Kiss Me, Sweetheart

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Kiss Me, Sweetheart Page 8

by Codi Gary


  “I’ll have it detailed tomorrow.” He took another bite and groaned. “God, it has been a long time since I have had a doughnut. I forget how good they are.”

  “I make better ones.”

  He quirked his eyebrow at her in the dome light. “Really?”

  “Yep. Different flavors too. I make this lemon one dipped in a sugar glaze that is so good. I don’t make them often because one time I ate all of them and Asher…”

  She trailed off and he had a feeling her ex had been a dick about it.

  “I used to stress eat as a kid,” Dustin said.

  Rylie laughed. “Bullshit.”

  “No, it’s true. In elementary and the start of middle school. One time, I got this D on a test and I was so stressed about telling my dad, that I ate an entire cake I found in the refrigerator that they had bought for a party they were going to. Turns out, he was so pissed about the cake, that the D didn’t even faze him.”

  Rylie grabbed a doughnut from the box he held. “How did you get past it? Overeating, I mean.”

  “I shot up six inches the summer after eighth grade. Started running and swimming. Exercise and getting stronger became my substitute. Turns out, it’s easy to replace one addiction with another.”

  “Ha, not for me. I am allergic to running. I do like swimming though. I love dancing, too, and Marley got me into yoga. I like to try different programs, I just wish I was more consistent about it.”

  “Well, you could always go with me in the morning. I usually run five K starting at six.”

  “Eff that! I’d go one mile and collapse!” she said.

  His eyes scanned her smiling face, the oval shape and wide brown eyes. His gaze dipped a bit to her breast peeking over the top of her peach colored bridesmaid gown and he couldn’t stop the noise of appreciation from rumbling from his lips.

  “Whatever you’re doing, I think you look good.”

  Her cheeks flamed. “Thank you.”

  The car grew hotter than the coffee, and Dustin opened his door. “Bring your coffee and doughnut and let’s walk.”

  The night had cooled, signaling that fall would be there soon. Dustin popped the last bite of his doughnut into his mouth and looked around the run-down buildings. The old mining town included a saloon, a general store, a hotel, a bank, and several other buildings that had lost their identity years before. The saloon had been nearly destroyed in a fire just a month ago, and the rest of the buildings needed a lot of work. New roofs, floors, windows. But their renovation goals were to keep the town as close to its original state as possible with a few modern conveniences.

  The moon was three quarters full, and bright enough to light their way as they walked down the dirt road between the two rows of structures.

  “I am so glad my bride let us wear flats tonight,” Rylie said next to him. Her enunciation had improved, and he figured she was slowly sobering up.

  “Why did she?”

  “Because she was only four foot eleven inches and even with heels on, the rest of her bridesmaids towered over her.”

  “Yikes, that is a short woman. I’d break my neck trying to kiss her.”

  Rylie laughed. “Oh please.”

  “What?”

  “Don’t act like you don’t like short girls. Guys love that shit. It makes them feel big and powerful.”

  He shot her what he hoped was a wolfish grin and waggled his brows. “I like women of all shapes, sizes, and heights. I don’t discriminate.”

  “I’ve noticed,” she grumbled.

  “Are you jealous?” he asked, turning to walk backward so he could see her face in the moonlight.

  She scoffed forcefully. “No. I just think you could show a little discretion about who you give yourself to, is all.”

  “It’s just my body. It’s not like I fall in love with every girl I sleep with.”

  Rylie threw up her hands. “That makes it worse. You should feel something if you’re being that intimate with someone.”

  He would never understand some women’s hang-ups about sex. “Intimacy is living with someone and sharing a life with them. I don’t do that.”

  “Why not?” she asked.

  “Just not interested. I like my space and my freedom. I like not having to answer to anyone else.”

  She stepped up onto the boardwalk and hopped along the creaking wood planks. “Not all relationships are demanding or hard.”

  “Oh yeah? How many have you had that weren’t like that?”

  Her silence was his answer.

  “See? Why put yourself in a position where someone else is making you miserable?”

  Rylie stopped on the stoop of one of the unnamed buildings and swung around one of the porch beams, leaning toward him. “Real love isn’t like that. You have hard times and you have to work at it, but you’re happiest being around that person.”

  He reached out to put his hands on her waist, afraid the beam was going to collapse and take the whole building down. “All I heard was hard and work.”

  She let him lift her down back onto the dirt street. “So, what, you’re just going to be a bachelor forever? Sleeping with every woman you meet, whether she’s available or not?”

  Something about her tone rankled him and he released her to cross his arms over his chest. “You got something to say?”

  “You sleep with engaged women.”

  “I do?”

  “Sonora Star. I know you hooked up with her. Marley told me.”

  Ah, is that why her attitude toward him had changed? “And?”

  “And? It’s wrong.”

  Why was it those two little words made him feel lower than a snake? His defenses shot up, and he tried to act cool. “They’re the ones cheating. Maybe if their fiancé was keeping them satisfied, they wouldn’t come to me.”

  He couldn’t tell if her face was red, but her eyes were flashing in the moonlight. “That is a cop out! If they are that miserable, then they should break up or get a divorce. Not destroy someone who they once imagined building a life with.”

  “Maybe they aren’t ready to leave. Or they aren’t sure what they want.” Why am I even arguing with her? I’m just riling her up.

  Which was true, and it turned out her voice rose another octave the more riled she became. “It’s one thing to have fantasies but to actually cheat with another person is wrong, and if their partner in crime knows that they are attached, then they are just as bad, in my opinion.”

  It seemed on this subject, Rylie wasn’t afraid to call it how she saw it. He’d have been almost impressed if her ire and disgust weren’t directed at him.

  “Wow, how does it feel, Rylie?”

  Her head cocked to the side. “How does what feel?”

  “How does it feel to be morally perfect?”

  Now her hands were getting into it, flailing about as she said, “I don’t think I’m perfect! This is just something I feel strongly about.”

  “Yeah, I got that. But it’s not exactly your business what I do, is it?”

  She didn’t respond right away, then sighed. “You’re right. I’m sorry. It isn’t any of my business who you hook up with.”

  Dustin frowned. He didn’t like the hopeless tone in her voice when she said it, as if he was beyond redemption.

  What happened to not caring what people thought?

  The funny thing was, he kind of did care…about Rylie. About how Rylie saw and thought of him.

  Not because he wanted her, but because he liked her and valued her opinion.

  He had no idea when that had happened, but he found himself saying, “If it makes you feel better, after Sonora, I’ve taken a vow to stay away from attached women.”

  The flash of a smile was so full of joy, it was almost too bright to look at her face. “It does.”

  “Good.


  Chapter 10

  Dustin parked his car on the back side of Castle Vineyards and climbed out. Before his dad had died, he’d had no desire to ever return to this place.

  He didn’t mind it anymore though, especially since his mother had removed anything and everything that reminded her of his father.

  He couldn’t really blame her. There wasn’t a single thing about the man he could remember ever finding redeemable. He was able to fool everyone in the town of Sweetheart about what a great guy he was, but his children and wife knew he was a monster.

  Dustin took the steps up to the main house and walked inside. “Mom?”

  “In the dining room!”

  “The formal or the family?” he called.

  “The family, of course.”

  He chuckled. “Of course.”

  People who thought the house he owned now was huge had never been inside his childhood home. Eight bedrooms, two dining areas, and three living rooms plus a game room, not to mention the six bathrooms made it almost double the size of his three thousand square foot home.

  He made his way down the hallway toward the family dining room, ignoring the pictures of him and his brothers in their youth. As he stepped into the room, he found his mother sitting at the head of the table, drinking coffee and reading the Sweetheart Gazette. Her blond hair was swept back into a classic up-do, and she wore a pink dress with a white sweater.

  “Hello, Mom. How are the ins and outs of Sweetheart?”

  “Well, let’s see. Peter Lynch was pulled over for another DUI last night. Oh, and Sissy and Daniel Stewart are expecting their first child.” She snapped the paper closed and leveled him with a heavy stare. “And apparently, you have a live-in girlfriend.”

  “It’s not like that. Rylie needed a place to stay, so I am renting her my pool house. It’s strictly business.”

  “Is it?” His mother said those two words so coyly that he stiffened. “Because from what I understand, the two of you were seen late last night at the gas station on what looked suspiciously like a date.”

  “First of all, as my mother, you should really know by now that I don’t date. Secondly, I was just her designated driver. We stopped off to get coffee and I drove her back to the pool house where I left her untouched.” Dustin poured himself a cup of coffee. “Now, are you satisfied that you got the whole story?”

  His mother shot him a disgruntled glare. “I swear, I don’t know what is wrong with you and your brothers. I am not going to live forever and I would love to have at least one daughter-in-law and a few adorable grandbabies to spoil. Is that too much to ask?”

  “Well, Mom, if we’re being honest, I think that most of us realize we’ll be really shitty husbands considering the example we had.”

  She dropped her cup onto the saucer, and some of the black coffee spilled over the side.

  “That’s not funny, Dustin.”

  He paused while scooping a slice of quiche onto his plate. “I was being serious.”

  She appeared genuinely surprised. “Why would you think you were anything like your father? Not one of you would ever…” She cleared her throat and when she spoke again, it came out hoarse. “You are all good men and I expect any woman would be lucky to have you.”

  Dustin shifted in his chair, uncomfortable with her praise. He didn’t really think that marriage would turn him into an abusive prick.

  It was the settling down in general that scared the wits out of him.

  “I don’t think any of us have met a woman that makes us want to settle down.”

  “From what I know of her, your Rylie Templeton is a nice girl.”

  “She isn’t mine.”

  “Just the same, maybe you ought to take a second look at her. Finding a pretty girl is one thing, but a woman who is good and kind is another.”

  Dustin gave his mother a sour look. “Have you seen Rylie, Mom? She is gorgeous.”

  “Then you’ve got the whole package within your grasp.”

  Dustin sighed. “Is this why you invited me to brunch? To play matchmaker?”

  “No, actually. I want to get rid of your father’s boxes, but I don’t want to donate them locally. I was hoping that maybe you could drive them into Sacramento or something and drop them at the Goodwill?”

  Dustin lost his appetite. Not because he didn’t want her to get rid of his dad’s things; hell, he’d burn them if she’d let him. It was that they couldn’t seem to have one conversation where the old bastard didn’t make an appearance.

  “You know they will come pick the stuff up for you, right?”

  “I know, I just wasn’t sure if you wanted to look through it first. The other boys have, but you’ve never checked to see if there is something you might want.”

  Dustin set his fork down with a clink. “Let me be very clear. There is nothing I want from that man. I don’t need to look through boxes of shit that are just going to stir up a bunch of memories I’d rather forget. All right?”

  “Of course, Dusty, I didn’t mean—”

  “It’s Dustin. Has been for a long time.”

  The rest of their brunch was eaten in silence and he took several calming breaths. He shouldn’t have snapped at her, but asking him if he wanted anything from that son of a bitch…

  Then she’d called him Dusty. He hadn’t been Dusty since before his eleventh birthday. Not since the boy he’d been had been beaten and tortured out of him.

  You need to be a man. Stop hiding behind your mama’s skirts, you little candy ass wimp.

  Dustin wiped at his mouth and stood. “The quiche was great Mom, but I’ve got some stuff to do today.”

  He could tell she was hurt, but he couldn’t stay there another minute. He needed something to distract himself and banish the ghost of his father from his mind.

  He came around the table and kissed her cheek. “I’ll come see you again soon.”

  * * * *

  Rylie had gone to the same church her father had been taking her to since she was a little girl, and as she left, she cruelly thought it was about time that Pastor Dan retired. He was just so…boring. She’d almost fallen asleep twice during his sermon about the dangers of online dating.

  Of course, her exhaustion had nothing to do with drinking too much or the late-night walk with Dustin Kent.

  As she parked in front of the Sweetheart Cemetery, she tried not to dwell on his promise to stay away from attached women. There were plenty of single women in town for him to hook up with, and there was absolutely no innuendo that she was even in the top ten of his hook-up list.

  Not that she wanted that anyway. She was happy without a man mucking up her life.

  She got out of her car and walked across the green grass between the tombstones. When she finally reached her father’s plot, she sat down, holding a fresh bouquet in her lap.

  “Hey, Dad,” she said softly. “I know you’ve been watching everything that’s been happening, and I’m sure you’re upset, but I’m okay. Really.”

  There wasn’t a sound or a breeze that gave her some sign her dad was listening, but she knew he was there. He was always with her.

  “I’m staying in Dustin Kent’s pool house and I know what you’re thinking, but he’s really not a bad guy. I think he’s just been through a lot and learned that the only way to survive bad stuff is to be a total jerk and keep people at arm’s length. He didn’t have to help me, but he did. And that’s why I am going to give him a real chance to be my friend. No preconceived notions.”

  She picked up the dead flowers from last week and replaced them before standing. “Same time next week? I love you. Miss you, Daddy.”

  Just before she turned, she noticed the headstone next to his was starting to get overgrown and she grit her teeth. Bending over, she pulled out the obstructing plants and put them in the plastic bag she�
�d brought for garbage. When the words on the gravestone were uncovered, they read, Here lies Willow Anne Templeton. Beloved Wife and Mother.

  Rylie turned her back on the lies and headed back to her car. She wasn’t going to let this one thing ruin her day.

  An hour and five minutes later, she knocked on the back door of Sierra Animal Rescue, and waited for one of the kennel technicians to answer. Sundays were her favorite day of the week. She got up early, went to church, and then stopped by the cemetery to say hi to her dad. She changed out the flowers by his headstone, and traded in her church clothes for a pair of jeans and a T-shirt. After visiting her dad’s grave, she always needed a pick me up, which is why she went to the rescue. Spending a few hours with adorable dogs and cats always brightened her spirit.

  The door was pushed open and Tayler Gibson smiled at her. “Hey, Rylie! The dogs were just asking where their special treats were.”

  Rylie laughed and handed the basket of freshly made dog biscuits over to the other woman. “I would never disappoint the fuzzbutts.”

  They moved inside and walked down the hallway until they reached the end of the kennel area. A white tub with clear liquid sat at the edge of the concrete with a blue bleached-stained towel on the other side.

  “What’s with the tub?” Rylie asked.

  “We had a puppy come in with parvo today, so we’re just being cautious.”

  “Oh, no! Poor baby. Is he going to be okay?”

  Tayler’s lips flattened. In her late thirties, Taylor’s hair was in a crew cut, and her blue eyes were filled with shadows. Rylie didn’t know how she was still running the rescue; after some of the things Rylie had seen as a volunteer, it tore her up inside.

  “Mya took him to the vet, but he was pretty emaciated, so we’re not sure if he’s going to make it yet.” Rylie’s eyes filled with tears, and Tayler squeezed her shoulder. “I don’t want to make you sad; I know this is your happy time.”

  Rylie sniffled, wiping at her watery eyes. “Thanks. Is Raider still here?”

  At the mention of Rylie’s favorite dog, Tayler snorted. “Yes, and he’ll probably be here until you decide to take him home. I swear, that dog only tolerates the rest of us. When people try to visit with him, he just ignores them.”

 

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