by Lucy Score
“You’re a redneck douchecanoe!”
“I can’t believe we’re friends!”
I tasted blood and wasn’t sure if it was my own or if it was dripping from Cassidy’s nose.
“Okay. That’s enough of that.” Bowie’s voice was amused when he picked Cassidy up off me. That pissed us both off. Cassidy kicked him in the shin with her bare foot, and I grabbed his hair.
“Ow! Fuck! Jameson!” Bowie screeched. “Get in here!”
Jameson hauled me over his shoulder and carted me into the living room, which was filled with gawkers.
“What in the hell are you two doing?” Gibson demanded, hands on hips. “Y’all have been best friends since birth.”
“She started it,” I snapped.
“I did! Because she’s a dumbass,” Cassidy growled, still fighting Bowie’s hold on her. “Bootleg Justice!”
“Don’t make me call my lawyer,” I yelled.
There was dead silence for five whole seconds in my house, and then Cassidy and I started to laugh. And we couldn’t stop. Calling a lawyer over Bootleg Justice? It just wasn’t done. Everyone was howling now, and the human restraints were no longer necessary. I met Cassidy in the middle of the room.
“Friends again?” I offered.
“Yeah. Just maybe stop being such a dumbass.”
We hugged it out and the crowd applauded.
“Now, what are you going to do about Devlin?” Bowie asked me.
“Yeah,” the crowd demanded.
“Bring him back!” someone started chanting.
“Pepperoni roll!” someone else chanted.
I climbed up on my coffee table, surrounded by people I’d loved since kindergarten. Friends and neighbors who had been there through the deaths of my parents and were willing to stand with me now even in this mess.
“I’ll tell you what I’m gonna do! I’m gonna get a shower!”
The crowd cheered.
“And then I’m gonna drive to Annapolis!”
They cheered louder.
“And I’m gonna bring me back my man!”
They were rioting in my living room. I was picked up and carried to my bathroom on the shoulders of Freddy Sleeth and Corbin the keyboardist.
They dumped me inside and slammed the door behind me.
“Find me something conservative to wear,” I yelled to Cassidy. “I’ll show him what a politician’s girlfriend looks like!”
My reflection in the mirror over my tiny vanity caught my eye. “I can do this,” I told myself. “At least I think I can.”
I showered quickly and brushed my teeth. Cassidy shoved a dress and shoes into my hands. Once I was dressed, Opal Bodine squeezed into the bathroom and, standing on the lip of my tub, styled my hair into a chic twist. I slapped on some makeup over the fresh bruises going for a look that said boardroom, not brothel, and called it done.
I strolled out of the bathroom and struck a pose for the twenty-some people still crammed inside my house.
“What do y’all think?”
“Are your boobs tryin’ to escape?” Millie Waggle asked.
I looked down and grabbed my girls. The dress Cassidy had picked was a remnant from my short stint in 10th grade band. It turned out that I hated the clarinet, and the trumpet player I was trying to impress was more interested in one of the trombonists, if you know what I mean. I lasted for one concert, in this high-necked dress, before quitting.
“I don’t think your breasts like their incarceration,” EmmaLeigh, a homemaker and mama of four wild boys, said eyeing the flesh spilling out the sides of the dress. EmmaLeigh was nice as pie and sweet as tea. “Maybe if you wore a little wrap?”
“Here!” Buck whipped the gauzy pink cloth off of the lamp shade closest to him, and Opal wrapped it around me like a little jacket.
Cassidy stepped forward with a to-go box in her hands. “Here’s a pepperoni roll in case he tries to say no. Clarabell says good luck and bring your boy home.”
My eyes stung as I accepted the box.
“He won’t say no,” Gibson said, stepping up to take his turn. He nudged my chin up. “But if he does. You call us. And we’ll kick his ass.”
I nodded, the little gold earrings danced in my earlobes. “Are we good, Gibs?” I asked.
“We’re good.” He lifted a hand to ruffle my hair, but Opal slapped his hand away.
“We gotta fix things with Jonah,” I told him.
He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “Yeah, I know. You let us worry about that.”
I nodded, trusting him to do what needed to be done. Bowie held up my truck keys. “Gassed up and ready to go.”
“Thanks, Bow.”
“Go get your guy.”
I looked around at the people crowded in my kitchen and living room. “What if I can’t stay in Bootleg anymore? What if I have to move?”
“Then we’ll come visit you,” Bowie promised. “We’ll bring the moonshine and pepperoni rolls.”
“I’m scared about things changing,” I whispered.
“Sometimes change is better than keepin’ things the same,” he said sagely.
Jameson was next. He gave me a nod and patted me on the head. In Jameson’s world, that was the equivalent of a five-minute hug and a conversation. He handed me a brown paper bag. I peered in it and found a sandwich and a box of condoms.
“Just in case,” he said stoically.
I laughed and squared my shoulders. “See y’all. I’m gonna go get me a boyfriend!”
49
Scarlett
I was ten miles down the road hurtling toward Annapolis as fast as my pick-up would go when Cassidy called.
“Little snafu,” she said.
“What?” I asked, putting down the sandwich I’d been inhaling as I drove.
“Devlin isn’t in Annapolis.”
“Well where in the hell is he?” I demanded.
“He’s at Granny Louisa’s house.”
“The hell you say! He came back, and he didn’t even call me?”
I threw the phone on the passenger seat and executed a U-turn that put the ass end of my truck in the ditch. Gravel and mud flew, and then I was flooring it back to Bootleg.
“That son of a bitch came back without a word!” I fumed. I was gonna kill him and then tell him that I loved him so much it hurt to take a breath without him in my life. But definitely kill him first.
Devlin McCallister was going to feel the Bodine Wrath.
I fired myself up for my second fight of the night and vowed that no one would break this one up until I was declared the winner.
Judging from the cars in my driveway, the bonfire was still in full swing. I bypassed my house and pulled into Granny Louisa’s driveway behind Devlin’s SUV. There would be no escape for him.
I yanked the emergency brake and turned off the truck, leaving the keys in the ignition. Devlin had come back and hadn’t called or texted or showed up naked and begging on my front porch? He was a dead man.
I went around back because that’s how sneak attacks worked. I was no Johanna ringing the doorbell proper as can be. Oh, hell no. I fought dirty and played mean. I kicked off my heels and jogged up the deck stairs that I’d refinished just a few weeks earlier. At least I didn’t have to worry about splinters before extracting my justice all over his ball sack.
The lights were on, and I deducted even more points from Devlin after noticing he wasn’t on the deck pining over me. He deserved a kick in the balls. Dang it. I should have left my shoes on. They were pointy.
I had a full head of steam behind me that nearly carried me through the screen door before I realized it wasn’t Devlin sitting in the wingback chair with his feet up. It was Granny Louisa.
“Thank you again for riding to my rescue, Devlin honey,” she said.
I glared imaginary lasers at the man who adjusted her footstool. He didn’t look emaciated and depressed. He just looked stupidly handsome.
Maybe if I messed his face up
a little, he wouldn’t be so beautiful?
“I’m glad you called, Gran. But I can’t stay. Mom’s driving in tomorrow morning to help you and Estelle.”
Estelle, a svelte black woman with silver hair and a hallelujah voice, poked her head into the living room. She held a cast iron fry pan in her hand. “I don’t know why y’all are treating us like we’re two old ladies,” she announced.
“Well, one of you fell out of a gondola in Venice and broke her foot,” Devlin said dryly.
“Hush up, Estelle,” Granny Louisa said, waving at her girlfriend. Devlin appeared to miss the wink she sent her partner, but I caught it just fine. Granny Louisa was up to no good.
“Now, boy of mine, why are you in such a rush to go back to something that makes you so miserable?”
My ass perked up at that. Miserable was good. Very good.
“I’m not miserable,” that asshole said. “I have a responsibility—”
Granny Louisa interrupted him by making a prolonged fart noise with her mouth. “Do you love the girl or not?”
My feet were frozen to the spot. I couldn’t have moved if I tried.
Devlin, the potential asshole, flopped down into the chair across from Granny Louisa. His broody expression didn’t give me the words I longed to hear.
“You’ve spent fifty minutes of every hour since you got here moping on the deck and staring through the woods in her direction. Do. You. Love. Her?”
“She didn’t trust me. She didn’t ask me to stay. And now she’s throwing a party.”
“That doesn’t mean you don’t love her and she doesn’t love you. It means y’all are young and dumb.”
I saw it then. The pain of my heart was plastered across Devlin’s sexy AF face. He hurt for me. He missed me. He loved me.
Like hell was I going to let him say it first. I wanted that honor… and the ability to throw it in his face for the rest of our lives.
In my haste to shout the words first, I forgot about the screen door that I’d replaced after my brothers wrecked it. I half dove, half tripped through it, yanking it from its tracks and sending it crashing to the living room floor. It rattled against the hardwood, crumpled and mangled just like my heart.
Devlin came out of his chair looking shocked and maybe the slightest bit scared.
“I love you,” I shouted.
Granny Louisa looked a little surprised. Estelle reappeared and gaped at the evidence of my spectacular entrance.
“Speak up, honey. I don’t think he heard you,” Estelle insisted.
I opened my mouth to make my proclamation again, but Devlin held up a hand. “I think we all heard Scarlett,” he said dryly. His gaze scanned my face, and I saw his Adam’s apple work in his throat.
Granny Louisa bent down and ripped open the Velcro on her boot. She kicked it off and hopped to her feet, spry as a forty-year-old. “Our work here is done, Estelle. Why don’t we meander on over to The Lookout for a round of mystic moonshines?”
Estelle tossed her dish towel on the floor. “Sounds good to me. I’ll get my drinkin’ pants on.”
They hustled out of the room, leaving me and Devlin to stare at each other.
“You broke Gran’s door,” he said quietly.
“I also announced that I’m in love with you,” I pointed out just in case he’d missed the announcement.
“See y’all later,” Granny Louisa said as she and Estelle giggled their way out the front door.
Silence reigned. I could hear my heart thumping away in my chest. Devlin stalked toward me and didn’t stop until he had his hands on my hips. He leaned in, and I thought I just might embarrass myself by passing out on the man. My body had missed him like sun… or beer. I’d been kidding myself to think I could just walk away from him and be fine.
I was anything but fine.
“One more time,” he whispered, his thumb brushing my lower lip, and I felt the touch in every nerve ending in my body.
“I, Scarlett Rose Bodine, love you, Devlin Brooks McCallister. And you’re a fucking idiot if you think I’m letting you leave again without me.”
“You dumped me, remember?”
“I didn’t say you were the only idiot,” I argued.
“You were an idiot,” he agreed. “And I left without telling you how I feel,” he said, tugging me close enough that every inch of me was touching him.
“And how exactly do you feel?” I asked him.
“Like without you I’d spend my whole life knowing I was missing out on something special. Like I walked away from the only woman I ever loved because I’m an idiot.”
“Keep talkin’,” I prodded.
“I went home to that sterile condo. I attended half a dozen luncheons and ribbon cuttings and fundraisers. It sucked. You’re the color and music and flavor in my day. And life without you isn’t worth crawling out of bed for. I want you, Scarlett. I love you, and you better get that through your thick Bodine head.”
My breath was shaky on the inhale and got stuck in my throat. “What do we do about it?”
“I have some ideas,” he said, a slow smile curving the corners of his mouth.
“I think that sounds right nice,” I breathed. “But do we need to talk about your grandmother faking an injury to lure you back to town?”
“Do we need to talk about why you didn’t tell me about Callie’s sweater?”
“Do we need to talk about the cluster your life’s about to become if you start datin’ a girl in the middle of a murder investigation?”
“Do we need to talk about why you didn’t even give me the choice to stay or go?”
I bit my lip. Yeah, we had a lot to talk about. And maybe even some apologizing to do, which I wasn’t excited about at all.
“Why don’t we leave that all for later? It’ll keep, won’t it?”
“It’ll keep,” he agreed.
The thump of music next door echoed, and Devlin shook his head. “Just like the first night I met you.”
“Not quite,” I said, reaching into my hair and yanking the pins free. I let my hair tumble down my back and grabbed him by the hand. “C’mon.”
We ran through the night, navigating the skinny trail through the woods. When we came out on the other side, the crowd cheered.
“I found myself a man, y’all!” I shouted.
Devlin tossed me over his shoulder and jogged to Buck’s pick-up by the fire. He put me down feet first on the tailgate. “Someone get the lady a beer,” he called.
Someone shoved a beer into my hand. I leaned forward and pulled Devlin up next to me in the bed of the truck.
“Ladies and gentlemen,” I said. “I dedicate this to all of y’all.”
Devlin raised a beer as well. I saw my brothers in the crowd raising their drinks. Jonah stood between Bowie and Jameson. He tipped his beer in my direction.
Devlin and I clinked cans, and on the count of three, we started to chug.
50
Scarlett
Hours later, Devlin and I were slow dancing in my backyard, the party still going strong around us. “Sorry about Granny Louisa’s sliding door,” I said.
“Excuse me. Did you just apologize?” Devlin asked feigning shock.
“I figured I’d start with one of the smaller things and work my way up.”
“Easing into it,” he teased.
“There’s a lot we’re gonna have to talk about, Dev. Half the town thinks my daddy did it. When news breaks about that sweater, nothing’s gonna be the same. The media will be breathing down our necks.” I needed him to know the risks. To understand them. And then still pick me.
“You know, it’s a good thing your boyfriend is an attorney. It’s even better that he’s been thinking about opening up his own practice in West Virginia.”
I gasped. “Are you serious? Won’t your parents hate your guts?”
“They are currently bitterly disappointed.”
“You already told them?”
“Scarlett, I went back, b
ut part of me never left here. You’re what I want. God help me, but Bootleg is what I want.”
“I need to show you something,” I announced.
“Is it under that dress?”
He wasn’t exactly excited when I pulled him away from my house and bed and headed for my truck instead. But I had one hell of an idea, and I didn’t want to lose it in a cloud of lust.
“It’s worth the wait. I promise.”
Devlin held my free hand as I floored it toward our destination. There was only one thing I wanted more than to get him naked and under me. And it was important.
I turned onto the bumping lane and stopped by the peeling For Sale sign. The fields stretched out, bright under the nearly full moon. The tree line whispered quietly in the light breeze that stirred up. I could just make out the sparkle of lake water beyond.
I patted the For Sale sign. “What do you say, Dev? Build a life with me here? You can open your practice or do something else. Teach yoga, sell nuts and bolts, keep my books. I’ve got some money saved, and I can do some of the work myself. I’m thinking four bedrooms and one of those big soaker tubs in a window facing the lake.”
I could feel him practically vibrating next to me, and I wasn’t sure if it was the physical need to strip me down and make me come or if it was the plan I was laying out.
“We can build a house, a life, a family. And someday, when the kids are being obnoxious, we’ll tell them how it all started right here on the tailgate of my truck.”
His mouth lifted. “Why Scarlett Bodine, are you proposing marriage?” he teased.
I wrinkled my nose at him. “Not yet. I promised Mama not ‘til thirty, and a Bodine doesn’t—”
“Break promises,” Devlin filled in, reeling me into him.
“I want this with you, Dev. I want a big house and wild kids and bonfires.”
“I want to give you anything and everything you want,” he reminded me.
“Is that a yes?”
“Honey, that’s a hell yes.” He kissed me hard under the moon on the land we’d buy together. “Why are you wearing this, by the way?”
He’d pulled back and was studying my dress. “I was planning to impress you with my chameleon-like ability to blend in when I crashed your place in Annapolis. Because I came to my senses first.”