“Just once a year?” she asked.
“Well, there is the thing at Christmas. Not Christmas Eve or Christmas Day. I couldn’t do that to Roxie and Bodine. It’s usually the first part of the month.”
“What is it?”
“A party over at Murray State College for the faculty and those who . . .” He stopped and stared out the window.
“And who?”
He took a deep breath. “I donate about ten scholarships a year to Murray State College anonymously. Nanna and Poppa left me well fixed, and I just want to help kids who don’t have the means. I’m telling you my secrets, Dee.”
Roxie has diamonds and who knows what else worth thousands of dollars in a hidden drawer. Jack has secrets so big they’re scary. I was a rich wife once. I don’t want to ride that horse again. Life sure has a way of twisting back around and biting me on the fanny.
“I think that’s wonderful that you help people with their educations.”
“But you don’t like the man you are seeing because he’s got money and you associate that with betrayal, right?”
“You know me too well.”
“Then next week, I’ll sell my stock in the company and give the money to the cancer foundation.”
“You’d do that?”
“I told you I can live on what the store makes and what my grandparents left me. I can support ten or twelve kids on that, but if you want more than that, you’ll have to do a shift at the store for me.”
“Jack, you are terrible. I don’t associate you with betrayal. You are my best friend, and don’t you dare sell your stock. You’re doing so much good with what you have. Think of all the students who’ll go out in the world and be productive citizens.”
“Who’ll do more than sell bread and milk to the campers on their way to Buckhorn?”
“Don’t ever change, Jack. I love you just the way you are.” She hugged him.
He hugged back, inhaling the sweet scent of coconut shampoo and some kind of floral perfume that sent his senses reeling. When she pulled back, he tilted her face up to look into those mesmerizing aqua-colored eyes. When his lips met hers, the earth spun out of the universe and sent them flying toward heaven.
“Jack,” she said hoarsely.
“You said you love me. Doesn’t that warrant a kiss?” he whispered.
Warm breath filled her ear and tickled its way down the sensitive skin on the side of her neck. A knot filled her stomach and for a minute she wondered if there was some way a woman could ride two horses at one time.
“A kiss on the cheek, not one that turns my knees to jelly.”
He chuckled. He might not have to be patient forever after all.
“Was that funny?” She puffed up, more out of frustration with her own feelings than anger at him.
“Little bit,” he said.
“Why?”
“Dee, I like you a lot. We’re friends. I missed you like the devil when you left. You were the one who didn’t care if I was a nerd in high school. You were always there for me . . .”
“. . . and you for me. I wasn’t the most popular girl in the Sulphur High School, if you will remember,” she butted in.
“Don’t fight your heart,” he said simply.
“I have to, Jack. It lied to me and I don’t trust it anymore.”
Chapter Ten
The hotel suite had a sitting room with a bedroom off each side. Dee’s room was furnished with a dark mahogany king-sized bed, matching side tables, and a bench at the end covered in the same snow-white satin as the comforter. Six fluffy pillows were stacked against the headboard. Windows and sliding doors out onto a balcony overlooking Dallas was off to her right. A doorway to the left led into a monstrous-sized bathroom with a Jacuzzi tub, separate shower, six-foot vanity with enough lights to illuminate a small town, and a walk-in closet. Her dress for the evening and two casual outfits looked lost in that much space.
She kicked off her shoes and threw herself back on the bed, laced her hands behind her head, and stared at the ceiling. Jack’s question concerning what she wanted out of life haunted her thoughts, but not for long. A soft knock on the door brought her back to the moment. Jack stuck his head inside and whispered her name.
“Dee? You asleep?”
“No, I’m not,” she whispered back.
He opened the door all the way. “Good. I ordered room service. I’m starving and it’s a while before the banquet. Hope you still like your cheeseburgers with no onions and lots of mayonnaise.”
She sat up and crossed her legs, Indian-style. “Yes, I do. Did you order tater tots?”
“Of course, and two double chocolate malts with whipped cream on top. They had strawberry swirl cheesecake, so I ordered a chunk of it too.”
“My dress will never fit,” she moaned.
“I don’t think you’ll have a problem with that. You’ve been able to eat as much as a football player since you were in your teens and you never have gained a pound. Here it is.” He went to answer the knock on the door.
“Room service for Jack Brewer.” The waiter pushed a small table into the room, unloaded its contents onto the table for two located on one end of the sitting room, collected a hefty tip from Jack, and disappeared.
Dee lifted the dome covering a white china plate and inhaled the aroma of hamburger and hot cheese, fried potatoes, and a dill pickle on the side. “Wow! That was fast. I’m starving. Sit down. Let’s eat.”
Jack set the second dome aside and picked up his cheeseburger. “Very different than what the chef is fixing for tonight. Not bad. Maybe not quite as good as Sonic in Sulphur, but not bad.”
She nodded and kept eating. “So what’s on the menu for tonight?”
“Steaks. Stuffed potatoes. Salads. The works. Then there will be a buffet of finger foods and a band and dancing after that.”
“How late does the band play?”
“Until the last dog is dead or until three A.M., whichever comes first.”
“You got good comfortable shoes?”
“What’s that got to do with it?”
She giggled. Carefree. Happy.
He wanted to kiss her.
“I plan on dancing every one of those dances and getting all your money’s worth out of the band.”
“I see. Well, if my shoes start to pinch, I can always take them off and dance in my socks. What do you want to do to while away the hours until dinner time? Shop? See a museum? Name your poison. Now that you are fed and won’t become a raving maniac, you get to choose.”
“Me a raving maniac? If memory serves me right, Nanna always said to never let a Brewer get hungry or they might do murder. And you have the audacity to say I’m mean when I’m hungry? That would be the pot calling the kettle black.”
“Did I ever tell you the story of why we came to live at the Buckhorn Corner?”
She pushed back from the table and curled up on the sofa. “No, you didn’t. I figured it was because Nanna liked to fish and Poppa wanted something to do.”
“That’s what they let everyone think. It was really because Nanna didn’t come home one night from the creek where they lived up north. Poppa didn’t know how to cook or to open a can of soup so he got mean, went to the bar, and whipped every man in there. They had to run the next day or go to jail.” He didn’t crack so much as a hint of a smile.
“Jack! I believed you were really going to tell me a story. I trusted you.” She threw a throw pillow from the sofa at him.
He ducked. It hit the silver dome and sent it skittering across the floor. So she trusted him. That was a start, anyway.
“I don’t want to do one thing. I’ve seen museums. I don’t need to shop. I want to soak up every dime this suite cost. What’s on the pay-per-view? If there’s nothing good, I’ll read a romance book I brought along with me.”
“Okay. You can read the steamy scenes out loud to me.”
“You are incorrigible. For your information, this is a sweet romance. That means no
steam, just a little mist. It’s by an author I discovered last week. The librarian said she reads her books and they are wonderful. The title of this one is Love Handles and the author is Holly Jacobs.”
“Love handles what?”
“Love handles everything.”
“Oh, yeah. Even trust?”
“I’m not going to fight with you. That would be wasting too much money. We can fight in the middle of a green pasture, but not in a place like this. So that conversation is over. Hmmm.” She polished off the last tater tot and picked up the television pamphlet from the end table. “Aha, pay-per-view has a good movie that’s going to start in about five minutes. Let’s watch it.”
“Chick flick?”
“No. I mean yes, but no. I don’t want the chick flick after all. There’s a Golden Girls marathon on channel six. It started this morning and will go on for twelve hours.”
“That’s as bad as a chick flick.” He picked up the remote and pushed the buttons to bring up the Golden Girls.
She propped her head on the overstuffed arm of the sofa and put her feet in his lap. “Are you looking for an argument? If you are, you go find a bellboy or a cleaning lady and take her outside in the middle of the parking lot and get after it. Because you’re not getting one from me as long as we’re in Dallas. Oh, look, Ma has a boyfriend. Isn’t he cute? He looks like your Poppa.”
“No, he does not,” Jack argued.
“Then he doesn’t.” She giggled when the elderly gentleman kissed Ma on the cheek before he left.
“Roxie reminds me of Blanche,” he said.
“Yep, in some ways, but she’s more like Shirley MacLaine. I didn’t realize it, but last week I watched that movie called Carolina and the grandmother in it was Roxie all over again. Then when we watched Rumor Has It, I remember thinking that Roxie should have gone into the movies instead of the bed and breakfast business. But yes, she’s like Blanche for attitude. She and Blanche could be sisters but don’t tell Blanche that. She’d think Roxie should be her mother.”
He sighed. He really wasn’t going to get a rise out of her. She laughed at the one-liners from Blanche, Dorothy, Rose, and Ma, and he promptly fell asleep.
Jack was completely dressed in his black tux, except for the jacket that he’d slung over his shoulder, when he opened the door from his bedroom into the sitting room. Dee turned when she heard the noise of a closing door, and his mouth went dry. Framed in the open balcony doors with the sun behind her, providing shimmering highlights in her hair and silhouetting a near-perfect figure, she cocked her head off to one side. He’d never seen her look so feminine, so desirable, in his life.
She crossed the room and touched his arm. “Well, don’t you just look like man in GQ.”
“Thank you. And you are very beautiful. I forgot my Taser gun to keep the men at arm’s length away from you.”
“Oh, they’ll just be eyeballing Roxie’s necklace and trying to figure out a way to steal it.”
He slipped on the jacket and offered her his arm. “Keep thinking that, Dee. Just keep right on thinking that. Shall we go knock them all dead?”
She looped her arm into his and avoided looking up into his face. “Sure. Then we’ll hide out at Buckhorn Corner and they’ll never find us.”
Keep it light. Friendly and light. Chase down your racing heart and put some chains on it. This would never work, and you know it. So tease Jack and keep his friendship, but don’t let it go any further than that.
The dining room went silent as a tomb when they appeared in the doorway. Women’s eyes looked disappointed; men’s raked up and down, from Dee’s hair to her toes, scarcely stopping to admire the sparkling diamonds around her neck.
“Are they breathing still or did they all die?” she mumbled out the corner of her mouth.
“They’re stunned speechless at your beauty.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Well, why didn’t you tell me that before now?”
“Hello, Jack.” A man was suddenly at his side, leaving no doubt from his wandering eyes that his interest was in Dee, not Jack.
“Hello, Dillon. This is Delylah Hooper. Delylah, this is Dillon Watterson, one of the other stockholders and game inventors in the company.”
Dillon took her hand in his and raised the fingertips to his lips. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. And no sign of a wedding ring? Does that mean . . .”
“It means she’s with me this evening.” Jack slipped his arm around Dee’s shoulders and led her into the room.
A low buzz began to hover around the shoulders of the men and women, everyone wondering who Jack had brought to the reception. For five years they’d all been coming to this party, and he’d arrived alone every time.
“So did you find out who she is?” one of the men whispered to Dillon.
“She’s a gold digger. See that fake necklace and the look in her eye? Her name is Delylah Hooper. Is that a real name or what? She’s a beauty, isn’t she, but she’s as fake as a two-dollar bill. We’ll have to save Jack from himself, I’m afraid. He’s so innocent he doesn’t even know when a woman is out to fleece him.” Dillon stared at her.
“What is that man’s problem?” Dee asked Jack. “He’s the rudest person I’ve ever met and honey, I’ve been around some really sly critters.”
“Oh, don’t mind Dillon. He’s just jealous. Oh, hello, Marshall. How are you this evening? I’d like you to meet Delylah Hooper. This is Marshall Smith, one of the engineers for the company.” Jack shook hands with a middle-aged, white-haired man who’d appeared beside him.
“A pleasure, Miss Hooper. Come and meet my wife. I’m sure you’d rather talk girl talk than listen to us, and I’d like a moment with Jack. Candace, honey, this is Delylah Hooper. She’s with Jack. Introduce her to the wives while we talk shop for a while.” Marshall touched his wife’s arm.
A tall woman with brown hair styled in a chin-length pageboy and hazel eyes steered her toward a group introduced her to several women standing in a circle. “This is Marylee, Cindy, Darla, and Eva. We are the engineers’ wives. That circle over there would be the board of directors’ wives, and those ladies over there are investors’ wives.”
“So nice to meet you all. Marylee. Cindy. Darla and Eva.” She said all their names aloud and hoped she would remember them. “Which wife belongs to Dillon?”
“Dillon is not married. He and Jack are not husband material. Who’d want to be married to a computer geek who’d rather design games than take his wife out to dinner?” Marylee said.
“Maybe someone who loved the computer geek?” Dee said shortly before she thought and then wished she could take the words back.
“So are things serious between you and Jack?” Marylee asked.
“We are very good friends,” Dee said.
“I bet you are,” Eva said. “Lots of women would probably like to be his very good friend.”
The conversation strayed in a hurry to what the women were going to do with the rest of the weekend. Dee caught Jack’s eye one time, and he winked.
Half an hour later, people began to find their seats around tables for four. Marshall and Candace were seated with Dee and Jack. Talk went to the weather, how unbearably hot the summer had been, the swimming pool Marshall was putting in for their grandchildren, and the new housing development they were looking at near McKinney. Candace excused herself, went to the ladies’ room, and returned within a few minutes.
“So, what do you do for a living?” Candace looked right at Dee.
“Oh, I don’t do anything right now. I help Jack sometimes at the store and keep Roxie, that’s my grandmother, company,” Dee answered.
Sarcasm dripped from Candace’s lips like honey from a beehive. “Really? No children. No job. Must be nice. I would have figured you for a model or maybe a high-powered lawyer.”
“What do you do?” Dee had tamed professional shrews. Candace barely fit into the amateur category.
“I got my doct
orate degree in journalism, worked as a newspaper editor for twenty years while I raised my two sons, and now I teach here in Dallas. I’ve never had the luxury of doing nothing, but then I’d go stark raving mad with boredom if I didn’t contribute to society. Do you ever plan to do an honest day’s work?”
“Oh, I think I do an honest day’s work pretty often. No one complains too loudly, do they, Jack?” Dee wasn’t going to let Candace intimidate her but wondered why the woman had suddenly turned so cold. Dee hadn’t eaten with the wrong fork or picked her nose during dinner. She’d been careful not to sop up the gravy with a biscuit or eat her salad with her fingers.
Jack felt the tension but couldn’t imagine what had turned Candace into a first-rate witch. Of all the women in the group, she had always been the mother hen. Surely she wasn’t upset because he’d brought Dee without saying anything to her. “Dee works hard at what she does,” he said tersely.
“I’m sure she does,” Candace said.
“What bug bit you in the women’s room?” Jack asked her bluntly.
She shook her finger under his nose. “You know exactly what I’m talking about, young man.”
“Candace, what in the hell are you talking about?” Jack drew his eyes down in a serious frown.
“I’d like some kind of explanation too.” Marshall’s face was scarlet, his white hair looking even paler against the blush.
“I’m not talking to either of you,” Candace declared and stormed off to the ladies’ room. Immediately, Darla, Eva, Cindy, and Marylee left their tables and joined her for the second time that evening.
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