Still Crushing on His Best Friend’s Older Sister: Cates Brothers # 2

by Kilraine, Lee

  And that was how the Great Knot Debate part two started. Almost.

  “Wait, wait.” Delaney held a hand up to settle them down, then helped maneuver Stacie into a chair at the table. “She didn’t mean to start anything. Stacie just needs to learn, is all.”

  She wasn’t sure Stacie would ever be one of her favorite people, but she could sympathize up to a point. Delaney walked away as Stacie’s first knot lesson began.

  After Lonnie’s, she made her way over to the diner for a late breakfast. She headed for the booth in the corner, but the Simon sisters spotted her and called her over.

  “Delaney, dear. Come join us for breakfast. We were just talking about you.” Agatha Simon waved her over to their booth with an age-speckled hand.

  “Yeah, I get that a lot,” Delaney said, sliding onto the bench opposite the women. “Good morning.”

  Beatrice beamed at her. “We wanted to invite you to our book club over at the library, dear. We’re starting a new book next week and thought you would add some lively perspective to our discussions.”

  “Well, I appreciate it, but I’m not much of a—”

  “Congratulations, Delaney!” Renee carried over a supersized piece of cake on her tray. “You’re the fifty-third customer of the day and won a slice of Aunt Marie’s chocolate cake.”

  “It seems like every time I turn around people are giving me food.” She followed the slide of the cake plate with her eyes, then turned a raised brow on Renee. “Let me guess, Greer put you up to this?”

  “Goodness no! The grapevine came up with this, and my advice is don’t try to fight it. You won’t win.”

  Delaney shook her head. “Do I look dumb? No, I have a policy: never say no to cake.”

  “Good girl, because you’ll be the lucky customer of the day until you’ve put on five pounds.”

  “How in the world did I ever get through life without the grapevine?”

  “You didn’t.” Agatha stared down her nose at Delaney like she was a naughty schoolgirl. “So none of that attitude if you please.”

  “Excuse me?”

  Beatrice tried to shush Agatha, but it was like trying to stop a freight train with a pile of pillows.

  “It’s past time she knew.” Agatha sat back in her seat, her serious face looking like a poster for tough love. “The whole town looked out for you and Greer.”

  “What do you mean? Nobody helped us with anything.” Delaney rubbed a hand against her forehead. “When Mama died, Daddy was so mean to everyone people stopped offering to help out. I don’t blame them. He could be very cruel.”

  Beatrice looked at her, her gentle gaze soothing. “Dear, we didn’t stop helping you. We just had to keep quiet about it.”

  “I don’t remember anyone helping.” She shook her head in confusion.

  Renee sat down next to her in the booth, setting the coffee carafe on the table. “Remember winning those drawings down at Frock Foods?”

  “I didn’t really win the free turkey at Thanksgiving every year?” She looked over at Renee to see her shake her head.

  “The drawing for new school shoes every September?”

  “No,” Agatha chimed in.

  “Dr. Dilley didn’t offer anyone else free braces if they let him take before and after pictures?” The blood drained from her face like a wave pulling back into the sea. “He said we’d be helping him.”

  “No, just Greer.” Beatrice quickly added, “Although, after Greer got her braces off, half the other freshman girls flocked to his office too, so it did help him out. But that’s not why he did it.”

  Delaney was having a hard time taking it all in. “The great deal on my first Volkswagen?”

  Renee looked over at the sisters before turning to Delaney. “The Elks Lodge paid for Cooter James to find one and fix it up for you.”

  “I suppose you’re going to tell me Cooter didn’t have Free Tune-up Tuesdays?”

  “Goodness, what a rascal.” Beatrice tsk’ed and shook her head. “No, I believe Cooter was trying to get a date. Wasn’t he a year or two ahead of you in school?”

  “The renters for our house while Greer was at college?” With each nod of their heads, Delaney’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh God, I always thought we were two of the luckiest girls ever.”

  “In a way, you were, dear. The town felt terrible about not stepping in to protect you from your parents, but neglect and cruelty were harder to prove back then.” Beatrice reached her hand across to give Delaney’s a comforting squeeze. “After your mother died, we went about quietly trying to help without your father noticing.”

  “Greer’s college scholarship?” Delaney asked.

  “She did earn a partial, but everyone knew that wasn’t enough. So the church held a lot of bake sales. Beatrice’s rhubarb Bundt cakes were a big seller.” Agatha’s face pinched up like she’d taken a bite of a lemon. “I gained ten pounds that summer and had to put my damn girdle on to fit in my favorite Sunday dress.”

  Beatrice patted Agatha on the arm. “Language, please, sister.”

  “Does Greer know?” She didn’t even try to hold back her tears now.

  “No.”

  “Then why are you telling me?” She slumped back against the booth, her eyes and throat burning.

  “I thought it might help you to know you’re not alone.” Agatha’s gaze locked on to hers. “You haven’t been for a long time.”

  Delaney turned her head to the side, staring out the window but looking into the past. “I wouldn’t have made it without you all, and I didn’t even know. I wish someone had told me.”

  “Why? Would that have changed anything?”

  “Yes,” Delaney whispered, looking back at Agatha. “I wouldn’t have felt so alone.”

  “Well, hells bells.” Agatha reached across the table and dabbed at Delaney’s tears with her napkin. “It looks like we miscalculated a bit.”

  “Well, now you know.” Renee patted her on the back. “Your bacon cheeseburger will be right up.”

  “What?” Delaney shook her head, trying to pull her mind back to the present. “But I haven’t ordered yet.”

  Standing up, Renee topped off Agatha’s coffee cup with a glance in Delaney’s direction. “I know what all my regulars like, even if it’s weird, like a cheeseburger for breakfast.”

  “Hrmph. A cheeseburger sounds much better than my namby-pamby oatmeal.” Agatha slapped her hand on the table. “Renee, I’ll have a cheeseburger too.”

  Beatrice chortled. “Such rebels you two are.”

  A rebel? She just really loved bacon cheeseburgers for breakfast.

  “Well, I’m a rebel too. I picked the next book for the book club,” Beatrice said, looking around surreptitiously before leaning into the table to whisper, “It’s a romance. Erotica.”

  Agnes spewed her sip of coffee across the table and turned her bug-eyed gaze toward her sister. “Goodness! You should have told me. I’ve been thinking up excuses all week to get out of reading the next book. Now I don’t have to. Doesn’t that sound like fun, Delaney?”

  Discussing erotica with Beatrice and Agatha? Whoa, no. She needed an excuse. Fast. And her mind was still numb from the earlier conversation. “You know I’d love to . . . but—”

  “Wonderful. I’ll put you on the list.” Beatrice reached into the purse beside her, pulled out a notepad, and penciled Delaney’s name in.

  “Don’t forget to add Greer’s name to the list. She likes reading as much as I do.” Greer hated to read too, but no way was she going to be the only one talking erotic sex with half the elderly women of Climax.

  “That’s a wonderful idea. Now, Barbara was in here last week bragging about her new dress for the auction. She said it’s ‘ooh la la sexy.’” Beatrice leaned in toward her with a loud stage whisper. “What have you got to beat it?”

  “Arrgh. This auction is giving me a headache.” Her hands tensed around her water glass. “Look, I can’t compete with Barbara in the sexy department. I woul
dn’t be in the damn thing if I had reeled in my temper.”

  “Relax, dear.” Beatrice reached across the table and patted her hand. “Once you get through the bachelorette auction this weekend, things will settle down.”

  “You’re a very strong young woman, Delaney. You can handle this.” Agatha’s gaze bored into her, daring her to fail them.

  “Sure. I can handle this.” Holy heck, she was pretty sure she couldn’t handle this. Wait, what was it the therapist from the hospital used to say? How do you eat a fierce dragon? One small bite at a time. Okay. So she just had to . . . get through the auction, try to avoid Barbara’s plan of catty revenge, pray that her amnesia resolved itself so she could deal with the explosion and the guilt, and resist the irresistible Quinn Cates for his own sake. That’s all. Piece. Of. Cake.

  39

  The evening of the Climax Ladies Tenth Annual Bachelorette Auction finally arrived. Delaney sat backstage of the Climax High School auditorium waiting her turn, which Barbara had scheduled for last, right after Barbara. Yes, Barbara had it all set up for her big moment. The moment when the whole town saw who the real winner was between them. Other than her posse of BFFs, did she honestly think anyone cared?

  The auction was moving painfully slow to Delaney’s mind. Knowing the money raised was for a good cause made it a little less painful, but couldn’t these people hurry it up? Did they have to be having so much fun? All the joking back and forth between bidders, bachelorettes, and the MC, Sergeant Rodriguez, was just dragging out the evening. Plus, then there was the laughing and the clapping. Why couldn’t people just write a check and be done?

  Wow. Maybe she needed to get a grip. Okay, so she was still pissed Barbara had outmaneuvered her. Peeking into the audience didn’t help either. It was packed, and lately she didn’t do so well in large crowds.

  Was Quinn out in the audience? She hadn’t seen him much during the week. Which was fine because, like she kept telling herself, she wouldn’t see him in D.C. Except it wasn’t fine when she ran into the Simon sisters, who said they’d heard from Jeannette over at the sandwich shop, who had heard from Jessie working at the movie theater, which was across the street from the police station, that Quinn had been seen eating over at the diner with some “hot blonde” yesterday.

  Delaney had to tackle her jealous reactions. Sure, it sucked the air out of her world, but wasn’t this what she’d been saying all along? That Quinn deserved someone better than her. Someone who wasn’t living in the rubble of an exploded life. Someone whole, mentally and physically, whom he could have a future with. That was what she wanted for him, wasn’t it?

  Hell, she didn’t know anything anymore. So, she did exactly what she’d done in high school when life got too depressing and crazy. She ran. She and Marcus ran every day after school. This afternoon, instead of the team’s Friday fun run, Coach W. brought the cross-country team over to the track to run with them. After everyone finished oohing and ahhing over her new running blade, they had relay races in which fun took priority over speed.

  “You look calm for someone who’s about to lose everything.” Barbara’s voice dripped condescension and confidence. She was tightly packaged in a flame-red sequined mini-dress with matching four-inch spike heels. Thelma and Louise were prominently, if not precariously, on display. Her dark Priscilla Presley (the early years) hair poofed up a few inches before falling loosely down and around her shoulders.

  “Lose everything? Are you serious?” Delaney stood up, took a step toward Barbara, and looked directly into her eyes. “I hope you get what you need tonight, Barbara. I have no earthly clue what that is, but I hope you get it and you finally find peace.”

  “What I need? Oh Lord, Delaney, unlike you, I’ve always had what I needed. Tonight’s about getting what I want and what I deserve. I have imagined a moment like this ever since high school, and it couldn’t be better even if I’d planned it myself.”

  “You did plan it. Remember? This auction is your baby.”

  “I did, didn’t I? You always did underestimate how smart I was.”

  Delaney couldn’t remember a single minute of time spent wasted estimating Barbara’s IQ, until this conversation tonight. She shook her head and said, “Okay, then I hope you get what you want and what you think you deserve. Break a leg, Barbara.”

  “Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

  “Whoa, easy, Barbie. It’s just an expression of good luck.”

  “Right. Like I believe you.” Barbara pushed Delaney back as she heard her name called from the stage, the next bachelorette in the auction. “Out of my way. It’s my turn to shine.”

  Delaney watched from the wings as the trio that was Barbara, Thelma, and Louise bounced and swayed across the stage twice before striking a pose in the center spotlight. The MC cracked a joke and asked Barbara a question, and then the bidding got under way.

  “Hey, how are you holding up?” Greer put her hand on Delaney’s shoulder.

  “Oh, fine. You know, growing up in this town was a lot like walking through a minefield inside a fishbowl. Tonight, I’m getting that same vibe. Déjà vu all over again.”

  “Okay, Yogi Berra.” Greer peered through the curtains to the stage. “Barbara just might achieve her dream of being the most ‘bid-on’ woman of the evening. If you didn’t know her personality, she is an attractive combination of sexy woman and silicone.”

  “Yeah, but her body’s writing checks her personality can’t cash. Is Quinn out there? I haven’t seen much of him all week,” Delaney said as casually as she could muster.

  “Yeah, he’s here. I think I saw him standing in the back leaning against the wall. Oh, hey, they’re ‘going, going, gone-ing’ Barbara, which means you’re next.”

  “Crap. This was such a mistake. I cannot believe I let Barbara get under my skin enough to do this.” Delaney ran nervous hands down the silky black evening pants Mama Cates had said she would need. Like she was psychic or something. The pants lightly hugged her hips and thighs, ending in a soft flare over her flat evening shoes. She looked down at the silk aqua top shimmering softly. At least, with the tank sleeves, no one would see her sweating. She nervously ran her fingers through her hair, mussing the layered cut. The little dusting of aqua eye shadow and black mascara she’d applied an hour ago were surely smearing under the pressure, along with the concealer she’d applied on her bruised cheek. Note to self: Go back to not wearing makeup. It was too much of a P.I.T.A

  Greer fluffed Delaney’s hair one last time, spun her around by the shoulders, and gave her a slap on the butt like a coach with his player. “You got this.”

  It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause. It’s for a good cause. That mantra helped Delaney get herself across the stage toward the bright spotlights. Barbara must have hustled off the stage, because she was sitting in the center of the front row and grinning like a fool. Seeing her smug face was almost enough to make Delaney’s step falter. Almost. No way in hell would she hand-deliver Barbie her very own perfect ending to this evening. Taking a quick breath, she recovered and walked smoothly over to where the master of ceremonies was standing.

  Well, Sergeant Rodriguez had been standing there when she first stepped out on stage. Looking snazzy in his tuxedo and everything, but now, amongst some serious whispering going on off-stage, he’d disappeared behind the curtain, only to be replaced by a man who looked a lot like one of the Cates brothers.

  The roar of the crowd, which did not block out the high-pitched screams of all the girls and women in the audience, was a solid clue who this was. She turned her head to look at Sijan Cates, local boy turned heartthrob and movie star. He was dressed in blue jeans and a white button-down shirt. Wow, Mama and Pop Cates did not mess around when they made sons.

  Sijan took a quick bow, setting the females off screaming again. He reached out, took Delaney’s hand, and brought it to his lips for a kiss. He winked at her and squeezed her hand. “I was free tonight and, since I’m not in prison, th
ought I’d lend a hand.”

  “Oh, you heard that did you? You know, we could raise a lot more money if we auction off a date with you instead of me,” Delaney suggested.

  “Isn’t going to happen, sweetheart. This is your show. Let’s see how it plays out.” Sijan waved to his fans.

  “I don’t find that very helpful, but fine. Do you mind quieting down your fan club so we can wrap this up, Mr. Movie Star?” She blinked her lashes up at him in exaggeration, her hands clasped next to her cheek.

  Sijan laughed. “I think I’m going to like you.”

  “You have no idea how little that means to me in this moment. Now, get your sexy movie-star ass in gear, please.” She watched as Sijan gave a thumbs-up to someone in the audience. She followed his gaze up to the back wall. Through the lights, she could just make out Quinn, shaking his head at Sijan. What the heck did that mean?

  “Thank you for the warm welcome. But, y’all know I’m just a hometown boy. Nothing to scream about, right?” Sijan asked the audience, which was their cue to start screaming again.

  “Oh, nice. Don’t you think you’re milking this now?” Delaney tried to keep a smile on her face while a new round of cheers took on a life of their own.

  “Okay, okay. But the expression on your face was priceless.” He grinned but moved forward on the stage. “Thank you. Thank you. Now, for our final round of bidding in the Climax Ladies Tenth Annual Bachelorette Auction, I present Delaney Lyons. Go ahead and strut your stuff, Delaney. Delaney’s favorite color is persimmon. Her favorite album is the National Pan Flute Orchestra of Equatorial Guinea’s ‘Mating Calls of the Wild.’ Her idea of a fun date includes the board game Twister, an encyclopedia, and a pound of bacon.”

  Delaney didn’t “strut her stuff.” She walked to stand next to Sijan with her hands crossed over her chest and stared at him. He got the message.

  “Oh, okay. That’s enough about Delaney. Let’s start the bidding at twenty-five dollars. And, we have twenty-five in the front row. How about fifty? Thank you, sir. How about a hundred . . .”