Sweetest Obsessions - Anthology

by Anthony, Jane

  “Do you have a lawyer?” He paused flipping pages and peered at me through the bars.

  “Not yet. But sounds like I need one before tomorrow.”

  “I don’t know about that. I’m gonna have to talk to the sheriff.”

  “You really want to bother him at home? He’s probably in the middle of Sunday supper. Just hand me the phone and let me make my call.”

  Dewey’s forehead crunched up like he was mulling over all of his options. I don’t know how he’d ever secured a job as a sheriff’s deputy. Back in high school he’d been the worst shot out of the entire senior class, juniors too.

  “One call. That’s it.” He hefted himself to the edge of his seat to grab the ancient rotary phone. The sheriff’s office and holding cell could have been part of a television set for a show filmed in the 1960s. “You’ve got three minutes.”

  Dewey set the phone down on the floor outside the cell. I reached through the bars and picked up the receiver. Then it dawned on me. The only number I knew by heart was my parents’. Everyone else’s was stored in the contacts of my phone. I couldn’t call my mom or dad. They’d flip out on me. Neither one of them liked Misty much to begin with. If I told them what happened—that I’d landed in jail because of a botched proposal—I’d never hear the end of it.

  “Any chance you can give me my phone to look up a number?”

  Dewey spit shells into a Styrofoam cup. “Not likely, Duncan.”

  “Fine. I guess I don’t need to make a call then.”

  He grunted as he heaved himself out of the chair to collect the phone. “You’re a real piece of work, ain’t ya?”

  I ignored him and plopped down on the metal bench at the back of the cell. Tomorrow would be here soon enough. And once I had a chance to explain what happened and promise to make amends, the judge would have to let me go. One night of misery and I’d have my freedom back. Although, now that Misty was gone, I’d have to start the long process of pulling myself out of the deep, dark hole she’d left me in. Again.

  26

  Misty

  “Lemon tart?” I held the tray out in front of me, passing it under the noses of the Monday morning breakfast regime at the Lovebird Café. Patsy had let me come in to try to unload a few dozen tarts on the morning coffee-sipping crowd.

  “You make those yourself?” An older man in overalls and a baseball cap asked.

  “Sure did. All from scratch. Any money raised will go to send the baseball team to that tournament in Columbia, Missouri next month.” I flashed him an extra wide smile that grew even wider as he reached for his wallet.

  I’d just about sold out of the hundreds of lemon tarts I’d baked up early this morning. After I’d stopped by the sheriff’s office and Dewey had refused to let me in to see Jake, I figured I’d be better off trying to fix one problem at a time. One way or another, I’d vowed to make up the difference in the cash the team needed since Jake’s meltdown had been partially my fault.

  Once Jake saw the judge, Dewey would have to let him go. By that time I’d be out of tarts and hopefully have made enough to get the team to Columbia.

  “Last chance. Fresh baked just this morning.” I weaved my way through the tables, stopping every few feet to hand over a plate of tarts.

  Forty-five minutes later I’d sold out and sat at the counter sipping on a cup of coffee while I counted the cash. Robbie said they were about six hundred bucks shy of their goal. I’d managed to bring in about four and was prepared to dip into my savings to make up the difference. But first, I had a stop to make at the Piggly Wiggly. I’d saved an extra-large tray of tarts for the manager in hopes it might convince him to put in a good word for Jake.

  As I entered the store, tray in hand, an aproned cashier met me at the door. She couldn’t have been more than sixteen. This was probably her first summer job. “We’re still not open.”

  “What happened?” I stood in the entrance, my gaze drifting over what must have been the cookout display. Or at least what was left of it.

  “Oh, it was crazy. Jake, you know Jake Duncan? He helps coach my brother’s baseball team.” I nodded and she continued. “Well, he set up a whole proposal scene. Stacked cans of baked beans to spell out ‘Will you marry me’ but the gal never showed up. I’ve got a picture on my phone.” She swiped through her photos before handing me her phone.

  Jake stood in the middle of an elaborate display, surrounded by pyramids of cans, bins of watermelons, and bags of potato chips. The girl was right. In front of his feet, a huge heart made out of canned goods surrounded the artfully arranged baked beans.

  I gasped. No wonder Jake was so upset. He was going to propose. My mouth went dry as I flipped through a few more pictures on her phone. The series of events unfolded before me. Jake smiling in the middle of the heart, holding a ring box. Then Jake pulling back and punching the pyramid of soda. The next photo showed watermelons cracking in half as they spilled all over the floor and soda flying through the air. Finally, the picture of Jake in handcuffs, being led from the store.

  “Wow. That must have been some event.” I handed her phone back.

  “It was. Hopefully we’ll get everything cleaned up so we can reopen this afternoon.”

  “Let’s do it. I’ll help.”

  Her eyes widened behind oversized round glasses. “You will?”

  “Yep. It’s the least I can do.” I set the tray of tarts down on a cooler holding cartons of strawberries. “I’m pretty sure I’m the gal the bean proposal was meant for.”

  “Really? How romantic.”

  I almost busted out laughing. Romance was such a subjective thing. But when it came to Jake, yes, somehow he could turn a truckload of baked beans into the most romantic gesture the town of Swallow Springs had ever seen.

  “Shall we?” I wheeled the industrial-sized garbage can closer to the spill zone. The sooner I finished cleaning up his mess, the sooner I could let Jake know that his bean proposal hadn’t been in vain.

  27

  Jake

  “When did the judge say he’d see me?” I asked. It had been twenty-four hours, and I hadn’t had a chance to make my case yet.

  Dewey was back on the clock. I much preferred the quiet guy who’d worked the night shift. “Judge had a prior appointment with eighteen holes this morning. I’m sure he’ll get to you when he’s good and ready.”

  “He’s golfing?” So much for being a distant family relation.

  Dewey ignored me as he bit into a buffalo wing. He’d ordered lunch for himself but didn’t bother to get me anything beyond the dehydrated emergency rations they kept on hand to feed their non-existent prisoners. I’m sure that violated some code somewhere, but I was willing to forgive and forget, as long as I got out of there soon.

  The bell on the outer door rang. Dewey sat up, wiped hot sauce off his chin, and walked over to the monitor. “You expecting someone, Duncan?”

  “Who, me? Oh yeah, I figured I’d have a few friends over, maybe catch up an episode of ‘Law and Order’ or something.”

  Dewey glanced at the screen. “I’ll be back. Don’t go anywhere.”

  “Good one.” I sat down on the plastic-coated mattress. Maybe someone had finally come to get me in front of the judge.

  “Wait, I told you last night, you can’t go in there.” Dewey backed into the room, his palms out.

  I stood, wondering what had him so concerned. Until I heard her.

  “You just try to stop me. I’m sure I still have incriminating photos of you doing a keg stand filed away on my computer somewhere.” Misty brushed past him like he didn’t outweigh her by a couple hundred pounds.

  The sight of her literally took my breath away. I slumped against the bars of the cell. “Misty, what are you doing here?”

  “You didn’t think I’d let you rot away in jail, did you?” The energy in the room shifted as she smiled. Not even the smell of ammonia mingled with the reek of Dewey’s wings could suppress the fresh scent Misty carried with her.
<
br />   “You left.” I wrapped my hands around the bars separating us.

  “I only went home to get some stuff so I could come back and stay longer.” She covered my hands with hers as she looked back over her shoulder. “And I brought him with me.”

  A man wearing plaid shorts and a polo shirt entered behind her.

  “Is that Judge Thomas?” I asked.

  Misty nodded. “Dewey told me I couldn’t see you until you saw the judge. I got tired of waiting, so I brought the judge to you.”

  “Your Honor”—Dewey swept his paper plate of wings into the trash can—“what are you doing here?”

  “Seems we have some paperwork that needs to be dealt with right away.” Judge Thomas pushed his aviator shades up onto his head. “Can I see the file on this one?”

  While Dewey shuffled through a pile on his desk, Misty turned toward me. “How did you manage to get yourself arrested? I wasn’t even out of town a couple of hours when I heard what you’d done.”

  I lowered my head, not wanting to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry. I thought you decided to leave for good. It wrecked me.”

  “And then you wrecked the Piggly Wiggly,” Dewey said. “That’s why he’s here. Malicious destruction of personal property, assault with a deadly weapon…there’s a whole stack of charges filed against you.”

  Judge Thomas flipped through the file Dewey handed him. “Doesn’t appear to be a flight risk. Mr. Duncan, do you promise you won’t leave the county until we have a chance to meet in the courtroom?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The judge handed the file back to Dewey. “Then you’re free to go. I’ve got the back nine waiting on me.”

  Dewey snatched it. “Your Honor—”

  “Are you questioning my judgement?” Judge Thomas glared at Dewey, challenging him to say something.

  “No, sir.” Dewey glared at me as he pulled the keys out of the desk drawer.

  “Good. I trust you can take it from here?” The judge slid his shades back over his eyes.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Misty turned her attention back to me. “We need to talk.”

  “So you weren’t going back to Omaha?” My breath caught in my chest while I waited for her to confirm her intentions.

  “No, you dumb ass. I want to be with you. For better or for worse. For richer or for poorer. For—”

  “Incarcerated or free?” I joked.

  She pressed her cheeks against the bars. “Give me some sugar.”

  I leaned forward, meeting her lips with mine. Desperate to deepen the kiss, I strained against the bars. But being separated by steel prevented me from taking things any further.

  Dewey cleared his throat. Misty and I broke apart. He looked like he’d just dropped his ice cream cone in the dirt and was about to cry as he unlocked the cell. “You’re free to go for now.”

  “Not yet, he’s not.” Misty stepped in front of the doorway.

  My heart stuttered. “What are you talking about?”

  “Dewey, can you return Jake’s personal belongings?” She tapped her foot, one hand clamped to her hip while Dewey retrieved the manila envelope with my wallet, keys and the red jewelry box I’d had on me when I got cuffed.

  “What are you doing?” I made a move to put an arm around her but she twisted away.

  “I’m not going anywhere until you ask me what you were going to ask me yesterday before this whole thing got way out of hand.”

  “Here?”

  She nodded, her brows lifted in anticipation. “Here’s as good a place as any.”

  I felt it necessary to point out the obvious. “We’re in jail.”

  “Yeah.” She looked around. “How long do you want to stay here? The sooner you get this over with, the sooner we can leave.”

  I grinned as I lowered onto a knee. “Misty Greene, we’ve been through a lot together over the years. There’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my days with. Would you do me the honor of becoming my wife?”

  Her eyes shone as she knelt down next to me. “Yes.”

  I slid the ring onto her finger. She glanced from the ring to meet my gaze. “I love you.”

  “Love you, too.” Then I did what I’d been wanting to do since Saturday night. I pulled her in tight, tilted her chin up and took her mouth with mine.

  “Y’all can’t do that here.” Dewey interrupted.

  “You’re right.” I got to my feet, pulling Misty up next to me. “Let’s go back to my place where we can finish what we started the other night.”

  “Oooh, Mr. Duncan, I accept.”

  “Enjoy the rest of your afternoon, Dewey.” I clapped him on the back as we made our way out of the stuffy building and into the sun. “You know, before we get caught up, I need to stop by Rob’s and apologize. The team got kicked out of the Piggly Wiggly. They didn’t make their fundraising goal, and I’m probably going to have to resign from the team.”

  “No you’re not.” Misty still held my hand, and she pulled me toward her car.

  “I’m not?”

  “Nope.” She tossed me the keys. “I made up the difference by selling mama’s lemon tarts. Y’all are good to go to Columbia next month.”

  “You’re amazing.” I reached for her.

  She took a step back. “I do have one condition.”

  Here we go again. Misty never could give up control for very long. “Oh yeah, what’s that?”

  “I don’t want to be able to walk for at least three days. Think you can handle that?”

  My blood heated. “Are you issuing me a challenge?”

  She slid her sunglasses into place, but not before she gave me a wink. “Are you up for it?”

  “Hell yeah. Three days you said? I bet I can make it five.”

  “Mr. Duncan, you’ve got yourself a deal.” She held out a hand to seal the deal.

  I wrapped an arm around her instead, dipping her low as I ran a hand up under her skirt. “You’ve got to tell me something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Did you lose your underwear again?”

  She giggled, a sound like fucking music to my ears. “Let’s go back to your place and you can find out for yourself.”

  28

  Misty

  Jake put the pedal to the metal and with the help of my souped up V6, we made it back to his place in record time.

  I’d barely had a chance to unbuckle my seatbelt before he’d raced around the car to open my door. As I stepped out into the afternoon sun, he wrapped his arms around me and lifted me off my feet. My arms went up behind his neck and our mouths mashed together. A happiness like I’d never known exploded within me. Heaven. This must be what heaven felt like. Or at least heaven on Earth.

  He kicked the car door closed behind us as we stumbled toward the sidewalk. Now that we’d found our way back to each other we were both desperate to give in to the heat between us.

  His hands molded to my body, pulling me closer. I couldn’t get enough of his mouth on mine, his fingers roaming over my sides, his tongue taking our kiss deeper. My heart revved as we reached the door to his apartment.

  “Keys,” he mumbled against my mouth.

  I couldn’t bear for him to take his hands off me, so I reached into his front pocket, feeling around for his keyring. Without breaking our kiss, I tried to fit one of his keys into the lock.

  “Come on, Misty. Just slide it in.”

  My sarcastic comeback died on my lips as his mouth paid homage to my earlobe. I stretched my neck, trying to give him better access to the spot behind my ear, the spot he knew would make me climb the wall with desire.

  His hot breath brushed across my cheek as his tongue rimmed the shell of my ear. I arched into him, the keys long forgotten. They clattered to the concrete as I let out a low moan. It had been a long time since I’d felt anything close to the carnal need Jake had ignited. My entire body burned with wanting.

  My fist pounded the door as he eased a hand under my shirt. I could have dro
pped to the pavement right there. But I’d already flashed his neighbors once. I wasn’t about to give them access to a peep show.

  “Not here, baby.” I writhed against his thigh. “We have to get inside.”

  He nipped and kissed his way down my neck, across my collarbone, and lower as he bent down to pick up his keys. I couldn’t keep my hands off him. My fingers played over his scruffy cheeks, his ears, his hair…anything not to break the connection.

  On his knees, he picked up the key ring and slid the right one into the lock. He turned the handle, and I tumbled through the doorway first. Together, we fell to the carpet. By the time he shut the door and turned back to me I’d wiggled out of my skirt.

  “Damn, you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He crawled over to me, pulling his T-shirt over his head as he covered the distance between us.

  My palms skimmed his pecs. He undid his belt, then his button. I helped him slide his jeans and his boxers over his sculpted glutes. Naked, he hovered over me. My body was more than ready for him, it had always been that way between us.

  He lifted the hem of my shirt, working it up over my breasts. My skin pebbled under his touch. I sat up, unhooking my bra, needing to feel him skin on skin, everywhere at once.

  Finally, he hooked my leg around his waist, sliding my lacy panties to the side and nudging into me. This is what I’d come back for. Being like this with Jake—so bare, so loved, so totally exposed—was what I’d been desperate to recover.

  “We’re really doing this?” He met my gaze.

  I panted, so completely, desperately hot for him I couldn’t take in a full breath. “We’re not doing anything yet.”

  “I just want to make sure. This is all happening so fast. You sure you’re all in?”

  I wanted to strangle him and smother him with kisses at the same time. “Are you kidding me right now? Of course I am. I said yes, didn’t I? Aren’t you all in?”

  He smiled, the kind of smile he saved for me. It started on one side of his mouth then spread across to the other. Then he pushed in. All the way in. Filling me completely. “I’ve always been all in with you, Misty.”