A Family Man

by Mindy Neff

  Josie followed his lead.

  Brother Mac spoke for a while about the progress of the Fourth of July celebration, praised all the ladies for their hard work and contributions toward the bake sale, and announced the various church functions scheduled for the week. Then to Josie’s mortification, the pastor singled her out—having to search the crowd for her since she wasn’t in her regular seat—and expressed thanks on behalf of the whole congregation for the donation of flowers adorning the altar.

  Josie forced a smile and tried not to meet anyone’s eye as several parishioners turned around and nodded in her direction. Acutely aware of the solid press of Chase’s shoulder and thigh against her body—with absolutely no room to put space between them—she felt as if the word sinner were stamped across her forehead for all to see and comment upon. A big red A couldn’t have been more apparent.

  It was the most uncomfortable church service Josie had ever sat through. When at last Brother Mac called for the final prayer, she reached for her purse.

  “At least let the man say ‘Amen,’” Chase whispered.

  Josie ignored him, her heart pounding. She had to get out of here.

  Her nerves just couldn’t take any more.

  And darn Chase Fowler for knowing that.

  Mary Alice caught up with Josie just outside the back door of the church. “You’re in an awful hurry this morning.”

  Josie longed to confide in her best friend, but the time and place wasn’t right. “No. I was just going to say hello to Aunt Dottie.”

  “Looked more to me like you were running. What was all the whispering about between you and our new, sexy-as-sin resident?”

  “Whispering?” Josie nearly groaned. Sexy as sin was right.

  “Come on, Josie. You’re blushing, for goodness’ sake. I want the whole story. And don’t leave out a single detail.”

  “Josephine.”

  Josie’s heart sank at the sound of her mother’s voice.

  “Uh-oh,” Mary Alice whispered. “I know that tone. See ya.” She turned. “Mornin’ Miz Halliday. I’m off to rescue the Sunday School teacher from my boys. Ya’ll have a good day, hear?”

  “Traitor,” Josie mumbled, then plastered a pleasant smile on her face and turned around. “Hello, Mother.”

  “I have to tell you, Josephine, it was a little disconcerting to have Brother Mac disrupt the whole service this morning in order to find you.”

  “I’m sorry, Mother. I was running late so I just grabbed the closest seat.”

  “And made a spectacle of yourself with that friend of yours and that man.”

  Anyone listening would have thought Josie was eight instead of twenty-eight. Where her mother was concerned, Josie was adept at changing the subject. “How’s daddy?”

  “He’s right over there if you care to find out.”

  Josie forced a smile. “Yes, of course.” She scanned the crowd for her father and her heart leapt into her throat. He was standing with several of the deacons.

  And so was Chase.

  She forced her eyes away and tried to concentrate on her mother, but her gaze kept straying back to Chase. He had his hands in the pockets of his suit pants. The front panels of his coat were pushed back in a way that emphasized the breadth of his chest in a snow-white dress shirt. Despite herself, Josie found herself reacting to his virility.

  As if he could feel the force of her gaze—and her thoughts—he looked up…and winked. She nearly choked when she tried to swallow.

  “Josephine, are you listening to me?”

  “Sorry, Mother.”

  “I asked you what you’re making for the social. Since I’m sure most of your recipes are the same as mine, it wouldn’t do for us to duplicate one another.”

  “I thought I’d make a cauliflower salad. And probably a cherry pie, too.”

  Eleanor sniffed as if she’d smelled something particularly foul and tugged at the wrists of her cotton gloves. “You might want to rethink the salad, dear. Isn’t that the one Miz Inez’s maid taught you to make?”

  “Yes.” Josie knew her tone was defensive, but more times than not her mother brought out the worst in her. “Mattie gave me the recipe.”

  “As I recall, it has onions in it. Not everyone cares for onions, you know.”

  “I like that salad, Mother.”

  “Yes, but it wouldn’t be one of your better efforts.”

  Josie opened her mouth, but no words came forth. Which was just as well. She’d caused enough of a stir by whispering back and forth with Chase during the service. To engage in a public argument with her mother would definitely cause people to talk.

  “I’m not saying this to hurt your feelings,” Eleanor continued. “But you just don’t think sometimes, Josephine. You know how people are and I’m sure once you’ve thought it through you’ll see I’m right. There’s nothing more embarrassing than having to take home a full dish that no one has touched.”

  Josie fumed. Eleanor might as well come out and say what was really on her mind—that any bad reflection on Josie was a bad reflection on Eleanor herself. This obsession with appearances, of living up to the upper-crust Alexander name was wearing thin with Josie.

  By darn, she intended to take that salad, even if she was the only one in the whole town who ate it. “I’ll think about it, Mother. But I’ve got to run now. J.T. will be getting restless.”

  As if pulled by an unseen string, she looked up, her gaze slamming straight into Chase’s probing blue eyes. The jolt of awareness that sizzled between them caught her off guard.

  “Bring him out to the house sometime soon.”

  “Who?” She couldn’t mean…

  “My grandson. Josephine, what—”

  “Yes. Of course.” Good, Lord. She couldn’t believe she’d almost given herself away like that. The man had her so flustered she couldn’t even think straight.

  “Mother, I’ve really got to run.” Seeing Chase detach himself from the circle of men galvanized Josie into action. “Give Daddy a kiss for me.”

  It seemed the whole town had turned out for the Fourth of July fair and dinner barbecue. The air was redolent with the scents of home cooking and charcoal fires. Steaming ears of corn, salads of every variety and mounds of calorie-laden deserts were presented along with unlimited hamburgers and hot dogs.

  The highlight of the evening was dancing, which would be followed later that night by a fireworks display. The music had already started, so Josie drifted in that direction, drawn by the familiar melodies.

  The sun had long since set, creating an ambiance of twilight and romance. Gaslights cast an amber glow across the basketball courts as couples danced to a popular tune. The musicians were good, Josie thought, all of them local guys, both young and old.

  Standing alone, Josie looked up through the couples dancing. Chase was there. On the opposite side of the basketball court. Her heart lurched and a rush of pure adrenaline blasted her system, making her light-headed. She quickly looked away. It seemed he was always there, either in her mind or in the flesh. His presence was like a magnet, drawing her inexorably to him when she knew it was as dangerous as playing with fire to do so.

  Although everything within her screamed for her to take those few crucial steps to his side, she didn’t dare approach him. Being close to him would be tantamount to announcing to the whole town that there was something between them.

  She’d been avoiding him for most of the day, and it seemed, for reasons of his own, he’d been letting her get away with it.

  It reminded her of a fifties courting game. Each kept their distance, acting as if they’d never met. Then, as if by telepathy, one or the other would look up. Even the tiniest break in the crowd would draw their gazes.

  Trying to steer her mind in another direction, Josie scanned the crowd for Mary Alice and Bud. Her friends had taken J.T. off with them. J.T. loved spending time with Cory and Shane—Mary Alice’s boys—and after much arguing, Josie had agreed to let the Temples entert
ain J.T. and take him home for a sleepover. She caught sight of them once and smiled when she noticed that J.T. was practically asleep against Bud’s shoulder.

  The music changed in tempo, a country-and-western line dance that drew her attention. The scene that followed reminded her somewhat of a cattle drive. Folks nearly stampeded to get a position on the concrete square.

  “I thought Baptists didn’t dance,” came a deep voice from behind her.

  Josie felt her heart lurch as Chase stepped out of the shadows. She kept her eyes straight ahead lest she betray the yearning she was sure would be evident. After an entire day of tantalizing glimpses and wild fantasies she couldn’t allow to come to fruition, she needed a moment to get a grip.

  “Brother Mac comes from a more enlightened generation,” she said, pleased that her voice came out strong and clear. “He even has the boys sneak in a few jazzed-up hymns every once in a while.”

  “‘Amazing Grace,’ huh?”

  “Hey, don’t knock it. Jimmy Lee does a great Elvis impression.”

  Chase laughed. “So how come Alexander’s leading lady isn’t out there dancing?”

  His tone didn’t offer offense, so Josie took none. “I’m hardly Alexander’s leading lady. And I’ve never been much good at that sort of dancing. Any dancing, for that matter.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  Josie laughed. “No. It’s kind of like me and aerobics. I can do the footwork most of the time, or the arms, but I can’t seem to do both together.”

  His chuckle set off a host of butterflies in her stomach. “Line dancing’s mostly countin’ steps, sugar. Only takes the lower part of the body.”

  The image his words created nearly derailed her thoughts. His slight grin told her he knew it. “Wrong,” she said. “It takes your head to count. In my book that’s both halves of the body, which counts me out.”

  “Hmm.”

  She wondered just what that “hmm” meant, but didn’t dare ask. Lord, he looked good in his cowboy boots, worn-out jeans and white cotton shirt buttoned only halfway. Her gaze riveted on those open buttons and the shadow of hair exposed. Oh, God, she remembered touching that chest—and hated herself for having such vivid recall.

  “Do you do this?” She gestured toward the dance floor where the dancers were stomping and clapping with a great deal of enthusiasm.

  “Some.”

  The music changed to a polka. Couples paired off and began a fast two-step, all moving in the same line of dance direction. Josie and Chase watched in silence for a few minutes. Gracie Jones, Alexander’s star reporter, stood on the outskirts of the dance area opposite them. Josie wondered if Gracie was here to record the event for the newspaper, or for purely social reasons. As far as she knew, Gracie hadn’t dated since her husband’s scandalous death five years ago.

  “Isn’t that your friend Bubba out there?” Josie asked.

  “Yeah. Seems he’s been keepin’ company with Lindsey Wakefield lately.”

  “Lindsey’s a nice girl.” She hadn’t meant it to be, but her tone was almost defensive.

  Chase looked down at her, a slight frown marring his brow. “And Bubba’s a gentleman right down to his toes.”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” She always felt the need to champion the underdog since she sometimes viewed herself as one of them. Desperate to change the subject she asked, “So, how come you’re not out there dancing?”

  “Don’t have a partner.”

  Her heartbeat thudded again, sending another surge of adrenaline through her body. “There’re plenty of single women who’d love to dance with you.” Including me.

  “How ’bout you?”

  “No. I told you, I’m not very good at it.” She gave a nervous laugh. “I’d probably step on your toes or make a fool out of both of us.” She’d love to see him dance though. Simply watching this man walk was a pleasure.

  The lively polka gave way to a slower number as the soft, sensual strains of “Lady in Red” poured out of Jim Stratford’s harmonica. Before she realized his intent, Chase had her by the hand and was pulling her toward the outskirts of the dance floor. “You’ve just never danced with the right man.”

  “Chase, no,” she said in an alarmed whisper.

  “Josie, yes,” he mocked.

  Short of making a scene, Josie had little hope of stopping him. With as much grace as possible, given that she was genuinely embarrassed, she stepped into his arms and dropped her forehead onto his shoulder. “Now you’ve done it.”

  “What’s that?” The heat from his large palm seared the small of her back.

  Josie gave a muffled laugh against the front of his shirt. “Folks’ll talk, you know. Especially when I knock us both to the ground with my two left feet.”

  “You want to be on top or bottom?”

  His grin pulled at her like a riptide in stormy seas. Her cheeks were on fire and the heat was spreading. “Hush up and behave,” she hissed, trying to control a bubble of nervous laughter. She really wasn’t comfortable with dancing.

  “Sugar, when I have you in my arms like this, behaving is the last thing on my mind.”

  Josie groaned and missed a step, nearly tripping over his feet. If it hadn’t been for his firm hold they might have both ended up on the ground after all.

  “Chase, I told you I’m no good at this. I can’t think and talk at the same time.”

  “Well, now, there’s your problem, sugar. You’re trying to think this thing to death. Relax.”

  A difficult thing to do.

  “Just ease on up against me.”

  Ease up against him? My God, did he know what he was asking?

  “That’s it.” He inserted his knee between her legs and shifted her higher against his body. “Feel my rhythm. Move with me.”

  Oh, God, her heart was pounding loud enough to wake the dead at Emmit’s Mortuary. Proving it had a mind of its own, her body gravitated toward his, melting into him like liquid desire. Time seemed to stand still; the crowd seemed to have vanished. Josie’s whole being focused on each sensuous sway and dip as Chase expertly led her through the dance.

  His touch felt so good…too good. Each time he stepped forward, his thigh pressed between her legs, causing her to ache with longing in that tender, vibrant part of her body. Her breasts felt heavy, swollen where they crushed softly against his chest.

  It was only a dance, but the sensations were almost more than she could handle. In some distant part of her mind, she became aware of the song winding down to a slow, sensual end.

  She lifted her head from his shoulder and their gazes locked. In the play of shadows and light, his features were hard-edged, yet handsome. He exuded a brand of sexual magnetism that was almost feral in its ability to draw her in.

  A heart-stopping kaleidoscope of images played through her mind…a mysterious stranger defying the force of a storm…the seductive smell of damp leather…strong, lean fingers stroking, touching…. It’s your call, sugar. Tell me what you want.

  Tell me what you want.

  God help her, she had wanted his hands on her body—all over her body. And she wanted that now. Right here, with this man. Only this man. She longed to feel the crush of his lips, the warm, liquid silk of his tongue, pressed against her, around her, in her.

  A shudder moved through her limbs, startling her with its force. She wanted to cry. She knew she had to get away from him before she gave in to that darker side of herself she’d hoped would stay buried.

  She would never be able to fight her emotions if she stayed within the circle of his arms. She could feel his heat, his strength, his arousal…and her own. She pulled away.

  “Don’t go,” he said quietly. “Dance with me again. All night. Like before.”

  Josie shook her head. “I can’t,” she whispered and ran off into the dark.

  Chapter Seven

  Josie drove home feeling a little lost without J.T. beside her. Restless, not knowing quite what to do w
ith herself, she headed for the shower, letting the cool water sluice over her hot body. When she’d toweled off, she wrapped herself in a thigh length silk kimono and matching high-cut bikinis. The slinky material felt decadent against her skin; made her feel womanly, desirable…and lonely.

  Chase’s image kept flashing in her mind. A dangerous yearning pulsed through her veins. She glanced up into the beveled mirror above her dresser, snared by the reflection staring back at her.

  The reflection of an aroused woman whose desperation might drive her to the point of madness.

  She let out a weary sigh and turned from the mirror. She didn’t envision sleep coming anytime soon, so she wandered into the living room in search of a book.

  Even after her cool shower, Josie felt hot and restless and achy, but she couldn’t bring herself to open the door for fresh air. No. She needed to lock herself in. She was afraid if she opened the door, all the emotions she was trying desperately to subdue would come pouring out, released in a way that she’d never again be able to call back.

  She’d run tonight, from both Chase and herself, torn between her very real attraction for him and her guilt over betraying Bobby’s memory. She knew the exact moment her emotions had become such a jumble. It was when he’d smiled, holding her close in the dance. So reminiscent of the gentle, understanding smile he’d given her that night four years ago when she’d asked him to make love to her.

  She’d made a discovery tonight, right in the middle of the church basketball court, with the entire town looking on in speculation. In Chase, she’d seen the best of all that had drawn her to Bobby, but with the addition of incredible passion. A lightning swift chemistry.

  At some subconscious level, she’d fallen in love with Chase Fowler. He’d been a stranger then. Safe. A fantasy she could take out and indulge in that no one would ever know about.

  But he was no longer an intangible stranger. And she could no longer deny—or hide—from her feelings.