Love's Lingering Doubts (Love's Texas Homecoming Boo 1; First Street Church #9)

by Sharon Hughson

  She wandered over to the table where she’d had lunch with Bailey.

  Bailey who needed her help. Bailey who admired and respected Drew. Bailey whose grin did all sorts of crazy things to her intestines.

  Bailey who she could not care about because he belonged to Sweet Grove.

  The doors swished open. Peals of laughter and light spilled into the yard. Jaz turned.

  The man she was trying to evict from her thoughts strolled toward her.

  * * *

  As soon as Jaz walked his way, Bailey’s spine relaxed. He wanted to hug Tess for forcing them together.

  During the game, he and Jaz ribbed each other until they found their rhythm. After that, the other team, which included the group’s leader, had no chance. Jaz could hit a double with one of every two darts she threw, and even he was sick of hearing the dartboard’s female voice say, “Triple. 60!”

  Of course, he could hit the center of the board with regularity, too, so it wasn’t all Jaz who gave them the win. A flush of pleasure he hardly remembered warmed him by the time the game finished and the leader asked a blessing on the snacks.

  He checked in with Tess, whose two admirers were being held at bay by a group of ladies. When he grabbed a plate, Jaz was gone.

  The warmth receded. His stomach bucked a little.

  Elise elbowed him in the kidney. “She’s outside.” She glared at the doors leading to the yard.

  Bailey wanted to play dumb, but it wasn’t worth the effort. Between Tess and Elise, he and Jaz were being thrown together. Why fight it?

  Balancing his plate on the pop can, he opened the door and gulped the cool air. After a few blinks, his eyes adjusted. Jaz sat at the table they’d shared the week before, a bemused smile on her generous lips.

  Bailey’s heart sling-shotted toward her, as if it could make his feet move faster. After setting down his plate, he took a drink of pop to buy time for his brain to manufacture words. The carbonation burned a path down his throat.

  “We make a pretty good team.” His knee bumped the table as he tried to fold himself onto the bench.

  Jaz snatched up her drink. Heat flashed up the back of his neck, and he fought the urge to rub the spot with his hand. He reached for his hat, only to realize he’d left it inside.

  “We’re unstoppable.” Jaz grinned and tipped the can to her lips.

  Bailey stared at the aluminum with envy. When her eyelids flickered, he snapped his traitorous gaze to his plate. He fumbled a chip into the pile of salsa beside it. The crunch of it between his teeth deafened him.

  “How many bullseyes was that? Six?” She fingered a square of cheese onto a cracker. “And you haven’t played since college?” She snorted.

  The sound should have been unattractive, but Bailey’s pulse skittered like a spooked horse. Everything she did made him crazy.

  Bailey jerked his chin down and stared at his plate. He needed to get a grip.

  “Did you play a lot in college?” she asked.

  Bailey swallowed another chip. “Most of the guys preferred pool, so the dart boards were available.”

  “Pool. I played plenty of that on the base, too.”

  Of course she did. How could he forget that she’d spent six years in the Army? And what had he done with his life?

  He shook the critical voice away. Bailey took care of his family. That’s what was important to him. He would never let Tess feel the abandonment he’d experienced when they became wards of the state.

  “A dart master and a pool shark.” He grinned to chase away his dark thoughts.

  She laughed. The sound rolled over him like cool water on a hot day. He memorized the lines of her square jaw and broad cheekbones.

  She popped half of a cracker with cheese into her mouth. Her movements mesmerized him.

  She froze, her eyes locking with his. “What? Do I have something on my face?” She swiped at her chin.

  Bailey swallowed, and it felt like razor blades. If he didn’t stop staring, she was going to run away screaming.

  He forced himself to look at the pop can beside his plate. “Just a whole lot of too-pretty.” The words came out in a strangled whisper.

  She laughed again. “Who knew you had a line like that in you?”

  He blinked at her. “Line? I don’t have any lines.”

  Her smile fell away, and her eyes flickered between his, looking for something. He would never joke about the way a girl looked.

  “Wow.” The word was an exhale. She shook her head, but disbelief clouded her features. After chewing a few more crackers, she asked, “So how much did the part for Old Red cost?”

  He kept his attention on his food. “A hundred bucks.”

  “I’ll get the cash to you tomorrow.”

  He looked up. “Carrier pigeon?” And smirked.

  “Ha ha.” But her gorgeous lips twitched into a smile.

  Maybe he could make a joke.

  An hour later, he loaded her bike into the back of his truck while Tess slid into the passenger seat of Elise’s car. Their matchmaking was so obvious it made him want to roll his eyes.

  But why? He was eager to spend more time with Jaz. It would never lead anywhere, but he’d crushed on this gorgeous woman for too long not to enjoy the time with her.

  On the drive to her house, they teased each other about their defeat in the second round of darts. The group had played 301, a game where you subtracted your score from 301 and had to land exactly at zero to win.

  “Hey, I can hit the bullseye. I never claimed I could hit any number.” Bailey’s grin stretched across his face.

  “Which was proven true multiple times tonight.” Jaz poked his arm.

  Tingles spiraled from the point of contact. He pulled into the drive beside a much newer Chevy truck.

  She reached for the handle at the same time he threw the truck in park. He tugged on her elbow. “Gentleman, remember?”

  Her white teeth flashed in the shadowy cab. He jumped out of the truck.

  “Who can’t hit a two on the dart board.”

  Her laughter wafted after him, sweeter to his ears than any bird song. He was still smiling when she slid out of her seat and bumped into him. His arms encircled her. The scent of corn chips and salt rushed him.

  Light from the porch cast a triangle of illumination across her face. Her smiling mouth trembled as her pale-eyed glance swept from his chin to his eyes.

  Her breath stuttered, sending warmth across his neck. Nothing could deter the automatic lowering of his face toward hers. When she tilted her chin to meet him, his heart twirled in glee.

  Those luscious lips didn’t taste like strawberries, but they were sweet. Their softness pressed into him, and something between a sigh and moan fled up his throat. Her fingers swept into the hair at the nape of his neck, and he deepened the kiss.

  There could never be enough of her. Her taste, her smell, and her presence filled something he hadn’t realized was empty.

  She drew back, far enough they could look at each other. His eyelids fluttered, and his lips prayed for another taste of her.

  “I’m not staying.” The whisper sent heat to his face and chills down his spine. “The only reason I’m here is because of a breakup.”

  She stepped back. His hands brushed the sides of her hips, longing to hold her closer.

  “A guy I was with for more than a year burned me good. Traded our relationship for a promotion.” Her mouth twisted into a sneer, but her eyes screamed her pain.

  Abandonment and betrayal. He knew their bitter flavor.

  He squeezed her waist. “I’m not that guy.”

  After a lengthy pause, filled only by the humming cicadas, she said, “Tonight was fun.”

  In her eyes he read the plea for understanding. And his mind accepted it. He ducked his head, nearly jamming the brim of his hat into her forehead.

  Her smile returned in a slow spread that made his knees weak. He clenched his hands to keep from pulling her to him. He lifted
her bike out of the truck, giving his hands something else to focus on.

  Her fingers brushed his when she grabbed the handlebars. “Thanks for the ride.”

  “Don’t forget.” He handed her the backpack he’d tossed into the bed, careful to release it before their fingers touched.

  He watched her hips sway as she walked to the house. The gears on the bike clicked as she rolled it toward the garage and leaned it against a wall.

  Spotlighted on the porch, she turned back. “See you tomorrow.”

  Then she was gone. The pained cry of the hinges when he shut the passenger door echoed something deep in his soul.

  Tomorrow couldn’t come soon enough.

  Then again, it would be one day closer to saying goodbye to Jaz. And his chance for love.

  7

  Jaz rolled the bike to a stop beside her car. Sunlight glittered off the windshield. A low woof sounded from the direction of the farmhouse. Dust swirled at her feet and flooded her nostrils with the aroma of animal sweat and dung, and a sweet, grassy scent that reminded her of Bailey.

  Her pulse throbbed in her neck. After that sweet kiss, her dreams had featured the handsome cowboy.

  He belonged to Sweet Grove. She was only here to pay for the alternator.

  The screen door creaked and slammed. Jaz pushed her bike toward the porch.

  Bailey’s sister wiped her hands on the front of a pink-flowered apron. Her face beamed, and light sparked in her sky-blue eyes, several shades paler than her brother’s and not nearly so captivating.

  Jaz shoved away thoughts of those soulful eyes and leaned her bike against the trunk of a fruit tree. “Morning. Bailey around?”

  Tess waved toward the barn. “Doing chores. He’ll be up for breakfast in a few minutes. Care to join us?”

  A groan from Jaz’s stomach pleaded one answer while her better sense told her to drop the money and run.

  “Biscuits and gravy, home fries, sausage patties, and lots of coffee.”

  Jaz grinned. “You had me at gravy.”

  Tess stepped back, nearly tripping on the brown and white dog Jaz rescued from the ditch. “Poppet, move.” More laughter than scolding filled the woman’s voice.

  Jaz followed her into the house and stopped at the sink on the screened porch. Poppet drooled on her bare calves. She crouched down and ruffled the dog’s ears. “Looks like you’re doing better.”

  Tess popped her head through the doorway. “Her limp disappeared after a couple days. She’s been mopey since Dad passed.”

  A weight slammed into Jaz’s chest. Their father had died. She was supposed to be helping them keep the ranch. With a final pat to the dog’s head, Jaz pushed to her feet and scrubbed her hands in the sink.

  She was still drying her hands on a paper towel as she entered the kitchen. Peach walls whispered of sunrises while a yeasty aroma blended with the greasy scent of fried meat. Her stomach rumbled.

  “I haven’t had home-cooked gravy.” She paused to consider and count back. “Since Christmas three years ago. My grandmother’s giblet gravy is a staple for holidays.”

  “No gravy in the mess hall?”

  Jaz grimaced. “The thin, lumpy, flavorless goop they drowned the potatoes in was not gravy.”

  Tess’s tinkling laugh filled the space between them. Jaz dropped her used paper towel in the trash and picked up the plates stacked on one counter. Her glance drifted through the window to the ramshackle outbuilding as she set the dishes on a table in a nook. If they wanted to make this place ready for guests, they needed an injection of cash.

  Which will be a moot point if that niece inherits the ranch.

  Jaz asked about Tess’s business plans while relocating silverware, napkins, butter, two kinds of jelly, honey in a crock, and two trivets from counter to table. Tess elaborated her plan to find investors to help with the necessary upgrades.

  “Are you going to cook and clean? What’s Bailey’s role?”

  Tess stirred gravy in a cast iron skillet. Her shoulders heaved. “I wish he’d head back to the city.”

  What? Jaz’s heart tripped over itself.

  The screen door slammed and boots clumped across the wooden floors. Jaz turned in time to see Bailey duck through the door and hang his hat on a peg. When he saw her, he froze.

  “Jaz is joining us for breakfast.” Tess peeked in the oven. “Wash up. Biscuits are ready.”

  “Yes’m.” He headed back to the sink where Jaz had washed. Rings of sweat circled beneath his arms, and his t-shirt clung to a muscled back. Her pulse tangoed and her stomach dropped. Did the man have to be so gorgeous?

  She tore her eyes away in time to catch Tess grinning at her. The kitchen’s temperature spiked, and Jaz fanned her stomach with her t-shirt.

  Tess filled a basket with golden buttermilk biscuits, and Jaz transferred it to the table. Bailey strode across to snatch a piece of sausage from the plate Tess had in her hand. She swatted at him with a spatula, and he made an exaggerated dodge.

  Something curled low in Jaz’s gut. It had been too long since she danced those brother-sister moves. A hole in her chest chimed Drew’s name. She ducked her head and shuffled to the far side of the table.

  Bailey carried the skillet to the table and set it on the central trivet. “Coffee?”

  His blue gaze singed her. A seizure behind her breastbone delayed her response.

  “Sure.”

  In short order, the three of them were seated. Tess bowed her head and Bailey followed suit. Jaz dropped her gaze to the table as the sexy masculine voice said, “For what we’re about to receive, Lord, we thank You.”

  Tess said “Amen” along with him, and hands reached for the food. Jaz snatched a biscuit just as Bailey seized the basket. The handle of the spoon in the pan of potatoes was untouched, so she scooped a serving onto her plate. Tess passed her the plate of meat at the same time Bailey forked the largest patty from it.

  “Manners!” This time it sounded like scolding. “Mom would snatch that right back.”

  Bailey shrugged, cutting a corner off his prize and popping it into his mouth.

  Jaz sampled some of everything. She was savoring her second bite of gravy-smothered biscuit when she felt his eyes on her. She glanced up and licked the fork clean. Heaven.

  Bailey’s eyes darkened.

  “The gravy’s not quite right,” Tess said.

  “It’s wonderful.” Jaz prepped her fork with another bite.

  “It’s missing something, isn’t it, Lee?” Tess stared at her brother while licking some gravy from her fork.

  Bailey swallowed a mouthful. His plate was half-empty. He sipped coffee and glanced at Tess. “Maybe. Still haven’t found a recipe?”

  “She probably didn’t write it down. I’ll have to experiment.”

  Jaz swallowed another bite. “My grandmother adds a dash or two of Worcestershire Sauce to her country gravy.”

  Tess snapped her fingers. “I’ll try that.”

  Breakfast passed in a flurry of delicious tastes and smells and light conversation. Tess tried to shoo them from the kitchen, but Bailey insisted on cleaning up. Jaz volunteered to help, and Tess, wearing a sly smile, scurried out of the kitchen.

  They worked in tandem, Jaz clearing and Bailey washing dishes. As she dried things, he directed her to the correct cupboards. Camaraderie blanketed the room.

  She patted her stomach and groaned. Bailey glanced her way, his devastating grin sneaking onto his kissable lips. Heat melted her fullness to something else.

  Once she hung the damp dishtowel over the back of a chair, Jaz reached into the armband that held her phone. She cut off Bailey’s retreat toward the door and held the folded bills out to him.

  He grunted and ignored her hand. Jaz stepped onto one of his booted feet and slapped the center of his chest with the money.

  Balance fled and she wobbled. His hands cradled her hips, steadying her. She tilted her face toward his, sucking air at the expression on his tanned face.

>   “I’m fixing it as a friend.” His voice was gravel.

  Chills rippled up her spine. “Did you buy a part?”

  He pursed his lips and nodded. That mouth.

  “I’m reimbursing you.” She smacked his chest again. “I might let you do the repair as a favor.” She arched an eyebrow at him, daring him to argue.

  His gaze flitted to her lips. An exhale fanned her features. She leaned toward him, tugged by a gravity that defied all reason.

  “For parts.” His hand folded over hers, trapping it against his chest.

  His head lowered, and his lips crushed hers. She whimpered and opened to him, drawing him into a deeper kiss. Her legs turned to jelly. When he ended the contact, she crashed against his chest.

  Harsh breaths ruffled hair at her ears. “I’m not getting anything done.”

  Jaz grinned, shoring up her strength to ease away from the magnetic heat of his chest. “I wouldn’t call that nothing.”

  A snort from behind them made Jaz whirl. Tess stood in the hallway, one thin hand over her mouth and nose.

  “Nice.” Bailey snatched his hat from the peg and strode out the door.

  Jaz stared after him and shrugged off the pull to follow.

  “Thanks for breakfast.”

  Tess smiled. “Thanks for making my brother smile.”

  What did a person say to that?

  Jaz had reached her bike before she heard Tess, now on the porch, call her name.

  “Don’t let him scare you off.”

  Jaz laughed, backing her bike toward the rutted driveway. “I don’t scare easily.”

  After every crushing loss she’d faced, maybe she should.

  8

  Honey Campbell knocked on the door at half past noon on Sunday. “I’m here to see my ranch.”

  The shrill voice acted like acid on Bailey’s nerves. He heard her from the study, and his stomach plummeted through the floor while some part of him hardened against more pending loss.

  He reached the doorway by the time Tess, eyebrows pressed together in confusion, led a stranger into the room.