Touch Me (Promise Me Book 2)

by Viragh, Brea

  “Why’s that?” I couldn’t help but ask.

  August growled. “I told her about a cheating boyfriend and she refused to speak to me. Packed up her stuff and moved to the west coast.”

  “So now I get to sit on the sideline and watch you put the moves on your childhood love. You make me sick, McKenney.”

  He didn’t pause in his furious smoothing yet still managed to study me. “You don’t have a problem playing my woman friend for, like, the next month?” he joked.

  “I’m already your woman friend.”

  “How else am I going to explain you being around?”

  “If you’re trying to convince Isabel of your availability, having a girlfriend around, even a pretend one, seems like the worst plan,” I stated, considering him. Not bad looking by any means, but not my type. August didn’t have enough meat on his bones for my liking. He was too lanky, too pretty, not rough enough around the edges.

  “Trust me on this. I need you.”

  “I’m not sleeping with you either.”

  He held his hands up in front of him. “I’m not asking for sexual favors. I just need you to be there. Deal?”

  I scratched the side of my head. “As I said before. Yes.”

  “I’m happy to hear you say it, Leda. You’re a heck of a lady.”

  He’d caught me in a weak moment. “Sure, weasel your way through my defenses, McKenney.”

  August considered the choice of chisel before moving on with his creation. “You out of here?”

  Stretching, I said, “I have a few appointments this afternoon that I can’t reschedule. Some of us have to work for a living.”

  “You’ll be able to live your passion soon. Trust me.”

  The advice came matter-of-factly, the offhand comment most people make when they were only half-listening to a conversation.

  “Your optimism is enlightening, it’s true.” I crossed the distance between us and leaned in for our obligatory hug. The unforced kind few pull off, an easy affirmation of affection. “Take care of yourself, okay? I don’t want to have to scrape you off the sidewalk once this fiancé gets ahold of you. We’re in this together.”

  August gave me a single, sweaty squeeze before releasing. “I’m glad I can count on you, sweetie.”

  “Yeah, yeah.” I waved him off. “I hope you remember this the next time I need my oven cleaned, because I don’t do the scrubbing.”

  “I would for you, sure,” he promised.

  I flashed him a wink over my shoulder as I walked to the car. “You better believe it.”

  The moment he turned, I crossed my fingers and hoped agreeing to August’s favor wouldn’t spell doom.

  CHAPTER TWO

  Summer in the country meant there were good weather and bad, like anywhere else. The sky remained a perfect blue two days later, with bits of white dotting the horizon. A day to stay outside soaking in the warmth and maybe take a tubing trip down the river, relaxing with a cool drink afterward. Grabbing a blanket and lying out in a field with a book, to read and watch whatever curious creatures came close enough to visit. Or simply enjoy the quiet.

  Business hours for me ended when the sun set beyond the horizon. The last of my customers headed out to their cars and returned home for an evening with family. Then my time began.

  Those golden hours where I could let loose and be whomever I chose. Do what I wanted. Sure, there was no one to greet me at home when I punched out from work. No one to rub my shoulders and ask me about my day. Most days I acknowledged my choice to be alone. Tonight, however, I chose female company instead of being with my own boring self.

  I found myself at the mercy of a woman with steel for a spine and a heart she would rather lock closed than open for the public.

  “Pour me some wine and let’s get this party started.” I held out my empty goblet in anticipation.

  Nell Quade, my best friend since I’d moved to town, was happy to oblige me by emptying the carafe of robust red. “As you wish, my dear.”

  She’d been my very first customer, willing to risk the health of her hair on an upstart newbie. I’d cut close to a foot off her ’do and gained a friend in the process. I recalled the stressed-out brunette scratching her nails down the outside of my door. She needed a trim, yesterday, she told me in the harried tone of a lady who habitually fought the clock and lost. Green scrubs hung loose on her frame and there was a frantic air about her I couldn’t ignore.

  Nell enjoyed my no-nonsense attitude, and I enjoyed her refusal to beat around the bush. Close to being the same and all it took for us to cement a bond.

  “Thank you.” I swirled the liquid and inhaled deeply, kicking my feet up on the couch to relax. The furniture was ugly as sin yet comfortable as a dream. I imagined with a bit of reupholstering I’d never be able to drag myself off the cushions. “I can’t tell you how much I’ve needed a day like this. Eighteen years of cutting hair and my hands are starting to get carpal tunnel.” I brandished my fingers to prove the point. “And to think it all started in my mom’s covered porch at the tender age of eleven.”

  “I believe it. Knitting is the same. It’s all in the joints.” Nell twisted her wrist and a cacophony of cracks sounded in the air. “I look forward to the day when I never have to go to a craft show and sell my shit again. All for the sake of school loans.” She took a sip of wine, her face screwing up. “One day at a time.”

  We sat in the comfort of her living room, two full days after my meeting with August. The windows were open and the sounds of crickets and night peepers came in through the screens. So much better than the city, I determined, which was why I’d packed the car and never looked back. The rugged rural boundaries of Heartwood County, Virginia, were perfect for me.

  “But you’re the best nurse I know, and your knit blankets are super soft.”

  Nell did not appear amused. “Sure, sure. You have to say that because we’re buddies.”

  “I don’t have to say anything. Let’s forget about all the crap for now and enjoy this great merlot. Thanks again for the purchase.” I leaned forward and closed the distance between us until our glasses clinked together.

  Nell groaned, copying my posture and folding her frame into a wingback chair. Her delicate feet perched along the arm, toenails painted a tart lime green. “No problem. You know I love it when we get together.” She sent me the stink eye. “When you find time for me. It’s become an occasion.”

  “Yeah, well, I haven’t had the opportunity.” I buried the shadow of guilt in my wine glass and inhaled. “I’ve been involved with trying to get my bakery off the ground, scouting locations and doing some math. I’m serious this time.”

  Math, the Devil’s weapon against humans. I had a firm belief it would bring about the apocalypse. But like all terrible things, it was required.

  “You know I’ve tried my best to avoid spreadsheets, and still, out of necessity they’ve become my best friends,” I continued.

  Paying bills and doing what you love are not always synonymous. I wanted to bake. More than bake, I wanted to create. Cute little culinary confections designed to dazzle the taste buds and bring flavors to life.

  I experimented with combinations from my garden, whatever herbs, fruits, and vegetables managed to survive my black thumb and the herds of deer. With a taste for flavors and a steady stream of willing guinea pigs, I was always on the hunt for new and interesting combinations. The profiles I deemed workable were tweaked to perfection while the others I threw away.

  As a result, I’d achieved a delicious recipe for beet and chickpea fritters, and had a following of customers from my beauty chair asking me for cupcakes. Farm-to-table appealed to a number of people in my small town and I aimed to please. Word of mouth built a reputation fast.

  Hopefully down the road I would be able to reach out to other local farmers and exchange wares for produce. Small towns fostered these unique relationships, and despite my standing within the community, asking was always hard without a business
reputation to back it up.

  “I haven’t seen you in, what? Weeks,” Nell supplied at last. “We live five miles apart and you’ve made me wait two stupid weeks for the pleasure of your company. You know no one else can stand me for long. I’ve been lonely!”

  “I’ll make it up to you,” I said languidly. Wiggling my feet and toes, I swirled my wine in a circle within the glass confines. “When are you going to let me fix your hair?”

  Nell fingered the tousled, tawny strands trailing down to the middle of her back. “I don’t know what you mean by fix. My hair looks perfect as it is. And men love to wrap it in their hands and give it a good tug.”

  I chuckled, although I liked her idea. “You’re gross. And a different style would fit your face so much better. All your hair drags you down. With your features, you should show them off.”

  “Yeah, right.”

  “Ever wonder why you have one-night stands instead of relationships? It’s the hair.”

  Nell threw the remote at me. “Shut up.”

  She was like a painting in a museum, one of those pale ladies draped in mink, with delicate features dwarfed under the weight of their wealth. We were two sides of the same coin, light and dark, fair and golden, creative and sassy women of little means. No wonder we got along well.

  We nestled across from each other, prepared to let go of our troubles and vent any grievances with the world after a hard day of work.

  “I’ve been meaning to tell you. I spoke to August the other day,” I began. The mention of the conversation had my lungs contracting and I wondered what Nell would have to say.

  She picked up the rhythm of the conversation in a snap. “How’s he doing? The next time you see him, tell August my brother loves the guitar I got for his birthday.”

  “Sure, I’ll let him know.” I bowled over her endorsement and cut straight to the juicy meat of the matter. “He’s calling in his favor.”

  At the mention of the favor, Nell shifted her weight, elbows going to her knees. “Do tell. I remember cautioning you not to agree off the hip, no matter what kind of relationship you have with the guy. Those kinds of promises can come back and bite you in the ass.” She gnashed her teeth. “Why you’re willing to risk yours is beyond me.”

  “I told you, family sticks together. I don’t mind helping him out.” I took a sip of merlot before continuing.

  I relayed my conversation with August, watching Nell’s face darken until she finally burst out with “Somehow this doesn’t sound like a regular favor.”

  So I clarified.

  Nell leaned back in her seat, eyes glued to her glass. “You may need to back up and tell August to save his favor for another day. You could be on the wrong end of a love triangle and, while I commend one in bed, it doesn’t work so well in real life.”

  I hadn’t had the time to consider the repercussions, focused as I was on my business startup and the slew of salon appointments rolling in. “There’s nothing wrong with helping two people in love reconnect.”

  “Tell him no,” Nell answered. She reached forward to the antipasto platter on the coffee table and selected a plump black olive. Nell considered herself a dabbler when it came to savory cuisine. As they were fond of saying in the county, bless her heart, but she couldn’t cook for shit. Knowing she always had an olive dish ready and waiting sealed the deal when it came to deciding on her house or mine.

  Those, at least, were safe to eat. I’d known her to burn water in the past.

  I swirled a finger along the glass rim and contemplated the food. “What can go wrong?” The area between my shoulder blades itched in anticipation of something terrible coming down from the sky to strike me.

  “Well, now you’re just asking for trouble,” Nell commented. She looked down at her pajamas, baggy and holey with the advantage of comfort and little else. “If you’re looking for some action, you can always go down to the Tooth. Better that than risk your reputation.”

  “The bar?” I blew a raspberry. “Your scene, not mine. I prefer to fish in the ocean instead of a tiny crowed pond.”

  She huffed. “I quite like my pond, thank you very much.”

  “And what do you mean, my reputation?”

  “You ever think what will happen if word gets around you helped break up a relationship?” Nell popped another olive in her mouth, then spoke through her half-chewed food. “It’s a small town, and you’re trying to start a business. You should be worried about how your image will be ruined by this plan with August. Think of the negative impact it could have on your bakery! No matter what you do, your business will rely on what people think of you. You do the math, Leda.” She swallowed noisily.

  “He’s in love with her.” I couldn’t think about the possibilities of screwing my plans, not now. A fissure of cold opened up in my gut and soured the contents. My bakery meant everything to me.

  Nell’s smug grin dropped into a scowl. “The whole situation is messed up, man. I can’t believe you’re going through with this.”

  Way to make me feel bad about my agreement. Dammit, Nell. “I gave my word.” My hands fisted around the glass stem. “I have to believe it will work out. For love.”

  “Try reasoning with the town when you’ve become the trollop.” Nell formed a shield with her arms. “Their words, not mine.”

  My fingers continued to tighten. “I make dessert every day to offer my customers while they get their hair cut because I’ve thought long and hard about marketing to build up my brand. I sell cakes and sweets on the side and have a steady following of repeats.” I needed to make her understand my position, the numerous things I’d already done to ensure the future of my dream.

  “Means nothing if they think you broke up a marriage. And I don’t have the time or energy to defend your honor.”

  “I won’t be the—” The other woman. A role I’d avoided like the plague all my thirty years of living.

  I glanced down at my wine and wondered at the dregs left at the bottom. When the hell had I downed the whole thing?

  “I understand romantic notions. I don’t have any of my own, mind you,” Nell amended, “but this seems a little...out of whack. I’m not going to tell you what to do—”

  “I have to believe I’m doing the right thing.”

  “—but I will tell you to watch your back.”

  I’m not talking about this. If I talk about the bad things, they’ll happen.

  I knew how small towns worked. Everyone knew everyone else, so personal business and details flew through the air faster than a virus. And twice as contagious. Shaking my head against the niggling doubts pressing against my skull, I rose. “I need ice cream.”

  Nell glowered at me. “And what makes you think I’ll share with you?”

  Instead of answering, I handed her the keys to my Hyundai, keeping my gaze trained on the woolen tufts of carpet. “Store.”

  “You want me to drive you to the store now? Are you kidding? It’s, like, five o’clock.”

  “I feel like I’m gonna barf, and the only thing I can eat is ice cream.” Indeed, the churning in my gut tripled as I thought about the possibilities of events going wrong. Part of me recognized the fine line I straddled. Murphy’s Law meant whatever could go wrong would, and more than likely Nell’s doubts would play out faster than a song on a radio. There were numerous ways this venture could, and probably would, fail. I had to be prepared for the consequences of my actions, but not tonight.

  We drove to the nearest store, Heartwood County Corner General Store, where the locals gathered on Friday nights for the weekly jamboree. Where fiddles flew and flat-footing rocked the floor joists. Nell continued to babble her displeasure at the arrangement, and though she was starting to sound like a broken record, I smartly kept my mouth closed.

  It’s for the best, I reminded myself. Nothing in the world should come between true love. Somehow the reasoning didn’t seem as sound in the dark of night.

  The car doors slammed in tandem and I breathed
in the heavy evening air, the streets quiet in the hush of twilight.

  “I’m not buying your cone,” Nell told me. “You want those fancy flavors, you get them yourself.”

  The smile on my face didn’t waver. It didn’t falter. But the smile in my eyes, the genuine part, dimmed. “I expected nothing less, although you sure are full of disagreements tonight.” My stomach agreed.

  A tinny tone sounded in the back to herald our arrival when we pushed inside. Rows of wares greeted us, with an ice cream counter to the right and a small kitchen in the rear of the building. A single, sweeping glance along the rows of merchandise had me grabbing Nell by the scruff of her shirt and dragging her behind the nearest bookshelf.

  “What the hell is wrong with you?” She scratched at my hand until I let go. “You suddenly feel the need to get physical?”

  I pointed toward the back of the store and hissed out my answer. “Look over there.” Nell popped around the shelf with the swiftness of a top off a shaken bottle of soda. I slapped her arm. “Stop being so obvious!”

  “It’s August, so what?” Her voice was too loud, though I caught the moment her tone changed, mouth rounded. “It’s August talking to a woman.”

  Craning my neck, I peeked above the wooden display. I hadn’t had the chance to see who else was nearby in my haste to remain undiscovered. Indeed, August leaned against the ordering station near the kitchen, eyes locked with those of a female I’d never seen before.

  The fissure of cold, brittle as ice, shattered in my chest and rolled off of me like morning mist. I turned back to Nell and smiled, the one I used to show her she was wrong and I planned to rub it in her face.

  Her hands went to her hips and she raised a doubting eyebrow.

  “That’s Isabel.” I took pride in telling her. “The girl he’s in love with.”

  “How can you tell?”

  I swiveled around to watch the happy couple, pleased as punch that my sudden desire for ice cream had paid off big time. My doubts melted as I stared at the two of them. Isabel, or so her nametag assured me, was unconsciously mirroring August’s posture, leaning ever so slightly in his direction.