Sleepless Nights (The Donovans of the Delta) (22 page)

If he said anything, she vowed she would use her fist. Fortunately, he didn’t.

“You said ‘at first’ you were content to be with your husband. What about later?” he asked.

He made the transition to ordinary conversation so smoothly, she almost could have sworn nothing had happened between them.

“No subject is more boring that the tale of a failed marriage. Tell me about yourself. Where is your home?”

“North Alabama.” He quickly switched the topic back to her. “You never did get around to telling me what you do now.”

“My face is too old for modeling anymore.”

“Too old?”

“I’m twenty-nine. Nobody’s clamoring for me. I stay solvent by doing a little leg and hand modeling. And I pick up cash doing a few other crazy things. Mostly though, I live free, unencumbered by nine-to-five jobs and material possessions. That way I can go where whim takes me.”

“A Peter Pan existence. I almost envy you.”

She turned to look into his face. “You? What can offer more freedom than trucking, traveling the open roads?”

“Truckers have schedules to keep.”

Hallie accepted his answer without comment. For a while they were silent.

Beside them the lake made soft lapping sounds against the shore. An owl called from somewhere in the trees, and a shooting star fell across the sky.

“Look,” Josh said, pointing skyward. “Did you see that, Hallie?”

She tilted her head up. “Yes.”

“Make a wish.”

Josh saw her close her eyes, saw her long lashes flutter. She was beautiful, he thought. And much too tempting for any man to resist. His hand cupped her face.

Her eyes snapped open, but she didn’t pull away.

“I don’t know why they aren’t clamoring for that face,” he whispered. “It’s incredible.” His fingers caressed her skin. “So soft, so smooth.”

“I’ve always loved having my face touched.” She closed her eyes, letting the pleasure fill her. She knew she was courting danger, but she decided to let the moment be, to take what it offered and try not to analyze the situation. She’d think about it tomorrow.

Even with her eyes closed, she knew when Josh leaned closer. She felt his breath, warm against her cheek, and smelled his skin, clean and spicy

“Hallie, did any man ever tell you that you look good enough to eat?”

“No.”

“Then they’ve all been fools. Good enough to eat. . .” His tongue flicked out and circled her lips. “. . . but I’ve already had supper.” Abruptly she felt herself being put aside, stuck back on the shelf as if she were a rejected doll. She had to brace herself with her hands to keep from toppling backward.

Hallie’s eyes snapped open. Josh was getting up swiftly, towering over her. She wasn’t about to let him have the last word or the advantage. Jumping up, she stretched to her full five feet nine inches—ten counting the heels on her cowboy boots.

“It’s a darned good thing. I certainly had no intention of being dessert.”

“I’ve no doubt that you would be a delectable one, Hallie, but I’m not in the mood for sweets.”

“If you do get in the mood, take my advice and go to a candy store.”

Suddenly he reached out and caught her hands. Prying the fingers open, he lifted her palms to his lips. “I’m sorry, Hallie. I didn’t mean for the evening to end this way. It’s been too lovely to spoil. Forgive me?”

“I always had trouble staying mad at men who look like golden lions.” She smiled. “But, in the future, I think it’s best if you stay on your side of the cove and I stay on mine.”

“Agreed, Hallie. Take care.”

“May the wind be at your back, Josh.”

She watched until he was around the bend, then she kicked the tin pan she had used for a plate. It made a loud, satisfying twanging sound.

Wolfgang and Ludwig came up to investigate. Hallie cuddled their big heads. “For Pete’s sake. I’m glad he’s gone. Good riddance, I say. What more does a girl need than her two best friends. Huh, fellows?”

She began to prepare for bed.

 o0o

Josh wasn’t around the bend before he started muttering to himself.

“Where did all this nobility come from? I had her right there in my arms, ready and willing. She’s a grown woman. What harm would there have been? A brief fling is just what I need right now. But, no. I had to play Sir Galahad.”

He stomped into his camp, jerked off his boots, and climbed into his bedroll. He figured if he tried to undress, he’d rip all the buttons off his shirt.

He lay rigid, expecting sleep to claim him at any moment. He never had trouble sleeping when he was on the road. Insomnia occurred only when he was back home in Florence, coping with the business and taking care of his dad and his brother.

He tossed and turned until the moon had begun to drop out of sight. “Damned good thing I left. Women are nothing but a pack of trouble.” With that final proclamation, he fell asleep.

 o0o

Elvis and the Tropical Double Trouble, Excerpt

Peggy Webb

(Fourth Southern Cousins Mystery)

Elvis’ Opinion # 1 on the Valentines, Manicures, and Mooreville’s Royalty

Ever since I used my famous nose to crack the Memphis Mambo Murder Case, things have gone to the dogs around here. And I don’t mean to a musical genius in a basset hound suit, either. (That would be yours truly.)

To hear my human mom tell it (that would be Callie Valentine Jones, owner of the best little beauty shop this side of the Mason Dixon Line), life just couldn’t get any better. She thinks she’s happy since she said “The Last Farewell” to Jack (my human daddy) up in Memphis, but I know better. When she’s not giving New York hairdos to Mooreville’s finest and doling out the dough for her mama’s little gambling escapades – and every other kind of escapade Ruby Nell Valentine can think of – she’s sitting on the front porch swing with a faraway look in her eyes that says, “Stuck on You.”

Listen, I know she believes Jack is finally going to give her a divorce so she can have her heart’s desire with somebody who won’t spend more time in the world’s underbelly avoiding bullets than he does in the gazebo with Callie and her “Ain’t Nothin’ But a Hounddog” best friend. (I’m not even going to talk about Hoyt, that ridiculous cocker spaniel pretender to my throne, and the seven silly cats who took up residence with us when Callie rescued them and dragged them home.)

Believe me, Jack’s face said it all when Callie and the rest of our gang headed home from Memphis - “There Goes My Everything.” A man that smitten is not going to let his woman go, no matter how noble he thinks the gesture might be.

I’m trying to teach Jack and Callie to be thankful for what they’ve got – each other plus a suave, famous Rock ‘n’ Roll King who is content to live a dog’s life in order to make his humans happy. Instead, they’re intent on turning everything upside down to get what they think Callie wants. A child. Otherwise known as a short, not-too-bright little person who makes car noises all day long, smears peanut butter on my pink satin guitar-shaped pillow, pulls my mismatched ears, runs Tonka trucks up the legs of Callie’s customers, and generally has turned everything upside down here at Hair.Net.

 This particular little person is David. He was part of the package when his mom, Darlene, (Callie’s new manicurist) moved in lock, stock, and uppity Lhasa Apso.

 That would be William, who claims he’s the Dalai Lama reincarnate. He’s prancing around here, even as I speak, acting like he outranks the King. I thought he’d get the message when I howled “The Great Pretender,” but he just did his silly Lhasa flop that made Callie say, “Isn’t he the cutest little dog?”

 Cute, my slightly crooked hind leg. “Don’t Step on my Blue Suede Shoes” is what she ought to be saying. That silly fuzz ball’s motto is “Rip It Up.”

 Mine is “Suspicious Minds.” Listen, you can’t trust a dog with a bushy tail. What’s the use of a tail that can’t point rabbits? Or thump the floor like a drum? Or whack your human mom’s legs to let her know you love her?

 Wait till Callie finds out William sneaked into the beauty shop closet and chewed the toe out of her favorite Steve Madden moccasins. She loves her designer shoes.

 But even with that dumb dog chewing up everything in sight and trying to steal my spotlight and David trying to pull my tail, I’ll have to admit business has picked up around Hair.Net. Ever since Fayrene’s daughter moved back home with her entourage (which includes a cat named Mal that I’m not even going to dignify with a comment) and started dispensing Atlanta nail art, we’ve been booked to the hilt. Everybody who is anybody comes here to have Darlene paint witches and pumpkins on their toes. And while they’re at it, they end up getting a new hairdo for Halloween.

 Business is popping over at Gas, Grits and Guts, too. People have been coming from Mantachie and Saltillo and even as far off as Red Bay, Alabama, to admire Fayrene and Jarvetis’ disco ball dance trophy. They hung it over the pickled pigs’ lips then proceeded to spotlight it so it would send rainbows over the Vlasic pickles and Lay’s potato chips. My best friend, Trey (Jarvetis’ redbone hounddog), tells me that Fayrene and Jarvetis (Mooreville’s answer to royalty), are acting like lovebirds these days in spite of the fact that work is progressing on the séance room he said she’d build onto the back of their convenience store over his dead body.

And speaking of dead bodies…ever since Charlie Valentine thought Ruby Nell was going to join the body count during the Memphis Mambo Murders, he’s back to being her best friend as well as the backbone of the entire Valentine family. As a matter of fact, he’s planning to take her to the undertaker’s convention in the Yucatan.

That leaves only one Valentine unaccounted for – Lovie, Callie’s 190-pound, over-the-top, flamboyant cousin. Currently she’s in the Yucatan at Rocky’s archeological dig promoting an agenda that features the love of her life discovering her “national treasure.” She had that tattooed on her bombshell hips when we left off trying to catch a killer long enough to have a little fun up on Beale Street in Memphis. Personally, I think the “national treasure” ought to be added to the list of world wonders.

Here comes that five-year-old, pretending he’s a Peterbilt rig. I’d escape through the doggie door and mosey on down to see what’s cooking with my cute Frenchie (that would be Ann Margret) and my five handsome progeny, but somebody has to keep things straight around here. Ruby Nell will be here any minute. She called to say she wanted to get spiffied up for her trip, but you can bet she’s up to something. And I’m just the dog to find out. These mismatched radar ears miss nothing.

 
Well, bless’a my soul. The little person is carrying a cone of vanilla ice cream. That goofy Lhasa just waves his useless, ostentatious tail, but I know opportunity when it knocks.

I heft myself off my cushion, hum of a few bars of “Let Me Be Your Teddy Bear,” then mosey on over to see if the short person will let me lick ice cream off his elbows.

 o0o

About Peggy Webb

 In a career that spans 26 years, the Mississippi author has written almost 70 books. Writing as Peggy Webb, she pens romance and the popular, comedic Southern Cousins Mystery Series starring Elvis, the basset hound who thinks he’s the King of Rock ‘n’ Roll reincarnated. Writing as Anna Michaels, she pens literary fiction. She has been on the romance bestseller list numerous times and has won many awards, including a Romantic Times Pioneer Award for creating the sub-genre of romantic comedy. Several of her romances have been optioned for film.

The Tender Mercy of Roses, 2011,
written as Anna Michaels, is a Delta Magazine Top Five Pick, a Literary Guild and Doubleday Book Club Featured Alternate. Pat Conroy, author of
The Prince of Tides,
calls it “astonishing.”

Peggy is a member of Novelists, Inc., International Thriller Writers, and Romance Writers of America. She is excited about bringing her romance classics (originally published as Bantam
Loveswepts)
back to readers as E-books. The award-winning
Touched by Angels
and
A Prince for Jenny
are Kindle Top 100 bestsellers.

Follow the author on her websites:
www.peggywebb.com
and
www.annamichaels.net
and on Facebook as both Peggy Webb and Anna Michaels.

o0o

Other E-Books from Peggy Webb

Classic Romance (originally published as Loveswept)

Dark Fire

Touched by Angels (RT Reviewer’s Choice)

A Prince for Jenny,
sequel to
Touched by Angels

The Edge of Paradise

Duplicity (Rave review, RT Reviewer’s Choice)

Where Dolphins Go (RT Reviewer’s Choice,
women’s fiction, optioned for film)

Night of the Dragon
(time travel romance)

Christmas in Time
(time travel, brand now, prequel to
Only Yesterday)

Only Yesterday,
(time travel, sequel to
Christmas in Time
)

Summer Jazz

The Donovans of the Delta Series:

 Donovan’s Angel, book one

 Sleepless Nights, book two

 Hallie’s Destiny, book three (award winning book)

 Any Thursday, book four

 Higher Than Eagles, book five

E-books Coming Soon

Taming Maggie (#1 on Waldenbooks’ Romance Bestseller List)

Only His Touch

Southern Cousins Mysteries, Peggy Webb (available in print and e-books)