He’d told me this morning that he was considering going back the day after tomorrow. Apparently, Morri had posted photos of his night at the drag show and Stephan has been calling him continuously. Not quite sure that Morri’s going to give him another chance, but at this point, he is going to soak up every bit of Stephan’s begging. If I had my way, he would just ignore Stephan, but Morri should do what will make him feel best.
“I’ll come back and visit you all the time,” Morri promises me.
“You’re just saying that,” I tell him. “You can admit you hate it down here.”
“It is a little backward,” Mori admits sheepishly. “You should have seen the people in the drag club last night. It’s like they never even heard of a red sequin before.”
“Yes, well, there is absolutely a lag time between New York drag fashion and Bible Belt drag fashion,” I say dryly.
“Truer words, girl. But all that matters is that Floyd and I had a blast last night.”
I laugh and squeeze his arm harder. Only my best friend Morri could get a grizzled redneck who owns the hardware store to go to a drag show with him.
We head down the sidewalk past Sweet Cakes, Trixie’s law firm, and finally to Chesty’s where I can hear the subtle strains of the Steve Miller band coming through the door. Morri and I disconnect and he holds the door open for me, which I think is some proof that a few southern manners have been rubbing off on him. It’s been the hardest thing for me to get use to here, but it’s also been one of the things I have loved. In the South, a woman doesn’t dare go through a door if there’s a man nearby to open it first.
The interior of Chesty’s is dimly lit mostly by what sunlight can come through the dark tinted windows and glass door, the lights over the pool tables, and the myriad of neon signs all over the walls. It takes a moment for my eyes to adjust, but the first person I can see is Lowe. He’s standing up at the bar, casually resting his elbow on the countertop. Next to Lowe, Larkin’s sitting on a barstool adjacent to Pap, and they are discussing something with their heads bent toward each other.
A quick look around shows me that while the town square may be slow on a Sunday afternoon, Chesty’s does a brisk business. There are games going on at all three pool tables and pretty much every stool at the bar is occupied, as well as the half-dozen tables around the perimeter of the place.
I walk in between two of the pool tables with Morri following behind, my eyes locked on Lowe. It’s not my imagination, and it’s quite a heady feeling, that the burning heat in his look is just for me. While things didn’t get overly hot and heavy between us last night, I can tell that a slight change in circumstances and it could have been an entirely different ending to the evening. To say I am wildly attracted to this man is an understatement. It’s not going to be long before we move this to the next level.
Pap’s head rises as we get closer, and he gives a nod our way so that Larkin turns to look at us. She gives me a bright smile, but before I can even say a word, Lowe’s got his hand to the back of my neck and pulling me in for a quick but possessive kiss. I’m so shocked I can do nothing but blink repetitively at him when he releases me.
While we made out like young teenagers last night, he hadn’t kissed me when we got back to the barn. I just assumed that perhaps PDA was frowned upon.
Guess I assumed wrong.
I sheepishly smile at Larkin, and she grins at me more brightly, and then to Pap, who gives me a wink.
I make introductions first, turning to pull Morri closer by his arm. “Pap, this is my best friend, Morri. And Morri… this is Lowe’s grandfather, Pap.”
Morri reaches a hand out, and Pap grabs it for a hearty shake. “Welcome to Chesty’s. Heard a lot about you.”
“Oh, you mean you’ve heard all about how your grandson and I love to torture each other with pranks?” Morri asks with his necktitude going full steam.
Pap gives sort of a half chuckle/half snort, his eyes sparkling when he tells Morri, “I personally think the mayonnaise in the doughnuts was the best.”
“It sure was, wasn’t it?” Morri says as he slides in between Lowe and Larkin, leaning a little around Larkin to continue talking to Pap. This effectively pushes Lowe away from the bar, which is fine by me because it pushes him closer my way. “I tried to talk Floyd into teaching me how to cut Lowe’s brake line, but I was told that that might be a little too much.”
This time, Pap throws his head back and laughs hysterically at the thought. I just roll my eyes and figure Morri is in good company so I can give some attention to the hot man who’s standing right beside me.
“Long day?” I ask Lowe.
He was working outdoors for most of the day, and it was brutally hot. Because he spends a lot of days outdoors, his skin is naturally a dark golden brown, but I can see some red across his nose and cheeks indicating he probably had an overdose of sun today.
“I’m a little tired,” he admits but then adds on to say, “But the Lantern Festival is always worth the hard work. Especially this year.”
“Why this year?”
“Well, this year was especially fun because I got to watch the lanterns in a boat on the lake with the prettiest, sweetest girl I’ve ever known.”
I’m utterly charmed by his words because they are sincere even though he has a hint of amusement in his tone. I can’t help but tease, “Am I really the first girl you had on that lake during the Lantern Festival? You told me it was the best seat in the house, so you clearly have some experience out there.”
I get a hearty laugh in return from Lowe. “Trust me, you’re the first girl. But Pap used to take us kids out on a boat when we were younger, and we thought that was pretty darn cool. Like we were special or something.”
“Well, I think your entire family is pretty special,” I tell him truthfully. Last night was one of the most fun, relaxing evenings I’ve had since I can even remember. Well, the kissing wasn’t relaxing, but I sure was liking the way it felt.
“What do you and Morri want to drink?” Lowe asks.
“Does Pap serve wine?” I inquire.
“He serves red or white,” Lowe says.
“What types of red?”
Lowe laughs at me. “Only one kind of those. Red.”
Now it’s me who laughs because I can see Pap only carrying one kind of red and one kind of white. This doesn’t seem like the type of bar that would serve wine at all.
“I’ll actually take whatever beer you’re having, but I know Morri will want wine so get him the red.”
Lowe turns away from me for a moment to order the drinks. When he turns back to me, he explains, “Chesty’s is where you go to get beer and liquor. If you want wine, you go to Miller’s gas station. He and Pap have sort of an informal agreement not to infringe on each other’s territory. But Pap will carry a basic selection of wine and Jason will carry a basic selection of beer. If you want something out of the ordinary, you have to go to their respective businesses.”
“Makes sense to me.”
The bartender quickly has our drinks, and Lowe passes them out. Morri is still a little miffed at Lowe for the red-dye prank, but he mutters a “thank you”.
“You up for a game of pool?” Lowe asks me. “We can play teams. You and Morri against me and Larkin?”
I give Lowe an admonishing look and slap the back of my hand against his stomach. “You and Larkin probably grew up in this bar playing pool. Morri and I are from Manhattan. The only thing we know how to do in a bar is drink a fifteen-dollar martini. I don’t think that seems fair.”
“Even better,” Lowe says as he leans in and whispers in my ear. “You and me against Morri and Larkin. That way, I can get up close to you to teach you how to shoot.”
Oh, wow. That sounds nice, especially that sexy little rumble to his voice.
I turn toward Morri, who is in a deep discussion with Pap and Larkin, and call out, “Morri… get your booty over here. We’re going to play some pool.”
Morri
looks at me and says, “I have no clue how to play pool.”
Larkin jumps off her stool and takes Morri by the elbow. “No worries. We’ll teach you.”
It takes about fifteen minutes for one of the pool tables to open after Lowe had claimed interest in it by placing two quarters on the edge. After explaining the rules to Morri and me, he and Larkin took their time to teach us the mechanics and the angles of how to shoot. Because Morri and I were equally dreadful, it was a close game, but Lowe and I managed to win by one shot.
We start our second game, and I’m surprised that it gets a little easier to play. This might have something to do with the fact that Lowe reminds me to take my time with my shots as well as to imagine a line coming from the back of the pocket I’m aiming at and extending directly through the ball, which helped my aim. But the best piece of advice he gave me, and where I really started to make my shots, was when he told me not to look at the cue ball but to focus on the ball I’m aiming for. That made a complete world of difference to me. In the second game, he and I sort of kicked Larkin and Morri’s butt. In fairness to Larkin though, Morri wasn’t really all that into playing. He did it to be part of the crowd, but he’s never been into sports or games of any sort.
“It true you wear women’s clothing?” a very twangy, male voice asks from behind our group.
Every muscle in my body immediately tenses as I turn to face the bar. Two men are standing there holding mugs of beer with huge smirks on their face. They’re nondescript other than they look like ordinary joe’s. They’re both staring straight at Morri.
Morri may not visit the deep South very often, but it’s not the first time someone has made fun of him and what they do not understand. He holds himself almost regally as he replies in a calm voice, “I wear gowns and other fancy female clothing when I’m on stage.”
Both men snicker. The one guy asks, “You wear frilly panties underneath?”
It’s clear these guys are drunk. It’s also clear they are intent on humiliating Morri. While I know Morri can hold his own, I don’t want him to have to. He’s here in my new town where I intend to live at least part of the year, and I’m not about to have these jackasses run my friend off.
I open my mouth even as I take a menacing step toward the two brutes, but I snap it shut because just as quickly, Lowe beats me to them. He’s suddenly in their faces and backing them up into the barstools they’re standing in front of.
“I’m telling you right now, Gill,” Lowe says in a deep, rumbling voice filled with the promise of retribution. “You say one more inappropriate word to my friend… and I’m not even going to bother to drag you out of here to beat your ass. I’m going to do it right here in front of everybody.”
My mouth drops open and my eyes slide over to Morri, who is looking at Lowe with a funny expression on his face.
My gaze swings back though when the guy named Gill narrows his eyes at Lowe and taunts, “He your boyfriend or something?”
The other guy thinks this is hilarious and snickers raunchily.
I expected that would have been a fighting challenge, but Lowe merely gets a lazy smile on his face and leans in toward Gil. “Why? You jealous?”
“I ain’t no damn fag—”
That’s as much as he gets out of his mouth, because Lowe’s fist is slamming into it. The guy’s head snaps backward, before popping forward where Lowe hits him again, harder this time. Gill’s head snaps back again and his knees start to wobble.
Gill’s friend manages to catch him around the waist to help hold him up as blood starts to trickle out of his mouth from what looks like a split lip.
I’m terrified these two guys are now going to go after Lowe, but Pap is suddenly standing there. He merely points to the door while talking to the men in a measured, no-nonsense voice. “You two get the hell out of here and don’t ever come back unless you decide to learn some manners. This bar is open to all, and everyone is welcome to drink here in peace.”
I really want to go hug Pap right now, but he’s not finished.
Looking around the bar, he raises his voice and calls out, “If anyone else here has a problem with my friend Morri, finish your beer up and get the hell out. Don’t bother coming back either.”
No one moves and no one says a word, the only sound coming from Tom Petty playing on the jukebox.
Gill and his friend slink out of the bar. The minute the door is closed, everybody resumes talking again.
Not one other person leaves.
Pap looks at Morri a long moment, and Morri gives him a nod of thanks as well as a smile to indicate he’s okay. Pap nods back and heads to his stool as cool as a cucumber.
Then Morri turns to Lowe as he inclines his head like the Queen of England giving notice to one of her subjects. “I’ve decided not to cut your brake lines. We’re even.”
“Obliged,” Lowe says with a grin, and then he moves on as if nothing significant happened. “Let’s play another game of pool.”
CHAPTER 19
Lowe
“You’re taking me to your house, huh?” Mely says as she lowers her voice an octave. When I look over at her sitting in the passenger seat of my truck, she waggles her eyebrows at me knowingly.
Laughing, I just shake my head. “Not taking you to my house.”
“But you’re heading down the dirt drive that leads to the lake. Your house is on the other side,” she points out.
“Pretty sure I know my way around here better than you,” I say as I do indeed drive down the dirt road that leads to the lake, and then on around to my house.
“Let me get this straight,” she says slowly. “We’re on a dirt road that as far as I can remember, leads directly to Mainer Lake, and there’s nothing around Mainer Lake but your house.”
“Correct.”
“But we’re not going to your house, so I’m going to assume we’re going to be on the boat in the lake again,” she says confidently.
“Wrong,” I tell her more confidently.
“Wrong?”
“Wrong,” I affirm.
Mely lets out a mock sigh of frustration. Her voice is dry when she says, “Well, if you’re not taking me to your house—which is disappointing slightly—and we’re not getting in the boat, I can only then surmise you’re going to take me out into the woods and kill me.”
“That’s a pretty big leap,” I say with a grin as we bump along the road.
From the corner of my eye, I can see her dramatically throw her hands up in defeat. “I can’t figure out what the heck we’re doing.”
“Which is why it’s a surprise,” I say smugly. “Just cool your heels and have a bit of patience.”
“I’m a New Yorker. I move at the speed of light. I don’t have patience.”
“We’re going to change that about you,” I tell her with surety. I’ve learned enough about Mely to know she’d take to slow country living quite well.
I follow the road that runs on the outside of the trees that surround Mainer Lake, then turn into the path that’s big enough just for one vehicle and goes back about fifty yards to my cabin.
“Aha,” Mely says with superiority coating her voice thickly. “You did bring me to your house. You’ve got ulterior motives, don’t you?”
I drive past my house, cutting through my rough-cut front yard that borders the lake. “You want me to have ulterior movies?”
“Maybe,” she says coyly, and I don’t dare to look over at her. If the look in her eyes matches her tone of voice, I will indeed stop my truck and drag her into my house.
But that was not on the agenda, so I drive past my house, cut my wheel right, and pull up a few feet, before putting the truck deftly into reverse to back it up to the edge of the lake that’s bordered by a patch of cattails.
After I shift it into park, I turn the truck off and turn to look at Mely. Her eyes are bright, probably because she had a few beers more than she should have. I stopped after two because she and Morri were having fun after Gill a
nd Travis were booted out.
My hand throbs slightly, but I ignore it. It was so worth it to effectively shut his trap for him.
“I’m sad to say, sweet Mely, that I’ve got no ulterior motives tonight with you. We’re just camping.”
She blinks at me three times, slowly. “Camping?”
“With lanterns,” I add on.
“With lanterns?”
“In the back of my pickup.”
“Am I in the Twilight Zone?” she asks but her lips are curled at the ends so I know she’s amused.
I don’t respond. Instead, I jump out of the truck where I jog to her door and open it. I reach a hand out. She places hers in mine, and I help her with the slight hop down.
“You wait right there.” Opening the door to the rear cab where I stowed some gear earlier, I start unloading.
Mely watches me silently as I set everything up. It takes me seven trips into the rear cab to get everything. It takes about ten minutes to get it all up, and then I’m ready.
I turn to look at her reaction as she takes it in. I had transformed the back of my pickup into a little outdoor bed complete with a thick layer of blankets on the bottom for softness, followed by two sleeping bags on top. I even had two of the pillows from my bed in deference to this being what I’m betting is Mely’s first camping trip. I don’t want her to have to totally rough it. On the ledge of my truck bed, I’d placed various lanterns and candles. Every lantern was filled with citronella to help keep the bugs away, but it was a continuation of the mood the Lantern Festival had evoked last night when we were out on the lake. Finally, I’d put my battery operated, wireless speaker on the hood of the truck and had some Tim McGraw playing softly.
It was romantic as hell.
Would have gotten me laid with any other woman.
But tonight… we’re seriously just camping.
“What do you think?” I ask her with a self-assured smile.
“I think it’s amazing,” she murmurs as she takes it all in. Then she lifts her face to the night sky, and adds on. “Even more perfect than last night because the stars are all out tonight.”
Stubborn as a Mule Page 15