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Authors: Michele Summers

BOOK: Not So New in Town
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“Not exactly. I worked for a couple of small companies before getting into temp work. Temp work wasn’t all bad. It allowed me the time to consult with small businesses and boost their sales.” Lucy shook her head. Somewhere along the line, she had started chasing a paycheck, losing sight of her goals and ending up helping Anthony for almost three years achieve his ambitions…instead of her own.

At least with Julia’s pregnancy, an end was in sight. That baby couldn’t stay in her belly forever. Just enough time to reconnect with her nephew and for Lucy to mend fences with Julia.

A loud whoosh sounded as the breath escaped her lungs. Maybe because she stood on the side of the highway with Brogan, under the hood of her poor baby, as he added coolant. Efficient and sure with his movements, appearing perfect and pristine next to her tired car. Startled by the contrast, Lucy rolled a hank of hair around her finger. She recalled a time when she’d looked pristine and professional next to her shiny, new car. What had happened to that Lucy on the brink of a brilliant future?

“You need help?”

Brogan dropped the hood in place. “I’m good. That should do it, but this car needs work.”

So did Lucy. “Sorry you’ve wasted your Saturday morning. I’ll drive over to Grady’s and park it in his lot. Hopefully, he’ll return before Labor Day.”

Brogan brushed off his hands. “You have other transportation?” He carried the empty jug of coolant to his trunk.

“I’ll borrow Julia’s minivan until she’s fixed. Here’s money for the coolant.” Light feathers danced up her arm as his fingers pushed away the cash in her hand.

“You can keep your money.”

“I insist. I need to pay you…or something.” A glint sparked to life in his eye, and his crooked smile appeared.

“Or something,” he said, closing his trunk, making Lucy jump; whether from the noise or what he implied, she had no idea. “Keys.” He held out his hand.

“Huh?” She fished for her keys in the front pocket of her pink paisley shorts.

“I’ll drive your poor baby over to Grady’s. You can follow in the Jag.”

Lucy’s head jerked up. “Seriously?” Absolutely not. He’d done enough for one day. He didn’t need to sweat in her overheated car that might or might not make it into town.

Brogan plucked the keys from her fingers. “Yeah. Let me make sure she starts.”

Lucy trotted behind him, her tan ballet flats crunching in the gravel. “No. I’ll drive her. You don’t know how she operates. She can be real temperamental.”

He shot her an incredulous expression, snorting as he opened the driver’s door.

“Typical female. I think I can manage. But maybe you better follow close behind in case I need your help.” His condescending tone washed away all the pleasant thoughts she’d been having about him.

“Suit yourself. She’s tricky. Likes to sputter and conk off if you don’t treat her right. Takes a firm hand.” Lucy’s car had never acted up until yesterday, but Mr. Cocky didn’t need to know that. Tossing his keys in the air, she caught them in her palm.

Brogan laughed. “I’ve got firm hands. I think she’ll like them. Most temperamental women do.”

Gnawing her lower lip, she attempted to ignore his sexual innuendo. Slipping behind the wheel of the Jag, Lucy released a sigh of contentment, rubbing her palms over the smooth leather steering wheel. The engine purred to life with zero effort on her part, and thoughts of purring under the ministrations of Brogan’s capable hands invaded her mind.
Oh, get over yourself.
He probably had a den of purring cats. He didn’t need a lost, mewling kitty to add to his litter. Lucy secretly cheered as her loyal Honda started and then stalled for a few seconds, giving Brogan a hard time. Her poor baby was standing up for her. Lucy would take her victories wherever she could find them. But it didn’t take Brogan long to gain control and pull onto the highway heading back to town.

Brogan parked the Honda in the side lot at Grady’s, next to a mud-spattered pickup truck. Lucy parked alongside the two old-fashioned gas pumps. Grady didn’t believe in technology and had never upgraded his tanks to take credit cards.

“Need to get the rest of my things,” she said, preparing to bump the trunk with her hip.

“Wait. Let me try.” Brogan depressed the key remote once, twice, and Lucy’s Honda, being a typical, traitorous female when it came to hunky men, opened with no problem. “Told you. I’ve got the touch.”

“With cranky, overheated old women…must make you proud.”

“Yep.” He laughed, reaching for the rest of her bags and totes.

“Hillbilly Bone” played from Lucy’s cell, indicating a text. “I’m coming,” she mumbled as her fingers typed an answer.

“You crushing on Blake Shelton now?” he teased.

“Nah. Trace Adkins. I love that man’s moves.” Brogan’s interest piqued, evident by his quirked brow.

“Have you heard him in concert?”

“Not really. But I temped concessions at a big country concert in Atlanta, and he was one of the acts.” She shrugged. “We could hear snippets but couldn’t see anything.”

Brogan shook his head as he began loading his trunk with the rest of her bags.

Lucy trotted after him. “Listen, thanks for all your help. If you could drop me at home, I’ll grab the keys to Julia’s car. I need to make a barbecue run. Apparently, Julia craves anything with vinegar.”

Brogan turned after closing his trunk, brows raised in question.

“Look, I’ve learned not to ask questions. She wants a quart from Hog Wild, and she’s paying me to make it happen.” Hog Wild BBQ, with its base of vinegar and spices, made the best Eastern-style barbecue in all of North Carolina.

“Hog Wild it is then. Let’s go.” He opened the passenger door and started to slide in.

“Don’t you want to drive?”

“Nope. You’re doing fine. You look good in this car.” He stretched his left arm out to the back of her headrest.

“Cool! You don’t mind if we stop for barbecue?”

“It’s on the way. We should get some for Parker too. He’s probably devoured every meal in the fridge and has started on his arm by now.”

Lucy accelerated out of the parking lot. “Brogan Reese promoting unhealthy pork. When will the madness end?” she teased.

“Everything in moderation, baby.”

“Moderation, huh? You don’t seem to take your exercise in moderation. You look like you’re pretty fanatical.” Lucy gave him an offhanded once-over, from the top of his wavy hair to the tips of his Nike tennis shoes, making strategic stops along the way, like his rock-hard chest, narrow hips, and…

Brogan’s easy smile went from friendly to sexy as he returned the blatant perusal, giving her a taste of her own medicine. “You like what you see?” His voice held promises of hot, steamy nights under a blanket of stars, with lots of panting.

Lucy grunted. “If you’re into athletic-looking, buffed guys…which I’m not.”

Boisterous laughter filled the car. “No shit! Tony the dick did you a favor, and don’t you ever forget it, Lucy.”

It would be a long time before she’d ever forget the deviousness of Anthony and the hurt he’d dumped on her. She parked the sleek Jag at the barbecue shack. Old wooden barrels filled with wildflowers flanked the outdoor seating area at the Hog Wild BBQ. Seasoned smells of smoke and roasted pork filled the hot air. On top of the flat tin roof of the shack, a ginormous, smiling pink pig crossed his humanlike arms over the Hog Wild BBQ sign, looking pleased as punch his kin were being butchered inside.

“Speaking of pigs, Wanda came in the store the other day with Fiona and bought some organic meals.”

“She mentioned she was putting Fiona on a diet.” Lucy tapped on the closed window at the order counter. “I texted her yesterday. We’re getting together tonight.” She snapped her fingers. “That reminds me. I need to add rope to my list so I can tie Parker to his bed.”

Brogan slipped off his aviator sunglasses and folded them in the vee of his shirt. “Where are you meeting Wanda?” Wary, she gave him a sharp look. His nonchalant stance with shoulder pressed to the wood-beam column did nothing to ease her distrust.

“Hey, Lucy, it’s been a long time.” Toby Sheldon poked his head out the order window and saved Lucy from answering Mr. Nosy.

“Hey, Toby. How you doing?”

“Can’t complain. What can I get ya?”

“Quart of barbecue, coleslaw, and Brunswick stew.”

“You want hush puppies with that?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Comin’ right up.” Toby slid the window closed to the thick air.

Brogan cleared his throat and gave Lucy the censored-dietitian look.

“It’s for Parker. You can’t eat barbecue without coleslaw, Brunswick stew, or hush puppies. Everyone knows that. It’s un-Southern.” Lucy pushed her white sunglasses on top of her head. “You’ve been living up North too long.”

“You’re avoiding my question. Where’re you and Wanda going tonight?” Brogan moved, forcing her to step back until she bumped the water cooler attached to the sidewall. Instead of pulled pork, Lucy smelled mouthwatering Brogan Reese. Her ex-crush and Julia’s ex-lover. Erp. That particular thought sobered her every time.

“Why do you want to know? You filing a report or something?”

“Order’s up. Here you go, Lucy. Hey, Brogan.” Toby slid the bags of food across the counter as Brogan greeted Toby.

Lucy handed over her money. “Thanks. Keep the change.”

“Sure thing, Luce.” Toby waved the bills in his hand while Brogan grabbed her bags of food.

“Take care, Toby. See ya later.” She waggled her fingers at Toby’s gapped-tooth grin.

“Good Lord willin’ and the creek don’t rise,” Toby shot back. And didn’t that about sum it all up?

Chapter 11

Sitting inside Julia’s green minivan in Wanda Pattershaw’s driveway, Lucy tapped on the horn. It was nine o’clock Saturday night, and she almost wished she were home in bed. But she’d promised Wanda they’d get together, and she hated to cancel on her best friend. Wanda’s white clapboard cottage appeared to be freshly painted, along with the half-brick columns supporting the porch in front. Yellow-and-white-striped pillows sat on the green porch swing, and black shutters framed the windows. Lucy had always liked the old cottages and bungalows that dotted the streets of Harmony better than the two-story Georgian brick she’d grown up in. If she ever lived here again, she’d buy one of these older cottages and fix it up. Lucy gave her head a violent shake.
Gah!
Don’t even go there.

The bright-yellow front door flung open, and Wanda lurched onto the porch, yanking on a leash.

“Oh, good Lord almighty,” Lucy moaned. She jumped from the car as Wanda tugged on Fiona’s collar. “Can’t you leave Fiona home?” Sliding open the rear passenger door, Lucy lowered the seat for Fiona to crawl toward the back. Wanda handed her the soft pink blanket she carried.

“Spread it down so she can snuggle on it,” Wanda directed. Lucy reached inside and spread the fuzzy blanket. “Come on, baby. Hop on up there…good girl.” Wanda petted her snout, and Fiona snorted.

Lucy rolled her eyes. “Isn’t it bad enough you have a pink-spotted pig for a pet? Do you have to attach that stupid sunflower to her head and use that gaudy glitter collar?”

“Fiona’s depressed, and wearing her favorite collar and flower on her head always makes her happy. Now, quit your whining before I put a glitter collar on you.”

Lucy laughed. “I’ve missed you.” She gave Wanda a quick hug. “Let’s go. I’m starved, and I need a drink or fifty. It’s been a helluva day.”

“Did you get everything on Princess Prima Donna’s list done?”

“Everything except the most important item…new bras and panties.” Fiona gave another snort in the backseat. “Exactly! Even Fiona thinks it’s ridiculous. How am I supposed to buy maternity bras and panties? I have no clue where to go. You think I can buy her undies in jumbo packs at Costco?”

Wanda adjusted her sleeveless orange wrap dress that encased her voluptuous curves. Retying the bow at her waist, she gave Lucy a skeptical look. “Costco? If you’ve stooped that low, it’s no wonder Anthony Tiger preferred Shannon…she probably had better underwear.”

Lucy chuckled, ignoring the twinge of pain. “I didn’t say I buy
my
unmentionables at Costco.”

“Praise the Lord.” Wanda pushed down on the sleeve of Lucy’s white eyelet top, exposing her bra strap and half her cup.

“What the—!”

“I’m checking out the goods. Nice. Like the color. Where did you get it?” she asked, referring to Lucy’s pale-blue lacy bra. “Makes your boobs look real perky.” She pushed the sleeve back up and patted Lucy’s shoulder.

“That’s because they are perky.”

“No, they’re large, but a good bra can do wonders.”

“You should know…Miss Double-D Diva.”

Wanda cupped her own huge breasts and lifted. “They are mighty fine, aren’t they?”

“Russell always thought so.”

Russell Upton had been Wanda’s boyfriend since freshman year in college. They’d dated on and off for years, finally tying the knot in a small chapel in Vegas. Wanda wore a short lime-green chiffon cocktail dress with matching veiled pillbox hat, and Fiona wore a lime-green tulle tutu with a sparkly tiara and matching collar. Lucy had flown out to witness the marriage and partied the remainder of the night with Wanda and Fiona by the pool at the Hooters Casino Hotel, while Russell lost all his honeymoon money at the blackjack table. Things kind of went downhill from there. They remained married for about two years before Wanda threw Russell out and dumped his toolbox in the middle of the lake.

“Do not speak that fork-tongued man’s name in my presence. I could die happy never laying eyes on him again.”

“What are you talking about? I thought you were back together.” Lucy stopped at the intersection of Gardenia Avenue and Walnut Street, heading toward the outskirts of town. “You said you went out last night.”

“We are most definitely
not
back together. You know he had the nerve to ask if we could skip dinner to get to the good stuff. He had to be on a job site early this morning.”

Russell owned Upton’s Construction: No Job 2 Small. “Well, he does work hard. Give the guy credit. What did you do? Push him out the door?”

“No. We had sex, and then I pushed him out the door.”

“That’s what I thought. Good girl. You sure taught him a lesson.” The irony was not lost on Wanda.

“I, unlike some people I know, don’t let a little pride get in the way of great sex. And Lord, that man is good in bed,” she said in a dreamy voice as if picturing the twenty-one ways they’d gotten it on the night before.

“Spare me the particulars. Unless you tried a new position that I can add to my fantasy life.”

“Hmmm, fantasy life. Now that’s interesting. Because from what I hear, Brogan ‘Fantasy’ Reese is no longer only living in your head. Seems he’s been sniffing around you like Old Man Cornwaddle’s hound dog. Speaking of buff burritos, where is the hot chimichanga tonight?” she added in a bad Spanish accent.

Sniffing around? Craptastic. “I’ve only been home a day and a half! Where’d you hear that?”

“And just where do you think home is?” Wanda nudged Lucy with her elbow. “Harmony, the gossip capital of the world. Miss Sue Percy said she saw you with him early this morning on the school track. And Jo Ellen Huggins tweeted that you guys were practically doing it over a barrel at the Hog Wild. And—”

Lucy slammed on the brakes, and an indignant Fiona squealed from being jostled. “
What?
That’s a bald-faced lie. We weren’t
doing
anything except picking up barbecue.” Lucy hated being the topic of gossip. She wasn’t loco, and she
wasn’t
after Brogan Reese.

Wanda bent to adjust the big bow on her gold platform sandal. “Too bad. If I didn’t have Russell and his love muscle, I’d be all over Brogan ‘Eat My Grits’ Reese in a heartbeat.”

“Oh brother. I could do without the visuals. Look, Wanda Wonderbust, there’s nothing going on between me and Brogan. Have you forgotten that he and Julia have a history? History that keeps repeating itself, if Julia gets her way. And you know”—Lucy arched her eyebrow as she eased off the brake—“Julia always gets her way.”

“Maybe. Hard as Julia tries with her successful business and fancy designer duds, she can’t completely shed her trailer-park background. The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, my friend.”

Lucy shot an outraged glare at her best friend. “Wanda, have you been swinging from power lines again? What the hoot are you talking about?”

“Are you forgetting Babs…your evil stepmother?”

If only. “She’s kind of hard to forget.”

“Well, Babs isn’t the only Brooks woman who sleeps around. Julia may not flaunt her conquests and chase after NASCAR drivers like her mama, but it’s no secret Julia shares Babs’s proclivity.”

Lucy blinked. “
Proclivity
…you back to reading your thesaurus?”

Wanda examined her shiny, painted orange nails. “Everyone knows Julia didn’t get pregnant by some sperm bank. Quite a few boots have been found beneath her bed.”

“Are you implying Julia’s the harlot of Harmony?”

“I’m saying Julia gets plenty of action. She’s had more boyfriends than you and I have pairs of shoes. Not all of them are from Harmony.” Wanda rolled her eyes. “Around here, she acts all snooty, like getting booty is beneath her.”

Julia did have clients in the neighboring cities. Lucy only hoped she practiced discretion for Parker’s sake. How could Julia justify all the secrecy? Was she trying to protect Parker? Lucy kept her eyes on the pickup truck in front of her, thinking how her nephew was no dummy.

“Sooo, do you know who the fathers are?” Curiosity and cattiness were a deadly combination, but Lucy couldn’t help herself.

“Besides Brogan? Not exactly.”

Lucy eased off the service road and parked in front of the Rolling Pin. It was one of the few places that didn’t mind pigs as customers.

“Last night, Brogan told Parker he’d take a paternity test to prove he wasn’t his dad, so I’m thinking he’s not. And I have no clue about the baby Julia’s carrying now. She’s been very tight-lipped.”

“I bet Amanda and Marcia know. Get a few drinks in them, and they’ll spill the dirt like an overloaded dump truck.” Wanda slid the back door open and reached for Fiona. “I guarantee Julia’s dirty little secret won’t stay a secret forever. It will come out eventually.”

“I’m surprised it hasn’t already.” Lucy’s silver wedge sandals hit the packed, dried red clay. She stopped to adjust her short, ruffled blue skirt, which had twisted around her waist. Bluesy country music reached her ear from the small band that played on the far side of the open-air barn. Wanda cooed to Fiona in her baby-pig voice as they both headed for the restaurant entrance. Lucy had no business judging Julia. She only hoped Julia knew what she was doing, for Parker’s sake…and the new baby’s.

Lucy made sure the ringer to her cell was turned to high. She had left Parker at home after ordering dinner again from the Dog. She’d served Julia her spinach salad minus the boiled egg with added crumbled bacon, and snuck a double cheeseburger, fries, and large chocolate brownie to Parker, making him swear on his autographed Dan Marino football that he’d stay put tonight and get to bed no later than ten thirty. Lucy had to go on faith that his grunted response meant yes.

A guy wearing a checkered apron over black cargo pants, light-blue Crocs, and backward John Deere cap grabbed two menus and said, “Right this way, ladies. Your party is already here.”

“Huh? What’s he’s talking about?” Lucy said, trying to stop Wanda, who followed him around the old wood tables. “We don’t have a party.”

“Perfect. I see a cool pitcher of margaritas waiting.”

Wanda quickened her pace, and Lucy almost tripped over Fiona. “Doodlebugs. Move it, you fat pig.” Fiona snorted, and Lucy could’ve sworn she’d butted into her leg on purpose. Not that she blamed her. No one liked being called a fat pig…even a pig. When Lucy untangled her feet, she looked up into a pair of twinkling green eyes. Green used to be her favorite eye color, but not anymore. From this moment forward, she was scratching green off her list with a big, fat Sharpie marker. Along with crooked smiles and buffed biceps. Who needed them? She had more important things to daydream about, like the color of her next pedicure or the new season of
The Bachelor
, or when Hostess Twinkies would make a comeback. Not soft, wavy hair that made her fingers itch or strong, large hands that caused her skin to prickle.

Brogan pulled the wooden chair out next to him and reached for her elbow. She tensed at his touch, and he stilled. Their eyes met, and he waited. She felt his visual caress travel her body, even though his gaze never left her face. She didn’t understand this game he was playing, but it was time she found out. Relaxing her strained shoulders, she moved toward her seat.

“Hey, Little Lucy. Glad you could join us.” The warm caramel of his voice filled in her empty places, making her feel special. And that scared Lucy most of all.

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