Moonshine & Magnolias

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Moonshine & Magnolias Page 4

by Jamie Farrell


  Zack nudged her, his bare elbow against hers, and the contact sent a shiver up her arm.

  “Dog’s fed, kids aren’t here. Let’s go drive.”

  She tried to cross her arms and instead ended up wincing at the itching under her skin. “Why would you want to do that?”

  “Never done it before.”

  “Driven with nowhere to go?”

  “Driven with you with nowhere to go.” He grinned at her again, but this time, instead of noticing the spark of fun in those bright blue eyes, she noticed the crinkles at the corners. One or two errant silver strands mixed into his short dark hair. The subtle lines beginning in his forehead.

  Zack Montgomery was more than she’d given him credit for. She had the military wife training, even if she didn’t formally have the right to wear the cape anymore. But he still owned the right to wear his uniform. He had the military experience. She guessed he was a couple years older than her twenty-nine. If he’d enlisted at eighteen, he likely had twice as much time in the military as she’d had as a wife.

  And she was about to let him drive her somewhere.

  As far as adventures went, this was a small one, but given her circumstances, it was the only option she had. Cautiously, she dangled the keys out for him and tilted her head at the vehicle. “The van does a good donut, but I’ve already mastered that, so don’t even think about it.” She tapped her cast. “And this puppy might be new, but I’m a quick learner when it comes to weapons of male destruction.”

  His grin went wider. “You keep talking tough, One-Two-Shelby, but I think you’re more softie than you are ballbuster.”

  One-Two-Shelby? Oh, that man was fixin’ to get a bruising. “You keep on talking sweet, Sergeant Dumdum Head, and I’m gonna think—”

  “Aw, now, don’t think. Ruins everything when you girls do that.”

  And while she sputtered, he took her by the shoulders and steered her around the van and boosted her up into the passenger seat while hot air spilled out around them. And when she started to argue about his strapping her in, his gaze shifted from her eyes to her lips, and Shelby quit thinking.

  She quit moving.

  She quit breathing.

  But she didn’t stop wishing. And right now, she was wishing she could be the kind of girl who would kiss a guy like Zack Montgomery and not live to regret it in the morning.

  Zack tugged her seat belt. “There you go. Safe and sound.”

  “Oh, honey, anything but,” Shelby said.

  That easy grin of his didn’t pop out. Instead, his bright blue eyes searched her face, serious, mature, and interested.

  Her belly flipped over on itself.

  His grin did come then, as if he could see her pulse careening out of control, as if he could feel the pressure building between her thighs, as if he could smell the bloody battle between fear and intrigue waging in her gut.

  “Where shall we venture first?” he said.

  Shelby closed her eyes. She blew out a shaky breath. And then she made up her mind. “Surprise me.”

  Chapter 6

  Ice cream was always good for a first date. But this wasn’t a first date.

  Not any kind of first date Zack had ever been on, anyway. Because there was usually a purpose to a date, but Zack didn’t have any romantic intentions or desire to have sex with Shelby.

  Correction.

  He didn’t want to have any romantic intentions with Shelby. Nor did he want to admit to wanting to have sex with her.

  But all her sass and that accent of hers intrigued him. He liked women. He dated when the situation was right. And he’d never met a woman quite like One-Two-Shelby.

  So he pointed the van toward the Summer Sweet Dairy Barn for ice cream. “You from here originally?” he asked while the van’s air conditioner battled the summer afternoon. He knew she was—Miss Mitzi had told him so—but he figured it was a safe topic.

  Shelby eyed him. “Nope, they taught me to talk like this in finishing school in Britain.”

  “You call it finishing school? Well, bless your heart,” Zack said.

  She squeaked—adorable sound, that, partly because it didn’t involve her mouth forming any words—and Zack grinned.

  But Shelby wasn’t one to be kept quiet long. “Your momma teach you to talk like that?”

  “Nah. Back in Illinois, we’re pretty straightforward. But if Uncle Sam wants me to live in the boonies, I reckon I might could learn to talk like I done grown up in the boonies.”

  “Oh, honey, bless your heart,” she murmured.

  Zack laughed. And he caught a hint of a smile on those pink lips of hers too. Like she may be warming up to having a bit of fun. “You have any family close by?” he asked.

  “Just little ol’ me,” she said. “My momma never got to meet Hailey, and my daddy passed on right after Braden was born. And now I’m raising my babies in the house I grew up in.”

  “No brothers or sisters?”

  “Nope. A few cousins here and there, but otherwise, just me and my friends. Your turn, Sergeant Nosy Pants. What are your kinfolk like?”

  “Big and loud.” He stopped at a red light and glanced over at her. She was watching him with those hazel soul-suckers, her lips half-pursed as though she wasn’t sure if she wanted to relax and go with it, or demand that he let her out of her own car so she could walk back home. “I’m the youngest of four, and I have nine nieces and nephews, seven aunts and uncles, and sixteen cousins.”

  “They all married?”

  “Or divorced,” he said with a nod. “Except the under-twenty-two crowd.”

  “Hmm.” Her eyes narrowed and her head tilted, but not before her eyes darted to his hands.

  Zack could sniff the Why aren’t you married? question coming from two states away, and he had no doubt it was scrolling through Shelby’s head right now. He chuckled and shook his head. “Don’t ask if you don’t want it asked back,” he said.

  She didn’t.

  Instead, she asked about where he’d lived, how long he’d been in, and about his driving record. And he asked her the same, right down to coaxing an admission of hitting a parked car at the Piggly Wiggly in February.

  He bought them both ice cream cones, but instead of eating at the Dairy Barn, they took the cones to go. Shelby casually mentioned that her team was practicing out at the softball fields at James Robert College, so even though Zack had thought about taking her driving through the country to check out the peach and pecan trees, he took her to softball practice.

  He got the feeling she wasn’t used to asking for anything. Her marriage wasn’t his business, but it bothered him to think she didn’t come out and ask because she was used to being told no.

  “Are you this nice to all the neighbors?” she asked once they were back on the road, heading toward the college at the very edge of town.

  “Nope. Are you this prickly to all the neighbors?”

  She slid him a side-glance.

  He grinned at her. “You were the girl in junior high who punched the boys you liked, weren’t you?”

  Her nose went up, but the pink came back in her cheeks. “Ladies don’t hit,” she sniffed. “I put frogs in their lunchboxes, thank you very much.”

  “So I should keep my back door locked and inspect my fridge for moldy socks?”

  “You can be Sergeant Sexy Pants all you want, but we’re just neighbors,” she said.

  “You can be my neighbor all you want, but you’re still a MILF.”

  Her gasp echoed in the car. “Did you just call me a…” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “A mother I’d like to fu—you know.”

  He smiled to himself. So she did know he’d propositioned her. There was some fun in one-upping Ms. Sassy Pants. Pulling her out of that rigid, straight-laced, I-don’t-want-to-like-you mindset for a minute.

  Zack had a feeling there was one hell of a woman under all that responsibility. “I do believe I did, Miss Shelby. And I meant every letter. Twice. Three times on Sundays
.”

  She choked on her ice cream.

  “You okay there?” he asked. “I know CPR. And the Heimlich. And the Montgomery.”

  She maneuvered her ice cream into the cup holder between the seats and pounded on her chest. He pulled into a parking lot, guilt making another rare appearance. “Shelby?”

  Her face was bright red, and her breathing was wheezy, but her eyes were sharp and dangerous. “The Montgomery?” she sputtered when she could talk again.

  Zack winked at her. “Trademarked that one myself. Involves both chocolate and caramel sauce. But we have to be naked.”

  Her jaw dropped, and he saw the pink cast swing his way as if he was about to take a hit to the gut. He braced himself against the door—his sisters would’ve said he deserved to get his ass kicked, and he couldn’t honestly disagree. But suddenly, Shelby dropped her arm. Then she dropped her head into her good hand, and she barked.

  Not like a dog, not like a seal.

  But like a woman rediscovering her laugh.

  He’d never heard her laugh. He’d heard her count to two countless times, he’d heard her call for her kids and the dog, he’d heard her muttering to herself, but he’d never heard her laugh.

  The bark turned into a full peal of laughter.

  Her eyes lit up, her chin tipped back, those lips parted, and a sound sweeter than angels singing poured from her mouth.

  She had her hand to the pale skin on her throat, her chest rising and falling beneath her blue tank top, a shaft of summer sun putting sparks of light into her brown hair.

  Zack had seen the sun rise over the Rockies. He’d seen night fall in Paris. He’d parasailed over the Gulf of Mexico and been served mojitos by pretty girls in the Bahamas.

  But watching Shelby laugh was like discovering a secret magical cove—ordinary and rocky on the outside, lit up and glowing on the inside.

  Her laughter slowed to lighthearted giggles. “Lord love a latte, you are a handful.”

  A flyaway wisp of wavy brown hair had escaped her hair clip. He reached for it and tucked it behind her ear, letting his thumb slide over the softness of her ear lobe. Her giggle faded into silence, and the wariness came back into her bright eyes.

  “Must be hard getting your hair up.” His voice was husky in his own ears.

  Shelby’s eyes went from a golden hazel to a rich, dark honey. “I manage.”

  He needed to put his hand down. Put the car back in gear. Head back out to the softball field.

  Instead, he traced her jawline, watching the contrast of his rough hands against her porcelain skin. Her pulse fluttered visibly, faster and faster, in that delicate hollow on her neck. “You’re a strong woman,” he said.

  “I manage,” she repeated.

  “Always admired that.”

  “As you should.”

  Her sass had fled, and a vulnerable wobble colored her words. Her lips were silently calling to him. Touch me. Tease me. Taste me.

  And he did.

  He brushed his thumb over her lower lip, pink and ripe and cool. Her skin quivered under his touch, and she sucked in a soft breath.

  He hadn’t meant it Monday when he threatened to kiss her. But right now, he couldn’t imagine not kissing her. “I should’ve mentioned,” he murmured, “I can’t resist a woman with a good laugh.”

  Her breath came back out, hot on his skin. “I was laughing at you.”

  “So now I know how to make it happen again,” he said.

  And before his brain decided to kick in and talk him out of it, he closed the distance between them and traded his thumb for his lips on hers.

  She sucked in another breath, but she didn’t pull back, didn’t push him away.

  So he sucked her lip into his mouth.

  A low groan rumbled in her throat, but when Zack would’ve pulled back, Shelby clamped a hand at the back of his head and held him there. Her tongue slid along his upper lip, and all rational thought fled.

  He had to kiss her. More. Harder. Deeper.

  She angled her head and pushed closer to him, parted her lips, invited him in. The taste of ice cream on her tongue sent his blood surging to his groin, and her tongue in his mouth, eager and hungry and unrestrained, made his brain short-circuit.

  He twisted in his seat, fumbled for his seat belt.

  More Shelby.

  He wanted more Shelby.

  He needed more Shelby.

  His hand collided with something cold and sticky. Ice cream. He jerked it back, and Shelby yelped.

  Shit.

  Her arm.

  They were making out in a minivan.

  Two empty car seats glared at him from the bench seat in back.

  Her kids. She had kids.

  And a broken arm.

  He couldn’t catch his breath, and he suddenly realized she wasn’t looking at him.

  She was cradling her elbow on her broken arm, staring out the side window so he got a face full of brown hair. “Shelby? You okay?”

  “Sure as shootin’,” she said. “But I’m missing softball practice, and the girls need my brains to make up for us being down a player. So do you mind getting this van back in gear?”

  He stared at her hair clip, at the flyaways sneaking out of it, at the stiff set to her shoulders. The wall she’d put up was so thick, he was surprised he could still hear her talk.

  “Sure,” he said.

  “And then you can take my van and go do... whatever it is you needed to do tonight. The girls will get me home.”

  He grunted.

  Going home was smart. For both of them.

  But that didn’t mean it was what he’d do.

  * * *

  “Shelby, that man’s looking at you like you’re a prime rib with a side of bacon,” Tara said twenty minutes later.

  “Don’t say I didn’t warn you about dating neighbors,” Mari Belle added.

  “It’s okay,” Shelby said. “My neighbor Miss Mitzi told me he’s due for moving orders any day now. So he’ll be leaving Gellings soon.”

  And she’d keep telling herself she could be a modern woman, that it was all fine and swell and dandy to kiss a man and not intend for it to go anywhere.

  Zack was in the outfield, tossing a ball with Jackson and, unless Shelby was mistaken, getting grilled about his reasons for being there. It was all friendly and innocent-looking, but Anna’s husband was one of those Southern gentlemen who looked out for all the women in his life. If Zack was secretly a serial killer, Jackson would sniff him out without Zack being any wiser.

  Anna paused by their little powwow outside the dugout. “Hey, that’s really cool, balancing both ice creams on your cast. It is good for something! Wait, why do you have two? Oh, no. Is it a boy thing?” She dropped her voice. “Is this a neighbor boy thing? Is that why he’s here?”

  “He’s here because he doesn’t have the sense God gave an armadillo,” Shelby said. It was what the girls would’ve expected to hear.

  “Oh, he’s making the moves, isn’t he? Bless his heart,” Tara murmured.

  “Are you eating his ice cream?” Anna whispered.

  “Rather have a shot of moonshine, but ice cream was all he offered,” Shelby said.

  Except it wasn’t all he’d offered. And she’d take more of that kissing over the moonshine. Dadgum man. He was funny, he was hot, and he kissed better than a sailor cussed.

  If she were just plain single and childless, she’d go for it. One night, one month, one year—she would absolutely get to know Zack Montgomery.

  But that was someone else’s life. Hers revolved around two little angels who depended on her for everything. And so Zack Montgomery had to go.

  Which he would do anyway. As soon as he got orders. “I don’t want him helping our team,” Shelby said.

  Her friends all looked at her cast.

  Dadgum thing. She wanted to toss it out on the practice range and have a go at it with her daddy’s old shotgun. “He can’t play for us,” she added. “He’s alread
y on another team.”

  “The league rules are pretty relaxed on substitutions, what with so many of the guys being gone for TDYs or working odd shifts,” Anna said. “He could—oomph.”

  “We’ll take care of it, sweetie,” Tara said. “But if you want him for a nooner or something—”

  Jesus, Mary, and Starbucks, she wanted more than a nooner. “Two babies are enough for this single mom, thank you very much.”

  “Lots of ways to have a nooner with no fear of pregnancy,” Tara said with a wink.

  Anna giggled and shot a glance at the outfield.

  If Alexander had been half the man Anna’s second husband was, Shelby would’ve been in Florida with her babies right now. With her family. But Alexander had always been too hypersensitive about anything that wasn’t routine, too rigid, too attached to that stick up his butt. Shelby couldn’t picture him coming out to play on her softball team any more than she could picture him throwing caution to the wind and booking a round-the-world cruise simply because he wanted to do it.

  The most adventurous he’d gotten was having sex with her in his dorm room with the lights out because they’d both been tipsy and he’d thought she looked like fun. And she’d thought a guy that repressed had to be crazy-wild in bed.

  She shouldn’t have married him, but her parents had been traditionalists, and he’d been set on taking responsibilities for his mistakes.

  And that’s what she’d been for almost six years now.

  His mistake.

  She’d been so relieved when he’d come out and said it last October. They hadn’t had sex since before Braden was born. They didn’t even talk anymore. Not about anything that didn’t involve laundry or diapers or the kids being a little more quiet so Alexander could relax when he got home from work.

  Letting her go was the third biggest gift Alexander had ever given her, right behind Hailey and Braden.

  And now Shelby was free.

  Out in right field, Jackson laughed at something Zack said.

  Another man, another chance to be a mistake. Shelby shook her head. She couldn’t do that again. She couldn’t make a mistake. She couldn’t be a mistake. “He’s good on the outside, but I don’t know what’s on the inside,” she whispered.

 

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