by Sharon Sala
“Same time next week,” she said, as she handed Ruby her money and bolted out the door like the place had just caught on fire.
But what had caught fire was LilyAnn’s lust. She hadn’t felt stirrings in her belly like that since the last time she’d seen Randy Joe naked. Only then she’d been just as naked and proud of her body, not like now.
Not once in the last eleven years had she given her changing shape much thought. It had never been an issue to her existence until today. The stranger was hot like Randy Joe and drove a fine fancy truck, just like Randy Joe. And once upon a time he would have looked at LilyAnn and wanted her…just like Randy Joe. But that man sitting in Vera’s styling chair would never give her a second look.
So the question was…what, if anything, was she going to do about this?
She sailed past the fitness center without looking at her reflection and hurried into the pharmacy, anxious to get something else on her mind besides wondering what T. J. Lachlan looked like naked. She’d heard some men looked good in their clothes but not so much without them, and knew it had to do with the size of their stuff. While she wasn’t one to judge a person on looks, she was seriously giving some thought to “what if?”
Her boss, Mr. Phillips, saw her coming in and waved her over.
“Hey, Lily, we just got in a new shipment. As soon as you can, come back to the pharmacy. You can check them against the invoice for me.”
“Sure thing,” she said, and stowed her purse and jacket, then got to work.
By the time five o’clock rolled around, she was exhausted in mind and body. She hadn’t given her life this much thought since the day after Randy Joe’s funeral.
“I’m leaving now,” she said.
“Have a good evening, LilyAnn,” Mitchell said, and waved good-bye.
Lily waved. “You too, Mitchell.”
The air was even colder now than it had been at noon. She pulled the collar of her jacket up around her neck, ducked her head into the wind, and started home. Even though it was only ten blocks from here, she was wishing she’d driven.
She was almost at the corner when someone honked, then shouted out her name.
“Hey, LilyAnn!”
She paused. It was Mike, her next-door neighbor, who’d braked out on the street.
“Want a ride, honey?”
She nodded and ran out into the street, circled the back end of his car, and got in.
“Thanks. It sure got cold today, didn’t it?”
Mike Dalton nodded, but he was eyeing her new hairstyle.
“I like your hair pulled back like that.”
She blinked. “Oh, thanks. I’d forgotten all about it. It was Sister Dye’s idea.”
“Well, it was a good one,” Mike said. “Were you busy today?”
“Yes, were you?”
He nodded. “Yeah, when it gets closer to the holidays, people always come in more often. I guess they want to lose a little extra because of the holiday food and parties.”
“Right,” Lily muttered, and pulled her jacket a little closer around her stomach.
Mike sighed as he accelerated. He wanted to grab LilyAnn and shake her. She talked to him, but she never looked at him. How could one woman be so oblivious? He’d loved her since the tenth grade and every day of his life since, but she’d never seen him like that.
When Randy Joe Bentonfield finally got to first base with her in high school, every boy knew it just from the smirk he wore the next day. And when Randy Joe finally hit a home run, Mike seriously considered beating the hell out of him just to wipe that smile off his face. As it turned out, he didn’t have to. An IED in a foreign land wiped Randy Joe straight off the earth. Back then, Mike was sorry as he could be that Randy Joe was dead, but he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t sorry she was free again.
Only it had done him no good. He’d spent the last eleven years living next door to the woman of his heart, hoping one day she would really look at him and knowing if she did, he wouldn’t have to say a thing. It would be impossible for her to miss the love on his face.
He stopped for a red light.
“Are you doing anything special tonight?”
She glanced at Mike. “No, are you?”
“It’s all-you-can-eat shrimp night at Granny’s Country Kitchen. I don’t have any leftovers. Wanna go eat with me?”
She shrugged. “I guess. But I need to shower and change clothes first.”
“Me too,” Mike said. He would have loved a little more enthusiasm, but he’d take what he could get. “Wear something warm, for sure.”
“Yeah, for sure,” she muttered, and then saw Willa Dean waving at them as she locked up the travel agency for the night. She smiled and waved back.
“Ever want to travel?” Mike asked.
“Hmm? What? Oh, I don’t know. Once I thought I would like to see Jamaica, but I never thought much about it since.”
“Your mom is in Florida. Why don’t you ever go see her?”
LilyAnn shrugged. “I don’t much like her husband, and he doesn’t much like me.”
Mike frowned. “How do you know he doesn’t like you?”
“Last time they came to visit, he made the comment that I was nothing like my mother. It felt like a dig.”
Mike’s face flushed a dark, angry red. “You never said anything before.”
“So? What could you do about it?”
“I could have punched his damn face,” Mike muttered.
Lily gasped. “Well, of course you could not. That’s Mama’s husband.”
“Yes, and you’re her daughter, and he owes you some respect.”
She sighed. “I know, but don’t ever say anything to her, okay? She’s happy. I don’t want to spoil that.”
The light turned green.
Mike drove through the intersection, still fuming. By the time they got home, it had started to rain.
“Yucky weather,” Mike said. “Are you still okay with going out?”
“Sure. I won’t melt.”
He laughed. “You’re the best. You’ve got an hour to make yourself gorgeous, and then I’ll be knocking on your door, okay?”
She rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. “It would take longer than an hour to make that happen.”
Mike grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her exit. “Don’t talk like that, okay?”
She frowned. “Like what?”
“Like putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, LilyAnn.”
“Not anymore,” she said. “I’ll be ready when you are.”
She got out and ran toward the house. As soon as she unlocked the door, she waved and went inside.
Mike just sat there. What the hell kind of a spell had Randy Joe put on her that she’d willingly died with him? What was it going to take to dig her out of that grave?
He backed up, pulled into his own driveway, and got out. The cold rain was a slap-in-the-face wake-up call to run, but he didn’t. He was so pissed at her and at himself for being such a hopeless romantic. He needed to cool off, and this was as good a way as any.
He thought about putting up a sign in his front yard to get her attention but was afraid it would be ill-received. There wasn’t anything wrong with a gentle nudge, but he was afraid that an “I love LilyAnn” sign would be more like a slap in the face, and he wouldn’t risk rejection.
Whatever.
He stomped into his house, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he got to the bathroom, he was carrying an armload of wet clothes and was naked as the day he’d been born. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped for a judgmental scan, ticking off the pros and cons.
Good six-pack, check.
Lean muscle mass, firm body, check. Brown hair, but in need of a haircut, check.
Green eyes, still in pi
ssed-off mode, check.
And then there was his face.
In need of a shave, but otherwise okay. His features were even. His nose wasn’t too big or too small. Except for the bump on the bridge from being broken twice, it was fine. He had what his mama had called a stubborn chin, which probably explained why he hadn’t quit on LilyAnn. He was just stubborn enough to believe that if he waited long enough, she would finally love him.
He dumped the wet clothes on the bathroom tile, grabbed the razor and shaving cream, and got down to business.
Chapter 2
As soon as Ruby and the girls closed for the day, they went straight across the street to Granny’s Country Kitchen to eat supper.
Ruby had spilled permanent solution on the leg of her pants and smelled a little like a chemistry lab, but the scent was quickly lost in the aroma of shrimp and hush puppies as they walked in the door. Granny’s served shrimp three ways on all-you-can-eat night: fried, grilled, and boiled in the shell, which was served cold. The sides that came with it—coleslaw and hush puppies—were generous servings, so it didn’t take long to get full.
They were still sitting in a corner booth when Mike and LilyAnn came in. Ruby elbowed Mabel Jean.
“Those two should be a couple, don’t you think?”
Mabel Jean eyed them and shrugged. “I think Mike is interested, but I don’t think she is.”
Ruby frowned. “I know, but it’s weird. They do stuff together all the time, but it’s like they’re brother and sister or something.”
Vesta leaned over her twin to add her two cents to the conversation.
“She’s all wrapped up in what was, not what could be.”
Ruby nodded. “That’s for sure. I wonder what it would take to make her take a better look at Mike Dalton. I think he’s adorable.”
Vera pointed to a basket on the table. “Anyone gonna eat that last hush puppy?”
“You can have it,” Ruby said.
Vera didn’t have to be told twice and quickly popped it in her mouth.
“I’ll get more,” Vesta said and waved down the waitress.
Mike and Lily took a seat in a booth on the other side of the room, unaware they were the topic of anyone’s conversation.
Ever the gentleman, Mike helped her off with her coat before she slid into the booth, but she didn’t thank him. She was already focused on the waitress taking orders as Mike sat down on the other side.
“I’ll have iced tea,” she said.
“Me too, and we’re both having the all-you-can-eat shrimp. I’ll take mine fried, and LilyAnn wants to start with grilled and the cold peel-and-eat shrimp with extra cocktail sauce, please.”
It never occurred to Lily that Mike had not only ordered exactly what she wanted without asking, but also knew what she liked best. He was such a fixture in her life; it seemed obvious he would know.
Mike tore off the end of the paper on his drinking straw and blew it at her, then grinned when it hit her square on the nose.
She rolled her eyes. “You always do that, I know you’re going to do it, and yet you catch me off guard every time.”
His eyes narrowed briefly. “That’s because you don’t pay attention, LilyAnn. If you did, you’d see the world in a whole new light.”
That sounded like one of those double entendre comments, but before she could ask him what he meant, a new group of diners came in. She felt the cold air that came with them and glanced up, just as her heart skipped a beat. It was the new guy again, with a trio of losers who frequented the local bar. So she knew where he was hanging out if these were the first friends he’d made, which wasn’t encouraging news. She blinked and then looked away.
Mike caught a look on her face that he hadn’t seen in years, but it was gone so fast he decided that he’d imagined it.
“Hey, Mike. Hey, LilyAnn. How’s it going?”
Mike looked up. It was Rachel Goodhope and her husband, Bud.
“Hello, Rachel…Bud… Looks like everyone had the same idea tonight. Granny’s cooking supper, right?”
“Well, we know it’s not me. I do enough cooking at the bed-and-breakfast,” Rachel said, then threw back her head and laughed.
The sound of her laughter was just enough to catch T. J. Lachlan’s attention. Lily saw his head come up as he swept the room until he located the woman. The look of lust on his face was impossible to miss.
Lily glanced at Rachel just long enough to notice her form-fitting pants and sweater. Black was a good color on her. But when she realized Mike was talking to Bud about Rachel’s workout habits, her shoulders slumped unconsciously.
“Rachel is pretty faithful about the workout regimen we set up. You should come sometime. I know you’re still laid up from that fall off your four-wheeler, but I have a really good masseuse on the premises. She could help you with those muscle cramps.”
“I’ll give it some thought,” Bud said.
Lily frowned. Not only did she not know that Bud Goodhope had suffered an accident, but she also did not know Mike had hired a masseuse.
“When did that happen?” she asked.
Mike shrugged. “She’s been there almost six months.”
Before Lily could comment further, the waitress returned with their food, and after giving Mike a long lingering look, Rachel and her husband moved on.
For a short time Mike and LilyAnn were involved in passing salt and pepper and trading sauces. When they began their meal, they ate with few words between them.
Lily rarely took her eyes from her plate. She didn’t want to look up for fear someone would be looking at her, so she kept peeling shells and dipping shrimp.
From Mike’s perspective, something was going on with her, but he couldn’t figure out what was happening. She was always quiet, but tonight she was completely withdrawn. Finally, he slid a hand across the table and patted her hand.
“Hey, you.”
She looked up. “What?”
“Are you mad at me? Did I do something wrong?”
Lily’s stomach knotted. Mike was too observant.
“Of course I’m not mad at you. I have no reason to be.”
He smiled. “Thank goodness. It’s just that you were so quiet, I thought…”
She shrugged. “Sorry. I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”
“About what, honey?”
Her eyes narrowed. “About the fact that my life is going nowhere.”
Mike’s heart skipped a beat. Oh my God! Is this LilyAnn waking up?
“So where do you want it to go?” he asked, and then dunked his shrimp in her red sauce because his was all gone.
She wouldn’t look across the room. There was no need baring her soul to Mike. He wouldn’t understand.
“I don’t know for sure, but I’m in a rut. I need to make some changes, but I’m not sure where to start.”
“Start with something easy to identify,” Mike said.
She nodded. “Yes, I’ll think about that.”
He beamed. “If you need help or advice, you know where I live.”
She laughed, and like Rachel, the sound carried over the noise in the busy room.
* * *
Once again, T. J. Lachlan’s head came up as he scanned the room. He couldn’t identify the woman who’d laughed, but he was a man who operated on gut instinct and that was a sexy laugh, which meant he was interested in the pursuit, although thanks to his deceased mama and his ex-wife, whatever trust he might have had in the opposite sex was gone. One had abandoned him and the other had taken all his money and run off with his best friend. He’d been down on his luck until learning that he’d inherited his uncle’s place. This was going to be his ticket to better things and if he broke the hearts of a few bitches along the way, so much the better.
The men he was eating with were simply a means to a
n end. Being the new guy in town, he’d used them to insinuate himself into the social life. He didn’t know what his future plans were, but he liked to walk on the wild side. However, it was already apparent the Wilder brothers would never get him into the right social circles he needed to be in to unload the big house. So, it’s what he got for picking his connections in a bar. However, it was one night and one dinner, and he was seeing people he’d already met. It was time to say hello to the ladies from The Curl Up and Dye.
“Hey guys, next time the waitress comes back around, tell her to bring me some more fried shrimp and another Coke. I’ll be right back.”
He got up, leaving the Wilder brothers to their shrimp plates, and sauntered across the room, making sure to nod and smile at the people at every table he passed. By the time he reached the booth where the girls were sitting, they were coming to the conclusion he had to be a player.
“Just look at him,” Ruby muttered. “He’s working the room. All he needs is to pull out a deck of marked cards and find his first sucker.”
Mabel Jean smiled.
“If he’s playing strip poker, I’ll volunteer,” Vesta said, then looked at her sister and snickered.
Ruby grinned. The twins didn’t trust men, but it appeared they weren’t above using one now and then if the mood hit them just right. Personally, she wouldn’t touch T. J. Lachlan with a ten-foot pole. He reminded her enough of her ex-husband that it made her want to deck him where he stood just to watch him bleed.
“Well, I’ll be. I think he’s coming over here,” Ruby said, and wiped the grease off her fingers as he kept coming toward them.
“Evening, ladies,” T. J. said. “Thanks for recommending this place. It’s great.”
“No problem,” Ruby said, eyeing his dining companions. “I see you’ve already met the Wilder brothers.”
He rolled his eyes in a self-deprecating manner. “Yes, I was introduced to them this afternoon.”
“Which means you must have been playing pool at the Eight Ball, because that’s where the Wilder brothers conduct their business,” Vesta said, then smiled brightly.
T. J. frowned, uncertain if these women were making fun of him or honestly oblivious.
