“Whoa,” John said, grabbing on to his wrist. “I’ve always respected you. I may have gotten screwed up in my head, but I’ve always respected you. I know how hard this has been for you, coming back here. I’ve seen it. You’ve already earned my respect.”
Conn gave him half a smile. “Have I?” He pulled John toward him with his hold on Conn’s wrist. “How much do you respect me?”
John’s pupils instantly started to dilate, and his breath skipped. Conn switched their hands, gripping John’s wrist. His pulse was racing. Damn if that pie wasn’t gonna have to bake itself. “That much, huh?” he murmured as he leaned in to kiss John.
“Yep,” John whispered back, staring at Conn’s mouth. “That much.”
Conn didn’t waste time on slow and sweet. He put both hands on John’s head and crushed John’s mouth to his. He shoved his tongue inside with a moan. They tangled—their tongues, their legs, their arms. It felt so good Conn wanted to cry. This was home. Fuck paint and boards and roses by the gate. Johnny was home.
Conn abruptly stood, dragging John up with him. John wrapped one arm around Conn’s neck and the other under his arm and around his back. Conn could feel John grab a hold of the back of his shirt in his fist. He smiled into the kiss. John was no shrinking violet. They were equals here.
“Oh my God!” Toby shrieked through the back door. “My eyes! Aiieee!”
Conn and John jerked apart and stared at each other in shocked horror for a minute. Then Conn started to laugh, and John joined him. “We’ll finish this later,” Conn whispered in John’s ear, kissing his stubbly cheek as he pulled away.
He looked out the door to see Toby rolling around in the grass holding his eyes and moaning. The two boys were running around the yard shrieking, “My eyes, my eyes,” over and over. Cheryl stood at the door peering through the screen.
“Sorry,” she said apologetically. “We thought we better come on over. But I guess you two have kissed and made up, huh?” She pushed open the door and walked in without an invitation. “We wanted to get here first.” She leaned back out the door. “Toby! Get your ass in here!” she hollered.
Toby got up and staggered up the stairs onto the porch. Cheryl punched him in the shoulder as she let the door bang closed. “Stop it,” she said. “You’re making a fool of yourself.”
“I need a fork to poke my eyes out,” Toby said. “I may never get over the trauma.” He winked at Conn.
“Good thing you didn’t show up a couple of minutes later,” John said casually. “You’d need a straitjacket.” Conn busted out laughing.
“Har-har,” Toby said. “I get it. Straitjacket. ’Cause I’m straight. You’re a funny guy.”
Cheryl didn’t laugh. “We didn’t just show up to give you a hard time. But we may be the only ones.” She sounded pretty upset.
Conn got a bad feeling. “What’s up, Cheryl?”
She worried her lip and looked over at Toby. “Sit down,” Toby said. “You too, John.”
This was the first time Conn saw Toby as the man he was. He was a father and a businessman. He could see that now in his face and the way he stepped up and took over, steady, solid. Conn sat down.
Cheryl went over to the back door to calm the boys down. Toby sat down opposite Conn, but he didn’t look at him. Instead he laced his fingers together and stared at his hands. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked quietly.
Conn knew what he meant immediately. But he couldn’t answer. The shame and guilt swamped him. John reached over and put his hand over Conn’s, and he suddenly realized he and Toby were mirror images across the table.
“Daddy came over and told me a little while ago,” Toby said, wiping a hand across his mouth as he sat back in his chair and finally looked at Conn. Conn had expected accusations and disappointment. All Toby’s face held was hurt. “He wanted to make sure I knew before I heard it from someone else.”
Conn’s stomach did a slow roll. “What did he tell you?”
“About the jail time, the using. I can guess the rest.”
Conn took a deep breath. “I haven’t told many people. I had to tell your dad before he hired me.”
Toby nodded. “I know. He went to the police station to fill out a background check on you. Standard procedure for him, even if he’s known you forever and you told him everything. He trusts you, Conn. He just does it now for all new employees.”
Conn nodded. He could see where this was going.
“None of that matters now,” John said angrily. “He’s not that person anymore.”
“I know,” Toby said again, motioning John to settle down. “I never even knew that guy. But I can tell you he isn’t sitting in front of me now.”
Conn really wanted to cry then. He should have trusted Toby. He should have done a lot of things differently. It seems that even in this new reincarnation, he hadn’t gotten over screwing things up by making the wrong choices.
“Sheriff Wilkins was there. He made a big fuss about Dad hiring you. Told him plain as day all about your record right there in front of everyone. He and Dad got in a fight about it. Sheriff was mighty pissed when Dad stormed off after telling him he better not spread any rumors about his newest employee.”
“Tell your dad thanks,” Conn said roughly.
Toby nodded. “Yeah, I will.” He sighed. “But look, Conn, I think Wilkins will show here. He never liked you—you know that. He thought you were the reason your mama wouldn’t marry him.”
“Maybe I was,” Conn said. “But not in the way he thinks. He treated me like shit, and my mama knew it. She wasn’t going to love a man like that, who treated her boy wrong. But he didn’t get that.” He looked out at the boys chasing each other in the back. “I think she only put up with him to keep me on the football team.”
“Old news,” Toby told him. “But put your prison time together with openly shacking up with Johnny, here, and he’s got a lot of ammunition.”
“To do what?” John asked sharply. Conn looked at him. He looked madder than Conn had ever seen him.
Toby shrugged. “To drag his name all over town, I guess. If he wants to do something besides work for my dad, he might find it a little tough. Dad wanted to come over and wait for him to show to give him another piece of his mind, but I convinced him not to.” He tapped his chest. “He’s too old for that shit. I don’t want him having a heart attack over it.”
“Your dad may lose jobs because he hired me,” Conn sighed. “I can’t let that happen.” He looked at John. “So what am I supposed to do?”
John crossed his arms. He gestured to the counter with a twist of his head. “Go make your pie, Connor.”
Conn just grinned at his command. “Why?”
“I like cherry pie,” John answered, surprised. “Do we need another reason?”
“Hell no,” Toby said.
With a grin Conn got up to bake a pie.
Sheriff Wilkins showed about an hour later. The pie had just come out of the oven, and they were all finishing their takeout pizza on the front porch. Toby was wrangling to get a piece of pie before it cooled off, and John was laughingly guarding the door. They all went silent as Wilkins parked his car on the street in front of the house and got out.
“Boys, go play in the backyard,” Cheryl said.
“But, Mom,” Harley started to whine.
“Listen to your mother,” Toby said. “Now.” The boys didn’t say a word, just ran down the steps and around the house to the backyard.
Wilkins walked up the path to the bottom of the front steps. Conn had moved to stand at the top. Wilkins pulled his sunglasses off and slid them into his front pocket. He placed one foot on the steps and then leaned on his knee. “You still here?” he asked Conn with a sneer.
Conn didn’t take the bait. He was relieved to find he wasn’t all that upset at seeing Wilkins tonight. After their first run-in at the hardware store, he’d shown up when Conn was in town a few times. Conn had reached the point of ignoring his pointed barbs,
coming so close to revealing his past to the people who might be around them, but never quite crossing that line. Conn had realized that there must be some reason he couldn’t, some privacy or ethics issue that came from being sheriff that prevented him from spreading stories about him. He just stood there and crossed his arms, waiting.
Wilkins gave him a smug grin. “Think you’re gonna work in Mercury, do you? I told Thomas all about you today.” He looked up at the porch. “But he refused to listen.” He took his foot off the step and stood facing Conn. “But he will when he starts losing jobs with an ex-con like you on his crew.”
He’d hit on Conn’s biggest fear about the whole situation. Wilkins must have seen it in Conn’s face. His smile was full of satisfaction. “Your pretty boy there”—he gestured at John behind him—”he won’t be able erase the past. People round here don’t want a lowlife like you hanging around, Meecham.”
“You’ve always had it in for Conn!” Cheryl accused angrily. “No one’s going to care about what happened. He’s back. That’s all we care about.”
Wilkins shook his head with a disgusted look. “White trash, the lot of you.”
While he’d been talking, another car had pulled up behind him. A man Conn vaguely recognized was helping Miss Priss out of the front seat.
“Watch your mouth, Sheriff,” Miss Priss’s voice cut across the yard. “I’d be careful who you call white trash. Don’t forget your daddy was a sharecropper for my brother.”
“Now, Ms. Jones,” the man helping her out of the gray luxury car said, “don’t get yourself overexcited. I’m sure we misunderstood Sheriff Wilkins.” He turned with Miss Priss on his arm and gave the sheriff a stern look. “Sheriff?”
Wilkins took his hat off and nodded his head politely. “I’m just checking in on an ex-con who recently moved into the neighborhood, Mayor.” He put his hat back on. “As sheriff I take an interest in these things.”
He moved out of the way so Miss Priss could be escorted up the stairs. She paused at the top and offered Conn her cheek, which he obligingly kissed. Toby got off John’s bench, and Miss Priss sat down.
She snorted at Wilkins’s remark. “Nonsense. You never liked Connor Meecham, and we all know it. But I must tell you, Sheriff, I was one of many who advised Barbara not to marry you.”
Wilkins took a belligerent stance. “Why?”
“You would not have suited,” Miss Priss said. “She would have been very unhappy. And since she thought the sun rose over her boy, Connor would have been a constant issue between you.”
Her tone had a more than a touch of finality to it, clearly indicating she considered the conversation over. She turned to John. “John, my dear, I’ve brought Mayor Beeson to meet you. I was having dinner with him and his lovely wife today, and we were discussing your plans for Mercury. I thought it would be good if the two of you met in person. Talking on the phone all day, when you’re only five minutes away from each other! I can’t imagine.”
Conn was confused. “Why were you two talking all day?”
Mayor Beeson grinned. He was a heavyset, short man, with balding gray hair and skin that matched in color. But his smile was practiced and polished. “Why, the data center, of course! Imagine little old Mercury at the center of the Internet highway. Job training, new facilities, job opportunities. And Mr. Ford here is going to make it all possible.”
Chapter Twenty
Connor’s mouth dropped open. “What?”
John felt himself blushing. “I was meaning to tell you about that, but”—he waved his hand vaguely—“things got in the way.”
“And that makes it all better?” Wilkins said angrily. “His sugar daddy puts a new business in Mercury, and we all forget about Connor’s prison time? Forget that he’s a drug addict and an ex-whore?”
“I’d watch what information you threw around in a public forum, Sheriff,” another voice said. John looked down the path to see Kristine opening the gate. “Someone might take it into his head to sue you for slander or verbal assault or defamation of character.” She stopped at the bottom of the steps and crossed her arms, glaring at the sheriff.
“It’s all true, and you know it,” Wilkins said to Kristine. “You came to see me the other day, had his record in your hand. He can’t sue me for speaking the truth.”
“Sure he can,” Kristine said. “He can sue you for whatever he wants. He may not win, but he can sue you.”
“Sheriff,” Mayor Beeson said firmly. “You’re overset. Perhaps we should discuss this situation and its implications for Mercury tomorrow in my office.”
“You don’t control the sheriff’s department, Beeson,” Wilkins growled. “I’m a duly elected representative.”
“Not for long,” Miss Priss said. “You better start thinking about retirement before the next election.”
Wilkins waved a hand dismissively behind him as he walked away. “Your family may have controlled most of this town in the past, Ms. Jones, but those days are gone. You haven’t got that kind of influence anymore.” He climbed in his car and drove away.
The mayor turned back to John and smiled apologetically. “I’m so sorry, Mr. Ford. There are still some old-school Southerners around these parts. They’re threatened by change and growth.” He smiled affectionately down at Miss Priss. “But not all of us.”
John wasn’t sure what to say. He wanted to demand Wilkins be fired, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. He also wanted to see how Connor was reacting to being protected by John’s money and his plans for Mercury. Did that infringe on his ability to “be his own man”?
“How would you all like some pie?” Connor asked politely. He shot John a look that said they’d talk about things later, and then he turned to the mayor. “It’s cherry.”
Mayor Beeson settled on the bench next to Miss Priss. “Of course it is! Why, I remember your mama’s cherry pie. Won the ribbon at the fair more than a few times, eh?”
Connor gave John that little lopsided grin that sent John’s pulse into the atmosphere. “Yes, sir.”
John walked over to the door with Connor. “I’ll help.”
Kristine walked up the steps. “Me too.”
“Who are you?” Cheryl asked, bemused.
John turned at the door. “Everyone, Kristine Hamilton. She’s a friend of mine from California.” He looked at Kristine’s face and the look she wore made him add, “She’s the closest thing to family I’ve got.” She smiled at him as the others on the porch responded with a chorus of hellos.
“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Miss Hamilton,” Miss Priss said as she held out her hand.
Kristine shook her hand gently. “You too, Miss Jones. Thank you for seeing me the other day.”
John looked at the two women in confusion. “You two know each other?”
“I’m a lawyer, John,” Kristine said. “I know how to find the answers I’m looking for.” She walked through the door Connor held open, and John followed.
“What are you doing here?” John asked Kristine.
“Well,” she said sarcastically, “I came to visit a friend, and then he disappeared for several days in the company of a known felon, and after I recovered from my hysteria, I decided to do a little investigating.”
They had reached the kitchen, and at her words John turned to Connor with dismay. Connor just shrugged. “Well, I am.”
Kristine laughed. “I discovered that you were right, John.” She held out her hand to Connor. “I’m sorry. I was just worried. But you seem to be everything John told me you were.”
Connor shook her hand. “Not so sure about that, but thanks.” He gestured out front. “And thanks for that. I wouldn’t sue him, though.”
Kristine leaned against the counter next to Connor as he cut the pie. “I know. But it’s fun to scare them a little.” She looked down at the pie. “Cherry, huh? I’ll have a great big piece.” She turned to John. “Retirement got a little boring, eh?” She grinned at him. “Starting a new business?�
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Connor looked at him over his shoulder. John cleared his throat. “Not really. I’m more of a go-between and consultant. Brian was looking for a place to put a new data center. I suggested Mercury.”
“What does that mean?” Connor asked, turning to face him with two plates.
John took them and set them on the table. “Well, in short it means about five hundred more jobs for Mercury and on-site job training for locals who will get first dibs on jobs.”
Connor was silent for a minute. Then he bit his lip and turned back to the counter to cut some more pie. “You know it means the difference between life and death for this town.” His voice was rough.
“It’s your town,” John said simply.
“It’s yours now too,” Connor said.
Kristine grabbed the full plates. “I’ll take these outside.”
When they were alone Connor turned to John. “This makes me happy.”
John’s grin was so big he was surprised his face didn’t crack. “That’s what I was going for.”
Conn couldn’t believe how long it took to get everyone to go home. Excitement was running pretty high over, in Cheryl’s words, “vanquishing Wilkins,” and the new data center.
John explained that first they’d have to build the center. Mercury had one or two existing buildings that might work, but they’d essentially have to be gutted and refurbished to suit the center’s needs. Lots of cubicles and big meeting rooms. Brian Curland, John’s friend who was an Internet search-engine guru, was coming out next month to make a final decision on where the center would go. But he’d made a firm commitment to Mercury on the phone today with John and Mayor Beeson. The kind, according to Kristine, you can’t get out of without paying. And, according to John, the kind Brian took seriously.
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