All That Charm: (A Morning Glory Novel Book 3)

by Liz Talley

  All That Charm

  Copyright ©2017 Liz Talley

  All Rights Reserved

  No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form by any means, including photocopying, recording, or by information storage and retrieval system, without the written permission of the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The use of locations and products throughout this book is done so for storytelling purposes and should in no way been seen as advertisement. Trademark names are used in an editorial fashion, with no intention of infringement of the respective owner’s trademark.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment. This e-book may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

  Edited and formatted by Victory Editing.

  Cover design by the Killion Group.

  “As iron sharpens iron, so one person sharpens another.” Proverbs 27:17

  For my “Wine Posse” who lets me bask in their fire, with a special thanks to Wallace Rakoczy for her help with the theatre bits.

  Morning Glory:

  Charmingly Yours

  Perfectly Charming

  Prince Not Quite Charming

  Home in Magnolia Bend:

  The Sweetest September

  Sweet Talking Man

  Sweet Southern Nights

  New Orleans Ladies:

  The Spirit of Christmas

  His Uptown Girl

  His Brown-Eyed Girl

  His Forever Girl

  Bayou Bridge:

  Waters Run Deep

  Under the Autumn Sky

  The Road to Bayou Bridge

  Oak Stand:

  Vegas Two-Step

  The Way to Texas

  A Little Texas

  A Taste of Texas

  A Touch of Scarlett

  Novellas:

  Hotter in Atlanta

  A Wrong Bed Christmas

  Cowboys for Christmas

  For something spicier:

  Cowboy Crush

  Dedication

  Also by Liz Talley

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Chapter Sixteen

  Chapter Seventeen

  Chapter Eighteen

  Chapter Nineteen

  Chapter Twenty

  Chapter Twenty One

  Chapter Twenty Two

  Want More?

  About the Author

  Every town has that family, and Morning Glory, Mississippi, was no exception. The Voorhees began their infamous run back in 1909 when Bailey “Dutch” Voorhees built the still that produced the best white lightning this side of the Mississippi River. For twenty years Dutch sold his hooch to sinners and saints alike, bribing the local deputies and running an operation that made plenty of money for the backwoods Voorhees. But then the outlaw patriarch got too fancy and lost his shirt in the stock market crash of ’29. And everything went downhill for the Voorhees after that.

  Which was why Eden Voorhees wanted to get the hell out of Morning Glory.

  Like yesterday.

  But that didn’t mean she didn’t have qualms about packing up her best boots and one nice sweater and moving to an apartment, sight unseen, in New Orleans.

  “I’m nervous,” Eden admitted to her good friend Rosemary Reynolds Genovese. Rosemary was perched on an aqua Adirondack chair on the patio of the new house she and her husband had moved into a month ago. January peeked around the corner at them, blowing a cold north wind down Eden’s back like a prankster, making her shift closer to the crackling fire. Rosemary had raved about the slate patio her husband Sal had put in and had been ecstatic over the patio furniture her parents had gifted her for Christmas. Eden couldn’t imagine receiving anything so expensive beneath her tree, but she didn’t begrudge her friend the spectacular present. She just wished Rosemary had debuted it when it was warmer than thirty-eight degrees. Fire pits only put out so much heat.

  “Don’t be nervous. This is your chance to do more than community theatre, to get out of Morning Glory for a while,” Rosemary said, picking up the fireplace tool and stirring around the bits of log in the flames. Above, the stars vibrated against the cold, clear sky and the large holly berry bushes lining the wooden fence lent unintentional holiday cheer to the backyard.

  “I know, and I’m excited about going to college. Finally,” Eden said, repressing her chattering teeth and snuggling into the down depths of her secondhand coat. The new scarf her friend Jess had given her for Christmas was cashmere and mocked the worn material she burrowed into. “But I feel guilty about leaving Mama. She’s not the easiest of people to deal with, and I’m used to her.”

  “You’re not abandoning her. Your sister’s taking your place.”

  “Still, Sunny just lost her husband. Maybe the timing isn’t right.” And what if I’m not smart enough? Or talented enough? What if I can’t hack it in the real world? But Eden didn’t want to admit to those fears even though they slithered back and forth in her gut, turning her stomach into a Tilt-A-Whirl platform.

  Rosemary made a sympathetic noise. “What happened to Sunny is sad, but you’ve taken care of your mother for a long time. It’s your turn to have a life, Eden. Besides, where else would Sunny go besides here?”

  Anywhere else.

  Eden started to say exactly that but held back. Rosemary loved Morning Glory. Not to mention her husband Sal had moved here from Brooklyn so he could live the small-town life. They were still caught up in a rosy newlywed haze and thought everything about the small town sitting forty miles east of Jackson, Mississippi, grand. Except the heat. No one really appreciated the viscous heat of the Deep South.

  But that wasn’t a problem in the last days of December.

  Eden shrugged. “I don’t know. The funeral was just last month. Things have been so hard for my sister and I feel . . . selfish.” And petrified of failing.

  “Are you joking? You’re the least selfish person I know.” Rosemary tossed another log on the fire and gave Eden a stern look. “You gave up everything to do the right thing, and it stranded you here. You’re not being a bad daughter or sister merely because you’re claiming a life for yourself. Sunny would tell you that.”

  Eden nodded and swallowed the sudden burning in her throat. She didn’t know why she felt so wishy-washy . . . so terrified about changing her life. Maybe it was the time of year. With New Year’s Eve a few days away, people started evaluating, thinking about regrets and forming plans to change their futures. For the past eleven years, Eden hadn’t had to worry about goals. Her life was about existing. But last spring everything had changed.

  For one thing, she’d lost Lacy Guthrie.

  From the beginning of junior high, Eden, Rosemary, Jess, and Lacy had been the best of friends. They’d weathered breakups, deaths, getting boobs, and cutting bangs for prom. They’d laughed, fretted, danced, and cried their way through high school. And though
they’d all taken different paths, the four girls had remained ever dear to one another. But then Lacy got cancer for a second time.

  And she died.

  Shortly after, Eden’s brother-in-law had gone missing in Afghanistan. His chopper went down in enemy territory, and he’d been declared MIA. Eden’s older sister Sunny had been stuck in limbo, not knowing if Alan was alive or dead. Over Thanksgiving they’d learned his body had been identified. Alan Stewart David had been killed in action, leaving Sunny a widow. Finally, after thirteen years, Sunny was coming home to fulfill the promise she’d made to Eden all those years ago—taking her turn as caregiver to their wheelchair-bound mother.

  “I know. Sunny said much the same thing. We had a deal, and she’s coming home,” Eden said to Rosemary, not knowing how she could explain the excitement and dread wrestling inside her. What she’d always wanted had finally come to fruition. She was getting her chance to bust out of Morning Glory and go to college. A bit late, but better late than stuck forever working as the manager of Penny Pinchers or doling out medications to her fractious mother. Not that she begrudged taking care of her mother. Okay, well maybe a little. When her mother had overdosed on cocaine and then had a stroke Eden’s senior year of high school, Sunny was already married and living in Virginia. And since Eden’s brother had died three years before and her stepfather was in prison, her mother’s care had been left to Eden. She’d been forced to turn down a scholarship to the University of New Orleans in order to go full-time at Penny Pinchers, a discount chain store. Complaining wasn’t in Eden’s nature, but she could acknowledge feeling just a teeny bit sorry for herself upon occasion. Hey, she wasn’t a saint.

  “Are you scared of living in New Orleans?” Rosemary asked, inching toward the fire. “I mean, I would be. Just the other day I read an article about the rise in New Orleans’s murder rate. Did you know—”

  “Cripes, you sound like your mother,” Eden said, rubbing her frozen hands together.

  Rosemary’s eyes widened and she snapped her mouth closed, looking horrified. Finally she said, “Oh God. It’s happening.”

  “What?”

  “I’m turning into her.”

  Eden laughed. “No, you’re not. It’s not as if I hadn’t thought about how different it will be living in the middle of a city. By myself.”

  “You’re brave.”

  “Or stupid.” Eden laughed.

  “Yoo-hoo,” someone called from the back door.

  Eden turned to find Jess staring at them quizzically.

  “Have you two lost your minds? It’s freezing out here.” Jess pushed out into the darkness, her brown curly hair lying soft against the wool peacoat she wore. She rubbed her arms and blew out her breath which was easily visible in the chilly air.

  “It’s warm by the fire,” Rosemary said, her chattering teeth betraying her words.

  “So I see.” Jess walked halfway across the patio before stopping and shaking her head. “You know what? No. I know the chairs are new and you want to use the fire pit Sal built you, but it’s too damn cold. Come inside. I brought some of Mom’s spiced tea.”

  Eden sprang up. “Thank God. I was freezing.”

  “Well, you didn’t say anything.” Rosemary grabbed the fire screen and settled it over the pit.

  “I was trying to be polite.”

  “You have to stop worrying about offending people. You’re moving to a city,” Jess said, holding the back door open as Eden ran inside into the blessed heat.

  Entering the warm house felt like butter sliding off a biscuit. Delicious. “And what? People in cities aren’t polite?” Eden rubbed her fingers to restore circulation.

  Rosemary closed the back door and shrugged off her coat. She smelled like smoke, which wasn’t unpleasant when combined with the perfume that wafted out as she hung her coat on the peg by the back door. “In New York City they weren’t impolite per se, just not interested in anyone around them. In fact, New Yorkers always looked startled when you asked them a question. And then they walked away awfully fast.”

  “We got crap to do is all,” Sal called from the recliner, his Brooklyn accent as thick as his wife’s Mississippi one. The man had never had a recliner before and now wouldn’t get out of it. Or so Rosemary said.

  Rosemary gestured toward her husband. “Well, there you go. They got crap to do.”

  Jess and Eden smiled as their friend walked over to her handsome husband and dropped a quick kiss on his lips. His hand came up and cupped her butt, giving it a squeeze.

  Rosemary swatted his hand, but her gray eyes danced as she said, “We’re going in the kitchen. Need anything?”

  “Another kiss?” he asked, tugging her toward him.

  Jess stuck her finger in her mouth, mimicking gagging, and turned into the small kitchen. Eden followed because she heard more kissing and didn’t need to be reminded she had no one to kiss. Not that Eden longed for a relationship at that moment. She had things to do first. But someday she wanted what both Rosemary and Jess had found over the past year.

  “You have no room to talk,” Eden said, pulling off her own coat and tossing it onto the chair in the corner of the dining nook. She still wore her Penny Pinchers polo shirt and khaki pants. Antithesis of stylish. “Where is the boy genius anyway?”

  “At his parents’ house. His father found a box of his comic books and Pokémon cards when he pulled down the Christmas decorations this year. Ryan was ecstatic. When I left, he was in the process of filling out a spreadsheet.”

  “I remember how much he loved those silly cards when he was a kid.” Eden slid onto a barstool.

  Jess’s current boyfriend, Ryan, had attended Morning Glory High School with all of them, but he’d been much younger, advancing though high school and college at lightning speed. At thirteen, Ryan had been awkward, nerdy, and carrying a huge torch for Jess . . . along with a binder of trading cards. Back in the summer, Jess had tripped over Ryan lying naked on the beach when she went down to Pensacola to do contract work as a surgical nurse. She’d not been looking for love after a rough divorce from her high school sweetheart, but the Brain had grown into such a hottie, Jess had tumbled into love with him. They lived in Pensacola where Jess had found a full-time position and were as happy as two pigs in a patch of mud.

  Jess tossed her coat on top of Eden’s and swung the kettle toward the faucet. In a snowman jar sat the powdered spice-tea mix Jess’s mother made every year. “Yeah, still a nerd at heart.”

  “But a hot one,” Eden added.

  “Who’s good in bed,” Jess purred, filling the kettle with water. “Thank God.”

  “TMI.” Eden lifted the plastic wrap on a plate of cookies on the counter and snagged a sugar cookie with red icing. She didn’t want to know the details of Jess’s sex life.

  “Really? Cause you’ve been in quite a drought, Eden. When’s the last time you even went on a date?” Jess crooked an eyebrow at her.

  “What does it matter? Have you looked around? Morning Glory doesn’t have much in the way of choice,” Eden said, biting into the cookie. Like everything Rosemary did, the cookie was spectacular. “Unless you want me to date Hooter. I mean, he just got new dentures and all, so I think that makes him the most eligible bachelor in all of Morning Glory. Or maybe Earl Vetters? I heard he won good prize money at the lawnmower races this year.”

  Jess gave Eden a deadpan look. “You don’t have to date Earl or Hooter. There are other men here. But no worries, you’re heading down to a nice big city full of eligible men.”

  Eden shook her head so hard her dark hair flew into her mouth. “Nuh-uh.”

  “What?”

  She pushed the tendril from her mouth. “I’m not looking for love. Forget about it.”

  “Forget about what?” Rosemary said, sliding into the kitchen in her socks. She grabbed a cookie shaped like a star and took a bite.

  “Eden finding a hot man to curl her toes in New Orleans.” Jess cranked up the flame beneath the burner and set
the kettle on it.

  “I don’t want to find a man. I want to get my degree. To live on my own. To sleep late . . . but not on days I have class. A man doesn’t factor in.” Eden pushed the rest of the cookie into her mouth and crossed her arms. She meant it. Her friends had found love and she was happy for them. Truly. But she didn’t have time for love to railroad her. She had dreams, big fat dreams that involved her name in lights. Men were a dime a dozen and she had her whole life to find love, but a career on the stage had a shelf life, and she was fast approaching career spinsterhood.

  “Oh, Eden, a man is the best reason to sleep late. I love the way they look in the morning light. All scruffy with bed hair and naked chests. Mmmm . . . delicious.” Rosemary took another bite of cookie, her eyes glazed and dreamy.

  Eden made a face because her mouth was still too full of cookie for her to snort.

  Jess put both elbows on the granite counter and settled her pointed chin into her palms. “Hey, E. I gotta ask. Are you still a virgin?”

  Eden sucked in a breath and swallowed at the same time. Which was not a good idea. Because as soon as she did, she choked. In spectacular fashion. She hacked up glumpy lump of sugar cookie, which landed on the counter near Jess’s elbows and caused her friend to lurch backward. Then Eden dissolved into gut-wrenching coughs that made her sound like a goose being mounted by a gander. Or was the gander the girl goose? Didn’t matter. She’d seen geese doing it, and it was a noisy affair.

  “Oh God,” Rosemary said, thumping her on the back. Hard. “Do I need to do the Heimlich?”

  Eden shook her head and gasped, “Water.”

  Jess grabbed a nearby glass and filled it at the sink. Setting it in front of her, she stepped back, looking guilty and a bit scared. “I’m sorry, E. I didn’t mean for that to happen.”

  Eden waved her hands, trying to cough up the last piece still hung in her throat. “I’m good. It’s fine.”

  Rosemary patted her back, and Eden cleared her throat while wiping away the tears that coursed down her cheeks. Finally she got the last bit up. Then she drank the rest of the water.