It Happened on Love Street

by Lia Riley

  “Summer Can Wait.”

  “No! No, you were not!” Lou Ellen stamped her heels on the floor, squealing so loud Fitzgerald whined. Rhett shot him a look of sympathy. His own ears were ringing. “That one is coming out next month. The trailer looks so good.”

  Pepper’s cheeks turned an adorable shade of pink. “I might have been cut from the final version. It was a general city shot.”

  “Okay. Name your favorite book.” Lou Ellen sat back, tossing out enough rope for Pepper to hang herself. “You may or may not happen know that my brother is an extensive reader.”

  “I’d suspected as much from his dogs’ names.” Pepper sipped from her pint glass. “But is this a trick question where I’m supposed to answer ‘the Bible’?”

  Lou grinned. “I’ll amend. What’s the last thing you read?”

  “Essay fifty-one from The Federalist Papers.”

  “For fun?”

  “Constitutional ratification is a hoot.” She shrugged. “Told you I was dry.”

  “Good Lord, she is a lawyer, isn’t she?” Lou Ellen announced to Rhett. “But she’s got pluck, and that counts for a good deal in my book.”

  “I also have this plucky pet peeve about being discussed like I’m not here. Your turn to get cross-examined.” Pepper fired back, chewing the corner of her lip, although her dancing eyes told she enjoyed herself. “Tell me something about Rhett, when he was a little boy.”

  “Oh. Yes.” Lou Ellen clearly relished the chance. “Let me see. My favorite memory would have to be the time Rhett lost his first tooth.”

  “Not that one,” he said with a groan. It was surreal sitting here shooting the breeze with these two. He loved his sister, and he, well, he liked Pepper. A lot.

  “It’s not every day someone decides to rid themselves of a tooth by jumping off the roof.”

  “I’m not the only kid who ever believed it.” Fuck. What if he more than liked Pepper?

  “Believed what?” Pepper knitted her brows.

  “Superman underwear could make you fly.” How could he be thinking about love and his childhood underwear in the same thought? Any second his sister was going to take one look at him and know exactly what was in his mind. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  “You went on your roof in your underwear?” Pepper asked, still too confused about his childhood antics to notice that he was sweating bullets.

  “Thank you!” Lou Ellen drained her bottle and raised it in a “cheers” gesture, relishing the moment. “Rhett, honey, kindly illuminate us on your eight-year-old thought process.”

  He crossed his knife and fork on the edge of his plate. He was willing to play along if it kept the focus on his internal crisis. “Fine. I jumped.”

  “Why?” Lou Ellen prodded.

  He raised an eye at Pepper. “Does this qualify as leading the witness?”

  She covered a hand over her mouth, smothering a grin. “Sustain. It’s relevant to the story.”

  He feigned a heavy sigh, playing up his embarrassment. “Turns out Superman underwear doesn’t help you fly.”

  The doorbell rang.

  “Now who?” he muttered under his breath.

  “Goodness.” Lou Ellen poured another glass. “It’s like the Atlanta airport around here, little brother. And here I’ve been worried sick that you were turning into one of those bearded recluses that you read about.” She turned to Pepper. “You’re good for him.”

  “Me? I’m just here for professional development.” Pepper repeated guiltily. But she was trying to cover, for him, and that meant everything.

  “Yeeeeeees. Dog walking. I imagine there’s a lot to learn,” Lou Ellen deadpanned.

  Rhett wanted to signal to Pepper there was no point pretending. Lou Ellen saw through their façade, probably took her all of three seconds. But as long as she thought he was having a fling, she’d miss that part where he might well be falling in love. Better to lose the battle and win the war. “I’m going to get the door.”

  As he left the kitchen, he overheard Lou Ellen saying, “Tell me, how many children do you want? Three? Four? Nine?”

  Jesus. He coughed. His sister was a Russian doll of nosiness. But he couldn’t help but be curious. Did Pepper want kids? Did he?

  What the hell was going on?

  He opened the screen door. No one was there. At the end of the street, an unfamiliar car tapped the brake lights before taking the corner too fast.

  With a sinking heart he walked to the bottom of the porch stairs. Sure enough, there was a cardboard box. It thumped twice.

  He squatted and opened it up. Inside a gray puppy stared up, blinking in the porch light. His neck corded as his chest heaved in a deep sigh. This happened more than he liked. People got into life trouble. Money got tight. Eviction notices. And it got too hard to support a pet. Word had spread around the town that you could drop off an animal at Rhett’s house, no questions asked. There wasn’t a rescue shelter in easy driving distance.

  Yet.

  He scooped up the puppy. Tonight the little girl would stay with him. Faulkner, Fitzgerald, and Steinbeck wouldn’t mind. They were used to small frightened animals.

  He walked inside as the puppy wiggled once, then collapsed against him with a relieved sigh. Her pulse was normal, and she appeared well fed.

  He strode back into the kitchen and his three dogs glanced from their pillows, ears perking. Lou Ellen rose, clutching her heart. “Oh my heavens. Look at that. Isn’t he the cutest thing?”

  “She,” Pepper announced to no one in particular.

  “That she is.” The oven timer beeped. “Let me go put her in a crate and—”

  “Let me hold her.” Pepper extended her arms.

  “You?” he said.

  Pepper flushed. “She looks like the dog statue from the park.”

  “Davy Jones?” He stared at the little puppy’s face. Pepper had a point.

  “Now that’s spooky,” Lou Ellen said with a perceptible shiver. “She’s the spitting image. You’re going to call someone from the rescue hotline?”

  “What’s that?” Pepper asked.

  “Volunteers who take rescue animals into their homes. We don’t have a shelter in the town.”

  “Yet,” Rhett added.

  “Yes, yet.” Lou Ellen nodded. “Rhett’s hard at work raising the funds to get one built locally.”

  The image of Hogg’s smug face shining out from the Examiner flashed through Rhett’s mind. The foundation hadn’t returned his last call. But right now there was a more pressing one staring him straight in the face. Pepper’s normally guarded eyes glowed.

  His gaze fixed on her tiny top-lip mole, seized with an impulse to lick it. His whole body tensed, ratcheting up with desire, the near painful need to take her in his arms.

  He’d seen her drop her closed-off look a few times, especially when he did a certain move with his fingers, but this was something else entirely. He knew how it felt, had suffered from the affliction all his life.

  Puppy fever.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  I don’t know who I even am anymore,” Pepper announced to the cute wiggly fur ball. “This isn’t me. I’m not a dog person.”

  The puppy gazed from her lap, all innocent eyes, and tried to nip her nose. The sweet little bundle couldn’t cause any harm unless it affectionately slobbered her to death.

  “There you go, you’re doing it again,” she cooed. “That face. How can I resist you when you make dat widdle face.” It was as if being with Rhett had expanded her heart and now there was room for even more surprises. Like baby-talking to a puppy. Good lord, if Tuesday could see this she’d catch hell.

  Pepper frowned. Speaking of her sister, she hadn’t returned her last two calls or three texts. She grabbed her phone and checked again to make sure she hadn’t missed anything. Nothing. The last message—Hit pound if you’re still alive—from last night sat in the message box delivered but unread.

  “Coast’s clear.” Rh
ett sauntered back into the room. He headed to a well-stocked bookshelf, fiddled around, and music filled the room, a virtuoso acoustic guitar. “Lou Ellen’s left the building.”

  “Speaking of your sister.” Pepper tucked her feet up under her legs. “Is she always so…inquisitive?”

  “That was her best behavior.” He grimaced. “She liked you.”

  “I liked her, too.” And she did. “We’re two bossy dames at heart. Big sisters unite.” Hopefully she didn’t come on that strong to Tuesday. She only ever meant well when advising her sister, but sometimes had an “I know best” attitude.

  “She means well, but likes to get a rise.”

  “I prefer getting a rise out of you more.” She traded her moment of sisterly worry for a teasing flirtation. Hopefully fluttering her lashes would drive away the uneasiness.

  “I’m partial to it myself.” His drawl didn’t have a hint of humor. The hot look in his eyes made her cross and recross her legs.

  “Careful now.” She covered the puppy’s ears with a wink. “Kitty has big ears.”

  When she said the name it felt perfect.

  “Kitty?” he rasped.

  “I’m keeping her.” There’s a sentence she never expected to be saying.

  “But…” He blinked. “You don’t like dogs.”

  “I know.” There was no way to explain the feeling filling her heart near to bursting. This was her pet. Hers and hers alone. The truth sank in to a bone-deep level. It didn’t make any sense, but that didn’t mean it was any less true. Her fur mama hormones kicked in to hyperdrive. “But she’s not any dog. She’s Kitty.”

  “You sure you’re up for that?” His forehead crinkled skeptically. “You don’t know anything about having a puppy. It’s hard work. Lots of responsibility.”

  “Good thing I live next door to a really smart vet.” She waggled her eyebrows. “And he’s a looker to boot.”

  He sank beside her on the couch. “If you’re serious, then here are a few tips. First, there’s going to be lots of chewing. You ready for that?”

  “I can hide my special shoes.”

  “Vaccinations, a bathroom routine, food, obedience, socializing.”

  She nodded. “Not a problem. Routine is my jam.”

  “But why do you want to do this?” He looked inquisitive.

  There it was. The million-dollar question. “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s that…she needs me. But it feels healthy rather than co-dependence. Like we can help each other.” She screwed her nose and ducked her chin, embarrassed to open up. Deep inside was a part of her desperate for unconditional love. But that was heavy stuff, and flings were light as air. Weigh them down and pop—the magic would vanish.

  She liked Rhett, and Rhett’s magic, too much to want to kiss it goodbye just yet.

  Take the awestruck way he watched her. Like she was this fun, relaxed, confident woman. Boy, she had him fooled. The last thing she wanted to do was remove the mask like a Scooby-Doo villain and say, “I’m actually a neediness vortex. Hah hah. Fooled you!”

  Kitty heaved a contented sigh, blissfully oblivious to her new owner’s internal turmoil, and drifted asleep.

  Dog care was a breeze compared to her confusing feelings toward her secret fling. “What should I do now? I can’t hold her all night, but it’s a shame to wake her up.” Faulkner, Steinbeck, and Fitzgerald crept under the table, tails thumping against the floor, checking on what all the fuss was about.

  “Nestle her on this for tonight.” Rhett went to the corner of the room and returned with a corduroy pillow. “I’ll grab a crate from my tool shed in the morning. Right now though, I’d rather hold you.”

  After Kitty was tucked in for the night and the dogs padded off to their cots, Pepper crawled into his bed and his big, strong arms. He lazily unbuttoned her top button and then another, and then one more. Enough space to ease a hand in, caress the soft swell encased in flimsy lace. She’d worn a good bra tonight, one that set the girls off to perky perfection. Every other guy she’d been with always did a cursory rush job, groped as if tuning in Tokyo or kneading bread.

  But Rhett. Oh, God, Rhett. He took his time gliding his thumb around her outer nipple, not content to simply let it harden, no, he kept up the maddening circles until her flesh ached into a sharp peak, her cheeks flamed, and sweat sheened her chest.

  Then, only then, did he lower his head and suck.

  Her head rocked back, her eyes sank closed. Her first bona fide fling was going to ruin her for all others.

  Rhett understood, without being told, the complex mashup of nerve endings. The way the build needed to come slow, through delicate touches and ever increasing pressure. He built momentum until by the time he swirled his tongue over the nub, her body arched on reflex, ready for more, but he skirted away.

  “You’re a tease,” she gasped.

  “And you love it.”

  “I do, but I want…”

  “Tell me.” His lips were against her ear. He traced up the shell with the tip of his tongue, nibbling on the sides.

  God, even that. How much he did with just an ear.

  She rolled to face him, her mouth dry. It was so darn hard to ask for what she wanted. What she needed. To take up space. If she made herself a bother, no one would want to stick around.

  But Rhett wasn’t staring at her like she was a bother. In fact, he was the one who looked hot and bothered. The sight gave her courage. She licked her lips. Here goes nothing. “I want you. Again. And again. And again.”

  “Four times in a row?” He smirked, nuzzling her neck, tracing her clavicle with the point of her tongue. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

  Her breasts grew full and heavy from his attentions. “I like your house.”

  “Tell me what you like about it.” He drew the skin at her throat into his mouth, tasting, before opening her shirt all the way and running his cheek over her swells, the rough grit of his scruff causing her skin to break into goosebumps.

  “That picture,” she whispered, tangling her fingers in his hair. The image was framed in silver and hung on the opposite wall. It was a black and white image of a young woman holding a little boy.

  He stopped moving and looked up. “Me and Mama.”

  “I haven’t met her. Lou Ellen made it sound like she wasn’t around.” It seemed a terrible thing to wish, that he’d been left, too.

  “She’s dead.” He said the words simply, but something fell over him, an invisible cloak, impermeable to outside elements.

  “Oh no.” Her throat clamped shut. He walked a path she couldn’t even imagine. “I’m so sorry.”

  He shrugged, but with so much effort it was obvious that it was more than a simple, casual gesture. “It happened fifteen years ago. I was twenty.” Silence stretched over a few seconds. “The strange thing is, I’m near the point where I’ve lived longer without her than with her.”

  “You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” she said, so softly she wasn’t sure he’d heard.

  But eventually he spoke. “Her name was Virginia, but everyone called her Ginny.” A ghost of a smile played on his lips. “You know, she was a lot like Lou Ellen except minus the sarcasm. Those two were a headstrong pair, always arguing but in a way that you knew meant that they loved you. Doc adored her. Thought the sun rose and set just to bring her joy.”

  “How’d she die? Cancer? Car accident?” She’d passed so young.

  “A bee.” He folded his hands behind his head. His voice stripped of any emotion. “Simple fucking honeybee.”

  Oh no. “An allergy?”

  He nodded once. “No one knew. Guess she’d never been stung, or she developed it later in life. I’d come home from my first year at UGA. It had been rough, Doc pressuring me to do pre-med, but I wasn’t sure. Mama said to stay true to my own path, but Doc was stubborn. He wouldn’t pay another cent unless I did the degree. That it’s what Valentine men did, became doctors. He was right, too. He was, his daddy h
ad been, and at least the one before that.

  “We had a fight and I stormed out, found Beau, drank a few beers, went fishing, and cooled down. But I didn’t close the back door on my way out and one of our dogs escaped. She was a new rescue, skittish. Mama carried on fretting until Doc said he’d go help find the dog.

  “They hiked through the forest. She bent to pick a Carolina lily and a bee stung her on the back of the neck. Didn’t take long for her to start wheezing. Told Dad she was out of shape. Laughed it off. But it progressed quicky.”

  Rhett broke off, scrubbed a hand over his face. “He never spoke about what happened next, but over time Lou Ellen and I pieced together the facts. He didn’t have an EpiPen—why would he?—and they didn’t carry cell phones. And so she died at the edge of a meadow, right at sunset, choking for breath, in his arms.”

  “Oh, Rhett. There are no words.” Her voice dropped to a pained whisper. Her heart fractured at how broken the tragedy had left him. Even all these years later, self-hatred shook his voice. Grief was isolating. While her own family tragedy wasn’t of this magnitude, in some small way she understood why he’d built such an iron-clad protective casing, despite having such a kindhearted nature. “Your poor mom. Your dad. What happened, it wasn’t your fault.”

  “But if I’d behaved differently, had better control of my actions, she’d still be here. Doc grew into a different person without her. Mama teased him in ways no one else was allowed. She’d call him a windbag, but then they’d kiss. They touched each other all the time. When I was little, I hated it, thought it was embarrassing if friends were over. But now, I know what they shared was rare and powerful. In my last relationship I tried to force something that wasn’t there. At the time I thought it was because I owed Birdie to keep trying, but now, who knows, maybe the truth was I didn’t want to lose anyone else in my life.”

  He held himself so carefully still, as if the alternative was cracking into countless pieces. “Come here.” She opened her arms. “Rest your head a minute.”

  He lowered to her chest. “I hear your heartbeat.”

  She stroked his hair. Eventually he continued to speak. “After Mama passed, I quit pre-med. Doc went nuclear, tried to bully me into seeing things his way. But I wouldn’t have it. Told him that staying true to myself, becoming a vet, was my way to honor Mama.”