Stubborn as a Mule

by Sawyer Bennett

  I delete that voice mail too.

  The third, surprisingly, isn’t from Lowe, but his mother, and that really shames me.

  Catherine’s voice is sweet as honey, and I can tell she’s as concerned for me as she is her son. Mely… sweetie. I made a promise to myself I’d never interfere in my children’s love lives, but I can’t help it. What you heard was beyond wrong, and there are a lot of people here who are sorry for hurting you. Please don’t turn this on Lowe, though. I can promise you that my boy loves you and would never in a million years hurt you. Please call him.

  Oh, God. I’m drowning in guilt. I hit delete as fast as I can.

  Then I turn to the texts from Lowe.

  They are numerous but surprisingly short, except for the last one.

  Mely… want to grab some lunch together?

  Hello?

  Mely, are you okay?

  I’m getting worried. Going to head over to Mainer House.

  I left you a voice mail an hour ago and you still can’t call?

  Clearly, it’s too much of a bother for you to call me. I just left you another voice mail, and as you might can tell…I. AM. REALLY. PISSED. You’re being a brat.

  Then the long text, and I feel like my heart curls up and dies when I finish it.

  I’m done, Mely. Done chasing you. I thought about hopping a plane to New York and dragging you back here, but then I thought… why should I even bother with the effort? She can’t even return my phone call. Hell, she can’t even bother with the truth. You just up and left without even letting me try to defend myself. So no… not coming to New York after you. Not going to answer your call if you do bother to try to reach me. Only other thing I want you to know is I’ve done some digging and all of this was orchestrated by Lynette. I thought you were smarter than the way you’re acting. Thought you would have figured that out. She’s a piece of work alright, but here’s the thing… she would have at least given me the benefit of the doubt.

  I suck in a breath between my teeth, because that was just harsh.

  But it was also calculated, I know, because without any further thought, I’m dialing Lowe’s number. He doesn’t answer as he promised, and I don’t leave a message.

  What I have to say is too important for that.

  CHAPTER 25

  Lowe

  I measure the area where the check-in desk will go for a third time because even the old motto “measure twice, cut once” isn’t good enough for me.

  “Sarah and I are going to be at Chesty’s tonight if you want to come by for a drink.”

  Damn it.

  I lose the number in my head as Lynette prattles on, and I can’t concentrate at all. I measure again while she talks, and try to tune her out. But tuning her out means I think about Mely, and that’s even worse.

  It’s been two days since she left, leaving behind that godawful note.

  Two days where she’s not responded to my voice mails or texts.

  Not even that last one where I practically taunted her to come flying back to town to chew me out. I figured about the only way to get her to respond to me was to piss her off on a womanly level, and I also figured throwing Lynette’s name at her would do it.

  But apparently not. I’ve heard nothing.

  Neither has Morri, who has been in constant contact with me.

  “Lowe,” Lynette whines, and I cringe inside. “Are you even listening to me?”

  “I’m trying to measure something,” I tell her, hoping the terse tone gets the message to her that I’m busy.

  “Got time to talk to me?”

  And that’s a voice I’m completely interested in listening to.

  I whip around to see Mely standing in the doorway of Millie’s, which is really just the framing and drywall at this point, but still…

  She looks beautiful, and the fullness in my heart right now is an indication of just how lonely I’ve been without her.

  “Welcome back,” I say with a smile as I toss my pencil down on the notepad that’s resting on my workbench.

  Mely narrows her eyes at Lynette. I can tell this was not the best scenario for her to have found me in, so I correct the situation the only way I can.

  The right way.

  “Lynette,” I say, and she turns toward me, a pinched look on her face. “I’d like a little privacy so I can talk to Mely if you don’t mind.”

  There.

  Nice. Polite. To the point.

  “So I’ll see you at Chesty’s tonight?” Lynette inquires with a tone that suggests we had firm plans. My stomach drops as Mely’s eyes turn practically frigid.

  “Pretty sure I’m going to be groveling to my wife instead,” I mutter, and then curse as Mely turns around and flies back out the door.

  “Don’t go after her, Lowe,” Lynette says as she latches onto my wrist.

  I pull it free, completely ignoring Lynette and running out the door after my wayward spouse.

  She’s headed toward Mainer House. I catch up with her just as she hits that block. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her to a stop, turning her to face me.

  “Don’t be mad about Lynette,” I cajole. “She came by and was just yammering nonsense. I wasn’t even listening to her. I have no intentions, nor will I ever, of meeting up with her for a drink. She was just pulling your chain, babe.”

  “Don’t babe me,” she grits out, tearing free of my hold so easily. I realize I underestimated how pissed she was to find me in that situation. I’m thinking my last text to her where I threw Lynette’s name in there was a mistake. “I’m going home.”

  Okay, time to turn the tables on my little spitfire. I slip my arm around her waist again and start directing her toward Mainer House. “Good idea. Let’s go to our house and talk about this.”

  Hopefully, we’ll get naked after we talk, but I doubt she wants to hear that.

  Mely spins on me again, managing to dislodge my arm from her waist. She slaps something against my chest. My hands come up to take a thick, white envelope from her as she hisses, “It’s not my house. It’s your house.”

  Looking down, I examine the envelope and see a New York law firm address on it.

  “Oh, hell no,” I say through gritted teeth, waving the envelope. “You are not divorcing me. You didn’t even give us a chance.”

  “Those aren’t divorce papers,” she says softly, and relief floods my body. “I deeded the house to you. It’s yours now regardless of what happens to us.”

  “What?” I ask, stunned and perplexed and incredibly turned on that she’s not divorcing me. That would have been her easiest solution if she really believed those things about me, and the mere fact that she’s not doing that means she wants to stay married.

  She wants to be with me.

  I have to force myself to remain calm and not drag her inside Mainer House to exercise marital rights in, which I don’t give a damn what she says is on these papers, our house.

  “The house isn’t part of our marriage anymore,” Mely says as she clasps her hands in front of her almost primly. “Therefore, if you want to divorce me, then I’ll know it’s not about the house.”

  “That implies you want to stay married,” I say hesitantly.

  Please, oh please, say you want to stay married.

  Mely lifts her chin up. “I think it’s worth—”

  “Lowe,” I hear from behind me, and I cringe.

  I can’t help it. I full-out cringe and shoot Mely an apologetic look as Lynette comes up beside me. Crossing her arms over her chest, she glances at Mely and then at me. “We were discussing getting together tonight, and I get you want to set things straight with this woman, but let’s face it… it’s never going to work out between you two.”

  I open my mouth but then Mely’s hand is on my arm where she gives me a warning squeeze. Stepping in front of me, Mely says in a very soft but deadly voice, “I’m only going to say this once. You stay the hell away from my husband. He’s not interested in you. Hasn’t been fo
r years. You are doing nothing but embarrassing yourself with this childish behavior, and it’s doing nothing more than labeling you the town idiot.”

  “Why…… you…” Lynette starts sputtering, but Mely cuts her off.

  “I’m here to stay, Lynette. Get used to it. Go about with your spiteful jealousy and your hot-winded gossip, but know that nothing you say will ever cause me to doubt my husband again. My advice to you is to move on and save some face, okay?”

  Lynette opens her mouth, but I’ve had enough. My arms come around Mely from the back, circle around her chest, and pull her back into me. I look over her head at Lynette and stake my claim as the man who will protect Mely from anything and everyone.

  “It’s time for you to move on, Lynette. And by that, I mean don’t look my way or Mely’s way again. Don’t talk about her. If I find it happening, you won’t be happy.”

  “You can’t threaten me—”

  “Lynette,” I bark at her. “Grow the hell up and move on. We’ve got better things to do than to argue with you about this.”

  Finally, she does something smart and shuts her mouth. I don’t trust it though, so I take Mely by the hand and lead her up to Mainer House. I fish my keys out of my pocket, unlock the door, and give her a gentle push in.

  She spins on me as I close the door. “I’m sorry I left like that. It was impetuous and childish and I don’t know what overcame me.”

  “Can I take a guess?” I ask her with a gentle smile as I put my hands on her shoulders.

  She nods with relief that she won’t have to do all the heavy work in this apology.

  “I think you love me. I don’t know if you admitted it to yourself, and Lord knows we hadn’t said the words to each other outright, but I think when you heard from the town gossips that I was using you to get that house, you were crushed. Devastated. Completely overwhelmed with the implications.”

  “Think much of yourself?” Mely mutters as her gaze drops downward, but I know I’m right.

  I bring her gaze back up to mine with a push of my hand under her chin. “I love you, Mely. Just go ahead and admit you love me too.”

  She laughs and shakes her head. “You’re impossible not to love, Lowe.”

  “Okay,” I say crisply. “Going back to my last point… I get why you ran. It had to have been awful to hear that stuff.”

  “I feel like an idiot that I even gave it any credence,” she mutters.

  “I’d never in my life do anything that underhanded,” I tell her.

  “I know,” she says quickly. “I mean… I really know that. Once I got past the hurt and shock of the entire town having this theory, I realized how wrong they were. You’d have never done that to anyone.”

  “You know my last text to you was to light a fire under your butt to get you back here?” I ask her. “I was goading you with mentioning Lynette.”

  “I know that. And you’re lucky I’m a savvy woman who gets these things or I could have made your life a living hell.”

  Chuckling, I pull her into me hard and plaster a kiss to the top of her head. “God, I love you.”

  “Back at you,” she mumbles into my chest.

  “But if you ever take off like that again without talking to me, I’ll redden your hind end something fierce.”

  “Maybe I like that,” she says as she pulls back to look at me.

  I, in turn, look upward to the clouds in the sky. “Oh, dear baby Jesus in heaven. Please don’t let her be joking about that. I know we’re still learning stuff about each other, but if you could have seen fit to give me a wife who is adventurous in the—”

  Mely hits me in the stomach, not all that lightly, and I double over.

  I grin at her. Her smile shows me she still thinks I’m cute as all get out.

  “Can we go upstairs and make up proper like?” I ask.

  Her gaze turns to look at the staircase briefly before turning back to me. “You think sex is the answer to our problems?”

  “We don’t have problems, babe,” I tell her just before I swoop her into my arms. She laughs and wraps her arms around my neck. “But if we ever do, I’m going to insist we always rectify them in the bedroom.”

  “I’m down with that,” she says before pressing her lips to my neck.

  And I run up the stairs with my new wife, eager to get started on our life together again.

  The Gossip Mill

  at Mainer House

  by Floyd Wilkie

  “You go.” I push Muriel in the back.

  She locks her legs and doesn’t budge, but she does hiss at me over her shoulder. “No. You go.”

  “Billy… you go on up,” I suggest.

  “No way,” he says as he moves to the back of the crowd standing on the sidewalk in front of Mainer House.

  “Sarah?” I ask.

  Sarah stands there with a homemade peach pie in her hands, but she shakes her head in the negative.

  “Della?” I ask, turning to the woman beside me.

  “I wasn’t there on the day you all became jackasses,” she points out. “I’m just more of a welcome party.”

  Della has a casserole in her hands, and it smells divine.

  “Fine,” I grumble as I start toward the porch. I stomp up the steps and when I get to the top, I wait for my compatriots to gather round me.

  I look over my shoulder to find them still standing on the sidewalk.

  “Get up here,” I growl at them. “Or I’m going to use the keys I’ve collected to each of your houses and businesses and I’m going to do something you wish I wouldn’t.”

  All of them scurry up the porch steps.

  Taking a deep breath, I turn around and knock on the door.

  It takes a moment, then I hear feet coming down the stairs. Lowe opens the door wearing a t-shirt and a pair of cut-off sweat pants, his hair sticking up all over the place. He looks clear and bright eyed, which means he didn’t just wake up, which means he wasn’t sleeping, which means he was in bed for other reasons.

  Damn.

  “Is Mely available?” I ask tentatively.

  Lowe grins at me. “Yeah… she’s coming.”

  And then there she is.

  Tying a long robe at her waist, her hair also sticking up all over the place. The smile on her face indicates that—

  Well, she looks happy.

  Mely comes to the door and looks at the crowd. “Um… hey, all.”

  Lowe’s arm comes around her waist, and he pulls her protectively into him. His smile is warm and welcoming to me though, so he knows we’re here to rectify things.

  “Mely,” I begin after a soft cough. “We all hate that we upset you the other day. It’s not right, but it’s what happens in a small town. People talk because nothing interesting ever happens here. Normally, it’s harmless stuff, but in this instance, you and Lowe got hurt, and we sure are sorry. We hope you’re back to stay though, and we want you to be a part of Whynot. We want you to start gossiping with us, so to speak.”

  My words must be the thing she needed to hear because she’s pulling me down for a hard hug as she murmurs, “Thank you, Floyd. That was lovely, and yes… I’m here to stay.”

  “Good,” I tell her, all gruff and business like again. “I’ve added Mainer House to my nightly route. You’re safe, darlin’.”

  “Aww… that’s sweet, Floyd,” she says.

  “I’ll need a key to your house, though… just in case.”

  “Not a chance,” she says firmly but with a polite smile.

  I just nod and back away, so everyone else can have a few words.

  One by one, they approach with apologies and food.

  Invitations for coffee and bridge club.

  Queries as to whether there will be a real wedding and if it will be an open bar.

  You know… important stuff.

  Eventually, everyone has their say, has put their gifts just inside the house, and then Lowe and Mely are backing away and shutting the door to get back to their hone
ymoon.

  We all turn and amble down the steps.

  “I’m thinking we’re going to hear a baby crying in about nine months’ time,” Billy posits.

  “No way,” Della says. “They’ll want some time to themselves to get to know each other. Two years.”

  “I’ll say eighteen months,” Muriel adds on. “Wanna start a pool?”

  I shake my head at these people who just can’t seem to stay out of other people’s business.

  “What do you think, Floyd?” Della asks.

  “Put me down for twenty-two months,” I mutter as I hit the sidewalk and start walking back toward my store.

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  Barking Up the Wrong Tree

  The Sex and Sweet Tea Series #3

  SAWYER BENNETT WRITING AS

  Juliette Poe

  CHAPTER 1

  Pap

  The door to Chesty’s opens, and I’m stunned to see my twin granddaughters walking in. So stunned, I check my watch.

  Yup… only three PM on a Friday and both being local business owners, they rarely take a Friday afternoon off. It’s almost unheard of for them to be able to take it off at the same time.

  “Not that I’m complaining,” I say to them as they head my way, “but to what do I owe the pleasure?”

  The girls grin at me as they take the two stools to my immediate right. Sam-Pete is there, putting down two frothy mugs of beer that he started pouring the minute they walked in. It’s slow on a Friday afternoon, but it will start picking up in a few hours.

  Larkin, the younger of the identicals by roughly two minutes but seemingly the more mature, gives a quick smile to Sam-Pete as Lakin pulls a twenty-dollar bill out to hand to him. “Her drinks are on me this afternoon, as are Pap’s.”