Dogwood Days (13 page)

“Sounds exciting.”

“Better than the alternative. I like it quiet.”

“I bet. So I talked the aldermen out of wanting to deputize half the men in town to help with the Dogwood Festival.”

Zane snorted. “I have to do that every year. Three of us can handle it. I swear they think this type of thing brings all the hoodlums to town or something. We mostly get a couple hundred middle-aged women who’ve dragged their husbands up here to see the flowers.”

“Scandalous. Who knows what they get up to in their spare time?”

“Hmm. You never know. I’ll keep a close eye on them. The only thing I worry about is the guys dying of boredom.”

Jefferson laughed and crawled into bed. He smothered a yawn and curled up with the phone pressed to his ear.

“You tired?” Zane asked.

“Yeah. I helped Clover with some stuff today. She’s freaking out a bit. Did you know she has an online store?”

“I did. She’s really talented. I have one of her restored hutches in my dining room.”

“Huh. That’s kinda cool.”

“I’ve helped her unload after one of her big shopping trips a couple times too.”

“You really are a good guy.”

“So you keep telling me.”

“Hey, Zane, you know I’m looking for a job, right?”

“I know.”

“I just—wanted you to know that.”

“Is it wrong of me to hope it takes a while for you to get one?”

Jefferson sighed. “No. A big part of me wants to stay, especially now. Is it too soon to say that?”

“No, Jefferson Lee. It’s not too soon at all.”

THE NEXT
few days passed in a blur for Jefferson. The Dogwood Festival started the following day, and he’d been involved in more aspects of the preparations than he’d ever wanted to be. The Dogwood Days banner now hung proudly across Main Street, and he’d made sure the town square was landscaped to absolute perfection at both his uncle’s and Clover’s requests. All the booths for the crafters were set up in a neat row down one edge of Main Street leading all the way to Cherry, where the parade route would begin.

All the floats were ready to go, and both Mr. Burkey at the market and Gracie had made sure to order enough food to feed the tourists. The church ladies had been baking for days, and the entire town smelled heavenly. Jefferson sat on one of the benches in the town square and let out a long breath.

“You loitering, young man?”

Jefferson looked up to find Zane crossing the green toward him. “Depends on what you’re going to do if I am, Sheriff.”

Zane walked up to him and held out a hand, then pulled Jefferson to his feet. “Find something better to keep you busy, I suppose.”

“How’s things in Black Springs?”

The sheriff had been called to the small town after a couple of home robberies the night before. It wasn’t a common occurrence in Blue Ridge County, so he’d taken care of the matter personally. “Got it handled. Couple of kids thought they could make a few bucks. Idiots.”

“You lock ’em up and throw away the key?”

“Well, I locked ’em up and called their grannies. Lord at the tongue-lashings. They’ve got court tomorrow, so I’ll be down there for part of the day.”

“You won’t be here for the start of the festival?”

“Afraid not.”

“Well, that’s crap.”

Zane wrapped an arm around Jefferson’s waist and began walking toward the diner. “I know. I’ll be back in the afternoon, though, in plenty of time for the parade.”

“That’s good.”

“Why? You miss me?”

“Ha. Hardly.” Such a lie. Jefferson found himself missing Zane every time they were apart. And wasn’t that just the most ridiculous thing ever?

“Why don’t I make it up to you? Dinner at my place tonight?”

“Yeah? You gonna cook for me, Sheriff?”

“I might. If you’re good.”

“Oh, I’ll be good.”

Zane groaned and tugged Jefferson around the side of the diner to the small alley. “I’m going to kiss you now, Jefferson Lee.”

“What’s taking you so long?”

Zane pushed Jefferson against the wall and stepped up close. His broad shoulders and muscled chest pushed right against Jefferson. “Can’t get enough of you.”

“You’ve not had much of me yet. Just wait. I get better.”

Zane groaned and pressed their lips together. Jefferson opened to him immediately, and Zane pushed closer, devouring Jefferson with his mouth. His hands roamed over the sheriff’s broad back, and Zane responded by gripping his waist and pulling their hips together. When they finally broke apart, Jefferson could barely stand. Zane didn’t appear to be in much better shape.

“Perhaps this wasn’t the best place for this.” Zane smirked as he glanced down.

Both of them were obviously very happy to be there.

“I’m not walking into the diner like this,” Jefferson griped.

“I’m not either. Guess we’ll just have to stand here for a bit.”

Jefferson leaned back against the wall, but he couldn’t tear his eyes away from Zane. “Nope. Bad plan. You’re too close. That’s not helping the situation at all.”

Zane’s phone rang, and he grinned as he answered it. The smile quickly faded. “No worries, Betty. I’m on my way.”

“What’s wrong?”

“Off to Woodville. There was a pretty bad accident. Looks like I might have to cancel our plans for later.”

“A sheriff’s work is never done.”

“If I can get back, I’ll call you. Sometimes these things take a while.”

“No problem. Although I am planning on going home and taking a nice, long shower. Just so you’re aware. Nice and long.”

“You’re evil. Why didn’t I know this before now?”

“You did. You’re just captivated by my charms.”

“I’m captivated by something, all right.” Zane pressed a quick kiss to Jefferson’s lips and stepped away. “I’ll call you.”

“Okay, Sheriff.”

Jefferson waited until his attraction to the sheriff wasn’t quite as obvious in his pants before he walked back over to his uncle’s house. He hadn’t been kidding, except the shower would be a cold one because he’d promised Clover he’d help her move her junk to her booth for the festival.

He hurried in that direction and found a surprise sitting on the front porch.

“Trent!”

His roommate pushed to his feet and jumped down the steps. He scooped Jefferson up in a giant bear hug. “It’s about time.”

“You should have called me.”

“I wanted to surprise you. I brought you some clothes and all your mail. Why do you get so many newspapers anyway? I have a box full in the truck.”

“Shut it. I read, you heathen.”

“I know, I know.”

“Why didn’t you go inside? Uncle Sherman’s here.”

“Oh, I know. And so is the mayor? I don’t know, but they’re having a rather heated discussion, so I figured I’d wait on the porch.”

“Crap. Let’s go in. I’ll break ’em up.”

Uncle Sherman and Charles were in the study, glaring at each other.

“Nice, gentlemen. Really nice. You should both be ashamed of yourselves!”

Uncle Sherman looked up guiltily. “I, uh—”

“Nope. You were both rude to my friend, and I demand a fantastic dinner as an apology. He was hiding on the porch, Uncle Sherman! The
porch
, because you two were being awful in here. And I don’t see any tea in his hand either.”

“Now wait, he said he didn’t want—”

“Nope. Dinner. Uncle Sherman, you need the walk. Burkey’s is close enough. I think he has pork chops on sale. Charles? As our mayor, is this the example you want to set for our residents?”

Charles furrowed his brow, but he couldn’t hold his scowl. “No. We’ll make dinner. Let’s go, Sherman.”

Jefferson beamed at them both, then led Trent into the kitchen.

“That was kinda harsh, J.”

“Ha. I promise you, that wasn’t harsh at all. I have much bigger threats up my sleeve, and they both know it. You want some tea? Or I think Clover brought over some lemonade?”

“Really?”

“What?”

“You’re kinda acting weird.”

“No, I’m not.”

“Yeah, ya are. But I like it. You’re kinda feisty.”

“Holly Creek brings out the beast in me. Or something.”

Trent snorted. “Or something is about right. And lemonade sounds good.”

“You going to stay the weekend?” Jefferson asked as he fixed them both a drink.

“If that’s okay. Will your uncle care? I should’ve thought about that. It’s his house.”

“Nah, he won’t care at all. You’ll be here for Dogwood Days. It’s nice.”

“I noticed the sign when I came through town. Kind of a big deal around here, huh?”

“Not as big of a deal as any of the others.”

Trent looked puzzled but sat down at the table with his drink. “So how’s the job hunt coming? Any leads? You think you’ll be home soon?”

“Wow.”

“What?”

“I just realized I haven’t even logged onto the employment site all week. I’ve been busy with the festival preparations and lots of blogging for Uncle Sherman.”

“Um, okay. Not sure what I should say to that.”

“Probably remind me that I’m a grown-up and have bills to pay, including my half of the rent.”

“I told you not to worry about that,” Trent said.

“I know, but still, it’s my responsibility. Guess I got a little sidetracked.”

“Yeah? Something you want to tell me? Like maybe why it looks like you have a bit of whisker burn?”

Jefferson jerked his hand up to his face and groaned. “Well, I may have met someone?”

“Oh really? Do tell.”

“I told you about him, I think. His name is Zane. He’s the sheriff.”

“No way. You’re fucking the sheriff?”

Jefferson thumped his head down onto the table. “Not yet, because it’s been so crazy. We were going to go to his place tonight, but then he had to go to Woodville again.”

“I have no idea what that means, but okay.”

“Also, don’t drop the f-bomb in front of my uncle. He hates that word.”

“Jefferson, I know better than to curse in front of your uncle. My mother taught me manners, you know.”

“Yeah. I know. But just fair warning. Also, if you see Clover coming, run for your life.”

Trent shook his head. “I don’t even know what Clover looks like.”

“Cute little blonde, usually in a sweater set. Trust me, she’ll see your muscles and demand manual labor. And you won’t be able to tell her no.”

“Uh, sure I can.”

“Ha. Try it. I double dog dare ya.”

“I will. You’re so weird. But you look happy. Really happy.”

Jefferson leaned back in the chair and thought about it for a moment. “I am, Trent. I really am.”

They heard a knock at the front door, and Jefferson groaned. “No. No way. Not going to do this.”

The door opened. Trent’s eyes widened.

“Jefferson Lee? Where are you?”

Jefferson whimpered. “In the kitchen.”

Clover came sweeping in and drew to a quick stop at the sight of Trent sitting at the table. “Oh, you have company. I wondered who was parked out front.”

“This is my roommate, Trent.”

“Your
roommate
?” She placed a strong emphasis on the word.

“Yes, Clover. My roommate and only my roommate. Trent, this is Clover Crofton, the most evil woman ever to grace the streets of Holly Creek. You’ve been warned.”

Clover whapped Jefferson on the back of the head before holding out her hand to Trent. “It’s so nice to meet you.”

“And you,” Trent replied as he shook her hand.

Clover’s eyes bulged at the sight of Trent’s biceps. Yep, he’d called it. Manual labor in three… two… one….

“Trent, you visiting for the Dogwood Festival?”

“Apparently so. I drove up for the weekend to surprise J.”

“J? Oh, you mean Jefferson Lee. Aren’t you sweet. If you aren’t busy—”

“Clover, no,” Jefferson warned.

“Would you be so kind as to help me move a few things over to my booth at the festival? I have a few pieces that are just too much for me to manage.”

Trent looked terrified, but Clover did that thing with her eyes, and he caved. “I’d be happy to.”

“Ha! Told you. Should have placed a bet on that one. I’d have some extra spending money.”

“Don’t make me cut you, Jefferson Lee.”

“Why do you always threaten me with sharp objects? Like I haven’t been your gofer for the past week out of the goodness of my heart. Where’s the love, Cloverberry? Where?”

“It leaves every time you call me that name. Now, you’ll both be at my place in the morning, right? Seven sharp?”

Trent whimpered. “Seven?”

“You don’t mind, do you?” She did the eye thing again.

“No, of course not.”

“I’d be so rich if I were a betting man,” Jefferson teased.

The mayor and Uncle Sherman returned before Clover could tear him a new one.

“Uncle Sherman,” she said and gave him a giant hug. “You’re getting around so well.”

“Thank you, Clover dear. Will you join us for dinner? Charles bought extra pork, just in case.”

“Oh, I shouldn’t.”

“Nonsense,” Uncle Sherman said. “You’ve been working yourself into the ground, young lady. You need a nice meal to get you through the next few hectic days.”

“Well, if you’re sure you have enough.”

“We do, and I insist. Right, Charles?”

“Of course. Everything looks amazing, Clover. Very impressive. I can’t remember a Dogwood Festival coming together this smoothly in my tenure as mayor.”

Clover practically swooned at the praise. Jefferson pretended to gag, and Trent elbowed him in the side.

“Ouch! What’d you do that for?”

“Don’t be mean to Clover,” Trent griped.

Jefferson gasped. “Et tu, Brute?”

“They do tend to squabble like children, Trent. You’ll grow accustomed to it.”

“Uncle Sherman! I protest!” Jefferson pretended outrage, but he really didn’t mind. They did squabble, mostly because it was fun.

“Uncle Sherman, while you and Charles man the grill, perhaps I could whip up some sides? Or a cobbler?” Clover asked sweetly. Damn woman and her magic cobbler. Jefferson really needed to learn to bake.

“Oh, cobbler.” Jefferson cooed, just to annoy her. “I take back all my meanness, Clover. Trent, beg her. Right now. She’ll make one if you ask.”