Not So New in Town (12 page)

He sounded serious. Maybe it had something to do with his heated conversation with Dottie Duncan. Or maybe he wanted Lucy’s help to get back together with Julia.
Please
be
option
number
one.
“Um, sure.” She shifted in her seat, tucking her skirt under her leg.

Brogan flashed a naughty grin. “What’s this about us being lovers?”

The look of shock on Lucy’s face, and the way she recoiled from his question, gave Brogan great enjoyment.

“Oooo! So you heard me?”

“The whole restaurant heard you,” he said in a calm voice, fiddling with the AC vents.

“Well, you heard incorrectly. I didn’t say anything about us being l-lovers.” The interior of the car shook as Lucy wiggled around, trying to get comfortable. “I said we were
not…
you know…that.” The vague gesture of her hand matched the vagueness of her comment.

Brogan’s lips twitched, trying to hide his smile. “Would
that
be so bad…if we were? You make it sound like the possibility is worse than contracting the Ebola virus.”

“So, you heard correctly.” Her tone was accusing. “Hopefully, everyone at the Rolling Pin realized the same thing. The very idea is not only preposterous, but downright icky.”

Okay, now he was pissed. He’d been teasing Lucy because she was fun to tease, and well, he liked her…a lot. But the fact that she thought sex with him was icky was bullshit.

“Are you implying that sex in general is icky or only sex with me is icky?” The outside lights from the Rolling Pin slashed across Lucy’s face, and she appeared startled by the question.

“Uh…er, I’m not saying with you”—she used air quotes around
you
—“meaning you. You know, like
you
.”

He scowled. “I get the picture.”

“What I mean is. Hmm, how do I put this?” She rolled her fingers over her plump lower lip.

“I’ve got all night.” He crossed his arms over his chest and relaxed against his seat.

“I mean, sex with you would be icky because of Julia.”

He quirked a brow. What did Julia have to do with this?

“You know…Julia?”

“I know Julia,” he said, his patience wearing thin.

“Then you know…” Lucy started to twirl a lock of hair, and he still waited. “…sex would be gross because you slept with my stepsister. Isn’t that like incest or something?”

This time it was Brogan’s turn to be shocked. “What? Incest! Damn, Lucy, you’re fucking nuts.”

“I’m nuts? You’re the one who dated Julia for two years. That’s two years of your life you’ll never get back. Think about that.” Lucy leaned forward until they almost bumped noses.

“That’s right. I dated Julia.
Dated.
I didn’t have sex with Julia…
ever
.”

“Aha! See. You even admit it. You”—she reared back, and her wide gray eyes met his—“you didn’t have sex with her? Ever?”

Satisfaction curled inside him. It was about time she knew the truth. “Nope. Julia and I
never
had sex. We came close a few times, but we never went all the way, and if she’s telling you differently…she’s a liar.”

“Wow.” Her body slumped down into the seat. “That blows my mind.”

Brogan wished she’d blow something else besides her mind, but he instantly squashed the thought.

“That means Parker really isn’t your kid, or this baby either,” she stated as if wrestling with the concept.

“That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you and everyone else in town. How did I get this scumbag reputation? I don’t remember treating anyone in town like shit.” Did he? He stared at Lucy as she bent her short leg on the seat, looking sweet and vulnerable at the same time. His voice hoarse, he asked, “Did I treat you badly, Little Lucy?”

She answered in a quiet voice. “No. You never treated me badly. You always went out of your way to be nice to me. Always tried to make me feel better. I think that’s why I had…” She trailed off.

Relief washed over him. He was happy that memories of him were good ones for her. A sigh floated from her soft pink lips. The scent of citrus swirled around his head as she swayed forward. He wanted to taste her mouth. Kissing Lucy was still a really bad idea, but at that moment, he didn’t give a shit.

Suddenly bells rang in his ear, and Lucy stopped. “Dammit.” He pulled back, digging for the phone in his front pocket. Lucy pressed shaky fingers to her lips as he checked his message. “Sorry. I need to respond to this. It’s one of my New York investors.” He chuckled. “They aren’t kidding when they say that city never sleeps. This guy’s still working late in his office on a Saturday night.”

As he typed a response about the NYC opening of BetterBites, reality slapped him into realizing that sticking to his business plan and getting Lucy on board was his top priority. Her marketing skills could be crucial to his bottom line. He hit Send and listened as the email whooshed into cyberspace. He tossed his cell in the phone cubby below the sound system. Checking his rearview mirror, he started backing out of the red clay lot. Lucy had straightened in her seat. Gone was the hungry look directed at him, replaced by the mature business mask she’d perfected. He preferred the other. Maybe another time.

“Listen, I really need to talk to you about something…important. Maybe we could set a meeting at BetterBites?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Still not wearing the naughty maid outfit.”

God. If only. “No. What I need won’t require the maid outfit, but if you choose to wear one, I won’t object.”

She gave a censorious clearing of her throat.

“It’s about a job. Working for me.”

“No.”

Okay. Brogan wasn’t expecting rejection so quickly. “No? You haven’t heard my offer. This is not some temp job, and I’m not Tony using you for your hustling skills. This is a legitimate offer to work for BetterBites in marketing.” His eyes focused on the narrow road, but his attention zeroed in on his obstinate passenger, sitting with her arms crossed, her face marred with a stubborn expression. A real offer with a decent salary was about to be laid on the table, and she’d rejected him without even knowing the details.

He stopped at the red light on Gardenia Avenue, and flicked his left indicator to turn on Walnut Street. “Will you at least hear me out?”

She checked her cell phone and frowned. “Sure. Give it your best shot.”

Not exactly brimming with enthusiasm
, he thought as he accelerated into the turn. Okay, now or never. “You’d be working on marketing and PR for this location. We need help getting the word out and expanding our customer base. You’d be in the store, of course, but not stocking shelves—although sometimes we all have to pitch in. But we’re really in need of your creative marketing skills.”

“I thought you did all that.”

“No. I have been. But the New York location is where my focus should be now. I oversee the big picture, and Javier takes care of billing and accounting.”

“You’re the CEO, and Javier’s the CFO?”

“Yeah. We’re structured a little differently, but that’s the idea.”

“You won’t be hanging around? You need to be in New York soon?”

Brogan got the distinct feeling that would be a plus in his favor. And he didn’t like it. “I move around, checking on all our locations. Is that a problem?”

“Is this a permanent position?”

“It can be. There’s plenty of room to grow. Depending on how well you do with this store…you could take a look at our other locations.” He eased the car around a white Suburban parked on the side of the road.

“I have a responsibility to help Julia. And after she’s had the baby, I plan to move back to Atlanta.”

“And do what? Take on more lousy temp jobs for Tony the Tiger?” Anger sliced through him, thinking of Lucy being hung up on that asshole. She deserved better. Brogan was prepared to offer her…
what
? Besides a job, he had no claims on her.

“I have plans. Big plans. I’m not working for anyone else…
ever
.” Her tone was resentful and combative.

“Okay, okay. I get that. But maybe while you’re here for the next two months, you can help us out and earn some money. I could sure use your expertise.”

“What about Julia? She’s counting on me to take care of her and Parker.”

At the intersection of Walnut and Chestnut, he waited as a group of high school girls crossed the street, talking and texting on their phones.

“You can still do that. Parker will be at football practice starting Monday, and you can check in on Julia throughout the day. It’s not like you’ll be commuting an hour to and from work. It’s a five-minute car ride.”

“Hmmm, what’s the pay?”

“Thirty bucks an hour.”

Lucy paused and then said, “I’ll think about it.”

Christ. Time was the one thing he didn’t have. He needed Lucy on board, and he needed her last month. “How long?”

She shrugged. “A few days.”

Brogan swallowed his frustration as he turned into Lucy’s driveway and stopped the car. Tomorrow was Sunday. He’d give her two full days. “I’d like an answer by Tuesday morning, no later.”

“Okay. Well, um, thanks for the ride…again.” She chuckled. “You’ve been here so many times in the last two days, your car’s probably programmed.”

He smiled. “Yep. And don’t forget…tomorrow morning at six.”

“Craptastic.” The back of her head thunked against the headrest. “Please tell me his football practices don’t start that early in the morning, or I might have to drown myself,” she groaned.

Brogan hopped out to open her door. “Nah. They probably won’t start before seven, unless the guys are sloppy and undisciplined, and then there’s no telling.” She swung her silver sandals around and stepped out, shooting him a glare. He caught her citrus scent as she bent to straighten the ruffled blue skirt that had ridden up her thighs, exposing nice smooth skin. Lifting her head slowly, she met his gaze. Heat and desire in her gray eyes mirrored his own before she quickly lowered her lashes.

“I better get inside…have to check on Parker, and—”

“Sure.” His feet were rooted to the driveway. After a long, drawn-out pause, he stepped back, creating space between his white button-down shirt and her gold necklace with the pearl drop nestled near her cleavage. Brogan ripped his gaze away from the swell of her heaving breasts and closed the car door. Taking a moment, he squeezed his eyes shut, pulling air into his deprived lungs. Then he turned and ushered her to the house. At the front door, Lucy rested her hand on the doorknob.

He cleared his throat. “Any special requests for tomorrow’s treat?”

Large gold hoop earrings danced as she shook her head no. “Surprise me. Thanks again, Brogan. See you tomorrow.”

“Yeah, sure. No problem.” He rocked back on his heels, watching her disappear inside the dimly lit house. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he headed back to his car, his leather loafers echoing against the cement walkway. “Keep moving and don’t look back,” he muttered to himself. “Business and pleasure don’t mix.”

He gripped the cool car door handle, and despite all the warring in his head, looked up. Lucy’s silhouette was outlined behind the sheers covering the front window. His hand dropped and formed a tight fist. The sheers fluttered, and the front door light flicked off, casting the house in darkness.

With shaking muscles, Brogan didn’t think. He sprinted up the walk and jumped the three front steps. As he raised his hand, the front door flew open, and Lucy stumbled into his chest, slamming the door closed behind her. His arm locked around her waist, and he pushed her against the solid wood door. Her heated gaze focused on his face as he lowered his mouth, trying to take it slow. But the instant his lips touched hers…he wanted it all. He wanted to consume her until they became one. Fire raged through his veins from the scent of her skin, the feel of her curves, and the texture of her lips. He was a goner.

His tongue swept inside her warm, wet mouth, and the kiss turned serious and devouring. The instant her tongue touched his, a shudder ran down his spine. He pressed her against the door, needing to feel the length of her against his body. Her hands moved to his shoulders and gripped his muscles beneath his shirt. She smelled like warm woman and great sex. She brushed her fingers at the top of his collar and spread them through his hair. A moan escaped her throat, twisting his gut. Brogan spanned his palm over her full breast as he groaned into her greedy mouth. The need rushing through him burned him alive. And he welcomed it. For the first time in a very long time, he allowed the lust to spread its liquid fire. He rocked against her, tilting her head for better access. His thumb brushed her neck and connected with her racing pulse. Their mouths opened and closed as if they couldn’t stop feeding each other hungry kisses.

Suddenly he froze. Arms and legs rigid. His head shot up, pulling air into his deprived lungs. “Shit!”

Lucy blinked, her fiery gray eyes in confusion. “What—Omigod!” She pushed at his chest.

Brogan turned, pulling Lucy in front to cover the hard-on pressing against his fly. He blocked his face with his other arm against the glare of the red-and-blue flashing lights.

From the police cruiser idling in the driveway.

The kiss she’d shared with Brogan muddled Lucy’s first thought: Was she being arrested for a public display of affection? Wait. That was ridiculous. No law sat on the books stating you couldn’t kiss someone by your front door. All right, well, kiss may be putting it too mildly. More like consumed. Devoured. Overwhelmed.

Lucy shook her head and watched in complete horror as Officer Andy Taylor (yes, just like Mayberry…she swore she couldn’t have made this up) opened the back door to the cruiser. Parker slunk out with his head down and his arms wrapped around his maroon Harmony High T-shirt. Her knees must’ve buckled, because Brogan squeezed her upper arms in a tight grip, holding her upright.

“Parker!” she wheezed. “What…where…how…?”

“Brogan…Lucy.” Officer Taylor tipped his hat. The passenger door opened as someone else exited the cruiser. He was standing in the dark shadows, and Lucy couldn’t make out his features.

“Andy…Vance. What brings you guys out?” Brogan asked as calmly as if they were discussing the next cucumber crop instead of why Parker, her sweet, adorable, no-good, rotten nephew stood looking defiant and defeated at the same time.

Vance Kerner moved around the car in an easy lope, his hands shoved in the front pockets of his worn jeans. His long, dark hair brushed his shoulders, and it didn’t look like his face had met a razor in days. “What’s up, Brogan? Hey there, Lucy…glad you’re back in town,” he said in a lazy Southern drawl that contrasted with his hard dark eyes and his sometimes scary rock star/outlaw appearance.

Lucy’s heart rammed against her chest. “Really, people? Pleasantries? What is going on? Officer Taylor, why is Parker with you?” Brogan gave her a gentle shove to the side and a reassuring squeeze with his warm hands.

“Lucy, is Julia home? I need to speak with her about Parker,” Andy said in a polite but authoritative tone.

Lucy touched her suddenly dry lips with her tongue that only moments ago had been tangling with Brogan’s. “She’s asleep.” She hoped and prayed. “I’m taking care of Parker while she’s on bed rest. You can speak with me.”

Andy shot Brogan an uncomfortable look, and Vance moved behind Parker and gave him a nudge. “Maybe you should explain to your aunt what you were doing out so late,” Vance said in a rough, raspy drawl.

“Parker, what’s it going to be? Either you do it or I will.” Andy pierced Parker with a hard lawman stare.

A sudden arctic blast froze Lucy’s veins, and she started to shake. She wrapped her arms around her middle.
Please, Lord, don’t let it be anything we can’t reverse. Please.

Parker shuffled his scuffed-up Nikes at the loose rocks on the driveway, his head still hanging low. “Um…I snuck out and met up with my friends,” he mumbled.

“Were you drinking? Is he drunk?” Her gaze darted from Andy to Vance, trying to keep the panic at bay.

“No! We weren’t drinking. I wasn’t, anyway.”

“He passed the Breathalyzer test. He’s clean,” Andy added.

“Spill it, Parker. I don’t have all night,” Vance said in a low, rough voice.

“We, um, well, we were just messing around, and I guess we weren’t thinking. ’Cause we got caught egging cars.”

Lucy’s shoulders slumped in relief or disbelief…she had no idea which. “Okay…” she said slowly, “…like in the school parking lot? Or what?”

“Not exactly.”

Not
music to her ears.

Andy braced a black boot on the bottom step. “He and his friends were out on State Road 54, throwing eggs at moving cars. And that’s considered a felony in the state of North Carolina. Vance here was one of the victims. He called me, and we caught up with the boys hiding out in the Haydens’ cornfield.”

Brogan’s hand rubbed her stiff, cold back. He murmured something close to her ear, but she couldn’t hear because of the military aircraft screaming through her head.
Felony.

“What happens to Parker?” Brogan asked.

“Vance is not going to press charges, and I haven’t gotten any calls from the other motorists. I’m willing to let Parker off this time with a severe warning. But the next time”—Andy Taylor gave Parker a don’t-screw-with-me stare designed to frightened the most hardened criminals—“I will throw the book at him.”

“Um, yeah, that sounds bad,” Lucy said, finding her voice.

“Do you understand? A felony is a serious crime. You don’t want that on your record,” Andy said to Parker.

Parker gave a shaky nod. “Yes, sir,” he mumbled.

“I’m not pressing charges,” Vance said, “but I want Parker and the other boys to come out to the farm and wash my truck before that egg gets baked on and ruins the finish.”

Parker shoved his hands into the front of his board shorts, still avoiding everyone’s faces. Like the little weenie that he was becoming. Anger, fear, and love bombarded her all at the same time. She wanted to shake him until his head fell off, and then she wanted to hug and kiss him and tell him everything would be okay. She did neither of those things.

“That sounds fair,” Brogan said. “What about the other boys?”

“I’ve spoken with their parents and told them the exact same thing. They were lucky…so far. If anyone else comes forward and wants to press charges”—Andy shrugged his thick shoulders—“then we may have a bigger problem.”

Lucy clutched her throat and gave another shout up to the Lord, praying that no one else pressed charges. “Parker, what do you have to say? To Mr. Kerner and Officer Taylor?” she asked in what she hoped was a stern, adult tone.

“Um, I’m real sorry…Mr. Kerner. I’ll be by tomorrow to wash your car.” Vance nodded and clapped Parker on the shoulder.

“Parker is working out with me tomorrow at six in the morning. I’ll bring him by your place after that,” Brogan added.

“Parker?” Lucy prodded, shifting her gaze from him to Andy.

“I won’t do it again, Officer Taylor. I promise.”

“Make sure you keep that promise. I’ve got my eyes on you and your friends.” Andy tipped his hat to her and rounded the hood to his idling cruiser.

“See you tomorrow, Brogan. Lucy, maybe next time we’ll meet under better circumstances.” Vance gave a half smile as he opened the passenger door and folded his tall form inside.

Petrified, Lucy watched the taillights of the cruiser exit her driveway.
Holy Mason jar full of moonshine!
What in all of the land of marbles was she going to tell Julia?

“Lucy, do you want me to stay?” Brogan asked in a soothing voice. Stay? God no. She wanted him to take her away. Away from her responsibilities and her troubled nephew. Away from poor Julia about to give birth to another child who would grow up to be a teenager and do horrible teenage things! With sagging shoulders, she released a ragged breath.

“No, but thanks. I appreciate your offer.” She pointed to Parker, still shuffling his feet and not making eye contact. “In the house, Parker,
now
. And don’t wake up your mom.” Parker skipped up the steps, brushing past them both.

After the front door closed, Lucy said, “We’re sticking with that six a.m. thing, huh?”

“Sorry. But Parker could use the discipline.”

Lucy could just about forgive him, because his fingers toyed with her hoop earring, short-circuiting her brain and turning it into mushy applesauce. Almost. “Krispy Kreme doughnuts. No substitute.”

“Try to get some sleep.” Brogan brushed her lips with a soft kiss and then moved down the steps toward his car. Lucy struggled to wrap her head around what had just transpired. “Hillbilly Bone” rang from her phone, jolting her back to reality.
Blippity blast
.

Julia.

* * *

Lucy found Parker in the kitchen, sitting at the table with a glass of ice water. “Your mom’s awake. You going in there with me?”

Parker smeared the condensation on the glass. “I guess so,” he said with all the conviction of a crooked politician.

“Oh, okay. Let me bring Julia a fresh glass of water.” Could she be any more pathetic? She dreaded Julia’s wrath as much as Parker did. Lucy balled her fist to keep from twirling a strand of hair. She and Parker performed dead-men-walking down the hallway as if heading to the electric chair. The glass in Parker’s hand shook, and a drop of water splattered on Lucy’s shoe.

“Head up. Shoulders back. Take it like a man.” Lucy squeezed Parker’s arm.

“What in the hell is going on around here?” Lucy had pushed the door open to a glaring, furious Julia, sitting straight up in bed with her bedside lamp on.

“Hey, Julia. Sorry we woke you. Would you like some water?” Lucy spoke in the same voice she would’ve used while approaching a mad mama mountain lion protecting her cubs. Not that she’d ever do that in a gazillion years, but she thought that might be how she’d sound.

“Parker, why aren’t you in bed? And why did I get a call from Miss Sue Percy, saying she saw you in the back of Andy Taylor’s police car? Please tell me that woman has lost her ability to spread gossip along with her eyesight,” Julia demanded.

“Mom, it’s okay. Nothing bad happened,” Parker had the nerve to say. “Don’t get all cray-cray. Aunt Lucy can explain.” Parker sent Lucy a begging look. The weasel.

She narrowed her eyes at him, trying for one of Julia’s bitchy glare-downs. When his lips tipped up in a sneaky smile, she knew her glare had failed.

“Will someone please tell me what is going on? I’m losing my patience. Lucy?”

“Sure. What Parker is trying to say is he snuck out tonight and met some friends, and in their infinite wisdom, they decided to hurl raw eggs at moving cars on State Road 54.”

Julia’s shocked gaze flicked to Parker. “Parker, is this true?” she asked in a surprisingly even tone.

“Yeah, sorta,” the weasel had the nerve to say.

“Sorta? Parker, would you mind manning up here. Or do I tell your mom exactly what Officer Taylor will do to you the next time you even spit in the wrong direction?”

“Parker, finish. The truth.”

Parker shuffled over to the bed and eased down at the foot. He placed his big hand over the pink blanket covering Julia’s calves. “It’s not that bad, Mama-bear,” he said, using a sweet voice that would one day win over many young girls’ hearts. “Connor, Duncan, and I were just hanging out, and we got bored. And then Duncan thought it would be fun to throw eggs at cars. I dunno. It was dumb.” He shrugged his skinny shoulders. “But we didn’t hurt anyone, and we only hit, like, two cars.”

“Oh, Parker.” Julia sighed. “What’s going on with you? This is not like you.”

Uh, not really. Time for a wake-up call. Lucy blurted, “Julia, this boy of yours is gonna turn into a juvie if you…we don’t do something about it.”

“Lucy, don’t be so melodramatic. Parker’s just a teenage boy. They do all sorts of stupid stuff. Are you forgetting how you were as a teenager?” A rush of guilt flooded Lucy at Julia’s know-it-all stare. “I don’t recall any of us turning into juvies. He’s learned his lesson and won’t do it again, will you, Parker?”

That did it. “Give me a break. I can’t believe what I’m hearing. I don’t recall any of us committing felonies. Parker, you were wrong and could’ve gotten in a whole heap of trouble. A felony is nothing to joke about. Not to mention, you could’ve hurt someone. What if that had been old man Cornwaddle driving down the road, and he swerved into a telephone pole because you scared the crap out of him? And Vance Kerner wasn’t too pleased either. You’re lucky he’s not pressing charges.” Parker had the sense to look embarrassed and maybe a little ashamed. “And what about how you lied to me? You swore on your signed Dan Marino football that you would go straight to bed and not sneak—” Lucy stopped at his warning glare. “Er, you promised you would go straight to bed,” she finished. She’d forgotten Julia didn’t know about the escapade the night before. She wondered why she felt compelled to keep the little sneaker’s secret.

“Lucy’s right. I’m very disappointed.” Julia reached over and grabbed his hand. “I want you to promise me that you’ll behave. You know it’s not healthy for me or the baby to get upset.” Parker’s sullen, bored mask slipped into place. “Do you understand?” He paused and then gave a half nod. “Now, go on up to bed. I need to speak with Lucy.”

Parker rose, hesitated before bending down and kissing his mom on the cheek. “Love you, Mama,” he whispered.

Julia ruffled his dark wavy hair. “Love you too, my sweet pickle.”

As soon as Parker closed the bedroom door, Julia slumped against her pillows and squeezed her eyes closed. “Dammit.” Tears leaked from the corners and trickled down her porcelain face.

“Julia, you okay? Can I get you anything?” Fear and anxiety gripped Lucy. This vulnerable, exposed side frightened her more than Julia’s bitchy, scary side.

“Have a seat. We need to talk.”

Lucy willed her stiff legs to move, and she backed up to the prissy pink chair. “Sure. Go ahead. Talk.”

Julia’s bright-blue eyes appeared dull and hard. “We need to talk about Parker’s dad.”

Thunk
went Lucy’s butt as she hit the seat of the chair. “You mean Parker’s dad…like in real dad?”

“Yeah. His real dad.” Julia lowered her head and talked to the fringe on the blanket between her fingers. “I’ve never told anyone the truth. By the time I realized I was pregnant and had decided to keep the baby, we’d already broken up.”

Lucy gulped. “He…the father doesn’t know? You never told him about Parker?”

Julia eased back until her head rested against the lace pillows, and she stared up at the light-blue ceiling with painted clouds and cherubs, an offensive imitation of the ceiling in the Sistine Chapel. Poor Michelangelo had to be weeping huge tears. “Not exactly. He didn’t know at first, and I kept it from him because I was angry and hurt and afraid. But when Parker was three years old, I finally got up the nerve to tell him.”

Lucy didn’t like the crooked path this story was taking. She didn’t feel a happy-smiling-laughing-everyone-cheering ending coming up. “What happened?”

“The usual. He denied it. Called me a whore, along with a few other choice names, and told me never to speak to him again.” Lucy winced. “He wanted nothing to do with me or Parker. Can’t say I blamed him. He was married by then and had his own family to worry about. He was not about to take on me or Parker, and he certainly didn’t want me blabbing to his wife about his illegitimate son.”