"Why bother Max? I can give you a ride if you like. Or a jumpstart. It's no trouble at all. I have everything I need in the trunk. Besides, you sure you want to leave it sitting here?"
"Listen, city boy. Here in Wayback, the only thing that gets stolen is hearts. We've got enough cowboys with guns around here to start our own cavalry.” Daisy's chin tilted up a degree as she sent him a stubborn glance. “I can handle myself just fine."
"I was headed up to the school myself. I need to speak to the principal about something."
Her eyes clouded over with anger as her chin lifted another notch. “I was planning to have a little chat with Janis Miller today myself—about your flyers."
"So we're back to them again. I noticed you've been busy. You've torn down all the flyers near the bank. Can I advertise anywhere else in this town besides the Blue Bug Saloon without you breathing down my neck and wondering where you'll show up next?"
"You're damn right I took them down.” She went to the Corvette and set the cakes inside. “Like I said before, there are plenty of places in town where you might tape those nasty things up, if you absolutely must. They don't need to be where all the kids will see them."
"Name one.” Sam demanded. He'd spotted the mess in her car. He'd bet the majority of it was his flyers. “I'm not on your property. All of Wayback isn't yours. This is public property, so there aren't any restrictions. I've already gotten permission from the proper authorities. Just so happens that you aren't one."
A brief flicker of hurt showed in her eyes. Sam squelched any feelings of remorse at his harsh tone. She was sabotaging his business. He wondered how she'd react if he boycotted her little bakery. He let his gaze wander over Daisy, wishing he wasn't so attracted to her.
"There's the Rodeo Arena on the edge of town.” She tipped her head in the direction of the arena. “The Cue Ball Pool Hall. Maizie Malone is a pretty reasonable woman. I'm sure she wouldn't have a problem with you posting them there. Talk to the Jackson Brothers, or Patti Pie Murphy. They cater to rodeo folks all of the time. And The Silver Buckle truck stop and motel is breeding ground for trash. That place charges by the hour, not by the evening."
Sam smirked as a blush spread over her heart-shaped face. She had a sprinkling of freckles on her turned-up nose and her blue eyes smoldered.
"I mean ... I ... Least that's what I've heard."
"I was beginning to wonder,” Sam said, leaning closer, “how a lady like you would know that. They probably do a lot more than drink there, Daisy. Or am I not yet a friend, Ms. Porter?” He drew out her name in three long beats. Sam hoped she heard the mockery in his tone.
"Just not here.” She sighed, indicating the school buildings in the distance and the children milling about. “Where there are kids running around. They shouldn't see the flyers. Alcohol ruins lives."
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Four
Sam bent closer. She'd uttered that last sentence so softly that he could barely make out what she'd said.
Daisy smelled of sugar and spices. His hands itched to touch her. He wanted to bury his face in her honey-colored hair right after undoing her bun. Then, after plowing his hands in her hair, kiss her dizzy until they both couldn't stand. She'd barely given him a taste, and Sam already wanted more.
"Why not? They see it on television, on billboards, in magazines. And honestly, most kids know better than to try to buy alcohol."
"You'd think that, wouldn't you?” she demanded, her eyes flashing. Sam stepped back, shocked at their intensity. “You'd like to believe that people wouldn't be careless enough to drink and drive, but they are."
"Yes. It's unfortunate that some choose to do that, and very stupid.” He added gravely, “I can't control the decisions people make. I can only hope they make the smart ones for themselves and everyone else around them.” Sam felt at a loss for what to do, so he gently touched her shoulder. “Why does this bother you so much?"
"Have you ever had your heart broken?"
Sam hesitated, not certain of why she was asking him this. “I've been hurt, yes."
He'd never seen anyone so shaken by his advertisements and so determined to have them removed. “Then imagine having your heart split in two by someone who doesn't even acknowledge their actions, who just goes about their business like nothing happened, after they took something from you that you can't ever get back-that's lost to you forever.” Sam saw the sheen of tears she tried to blink back, as her breath hitched. “You lose something so dear to your heart, while they lose nothing. They don't give a damn about what they've done to you. It's just not fair, not right at all."
* * * *
Daisy closed her eyes to block out the many images flooding her. She had been only eleven when her parents were killed by a drunk driver. Their deaths had been splashed all over the local news, making Daisy and her siblings almost celebrities. The three Porter children, orphaned so young, their parent's lives cruelly taken in a matter of seconds, with the oldest forced to carry the weight of raising the two girls all on his own.
The media had gobbled it up, washing it down with the trial, conviction, and sentencing of the teenager who had swigged some beer and lost control of his parents’ van.
Meeting Sam brought all the painful memories to the surface. Daisy knew, rationally, that it hadn't been the alcohol that had killed her parents, but it was a big factor in their deaths. Sam's flyers brought back so much—so much that she'd tried to forget years ago.
She forced herself to shrug off his touch, along with the concern that came with it.
"Okay, so you want to tell me why you are dead set against me and my business?” Sam asked softly as he moved in closer. Daisy took a step back off the curb. A horn beeped as a car sped past. Sam grabbed her, pulling Daisy's side close against his chest.
She hesitated as she stood pressed alongside him, the heat and friction created by her clothes and his sent a chill of awareness through Daisy. She leaned unconsciously into him, her nipples growing tight and sensitive against her lace-fringed bra. Good thing she still held the boxes in front of her chest. At least he couldn't see the effect he had on her.
Daisy couldn't stand this close to him. Not when she could feel his heat and smell him. That soft warmth she'd felt earlier ballooned into a slow, simmering fire that grew hotter by the second.
She blinked and stepped back instead of allowing her mind to wander down the road to Lustville. “Let's just say that I've seen firsthand how alcohol can ruin lives. Kids in this town see enough-rodeo stunts gone bad, divorce, and ... yes, issues with alcohol."
Sam rested his hand on her shoulder. She met his incredulous gaze. “So you think the alcoholic parents and accidents are all my doing? Or rather, my company's doing?” For an instant, she thought she'd seen compassion in his eyes, but it had disappeared. His shoulders stiffened.
"No ... I didn't mean that."
He pulled the cakes from her arms and set them on the front seat of the Porsche. Reaching into his briefcase, he pulled out another flyer. She stood behind him, the paper between them. Daisy didn't want to see another of those damned things again.
Sam held it loosely in front of her. “Did you read the entire thing, or only look at the parts you thought that mattered, and then decide that all of this was unsuitable?” His voice was firm and eyes insistent. “You've had an issue with me hanging my flyers around town from the very beginning, and I think I have a right to know why."
"You don't have to keep shoving it in my face,” Daisy protested, not bothering to look at the paper he held before her. “I know you have a product to sell. That's all you care about."
They were attracting a crowd. People were slowing down to take in the show. The car exhaust and blaring horns hit her senses and went right to her temples where a slow dull throb started to pound, while prying eyes bored into Daisy. “You're making your money, raking in the dough, so what do you care about a few car accidents?"
The expression in his
eyes was impossible to read. “Did you happen to look there at the other big bold print?” Then before Daisy could respond, he continued. “No. I bet you didn't. You didn't give me or my company a chance. You simply decided since I sell alcohol that I'm more poisonous than my product."
Daisy briefly glanced down at the spot he poked at. In huge black print in the top right corner were the words, “Drink responsibly. Be safe, not stupid. Don't drink and drive."
The anger deflated right out of her. Had she missed that part? Had it been there all along, and she'd just overlooked it? In her own defense, she didn't think it was so obvious at first glance. The girl, her boobs, and the beer caught a lot more attention.
Sam watched the fight drain from her. He hated when people judged him. Didn't they think he knew his obligations to the public? Especially to all those who had lost someone to alcohol, or to his customers? Did she believe him to be completely ignorant of the bleak statistics involving teenagers and underage drinking, or drinking in general?
Daisy hadn't been the first to conclude that he didn't give a damn about the safety of the consumer. Normally Sam didn't feel the need to justify himself to anyone, but there was something about Daisy that made it important. He needed to make her understand.
"I've got to get going,” he said. Shoulders slouching, he tossed the flyer carelessly into his car. “We both want a little of Principal Miller's time, so are you coming?” He slumped behind the wheel. Daisy moved slowly to the passenger's side and got in. “I'd request to speak with her first, but sending me packing seems to be your mission, so I'll let you go ahead."
Daisy looked at the cakes in her lap. With her luck they were probably ruined by now. She shrugged defensively. “Yeah, big deal—you have a disclaimer on those things, but do you think anyone ever really notices those? I didn't.” Her eyes narrowed. “First thing I saw were legs, beer, and a pair of knockers that would make any plastic surgeon proud. Besides, if I'm not mistaken, you're required by law to advise against drinking and driving.” She nodded at the mess on the floor. “So good for you. You're doing your duty by your customers. Or trying to, at least."
"Doing ... my ... duty,” Sam emphasized, as the engine turned over. “So you think that's all there is to it?” He pulled out onto the street.
"Why not? What else could there be?"
"You think that just because I sell alcohol that I don't recognize an obligation, a duty to my customers and to society in general? You don't think that I would advise against drinking and driving if I didn't have to?"
"You'd certainly save a lot of money."
"Now that's down right callous. I'm a shrewd businessman, but that's just cold, and totally unfair. My Uncle Slade would've loved you. He was a good ol’ boy, and all about selling the beer, nothing else. I won't tell you how he auditioned girls to model for the ads, because you're a lady. Let's just say his tactics for doing business even made me sick."
After expertly swerving into a parking space, Sam threw the car into neutral. “Not that it's any of your business, but it just so happens that I'm here to talk to the principal about setting up an assembly tomorrow for the kids."
"An assembly? What for?” Daisy felt the bottom of her stomach drop to the floor.
"The Wayback Homecoming Dance is this weekend, isn't it?"
She nodded. “It's the biggest dance other than prom. The kids love it."
"And what do kids do if they think they can get away with it? Or maybe I should be asking what do some kids do if they think they'll get away with it? You, Ms. Porter, strike me as not being like most children. I imagine you were the good one who never got into a lick of trouble while growing up."
His assumption wasn't entirely accurate, Daisy reflected, but it wasn't too far from the truth. She could think of many things kids might do to have fun, but her most prominent ideas involved drinking, driving ... dying.
Sam's sharp gaze studied her in the mirror. “You don't even have to answer my question. You already know what the answer is, don't you?"
"Yes,” she said softly. “Sam, I'm sorry.” Open mouth. Jam in foot. “I had no idea of your intentions."
"Of course you didn't. I don't advertise that.” He shrugged his broad shoulders. “I need to speak to Ms. Miller about the best time to gather everyone together. I want them to hear my speech with plenty of time to absorb the message I'm trying to get across. So that come this weekend, they will hopefully take in what I've said."
Daisy leaned over to place a hand lightly on his forearm. “That's wonderful. Thank you. You're going above and beyond what's required.” Nothing she said could make up for how rudely she'd treated him.
He shook his head sadly. Opening the door, Sam got out of the car. He came around to her side and took the bigger of the two cakes, then handed it back once she was out of the car. “No, it's not,” he replied bitterly. “It's not nearly enough. But I'm doing all I can to make sure the message is heard loud and clear."
He held the door of the school open for her. “I feel like such an ass,” Daisy confided as they headed down the hall. “I feel horrible. I need to make it up to you."
"Don't worry about it.” Sam gave the principal's door three quick wraps. “You're not the first to assume I'm just like my uncle."
As Janis, a tall thin woman with dark hair and eyes shielded by thick glasses, answered the summons, Daisy knew how she'd make it up to him.
* * * *
"Now where to?"
Sam and Daisy left the school, leaving a pleased Principal Miller in her office, more than willing to grant Sam his assembly for the next afternoon.
"To the Dewdrop Inn,” Daisy replied, buckling her seat belt. “I've got a surprise for Katherine."
"I see the gleam in your eye,” Sam said, revealing a dimple at the right side of his mouth as he smiled. “You sure she'll like it?"
"Oh I don't know about Katherine, but I know Max sure will.” Daisy tapped the top of the box in her lap. “I baked his favorite cake. He pops in for a piece at least three times a week. My Wild Wayback chocolate cake can do that to a guy."
"You sound pretty confident,” he observed. “You wouldn't be trying to play matchmaker now, would you?"
"Moi?” Daisy opened her eyes wide, feigning surprise. “Absolutely not. I would never do such an underhanded thing to my dear older brother."
Sam obviously caught onto her sarcasm. “If I were you, I'd hightail it to the next county. He might not appreciate you butting into his personal life."
"That's the beauty of being subtle.” Daisy peered at him from over the box.
The Porsche cruised out onto Main Street. “You don't think he'll catch on?"
"Nope, not Max. He's smart, that's for sure, but he'll think I brought it over for Katherine. She's too polite and well-mannered to turn down a present."
They pulled up at the inn. “Max won't have to bother coming to the bakery to grab a snack. He'll have what he wants all right here. Hopefully that will soon include the lovely innkeeper."
"You're devious,” Sam pointed out, turning off the car.
"I'd like to think of myself as just being concerned for my brother's happiness.” Daisy's eyes widened dramatically. “Why do you have to make it sound bad? I only have his best interests in mind."
Sam shrugged as he took the box from her. “Glad I was an only child. I think I'd go crazy with a nosy sibling or two.” He stepped to her side of the car and opened the door.
"Come on now, darlin', it's not so bad.” She smiled reassuringly. “Sherrie and I only ruined about a dozen of Max's dates while we were growing up. That's all."
A crack of laughter burst from his full lips as Sam placed his hand on her shoulder. “That's all? Poor Max. I don't know how he put up with you and your sister."
She stiffened at his touch, and then forced herself to relax her muscles one at a time as she got out of the car.
"You sure your ankle's alright?"
"Yes. I told you it was fine."
He raised a dark brow at her clipped tone. “What's the matter then? Did I hurt you somehow?"
Yes, you're burning me alive. “No ... no. You haven't hurt me at all.” Daisy shifted her weight from foot to foot. “I'm just a bit clumsy.” She knew her cover-up was lame, and so did he. But Sam didn't press her as they started to walk up the long, curving driveway to the rectangular, closed-in porch.
"What did your parents do when they found out? Max probably demanded your heads on a platter for getting in his way of scoring with a girl. I bet you got into loads of trouble."
Daisy thought back to Max's reaction when she and Sherrie had ruined his dates. They'd been pretty mean to him when all he'd wanted to do was go and have a little fun.
"My parents were dead by then,” Daisy said flatly.
[Back to Table of Contents]
Chapter Five
"Oh.” The silence hung heavy between them as they stood in the driveway of the inn. Was that regret she saw in his eyes for the caustic remark he'd made about Max and scoring? “I'm sorry to hear that."
Daisy looked down at his hand on her shoulder. It didn't move. She felt his fingers almost flex and squeeze in gentle sympathy, but his hand remained, heavy and warm where it rested.
"Don't be.” Daisy once again shrugged off his touch. She felt strangely vacant and cold once his hand was gone.
She knew that Sam wouldn't hurt her. After that first panic attack, she'd realized that. Now his touch made her feel protected and looked after rather than frightened. She knew it was stupid to make such a big deal about something so simple, but it felt nice to finally let someone help her, even with something as minor as carrying a box.
"They've been gone for a long time now. It's been me, Max, and Sherrie on our own. We're our own little family."
Whenever she talked about her parents, Daisy still felt a twinge of sadness at the senselessness of their passing. Her chest still hurt as she thought of her mother's soft laughter and her father's deep, earth-shaking guffaw.
"I have my memories of them that will last a lifetime, and pictures that I'll always cherish."
Delighting Miss Daisy [Wayback Texas Series] Page 3