by Lisa Moreau
“Maybe Fran didn’t go out of town,” Emily whispered.
Sydney turned off the flashlight. “Let’s get a little closer.”
“Hold up, Indiana Jones. What if we step on a cow patty or minefield or something? I can’t see where I’m walking without the light.”
“Just stay close to me.” Sydney slipped her hand into Emily’s.
Ahh. That felt nice. Pole dancing obviously hadn’t given her calluses. Her skin was soft, warm, and reassuring. Emily probably would have followed Sydney anywhere. When was the last time Emily and Gretchen had held hands? Come to think of it, had they ever?
When Sydney stopped, Emily crashed into her backside, breasts pressed into firm muscles. Sydney tensed at the contact. This probably wasn’t what she meant when she said to stay close. For once, Emily was glad it was dark, certain she was blushing. Having Sydney against her felt much too enjoyable. Emily took a big step back and dropped Sydney’s hand.
“Why’d you stop?” Emily asked.
Sydney cleared her throat and took a moment to respond. Finally, she pointed and said, “Look.”
Emily’s jaw dropped. “Holy crap.” She was staring at a sea of fig trees. How in the world was she supposed to find twenty Madagascar lovebirds in all that? She was a bird-watcher, not a miracle worker. Unfortunately, this meant Emily needed Fran to show her where they were nesting. She couldn’t accomplish this mission alone.
They both shielded their eyes when a silhouette shined a mega-spotlight on them. Emily froze, terror shooting through her gut like a sharp, hot knife. It was Fran. She was sure of it. There went Emily’s chance of ever gaining her trust. Not only that, but Emily was surely going to the slammer now. Cockroaches and rats, here she came.
“What are you two doing out here?”
That wasn’t Fran’s voice.
“Bud? Is that you?” The light clicked off, and Emily put a hand over her heart. “Oh, thank God, it’s you.”
“That still don’t answer my question, missy.”
“We…uh…”
“We broke in,” Sydney said.
Emily gawked at her. “Geez. Way to cover.”
“Sometimes it’s futile to lie.” Sydney shrugged.
Bud tipped his cowboy hat back and pinched his lips. “You tryin’ to steal Fran’s figs?”
“No, no. Of course not.” Emily waved her hands.
“You said you’re a…a”—Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it—“a fig investor.”
Damn. He said it.
Sydney’s head jerked to Emily. “Investor? I thought you were writing a story about humongous fruit.”
They both stared at Emily with non-blinking, wild eyes, making her want to shrivel to the size of a housefly and scram.
“I think a better question is, what are you doing here?” Emily asked Bud.
“Fran has me check on her place when she’s out of town.”
“Oh.” Emily ran trembling fingers through her hair, trying to ignore the fact that Sydney was still staring at her. “Look, Bud, we’re not here to steal anything. All we wanted to do was look over the farm. I can’t complete my assignment without doing so, and we both know Fran would never allow that.”
Bud nodded in slow motion. “Yep.”
Emily sighed. “I’m glad you understand. So this will be our little secret?”
“Nope.”
“You’re going to tell Fran we’re trespassing?”
“Yep.”
“You can’t!”
Sydney placed a hand on Emily’s shoulder, possibly to hold her back from decking Bud.
“Maybe we can reach an agreement,” Sydney said, her voice much too calm considering the circumstances. “Obviously, this is important to Emily…for whatever reason…” Sydney shot her a weird look. “Is there anything we can do for you in exchange for keeping quiet?”
Bribery? Oh my God. How many laws were they going to break tonight?
“Well, there is one thing,” he said.
“Anything. Just name it.” Emily would restock his worm tank, fry burritos, and even gut fish if she had to.
“Git me a date with Fran.”
“How’s that?” Emily couldn’t have heard correctly.
“I’ve been askin’ her out for up to three years now, and she ain’t a-budging.”
“Wait a second. You’re asking us to play matchmaker? With someone who hates people?”
“Yep.”
“That’s impossible.” Emily shook her head.
“Now, now, nothing’s impossible.” Sydney held out her hand. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”
Bud pumped Sydney’s arm twice and said, “I’m holdin’ you to that, young lady. Now you two better git going.”
Emily opened her mouth to protest, but Sydney practically knocked the wind out of her when she grabbed Emily’s arm and tore down the trail.
“Are you nuts?” Emily asked, trying to keep up with Sydney’s quick pace. “You haven’t met Fran. She’s a scary woman. What makes you think we can get her to go out on a date when Bud’s been asking for three years now? I don’t have time to make a love connection. I’m here for a bird…”
Sydney stopped and looked directly at Emily. “Aha! I knew you were lying. World’s largest figs, my ass. Give it up. What’s all this about?”
“All right. Fine.” Emily blew out a strong breath. “I’m looking for lovebirds.”
“Yeah. So? What makes these so special?”
“All lovebirds are special. They’re my favorite. Remember? I need to get into Fran’s good graces so she’ll show me where they’re located.”
“So what are you going to do?”
Emily shot Sydney a dirty look. “I guess the first thing I need to do is get Bud a date.”
Sydney winced. “Sorry. I was just trying to help.”
The sincerity in Sydney’s eyes softened Emily. “It was my fault. I never should have agreed to trespass.”
“But you did admit it was exciting.” Sydney’s smile lit up the night so much that Emily couldn’t help but join her.
“Yes. It was.” Emily grabbed Sydney’s arm. “Promise me you won’t tell anyone about the lovebirds. This is too important.”
Sydney’s gaze fell to the ground.
“Sydney?” Emily squeezed firm muscles.
“Right. Of course. Who would I tell?”
Chapter Eleven
Tutor Time
This was a first. Sydney never woke up at six a.m. She’d been so tired after the farm excursion that she went right to sleep, and on the couch no less, when it was her turn to take the bed. She yawned and stretched like a lazy feline, arms and legs pushed against the armrest. It was an ungodly hour, but she really needed to get moving. She had a lot to accomplish before the PowerBar audition.
Sydney sat upright and grabbed her phone to check messages. Geez. Was Owen impatient or what? He’d sent three texts late last night after she’d already gone to sleep wondering what she’d found out. Sydney typed a response.
Emily is doing a lovebird story. We got access to the farm but didn’t find anything.
Owen immediately responded. Lovebirds? She’s lying again. Find out the real story or else no reward.
Sydney tossed her phone onto the coffee table, feeling like a big, fat rat. This spying thing would be a lot easier if she didn’t like Emily so much. Sydney had to look out for herself, though. That’s the way the world worked. She bounded off the couch, slipped on gray sweats, picked up the box of books she’d taken out of the bedroom closet, and headed into the kitchen. After making a pot of coffee, she opened the sliding-glass door and stepped onto the deck. From this vantage point she could see when Emily went into the kitchen and would have time to hide everything. She’d barely been able to conceal the books when Emily caught her on the sofa yesterday morning.
After spreading the material out on the table, Sydney settled onto the bench. This was the absolute last thing she wanted to do. Why couldn’t she ju
st practice her pole routine? That was something she understood. Several sips of coffee later, she cracked open a book. Within just a few minutes, the words blurred, causing her to blink rapidly. This made no sense whatsoever. Was it even written in English? She turned a page, studied it a few minutes, then turned another one. It was all gibberish. She slammed the book shut and grabbed another one, which wasn’t much better. Within seconds, her eyelids drooped. This was the most boring thing ever. She shook her head and gulped down more coffee.
“Wake the fuck up and get this stuff done,” she mumbled to herself.
With posture as straight as that of a runway model, Sydney opened her eyes wide. It had probably been only a minute or two when her head bobbed and her forehead hit the book, jarring her awake. Obviously, she wasn’t going to accomplish anything until she got some more shut-eye. That should teach her to get up so early. Sydney yawned and rested her head on the table. Just a minute or two of sleep and she’d be fine.
The next thing Sydney knew something tapped her shoulder. She jumped upright, glad to see it was Emily and not a bear…or maybe not so glad.
“What’s all this?” Emily asked, eyeing the books.
“Nothing.” Sydney threw herself over the table in a lame attempt to hide her dirty little secret.
“Then why are you acting like a lunatic?”
When Emily sat across from her, Sydney sat upright and tried to avoid eye contact.
“What’s going on?” Emily’s tone was laced with kindness, which made it even worse. The last thing Sydney wanted was pity.
“I’m studying,” Sydney said, finally looking Emily in the eye.
Emily brightened. “For what?”
Sydney chewed on her lower lip. “For my…uh…my GED.”
“But…that’s for…oh.”
“Right. My high school diploma.”
Why did Emily have to be the one to find out that Sydney was ignorant? For some reason, she wanted Emily’s admiration, not shame.
“I quit school my junior year when I left home. I never graduated. I know, I know. I’m a dummy.”
“You are not!”
“The last thing I want is a pep talk, and I don’t need you feeling sorry for me.” Sydney bolted upright and walked to the railing, her back to Emily. She gazed out at the forest, desperately hoping Emily would retreat into the cabin and leave her alone. No such luck. Emily stood beside Sydney and stared at her profile.
“I didn’t walk in your shoes, Sydney. I don’t know what you went through in your life. I’m sure you did the best you could.”
Sydney looked into Emily’s beautiful brown eyes. She was perfect. Perfect complexion, perfect lips, perfect everything. She’d probably gone to the best, most expensive college that her doctor dad could afford.
“That’s right,” Sydney said. “You have no idea about my life.” And you never will if I can help it. What would Emily think if she knew Sydney had worked in a seedy nightclub? She’d think stripper for sure.
“I’m not judging you. Not getting your high school diploma doesn’t make you less than. And look what you’re doing.” Emily motioned toward the table. “You’re working on getting your GED.”
Sydney snorted and shook her head. “I don’t understand one thing in those books. And they’re Dummies books! What does that say about me?”
“You’re really hard on yourself. It’s been a while since you’ve been in school, and it is a lot to learn.”
“This is worse than pity. Now you’re humoring me.”
“I am not! Oh my God. Could you be any more exasperating?” Anger flashed across Emily’s eyes. She gripped the railing hard, muttered something to herself, and focused on the pine trees. After a few moments, she turned and looked at Sydney.
“Lord knows why I’m offering this, but maybe I could help you study.”
“That’s even worse than pity! That’s charity!” Sydney said, throwing her hands up in the air.
Sydney breezed past Emily, stormed into the kitchen, and flew out the front door, wanting nothing more than to drive at dizzyingly fast, record-breaking speeds. She stood on the sidewalk and frowned. That couldn’t happen when Emily’s BMW was blocking her in. Instead, Sydney did the next best thing and took off running. Luckily, she was wearing sweats and sneakers. It didn’t take long before her heart pounded and her legs ached, but that didn’t stop her. Maybe if she moved fast enough the motion would empty her mind and drown out her mother’s irritatingly shrill voice, the one that would stab her in the heart when she was a kid.
You’re not good enough.
You’ll amount to nothing.
Run faster so she can’t catch you.
You’re a rotten kid.
Pump those arms harder. Go…go…go…
You’re such an idiot!
Sydney’s legs gave way, and she tumbled onto the ground, breathless. She grabbed a handful of grass and yanked, squeezing the blades in her palm. How could Sydney’s mother still affect her? She hadn’t seen the woman since she was seventeen. Sydney wiped away an angry tear, determined not to let her mother’s words ever wound her again.
* * *
This wasn’t going to be fun. Apologies never were. They required too much emotional sharing and, God forbid, maybe even a hug. Sydney creaked open the cabin door and peeked inside. Emily wasn’t in the living room. Maybe she’d headed out for the day. She closed the door behind her and went into the kitchen. Not in there either. Hopefully by the time Sydney saw Emily again she’d have forgotten all about her little outburst. Sydney felt her shoulders slump when she spotted Emily on the deck, standing in the same place as when she’d stormed out like a cranky toddler.
Sydney attempted to check out her reflection in the microwave. The last thing she needed was for Emily to see that she’d been crying. Now that would be embarrassing. She wiped her eyes and fluffed her hair. Ugh. She looked like crap. Did she have time to run upstairs and do damage control? It shouldn’t matter what she looked like, but Emily was so adorable Sydney didn’t want her to think she was a slob. Oh well. She might as well get this over with.
When Sydney slid the screen door open, Emily twisted around to face her. See? Adorable. Wind-tossed chestnut hair, glowing complexion, faded jean shorts that showcased smooth, pale skin, and salmon-colored T-shirt that hugged beautiful curves.
Sydney walked across the deck and nonchalantly rested a hip against the railing. “Sorry I blew up at you.”
“Why did you?”
Of course Emily would have to ask the most difficult question. Sydney turned and faced the forest. It was easier to tell this to the trees than to Emily.
“I get a bit defensive when I think maybe my mom was right about the things she used to say about me.”
“Did she call you a dummy?”
Sydney bowed her head. “That and more.”
“She didn’t hit you, did she?” Emily placed a hand on Sydney’s arm.
Something about the sound of Emily’s voice and the softness of her touch sent waves of warmth radiating across Sydney’s chest.
“No.” Sydney faced Emily. “I know the things she said aren’t true, but sometimes they still creep up on me when I least expect it.”
Emily gritted her teeth, her face bright red. Was she angry? Sydney thought she’d done a pretty good job of apologizing.
“I cannot believe some people,” Emily said through tight lips. “You deserved better than that woman. I’m glad you left and never looked back.”
Oh. Emily was mad at Sydney’s mother. That was a first. No one had ever stood up for her before. Sydney felt an intense desire to wrap her arms around Emily, which was the weirdest thing ever. She wasn’t a hugger. In fact, she couldn’t even remember the last time she’d embraced anyone except in a way intended to lead to sex. Instead, she crossed her arms over her chest to keep from doing something foolish, not to mention embarrassing.
“You can do anything you put your mind to,” Emily said adamantly. “And my off
er from before still stands.”
Sydney drew her head back. “Really? You’d help me study?”
“Of course.”
“What do you want in return?” Sydney eyed Emily.
“What do you mean?”
“No one does a favor without wanting something in return.”
Emily gawked at Sydney in seeming disbelief. “I don’t know what kind of world you live in, but when I do a favor for someone it’s not to get anything back. So, what do you say?” Emily motioned toward the stack of books.
Normally, Sydney would rather die than admit she needed assistance, but Emily’s kind eyes and sincere tone made it easy to accept. Plus, she was screwed if she didn’t pass the test.
“Okay,” Sydney said.
“Good.” Emily smiled and slid onto the bench.
Sydney sat unnecessarily close to Emily, so close she could feel the warmth from her body. It was comforting, reassuring. That was even weirder than wanting a hug. Sydney would have to check the calendar when she went back into the cabin. Undoubtedly she was PMSing, which always made her overemotional and a bit needy.
“When’s your test?” Emily opened the science book.
“Monday.”
Emily gulped and turned to face Sydney. Wow. Her eyes were beautiful. Sydney had always thought they were brown, but from this distance she could see shards of red and orange, which made them look more russet than boring brown.
Emily gawked. “As in day after tomorrow?”
“Nothing like waiting till the last minute, huh?” Sydney forced a chuckle, which came out more like an inhumane, crazed tremor.
“If you don’t feel ready, why not just take it at a later date?”
Sydney shook her head. “I can’t do the PowerBar audition unless I have a high school diploma. It’s one of their prerequisites.”
“When’s the audition?”
