by Lee Kilraine
Considering the diner was built in an old train car with tables flanking the aisle and a small counter in front of the kitchen window, it was easy to find Hawk. At six-four and pure muscle, Hawk pretty much stood out everywhere he went. His police uniform grabbed plenty of attention too.
“Hawk.” Paxton nodded. “Mind if I join you while I wait for my to-go order?”
“Sit.” Hawk lowered the newspaper he’d been reading. “Were you in court this morning?”
“Nah.” Paxton loosened his tie a bit. “Just a bit of networking and a meeting with a new client.”
“Speaking of new clients . . .” Hawk leaned in closer to Paxton to keep from being overheard. “What the heck happened on Friday night? I couldn’t believe what I read in the police report and Officer Davis wouldn’t offer up any more details. Hell, she was my ringer for citizen least likely to break the law. Was she drunk?”
Well, hello, Officer Davis. He’d just scored some major points. Sure the story was making its way around town, but with Jolene’s reputation, many weren’t buying it. And Paxton would bet his biggest retainer that a romance between himself and Jolene would drown out the gossip about her arrest.
“You did not just ask me to break my sworn duty of confidentiality.”
“Don’t worry. I’ll piece it together soon enough.” Hawk grinned. “I mean, we’re talking about Jolene; there’s a story here.”
Paxton snorted. Hell, it was only a matter of days—hours, more like it—until the Grapevine had all the dirty details. There was no holding back that tide. Time to throw his own bait into the current. “Then again, maybe we were just hanging out.”
“Together?”
“Yes, together. Why is that so hard to believe?”
The grin that split Hawk’s face was huge. “Let’s see . . . I recall expressions like ‘when hell freezes over’ or ‘if she were the last female in the free world’ or ‘oh hell no.’ Any of that ring a bell?”
“That was in high school. People change.”
Hawk sat back, crossing his arms over his chest, and squinted across at Paxton. “Huh. I’m not sure what’s going on. I feel like I’m being punked and if I look close enough, I’ll find the hidden cameras.”
Movement off to his left side caught his attention and he sized up the situation quickly.
“Don’t look now, but we’ve got a situation brewing. You’re a lonely widower with a cute son desperate for a mother and I’m the last single Cates brother standing. And Barbara the Barracuda has us dead in her sights.” Barbara had helped his family out recently in a big way, but he could be grateful and still not want to be Barbara’s fourth victim . . . husband. “She’s moving in for the kill.”
Hawk’s eyes darted to the side and then quickly back to Paxton. “Roger that. Nine o’clock position and closing in. I suggest we egress the table and separate in opposite directions.”
“Good idea. I’ll go left, you go right. On three?”
Pulling money from his wallet, Hawk tossed it on the table to cover his meal and nodded. “One, t—”
Paxton made his exit on two, throwing Hawk, who paused a split second too long, off. Just long enough for Barbara to move in.
“Hawk Savage, I have a proposition for you.”
Grinning, Paxton went to the counter to pay for his takeout order. Oh sure there’d be payback, but when it came to Barbara it was every man for himself. Any entertainment factor gained was a bonus. The important thing was he’d managed to drop the first bread crumb. He knew exactly where to drop the next one too.
* * *
“Paxton Magnus Cates. You stopped by the diner and didn’t bring me anything?” His mother stood in the kitchen, her hands elbow deep in a sinkful of soapy water. “Not even a piece of pie?”
Uh-oh. “Why would I bring you a piece of pie when yours is the best around?”
She grinned over her shoulder at him, drying her hands with the dish towel she’d thrown over one shoulder. “You’re quick, I’ll give you that.”
“I’m also willing to share.” Paxton leaned down, kissing his mom on the cheek before grabbing two plates from the cupboard behind her.
“Lovely. Oh, before I forget, would you be willing to help Ann Johnson update her will?”
“Mrs. Johnson the librarian? My firm doesn’t handle wills.” Paxton paused, remembering some of the gossip he’d heard. “I thought she went to see a lawyer in Greensboro about that?”
“She did, but I’m guessing the prices were more than she could afford.” His mom shook her head. “Ann doesn’t make much; she only works part-time.”
“Okay, sure. Ask her to call my office.” He pulled the to-go container out of the paper bag, setting it on the island. “Where’s Dad?”
“Doctor’s appointment. You know he complained about being short of breath, so his doctor wants to put a monitor on him to check his heart.” She turned around abruptly to grab silverware from the drawer, but not before Paxton saw the deep creases in her face.
“Ma, he’s going to be fine. If it were serious, the doc wouldn’t start with a monitor.”
She wiped both hands down her cheeks before turning back without the silverware. “I’m sure you’re right. Delaney said the same thing and she’s an excellent nurse, so I do believe her. . . .” His mother finally looked up and met his gaze. Her eyes looked bright blue in her pale face. “It’s just—he burned the candle at both ends for so many years. The first ten years of our marriage he worked three jobs. You remind me of him so much.”
Paxton reached around his mother for the silverware. He divided the pasta primavera onto two plates, passing the first over to her. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“And I meant it that way, cheeky boy.” She twirled her fork in the pasta and took a bite.
“No. Quinn’s cheeky boy. Kaz is sweetness. Sijan is snuggle bunny. Tynan is doodlebug. I’m sweet pea, which I took a lot of guff for.” He did a double take when he saw his mother’s face crease again. “Ma, I’m kidding. Stop worrying. Dad’s fine. I’m fine. We’re all fine.”
“How about happy?”
“Sure I’m happy.”
“All you do is work.”
“I like my work. Work makes me happy.” He stabbed his own fork a bit forcefully into his food, recalling the one thing making him unhappy lately. “Well, except that I keep missing out on chances to rub elbows with the bar association’s selection committee. Mr. Thompson even suggested I’d be a shoo-in for president if I were in a committed relationship.”
That got his mother’s attention. “He came right out and said that?”
“No. You know we lawyers are cagey. He alluded to it. Damn ridiculous.”
“Why don’t you just find a nice woman and date her? Problem solved.”
Paxton scooped up a bite of pasta and took his time chewing, as if he was giving her suggestion serious consideration. He’d had a serious relationship and it had crashed and burned. Which was why he was focusing on his career from here on out. No, he’d thought he and his ex were serious—but when she’d broken up with him rather than even discuss moving back where they’d both grown up—he’d decided committed relationships weren’t worth the feeling of being drop-kicked to the curb.
“I just might, Ma. I just might do that.” He chased the last bite of food with his fork before glancing back at his mother. “Speaking of nice women, I ran into Jolene Joyner the other day.”
“June’s daughter? She’s very pretty, isn’t she? Such a good girl too.”
She was damn beautiful. Always had been. But a good girl? She’d be a good girl with a record if it weren’t for him. And he had no qualms about trying to leverage that. Because he’d refused to take any money to represent her, she might feel guilty enough to help him. What was a little quid pro quo between enemies?
Chapter Three
“Quick! Come in before someone sees the dog!”
“What? When did you get a dog?” Georgie Savage, Jo’s best friend since the fourth gr
ade, slipped in through the front door, closing it quickly behind her.
“Two days ago. Sort of.” Jo’s lungs felt tight, the air stagnating in her chest as she looked down at the puppy sleeping belly up at her feet. “It’s not my puppy.”
“Aww, he’s precious. Whose puppy is it? Are you puppy sitting?”
Oh boy. Maybe Jo should have called Georgie as soon as Paxton had sprung her from jail. Because time hadn’t made this story sound any saner. “Sort of.”
“How can you sort of be puppy sitting for someone? You either are or you aren’t.” Her friend sat gingerly on the chair near the fireplace and narrowed her eyes at her. “And what the heck kind of look is that on your face? What did you do?”
“What do you mean? What makes you think I did something?” Jo glanced at Georgie and then quickly away.
“That’s the look you wore the one and only time you got into trouble. Sixth grade. Mr. Garrison’s class. You got caught lying about having read Where the Red Fern Grows.”
Jo’s shoulders slumped with the memory. Yes, the only other time in her life she’d broken the rules. It had not gone over well when she’d arrived home from school that day. “Matthew O’Hanlon told me the dog in the book died and I couldn’t read it. I had to turn in my book report, so I made it up.”
“I remember the fireworks. You were grounded for two weeks. So, what did you do? Spill it, Jo. It can’t be that bad. I mean, it’s not like you stole the dog.”
“Umm . . . well . . . it’s sort of exactly that. I stole the dog.”
“What?” Georgie’s yell startled the puppy awake and he jumped up, wagging his way over to the new person in the room. “Hello, cutie. Aww, he’s still got puppy breath. Seriously. Where did you really get him?”
“I broke into the animal shelter and stole him.”
That got her friend’s attention away from the dog licking her face with excited puppy kisses. “Get. Out.”
“And then I got arrested.”
“Oh my God! That is so not you. I can’t wait to hear this explanation because I’m thinking it has to start with ‘I was hit on the head.’ ”
Jo shook her head. “Sadly, no. Do you remember that student I mentioned? The one who’s an amazing musician but her father is an ass?”
“Mr. Pope. Ugh, you aren’t kidding. I’ve had the pleasure of dealing with him in the bakery. He’s an arse all right.”
“So you know him. Maggie left for a week of college visits with her mom, and when she came back she found out her father had dropped her dog off at the pound. It was due to be euthanized the next morning, so Maggie was set to break in and rescue him.”
“Oh boy.”
“Exactly. And she just got finished with her suspension from school. I couldn’t let her get in trouble again, especially for something her dang father did, so I sent her home and told her I’d get her dog out. Only I set off the alarm and then got stuck trying to go back under the chain-link fence and the new guy on the police force caught me.”
“Barney?” Georgie’s lips wiggled until she pressed them in a straight line. “I’m sorry. I know you’re upset. This is so totally not funny, except I’m picturing the scene. I can’t believe I wasn’t here to see it—I mean, wasn’t there to help.”
Jo rolled her eyes as Georgie grinned at the puppy chasing his tail at her feet.
“So Barney caught you and . . . let you go? With the puppy? That was a lucky break.”
“I wish. No, Officer Davis arrested me. I had to call Paxton to get me out.”
That wiped the smile off Georgie’s face. “You didn’t.”
“I did.” Jo sighed as the annoyance at Paxton’s cocky grin from the outside of the jail cell floated up fresh in her mind. “And that isn’t even the worst yet.”
“How could getting arrested and having to ask the enemy for help not be the worst? Wait.” Georgie held up a hand before Jo could explain. “Let me grab us a glass of wine. And then I need you to start at the beginning.”
Once they each had a glass of pinot noir in their hands, they resettled on the couch with the puppy crashed at their feet.
“Okay, now explain. Start at the beginning and don’t leave anything out.”
“You were in Raleigh for the weekend at your big catering job, so I was planning on a quiet night.”
“As per usual.”
She shrugged. “I can’t help it if I’m boring.”
“You aren’t boring. We’ve talked about this before. You’re just living the life your paren—”
“As I was saying . . . quiet night. I watched a little TV and read. I’d already gone to bed when I got Maggie’s phone call. Like I do every year, I’d given my students my number, so she called me. Her boyfriend had talked her into breaking into the shelter and she got scared.”
“She and her boyfriend were planning to break into the shelter?”
“Yep. Only her boyfriend, Chaos, also brought cans of spray paint and wanted to trash the place before grabbing the puppy. She got nervous.”
“Chaos?”
“I guess it’s his nickname. At least I hope so. It’s possible he’s part of her rebelling against her father.” Jo had to force thoughts of her own sister from her head. “Either way, he’s not a good influence on Maggie. The last thing that poor girl needs is more trouble, so I told her if she went home I’d get her dog out.”
“Uh, wow. Gutsy move for a risk-averse rule follower like you. Now I really wish I’d been here to help you, dang it. So you broke in, got the dog, and got caught on your way out?”
“Yep. I couldn’t call my parents to bail me out.”
“Only if you wanted to give your mother a heart attack. So you had to call Paxton.” Georgie grabbed the bottle of wine from the coffee table and refilled both their glasses. “Now tell me the rest because I can’t imagine anything worse than you having to ask Paxton for help.”
Jo stared at her wineglass before taking a large gulp. “Do you know what he had the nerve to do? He agreed to help me if I agreed to help him. Ha!”
“You’re an English teacher. What could you possibly help him with? Editing a brief?”
“Right?” Jo shook her head, still a little in shock at Paxton’s request. “He wanted me to pretend to be his girlfriend for six months.”
Georgie sprayed the sip of wine she’d just taken across the soft white finish of the shabby chic coffee table. “What?”
“You heard me. He said he needed to look more settled to help him get some nomination for some bar association thing.” Jo took another sip of wine. A generous sip because the idea of her and Paxton as a couple was crazy. “I’ll admit he did his slick lawyer tricks and got me off with just community service, so I feel like I owe him, and I hate owing him anything. But not enough to pretend to be his girlfriend.”
Moving into the kitchen to grab a handful of paper towels, Georgie returned and wiped up the wine. “Well, this is interesting. Very interesting.”
“Not interesting at all. I told him no. Nothing interesting about that.”
“This is interesting for a few reasons. First is the blush that creeps up your neck and into your cheeks every time you mention Paxton’s name.”
Darn it.
“Second is imagining you and Paxton together for the next six months.” Georgie pointed a finger at her. “There goes the blush again.”
Double darn it. When Georgie said it that way, six months sounded more like six lifetimes. Which only reinforced that she’d made the right decision by turning him down. How would the two of them ever handle six months of togetherness when for the past twenty years they’d rarely made it six minutes without butting heads?
“Third, and the most intriguing of all, is you, my by-the-book, rule-following friend, stepped outside your comfort zone and broke a rule. Hell, you didn’t just break a rule—you broke a law!”
“Crazy, right?” Jo chugged down her almost full glass of wine. It had been two days ago and it was still freaking her out.
“Crazy for you, but also about damn time, I’d say.” Georgie lifted her own wineglass and chugged, emptying it and then pouring them each another. “This calls for a celebration because, lord knows, I’ve been trying to get you to loosen up and bend a rule or two forever.”
“I did more than bend it.”
“You sure did.” Georgie clinked wineglasses with her and they both gulped more wine. “Okay, confess . . . how did if feel?”
“The truth? Kind of... liberating.” That had been a surprising revelation for her. After a lifetime of being the good girl, the perfect student, the responsible daughter, and the sensible sister, it turned out breaking the rules . . . being bad . . . felt good. Like freedom. Her moorings were cast off and the wind had filled her sails. She’d had an urgent desire to steer her ship out into deeper waters.
“I mean, it helps that Paxton made good on his promise and got the charges dropped. And the community service feels fair. It isn’t that much different from the volunteering I’m already involved in around town. But in the days since it happened I’ve begun getting curious looks—and I love it.”
“I’m not the sort of friend to say ‘I told you so,’ but I did.” Reaching over, Georgie filled their glasses again. “Let’s go. A toast to you, my best friend and a total badass now, because you finally took a walk on the wild side. Good gracious, you’ve probably set the Grapevine on fire.”
“If the looks and whispers behind my back I’ve been getting around town are any indication, then yes, the Climax Grapevine is working overtime.” It was just a bit exciting to know people were surprised—shocked even—at her behavior. She loved it so much, she was tempted to do more of it. Not that she would.
“Welcome to the dark side.” Georgie grinned and giggled, which had Jo giggling, and then they were both laughing and snorting. “Here’s to bad girls everywhere!”
“To bad mama jamas.” They drank.
“To bad-to-the-boners.” They drank some more.
“To bad, bad Leroy Browns.” They giggled some more and drank.
Georgie grinned. “Whoa, I believe we’re drunk.”
“I’ve never been drunk before.” That straightened Jo up and wiped the smile off her face. “My mother would be very disappointed if she knew.”