tomorrow.”
Jo wondered, not for the first time, if her sister would come home if she knew about their mother’s failing health. Sadly, she didn’t think so. “Does Darlene even know how much she hurts Mama? And you?”
“Your sister was always a wild child. Even before you two were born. She moved like an Olympic gymnast all through the pregnancy while you barely wiggled a toe. She was a handful as a toddler and a god-awful teenager.” He shrugged as a wry smile slid on his face. “Even though it ripped our hearts out when she left, Darlene was like a wild creature needing to be free.”
It had ripped Jo’s heart out. They may not have gotten along, but they were sisters. Twins. And it had hurt knowing Darlene could so easily cut her out of her life. Because apparently, Jo had lived with the hope that one day they’d understand each other. That one day her sister would stop being so angry and let Jo in.
That day never came. She hadn’t even talked with Jo about leaving. On their sixteenth birthday she’d just left. No good-bye. No explanation. Just gone. Like none of them had mattered to her at all.
Her mother had cried for months. Her father had brooded quietly and worked as much overtime as possible that year. And Jo had felt like she’d lost her whole family.
A postcard arrived six months later. Darlene was dating a drummer and touring from city to city with his band. Over the years, sporadic postcards, occasional requests for money, and rare phone calls let them know she was alive. Married and divorced twice. Pregnant once. Still no visits home. No photos of her or her baby.
“Your sister was born fearless.” Her father shook his head. “As much stress as your sister has brought to this family, I have to give it to her—she’s lived life on her own terms.”
Jo turned her head to study her dad in the waning light of sunset. Was he serious? Her own terms? Her own terms sure had stolen their happiness and peace of mind for years. “Even though Mama’s cried buckets over her every year since?”
“No, I wish we could have avoided that, but you were the yin to your sister’s yang. No matter what shocking thing your sister got into, we could always count on you. You provided the calm stability to your sister’s whirlwind.”
Darlene had called her Little Jolene-two-shoes. Always the good girl. Until a few days ago.
“I need to tell you something before you hear it around town.” Jo sucked in a deep breath, wishing she could put this off to another day. A day they hadn’t received another postcard from Darlene.
“Spill it, baby bean.”
“I got arrested.”
He laughed. Her father looked at her and laughed. He laughed so hard he had to stop and catch his breath and he even smacked his leg.
“I’m not kidding, Daddy.”
“Sure you aren’t.” Her father was still chuckling.
“I did. I broke into the animal shelter and rescued a puppy. Only Officer Davis didn’t see it that way. I didn’t want to worry you and Mom, plus it was three a.m.—so I called Paxton Cates and he helped me. Bailed me out and got the charges dropped except for some community service. I’m sorry. Really, really sorry.” She spit the whole thing out while looking down at her knees. But with the last apology, she finally gathered the nerve to look up. “Why are you still smiling?”
“Because you always try to cheer us up when your sister gets us upset. I appreciate it, kiddo.” Her father grinned at her. One of those cheesy grins, which didn’t make any sense, yet there it was right on his face. “But you’ve never been in trouble a day in your life. I used to joke with your mother that you were the reincarnation of a seventy-year-old church lady.”
Her dad’s comment hurt like a paper cut, quick and surprising. Only seconds ago her daddy was practically puffing out his chest at Darlene, his wild child, yet all Jo got was a laugh at the thought of her doing something crazy. If even Jolene’s own dad laughed at the idea of her doing something wild, then it seemed the joke was on her. It was time to make some changes.
* * *
A seventy-year-old church lady. Jo sat on her couch playing the conversation with her dad through her mind. That had hurt. Not just that her father had said it—but that the more she rolled it around her brain, the more she knew he was right. Had she spent so much effort trying to avoid adding to the turmoil in her parents’ lives—trying to be the good daughter, a good person—that she’d also avoided taking risks and maybe even having fun? Hadn’t Georgie said exactly that? Wasn’t that what her bucket list was all about?
Yes, yes, and yes. Enough was enough. She picked up the stack of papers from her coffee table and read through the contract Paxton had drawn up. Pretending to be his girlfriend would be the wildest thing she’d ever done. Other than breaking in and stealing a puppy of course.
Should she do it? It would be the easiest way to get rid of her guilt about owing Paxton for what he’d done for her. So it made sense. Could she do it? Could she—Stop it, Jojo. Stop it right now. Look at you, overthinking things again. Stop turning it around and looking at all the angles.
Darn tootin’ she could do this, and she’d enjoy it too. Damn it. Darn tootin’ was exactly what a seventy-year-old church lady would say, so it was clear; she had to do this. She was waving good-bye to that church lady.
Not that she planned to break the law again. At least she didn’t think she needed to do that. No, she simply was tired of being the good girl. Tired of being so predictable. Tired of feeling like she was missing out on life. Those parts that gave a person goose bumps and set your pulse pounding. The events and moments she’d look back on and think, now that was a life well-lived.
Jo turned to the page with the empty line just waiting for her signature and signed her name with a flourish. She would absolutely pretend to be Paxton’s girlfriend for six months and start on her bucket list. Why should Darlene be the only one living life on her own terms?
Tapping the papers in her hands on the coffee table to align the edges, Jo enjoyed a surge of satisfaction at her decision. Like she was breaking out of prison. An absolutely self-imposed one, she’d admit, but nonetheless restricting. Jo nodded and grabbed up her purse, her keys, and the papers, deciding to deliver them to Paxton before she chickened out.
Sure enough, when Jo drove
onto Main Street there was still a light burning in Paxton’s law office, and she decided to take that as a sign that she was making the right choice.
She entered his office, pausing to take in the space. It was elegant, with a small seating area of handsome leather furniture sitting opposite his large, sleek desk. Paxton sat leaning back in his chair, talking on the phone while he threw darts across the room into a bulletin board.
His gaze latched on to hers and he went still.
“Would it be all right if we finish this discussion tomorrow? I’ve just discovered something I need to attend to. Great. Tomorrow, then.” Paxton hung up his desk phone, his eyes still glued on Jo. “Always a pleasure, Ms. Joyner. How can I help you?”
“Actually, Mr. Cates, I’m here to help you.” His observant green gaze held her pinned in place. It was the same intent look he used in the courtroom; the one Georgie had wondered about. “I’ve come to the conclusion that I don’t like owing you, so I’ll pretend to be your girlfriend. For six months. Not a day more.”
“Of course not. That’s great.” He got up and walked around his desk until he stood only a few feet in front of her. “Six months is all I should need.”
Remembering she had the contract in her hand, she passed it to him. “I added an addendum. You’ll want to read it over, but I already signed it.”
His face was serious as he flipped through the pages until he found her addition and skimmed it, a smile playing on his lips as he neared the end. “And this is . . . ?”
“A list of the things I’m willing to do with you to establish our reputation as a couple.” She tilted her head to the papers in his hand. “I think it’s best if we set a few parameters at the outset.”
“You do love your lists. Of course we’ll need a little leeway to ad lib some unscripted moments. In the course of six months, there are likely to be a few unforeseen situations that may call for some creativity and straying outside the list’s parameters, would you agree?”
She squinted up at him. High school might have been over a decade ago, but she still remembered Paxton to be tricky and competitive. “A very little bit of leeway, Counselor.”
Grabbing a pen off his desk, Paxton leaned over, scribbling a note below her addendum. She was left staring at his very nice butt until she realized what she was doing and whipped her head away to stare at his various diplomas and awards, richly framed on his walls.
“Here you go.” He stood and handed her the contract to read his addition. “If that proves satisfactory to you, then I’m ready to sign also.”
It seemed straightforward, but again, it was Paxton. She glanced at him, trying to notice if he looked like he was attempting to trick her, but his face was as innocent as an altar boy’s. “Should we have a witness?”
“Do you think we need one?” Again, he hit her with a gaze so compelling it was like a magnet. “Honesty has never been a problem between us. If anything, we’ve been too honest with each other.”
“Very true. Okay.” Jo handed the papers back, ready to . . . well, she wasn’t sure what, but whatever was going to happen between them, she was ready to get it over with. “That looks satisfactory, but I reserve the right to call foul if I figure out you’ve snookered me with all that legal verbiage. I don’t speak lawyer.”
Paxton took the pen and signed his name with his spare, masculine script. When he straightened up, he moved to stand in front of her, his body looming large and giving off enough heat to explain the warm flush stealing into her cheeks. “I’m willing to seal it with a kiss to make it official.”
“Our signatures should suffice. Plus I’m pretty sure your help with my shopping today at the grocery store made it darn official with the Grapevine. You’re a sneaky man.”
He grinned down at her. “I’m a very grateful man. I appreciate what you’re doing for me. I really do.”
“I can pretend to like you for six months. I think.” Remembering the kiss he’d laid on her the other day helped. A lot.
“I’m humbled by your sacrifice.” He smiled at the pained look on her face.
“Just remember, I’m no actor like your brother; it won’t be my fault if no one falls for it,” she warned.
“I guess I’ll just have to work on being very convincing, princess.” He winked at her before his face grew still. “Seriously, Jo. Having you on my arm is sure to quiet the misgivings over my single status. You’re well-respected as both a teacher and a member of the community. You’ve got a perfect reputation. Even if you aren’t a great actor—this will work.”
There was a twinge of guilt, knowing even as he was counting on her perfect reputation to help, she was planning on doing a few things that might tarnish that perfect image. But she honestly thought she’d suffocate if she didn’t change up her life this very minute. So she’d start her path toward the wild side with baby steps, hoping Paxton could schmooze his way into president of the bar association in record time. One thing she and Paxton could agree on was that the quicker they could go back to their separate corners, the happier they’d both be.
It was a plan. A good, workable plan.
Right up until Paxton opened his mouth and said, “It won’t be as hard as you think. There are really only a handful of people in the bar association I need to believe we’re a couple. And honestly, as long as I can sell us to Mr. Pope, it’s as good as done. He has wide influence, so if I can impress him, I’m good.”
Breathe, Jo. Breathe. Pope was a common name. There were even other Popes in Climax, let alone around the tri-county area. “Just to clarify, by Mr. Pope . . . are you referring to Donald Pope?”
“No. Helmut Pope, the lawyer. Lives on the west side of town.”
Oh crap. The man who’d called her into the meeting with the principal. The very man who’d dropped his daughter’s dog off at the pound while she was away visiting colleges. Not that Paxton knew anything about it. Jo had steadfastly refused to give him any details about the dog she’d rescued from the animal shelter, afraid it would incriminate Maggie.
“Don’t look so negative.” He took her hand and squeezed it, as if willing his calmness into her. “This is bound to work, and then the six months will be over before you know it.”
“Well, either way we’re even after this. And we can go back to where we were.”
Paxton’s thumb stroked the palm of her hand . . . once . . . twice before settling over the pulse point on her wrist. “I’m not so sure about that, Jo. After that kiss the other day, I’m not sure we can ever go back to where we used to be. Strangely, I’m okay with that.”
Heat swirled low in her stomach at the mention of the kiss, and her gaze dropped to his lips. Oh boy. She needed to lock that memory away. Because the smile on his lips sent her heart into a new rhythm and she wasn’t okay with that at all.
Chapter Eight
“I’ve got you, Paxton.” Renee squinted around, scanning the diner tables during the tail end of the lunch rush. “You can sit in the corner booth over there, and Jolene, honey, you take that two-top on the other side. That’s as far apart as I can get you two today.”
“We only need one table and the corner booth suits us just fine.” Paxton wrapped his arm around Jolene’s waist and nodded at Renee before smiling down at Jo. “Won’t it, honey?”
Jolene ignored the fact that Renee stood gaping at them, speechless for probably only the second time in her life. She also circumnavigated around the fact that she really liked the way honey had rolled off his lips, so smooth and sexy she almost believed it herself.
And as if Paxton were pulling out all the stops, he slid his hand from her waist to the small of her back and then went a bit lower. Jo’s breath tangled up in her throat and she coughed like a cat with a fur ball.
“Dadgum, y’all, I bet money the Grapevine had it wrong about you two.” Renee looked from one to the other. “I mean, y’all have hated each other forever, right?”
Well, she had them there. So Jo looked adoringly up at Paxton and q
uoted the Bard. “ ‘My only love sprung from my only hate.’ ”
“What?” Renee’s eyes went buggy.
“I believe that’s Shakespeare. That’s what I get, dating an English teacher.” Paxton laughed and rubbed a hand down Jo’s behind, making her jump. “I can finally say I’m hot for teacher.”
Tilting her head at an angle, Renee’s gaze bounced from Jo to Paxton and back a few times. “Well, why don’t you two settle in the booth and I’ll bring you some drinks?”
“Two coffees.”
“Sweet tea.”
Renee arched an eyebrow at them. “Which one? Coffee or tea?”
“Isn’t he the greatest? I forgot I’m trying to give up sugar.” Jo poked Paxton in the ribs. “And he remembered. Isn’t that adorable? So, yes, coffee . . . coffee for me and my guy here.”
Paxton hustled them to the booth and slid onto the bench across from her. “For the record, not adorable. Nothing I do is adorable.”
“You don’t have to tell me twice. Check: not adorable. And if we’re giving critiques, watch the hands, buster.” Because his hand on her butt had made her heart flutter, and that just didn’t seem right.
“I didn’t intend that to happen—it just did.”
“How often does that defense work for you in court?”
“Point taken. But in my defense, nothing on your list mentioned hands on your ass.”
“Obviously an oversight on my part. So we’ll say hands on my ass are off-limits.”
“What if there’s a fire and I’ve got to boost you to safety through a window that requires a hand, more probably both hands, on your ass?”
“Okay, we’ll amend the list to allow a hand on my ass in emergency situations.”
“Very practical. For the record, feel free to put your hand on my ass anytime.”
“Even if there’s no emergency?”
“Especially then.”
She laughed. “Did I know you were this funny?”
“I’m not kidding, Jojo.”
