Candis Terry - [Sweet, Texas 01]

by Anything But Sweet

  Tonight, when he’d walked into that bar and seen Charli sitting there with Ben Marshall, something in his blood began to boil.

  Something that felt a whole lot like jealousy.

  Which was completely insane.

  And then to kiss her?

  What the hell was I thinking?

  He ran his hand through his hair and flopped back on the bed. Bear crawled closer and snuffled against his side.

  He couldn’t blame the alcohol in his blood because that had burned off hours ago. He couldn’t blame loneliness because between Jackson and Jesse he barely got a moment alone. And he couldn’t just blame the fact that he was attracted to her because he’d been attracted to women before and often hadn’t acted.

  For several minutes, he lay there, thinking so hard his head began to ache. When his reason became clear, he pushed a tight breath from his lungs.

  It was the look in her eye when she’d made the comment, “I had to learn to be outspoken so I wouldn’t be completely ignored.”

  Charlotte Brooks was not the type of woman who should be ignored.

  He reached down and stroked the top of Bear’s head, receiving a contented doggie groan for his efforts.

  The look in Charli’s eye was one Reno had seen over the years when he’d looked in the mirror.

  He recognized the sense of abandonment.

  The hurt.

  The need.

  He related.

  And so he’d kissed her.

  When he’d lifted his head and looked into her expressive eyes again, he’d wanted to pull her back into his arms and never let go.

  And that just plain scared the hell out of him.

  Chapter 9

  “So why doesn’t someone as pretty as you have a man?” Arlene Potter, copresident of the senior center asked, as Charli stood in the midst of the chaos the production crew called the load in.

  “I could ask you the same thing, Ms. Potter.” She set a vase of yellow roses in the center of the new round table she’d placed in the center of the gathering room. Surrounded by cameras and a dozen helpers all scurrying about to put the finishing touches on the place before they opened the doors to the members for the big reveal, Charli had little time to chitchat with the little blue-haired woman. But her mile-long list wouldn’t stop her from doing so.

  With the exception of the man of few words, Charli had learned that Texans liked to talk. They were inquisitive and friendly. And when they asked questions that might make a normal person blush, Charli took them in stride. She knew they meant no harm. In fact, the entire community, with the exception of one stubborn man, made her feel very welcome.

  Ms. Potter chuckled. “Well, most folks think I’ve got one foot in the grave, but I ain’t done lookin’ yet. Just always turns out the ones that flip my petticoats are already taken. When you get to be my age, you just gotta wait till someone either passes or moves on.”

  Charli crossed the room to fluff the new front window curtains. Ms. Potter, in her button-down floral dress and squeaky orthopedic shoes, followed. “You have your eye on someone now?”

  “Naw. I’m takin’ a break,” Ms. Potter said. “Had my eye on that cute Aiden Marshall when he came back from Afghanistan, but that darned Paige Walker snatched him up before any of the rest of us got a chance.”

  Charli smiled. She’d met Aiden and Paige, both were in their early thirties and crazy in love. “So I take it you prefer younger men?”

  “I like ’em young. Or old. Long as they don’t have hair growin’ out of their ears or nose and don’t snore like the dickens.”

  “Ah. Well, that leaves at least half the population in this town.”

  “Yeah.” Ms. Potter pushed her wire-framed glasses up the bridge of her nose. “So why don’t you have a man?”

  “I had one,” Charli admitted.

  “What happened?”

  How to explain he’d been just another of her impetuous choices that had gone nowhere but heartache? Charli shrugged, then squatted to lift the curtain hem to inspect the seam. “He works in the movie industry, and—”

  “An actor?” Ms. Potter’s gray brows lifted.

  “Actually, he’s a documentary director. His job took him away for weeks and months at a time, then an opportunity to film in Africa came along and—”

  “You never got to sleep in the same bed?”

  Charli chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “You lookin’ for a man?”

  A sigh lifted Charli’s chest. Even though she hadn’t been looking, she might have found one. “Not really.”

  “Can an old woman like me give you a bit of advice?”

  “Sure.”

  “Always keep your peepers open.” She tapped her temple. “Smart women are always lookin’. Otherwise, you end up like me, old and alone and lusting after men less than half your age.”

  “What do you do if you have your eye on one, and he won’t look back?”

  “Pffft. That’s easy.” Ms. Potter gave her a wink and a shoulder wiggle. “You just turn on everything you’ve got to full volume and blind him with your amazingness.”

  “What if I don’t have any amazingness?”

  “Oh you’ve got buckets full. Just take a look around this place and what you’ve done to it. You took a shabby run-down building and turned it into something . . . well, amazing.”

  “Thank you, Ms. Potter.”

  “No need to thank me. You just get those batteries charged up. Use your secret weapon. And don’t take no for an answer.” She teetered toward the door. “I’ll be waitin’ for the reveal outside with the rest of the folks.”

  Charli watched the woman slip out the door with a pat on the back to a few of the crew and smiles for everyone. Then she turned her attention to the wall mural that had mysteriously been completed. The scene was idyllic—a distinctive Hill Country panorama with rolling hills, live oaks, tall grass, and a farmhouse with a huge windmill. Just the type of place where you wish you could escape to relax.

  “Ms. Broo—I mean, Charli?” Sarah, her assistant came up with her clipboard pressed to her chest. “Everything’s in place. The cameras are staged. Are you about ready for the reveal?”

  Charli dragged her gaze away from the mural. “Why didn’t you join everyone at Seven Devils last night?”

  Sarah pushed her glasses up her nose. “I offered to babysit Pumpkin, so you could go.”

  “Hmmm.” Charli dusted off a sparkle of glitter from the shoulder of Sarah’s plain white shirt. “From now on, you don’t babysit anyone. Pumpkin will be fine on her own. From now on, you join the rest of us.”

  “I’m not really a bar person.”

  Charli tilted her head and studied the girl. A little attention to detail, and she could be a knockout. “Have you ever been in a bar?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Well, you certainly can’t judge until you’ve experienced it, can you?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  Charli leaned in and whispered. “You know what I did last night?”

  Sarah shook her head.

  “I drank three beers, danced barefoot, and kissed a man.” Like a big fat fool.

  Sarah’s eyes widened. “You did?”

  “I did. And I lived to tell the tale.” She gave the girl a one-armed hug. “Some of us were brought up strict. Some of us are just plain shy. But you never know a shoe fits until you try it on.”

  “Are you saying I should go to bars, drink, dance, and kiss men?”

  Charli chuckled. “No. But I am saying it’s okay to broaden your horizons. You never know what you might find out there. This is Texas. We’re here for another five weeks. There’s bound to be enough fun to go around.”

  “Okay.”

  “So next time you’ll join the crowd?”

  “Okay.”

  Charli laughed. “You sure?”

  “If you think it’s a good idea.”

  “Well, I always think it’s a good idea to experience ne
w things. But other than that, don’t listen to a word I say. Because as sure as there’s an armadillo squished on some Texas highway, I will lead you in the wrong direction.”

  Sarah laughed. “You’re funny, Ms.—”

  “Ah. Ah.”

  “Charli,” she said, correcting herself. “So are you ready for the reveal?”

  Charli slid another glance to the mural. “Give me about fifteen minutes, then it’s a go. Okay?”

  “Sure. I’ll let everyone know.”

  As the last crew member slid a chair beneath the new game table and disappeared out the front door, Charli looked around at the final project and took a deep breath. Pride replaced the air in her lungs.

  Everyone had done a bang-up job. The senior center was fresh and vibrant, with pops of red and yellow and blue. It was a happy place the members could come to share a meal, enjoy some good company, and take away their worries for a while.

  Everything was perfect.

  Except for the one person missing who’d contributed immensely to the project. If he thought he was going to sit over in his dusty hardware sanctuary and miss out on all the fun, well, she’d just have to make him think again.

  “This is going to backfire on you, brother.”

  Deep within the stockroom, Reno pushed aside a recent delivery of pressed-tin ceiling tiles to be used for the candy-store redo. He looked up at Jackson, who’d pulled up a chair to watch. “What are you mumbling about over there?”

  “You—the meticulous one—haphazardly pushing aside all those boxes for the production company instead of using your usual tag-and-stack method for easy locating. One might think you had ulterior motives.”

  “They’re taking up my stockroom. I’m just trying to make room for other things.”

  “Uh-huh.” Jackson leaned back and grinned. “All the more reason to tag and stack, don’t you think?”

  “I think that you—Mr. Messy—don’t work here, so you can hardly proclaim to know what’s best.”

  “Yep.” Jackson nodded. “Going to backfire. Like a poorly packed grenade.” He made an explosion sound, then grinned.

  “Are you enjoying yourself at my expense?”

  “Don’t I always? I thought you’d be in a great mood today. Heard you made some serious bank at the pool table last night.”

  The change of subject was a relief. Reno nodded. “I did. Popped it into Mom’s savings account this morning.”

  Jackson pushed the chair away and gave Bear a rub on top of his furry head. “You’d think the yahoos at Devils would catch on to the fact that you’re one step short of a pro.”

  “I’m not going to complain. Just helps out Mom.” Reno shoved aside another case of tiles. “You want some coffee?”

  “Sure. I don’t have to be at the station until later.”

  While Jackson followed him into the front of the store, Reno pulled down two mugs from the rack above the coffeepot, filled them, and handed one to his brother. “Been a pretty mild fire year so far.”

  “Yeah, but we’re heading into August.” Jackson took a quick sip. “Things will change.”

  Coffee in hand, Reno leaned his back against the counter and crossed one ankle over the other. “I always figured you’d seen enough action in Afghanistan. Who knew you’d come home and go looking for trouble by fighting fires.”

  “You know me. I’ve always been physical, like Jared and Jake. You and Jesse got all the brains.” Jackson shrugged. “Until now, I always thought you were the smartest.”

  “Until now?”

  “Gonna backfire.”

  “Are we back to that?”

  The bell jingled, and Reno looked up as Ray Calhoun came through the door. “Howdy, boys.”

  “Mr. Calhoun,” Reno returned. “What can I do for you today?”

  “Oh. Thought I’d come in for that faucet I ordered. Hazel’s been after me to get the guest bathroom finished before the holidays.”

  “Faucet?”

  Ray looked at him a little funny. “Yeah. That brushed-nickel two-handle job. Must have ordered it about a month ago. Shoulda come in sometime last week.”

  Last week had been the peak of insanity with the arrival of the production company and their endless barrage of deliveries. Reno glanced back at the stockroom and the disarray of boxes and pallets and crap he’d kicked out of the way in his frustration. He couldn’t remember Ray’s order. More than likely, he’d shoved it in some dark corner along with the hordes of production company purchases.

  “Let me check the purchase order.” He clicked the mouse and waited for the computer monitor to warm up. For the first time, it was unlikely the spreadsheet would be any help. His misplacement of things had quickly become a catastrophe. And while he might have had a bit of conscious effort in the mayhem, it was likely he’d only set himself up for problems. “That should tell me where I stored it.”

  Jackson leaned over, made an explosion sound, then grinned.

  The bell over the door ting-a-linged again. In a state of semi panic, Reno looked up as an orange poodle trotted into the room and, with a sissified growl, jumped right on his poor, unsuspecting dog.

  “There you are.” Charli appeared in the doorway, wearing a snug pair of jeans and a soft summer blouse that looked like two handkerchiefs tied together. She turned on a smile that sent his thoughts to last night and how soft and warm her lips had been. How sweet she’d tasted. And how much sleep he’d lost.

  “Mr. Calhoun. Jackson.” She clapped her hands together like someone had given her a double scoop of ice cream. “You’re here too. It’s time for the senior-center reveal. You boys don’t want to miss out, do you?”

  Jack lifted an eyebrow. “I believe Reno here had every intention of doing just that.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous.” She crossed the store and curled her fingers around Reno’s arm as if to prevent him from escape. “Since your brother played such a big part in making the design a success, I’m sure he wouldn’t miss it for the world.” She looked up at him, batted those damn long eyelashes, and gave him a smile. “Would you?”

  Evil.

  The woman had pure evil running through her veins.

  “You did what?” Jackson lowered his coffee cup and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind.

  Indeed, he had.

  “Didn’t he tell you?” Charli said, jumping in to interfere. Again. “He painted a mural on the wall in the seniors’ dining room. I saw the one he painted for your little girl, and I begged him.”

  Reno pictured her begging for another reason entirely—one that had nothing to do with a damn wall and everything to do with—

  “Well, big brother, aren’t you just a walking contradiction.”

  “I did it for the folks,” Reno said as a poor defense.

  Jack’s gaze slid to Charli and did a quick up and down. “Uh-huh.”

  “I’m looking forward to seeing it,” Ray said.

  “He wasn’t easy to convince,” Charli added.

  Jackson hooted a laugh. “Wait till the other boys hear about this.”

  “You don’t have to share,” Reno said between gritted teeth.

  “Oh yeah. I totally do.”

  “They’ll be so proud of you.” Charli looked up at him with those damned insightful eyes. “I know that your mother is.”

  Shit. “My mom knows?”

  “Everybody knows,” she said. “You didn’t expect me to keep something like that a secret, did you?”

  Yes.

  “Just an FYI,” Jackson said. “My brother is a pretty private man. Doesn’t like to share his cereal. Doesn’t like to advertise his talents or his personal doings. Like the time when his heroics saved another soldier. He never told a soul until the day they honored him with a medal.”

  “Jack.” Reno growled out a warning, to which his brother suddenly became hard of hearing.

  “I’m not surprised,” Charli said.

  “Did you know,” Jack continued with some kind of twisted dea
th wish, “he won’t even date a woman in this town for fear they’ll be all up in his business? Although you might want to ask him sometime about the time he disappeared for two days and got too tied up to check in.”

  Ray laughed.

  “Well, that was thoughtless,” Charli told him.

  Reno flinched at the memory of his encounter with a newly assigned Deputy Ginger Baker and her handcuffs. Who knew such a small-statured woman had so many fantasies to live out?

  “Well, I’m just about as excited as a person can get to see this reveal.” Jackson headed toward the door and held out his arm, waiting for Charli to take it. “Shall we?”

  “Oh. We shall.” She flashed Reno a “See, I knew I could get him on my side” grin and joined Jackson, while her dog continued to torture his dog with a game of nip and run.

  Like dog, like owner.

  “Come on, Mr. Calhoun,” Jackson said. “Big brother.”

  Reno wondered if he was too old to short-sheet his brother’s bed. “You go on ahead without me. I’ve got work to do.”

  Charli stopped halfway out the door and came back. “Nice try, bucko.”

  When she took his arm in a death grip, Reno realized he was surrounded by bossy women and backstabbing brothers.

  Minutes later, Reno was surrounded by cameras, a production crew, his family, and members of the community, who ooohed and aaahed over the senior-center redesign and the mural he’d painted. To say he felt out of place at the reveal was an understatement. He didn’t want to be there, and he’d tried to stay in the background. The more he tried, the more Charli dragged him into the middle of things.

  “She’s amazing, isn’t she?”

  Reno turned and looked down to the little blond-haired assistant. “Who?”

  “Ms. Brooks, of course.” She gave him a timid smile. “I mean Charli. She insists I call her that, but I’m not quite used to it. Her being my boss and all.”

  “And what kind of a boss is Ms. Brooks?” he asked, looking for any tidbit of ammunition on the woman who seemed to sneak past his defenses every chance she got.