by Calista Fox
Liza gleaned a bit of satisfaction out of the shock that registered on the reverend’s wife’s face when she said, “Your husband was kind enough to stop by my cottage earlier to invite me to the service. Really…above and beyond the call of duty, don’t you think?”
If looks could kill, Liza would have been six feet under at that very moment. She fought back the triumph she felt at having rattled Lydia’s cage. Served the First Lady of Witchiness right.
“We’ll be pleased to see you tomorrow,” one of the ladies under the hairdryers said with a friendly smile, taking Liza’s side.
“Oh yes,” another chimed in. “Do stop by the recreation room after the sermon for cake. I’m bringing my famous red-velvet triple tier.”
“Sounds divine,” Liza said. Most of the room beamed back at her for being so gracious.
This round goes to me!
“Unfortunately,” she continued on, “I’ll have to take a rain check. I’m not much for Sunday worship. But I’m sure I’ll run into you again. Good evening, ladies.”
With that, she turned on her high heels and marched back into the hallway, dropping off the shampoo she’d never intended to buy. Pushing open the door, Liza found that she didn’t mind the thick, humid air so much. It was infinitely less oppressive than the air inside Lydia’s shop.
Her victory was short-lived, however. She suddenly wanted to kick something—maybe herself—because it dawned on her that Lydia was the local hairdresser. After today’s mishap and now this reverse snub, Liza was sure to be banned from her chair.
Shit! What was she going to do about her fading highlights?
Shaking her head and muttering under her breath, she stalked down the sidewalk.
Well, hell. She might have been one or two up on Lydia Bain for calling her out in front of her girls, but Lydia had inadvertently evened the score. It wasn’t as if Liza could go to her now for highlights or a “Cut-N-Color”.
She was two feet from her car when she realized she’d parked in front of a drugstore. Her eyes rolled. Here was another low point in her life. Liza made a sharp turn, pushed open the door—which did have a silver bell above it—and searched the aisles for a highlighting kit. Selecting one based on nothing more than a whim, she dropped the box at the counter and pulled some bills from her purse.
How difficult could this be, really? According to the instructions on the side of the box, all she had to do was place a cap over her head, pull through the strands she wanted highlighted, mix the chemicals and slop them onto her hair.
Bada-bing. Instant highlights.
She needed Lydia Bain why?
Feeling particularly pleased with her resourcefulness, Liza pushed the door to the store open and let out a sharp, “Oh!” as the glass sheet nearly slammed into Reverend Bain.
He was quick on his feet, though, and jumped back.
“I’m so sorry, Reverend!” she exclaimed as she stepped around the closing door. “Are you all right?”
He smiled at her as he gave a slight shake of his head. “You almost got me there, Liza.”
“I didn’t see you. I’m terribly sorry.”
“It’s all right. Just bad timing on my part.”
“Who’d expect a sidewalk traffic jam in Wilder?”
“Not a normal occurrence, no. But I’m glad we bumped into each other.” His smile was contrite. “Well, not literally, of course. I wanted to make sure you and Jack were okay. Lydia has just been beside herself since the accident this afternoon.”
A brow jerked up. “Really?” she couldn’t help but say, though she did have the good social grace not to elaborate. If Lydia Bain was “just beside herself” when Liza had been in her shop, she was going to hate being in her presence when Her Royal Witchiness was back to normal.
“Jack and I are fine,” Liza continued on, trying to keep her composure. “Thanks for asking. He has quick reflexes and was very concerned about my safety. His aunt’s as well.”
Maybe she could help to redeem Jack in the reverend’s eyes.
“Lydia and Jack have always been good friends. She would feel remorseful for hitting anyone’s car, but it was particularly distressful for her to damage Jack’s truck and potentially hurt him, because they’re so close.”
Was that the source of contention between Jack and Bain? Did the reverend have a burr in his saddle because Jack and his wife were friends? Did he suspect, as Liza had initially, that there might be something sexual between them?
Hmm. The plot was thickening. And the bad part about it was that Liza seemed to be stuck in the middle.
“The damage didn’t look too bad,” she assured him. “Your wife’s car took the brunt of the hit. I’m just glad she wasn’t injured.” Liza had to dig deep for that one, but in the grand scheme of things, of course she wouldn’t want anyone getting hurt in a car accident.
“I’m on my way over to the salon now to find out when she’ll be wrapping up with the ladies. I don’t particularly like that she’s working late after being so shook up. Poor thing.”
Yes, poor thing, indeed. Liza resisted the urge to roll my eyes.
“Say,” he added. “If you’re looking for something to do this evening, the church hosts Bingo on Saturday nights. We get quite a turnout.” He consulted his watch and said, “It’s almost seven o’clock. Shops are closing up and people will be heading over after dinner. Usually gets exciting around eight.”
The city girl was at a loss for words. Her first Saturday night in Wilder and her best invitation was to play Bingo with the church folk? Last Saturday she’d been at a swank function at the Waldorf Astoria Hotel in Manhattan. Sipping champagne and prematurely celebrating the rebound of McClellan-Piper’s corporate debacle, which she’d worked so hard to fix. She and her colleagues had been there with clients when they’d learned the CEO had foregone her crisis management plan and had heaped the whole mess on poor PR. Leaving Liza holding a bag of shit she hadn’t been the one to fill.
She tried to shake off the memory. She needed to move on, didn’t she?
“Thanks for the invite, Reverend,” she said. “I already have plans.” There was still a chance for her to do a little more sinning this evening. A thought that sent an erotic shiver down her spine.
While she bit back a smile at the idea of hooking up with Jack again, the corners of the reverend’s mouth dipped. Though he didn’t give her a full-fledged, disapproving frown, she was sure he knew what her plans entailed.
With any luck, her sexy cowboy would continue what he’d started this morning. Liza was more than happy to put her bizarre day in town behind her and singe the sheets tonight back at the cottage. The mere thought of the Devil’s scorching-hot kisses and wicked ways was enough to make her want to wrap up her conversation with the reverend and head straight to the saloon.
But then he said, “If you change your mind, the ladies usually play until eleven.”
“Eleven?” Her eyes narrowed. Hadn’t Jack said his bar had to be closed by ten tonight? Yet the Bingo Babes got their curfew extended to eleven? Where was the justice?
“You’d be surprised at how lively it gets,” the reverend continued with a smile.
“I can imagine.” Oh please! “Well, again, thanks for letting me know. I’ll keep it in mind for the future.”
“You take care of yourself, Liza,” he said in a fatherly tone.
“I am, Reverend. Thanks for your concern, though.”
He nodded. The flicker in his blue-gray eyes made Liza wonder if he thought of her as some poor, lost soul he had the opportunity to save. Was she lost? Was that why she’d settled in a town she’d never even heard of without a second thought?
“I admire your independence, Liza, don’t get me wrong.” He was quick to say. “It’s just that young people can be misguided sometimes. Or easily influenced.”
Ignoring the obvious dig toward Jack, she smiled politely and said, “I’m twenty-eight, Reverend. Hardly ‘young people’.”
He surpris
ed her with a laugh. “I suppose I lump all single individuals into that category. Forgive me. Although,” he added, “Twenty-eight is still young.”
“Thank you for that.” It was a nice reminder that she still had a long life ahead of her. Her career was over, yes, but she was only twenty-eight. There was plenty of time for her to make something of herself, wasn’t there?
Giving a self-deprecating laugh, she said, “Really, Reverend. Thanks for the reminder.”
He grinned. “Glad to be of service.” He stepped past her, but paused and said over his shoulder, “And I do hope to see you tomorrow morning.”
Liza couldn’t lie to him. “I’m not really the worshipping type. But I won’t totally discount it.”
“Fair enough.” He nodded his head in acceptance and continued down the sidewalk toward Lydia’s shop.
Liza piled her purchases in the front seat of her Mercedes and headed back to the cottage. As she turned onto the winding drive, she thought about the last time she’d been there, following lunch with Jack and her first run-in with Lydia. The confusion she’d felt over the allegiance Jack had to one but not the other step-relative still bothered her. Especially since Liza preferred the reverend to his sanctimonious wife.
As she stepped from the car, she found the ambience soothing. The trees swayed in the light breeze. The sun had shifted to the west as it started its gradual descent into the horizon. Splashes of purple, pink and gold spilled across the lake like paint from toppled-over cans coloring a blue canvas.
She had to admit, things in Wilder piqued her interest. The politics. The people. Their little melodramas.
Jack Wade…
Deciding she liked playing with fire where he was concerned, she slid behind the wheel again. She turned the car around and headed to the saloon.
Chapter Ten
“What’re you reading there, George?” Jack asked as he stepped behind the bar, taking over while Josh completed the liquor inventory. “The Idiot’s Guide to Campaigning?”
“As a matter of fact, yes.”
Jack chuckled as he poured a Glenlivet for his friend. “Maybe you ought to let me read it when you’re done. I’m not entirely sure I know what I’m getting myself into.”
George set the book aside. He sipped his cocktail, then said, “Obviously, considering the way you’ve been stirring things up this weekend.”
“Me?” Jack’s brow jerked upward. “I’m not the one spreading the word about who’s running for City Council.”
“Oh that.” George had the good grace to look contrite.
“Yeah, that.”
“I got the book from the library,” George said as he patted the cover. “Of course, Mrs. Parsons was curious to know why I was checking it out. So I told her.”
Jack rolled his eyes. “She’s the town crier, George.”
“Consider it cheap and easy PR. I’m pretty sure there’s not a person in town who doesn’t know you’re running now.”
“Including the reverend.”
George whistled under his breath. “Would’ve loved to have been a fly on the wall during that conversation.”
“I didn’t have anything to say about it. He came out to the cottage to tell Liza about Sunday worship. Any excuse to stick his nose in my business.”
“Yeah, about that.” George took a deep sip from his glass, then said, “The two of you are burning up the rumor mill.”
Jack shrugged. “No one’s business but our own.”
“When you’re in the privacy of your own home, sure. But you’re on public display, my friend. And I don’t just mean running for office. Apparently, you two left a lot of tongues wagging in town today.”
Jack grinned. “I am having trouble keeping my hands off her.” Especially after they’d made love. Christ, he hadn’t been that excited in years. If ever. The way she looked at him. The way she touched him. The way she felt beneath him, her long legs wrapped around him, her wet cunt clutching at him, squeezing him tight… If there really was such a thing as sex addiction, he might have it with this woman.
“I know it’s natural for you to do whatever you want, whenever you want, however you want,” George said. “To hell with the consequences. But with Liza… There might be some repercussions to consider.”
Jack reached into the cooler behind the bar and pulled out a longneck bottle of beer. He didn’t typically drink on the job, but the thought of his dick in Liza’s tight pussy or possibly the topic of “repercussions” had him in need. He popped the top and took a long pull before he said, “Something’s different with her, I’ll admit.”
“Not like your usual chippies from the city, huh? None of whom you ever invited to town, I might add. Not for dinner or a booty call.”
True. Jack had kept his sex life private all these years. It was easier that way. So why had he been so nonchalant about his public displays of affection today? Aside from Lydia, because he didn’t like flaunting anything in her face, he hadn’t given a hoot about who saw him with Liza. Hadn’t cared what they thought about it or had to say about it. Not when they were holding hands, not when he’d snuggled up to her in the booth at Pietro’s, not when he’d kissed her in the parking lot.
Resting his forearms on the bar, he gave George a serious look and said, “I think I want everyone to know she’s off limits.”
“For how long?” George asked. “Because once you take her off the market, she may lose the chance to get back on it. After you’re done with her, that is.”
Meaning Jack would ruin her reputation. He’d considered that last night. He may not parade his women around town, but it was no great mystery that he’d gotten around. Right up until two years ago or so. Then he’d become too busy with other things in his life. The expansion of the saloon. The morality sanction. Repairs to the house.
He thought about all the excuses he’d come up with to stay in town rather than drive over to Austin and find a woman to spend the night with.
As he took another swig of beer, a thought crystallized in his brain, telling him something more was going on than he’d originally suspected. It wasn’t just about the sex when it came to Liza.
“There’s something about her,” he told his friend. “I can’t describe it. It’s…everything, actually.”
It occurred to him that he hadn’t fucked her last night not just because he knew she wasn’t the one-night stand type. She wasn’t the love-’em-and-leave-’em kind, either. As he’d thought about her when sleep had eluded him, his body craving her touch, his mind filled with the image of her green eyes and her long legs and her full breasts, and the sounds of her sexy moans taunting him, he’d thought about what he’d wanted from this woman. And discovered in the morning that it wasn’t just a quick romp. He wanted to know her. Not just her body, but her mind too.
He had no intentions of ditching her now that he’d fucked her. He’d gotten a taste of her that left him wanting more. So much more. Problem was, she’d signed a four-week lease, had a whole life back in New York that she’d left on a whim and had made absolutely no commitment to stay in town. Or in Texas, for that matter.
All of which should make him sigh with relief. When she moved on, he wouldn’t be the bad guy for ending it. Because Jack always ended it.
But he wasn’t thinking in those terms with Liza. He was thinking in terms of a journey they were sharing, because things happening this weekend were as new to him as they were to her. He liked taking her to lunch and seeing her in his bar and sharing a bed with her. He liked that life in Wilder was new and exciting to her, because it made it that way for him too. He’d forgotten along the way the reasons why he stayed, especially with the morality sanction causing so many problems for him.
But these past couple of days he’d felt…reenergized. Ready to fight the good fight. Take on whomever he had to in order to help turn the town around.
Liza gave him a new perspective on life in Wilder. He hadn’t even realized he’d lost his somewhere along the way. But last
night, he’d been reminded of all the good his father had done before his mother had taken a whopping bite out of his dreams. Sam Wade had liked his life in Wilder before that. Jack had enjoyed his life here too, until the reverend and his crusaders had gotten heavy-handed.
There was a balance to be struck and he wanted to help people see that. This was his town as much as it was the Bains’ or anyone else. Including Liza, the newcomer. Just like the rest of them, she shouldn’t have to conform to someone else’s ideals in order to fit in. Perhaps that’s why he’d felt so comfortable showing them off as an item today.
And he truly did think of them that way. He was interested in seeing how things between them progressed, even if it might prove detrimental to him in the end. Because, again, she hadn’t committed to staying. Had a whole other life elsewhere, with someone else. A someone who might come looking for her, wanting her back, no matter how easily she’d dismissed Peter this afternoon when Jack had made his inquiry.
Frowning, he stood and drained his beer. To which George replied, “I’d say the phrase ‘she’s under your skin’ is a horrific understatement.”
Jack tossed his empty bottle in the trash. “You’d be right.”
Thankfully, he didn’t have the opportunity to elaborate, because George’s wife entered the bar and Jack busied himself opening a bottle of Chardonnay for her. George took his book and his drink and joined her at a table, where Jack delivered her wine.
“I heard the good news,” Jess said. “George told me you’re running for office.”
“Guess there’s no getting out of it now.”
She laughed. “Not a chance. Of course, we’ll do everything we can to help.”
“Just keep coming in so I can afford this joint.”
“You don’t have to twist our arms!” Jess said as she reached for her glass.
Jack returned to the bar, tidying it up before the evening crowd started to file in, leaving him little time to think about Liza and the predicament he’d found himself in. Created for himself, really, because he’d known what he was doing last night. Had known this morning when he’d made love to her. Had known when he’d paraded down the main drag with her.