Deep Dixie (33 page)

She was watching him carefully.
“
I know you want Wendy to get to know her mother, Riley, in the right way, at the right time.
”

“
Momma still prays for that every day. But me...
”
He crossed the plush pastel carpet of the small but airy sunlit room, took the wallpaper bedeviling Dixie, unfurled it onto the workspace, and held it down for her to cut.
“
Dixie, am I a selfish jerk that I hope with all my heart we
don
’
t
hear from Marcia before we go to court?
”

“
If you are, then you
’
re not the only selfish jerk in this household. You aren
’
t even the only selfish jerk in this room!
”
She laid the straightedge down and scored it with the cutting tool.
“
We
’
ve all come to care so much for Wendy. I can
’
t tell you how much having her here has meant to all of us. She
’
s like the daughter I sometimes think I may never have.
”

“
Don
’
t say that. You
’
ll have a family, Dixie.
”
It made his heart ache to imagine otherwise. That Dixie might end up only caring for her older family members until they
’
d gone on and she was all alone in this big house, in this whole world...no, he couldn
’
t stand the idea
. “
It would be such a waste if you didn
’
t have a husband and children of your own.
”

She looked up at him, her eyes shaded by the brim of her hat, her voice husky as she spoke.
“
I hope you
’
re right, Riley. I
’
ve always wanted those things. I
’
m just not the kind of woman men are looking to marry.
”

“
Oh, yeah, men really tend to shy away from women who are smart, beautiful, funny—
”

“
Bossy.
”
She tipped her head back.

“
Confident.
”

“
Old-fashioned.
”

“
Virtuous.
”

“
Always have to have the last word.
”

He sighed, nodded, and let her have that very thing. If this went on much longer his vow of self-denial would mean nothing. He
’
d find himself down on one knee for sure, promising her that she would never end up alone as long as he drew breath. And that was one promise he could not make, not now—not yet.

She went on.
“
As far as Wendy and Marcia are concerned, let
’
s just say there are plenty of prayers going up that this all works out for the best.
”
The razor edge of the cutting tool growled against heavy paper as she made her final pass over it.

“
It
’
s not like I don
’
t want Marcia to ever see Wendy, you know.
”
He caught the roll of paper as it fell away from the sheet on the table.
“
Like you said,
‘
right time, right place.
’“

He put his hands to his hips and scanned Wendy
’
s new bedroom. From the fairy-tale canopy bed with Baby Belle perched on a hand-crocheted coverlet to the brand-new wallpaper with white fluffy clouds they were hanging in the room
’
s windowed alcove today, he could not have imagined a nicer place for Wendy to say her bedtime prayers and dream the sweetest dreams.

Dixie poked her tongue out, seemingly unaware of the action, as she fed the prepasted wallpaper slowly into a trough of water.

That she would spend a sunny April Saturday afternoon working to help make Wendy feel so special and welcome in what was, at best, a temporary home, touched him. She
’
d done it. Without even meaning to, she
’
d gotten to him. Big time. If he knew what was good for them all, he wouldn
’
t do a thing about it.

“
Here, let me do that.
”
He stepped forward.

“
Fat chance!
”
She angled her shoulder to block his access to the paper, which reminded him of a giant slimy noodle as she pulled it from the water and began folding it in accordion pleats.
“
You
’
re the ladder climbing, heavy lifting, keeping-your- decorating-tips-to-yourself part of this operation, remember?
”

“
How could I forget? After last time?
”
They had finally gotten those curtains up, he recalled, but not before they almost tore the house down.

“
Then just stand back, pal, and let me do my work.
”
She flapped her elbows a few times.

“
And your job would be...? Demonstrating the chicken dance?
”
He mimed birds
’
beaks opening and closing with both his hands.

“
Watch it, mister.
”
She glanced at her watch, ignoring him a bit too flagrantly.
“
I
’
ve got five minutes to kill while the paste sets up. Don
’
t make me have to get in my rowboat and come over
there and dunk you.
”

“
I
’
d like to see you try it. Just make sure you know how to dogpaddle before you do, though.
”
Riley laughed and turned away, craning his neck as he surveyed the alcove to make sure the walls were clean and ready to take the paper.

Behind him, Dixie huffed.

He went right on inspecting the wall.

Her tennis shoes crunched over the plastic dropcloth beneath the worktable.

He could just imagine her pacing, pouting, glowering at him to try to make him pay attention to her again. He feigned intense interest in a speck of dust in the corner of the alcove.

The plastic rustled some more, then all went quiet.

She
’
d given up awfully easy... He stood stock still, listening.

Quiet.
Too
quiet. Maybe he should just—

“
Hey!
”
He slapped his hand to the side of his neck just seconds after the splat of warm, watery goo landed there. He pivoted to find Dixie standing a few feet away, her hands dripping with water from the paper trough.

“
Oops, sorry!
”
Her eyes were big and her smile grew wide.
“
Guess I splashed you a little while I was dogpaddling by.
”

Laughter bubbled up from within him.
“
Okay, okay. You got me. You proved you could do it and you got me.
”

“
I got you!
”
She sang out in triumph, then, fingers still dribbling pasty water, launched into a victory version of the very chicken dance he
’
d teased her about earlier.
“
You think all you have to do is order me around and I will do your bidding.
”

“
Since when?
”
He laughed right out at that. How could you not laugh along with anyone usually so dignified acting like a nut and enjoying herself so much while doing it?

“
Since when?
”
She flapped and wriggled.
“
You have always tried to set yourself up as my boss, Riley Walker, ever since you ran that stop sign and we—
”

“
I ran the stop sign? Oh, that tears it.
”
In two steps he
’
d overtaken her. Latching one arm around her waist, he pulled her to his side so abruptly that she would have lost her footing if he had not had everything firmly under control.

Dixie gasped for air.
“
Oh, my!
”

“
Any more gloating and you
’
ll be doing a
Southern fried
chicken dance, m
’
dear.
”
He tugged her cap off, then lowered his face to within a few inches of hers and gave her a grin he was sure rivaled that of even the most roguish of Southern scoundrels.
“
You do know how to make Southern fried chicken, don
’
t you?
”

She blinked, her lips slightly parted.
“
I—
”

“
You have to dip the whole thing in batter first.
”
One arm supporting the small of her back, he dipped her backward.

She clutched at his shoulders with both hands.

He laughed then looked up from her flashing eyes to the waiting trough of water.

Her eyes widened even more.
“
You wouldn
’
t dare!
”

Even with every card stacked against her, she held her ground. What a stubborn...irritating...amazing...wonderful woman this was. He let his gaze fall on her mouth...felt his grip on her tighten...and drew a ragged breath as he looked into her eyes again.

She licked her lips.
“
You wouldn
’
t dare.
”
It was a whisper this time.

He felt himself smile.
“
Oh, yes I would. I
shouldn
’
t
, but I can
’
t help myself, Dixie.
”

* * *

The kiss startled and enlivened Dixie, made her happy and terrified all at once. Just like Riley, himself.

When he began to pull away, she curled her fingers into the soft cloth of his sweatshirt and drew him back for one more sweet, fleeting kiss. Then her hands relaxed and she let the shirt slide beneath her damp palms as he stepped back, his head still bowed.

“
Dixie, I—
”

“
No, let
’
s not talk it to death, Riley. We both felt that building up for days now, weeks even, and I think we both realize that while we might have enjoyed it, it just can
’
t...
”
She strangled on the words.

“
It can
’
t happen again.
”

Though that
’
s exactly what Dixie had intended to say, to hear it in his low, resonate voice, cut at her emotions like a dull blade hacking away at a tender flower. She shut her eyes and moved back a step and then another until the side of the work- table pressed against her hip.

“
We
’
re living under the same roof. Our businesses are interdependent. Our families have come to care about and count on one another.
”
She held her hands out, palms up and close to her body, making a stilted attempt at a shrug. Her throat got tight and her eyes stung, but she pulled a soft smile up from somewhere deep inside herself.
“
We can
’
t lay all that on the line for some misplaced romantic notions. What if it didn
’
t work out? I don
’
t exactly have a terrific track record with things working out.
”

“
Me, neither, though I
’
ve always remained friends with the women I
’
ve dated.
”

“
Then maybe we should just cut out the middle part and do just that—remain friends.
”
She took a deep breath, nudged her smile wider, then wider still until it worked as much on her as it was meant to work on Riley. Her spirits buoyed a bit. She stuck out her hand.
“
It
’
s a deal then. We
’
ll just stay friends.
”

“
Deal.
”
Though he shook her hand once it was hard enough to send a tingle all the way through her. Or should she blame his touch alone for that? Or the fact that she saw a hint of sadness in his eyes as he let his hand fall from hers.
“
Friends it is, then.
”