by Smith, CP
“He doesn’t want you dating his daughter?”
“Nope.”
“Any chance he’ll change his mind?”
“Doubtful since he wrote me a check for five million dollars to walk away from her.”
“He WHAT!”
He grinned at her outburst. “Five million.”
“Is he . . . is he rich or something?”
“Or something.”
“So, you’re what? On the run from her father? Planning to cross the border into Canada to escape the long arm of the law?”
“The long arm of the law?”
“Uhm, I’ve been watching old westerns with Asher.”
“Right,” he chuckled low. Asher had informed his brothers, who’d told Joe because they thought it was hilarious, that November had a thing for Clint Eastwood. She wasn’t watching westerns with Asher; she was watching them while he was gone.
“So, you’re gonna hang out in North Carolina for a while?”
Joe didn’t know how to answer that. He didn’t think Preston Armstrong was done by a long shot. He couldn’t buy Joe off, so he figured he’d try to dig something up that he could use against Joe to put a wedge between him and Bernice.
“For a few days. We have to get back eventually.”
“I still can’t believe he offered you five million dollars.”
“A man with that much money, it’s a drop in the bucket.”
“Good thing you’re not the type of man to be swayed by money.”
“Not in a million years.”
“I still can’t believe that amount, though. I mean, that’s a lot of money, Joe. Who does that?”
“Five million was an insult,” he growled, thinking of Bernice’s face. She was worth one hundred times that amount. It still wouldn’t have been enough to make him walk away, but five million was chump change to Armstrong. He’d all but spit in her face by saying she was only worth five million dollars.
“To the both of you,” she agreed.
“He should have offered more. A hell of a lot more.”
“You, um, sound like a man who’s found an angel with fire in her eyes.”
Joe smiled. He’d forgotten he’d told her that. “Yeah.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming home for a while?” He could hear a small quake in her voice.
Joe thought he saw movement on the stairs and turned his head, but there was no sign of Bernice. “Not for a while,” he mumbled back, his tone gentle. “But I have to keep an eye on Brandon, so I’ll be back several times a month.”
He knew she didn’t want to come out and ask him, but she did anyway. “So, it sounds like this might be a permanent relocation?”
“If I have my way, it will be.”
“I’m happy for you, Uncle Joe. But I’m going to miss you all the same.”
“Same here. Don’t ever doubt that. I love you, November.”
_______________
Five million was an insult. He should have offered more. A hell of a lot more. I closed my eyes as those words tumbled through my head. I tried to reason with myself why he would have said such a thing, but I was coming up with blanks after years of being pursued by men who only wanted me for my father’s money.
“You didn’t hear the beginnin’ of the conversation. You don’t know why he said that.”
I let that settle in for a minute.
The man I’d spent the last twenty-four hours with didn’t act like a man who wanted more money. I needed to remember that. I didn’t know who he was talking to or what they had said before I walked down the stairs, so I had no frame of reference.
“He sounded angry and insulted,” I whispered to the room. “He was angry and insulted when Daddy confronted us.”
Was he angry on my behalf or the amount of money?
“Stop this, Bernice. Stop bein’ a ninny. Joe was angry. Insulted Preston thought he could buy him off. No man is that good of an actor.”
I let that sink in for a minute and I calmed.
I heard movement downstairs, so I figured Joe was off the phone.
“You’re lettin’ your mind play tricks on you,” I whispered fiercely. “Here is your chance at happily ever after, and you’re lettin’ your rotten father put doubts in your mind because he’s a royal butthead. Joe isn’t Daddy.”
I let that sink in even more than my other arguments until I felt it deep in my soul. Joe was different than any other man I’d met. I knew this. I was letting old insecurities about why a man would want to spend time with me cloud my judgment.
Smiling at my newfound epiphany, I walked into the bathroom and looked in the mirror. My hair had dried naturally and was a mass of blonde waves. I looked like I’d spent the day on the beach. I normally smoothed it out, but it was sexier this way, I decided. I looked like a new Bernice. And I wanted that. A new Bernice for a new beginning. One who felt twenty again and thumbed her nose at her father without a care in the world. I’d lost some of that bravado over the years. Somewhere along the way, we’d been sucked back into their web and we hadn’t even realized it.
I bent at the waist and shook my head, fluffing and scrunching my waves until Julia Roberts would have been envious, then I turned and walked out of the bedroom, hell-bent on putting the insecurities my father had wrought upon me out of my head.
Eight
Prim And Proper
JOE WATCHED BERNICE struggle with her king crab, wincing when the spines dug into her delicate skin. He reached over and took it from her, snapping the crustacean in half so she could pull the tender meat out. He handed it back, then grabbed the rest of the legs and snapped those open as well, replacing each one before grabbing another. When he was done, he glanced up and caught her gazing at him with a look that was soft and dreamy.
“Thank you. I love the meat, but it hurts my hands to open them.”
He winked at her and speared his fork into his steak.
They’d driven into Buxton to eat at Sandbar and Grille, a restaurant that faced Pamlico Sound, the ocean inlet that sat between the mainland and the Outer Banks. The restaurant was small but lively, with a stage set in a corner. Wood tables and floors gleamed in the setting sun as patrons awaited the night’s festivities. They’d been ushered to a quiet table that overlooked the sound where they could watch the sun dip below the horizon. Once Bernice was seated, Joe had slid in next to her instead of across, where he could see her face. She’d been quiet on the drive up, so he’d sat close so he could discreetly manage whatever seemed to be bothering her.
He watched Bernice for a moment, trying to gauge her mood, and noticed her gaze kept wandering over his shoulder. He turned his head and saw a man sitting at the bar directly behind them. He had his eyes trained in her direction. Considering Bernice was a beautiful woman, it didn’t surprise him she drew attention. Especially since she was wearing a backless halter top that left no doubt to the imagination what wasn’t underneath. He turned back to Bernice and caught her picking at her food. The man was forgotten the moment he saw her fidget in her seat, her expression distant while a line marred her forehead.
“Say what’s on your mind,” he ordered, cutting into his steak. “It’s clear something is bugging you, so I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”
Her attention jerked to his, and her eyes widened momentarily then narrowed on him. “What makes you think I have somethin’ on my mind?”
Joe chewed his steak, his eyes laughing while he watched Bernice wiggle in her seat. “You haven’t gone more than five minutes without talking since we met.” She opened her mouth, no doubt ready to fire off what would be a hilarious rebuttal about a gentleman not pushing a woman for answers, but he raised his hand to ward off the sassy response. “Simmer down. I like that about you. No games. What you see is what you get.”
She sniffed in that cute way she had that said she was appeased by his answer but still had ruffled feathers. “Women really should have some secrets from men,” she sighed.
&nbs
p; He chuckled. “Considering you’re an open book, you might have to give up that pipe dream. So, spill. What’s got you preoccupied?”
She placed her fork on her plate, rolling her lips as if she were deciding. “I heard you on the phone.”
“You heard me talking to my niece?”
Her eyes shot to his with surprise. “Your niece?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Her name’s November. She works for me at the club.”
She looked down but didn’t answer. She seemed to be working something out in her head.
He leaned in closer so he could whisper in her ear. “Talk to me, baby. What’s on your mind?”
Bernice took a deep breath, held it for a moment, then let it out. “I promised myself I wasn’t going to ask, that I knew better, but I’d be a ninny not to bring it up, I think.”
He placed his fork down and cocked his head. “Go on and ask me.”
She nodded and dropped her eyes, gearing up. “All right. I heard what you said about my father. The part about how he should have offered you more money.” She looked up then and stared him straight in the eyes. Challenge and a little bit of insecurity stared back at him. She was a warrior with a soft inside that had been hurt more than a woman should have been by a parent. All of that made his blood burn with a need to claim and protect.
“And what conclusion did you come to about my statement?”
“That the man I’ve spent the past day with wouldn’t have wanted more money. That was my conclusion. I trust the man in front of me. I’m old enough not to stomp off half-cocked like a simperin’ debutante when I hear somethin’ that doesn’t make sense, but I still need to understand why you said it for my own peace of mind. Does that make sense?”
“Because,” he began with a low growl in his voice, “you’re priceless in my eyes. And you should have been in his. I’ve had a lifetime to know a good woman when I see her. He should have offered his entire fortune to keep you safe if he believed I was a threat. Instead, he tossed out chump change to him, hoping it would work. Where your children are concerned, you stand in front of a speeding bullet, not fucking dodge it and hope it doesn’t hit them instead.”
Her eyes began to glitter with wetness as she stared back at him. She cleared her throat, nodding as she reached out to grab her glass of wine, but the strain in her voice gave away her emotions when she muttered, “Your sons are fortunate to have you as their father.”
Joe reached out and grabbed her hand and drew it up to his mouth, twisting her wrist so he could place a kiss to the tender flesh on her wrist. “They’re gonna love you, Bernice.”
Her attention jerked back to his, and he saw hope burning brightly in her eyes. “You think?”
“I know.”
Bernice relaxed into her chair and smiled.
Crisis averted; Joe went back to his steak while Bernice seemed to think about what he’d said. The pleasant sounds of the restaurant were broken as a helicopter passed overhead in a whirling sound of blades. He glanced through the window in time to see it pass low on the horizon.
“Joe?”
“Yeah?” he answered absentmindedly, following the craft as it passed out of sight.
She seemed to hesitate. “I’m curious.”
That drew his notice, so he put his fork down and turned his full attention to her. He could tell she was working up to something.
“I was, uh, just wonderin’ how long you’ll be in town. I know you said a month the other day, but you have a life back in Tennessee, so I imagine you’ll want to get back to it eventually. Right?”
There it was. No bullshit. She asked what she wanted to know straight out instead of playing some mind game. “My brother’s stepson took over the club for me while I’m gone. My brother retired a few years back, leaving me solely in charge, but I think Brandon’s ready to be on his own. Since November does the books, I have two sets of eyes on the place if things go south. My plan was to consult with them a couple of times a month. To make sure everything is running smoothly until I don’t feel the need to keep an eye on things.”
Bernice listened as he explained without saying a word. When she ducked her head and took a deep breath, then looked up and squared her shoulders, he knew this was gonna be good. “Okay. Here’s the thing. I’ve lived my entire life in Savannah. Eunice and I made a family with Calla twenty-one years ago when her parents and brother died in a horrific crash. Leavin’ them behind would feel like cuttin’ out a part of my soul.” She searched his face for a moment, and her eyes softened. “But I would for the right man. Someone who’s earned my trust and my heart. I guess what I want to know is, what are your intentions? Where do you see this goin’ after you return home?”
Joe leaned back in his chair and cocked his head. She was willing to move to Tennessee. Would leave behind Eunice and Calla for him if things worked out between them. For eighteen years he’d bent over backward for a woman who only took. Giving the world to someone like Bernice wouldn’t be a hardship in the least.
“My intentions, Sweetcheeks, are simple. You’re the type of woman I want in my life until I draw my last breath. If things go the way I plan on taking them, you can either marry me some day, or we can live in sin if that’s what you want. But we’ll be doing it under the same roof in the same location. I’m not flying in just to fuck you on the weekends. I want a life with you that’s complicated and easy. I want to fight with you, laugh with you, and fuck you daily.” His voice dropped to a deep timbre. “Multiple times daily. That requires being in the same place.”
Her eyes glazed over at his mention of fucking her, burning a trail through his gut, before she glanced around the restaurant and warned, “Joe!” in whispered admonishment.
He reached out, tagged her around the neck, and jerked her to his mouth, kissing her for the whole restaurant to see, so she’d understand he didn’t give a damn who was listening. He was finally where he wanted to be, and he wouldn’t let anyone, not even Bernice’s old-fashioned upbringing, stand in the way of what he wanted.
God had clearly saved the best for last. He’d spent a third of his life in a miserable marriage. Ten more hopping from one bed to another, trying to erase those bitter memories, only to end up with a Southern belle who had a healthy appetite for what makes life worth living. His stars had finally aligned, and they were laughing at him. He was a hard man. Leather and sweat. Harleys and the open road with no destination. And he’d managed to land in the warmest place he’d ever visited: Coastal Georgia, where iced tea was a food staple, the locals called out a warm welcome in a smooth Southern drawl, and Georgia peaches came with pink toenails that matched their pink tennis shoes. It was heaven on earth, he figured, so he wasn’t leaving.
When he released her mouth, she gasped for air but didn’t push away. Despite her protest, she was prim and proper with a wild side. “The idea of living near the beach year-round sounds a hell of a lot better than drizzling winters in Tennessee. Especially since you’ll be there. So, I’m not leaving Georgia unless I need to. If you wanna go slower than we’ve been going,”—he shook his head because he wasn’t letting time slip away; they weren’t twenty anymore—“you need to think again. You’re in my bed, or I’m in yours, at the end of each day unless I’m out of town. I’m not playing games. I’m not fucking around. I’m too old for that shit. I want you in my life for as long as God sees fit. Does that answer your question?”
Bernice sat stunned, staring at him. He raised a brow, encouraging her to argue or acquiesce. For some reason, she looked terrified and turned-on at the same time, so Joe threw his head back and laughed. “You’re killing me, Sweetcheeks.”
Her eyes darted to the room again and she hissed, “Joe!”
At her admonishment, his head tilted down and he got right in her face. “Answer me. Are you gonna let me in your bed every night from here on out?”
“That goes without sayin’,” she bit out.
He leaned in closer. “Then why are you pissed?”
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nbsp; She looked around then whispered, “I’m not annoyed. I’m turned-on. And we’re in public, where I can’t do anything about it.”
He blinked at her admission, then his attention dropped to her mouth. “Best things in life are worth waiting for.”
“Yes,” she breathed out, “even if the road is rocky. But the whole restaurant doesn’t need to know.”
He smiled. “Every mountain, every mile?”
Her mouth twitched. “Did you just quote ‘On My Way To You’ by Cody Johnson?”
He grinned slowly and winked. “Eat up before I shock the prim and proper right out of you. If you can’t handle the restaurant knowing what I want to do to you, you’d better make it quick.”
She raised a brow at Joe and picked up her fork. “Momma is prim and proper. Eunice even. But I’m hardly proper when the mood strikes,” she replied, spearing a piece of crab meat. Joe had started to cut his steak when he felt a hand on his leg. He froze when its warmth ran up his leg until it found his crotch and rubbed firmly against his cock. He grabbed her hand and gritted his teeth at the speed of his erection—standing instantly—keeping hold of her hand, jerking Bernice gently out of her chair with a surprised squeak.
“Joe?” She sounded concerned.
He ignored the looks they drew as he headed toward the back of the restaurant, where the bathrooms were. A band had just taken the small stage and began to play while a woman dressed like a gypsy in flowing gauze, all the shades of the sunset, began to sing “Blue Bayou.”
Bernice tugged on his hand when they reached the women’s bathroom and he knocked on the door, looking over her shoulder at the room behind them. “Someone will see,” she argued urgently.
When there was no answer, he tried the knob and opened the door, tugging Bernice in after him.
“What are we doin’?” Her eyes were as round as saucers as he locked the door, then turned and backed her up against the wall, crushing her body with his.
