The Suit
THE SUIT
Copyright 2014 Brandy Toler
All Rights Reserved
This book or parts thereof may not be reproduced in any form, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form by any means without prior written permission of the authors, except as provided by United States of America copyright law.
ISBN-13:
978-1500579128
ISBN-10:
1500579122
Also available in eBook format
Cover Design:
Kari Ayasha, Cover to Cover Designs
Editor: Eagle Eye Reads
Interior Design: Integrity Formatting
The following is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are fictitious or used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, to factual events or to businesses is coincidental and unintentional.
To Two sets of Brown and One set of Blue.
My heart swells with pride every day because I’ve been blessed with you.
Love,
Your
Mother
Earl’s
, Holly Springs’ local bar and grill, is pretty busy tonight. A few people that attended the funeral today are drinking beer and eating burgers, still wearing their dress clothes. I couldn’t wait to get out of my dress and throw on my favorite jeans and just get a moment alone.
“Oh, Edie. I’m so sorry for your loss.” Elma Hart takes my hands in hers and squeezes them as she plants a hard kiss on my cheek. I was just heading back to my table from the restroom when she caught me.
“Mom, it’s Edie…like, Edeeee,” her son, Jason, lets the last syllable of my name drag on in emphasis, correcting her for me. I give him an appreciative glance.
She nods her head and backs away. “That’s what I said,” she reto
rts as she cuts him a stern glare, and he shakes his head as he gives me an apologetic look.
“Thank you, Ms. Hart. I appreciate your kind words,” I offer, not wishing to watch them hash it out. They both give me a friendly nod and head toward the exit.
I plop down in the booth with a sigh and pick up my pint glass.
“How’re you holding up?” Nikki, my best friend asks as she bumps my shoulder with hers.
“Honestly…” I pause. A large part of me wants to completely unload on her, share my hurt, pain, and fear with someone, but I can’t. It’s not Nikki’s fault that the last thirteen years of my life has been filled with losing anyone that means anything to me. I swear my life sounds like something that came out of some steamy, tragic romance novel—except it’s missing the steamy romance part. Besides, Nikki’s been dealt her own shitty hand in life, with a mother that ran out on her and a father who seems he couldn’t care less if she existed or not. “Beer’s helping.” I smile before taking a large gulp.
“You sure?” Nikki gives me worried look.
“Don’t worry. I’m not going to become an alcoholic because I’m sad. But, I might get hammered tonight,” I warn her.
“Then we should eat first.” She smiles. “Then get hammered,” she says, as she pulls her long, blonde hair over one shoulder.
“Always the voice of reason, Miss Reese.” I nudge her with my shoulder.
“With a troublemaker like you, someone has to be,” she jests. We both giggle because if you asked anyone in this town about me, they’d tell you I was as good and wholesome as they come.
Edie James, sweet as apple pie and loving granddaughter of Bud James.
While this description is kind, I’ve always hated it a little bit. Deep down, there’s a part of me that wants to go wild, live a little. Do things that nobody thinks I will.
Two hours later, Joey Harris and Dierk Reynolds sit across from us, and have us giggling like two idiots. I don’t even know what they’re saying, I’m that drunk, but whatever it is, it’s funny.
Joey has been a longtime friend and works on my grandfather’s farm—
or
my farm now. He always looks out for me and I kind of think of him like a brother. Nikki and Dierk have this ongoing flirt-fest every time they’re around each other, but never do anything about it. Nikki, the town beauty, and by beauty I mean, she’s won all the pageants growing up; homecoming queen, prom queen—you get the picture—and has a reputation for being a bit of a tease. Dierk is smart enough not to completely fall for her antics, but that doesn’t stop him from indulging in her games. Most men couldn’t help but go crazy for her; blonde hair, blue eyes, big boobs, tiny waist…basically she’s Barbie.
“When are you going to ask me out Dierk?” she giggles before biting her lower lip. I roll my eyes at Joey, and he just smirks before
taking a sip from his beer. Joey and I have had to bear witness to this exchange between Nikki and Dierk one too many times.
“As soon as you get down on your hands and knees and ask me to, Nik,” he says before sipping his beer. Dierk is equally as good-looking as Nikki. Black hair, blue eyes like I’ve never seen, and a body you can tell he tortures daily at the gym it’s so perfect. They’d make beautiful babies together, for sure, but both of them are the types that never work for anything. If it doesn’t fall in their laps, they don’t get it, but as it goes for most wealthy, good-looking kids growing up, they seldom go without anything they want; except when it comes to each other. They love torturing each other, and neither will ever give in.
“I guess that means it’ll never happen, huh?”
“What a shame, too.” Dierk leans toward her over the table. His incredible lips—
yes, I’ve noticed them
—quirk into a slight smirk. “I think I could show you a thing or two.”
Joey snorts and Dierk cuts him a sharp look.
“Mighty confident,” I interrupt. Men always talk like they’re God’s gift to sex and women should tremble in their presence. I’m not the most experienced in the sex department, my lover tally totaling…
wait for it
…one. I can’t say sex was bad with Mick—
my ex
, but it wasn’t so good I’d beg for a repeat performance. My fantasies when it comes to men are far and vast from what’s available here in Holly Springs. Nikki says it’s because I read too many crap romance novels and it’s made me create this image of a man that doesn’t exist. Maybe that’s true, but I’d rather wait for a chance at perfection than settle for mediocre.
Dierk leans back, his gaze lingering on me. “You just haven’t been with a real man, Edie. I wouldn’t mind showing you a thing or two.” He licks his lips and scans me seductively. Dierk speaks like this to everyone, but I know deep down he’d show me exactly what he’s offering if I let him. Believe me, I’ve thought about it a time or two, but so has every other girl in town and the only difference between me and them is I haven’t acted on those thoughts.
“Jesus, Dierk,” Joey punches his arm. “Her grandfather just died. Keep it in your pants.”
“I’m sorry,” he replies and holds his hands up in mock surrender. “But if you need a shoulder to cry on, I’ve been told I can really
drive
the blues away,” he says, with a confident smile, and Joey groans.
“Dierk…” Nikki pauses, shaking her head as if she’s unsure of where to begin. There are so many things wrong with his lame attempt at sexual innuendo.
“As tempting as that sounds,” I say, sardonically, “I think I’ll pass. I’ll go get us a few more drinks,” I tell no one in particular as I slide out of the booth. Nikki doesn’t even notice I’m leaving as she texts on her phone.
I meander up to the bar and wait until Earl approaches me, his brows furrowed in sympathy. I’ve been getting that look from everybody these days. ”How’re you holding up, sug?” Standing at six feet tall, Earl is a towering man whose life is plain to see as it stretches across his face in wrinkles. He and my grandfather were good buddies, fishing partners, and I know he will miss him almost as much as me.
“Beer’s helping.” I smile and look away from him. I haven’t cried since the day Daddy Bud died, three days ago. He asked me not to mourn him. “One good cry, baby girl, then chin up,” he’d made me promise. If I stare into Earl’s worrisome eyes much longer, I might breakdown and at this moment my buzz is the only thing getting me through my pain.
“I’ll get you another pitcher,” he mumbles, and heads down the bar toward the drafts. Guess he caught my attempt to not discuss it. I slide onto a barstool and stare at myself in the mirror that lines the wall behind the liquor bottles. I’m only twenty-two, well, twenty-three in a month, but damn if I don’t feel old. Life has somehow worn me down in a way I know it shouldn’t have. Not when I’m so young.
“What are you going to do now?” I ask myself—
I think quietly
—but apparently my buzz is altering my ability to judge my own volume.
“I think the entire town is wondering that,” a smooth, deep voice answers, and I jerk my head in its direction.
The first thing I see is a perfectly angular face, cut jawline, and amazing brown eyes. But then…I see the rest of him. Dressed in a black suit that fits him exquisitely, accentuating his broad shoulders, the stranger peers down at me and heat blankets my skin as I take all of him in. Why is my heart beating so fast? I’m not sure I’ve ever reacted this way at the sight of a man before. Holly Springs isn’t Podunk, we have a variety of folks, including ones that wear suits so it’s not like I’ve never seen a guy in a suit before, but the stranger, he doesn’t just wear his suit. He owns it; like he was born to wear it; he looks like some kind of freaking suit model or something. To top it off, he’s severely attractive, clean shaven, and tall.
Shit. I’m staring. Stop staring, Edie.
“And how would you know what the town is wondering? You’re not from around here,” I ask him casually as if his extreme hotness isn’t making my skin tingle.
“I don’t have to be from around here. It’s all anyone is talking about. Poor Edie James. I hate to tell ya, most of them think you’re going to go mental.” He gives me a look of sympathy before sipping his highball.
My head rears back. Who in the hell does he think he is talking to me like that? Suddenly the haze of his hotness that I’ve been entranced by fades. Maybe it’s the alcohol or the fact my week has been crap, but I’m not in the mood for someone’s assumptions or pity, especially from a complete stranger—incredibly hot or not. With a smile as saccharine as I can muster, I ask, “I’m sorry, you are?”
“John Wilson.” He holds out his hand to shake mine, but I just glance at it before my gaze meets his again. It really is a shame I’m about to tell this guy off because he has the most gorgeous brown eyes. Eyes that look like they could bore inside of me and find out all of my deep dark secrets. Not that I have many, but if I did. “I’m sorry for your loss.” He clears his throat and frowns slightly.
“You knew my grandfather?”
He smiles faintly. “Yeah. I knew Bud. He was a good man.”
My heart squeezes with his words. Daddy Bud was the best of men. Either way, the suit doesn’t know me and shouldn’t be telling me how the town thinks I’ll go ‘crazy.’ “Well Mr. Wilson, I appreciate your concern, but my personal business is none of your business,” I say, saucily.
Oh yeah, I’m officially drunk.
“If you’ll excuse me, I have to go work on going mental.”
I slide off the barstool and he says, “I didn’t say I agreed with them.”
Spinning around, I narrow my eyes at him. “Why are you talking to me?”
“You look…
lost. I’ve been there,” he says seriously as he stares down at me. I’m not sure what his expression means, but he looks almost…understanding?
“
Lost? And what? You can show me the way, Mr. Wilson?” Why’d I say that? Because he looks like trouble. Sexy, sophisticated, make my toes curl in ecstasy sort of—trouble. I don’t need that kind of stress in my life. I’m almost positive he’s coming on to me, so my response seems appropriate. He looks like the kind of guy that loves women, gets them easily, and lets them go just as fast. When he doesn’t respond, I continue to tell him off in my belligerent state. “I’m not the type of woman that needs to be ‘shown the way,’ but I’m sure any of the other ladies in here might bite if you baited them with that line.”
God, I’m so clever.
Stupid man thinking he can just breeze into town and pick me up when I’m sad and vulnerable and charm me with his big city sexiness.
“Clearly you have it all figured out,” he responds and smirks, and I hate how sexy he looks. “It was lovely to meet you, Edie.” He takes my hand where it sits by my side and kisses it.