You Can't Hurry Love

by Lee Kilraine

  He knew that. He’d seen it happening since he’d been back; he’d simply been so hyperfocused on getting the branch office for Clark, Hinders, and Pope up and running, he’d only considered the problem recently. He actually enjoyed helping the people he’d grown up around with their everyday needs. There was a personal pride when he could help solve their problems, making the lives in his community a little easier.

  “Your Uncle Cullen was passionate about law, just like you. The thing is, there are many paths to a judgeship. And what if you don’t become a judge . . . what then, Paxton? Will you call your life a failure?”

  Paxton stared at his dad and then gave in to the wide smile that started in his chest and worked its way to his face. This was why he’d come to his dad’s garage. The man was good to his core and always asked the right questions. “No, Dad, I won’t.”

  Because it was about the people he met and helped along the way. And not so much where he ended up. Looked like he had some soul-searching to do. “Hey, I’ve got to run.”

  “What’s the hurry?” His dad shot him a completely innocent look.

  “I’ve got to make a course correction. I’m living proof that you can graduate summa cum laude from law school, land a job with not one but two top law firms, and be dumb as a brick. I messed up.”

  “This have anything to do with Jolene?”

  “Everything.” His dad had even warned him not to miss the forest for the trees. He’d been so damn focused on finding happiness and satisfaction through his career that he’d let the most precious woman slip away. “I need to figure out how to fix it before it’s too late.”

  “It’s never too late for love, Son.” His father nodded and pointed at him with the wire cutters in his hand. “Your talking points got me out of your mother’s meat loaf without a single hurt feeling. A man who managed that can manage anything.”

  “I hope so because it’s going to take everything I have to convince her we have a future.”

  “Your brothers have managed to do it. No reason you can’t.” His father’s gaze, filled with love and humor, helped bolster Pax’s confidence. “But it doesn’t hurt to have a backup plan.”

  “I’ve got two. I’ll pour on the Cates charm. And pray.”

  Chapter Twenty-six

  Her phone rang and her heartbeat tripped over itself. Stop. It. Paxton wouldn’t call. She glanced at the clock on her nightstand. Midnight. Her cell phone was charging on the kitchen counter and just because she couldn’t sleep didn’t mean she had the energy to get up. Crap. Midnight calls were never good, and for that reason she couldn’t ignore it. She slipped out from the covers to answer the phone.

  It only took one look at the caller ID to set her heart pounding. Chloe Pope. The only reason Chloe would call her at midnight was if something bad had happened to Maggie.

  She pulled in a breath and connected the call. “Chloe. Hello.”

  Sure enough, Maggie had missed her curfew and wasn’t answering her phone.

  “I’m sorry, I haven’t seen her. No, I didn’t ask Maggie to dog sit. I don’t even have a dog.” Oh Maggie, what are you up to? The fact that she’d lied and said she was dog sitting for Jo meant trouble.

  “Have you tried contacting her boyfriend? He’s not picking up either?” Great. “I’m sorry I’m no help. Good luck.”

  Jo hung up the phone feeling useless. The odds were Maggie was up to normal teenage summer shenanigans. Not that Jo would know about those because she’d never participated herself. No teenage mischief-making for the good girl. Jo had stayed far, far away from anything that sounded like trouble. But her sister had thrived on it, so Jo knew exactly what the standard activities entailed: making out at the lake, bonfire drinking parties, skinny-dipping, smoking, getting high, and drag racing. Probably a million more too, and any of them left a lot of room for real trouble.

  Not only had Maggie missed curfew but the fact that she’d lied to her family about where she would be . . . and brought Jo into it . . . that reminded her too much of her sister for comfort.

  Enough that she doubted her passionate support of Maggie? No. She could still see the excitement on Maggie’s face when she’d told her about her last piano performance or music class. She’d heard the enthusiasm in Maggie’s voice discussing one of the class reading assignments. The girl was smart, creative, and talented. She had dreams beyond high school that she’d written about in English class.

  Heck, it wasn’t like Maggie was the only Climax High School student acting wild and making questionable choices. It was an exciting yet stressful age. They were teenagers trying to juggle surging hormones and newfound independence through driving and summertime. All the while testing their autonomy from their parents, who, up until now, had made most of the decisions in their lives.

  Maggie wasn’t like Darlene. But she was apparently in big trouble. It shouldn’t be a surprise to anyone, though. She’d been heading off the straight and narrow for almost a year now. Was she simply being a typical teenager? Was her boyfriend a bad influence? Or was this her way of rebelling against the plans her father was trying to funnel her toward?

  Well, there was no way she was getting back to sleep now, so she made a cup of chamomile tea and slipped back into bed to read until the drink helped settle her. She’d love to get a few hours of sleep before her alarm went off. Jo thought the early mornings of a teacher were bad, but a baker’s hours were worse. Thirty minutes later, she shut off her light and managed to toss and turn for a few hours, thoughts of all the dangers that could befall Maggie running through her head.

  * * *

  Just like she’d figured, Jo needed an extra cup of coffee to feel half awake. She and Georgie worked together in the bakery kitchen, getting the daily morning offerings freshly baked and in the display case before they opened at seven-thirty. Georgie’s lemon ginger scones were popular and because she only baked them one day a week, they expected a busy morning rush until they were sold out.

  This morning Jo wasn’t keeping up with her side of the conversation on account of being tired. She simply let the soft rock playing quietly on the radio in the small office behind them fill the void. Of course she was still worrying about Maggie and the late-night phone call, but other thoughts, about her own life, tumbled and bounced around in her head.

  “All right, what gives?” Georgie asked from where she was washing her hands in the sink. “That’s the third sigh out of you, so spill. What’s going on?”

  “I got a midnight call from Chloe last night. Maggie missed her curfew and used dog sitting for me as her excuse.”

  “Oh boy. I certainly missed my share of curfews in high school, but the lying . . . that’s not good.” She moved next to Jo, pulling the resting bowl of dough forward to work on. “I’m sorry, Jo. It’s frustrating to watch someone go down in flames and not be able to do anything about it.”

  That could easily apply to Maggie, Darlene, and even Jo’s own life. “I hear what you did there.”

  “Well, there’s nothing you can do for Maggie right now.” After sprinkling flour onto the dough, Georgie turned a firm gaze on Jo. “So, what’s going on with you? Please tell me one of those sighs was about you.”

  “I think I’m finally ready to make a few earth-shattering life decisions. Is the scone batter ready to tray?”

  “Yes. Don’t forget the candied ginger on top. And you should consult me when making life decisions. I’m your BFF and it’s in the contract.”

  “Ugh, please, don’t mention contracts to me. I never want to sign another contract in my life.”

  Georgie paused in the middle of kneading the dough for the cinnamon rolls. “Your last contract set some very good things in motion. You just weren’t ballsy enough to stay the course.”

  “I’m inclined to agree with your assessment.” Jo pinched and sprinkled the smallest dusting of candied ginger onto the scones. “My mom had a good day the other day. I mean really good, where she was lucid for the whole day.”

>   “God, Jo, that’s wonderful. I bet it was grand for everyone.” Georgie’s eyes went watery before she blinked and focused on rolling out the dough. “Your mom might not have been as strong as I wanted her to be, but she was always kind.”

  “And she admitted that. Regretted it actually, and apologized.” Jo shook her head and looked up at Georgie. “She said life’s short and I should let that wild little girl out to play.”

  “That sounds exactly right. So what are you thinking about?”

  Letting the free-spirited girl back out to play. Giving in to impulses. Going back for seconds. Eating dessert first. Taking chances. Doing the things she needed, not what others needed her to do.

  It might take some time to get comfortable with the part of herself she’d put in restraints years ago. Baby steps. She could start with baby steps. “I was thinking of dying my hair pink. Think you can help me?”

  Georgie looked across, her brown eyes serious, and then a slow smile spread on her face. “Yeah, I think I can hook you up. Although if Thelma asks, I wasn’t involved.”

  “Thanks, G.” The thing about her best friend was she’d accepted her all along.

  The rest of the morning was lost in the morning rush. The scones sold out in the first hour.

  “Georgie, you really should make more next time. I can’t believe how fast they went.”

  “The fact that they’re limited gets people in, and once I get them in, the smells get them buying. All part of my devious plan to take over the world, Jo.”

  Jo laughed as she dumped coffee into the machine and set it to brew. “Speaking of devious plans, when are you going to tell people you’re running the bakery?”

  “I don’t know. Soon, I guess. When the old ladies stop pinching my cheeks when they come in.”

  “So never.” Jo grinned as Georgie rolled her eyes and pushed through the swinging door into the kitchen. Wiping her hands on her apron, she turned back to the counter to greet the next customers. “Agatha and Beatrice, what will it be today?”

  At that moment, Paxton entered the bakery and patiently waited off to the side while the Simon sisters debated between strawberry tarts and triple chocolate fudge brownies.

  Jo waited for them to make a decision, but every time she glanced at Paxton he was looking at her. She darted her gaze away as the heat seeped into her cheeks. Stop, Jo.

  “Sister, you know the chocolate gave you a rash,” Beatrice warned.

  Rolling her eyes, Agatha patted her sister’s hand. “It was worth every itch. Jo, we’ll take two of the brownies and two tarts.”

  Opening up a white bakery bag, Jo placed their selections inside and rang them up. “Enjoy.”

  Leave it to Agatha, the cheeky old woman. She tipped her head in Paxton’s direction and winked at her. “You too, Jolene.”

  Oh brother.

  “Paxton, what can I get you?” She avoided looking in his eyes by keeping focused on his chin.

  “Nothing today. Do you have a minute?” He watched and waited until the sisters had left before turning back. “Jo, I wanted to let you know . . . Maggie was picked up for a DUI last night.”

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  It felt like someone had punched Jo in the stomach. “Oh God. Is she all right? Is everyone okay?”

  “She’s fine.” Paxton’s face was grim. “Well, she’s not hurt. No one was hurt, but you can imagine she’s in trouble.”

  Jo put a shaking hand to her forehead. “Chloe called me last night looking for her—”

  “That’s what she said. I wanted you to hear it from me before it starts to get around.” His eyes bored into hers. “I know you care about her.”

  “I . . . I don’t know what to—” She stopped, overwhelmed with anguish for Maggie. Guilt stabbed at her. She’d been wrong. How had she been so wrong? Her eyes rose to Paxton’s. “Are you helping?”

  “No. It’s not my area. Hey.” He reached out, taking her shaking hands in his, letting his warmth comfort her. “She’s going to be okay. It could have been worse.”

  Oh lord, it really could have, but that relief didn’t lessen any of the worry. She pulled her hands away, sliding them into the front pockets of her apron.

  Paxton started to say something but stopped when the door chimed behind him.

  Jo’s gaze flickered to the new customer. “I’ll be right with you, Barbara.”

  “Take your time. I’ll look over the goods.” From where she stood behind Paxton, Barbara’s gaze ran up and down his body, spending extra time on his ass.

  “I’ve got to go.” He straightened his shoulders, gave her a nod, and headed out, leaving both Jo and Barbara staring after him.

  “Mmhmm. I swear, I thought I’d have a shot at Paxton after I heard you two broke up.” Barbara shook her head and turned back to Jo. “But right when I was ready to make my move, Chloe swept in.”

  Jo pressed her lips together for a count of three and redirected. “What do you need, Barbara?”

  The woman ordered a tray of cookies for her next three open houses. Apparently, her realty business was experiencing a rush on summer cottages.

  “You seem a little down, Jo,” Barbara said as she paid for her order. “It was seeing Paxton, huh? I know exactly how you feel. I can’t tell you how many Cates brothers have slipped through my hands. Okay, yes I can. Four. Four of them.”

  She slid the credit slip across the counter for Barbara to sign.

  “I’m not sure my ego can take tossing my Spanx in the ring for Paxton. Was he worth the heartache?”

  Jo didn’t say a thing, but she supposed her face must have revealed too much anyway.

  “That good? Of course he is.” She sighed, fluffed her hair, and puffed out her chest. “I guess I need to plan my attack on the off chance Chloe lets him go again. Wish me luck.”

  “Go forth and conquer,” Jo said, though it lacked enthusiasm, not that Barbara noticed.

  “I could use your experience.” She leaned into the counter, lowering her voice. “Where would you say you went wrong with Paxton?”

  Falling for him.

  “Never mind. I’ll use logic. Quinn, the sweetheart, fell for strong and feisty. Sijan, the tough action hero, fell for sweet and sappy. Tynan, the big scary hulk, fell for short and flat-chested with a dash of S and M.” She looked down at her healthy rack and shrugged. “Obviously, I never had a chance with him. And the quiet one, Kaz, to my surprise, went for geeky and outgoing.”

  Logic? It sounded a lot more like oversimplification and a bit too judgy on the women who’d snared all Barbara’s hopes and dreams.

  “Wait. Wait, wait, wait.” She slapped her palm on the counter. “I’m seeing a pattern here. They went with their polar opposites.”

  “Well, it’s a theory.” Not one Jo believed, but who the last Cates brother finally ended up with wasn’t something she wanted to ponder.

  Barbara paced in front of the bakery case as she thought it through. “Paxton is an outgoing talker, so he’s going to be attracted to an introverted listener. So all I’ve got to do is—” She stopped in her tracks and released a heartfelt sigh. “Yeah, no. That’s not going to work. I like to talk about myself way too much.”

  Okay, when even Barbara was more self-aware than Jo, there was obviously a problem to address.

  “It’s a sad end to my dream of snagging a Cates brother, but I’d rather not waste time. The girls aren’t going to be perky forever. Now I can cross Paxton off my list and move on to the next.”

  “Who’s next?” Not that Jo would warn them.

  “The more accurate question, Jo, is—who isn’t?” She winked and left with an airy, “Ta-ta, now.”

  Georgie came up behind her. “Sorry, Jo. I would have spared you that, but I was stuck on the phone talking a frenzied bride off the edge about her wedding cake.”

  “It’s fine.” She was going to have to get used to it. “I’m off the clock, so I’m off to buy some pink hair dye if we’re on for tonight.”

&nbs
p; “Can’t tonight. I’ve got a catering gig in Greensboro. Tomorrow works. I’ll text you the brand.”

  “Perfect.” She hung up her apron, gathered her purse, and headed out. Jo was still so upset about Maggie that she forgot it was her normal day to grocery shop and went straight home after hitting the beauty supply store. It also wasn’t her cleaning day, but that didn’t stop her. She had too much nervous energy to get rid of.

  So she stripped her bed, remade it with a fresh set of sheets, did two loads of laundry, dusted, vacuumed, mopped her tile floors, and scrubbed out her oven. At some point she pulled out leftovers and picked at them for dinner but gave up quickly. She should have learned from her post-gala binge that eating and angst didn’t work for her.

  Jo finally settled on her couch with a cup of tea and checked work from her tutoring students, which didn’t take nearly long enough. So she set herself up at the kitchen table and began revamping her lesson plans for the next school year. That did the trick. It was always exciting to think up new ways to inspire and interest her students and she lost herself in the task for hours.

  The ringing of her phone actually startled her, and one look at the time had her groaning. No. Not another late-night call. Local area code, but not a number she recognized. She answered it anyway because of the hour.

  “Hello?”

  “He’s here again,” a raspy voice whispered.

  “Who’s where? And who is this?” It sounded like they were trying to disguise their voice.

  “The dog is at the shelter again. And who this is doesn’t matter.”

  Frank Bufford. “Are you sure it’s the same dog?”

  “The microchip says so. I’d have called you sooner but I was off for three days.”

  “I appreciate the call. I’ll be in first thing tomorrow to get him.”

  “It’ll be too late. Besides, he’s listed as nonadoption/vicious biter in the computer.”

  That was so not true, let alone fair. What the hell was wrong with the man? Was he using the dog as a way to punish his daughter? She admitted she’d been dead wrong about Maggie and had decided to leave that alone—but that didn’t mean she was going to let an innocent dog be put down. “Can’t you do something?”