by Maddie James
Lilly couldn’t believe she had asked again. But she had to know. Maybe knowing he was just a regular Joe would knock some sense into the brain that had deserted her.
Suzie took her hand and pulled her over to sit on the side of the bed, facing her with one knee bent up on the bed’s edge. Lilly assumed the same position. “Okay. I don’t have much time because Mrs. Hertz will probably burn my kitchen down for spite, so here goes:
“His name is Jim. James actually. Hood. He’s known personally by every member of Legend’s community. He was a star football player that took the Legend Dragons to the National Championship his senior year of high school. Once he graduated he was offered a full scholarship from so many colleges it was ridiculous. He stayed here and played for Tennessee because Jim is at heart a hometown boy. He finished college with a degree even though the NFL tried to draft him every year. Once out of college he played professionally, but only for a couple of years.”
Lilly shook her head. No regular Joe here. Great. “Why did he quit?”
“Coach Prosper was retiring and the school board offered Jim the position of head coach. He snapped it up. It brought him home again and coaching those kids is his passion. They idolize him.”
“Wow.”
Suzie grinned. “Yeah, and that’s just his past. I’ve got to get back to the kitchen. We’ll talk more later. But come on back down and meet him. He’s a good guy.”
Lilly declined and stayed up in her room thinking over all the information Suzie had shared. This was the living legend Suzie had mentioned before. He fit the moniker nicely. But that still didn’t explain her reaction to him.
Chemistry?
Lust?
Maybe both?
Lilly giggled then covered her mouth. She never giggled. But she had never felt so young and wildly alive. She felt buzzed. Jazzed. A little out of control. She had never felt this way. She giggled again with the joy of it.
But she couldn’t get involved. Could she? After all, she was here to disappear, stay hidden. She couldn’t connect herself with someone so high-profile as Jim Hood. Could she?
No. But….
Everyone deserved to be young once. Her life to this point hadn’t allowed for it. Maybe she should check out this high school football coach, see if he had the same effect on her a second time. See if he was available. Maybe even see if she could manage a casual fling just for the thrill of it.
She’d be careful, and after all, this was Legend. What could happen here? Polly told her she was safe here.
Lilly felt her cheeks flush at the thought. She’d never had a casual fling. She’d never had any kind of fling. And every woman deserved at least one, surely. After all, he was just a man who had been a good, no, great athlete. But that still just made him a man. Well, maybe not just a man. A very sexy man.
Lilly laughed to herself, glad no one could see that she had lost her mind. Yes! She was going to pursue the legend of Legend. All she had to do was figure out how to keep her brain cells functioning while in his presence.
Chapter Thirteen
“Aunt Bertha is drinking the cooking wine again.”
Suzie tossed a glance over her shoulder while slowly stirring the fondue pot full of white cooking wine, a little kirsch—the latter of which she’d purposely kept away from Bertha Hertz—and a mixture of Emmental and Gruyère cheeses. “Precisely why, Sarah Hertz, I generally avoid putting the good stuff out for my cooking classes. Although it pains me to cook with anything but real alcohol, I will not waste expensive liquor on your aunt’s indulgences.”
Why did I think I could tackle two dishes this afternoon? With the cream puffs put to bed, they were now on to fondue. Simple enough, right?
Ugh.
“Harrumph! Nasty stuff!” Bertha replaced the bottle on the counter and toddled away.
Suzie watched Bertha move toward her bedroom, supposing that when one was ninety-nine and holding, one could do whatever one wished.
“Sarah, honey, perhaps Aunt Bertha is ready for her nap. Why don’t you take her back to my bed to doze?”
Always the obedient niece, fifty-year-old Sarah Hertz did just that. After a few minutes, she returned. “Aunt Bertha will sleep like a baby now.”
Suzie swiped her brow with the back of her hand. “Good,” she whispered under her breath.
This cooking class was a disaster waiting to happen. Now that Bertha was safely tucked into bed and out of harm’s way, however, Suzie figured they could get down to business.
“Ladies…and gentleman.” She nodded toward Jim. To his right sat Lilly. And if they didn’t stop sneaking goo-goo-eyed glances, pretending they were avoiding each other, she was going to tell them to just get a room and be done with it.
Why Jim Hood insisted on cooking lessons, she had no clue. Impress his dates? Maybe. Possibly to bug the crap out of me!
Or keep an eye on her. Hm.
Hell, he had been protective of her since Cliff left, but this was ridiculous. Who did he think she needed protection from in her cooking classes?
Her gaze swept the remainder of the group. No one here, that was for certain. Unless it was Bertha.
Finally, she had everyone’s attention, and began. “The fine art of fondue. A great way to use old bread, cheese and leftover wine and a really cool way to impress a date or hubby.” She glanced at Jim again. “Or wife. Spouse, I guess I should say. Of course, most hubbies around here wouldn’t know what to do with a fondue if it hit them in the face on a Tuesday afternoon since it didn’t once stand on all fours, eat grass and moo. But nevertheless, the more cultured of us Legendarians might like to spice up the moment with something new. Hence, fondue.”
Suzie had no earthly idea why she was rattling on.
Several sets of blank eyes stared at her.
“All right!” She shoved the small fondue pots toward her students. “You each have your own pot and can choose the kind of fondue you want to make. You can cook in broth or oil, make cheese fondue like I’ve demonstrated, or do a chocolate desert fondue. The recipes and the ingredients are in front of you. Choose your poison.”
Her students appeared hesitant.
Sarah looked from Suzie to the fondue pot and back to Suzie again. Being a true Libra—and the local astrology guru, sharing her forecasts with anyone who would listen—it would be a while before Sarah made her decision, balancing out her choices. Was she eating meat this week? Or was she on a vegetarian kick again? Hm. Jim and Lilly leaned close together and mumbled over their choices, finally choosing chocolate with lush strawberries for dipping. Suzie should have known. The stuff of love. The Butler’s decided to do cheese.
Par for the course.
“Suzie, one question.”
She turned and smiled. “Sure Jim-boy, what’s up?”
He grinned one of those half-sideways grins that she’d learned long ago meant trouble. Damn. She wasn’t in any mood for this today.
“Well, Ms. Cookie. I just gotta know. What the hell happened to your head?”
Suzie’s right hand flew up to the bump above her right temple. “Oh!” She felt herself turn six shades of crimson. Last thing she needed.
“Oh, silly me. Um. Yesterday, I was doing some planting.” She turned to the rest of the group, “Did you all see my new flowers by the lake side of the house? Well, I got carried away and stepped back on a shovel and well, clumsy old me, it went wonk and hit me upside the head.”
They all continued to stare at her like she had three heads or something. It wasn’t that big of a bump.
“Suzie Schul, you don’t have a clumsy bone in your body.” Jim grinned again. Damn him. Did he know something?
“Well, ha! Yesterday, I guess I did.” She waved him off. “You guys get to work. I’ll float around and will be here if you need any help.” She believed in learning by doing, and wasn’t about to guide these adults step-by-step through the process. Mistakes made were lessons learned, in her book.
And anything to get them off the s
ubject of her head was fine by her.
“Oh, Suzie. Your flame went out under your pot.” Suzie looked toward where Sarah pointed.
“Darn. You’re right.” The little canned flame under the fondue pot had been difficult to light earlier. She guessed it was out of juice.
She rounded the kitchen island and leaned over to inspect the flame. With her lip tucked between her teeth, hands on hips, she rose to assess the situation. “Need my lighter,” she said under her breath. After rummaging around in a nearby utility drawer, she finally found one. Bending again, she pulled the can-o-flame from under the fondue pot and struggled with the snap-snap-snap of the trigger to ignite a flame.
She looked up. All eyes were still on her.
“Never mind about me, y’all, go on with your ingredients. We’ll light your fires in a minute.”
She bent to fiddle once more with the lighter.
“Darn thing.”
She snap-snapped. No luck.
“Mind if I try?”
The voice startled her. She rose to find herself face-to-face with a very nice black T-shirt covered chest—a chest that she knew all too well—and then gazed up into an incredible set of chocolate-colored eyes.
Brad.
“Huh?” She licked her lips.
“Mind if I try lighting your flame?”
Jim guffawed.
Suzie swallowed. “Um.”
Finally, Brad took the lighter out of her hand.
Five pairs of eyes were stuck like glue to her. She could feel it and whipped back around to face them. “Are you all going to make fondue or what?”
Five sets of hands scrambled to grab something in front of them, hastily assembling their ingredients.
“Fondue is the greatest thing.” Brad talked to no one in particular and everyone at the same time while he fiddled with the lighter. Within a few seconds, he’d managed to light the flame, carefully move it back under the fondue pot, and hand the lighter back to Suzie.
“There, that should do it.”
She managed a half-smile. “Um, thanks.”
Brad peered over into the pot of cheese and then picked up a whisk off the counter. “One of the keys to a good fondue,” he began, all eyes on him again, “is in the light whisking of the cheese and wine mixture.” With several rapid flicks of his wrist he managed to whip the cheese and wine into a batter-like consistency. Suzie couldn’t help but take in the sinews of his forearm and wrist and the firm grasp his long fingers had on the whisk.
She swallowed back memories of his hands. Smoothing. Whisking. Laying them on her.
A flush of heat snaked up the sides of her neck and settled on her cheeks. Crimson. She was growing even more crimson, likely. Great.
“Suzette?”
She glanced up. Brad grinned and handed her the whisk. “Um. Oh. Thank you. That demonstration was...um, nice. I’m sure we all will benefit from your hands, er, whisking, er, motions. And, the lighting of the flame thing.”
Brad dipped his head with a devilish grin. “Always ready to light your flame, ma’am.” With a sly wink, he edged out of the room.
Suzie’s jaw dropped.
For a moment, nothing else moved. Then collectively, every woman in the room sighed—long and hard.
On the heels of that collective exhale, Jim released a loud cackle.
“Looks like our Suzie’s got herself a boyfriend.”
She spun toward the man who had been her best friend since childhood. “I do not!”
“Do!”
“Not!”
“Do!”
“Not!”
“Well then tell me, Ms. Cookie, just one thing. That bump on your head have anything to do with the shiner over his left eye? You guys been touching toes or something and get a little frisky?” He belly-laughed as he spat out the words.
Suzie picked up a strawberry and just threw it. She missed his open mouth by a mile.
****
“Bye, now,” Suzie closed the door and laid her head against it. “Dingbat.”
Jim had grown impatient waiting for Suzie to get Mrs. Hertz out the door. The old witch was the last to leave the cooking class by a full ten minutes. “So, who is she?”
Suzie pressed her smile down and lifted her head off the door. “She’s a guest.”
Jim followed her as she flowed, because Suzie had always flowed instead of walked, back to the kitchen. He stood behind the counter and started gathering dirty mixing bowls. “What’s her name?”
Suzie took the bowls from him and turned to the sleek, stainless steel dishwasher. She opened the door and loaded them then turned to take more. “Lilly.”
Jim held the next set of bowls just out of her reach until she was forced to look him in the eyes. “Lilly, what?”
Devils danced in Suzie’s sparkling eyes, now. “Peach.”
He handed over the bowls, but didn’t release them completely. “Where is she from?”
Suzie tugged the bowls from his hand and turned to load them. “You know I never ask my guests personal questions.”
Jim grunted.
“I don’t. They just usually tell me all about themselves anyway. Lilly hasn’t.”
“How long is she booked for?”
Suzie ran water over all the mixing utensils before loading them. Then wet her large sponge to begin washing off the stainless counter. It was obvious she was having a ball stalling. Jim hadn’t expressed this much interest in a woman in a very long time and she was making him suffer. The brat!
“Indefinite.”
Jim reached out and held her hand, sponge and all, hostage against the counter’s top. “Nobody books indefinite. You don’t have that many rooms. What gives, Red?” Jim grinned. Two could play and he knew just how to get her dander up.
“I saw you naked. If you’re interested in my guest, I think you had better think about that.” She started humming the Itsy Bitsy Spider.
Jim laughed and released her. “I was five, moron. I can show you how much I’ve grown if you’re interested. He reached for his belt, started undoing it when Suzie’s gaze shifted past his head, she lifted her brows, snagged her glass of melted-down iced tea, and headed for the sun porch as if the house were on fire.
“So, you guys are either lovers or very old friends.”
Jim bit his bottom lip, grinning down at his unbuckled belt, and turned to face Lilly Peach. He hadn’t heard her approach, and Suzie, being Suzie, was out back laughing her head off at him right now, he was certain. “Old friends might be stretching it. She’s poked at me since we both crawled.”
“Sounds like you know how to poke back.”
Jim watched Lilly slowly walk from the kitchen’s entryway, around the counter, and to the refrigerator where she pulled out a diet drink, popped its top, and leaned her head back for a long, slow drink. She lowered the can to her chest and stared back at him, her eyes, a drown-into deep blue, sparkling with mischief.
Jim swallowed. This was interesting. If he wasn’t mistaken, she was flirting. Testing the waters he reached over and took the can from her hands, gave her enough time to object, and then put it to his mouth, locating the opening without taking his eyes from hers. He took a long swallow and then held it back out to her.
Her nostrils flared. Outright laughter filled her eyes. “You didn’t say, please.”
“I never say please.”
Jim saw his remark hit its mark as her eyes opened wider. But he saw something else, too. Caution. False bravado. Confusion. Uncertainty. Her expressions were an open book. Her reactions, one after another, were intriguing.
He backed off. “I have to get back to work shortly, but I’d like to take you out for a bite afterwards if you’re interested. It would be late, eight-thirtyish.”
She stared at him for several seconds, her expression now neutral, as if she realized how intently he’d studied her and was building walls.
“Okay.”
Jim grinned, delighted with her response, choosing to ign
ore the caution in her voice. “Okay.” He tilted his head towards the open back door. “Tell Red I said bye.”
Chapter Fourteen
As Hollywood actresses go, Jane didn’t think Dawn possessed much star quality in the morning. Dressed in pink silk pajamas, her blond hair tousled, and a decided air of sleepiness in her eyes, she looked more like the sister Jane remembered.
“I don’t know how you can get out of bed so early,” Dawn said passing through the living room into the kitchen.
“The coffee’s hot.”
“I can smell it. Thanks.”
Jane sat on the sofa surrounded by a stack of paperwork, and her calico cat Mickey curled in a ball on a pillow. She picked up her mug of coffee and cupped her hands around it, savoring the spicy cinnamon aroma before she took a sip. She eyed the accounting work. Even though she didn’t have a head for numbers and could use a CPA to help her figure out her balance sheet, she didn’t need one in the family.
Last night she told Steven she wasn’t interested in him or his frequent proposals. Weight lifted from her shoulders after making the break. Why had she waited so long to gather the courage?
No incentive, of course. Not like Graham who sent her head spinning. Jane smiled.
Dawn walked back into the room. “What’s that smile for?” She settled in the over-stuffed chair by the fireplace and drew her long legs up underneath her. “Graham Winchester?”
“Maybe.”
Dawn gazed mildly over the rim of her coffee mug. “After dancing with him, you avoided the man like he was the plague.”
“I had my hands full with Steven.”
“Steven.” Dawn made a face and placed her mug on the coffee table. Drawing her arms over her head, she stretched and then ran her fingers through her hair, rumpling it more.
Dawn oozed sexuality. Jane couldn’t compete in that arena with her sister. Maybe that’s why she became the good student. The English teacher. The old maid.
Her sister was recovering from another divorce. This one quite acrimonious. And she was between jobs. Dawn didn’t say it, but Jane felt her sister needed a break from the limelight.