He took a quick look over his right shoulder at her.
He reminded her of a male model at a photo shoot. Super dark eyes and hair, a lip that seemed to curl in some strange sexy way when he spoke. “Been here for years. Upper part of the county though. I went to a private school in the county next to ours because it was closer.”
Good. He may as well have been from the upper part of the universe then. She didn’t want him to have any preconceived notions about her because of her family’s name. It was very burdensome to have all of that history weighing on her for being associated with the DeBordieu legacy. That was why she still used Bellingham, her father’s name.
Hogan was totally wrong for her, as far as the guidelines of her inheritance were concerned. And soon that wouldn’t even matter because right now, Dudley was closer to her inheritance than she was. Time was ticking away for her to meet the rigid terms of the ancient trust.
Somehow, though, being with Hogan made her feel a lightness of sorts. No strings. No obligations. No baggage.
“So…what about you? Your family?” he asked. He squinted at the bright sunlight and then grabbed his aviators from the dash. That stirred a tiny fantasy in her—taking off his sunglasses and planting a kiss where they touched the side of his face. What was wrong with her? She needed to concentrate on their conversation.
“Nothing remarkable.” Her immediate family wasn’t remarkable—unless you considered her ancestors having been in the Continental Congress and calling for America’s independence remarkable. Or a DeBordieu having been one of South Carolina’s first statesmen special. Or unless one considered having a history of family legislators noteworthy. It certainly wasn’t today. But that was only the DeBordieu side. Today, she was Jenna Bellingham. Nothing at all remarkable there. Just good folks with a good reputation and good standing in the community.
Talking about the DeBordieu side of her family made her want to count in French, which, strangely enough, was where the family originated. She was going to try to avoid the stress that made her turn to French in her head today.
“Here we are,” he pronounced and put the SUV into park by the front of the door in a “Reserved” spot. The shop was in a border region of the county, a less…sophisticated part. Definitely not in Summerbrook proper.
She bent her head and looked up at the façade of the building. She was somewhat impressed. It was on the large side.
They walked inside, and she saw massive numbers of Harleys and motorcycle parts. Biker jackets and riding gear. Tail pipes and chrome wheels. Though she had no interest in anything biker related—because of April and because of her own…pretentious family—she was still a little impressed with the scale of the operation. She glanced around. He owned all this. If he had put his money into something a little more…palatable…like, say…art or antiques, maybe something more than a fashion show could happen between them.
He stood with his legs slightly spread like he was an overlord of the place.
“So…tell me what we need.”
There he went again with the ‘so.’ Such a cute habit.
She took in the place. Hmmm. If that was what he wanted—for her to tell him what to do— What he didn’t know was that she jokingly called herself The Decorating Nazi. She was really good at spending other people’s money. And organizing. This was right up her lane. She walked around the showroom like she had business there. Because she did. Every once in a while, she caught a quick glimpse of him staring at her with his intensely dark eyes. Though the hair disconcerted her a little, his attention did not.
She walked back to him. “Where do those double doors lead to?”
“The warehouse. Offices. And restrooms.”
“Perfect. This is what we’re going to do. We’ll get all the equipment and chairs we need from Occasions in Summerbrook. They’ll have the stage, curtains for the backdrop, and the runway. Set it up with the back of the stage toward the doors so the participants can enter and exit through them. We’ll use the offices and restrooms for dressing rooms.”
He nodded. “What about the dresses and female models?”
“Mrs. Legare wants us to use Enjoliver’s merchandise. We’ll use our local volunteer models we use for our fashion shows. You’ll just need to provide the men and the leather stuff. Oh, and I’ll call the mayor’s wife to get her more involved. Since this was Lydia’s idea.” She paused before she offered more help. “If you like, I could do some research about the latest biker fashions and can coordinate that, too. It’s just that I don’t know much about that off the top of my head.” She picked up a pair of leather chaps from the rack beside her and examined them. She couldn’t figure out how they could even stay on a body. She could just see herself trying to strap them on Hogan, tying the strings in remote locations around his thighs.
“Would you?” he asked, sounding sort of surprised. “We generally stock a lot of utility pieces. Latest leather fashions would be kind of nice,” he said in his blue jeans and red Polo shirt that hugged the curves of his biceps. She couldn’t help but notice just how defined they were.
“Of course. And we could get a local DJ to MC for us.”
“I may have a better solution for that. I have a dude who works for me who used to be in radio. Did commercials and call signs, too.”
“Great, we’ll advertise on your billboard outside. And in the paper. On the radio. A few other places we use with Enjoliver. I can coordinate that too, if you like.”
“Well, shut my mouth. If I’d like? I’d love it. My checkbook is yours.”
If only things weren’t as they were, she’d like to have more than his checkbook. But who was she kidding? She was really a DeBordieu. With huge responsibilities hanging over her. There was no future for her with a man like Hogan.
⸙
Hogan would have liked to involve Jenna with more than his checkbook, but he still needed to see all the sides of her before he made his next move. Before he told her what he was facing at home. He needed to see how she interacted with children. And that was about to happen.
Hogan watched as she continued to survey the showroom. She had one of those finely crafted faces that reminded him of the downtown Charleston crowd. Her champagne-colored locks looked like she’d paid hundreds of dollars to get that shade of platinum, beautiful and shiny, a color that defied naming.
“Do you have some paper or a legal pad that I could use to take a few notes?” she asked with a slight hint of wealthy Southern in her voice. She definitely did not have the country Southern accent that Hickey and Dickey had.
“Sure. Give me a minute.” He walked to the counter where the register was and picked up a pen and a pad of paper. “Will this do?” he asked and handed her the notebook. His hand brushed hers as she took it.
He stared at her every move as she jotted down a few things, paced off the aisle leading from the offices, and made more notes. He shouldn’t be so…mesmerized by her. He needed her for things far more important than a few dates. Or a few kisses. Or a few romantic evenings on his family’s farm. Finally, she took the pages out of the notebook and placed them carefully inside her purse. “I think I have everything I need to get started.”
“So…you ready to visit Ben at the hospital? Or do you need to check out anything else here?”
“Hospital definitely. I was hoping to hook up with April this evening for dinner. If that’s possible. Ever since she’s been working on this fundraiser with Bullworth, she’s been AWOL.”
“Bull, too. But after we get going on the show, we may be, as well.”
She glanced up and smiled. With her eyes.
He felt the glow of her rush through him. She was way too cute for her own good.
⸙
He took a few back streets over to Ashley River Road, an historic, scenic highway that ran part of the length of the river. Jenna seemed to fit right in with all the natural beauty around her. He drove them toward the hospital, and the conversation didn’t dull at any point. Apr
il, Bull, the charity auction, the golf tournament, the fashion show, Ben—all topics of relevance. It was strange that they seemed to have so much in common.
Ashley River Road was lined with countless old plantations, locked behind impressive entrances. “I love these old gates. Ever wonder what it would be like to live behind one of them? Probably lots of history…and lots of snobbery.” He chuckled. “I’ve always wondered why those old money people thought their wealth was somehow superior to hard-working people with new money. Heck. At some point, theirs was new, too.”
Jenna quieted and seemed uneasy for the first time in their previously easy conversation. He glanced over. “Anything wrong?”
She looked over her shoulder at an old entrance where a gardener was planting yellow flowers and shook her head. Something was wrong, but he certainly couldn’t push her to find out.
They continued on, and eventually their conversation picked up again. About Ben. She just beamed when she talked about the little boy. “Anyway, he loves trees. Loves to climb them, too. So I create a lot of his lessons around them. It’s the art project I have for him in the bag. After he identifies the leaves, acorns and bark, he’ll use the shadowbox I brought and will glue each piece on some of the attached canvas.”
“Cool. You always give him lessons like that?”
She nodded. “It’s bad enough he’s stuck in that hospital. He may as well do something that interests him. And I like bringing a little of the outdoors to him.” She smiled. “He even plays football for his…recess.”
“How’s that?”
“You’ll see.”
They finished their ride in quietude. When they arrived, she looked out the window and up at the tall façade of the building before them. Children’s Hospital.
In the hospital, she knew exactly where to go. She’d obviously been there many times.
She knocked on a door at the end of the children’s wing. Ben. The little boy was pale and had a sad look on his face—until he saw Jenna.
“Miss Jenna!” He held out his thin, bruised arms. She hugged him like she hadn’t seen him in years.
Hogan would give anything to see his little girl throw her arms around someone like that.
The boy smiled. “What did you bring me today?”
“Hmmm. Let me see…” She looked into the tote she had with her and shook her head. “I don’t know. I don’t think you’d like this.” She pulled out a video game.
“Football! You remembered! His eyes lit up like fireworks at Patriot’s Point on the Fourth of July. He held out the hand that was attached to a needle, a tube and an IV.
He pulled the game box off his tray and immediately started trying to get off the packaging to play it, but he struggled and his monitor went off.
“Oh, dear.” Jenna pushed a button and took the package from him and held it out to Hogan. “You wouldn’t happen to have a pocket knife, would you?”
He reached into his pocket. “Does a doctor carry a stethoscope?”
“Who’s he, Miss Jenna?” Ben asked.
He held out his hand. “Hogan Thorpe. I know your grandfather. Comes into my Harley shop all the time.”
Something clicked inside his little head, and his eyes came to life. “You have a blue mini-bike in your window, don’t you?”
“I do.” They shook hands and released. The little boy’s fingers felt fragile, like matchsticks.
“Well, my granddaddy says that he might buy me that one day. When I’m all better.”
“That would be awesome. I’m sure we could work out a price that he’d like.” Hogan made the statement to Ben, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Jenna, who absolutely beamed around the little boy.
Could she possibly light up like that around Savannah? Ever?
“I’m trying real hard. To get better. But I fall asleep all the time, so I’m having trouble keeping my promise.” Ben struggled to work himself into a more upright position.
“Let me get this opened for you.” Hogan ripped the packaging with one swipe of his pocket knife. “There.” He handed it to the boy.
Ben anxiously put the disk in the box. “Whoa…this is awesome, Miss Jenna.”
Jenna sat on the bed beside him and kept moving her head and squinting to look at the small screen. Finally, she grabbed her bag. She retrieved a pair of reading glasses from it. “Guess I have no choice,” she said, and put them on. They made her look really smart, and she stared at the screen easily this time. “Kick it there. Oh. Almost.” She ran her fingers through Ben’s hair.
Tears filled Hogan’s eyes, wishing for someone to care for his little girl the way that Jenna cared for Ben.
“Throw it. Throw it. Throw it!” She high-fived him. “Way to go, sport! Okay. One more and then we’ll get to that vocabulary lesson.” She looked over the top of her glasses at Hogan and smiled.
He’d just been served his heart on a plate. Jenna was everything he needed in his life. It was official. And he hoped Savannah would take to her, too. It was all just a matter of timing, but he didn’t want to wait at all.
She eventually schmoozed Ben into wanting to do his lesson. “I’m going to teach you how to define and spell all the terms of the trees and plants so that when you go outside next time, you’ll sound like a botanist when you describe all the flora.”
“What’s a botanist and a flora?” he asked.
“Well, let me tell you.” She almost played with the little boy as she taught him. She made it fun. Then she took out the art project she brought him and taught him some more vocabulary words that went with it. When they finished, she took off her smart glasses. “We’ve got to go, sweetie.”
“Awww.” He pulled the covers up to his neck. “Next time you come, could you bring me some of those boiled peanuts from The Peanut Man? They’re my favorite. I don’t like this food in here.”
She laughed and mussed his hair. “Sure, sweetie. I will.”
Hogan tried to contain his gazing at the beautiful woman, but he was having more and more difficulty. She had just gotten to him in some deep place he’d almost forgotten—a place of…love, evidenced by perfect nurturing.
They said goodbye to Ben and left the hospital.
Hogan definitely had a crush on Ben’s teacher.
He stood in the parking garage by the passenger door of his car and waited to unlock it. “In there.” He motioned toward the hospital. “You were amazing. I loved the way you worked with him. And I could tell he loves you.”
She smiled. “He’s easy to work with.” Her hair bent around her face in a way that made her even more gorgeous. “Anyway, a very wise man once said we owe the future to our children. It one of the reasons I studied education in the first place.”
Hogan’s mind raced to ask her what he’d had on it from the moment he’d heard she was a teacher. “Do you only work with Ben? Or are there other children?”
“From time to time there are. I have a weakness for children with special learning requirements. So when I’m needed…”
No. She did not just say that. She had served him his heart earlier. Now it was served with all the fancy trimmings.
“It all started when I was a little girl, and I helped April to start talking again after her accident. Now…when I see a child accomplish something she hadn’t thought she could accomplish, I just…liquefy.”
He stared into her eyes and saw deep inside her. Nothing could keep him from touching her now. He reached down and placed both hands on the top of her hips. She didn’t pull back. He explored the refined features on her face. She didn’t pull back. And then he kissed her. And she didn’t pull back.
The kiss was soft. And slow. And deep. And melting. It was his turn to liquefy.
He pressed his lips into hers and her into his SUV as he brushed his mouth gently over hers. Mmmm. Sweet. He was moved. Profoundly.
Earlier, he’d thought this woman could fulfill some needs in his life—with Savannah and the fashion show. Now, he imagined she could fill so
me needs in him that hadn’t been stirred in a very long time.
Chapter Eight
“The man who tills the land is more worthy of respect than any.”
~ Nikolai Gogol
Jenna had just let a man kiss her. Gently and deeply and softly. And she liked it. Really, really, really liked it. But what could become of her and a man with a mullet—and probably a redneck life? It sort of felt like a…fling. She had never had a fling before. Every other relationship she’d ever had had a purpose behind it. The trust, her inheritance, the plantation required it. But maybe it didn’t even matter anymore.
Other than indulging a fantasy, where could some kind of a relationship with a “Hog” take her? She did a lot of things in her Louboutins, but hanging out at motorcycle rallies and NASCAR races weren’t on her list. But when he pushed her into his Rover one more time and teased her lips with his, she thought she just might be able to give up the image her pricy shoes afforded her—the image that lent itself to her lofty goals to save her family’s plantation—at least for a few days.
Her back tingled as Hogan ran his hands up it. His kiss was the best kiss she’d ever been given…and she wanted more. This couldn’t possibly be the last best kiss she’d ever had. Could it? She thought for a moment. How should she handle this?
Okay, this is how. Just until the fundraisers for Ben were over. She’d indulge her fantasy with Hogan for a couple of weeks. A couple of weeks wouldn’t matter, and then she’d get back to the business of trying to save her plantation…or to the business of losing it. No one who’d object had to know about Hogan. Not her parents. Not Mr. Slithers. And she wouldn’t let April know because she’d made such progress in overcoming the trauma about bikers from her childhood.
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