Reece

by Lori Wilde

  Then he’d mumbled an apology and left her standing there, gaping after him as he’d let himself out. Men could be such jerks sometimes.

  No, she was the jerk. The last thing Reece needed was a dingbat such as herself to mess up his calm and orderly life. The man was obviously family material. He didn’t strike her as the type to dally with a woman and then go on his merry way. So, why then, did he kiss and run?

  Maybe her weirdness was rubbing off on him.

  Lanie groaned and sank deeper into the bubbles. All her life she’d hoped she would outgrow her wackiness, and now she was bringing others down with her. She rinsed off and stepped out of the tub. She briskly toweled herself dry, but she couldn’t rub away the memory of Reece’s gentle touch.

  After donning a red cotton nightshirt, she made a quick check to see that the doors were locked. The binoculars lay on the coffee table where she’d left them earlier. Lanie picked them up and took them to her bedroom to put them away.

  Winnie was sprawled across the double bed. Little horsey snores could be heard above the crickets’ chirping. With the binoculars still in her hand, Lanie moved to the window to close the blinds, when a movement in Reece’s room caught her eye. Impulsively, she lifted the glasses to her eyes.

  He was taking off his shirt! With a pang, she remembered the hard feel of his chest when he’d held her in his arms to kiss her. Lanie adjusted the focus and took in the dark curls that circled his nipples and tapered down into his corduroy shorts.

  His hands reached for the zipper, and in a second, the shorts were lying in a heap on the floor. Reece stretched and lazily scratched his bare side with slow, circular motions.

  Lanie lowered the glasses and wiped the fog off the eyepieces. If he took off one more article of clothing, she might be tempted to leap the fence that separated their properties and break down his front door. She picked up the phone from the nightstand and dialed Reece’s number. She had to save him from herself.

  His hand was already on the waistband of his boxers when his head jerked toward the table by his bed. He sat on the bed, his back to the window, and picked up the receiver.

  “Hello.”

  Lanie’s mouth flapped a couple of times, but nothing came out. How do you tell your boss you’re drooling over his body?

  “Hello! Who is this?”

  “Um, hi.” Then it took over. The imp that had plagued her all her life now possessed her, and Lanie’s lips turned up in wicked amusement. “Could you stand closer to the window? I can’t see the good stuff.”

  Reece darted a glance over his shoulder. Without a word, he stood and walked to the window.

  Lanie couldn’t believe her eyes. He was actually doing it! She raised the glasses and peered through them, ostensibly to read the expression on his face, but she couldn’t help letting her gaze wander from his crooked smile to his muscle-rounded shoulders, well-defined pectorals, and washboard stomach.

  She couldn’t stand here and peep at him like some pervert. She was about to lower the binoculars for the final time when Reece reached up and pulled the shade. His silhouette bent and removed the one remaining garment.

  Good grief. That shadowy movement probably did more to fuel her wayward thoughts than if she’d actually seen him take off that remaining article of clothing. Lanie replaced the receiver on the hook and gave a second thought to a nice, cold shower.

  If Reece had seemed sexy and desirable Friday night, that image was now replaced with one of grim determination … and maybe a little bit of smugness.

  Lanie folded her hands in her lap and looked around the public meeting room at the elbow-to-elbow crowd. Well, she could be smug, too. The turnout wouldn’t have been anywhere near as large if she hadn’t enlisted other highway opponents to help call more than half the homes in Bliss. If bodies counted for anything, then her side would win hands down.

  Reece was talking animatedly with a representative from the highway department. He watched while the other man traced a finger along the large stand-up map display. Reece nodded a couple of times, looking as serious as if the whole decision rested on his shoulders alone.

  The chairman of the Board of Supervisors went to his seat on the raised platform at the front of the room and tapped the microphone. Those still standing quickly took their seats on the hard, wooden benches.

  After more than a week of passing out fliers, telephoning strangers, and debating the highway issue with anyone who would listen, Lanie was glad it would soon be decided. She fumbled in her purse for her lucky rock and rubbed the polished surface between her thumb and the crook of her forefinger. Rock, don’t fail me now.

  The other board members settled into their seats, and the floor opened for discussion of a proposed dirt-bike raceway at the outer edge of the county.

  That matter quickly disposed of, the podium was turned over to the highway representative who droned on for a while about the cost, on ramps and exits, and the number of families who’d be displaced.

  Occasionally Lanie found that her eyes strayed to Reece, who sat erect and alert at the front of the room. In contrast to the graying and balding men on either side and behind him, his hair shone goldish yellow under the artificial lights.

  Like his seatmates, Reece wore a coat and tie. About halfway into the presentation, he removed his navy blazer and tugged at his shirt collar. Lanie almost expected him to unbutton his cuffs and roll up the white sleeves. It would have seemed more natural than the way he looked now, biceps and broad shoulders straining at the cotton fabric. Lanie pulled her eyes away from the sight and worried the rock some more.

  “Fine,” said the chairman once the presentation was finished. “Then, if no one has any further discussion, we’ll table the matter until next month’s meeting. By then we should have a more definite figure on the cost.”

  What? Table the matter? Lanie jumped to her feet. “Wait a minute! I have a question. What about the vote?”

  “Please identify yourself.”

  Lanie grew uncomfortably warm under the scrutiny of all those pairs of eyes. But now was not the time to let a little stage fright hold her back. She took a deep breath.

  “Elaine Weatherford. I live in the Hancock District. What I want to know is, what happened to the vote that was supposed to be taken tonight?”

  Chairman Morrison rammed a finger into his hairy ear and twirled it. “What vote?” He turned to the man beside him. “We didn’t advertise a vote, did we, Harley?”

  Harley said no, and then Reece stood up. “Reece Masardi, Hancock District. To my knowledge, Mr. Morrison, head counts are irrelevant in matters like this. In the past, the Board of Supervisors has required signed petitions from a percentage of registered voters in Bliss.”

  He turned so that he could address the rest of the assembly as well. His gaze briefly caught Lanie’s.

  “In order to save time,” he continued, “I move that we authorize an environmental impact study to begin immediately.”

  A woman at the back of the room said, “Seconded.”

  Lanie felt like throwing her rock at him. “He can’t move while I still have the floor!”

  “Anybody disagree with Mr. Masardi’s suggestion?” said Mr. Morrison.

  Still standing, Lanie shot her hand up. “I do.” A scattering of others raised their hands.

  “All in favor?”

  Half the people in the room responded with a show of hands. It was a far cry more than had opposed it. What had happened to all her supporters?

  “So passed.”

  “That’s not fair! I had the floor!”

  Evelyn, the woman sitting beside her, pulled Lanie’s sleeve until she sat back down. “We do things kind of casually around here,” she whispered. “But don’t you worry none about that study. It’ll take months for them to finish it, so we’ll have plenty of time to get those petitions signed.”

  Lanie was so angry she could have spit nails. She wanted to lash out at someone, but Evelyn didn’t deserve her wrath. Evelyn
had spent many hours on the phone and even used part of her grocery money to hire a sitter for her six kids so she could be here tonight. As folks started filing from the room, Lanie thanked the woman for her help, and they discussed strategy for the next step.

  After they’d said their goodbyes, Lanie took out her key ring and held it in her fist with the keys protruding between her fingers.

  The parking lot was well lit, and her car could be seen from the road, but old habits die hard. From the looks of people standing by their cars and chatting with old friends, they could have just come from a family reunion.

  Lanie had reached her car and was pushing the key into the lock when a voice behind her startled her.

  “I was hoping I’d see you before—”

  On reflex, Lanie jerked the keys out and spun around to face her assailant. Wielding the ignition key like a knife, she stared up into the black shadow of her intruder’s face.

  “—you left.” He slowly ran a hand down one side of his jaw and up the other, then repeated the gesture in reverse. “I realize we’re on different sides of the fence as far as the highway goes, but let’s keep our fight in the public meeting room where it belongs. Okay?”

  Lanie relaxed from her coiled position. With a sigh, she let the keys dangle loosely from her fingers. “I thought you were a demented attacker.”

  Reece laughed. “Sorry to disappoint you. I just wanted to make sure you’re coming to work tomorrow.”

  “Tomorrow’s Friday—why wouldn’t I be?”

  Reece turned and half sat, half leaned against the front fender of her small car. The lamp’s yellow glow cast a shadow across his face, making the outline of his nose more pronounced, his hawk-like eyebrows more prominent. When he leaned back and rested his hands on the hood, his blazer gaped open, and the buttons on his shirt strained against the holes.

  “After tonight, I wasn’t sure you’d want to,” he said.

  “I wanted to hit you over the head with that map display. Why didn’t you tell me we needed to get petitions signed?”

  Even in the eerie yellow glow of the lamplight, Lanie could see his crooked smile.

  “I would’ve if you’d asked.”

  She jammed the key into the lock and turned it. “How kind of you. Why don’t you just go home and laugh about how you made a fool of me in front of all those people!”

  Lanie threw her purse over to the passenger seat and slid behind the wheel. She was about to slam the door shut, but Reece had gotten up and was holding it open. He insinuated his body between the door and the car.

  Though he had embarrassed her and was now holding her and her car captive, she refused to cry in front of him. Lanie tugged again on the door, but he wouldn’t budge. “Is there a reason you’re harassing me?” she asked.

  “Are you always so defensive?”

  Lanie had to turn sideways in the bucket seat and look up to meet his gaze. He definitely had the power position here. “Look, it’s late. I have to go home before Winnie trashes the house.”

  She could tell by the way he hesitated and squared his mouth that he was dying to say something about her keeping the horse inside. But he didn’t. She gave him credit for knowing enough to keep silent about it.

  “I didn’t come over here to gloat about what happened tonight,” he said. “I just wanted to ask how the paperwork’s coming.”

  “The paperwork?” She’d only found out tonight that she needed to start getting signatures on the petitions. So far, the only paperwork she’d done was the flier he’d fussed at her for putting in customers’ sacks.

  “Yeah. How’s it coming with the billing and ordering? You know … paperwork.”

  “Oh, that paperwork.” How did this man have the power to rattle her cage so? “Between Dot and me, we got it all caught up this week.”

  “Good, then you’ll need to wear jeans and sneakers tomorrow. You’re going with me to make deliveries.”

  Lanie thought back to the conversation she’d overheard last week when Reece had told his mother his plans to take her to the farms with him.

  She wondered if that had anything to do with Dot’s insistence on helping get the work completely caught up. If she and Reece had been a more likely pair, she might suspect Dot of matchmaking.

  Then she remembered that it was Dot who had suggested Reece ask her to the banquet. Perhaps the dear old lady was sneakier than those innocent blue eyes might lead one to believe.

  But the very thought of Lanie and Reece becoming romantically involved was ridiculous. Even Reece thought so. Hadn’t he adamantly rejected his mother’s suggestion?

  The warmth that crept up her neck and flooded her cheeks had nothing to do with the dog-day heat of early August. Lanie suddenly realized Reece was waiting for a response.

  “Uh, okay, I’ll wear jeans tomorrow.”

  “Great.”

  Lanie reached for the door handle, but he wouldn’t move. He was acting like the dates who’d lingered at her door, trying to finagle a good-night kiss. Please, no. Not now, not here. Not so close to bedtime when she’d surely replay it in her dreams all night.

  “Is … is there something else?”

  “Yeah, um…”

  He hesitated, then leaned a little closer. Lanie braced herself, helplessly anticipating a kiss that would knock her stockings off.

  Like their first kiss almost a week ago … the kiss that had haunted her, invading her thoughts until it seemed that every time she was around Reece, she acted like a graceless imbecile.

  “…about that dinner you’re inviting my mom and Walter to…” Reece rubbed his knuckles across the little indentation in his chin. “How’s Sunday at two o’clock?”

  Lanie sighed.

  Fortunately, Reece mistook it for reluctance rather than remorse over a missed opportunity. “Look, you don’t have to—”

  “No, I’d … love to have your mother and Walter over on Sunday. And you, too, of course.”

  Her thoughts flitted through the preparations she’d have to make. She must be insane to expect people to eat her cooking. Maybe Etta would cater it. No, that wouldn’t do. Dot said she overseasoned everything. Then inspiration struck.

  “Do you suppose they’d like spaghetti and salad?” That should be fairly simple, even for a kitchen klutz such as herself.

  “Sure, sounds great.”

  Maybe not great. She’d settle for edible.

  7

  As soon as Lanie and Winnie set foot in the store the next morning, her knee-high horse took off on her daily cat chase.

  “Heads up, everybody!” Lanie called out.

  The cat seemed to love this morning ritual. Lanie could anticipate what would happen next. After circling a display row twice—maybe three times if he was extra frisky—the cat would leap to the top of a pile of grain sacks. Then he would arch his back and hiss at the horse.

  Both animals were true to form this morning. Unbothered by the cat’s theatrics, Winnie nudged his side with her nose. The filly kept pushing until the cat hung sideways from his perch with his claws firmly imbedded in the thick paper bag.

  Lanie laughed at the unlikely friends and went looking for Reece.

  She found him out back with Howard, loading bales of straw and sacks of oats into the back of Reece’s pickup. From up close, the battered vehicle looked more faded red than pink. The tailgate was missing, and an array of dents and rust spots decorated the sides of the ancient machine.

  One look at Howard showed he had no business lifting the heavy sacks. The older man pulled a red-checkered handkerchief from his overalls and mopped the sweat off his equally red face.

  “Howard, Violet’s looking for you,” Lanie lied.

  “All right, I’ll be there in a minute.” He bent to lift another sack.

  “She said she needs you now.” Lanie crossed her fingers behind her back.

  Howard shuffled back into the shop, muttering something about “dadgum women,” and Lanie picked up the sack he’d dropped. I
t was about as heavy as Winnie but more cumbersome since it had no belly for her to slip her arms under.

  Reece scowled for a moment. “Maybe I’d better go see what Violet wants.”

  “No, don’t!” Lanie heaved the sack into the truck and turned toward Reece. “I, uh, was hoping that by the time he found out Violet didn’t ask for him, we would’ve finished loading the truck.”

  He frowned at her for a long moment. She wasn’t sure whether it was from annoyance or the sun. Great. Now he’s adding “liar” to the list of descriptions he has for me. Reece lifted another sack and easily tossed it into the truck.

  “Thanks,” he said. “Howard wouldn’t listen to me.”

  They finished loading the truck in silence. When they were done, Lanie’s jeans—the ones with the cute little design on the hip pocket—were covered with dust and straw. Her red canvas sneakers were no better. Lanie adjusted the scarf that held her hair off her neck.

  Reece tossed her the keys. “You drive, I’ll navigate. May as well learn your way around the county.”

  Her prayers had been answered. When he’d first mentioned the idea of her coming along with him on deliveries, she’d feared that a scenic drive in the countryside would stir up the romantic thoughts she’d fought to suppress. With her mind on driving and her eyes on the road, she’d have little opportunity for such daydreams.

  Cursing her peripheral vision for allowing her tantalizing glimpses of his muscular legs, she shoved the key into the ignition. “Where’s the perndle indicator?”

  “The what?”

  “Perndl. You know … that gizmo over the steering wheel.” He stared at her in incomprehension, so she spelled it out for him. “P.R.N.D.L. Park, reverse, neutral, drive, low. Perndle.”

  “Oh, that.” He rested his arm along the back of the bench seat, and Lanie was acutely aware of the closeness of his fingers. “It doesn’t have one. It’s a manual transmission.”

  “Good grief. I guess that explains the three pedals on the floor.”

  Reece slumped back in the seat and stared straight up. He rubbed the back of one clenched fist across his forehead. “Don’t tell me. You don’t know how to drive a straight shift.”