Closer To You (Tales of the Sweet Magnolia Book 1) (8 page)

“Lilly.” He pressed her forehead to his and closed his eyes.

“I’m sorry, I forgot about your injury.”

He chuckled quietly. “That was the last thing on my mind.”

A soft blush crept pink into her cheeks. “Then it did help some?”

He took a deep breath and licked his lips, tasting her on his tongue. Jesus, he was getting hard just thinking about her mouth. “Aw, sure Lil. It was fine. Just fine, thanks.”

She arched her brow. “Fine?”

“You couldn’t tell? Lil, I’m sure you’re a well-known expert in this. You don’t need me tell you that you’re very good at what you do.”

“Of course.” She escaped from him, scooting off the bed as she adjusted her clothes. His arms felt empty and part of him wanted to ask her to stay a while longer, but he knew better not to.

“You need new linens.” She spoke while focusing on refastening her buttons.

He smiled, feeling suddenly awkward, and reached down to draw the sheets over his lower body. Had he said something wrong? The truth was a bitter pill to swallow, but they both knew that no matter how much they might be attracted to each other physically…well, it just wouldn’t work.

“I’ll have Paddy and Cook bring up a wash tub. I don’t suspect it would harm you any to soak your stitches in some warm water.” With a quick brush of her hand through her hair, Lil checked her reflection in the mirror. She looked over her shoulder and flashed him a smile, though the joy of it didn’t reach her eyes.

“I’ll go see to your supper. You’ll probably be hungry after you’ve rested.”

Food? She could think about food at a time like this? “Lilly? Do you want to talk about what happened?” Maybe he hadn’t made himself clear. Maybe her behavior was entirely normal for a woman of her position.

“I’m just dandy, Sheriff. You should rest. I’ll have one of the girls bring up your food tray.”

If it was a different time, a different place, he’d pull her back into bed and give her the same pleasure as she had given to him, but reason argued how the scandal of it would spread like wildfire to his political competition. He settled instead on following her example. Leave the emotions out of it. But a seed of guilt planted itself in the back of his brain, and the fact that when he’d been giving Lil all the reasons that they couldn’t be together, Jake had forgotten to tell his heart not to get involved. And yet, Lilly seemed far less affected and
that
bothered him on a level that he didn’t want to examine. His eyes drifted shut. Weariness overtook him as he heard the sound of the piano and Lil’s sweet voice drifting through the house. His last conscience thought was that Lil was right, he sure as hell felt a lot less tense.

Lillian scolded herself for crying. She’d read enough to know that women in the parlor houses and bordellos were not looked upon in the same way as other women. They weren’t the women you thought of settling down and raising a family with. Many died at an early age due to diseases or at the hands of notoriously abusive men. Men came to such places for one thing—companionship for the evening. And when they laid their money down, it was the woman that made sure that whatever entertainment her client desired, from few moments of passion to a day of eccentric pleasures, was available. It was the Madam’s duty to see they got their money’s worth.

Gratefully, Jake had not broached the subject of money with her. As it was, he made it clear both before in his explanation and after by his comment, that he knew where the line was drawn between them. Lil chided herself for being so naïve. Why had she assumed that she’d be able to handle the mysteries of seduction in the past any better than in her own time?

Her own time.
That was a concept that she’d managed to tuck away over the past few weeks, with all the responsibilities she’d taken on. How long would fate keep her there? Could she truly survive being a Madam, likely having to move on in another year or so simply to survive? The dangers, the disease, having to forge her way alone—true, just as she’d been doing in her former life—but there were no benefits afforded to the modern day woman. It was a rough time and Lil it dawned on her slowly that she may well have to face it alone.
Dammit
. Lillian brushed her hand over her cheek, wiping away a tear. There was no time for wallowing in self-pity. How could she face Jake again, when even the thought of him stirred up all manner of pain and confusion inside of her? Lil needed time to steel herself against the feelings for him that had taken her by surprise. There was no question that she was attracted to him in the worst possible way and given the flash fire that had ignited between them, she wanted to believe he felt the same.

The trouble was that flash fires were normally just that—an instantaneous combustion that quickly fizzled out, leaving destruction and broken hearts in its wake. She twirled the ruby jeweled necklace between her fingers and considered whether a lifetime of loneliness was comparable to giving her heart freely to be broken.

A gentle tap sounded on her door. She’d moved down the hall distancing herself as far from Jake as possible in the house. “Miss Lilly? I took Sheriff Jake his supper like you asked me to.”

“Thank you, Nellie.” She laced up the corset-style placket on the bodice of the dress. Its effect enhanced her bust, much the same as a modern day push-up bra. The warm red ruby gem lay nestled in the valley of her cleavage, and she touched it remembering her few moments of unbridled passion earlier.

She had the sudden urge to plunk out a bluesy he-done-you-wrong honky-tonk song—maybe several and liberally laced with a good shot or two of whatever Paddy was serving. “Warm up the piano, Nellie. We’re going to rock this place tonight.” And so, belting out every song she knew from Billy Joel to Boston, Lil sang long and loud and slightly off key as the night wore on. She garnered more than her share of strange looks, but as long as Paddy kept the drinks coming, Lil kept the piano smokin’—all in an effort to purge Sheriff Jake Sloan from her soul.

In all fairness, the Kentucky Bourbon helped a great deal.

***

It had been three days since Lilly had seen Jake, two since she awakened with a headache the size of Carson City. She’d spent all day in bed, the shades drawn and refused to acknowledge the notes that Jake had tried to deliver via Nellie. What part of no did he not understand? As much as she guessed he wanted to maintain the “friendship” he claimed they had, the truth of the matter was that kiss had changed everything. It hurt like hell to lie to him because she was lying to herself, as well. Still, there wasn’t a damn thing she could do about it. He had his life, his political aspirations, and he was a good man with a promising future. She was the Madam of a house of cards, liquor, and loose women with little else but an extensive piano repertoire and no idea of what her future held. Her only hope was that with Doc coming by to check on Jake, he’d give him a clean bill of health to leave and she could boot him out of her bed and get on with her life— whatever that may be.

Lil swept her hair atop her head and secured it in place with combs like the girls had shown her. They’d taught her more than she could ever repay in this lifetime or the next. They were strong, independent women who only had each other as family. Given her circumstances, she found herself in a position of being a mother to her girls, many of them years younger than her. She stared at the necklace lying against her pale skin. If she turned just so, the sunlight would hit the ruby gem, making it appear to be winking demurely at her.

She thought then of Jake and the smoldering look of desire in his eyes. He was a complex man, and from the beginning she could see he was the type that wanted to help people, do the right thing by them and in truth, that quality made him a popular local sheriff and viable candidate for Deputy Marshall. Yes, doing the right thing was very important to Jake Sloan. How could she fault him for that?

But something inside Lil yearned to tell him that he didn’t have to try to be perfect around her. She understood what it was like to live up to other people’s expectations. And how sometimes, you have to follow your heart.

She stepped behind the canvas dressing screen and swirled her hand in the warm bath she’d had drawn. It had taken three men to pull another tub from downstairs, but they did so because it was for her. Already she was beginning to gain the admiration of her clientele for the way she chose to run her establishment. She’d made a few changes, set a few rules, and had turned the Sweet Magnolia into place where men could engage in a friendly card game and enjoy fine whiskey and the company of refined, intelligent women. She’d even started on a new advertising campaign, creating a small handbook, based on the historical success of the “blue books” that excelled the virtues of each of her girls and what the Magnolia had to offer in the way of entertainment. The more she used her knowledge to improve upon her current circumstances, the more comfortable she became with the idea that she might forever be stuck living in this era and further that she might have to do so as a single woman.

She slipped her robe from her shoulders and draped it over the rice-paper

screen blocking the tub from view of the room. Immersing herself in the warm water, she closed her eyes and rested her head on the rim of the old tub, letting her mind wander. Somewhere from the shadows of her thoughts, an old three-legged tabby cat appeared in her mind. Lillian felt a finger lift the jewel at her neck.

“It’s beautiful but doesn’t hold a candle to you.”

She opened her eyes and sank deeper into the water. Jake’s grasp on her necklace gave way, his hand left in midair. Her heart experienced a brief moment of panic. She’d convinced herself that she wouldn’t have to see him again, that she could get past the butterflies taking flight in her stomach. She glanced up at him, refusing to entertain thoughts of the bronzed and hard body that was under that chambray shirt and worn dungarees. “Why are you here, Sheriff? Is bathing in the morning considered a crime now?” She spoke in defense of her wayward emotions.

Unfazed apparently by her surly tongue and blatant ogling of his crotch, Jake pulled a chair closer to the tub. Turning it so he could lean his arms over the rounded back and straddle the seat, he rested his chin on his forearms, looking completely at ease.

Which was more than Lil was feeling.

“I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other day,” he stated, tipping back his hat. A short black shock of hair curled on his forehead, and Lil had to stop herself from reaching up to brush it away. She had no particular interest in discussing something that for three days and nights she’d been trying to forget. This required a switch of topic. “I assume this means that Doc thinks you’re feeling better.”

“You’ve been avoiding me.”

“You’ve been recuperating, Sheriff.” She let her fingers drift through the water, watching the ripples in the wake of her hand. “That’s your imagination, cowboy.”

“Is it?” He glanced away and chewed on his lip as though deep in thought. “If there was any other way, if this was any other time….”

The irony of his words brought a chuckle from her. “What you mean to say is that if I were a woman of any other profession, your voters wouldn’t mind us mattress dancing, right?” She’d called his bluff. Why not make him see things for what they really were?

His head snapped up with a look of surprise. She didn’t blame him for the response. Lil doubted that very many people spoke to him with such an attitude. But the truth was that she’d gotten to the point where she didn’t want to play games or candy-coat the inevitable so that he would feel better about it.

“I wanted to say thanks.” His voice smoothed over her skin like the warmth of the water, but the pain of his prejudice ran much deeper.

“Sure thing, Sheriff, anytime.”

“We’re from different worlds, you and me, Lil.” He was so right on that score.

“You’ve no idea how right you are about that. Think nothing of it. We had a few moments prompted by your injury. Clara Burton syndrome,” she muttered.

There was an awkward pause and then he stuck out his hand. “Friends?”

Tears clogged Lil’s throat making it difficult to breathe.
Please just leave
, she prayed silently.

She kept her eyes lowered, focusing on the water as his palm met hers. A sob hung in her throat threatening to choke her if she spoke. Lil simply nodded. A tear plopped in the water, and she breathed in to strengthen her resolve. His grip tightened. “Oh, now dammit, this is no time for tears.”

“Sorry.” She offered him a wobbly smile and swiped her fingers under her eye.

“But I can’t be your friend.”

“Come on, now, don’t do this.” He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles and when she tried to tug it from his grasp he held tight.

“I’ve no idea what you mean. Don’t do what? Have emotions, don’t care, or just swallow my dignity? Which would you prefer I
not
do?” She jerked free her hand. “Would you be so kind as to hand me that towel. And unless you wish to add more to your ‘do-not’ list, I suggest that you take this opportunity to leave.”

He stood, grabbed the towel that lay on the end of the bed, and held it out to her. For a moment he hesitated, and she saw an ornery glint flicker through his eyes. He pushed the towel toward her, and she snatched it from him. “For the life of me, I will never understand men.” She waited for him to leave, and when he didn’t, she released a frustrated sigh. “Fine, then turn around.” She twirled her fingers.

He cast his gaze to the ceiling, turned around, plopped down on the chair and folded his arms reluctantly across his chest. “This hardly seems necessary, does it?”

“Sorry, no more free shows. You think because I dress a certain way, or that because I run a parlor house, that I have no emotions, no feelings? Well, you are so wrong, buster. I do.” She jammed her finger into his shoulder causing him to lurch forward.

“Hey there—”

She ignored his warning. “First, just because a woman wears a cardigan and sensible shoes does not automatically mark her as a spinster, but for some apparent reason
that
turns men off.” She stepped from the tub and wrapped the towel around her.

Jake shifted to look at her. “What do you mean ‘turning a man off’? I don’t know what you’re so all-fired upset about.”

“Turn around!” Lil admonished pointing her finger at him. 

“Well for cryin’ out loud, all this
turning on
and
turning around
, you have me confused as all get out.”

“Well now you know how I feel, buster!” She had something to say and by God she was going to get it off her chest. “You’re confused? On the other side of the coin, I can wear the most provocative attire as a sexy bordello Madam, and it has the same effect.” The warring complexity in her mind frustrated her.

“I’m afraid you’re not making much sense.” Jake rested his elbow on the back of the chair. Sure he looked confused, but dammit so was she. Someone else ought to share in that.

“All my life, I pretended to be the ultra-intellectual, deep, understanding, and even-keeled sort of woman in hopes that I would attract the same kind of man. I thought if I could find someone like me, I’d be deliriously happy.”

Jake nodded and then frowned. “You’re losing me here.”

She paced in front of him, clicking her fingernail between her teeth, a habit she did when she was deep in thought. How to explain to him the ideas racing in her head finally collided in a tangled heap. She faced him dead on. “What the hell is wrong with me? I’ve tried everything—being soft and demure, smart and independent, sultry and wanton—and still I can’t seem to land my Mr. Right. There must be something wrong with me. Just tell me what it is, won’t you? As my friend?”

Jake scratched his head. With a goofy grin on his face, he walked over and stood toe-to-toe with her. “If you wore that animal print number I first saw you in, I guarantee you’d have plenty of men tearing each other apart to get to you.”