“Bobby?” I looked from Helen to Leslie, who stood far enough back she could make animated faces at me without Helen seeing. When I repeated the unfamiliar name, Leslie pretended to swoon.
“Oh, honey, you’ll meet him soon enough. He’s out of town on business right now, but he’ll be back in time for your momma’s birthday shindig.”
Ugh. My mom’s birthday party had been the event of the summer since as far back as I could remember. My dad went all out one year when they were first married and invited the whole town, and ever since, it’d only grown in size and reputation as Grayson County’s best party of the year. I’d conveniently forgotten about it this year—until now.
“Is he a friend of yours then?” I asked, glossing over any mention of the party or my mother.
“Bobby is Helen’s fiancé,” Leslie spoke up.
“You’re engaged?” I asked, trying not to let my mouth hang open as I scrolled through the list of eligible bachelors in town over the age of sixty. Not many. And none named Bobby that I knew of.
“They met on a cruise to the Bahamas,” Leslie went on, sounding as if she were quoting it. “It was love at first sight in the buffet line.”
Instead of protesting her teasing, Helen giggled. I could only stare. Helen’s husband had died when I was in middle school. Cancer of some kind, though I couldn’t remember exactly. In the time since, I’d never seen Helen talk about or spend time with a man in any other setting but a church potluck or getting her groceries carried to her car. And I’d never, ever, seen her giggle.
“He must be pretty special,” I said finally.
“And loaded,” Leslie added.
Helen glared at her for that one but it lacked any real fire. “He’s one-of-a-kind,” Helen agreed. “I told him I’ve always wanted a diamond necklace. Something big and gaudy like that woman in Titanic.”
“Rose,” I supplied for her.
“Yes, that’s the one. Anyway,” she went on, patting her purse, “he bought me one as an engagement present. I’m going to wear it on our wedding night. On the ship.” She paused and looked around as if there might be an eavesdropper lurking in the otherwise empty shop. “And I ain’t wearing nothing else,” she whispered.
Leslie snorted.
“Wow. That sounds …” I began.
“Sinful, I know,” she finished, flashing all her teeth in a mischievous smile. I couldn’t help it—I laughed. “I know you think I’m crazy,” she went on, “but I don’t give two hens’ eggs. Love has a way of making you appreciate the silly.”
My laughter faded as I pictured Ford at a fancy dinner with dirt up to his elbows. “It’s not silly, Miss Helen. It’s sexy. I love it.”
“Thank you, dear.” Helen shot Leslie a look that said, “See?” and gave a “Hmph.”
“You have a good day,” Leslie said cheerily as she walked the older woman to the door and held it open. “We’ll see you soon. Enjoy your purchase.”
“Oh, I plan to,” Helen said on her way out. I stood in the shop’s doorway with Leslie, watching Helen make her way down the sidewalk. When she was out of earshot, Leslie let loose with a belly laugh.
“What’s so funny?” My question only made her laugh harder until she stumbled back inside and had to hang on to the glass counter to keep from falling over. “It’s just sad, is all,” Leslie said, wiping her eye.
“What?”
“Miss Helen has more sex than we do.”
I put a hand on my hip, intending to snap some retort back at her, but all my mouth ended up doing was falling open and then curving up. Before I knew it, I was laughing with her. “You’re right, it’s pathetic.” Then her words dawned on me. “Wait, what do you mean ‘we?’ What about you and Joe?”
Her laughter died off and like a switch had been flipped, her expression turned instantly sad. “Let’s just say life has a way of coming between your plans. And by life I mean toddlers.”
“Are you guys having problems?”
“No,” she said, waving me away. “Not like you mean. But hey, a girl gets frustrated.”
“I’m sorry, Les,” I said.
“Yeah, me too.” Her expression turned forcibly cheery. “We’ll figure it out, though. We always do. Anyway, enough about my drama. What brought you all the way up here today?”
“Can’t I just come see my friend at her new job?”
She cocked her head and raised her brows. “A friend can, yes. Not Summer Stafford, who is terminally all work and no play.”
“I am not all work and no play.”
“Sweetie, you haven’t gone out for fun since before the SATs.”
“You’re ridiculous. I went out all the time in high school.”
“On parent-approved dates. With seniors who’d already gotten into top-tier schools. That’s not fun. That’s strategic.” I opened my mouth but she cut me off, a manicured hand on her hip. “Tell me I’m wrong,” she challenged.
“You’re—” My shoulders slumped as I thought back over the last few years. Even Aaron fit into the category she’d described. “Whatever. I can get this from Casey. I don’t need it from you.” I turned to go but Leslie grabbed my hand and held me in place.
“No! Stay. I promise I won’t heckle you anymore. Besides, you’re here now, so maybe this means a new Summer? A fun Summer?”
“Maybe.” I sighed, willing the anger away. Leslie had only been messing around. It was my own stuff that ignited my temper. “I do have a date tonight.”
“Holy Mother Theresa! With that guy, Ford?”
“Yeah.”
“Ahhhh!” Her scream drowned out the rest of my words. I covered my ears. “Sorry, sorry,” she said, lowering her voice by a few decibels.
“Geez, Leslie. I’d like to keep my hearing a little longer.”
“Right, sorry. I’m just excited for you. He’s hot. And yummy. And you’re—”
“No fun?” I finished.
“That is not what I was going to say. This is a big deal. You’re doing something that wasn’t part of the plan. I’m proud of you.”
“Thanks, Les.”
“Where is he taking you?”
“I don’t know. Dinner. I left it up to him.”
“Oh, Lord. That could mean anything from Dickie’s Barbeque to a burger at Sadie’s. What are you wearing?”
“And that’s why I’m here.”
Leslie whooped. “Good, because that is something you can’t get from Casey.”
“I shudder to think what he’d pick out,” I agreed.
“Although, his choice might not be far off from mine in this case,” she added, tapping her chin thoughtfully.
“Leslie,” I warned.
“You definitely need something slexy.”
“Slexy?” I repeated.
“You know, slutty and sexy all at once. It’s classier than just being slutty by itself.” She eyed me top to bottom. “Too bad booty shorts won’t work because you’ve got slexy down right now.”
“What have I gotten myself into?”
Leslie grinned. “No complaining. You’ve just given me purpose. Come on.” She grabbed her bag from behind the counter and flipped the sign on the door to “Closed.”
“Where are we going?” I asked, letting her lead me out the door by the wrist.
“Where every girl goes before her first date with a guy hot enough to melt the silicone out of implants. Lingerie shopping.”
Any protests I might’ve made were swallowed up by Leslie’s villainous laugh.
I‘d seen bigger dresses on toddlers. It’s all I could think as I sashayed this way and that in front of my bedroom mirror that evening. But it was twirly and the print was cute. If I’d been more daring, I might’ve picked it for myself. Maybe. If it had six more inches of fabric. On the top and bottom.
The clock on the nightstand read a quarter ’til. If I hurried, I could still throw on jeans and boots and pretend I didn’t own this slip of a dress—or the pale green bra and panties I advertised
from underneath when the light hit just right.
As if my thoughts had sent a homing beacon out into the universe, the doorbell rang. Ford was early. Leslie was trying to kill me.
Voices sounded in the front entryway. Baritones. My dad, Ford, and if I wasn’t mistaken, Frank. Why was he still here? Oh yeah, to witness the debacle firsthand and feed it to the gossiping masses, no doubt. I was glad I’d opted for wedged sandals instead of rickety heels. I lifted my almost-straightened hair off my neck and frowned. My skin felt clammy. Why was I so nervous? It’s not like Ford was a complete stranger or anything. And I’d had dates before. Lots of them.
Just never with a guy that makes your knees sweat.
Yeah, there was that.
I grabbed my purse, closed my eyes for a moment to balance myself, and headed downstairs. Halfway down, a stair creaked under my feet and the group looked up. I concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other. I knew if I met Ford’s stare, I’d lose it. Already, I could feel the heat building as I got closer to where he waited.
The moment my feet touched the first floor, Frank whistled long and low. “You letting her out like that, Dean?”
“Where’d you get that dress?” My dad’s frown left deep creases across his forehead and chin.
“Leslie picked it out,” I said matter-of-factly, determined to ignore his disapproval. I was twenty-two. If I wanted to go out dressed slexy, that was my choice. “Do you like it?”
My dad’s frown deepened. Frank snorted, and I shot him a look. “Very pretty,” Frank added.
“You look … nice,” my dad said finally. Relief settled between my shoulders.
There was nothing left to do but look at Ford. When I did, my breath caught. He was already staring; I’d given him plenty of time for a full-length sweep and if he’d had a reaction similar to my dad’s or Frank’s, he didn’t show it now. His eyes were wide, the color a lighter shade of blue than usual; it matched his button-down shirt perfectly. He stood with hands at his sides, wiggling his fingers before wiping them against his pants.
“You look …” He swallowed and seemed to forget he’d spoken at all.
Leslie, you are a goddess. I would let that girl pick out my clothes until my funeral came and went if it got this sort of reaction.
Frank’s shoulders shook in silent but soon-to-be-way-too-loud laughter. Without taking my eyes off Ford, I planted my fist in Frank’s ribcage and he shut up. “You ready?” I asked with mock sweetness, wondering when exactly I’d become the confident one. The one able to string whole thoughts together.
“Let’s get going,” Ford agreed. He took my hand as he led me to the door, and the warmth from his touch spread like a blanket up my fingertips and arm. I knew the moment it hit my neck, my skin would be visibly red. I might as well have a blinking neon sign that read “this guy makes me hot and bothered.” I really didn’t want to be scrutinized by the welcoming committee for that one. I quickened my pace and scurried out.
“Have fun,” Frank called as I pulled the door closed behind us.
I shook my head and stopped short when I saw the vehicles parked in the drive. I looked from the two dirt bikes down to my tiny dress and sandals.
“Hmm,” Ford said, also looking back and forth between the two.
“Dirt bikes?” On a date? A first date? It actually sounded like a lot of fun. And a far cry from any other date I’d been on. “I can go change,” I began, turning back to the house.
“No, don’t do that,” he said quickly. Our eyes caught and his sparkled with the small smile on his lips. “Definitely don’t do that.”
“I can’t ride like this,” I said.
“Very true,” he agreed. “It just means we’ll have to change our mode of transportation, because you are most definitely not taking that dress off. Well, not yet,” he added with a wink.
I shivered.
“Come on. Let’s go get my wheels.” He tugged me in the other direction and we left the dirt bikes behind as we headed up the drive toward Ford’s house.
“You own a car?” I tried to remember if I’d ever seen him with a vehicle. Come to think of it, I hadn’t. It reminded me how little I knew about him. “What kind is it?”
“A ’71 Chevy C10.” I stared blankly back at him. He shook his head. “A truck,” he amended.
“Wait a second. You own a Chevy?” I giggled.
“Yeah. So?”
“Your name is Ford and you own a Chevy?”
“Har-har. That’s hilarious.”
I tilted my head at him. “Are you named after the car company or something?”
“No, I am not named after a car company.” He poked me in the ribs and I pulled free to dance out of reach.
“What’re you named after, then? Melting glaciers?”
“I told you, it was my grandma’s maiden name—You know what, I’m getting you for that one.” He bolted forward, fingers outstretched. I shrieked and took off as he gave chase.
By the time I reached the turnoff for his driveway, my lungs and legs burned. Mostly my legs. These sandals were a bitch to run in. But every time I tried to slow down, Ford would accelerate, so I kept moving until I couldn’t go a second longer. At his mailbox, I bent over, hands on my knees, and sucked in oxygen. Beside me, Ford did the same, bending until we were eye to eye.
“You’re fast,” he said, his eyes twinkling as he added, “for a girl.”
I straightened and lunged. Ford took off for the house, both of us laughing. I caught up to him as he reached the porch, jabbing my fingers into his ribs. He jumped and grabbed my wrists, trapping them between his hands.
“Okay, okay. You’re fast for anyone,” he corrected. “But I have to admit, a part of me didn’t really want to catch up. The view from the back while you ran was something I don’t think I’ll ever forget.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I stilled, instantly forgetting what had led him to take my wrists in the first place. All I could think was how much I wanted his hands in different places than where they currently rested. My thoughts must’ve been written on my face, because his smile faded and his hold on my wrists became a caress. In slow motion, he bent forward.
Hurry up! Had I ever wanted anything more than Ford’s mouth against mine right now?
I sighed into the kiss, my body going limp in a relief that could only be given through physical contact. His hands released my wrists and found their way to my hips. Instantly, my muscles tightened and I pressed in, opening my mouth and letting my tongue run over his bottom lip.
Ford groaned. “You gotta be careful with that move.”
“Why is that?”
“Much more of it and this’ll be the most backwards date ever.” At my raised brows, he explained, “Dessert and then dinner.” He gently set me aside and fumbled with the door handle. “I’ll grab keys and be right back.”
“I can’t come in?”
“Not if you ever want to leave,” he said as he disappeared inside.
I sat on the top step to wait, smiling to myself. No one had ever admitted to being this distracted by me. And it was nice to know my reaction to Ford wasn’t one-sided. Oh, this could be fun.
A moment later, Ford appeared with a set of keys in hand. I stood up and smoothed my dress to make sure it fell low enough to cover everything it should. Ford’s eyes tracked my movements, lingering on the short hemline before he abruptly descended the steps on his way to the detached garage. I waited while he pulled the bay door open. My eyes widened when I saw the truck parked inside.
“This is Darla,” he said, with a sweeping gesture. “What do you think?”
“I love it,” I told him, walking slowly forward so I could admire her. I didn’t know much about cars, but I could appreciate its perfect condition and grungy, retro blue paint job. “She’s gorgeous.”
He stared back at me, his gaze never once including the truck as he said, “Yes, she is.”
Chapter Fifteen
Ford
All the way through the restaurant parking lot, I walked a little slower than Summer. As she passed through the front door, a burst of air from the AC ruffled the bottom of her dress and my breath caught in my chest until I almost choked. I owed endless favors to whichever of her friends had picked that dress—judging by the way she kept tugging at the hemline I figured it wasn’t something she’d chosen on her own.
Where her thick waves of hair ended, her legs began, almost like she wasn’t wearing anything at all. My jeans grew tighter at the thought of her naked. Shit. I had a crowded dining room to get through. Dying kittens. Dying kittens.
I held her chair and then sat quickly, hoping no one noticed I was harder than a seventh grader copping his first feel.
“Hey, y’all.” Our waitress appeared, smacking her gum between her lips in a way that allowed you to see the entire process. Classy place. Last time I’d listen to Casey on a good dinner spot. “What can I get y’all to drink?”
“I’ll have a water, please,” Summer said.
“I’ll have the same.”
“Sure thing.” The waitress smiled brightly, popped her gum, and left.
I still couldn’t look at Summer. Not enough kittens for that. So I looked everywhere else, pretending to be interested in the décor. It was a mish-mash of antiques and junk hanging from nails or propped on worn shelves. There was a rooster theme along one wall that was interrupted in the middle by a boar’s head before the theme changed to stuffed squirrels along the other half of peeling wallpaper.
“This place is …” I didn’t bother finishing as our waitress reappeared and set two already-sweating water glasses in front of us. She walked off again without a word.
Summer caught my eye. “The food’s good,” she said.
“Good. If not, I’d have to take you home early so I could kick Casey’s ass for suggesting this place.”
She laughed. “Well, don’t let me hold you back. Casey’s ass never stops needing to be kicked.”
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