Good Girls Do (3 page)
“Luke didn’t even come back for his own father’s funeral a month ago.” Edith shook her head in sad disbelief. “His father’s only child. To not pay your last respects . . . I just can’t understand that way of thinking. How could anyone be that cruel?”
“What about his mom?” Julia asked.
“Oh, she passed away when he was eight or so. Very sad. She died of some sort of heart condition complicated by pneumonia. And so young. She was only in her late thirties. Apparently, she’d had the condition and never knew it until it was too late. Tommy was devastated. She was the love of his life, and he never remarried.”
“What about Luke?” Julia asked.
“He was a handful even back then. I remember the time he knocked out the lights of the Hinkler Funeral Home sign so it read Fun Home. Shot them out with a BB gun.”
“Why do you think he’s come back?” This time the question was voiced by Pam.
Edith shrugged. “It must have something to do with Maguire’s Pub, I should think. But enough about Luke. Let’s talk about something happier. How has your evening been so far, Julia? Have lots of people stopped by the library booth?”
“A fair number, yes.”
“I meant to tell you earlier that you look so nice in your costume.”
Rumors about Edith’s vision not being very good must be true. “Thanks. Yours is lovely, too.”
The teacher beamed and carefully rearranged the sleeve of her colonial period dress. “I made it myself, following a pattern that dates back to 1771.”
“I saw lots of people at your Historical Society booth.”
Edith nodded. “Because we were offering hot apple cider. That always draws people in.”
“I volunteered to help out at the bake sale table, and they were almost sold out.” Pam glanced at her watch. “Is that the time already? I’m supposed to be judging the pumpkin carving contest in three minutes.”
“And I’d best get back to our booth as well,” Edith said.
A moment later, Julia was alone with the vivid memory of the town’s bad boy and the image of his lips touching hers, his warm fingers brushing against her breast. One thing was sure, Luke Maguire made a hell of a first impression.
Chapter Two
The
devil must be mighty cold tonight, because Luke Maguire had always sworn that hell would freeze over before he’d ever step foot in Serenity Falls again. Yet here he was.
devil must be mighty cold tonight, because Luke Maguire had always sworn that hell would freeze over before he’d ever step foot in Serenity Falls again. Yet here he was.
There were those in this uptight armpit of a town who’d likened him to a devil. He’d certainly done all he could as a rebellious teenager to earn his “bad boy” reputation. After a while, the stories got a life of their own, and got increasingly exaggerated with each telling.
Luke had never bothered denying any of them. What was the point? He didn’t care what people in this town thought of him.
His dad was the one all wrapped up in that. The one who kept up appearances of being a caring father while behind closed doors he’d take off his belt and show Luke the real meaning of obedience.
When Luke had gotten big enough to best his old man in a fight, the beatings had stopped. He’d been maybe fourteen by then. After that, his father’s anger and disapproval had merely taken another form. Closed-fisted punches were replaced with verbal grenades launched to create the most damage.
And all the while, the customers at Maguire’s Pub, his dad’s pride and joy, had sympathized with Tommy Maguire for having to put up with such a hellion son.
So why had his old man left him the pub when he died? Why make him come back here by adding the stipulation that Luke had to run the pub for six months before selling?
Luke would have loved nothing more than to tell the crusty old attorney what he could do with the offer. But he couldn’t afford to do that. Not now. He needed the money.
The reasons why didn’t matter.
The bottom line was that he
did
need it. He wasn’t proud of that fact. There were too damn many things in his life lately that he wasn’t proud of.
did
need it. He wasn’t proud of that fact. There were too damn many things in his life lately that he wasn’t proud of.
He was far from perfect. Unlike Serenity Falls.
Luke’s gaze wandered to the kids standing in a neat little line at the cotton candy machine. Even the rug rats had been trained to fall into place. Conforming was the rule around here, not rocking the boat.
If he was going to be stuck in this godforsaken place, the least he could do was have a little fun while he was here. Shake things up. He was good at that.
Yeah, the narrow-minded residents of Serenity Falls were in for a few surprises.
One pleasant surprise since his arrival had been the sexy librarian. Not that he’d ever thought he’d link those two words together in this lifetime. Maybe he just had a thing for women in Bo Peep costumes.
She was kind of cute with her shoulder-length blond hair. Her eyes were green with a bit of hazel going on. Her name was Julia. He already knew she had great breasts.
But she’d aggravated him with her immediate defense of Serenity Falls. Just like the town, she had a controlled way about her that made him instantly want to shake her Bo Peep ruffles.
Maybe being stuck here wouldn’t be as bad as he’d thought. Julia Bo Peep might just provide him with some much-needed distraction.
Not that he was looking for anything serious. Hell, no. He wasn’t the settle-down type. Especially not in a place like this.
To Luke’s jaded eyes, it appeared that nothing had changed. The sign over the Serenity Cafe still bragged they had the “Best Pies Around.” The clock on the village hall tower was still five minutes fast, just as it had been ever since lightning hit it during a freak storm the day Pearl Harbor was attacked.
Time didn’t stop here. Instead, it crawled by in agonizingly slow increments, like a form of water torture. Tick, tick, tick. Drip, drip, drip. A relentless monotony that could wear down the most solid of defenses.
“So the rumors are true. You are back in town.”
Luke turned to find RJ Brandt III standing there, looking all self-righteous in his leather loafers and wool tweed sports jacket. Luke had disliked the guy in high school, and nothing about RJ’s attitude now changed his opinion.
“You have a problem with that?” Luke countered.
“I had a problem with you not even bothering to show up at your own father’s funeral.”
“I’ll bet you were there, right?”
RJ nodded. “Absolutely.”
Right. No big surprise there. Luke’s dad had always thought more of RJ than he had of Luke anyway. RJ, the high school class president and star football quarterback, was the kind of son Tommy wished he’d had.
“So why are you back now?” RJ demanded.
“To aggravate you.”
RJ’s expression reflected his disgust. “You never did take anything seriously.”
Luke had worked real hard to make people think that. Apparently, he’d done a damn good job of it. Still was.
Fine by him. That was better than ever admitting what was really going on in his head.
Luke decided he’d had his fill of people. Needing some space, he headed for a relatively deserted corner of the square. Only when he got closer did he see the guy going through the garbage container placed there for this event.
Luke didn’t recognize him. He had long, braided gray hair for one thing. That alone made him stand out in this podunk town.
“This location is mine,” the guy said. “You have to find another one.”
“Hey, it’s all yours. Knock yourself out.”
Luke watched the guy remove aluminum cans and drop them into a black plastic garbage bag he held in his other hand.
“So you’re into recycling, huh?” Luke had no idea why he felt the urge to speak. He wasn’t normally the kind to make small talk.
The guy just grunted in reply.
Luke recognized the sound. He’d made it plenty of times himself. It meant,
Go away, you’re a pain in the butt.
Go away, you’re a pain in the butt.
There was something about the guy Luke could relate to. A misfit. How rare to find one here. He doubted the guy’s disheveled clothing of a flannel shirt and threadbare jeans were a Halloween costume.
“Come here often?” Luke asked.
Another grunt.
“Me, neither.” Sighing, Luke turned away. He could use a drink. The Fun Fair didn’t sell alcohol. But Maguire’s Pub did.
So why didn’t he just stroll on over there and meet up with good ol’ Jack Daniel? What was stopping him? Fear?
No way. Luke had faced more than his share of life-and-death situations. No way he’d blink an eye at something as stupid as ghosts from his past.
He’d go later. When he was damn ready.
Coward!
The internal insult was actually delivered in his dad’s voice. How crazy was that? And how like the old man to try to haunt him even after his death.
Luke’s momentary insanity was interrupted by the strident sound of a kid’s voice. “Yo, are you gonna tell my dad about the fish thing?”
Luke frowned before remembering this was the twerp Julia had caught red-handed by the library pond. “Who’s your dad?”
“The mayor.”
“Walt Whitman is your dad?”
“That’s right. Whitmans have been in local politics for generations.” The wanna-be juvenile delinquent suddenly sounded like he was forty.
Luke nodded. “I know. It sucks.”
The kid, what had Julia called him? Billy? Yeah, that was it. Billy stared at him in surprise. But Luke saw the acknowledgment there. Following in a dad’s too-large shoes wasn’t a job for wimps.
“Most people don’t think it sucks,” Billy retorted.
Luke shrugged. “I’m not most people, kid.”
“I heard you’re a bad seed.”
“I’ve been called worse.”
“Maybe I’m a bad seed, too.” Billy delivered the challenge with a swagger that Luke recognized all to well from his own childhood days so long ago.
“Maybe you are.” If he were Dr. Phil, he’d ask how the kid felt about that. But he was no psychologist. And the kid’s thoughts were none of his business.
That didn’t stop Billy from continuing the conversation. “So what did you do that was so bad?”
“Too many things to list.”
“You own that Harley by the library?”
Luke nodded.
“Sweet.”
“Yeah, I think so.”
“So what’s it like to ride?”
“Sweet.”
“Is it true you didn’t go to your dad’s funeral?”
“Yeah, it’s true.”
“How come?”
Luke shrugged. “It’s complicated.”
“Adults always say that when they don’t want to tell the truth.”
“Hey, watch who you’re calling an adult.”
“Well, aren’t you one?”
“Not a responsible one.”
“Why not?”
Luke shifted uncomfortably. “What are you, the Spanish Inquisition?”
“Whatever.”
“Don’t tell me you’ve never seen that comedy bit on
Monty Python
?” Luke had caught one of the episodes of the vintage British comedy on some cable station and had been hooked.
Monty Python
?” Luke had caught one of the episodes of the vintage British comedy on some cable station and had been hooked.
“Never heard of them.”
“Your education is sadly lacking, kid. You got a video store around here?”
Billy pointed down the street with a negligent jab of his thumb.
“Wait here.”
Of course the kid didn’t do that. Instead, he nonchalantly followed Luke inside the store.
Luke could tell by the guilty way the two older women behind the counter moved apart that they had been talking about him. The tell-tale phrase “bad seed hell-raiser” was another giveaway.
He recognized the one on the right as Mabel Bamas because she had the same bubble-gum pink hair she’d had when she’d gossiped over the cash register at the 7-Eleven when he was a teenager.
“What are you doing with the mayor’s son?” Mabel demanded as if he were a criminal or something.
“Helping him get abducted by aliens.” Luke delivered the mocking comment with a straight face even as he strolled over to the comedy section and quickly grabbed what he wanted. “It’ll be in the
National Enquirer
in a day or two. You could call the story in now if you want. Get a jump on the other papers.”
National Enquirer
in a day or two. You could call the story in now if you want. Get a jump on the other papers.”
Mabel looked at him in confusion. “The
Serenity News
office is closed now.”
Serenity News
office is closed now.”
“Too bad.” Luke put a
Monty Python
DVD on the counter.
Monty Python
DVD on the counter.
“You want to rent that?”
“Affirmative.”
“I’ll need to see a credit card.”
Luke fished one out of his wallet.
“This expired a month ago,” Mabel seemed to take pleasure in informing him.
He took it back and handed over another one.
“Are you okay, Billy?” Mabel eyed the kid with concern. “Where’s your dad?”
“At the festival.”
“He know you’re here with him?” Mabel asked.
“He’s not really with me,” Luke inserted.
“But you said—”
“That I was helping aliens abduct him. And you believed that?”
“No, of course not.”
“Good. You have a nice night.”
“You, too,” she said automatically. “I mean . . .”
“I know what you mean,” Luke said.
“Wow, they really
don’t
like you here,” Billy noted once they were outside.
don’t
like you here,” Billy noted once they were outside.
“Affirmative.”
The look Billy gave him indicated he was impressed but trying not to show it.
“Can I trust you to take that DVD back on time?” Luke asked Billy.
“Affirmative.”
Hell, the kid was already sounding like a Mini-Me from one of those Austin Powers movies. Time to move on.
To Maguire’s Pub? Why not?
“See you around, kid.”
Billy nodded, apparently not at all upset at Luke’s abrupt departure. Which was a good thing about guys, even rug rats like this one. They didn’t get all huffy about stuff.
Not like females.
Thinking of females reminded him of Julia with the keychain down her breasts. Maybe he should go back and offer to retrieve it for her?
There had certainly been some major sexual chemistry going on there. She was a bodacious blonde in a Bo Peep costume. What more could a guy ask for?
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