Dixie Virgin Chronicles: Joanna (Book 6)

by Webb, Peggy

  “Ugh! He’s the most boring man on the face of the earth – except maybe poor Clinton Gable.”

  “Who’s he?” Clemmie said.

  “The next unsuspecting man I dragged home. I even told him I was in the family way. Poor Kirk!”

  “Poor Kirk?” Bea went instantly into take-charge mode. “All right, Joanna. Out with it. What’s all this insanity about dragging home idiots you don’t even like? And don’t you dare tell me it has anything to do with the F word.”

  “The F word?” Belinda said. “Good lord, Bea. I’m glad I sent the children off with Quincy.”

  “Don’t get your panties in a wad, Belinda,” Janet said. “Bea means Fernando.”

  “Don’t mention that name!” Joanna made a big to-do of covering her ears.

  “See?” Janet winked. “He’s history, Joanna. But what’s this about Kirk?”

  “Kirk?” Joanna felt her face grow hot. “I thought ya’ll wanted to know about my love life – or the lack thereof.”

  “Oh, sweetie.” Cat reached for Joanna’s hand. “Your face is a dead giveaway.”

  “About what?”

  “Kirk.” Molly scooted close and put her arm around Joanna’s shoulders. “You’ve been in love with him ever since we were kids.”

  “I love him. That’s true. But I’m not in love with him. Good grief, he’s my guardian!” Joanna reached for a handful of popcorn, and ended up overturning the bowl.

  She got a reprieve as the Dixie Virgins scrambled, laughing, to gather up all the spilled popcorn. But it was only long enough to realize that her feelings for Kirk went way beyond anything she’d ever felt for Fernando, even when she’d still thought the unfaithful wretch was wonderful.

  “So, just what are we going to do about it?” Bea plopped the half empty bowl back onto the coffee while Belinda headed off to dump the spilled corn.

  “Don’t ya’ll say a word till I get back,” she said over her shoulder.

  “You’d better hurry,” Molly said. “I’m bursting with bad advice.”

  “I’m counting to ten, Belinda,” Bea yelled after her. “If you’re not back by them, I’m calling this meeting to order.”

  “She is not.” Clemmie playfully punched Bea’s arm. “I won’t let her.”

  Belinda hurried back to the den, flush-faced and holding her hands across her abdomen. “I hope all this flitting about is good for little Reeve Lawrence, Junior.”

  “Belinda, if you don’t stop obsessing over having a baby, I’m going to scream,” Janet said.

  “Nobody believes you, Janet,” Molly said.

  “I don’t know why not?”

  “Because you’ve never screamed in your life,” Bea said. “Not even when that little garter snake got in your duffle bag at summer camp.”

  “I didn’t have to scream,” Janet said. “Molly and Belinda were doing enough for everybody.”

  They got off on the subject of that long-ago camp, and by the time they got back around to Joanna’s current problem, the sun was sinking, Belinda had brought out the wine, and they were all in a mellow mood.

  “It’s not that I don’t love Kirk,” Joanna said in a very dreamy manner. “It’s just that he’s bossy and wonderful and older and totally magnificent and married to his work and absolutely the most wonderful man I’ve ever known.”

  “You said wonderful twice, sweetie.” Cat patted her hand. “I think that’s a sign.”

  “To signs.” Bea lifted her glass. “And to us.”

  “To the Dixie Virgins,” Cat said.

  “And the Dixie Not-So Virgins,” Clemmie added.

  “The Dixie Former Virgins who Liberated Virginia.” Molly stood up and did a mock tap dance across the room.

  “Yahoo!” Bea yelled. “Ride ‘em cowgirl.”

  “Here’s to a happy Virginia!” Belinda joined hands with Molly and cavorted around the room.

  “Come on, everybody,” Bea yelled, and soon they were war-dancing around the room and whooping like something in an old cowboy and Indian movie.

  Finally they collapsed into a heap onto the Oriental rug, and Bea said, “We never did figure out what to do about Joanna’s dilemma.”

  “Follow your heart,” Molly said. “It will never lead you wrong.”

  “Follow your heart, but stay out of trouble,” Janet caught her eye. “You hear me, Joanna.”

  “Who me? You’re preaching to the choir, Janet. I never get into trouble!”

  “When you do,” Belinda said. “Call me and I’ll come right over and bail you out.”

  “Me, too,” Clemmie and Janet said at the same time.

  “I’ll send the Mafia,” Molly said.

  “What Mafia?” they all said at the same time.

  “I got a rise out of you, didn’t I?” Molly roared with laughter, and they all started pelting her with silk sofa pillows. The pillow fight lasted until they’d all collapsed in a laughing heap.

  “Well, hello there. The Dixie Virgins, I presume.”

  Joanna saw a gorgeous hunk of a man standing in the doorway, and it didn’t take Belinda two seconds to untangle from the pile of giddy women and launch herself into the arms of her husband. They kissed as if they didn’t have a fascinated audience of six.

  “Reeve, you’ve met everybody except, Joanna. And Joanna, this is my husband.” Belinda was as rosy cheeked as a little girl when she made the introductions.

  “I didn’t figure he was a door-to-door salesman,” Joanna drawled, and then strolled across the room and offered her hand. “Hi, I’m the Dixie Virgin who’s been in the nunnery, and I’m the entire cause of the mayhem in your house.”

  “Good. Belinda has taught me to enjoy a lively house. Welcome.”

  “Thank you.” She turned back to join her friends, but not before she noticed Reeve was kissing his wife again. Quite thoroughly, it seemed to Joanna, and she felt such a punch in her gut she wondered if she might be coming down with a virus.

  o0o

  Thankfully, Bea and Cat stayed in town a few more days, and Joanna didn’t have to think about anything except having fun. They went to swoon over Leonardo DiCaprio in The Great Gatsby, and then they all trooped over to Peppertown for a picnic, and Joanna got to meet Clemmie’s husband, Michael. Later, in the gazebo, Joanna pronounced him entirely swoon-worthy.

  She said the same thing about Coach Dan Albany when Janet had them all over to her big sprawling house on Church Street for a sleepover that was reminiscent of that long-ago summer camp where they’d all met. Molly had brought her wedding album, and Joanna declared that her husband Sam was a fabulously handsome male version of his sister, Bea.

  Bea had one snapshot of Russ, taken in the citrus grove, and Joanna claimed he looked like Brad Pitt on the set in one of Baz Luhrmann’s opulent movies. They laughed till their sides hurt, talked till they got hoarse, and held onto each other, crying, when they took Bea to the airport.

  Afterward, Molly and Cat left for their long drives home, and Clemmie, Belinda, Janet and Joanna swore on the Dixie Virgin sisterhood that they’d meet once a week for lunch.

  Back at Meadow Lane, Joanna decided the only way to drive the blues away was to plunge into something fun and totally over the top.

  Chapter Three

  Kirk wasted no time in finding the right man for Joanna. Thank God she’d been too busy with the Dixie Virgins to run out and drag home another sorry specimen who had failed second grade, or worse. He knew how stubborn she was. Once she’d set her mind to marrying, nothing would stop her. The only control he could exercise would be over her choice of a bridegroom. Maybe he could prevent her from ruining her life by selecting a sensible young man who would watch out for her.

  Following the sound of loud music, he found Joanna in the den, dressed in a costume so blatantly sexy it would sober skid-row bums. Head thrown back, arms uplifted, she was dancing to the music, blissfully unaware of her audience.

  Kirk stood in the doorway, spellbound. He recognized the costume and the
music as Spanish. He didn’t know what the dance was called, but it had obviously been designed to make fools of men like him. The sensuous beat of the music and the graceful undulation of Joanna’s hips ripped through his gut like a knife. He turned from the doorway to leave.

  “Going somewhere, Kirk?”

  He whirled back around. Joanna was standing so close he could see a fine sheen of perspiration across the tops of her breasts.

  “Do you always go around dressed like that?”

  “This happens to be an authentic flamenco dress.”

  “I can see your navel and your...” Words failed him.

  “Do you expect me to dance in a shroud? The flamenco calls for a dress that’s bright and sassy.”

  “It’s indecent.”

  “Indecent?” Her voice was deceptively soft as she stepped back from him. “You want to see indecent?” Reaching up, she grabbed the masses of ruffles on her shoulders and slid them down her arms. The move not only exposed a heady expanse of tanned shoulders, it further bared her breasts.

  Propping her hands on her hips, Joanna defied him. “How’s that for indecent, Kirk?”

  He gripped her shoulders and glared down at her. Suddenly everything about her overwhelmed him—the bare shoulders, sweat slick and sexy, the soft mounds of her breasts, swelled in heady invitation above the outrageous gown, the lips, berry ripe and parted. He knew he was out of control, but it didn’t seem to matter anymore.

  His mouth crushed down on hers. He was vividly aware of its texture, soft and moist and velvety. The shape of her lips burned into his memory, full and sensuous and openly inviting. Before he could stop himself, he was kissing her with undisguised passion.

  He felt her wild response, felt her hips shift to fit perfectly against his.

  With a muttered oath he jerked his head up. Still gripping her arms, he looked down at her.

  “That’s what happens to innocent girls who flaunt themselves.”

  Joanna felt as if she had suddenly been caught in a whirlwind. She was angry and elated and confused, all at the same time. Her only satisfaction was that Kirk didn’t seem to be his usual cool self. There was a decided huskiness in his voice.

  “I’m a woman, Kirk. And don’t you forget that.” She was surprised at the calmness in her own voice.

  He didn’t say anything, merely looked at her with those turbulent gray eyes. In the screaming silence of the room, she faced him. Time marched by in storm-trooper boots, and each passing minute jolted her nerves. But she remained staunch. She knew that battles weren’t won by timidity.

  Finally Kirk loosened his grip. “I’m sorry, Joanna. I didn’t mean to do that.”

  “Most men who kiss me don’t apologize afterward.”

  “It wasn’t a kiss; it was...”

  “Was what?”

  “A lesson. I wanted to show you how easy it is to provoke a man to...”

  “To what?”

  “To that kind of behavior. You have to be careful, Joanna.”

  He removed his hands from her shoulders, and his expression became contrite. Reaching out, he gently rubbed her shoulders. “I’m so sorry, baby. Did I hurt you?”

  She looked down at the faint imprint of his fingers on her skin. “No, Kirk. You may be trying to turn me into a porcelain doll, but I’m not fragile.”

  Kirk walked away from her and sat on the sofa. “Would you mind turning down that music, Joanna? I have something important to tell you.”

  “Does the music bother you?”

  “Immensely.”

  “Then I’ll turn it off. I’ve finished dancing, anyhow.” After she’d turned off the CD player, she sat down in a chair opposite him.

  “I’ve found a young man for you.”

  The news didn’t cheer her at all. “A husband?”

  “Merely a prospect. His name is Alfred Oakland. He’s a sharp young man, one of the CPAs in our accounting department at Deerfield Manufacturing. I’ve arranged a double date for tonight.”

  That news cheered her even less. She’d be damned if she’d ask who his date was.

  “That sounds absolutely lovely.” She smiled at him.

  For a minute he just sat on the sofa, watching her. Then he said, “Dinner at eight.”

  “Great.” She stood up. “I have to go upstairs and make myself ruinously gorgeous.”

  o0o

  As it turned out, Kirk’s date was someone Joanna knew, Marsha Holmes. Marsha was a cool blonde, sophisticated, understated and successful. She had her own law practice, was president of the League of Women Voters and was so polished she squeaked when she walked.

  Joanna hated her. She tried hard not to. As she watched the two of them across the dinner table, she tried to be happy that Kirk had found someone so suitable. But did she have to be so damned beautiful, too?

  No wonder Kirk was so taken with her, bending over to catch her every word, sitting so close Joanna just knew their knees were touching under the table.

  She tried to concentrate on her own date, but her heart wasn’t in it. The memory of being in Kirk’s arms this afternoon coursed through her like new wine. She didn’t know how it had happened nor why, but that kiss had almost made her forget her plans.

  Resolutely she turned to her own companion.

  “Tell me all about your job, Alfred.”

  Alfred launched into a lengthy monologue about balance sheets and tax forms and debits and credits. Joanna tried hard to concentrate, but her mind kept wandering toward Kirk. She wondered what Marsha had said to make his beautiful mouth curve upward in a smile. She had a sudden, intense urge to dump her blackened redfish into Marsha’s lap. With a shock Joanna realized that she was jealous. It was a new emotion for her, and she sat back, feeling suddenly contrite. What was happening to her?

  Before she turned back to Alfred, Joanna peeked across the table just in time to see Marsha reach up and tenderly touch Kirk’s cheek. He caught Joanna staring and smiled.

  “Joanna, you’re not eating your fish. I’m surprised. Your appetite’s usually so hardy.”

  “Ulcers,” she said.

  Kirk couldn’t suppress his grin. “It must be the climate.”

  “No doubt. Too much hot air.”

  Marsha was not to be left out of the conversation. “Mississippi is unusually sultry this summer.”

  “Tupelo in particular,” Alfred added.

  “Meadow Lane is practically steaming.” Kirk was looking directly into Joanna’s eyes when he spoke.

  “Especially the den.” She could feel the searing heat of his gaze before he slowly turned back to his companion. The warmth seemed to seep through her skin and creep slowly through her body. She wondered if anybody had ever been ravished in the glassed-in dining room at Gloster 205, the fanciest restaurant in town. One more look like that from Kirk and she could be across the table having her way with him, right in plain sight of all the Friday night diners and everybody who was headed through the Crosstown intersection for the second feature at the movies.

  That was a heck of a way to think about the man she’d always thought of as her cousin and her best friend.

  To Alfred, she said gaily, “I have a sudden urge to dance.”

  “That sounds lovely,” Marsha said. “Bogart’s would be nice.”

  “Does that suit everybody?” Kirk asked.

  Joanna didn’t even want to be breathing the same air as Marsha. She was afraid of committing murder with a half- eaten fish. And as for Kirk—if she didn’t get away from him, she would probably do something they’d both regret.

  “You two go ahead.” Joanna dismissed them with a wave of her hand. “I want to dance on the street.” Linking her arm with Alfred’s, she smiled up at him. “Is that all right with you?”

  Alfred knew he couldn’t say no, even to such an outrageous proposition, for he had long ago become a victim to Joanna’s smile. “We might try the park,” he said mildly.

  “Great.” Holding Alfred’s arm, Joanna swept by Kir
k without glancing his way. “Look for me when you see me coming,” she called over her shoulder.

  “Joanna,” Kirk called after her. But she never even looked back.

  o0o

  Alfred and Joanna ended up at Joyner Park, and with Joanna humming the tunes and sometimes teaching him the steps, they danced until he begged for relief.

  “I can think of better ways to die.” He was panting and laughing as they sat down on the merry-go-round.

  “So can I. And all of them are wicked.”

  “You’re delightful, Joanna. I’m glad Kirk talked me into coming.”

  “He can be a fierce old bear when he wants to. Did he use bribery or force?”

  Alfred gave her an appreciative look. “More like a command. To tell the truth, when one is asked to date the boss’s cousin, it’s usually best to go prepared with a muzzle and a chain.”

  Joanna impulsively hugged him. “You’re honest and forthright. I like that, Alfred. I think we’re going to be good friends.”

  “I was hoping for more than that.”

  Joanna stepped off the merry-go-round and began to pace. “This is all very complicated, Alfred.” She tilted her face toward the sky and studied the stars for a moment. “I thought I was hoping for more than that, too. As a matter of fact, I’d planned to marry you.”

  He laughed. “Do you mind if we wait until you’ve learned my last name?” She turned to stare at him. “It’s Oakland. You’ve called me Kirkland all night.”

  “I’m sorry.”

  “You’re forgiven. But that forgiveness comes with a price. Do you mind telling me why you had planned to marry me? I’d love to think it’s my irresistible charm, but even I’m not that big a fool.”

  “I suppose I owe you the truth since, in a way, I’ve used you. You see, Kirk isn’t really my cousin; he’s my guardian. He controls my inheritance until I’m thirty—or married. So I devised a scheme to get married and gain my independence. All very logical and practical.”

  “Yes. But not romantic.”

  She smiled at him in appreciation. “You’re a very perceptive man. My scheme was impulsive, to say the least. I’m beginning to think it was harebrained, as well. Don’t get me wrong. You’re exceptionally nice and I’m no expert on love or anything, but I wonder if it shouldn’t feel— well, less practical.”