by Brenda Novak
“Oh.” She giggled in obvious relief and stuck out her hand to shake with Katie. “I’m Chevy.”
“Chevy?” Katie repeated. “You mean like the car?”
“Yeah. It’s just a nickname. My real name is Chevelle.”
“Chevelle’s pretty,” Booker said, then looked pointedly at Katie. “Anything else?”
She blinked. “Hmm?”
“Did you need anything else?”
“Oh…no. Just a salad, that’s all.”
“Fine. You might want to go sit down and get off your feet.”
“Right, in a second.” Katie glanced back at Chevy. “So where are you from?”
“Cedar Ridge. It’s only about fifteen miles from Dundee. I was just telling Booker that I drive out that way all the time to visit my stepfather.”
“What a small world,” Katie said.
“I was thinking I might stop by some time. Booker gave me your address and telephone number.”
“We’d love to have you, wouldn’t we, Kate?” Booker said.
Katie straightened her spine and pasted on another false smile. “You bet.”
CHAPTER EIGHT
KATIE NEVER FELT CLOSER to heaven than when sitting in a cool, dark theatre, eating buttery popcorn and drinking a large, ice-cold Coke. But somehow her movie experience just wasn’t the same tonight. She was wearing her brand-new clothes, which meant she could breathe easily for the first time in a long while. Yet she couldn’t concentrate on the picture.
“You’re not really going to start seeing that woman, are you?” she whispered to Booker.
“What woman?” he responded, his eyes on the screen.
“Chevy.”
He glanced at her. “I don’t let my friends get involved in my love life,” he said. “Even good friends.”
She grimaced at his words. “I’m not getting involved in your love life. I just can’t believe you’re attracted to that…to that—”
“What?”
“You don’t think she’s that pretty, do you?”
Katie was already regretting the fact that she’d let Booker help her shop for industrial-size panties, but her remorse grew by leaps and bounds when he said, “What’s not pretty about her?”
“Well, I know she’s slender and…”
“Friendly,” he supplied.
“Right, and—”
“She has sexy eyes.”
Katie knew how much Booker liked eyes. Eyes, lips and legs, in that order. “She’s all collagen and silicone,” she said.
“And you know this how?”
“I have X-ray vision. What do you think? I’m a beautician. I notice these things.”
“Maybe I don’t have a problem with a little medical enhancement. At least she’s emotionally accessible.”
Emotionally accessible? That phrase hadn’t come from Booker. Dropping her voice because the people behind them were starting to murmur about the noise, Katie said, “How did that come up?”
“She just said so.”
“In the ten minutes you were standing together in line, she told you she was emotionally accessible?”
The man directly behind snapped at them to be quiet, but he improved his attitude considerably the instant Booker turned in his seat and glared. With that scar on his face and his mysterious eyes, Booker didn’t look like anyone to mess with.
“I don’t think she was talking about her emotions when she mentioned she was accessible,” Katie said as he faced front again. “Did she ask you if you carry condoms, too?”
She thought she heard Booker chuckle, but when she opened her mouth to speak again, he nudged her.
“Be quiet. You’re going to get me in a fight.”
“You like fights.”
“I’ve already been in more than my share.”
“That probably goes for beds, too,” she muttered. She was suddenly spoiling for a good argument and hoped Booker would oblige. He didn’t. He gave her one of his crooked grins, which could be sexy or infuriating, depending on the situation. Today it was both, and that bothered Katie more than ever. Since taking up residence with him, she couldn’t seem to regain her center….
She was just out of sorts. Probably because the movie did little to capture her interest. It had a lot of karate stuff going on, and people blowing up cars and bridges and pretty much destroying everything in sight. Booker had chosen it, of course. But she couldn’t complain too loudly. He’d also bought the tickets.
Closing her eyes, she decided to let herself rest, just until her eyes stopped burning.
When she woke up, the movie was over and she had her cheek pressed into the soft cotton covering Booker’s shoulder.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU FELL asleep during that movie,” Booker said when they were nearly home.
Katie covered a yawn. “That good, hmm?”
“It had some of the most awesome fight scenes I’ve ever seen.”
“I’m sorry I missed it.”
She knew he’d picked up on her sarcasm when he looked over. “Okay, next time we’ll see something guaranteed to make us cry. Will that make you happy?”
She didn’t answer. She’d been trying to start an argument earlier, but that impulse seemed to have passed.
“Why so quiet?” he asked after another few miles. “Don’t tell me you’re still tired. You slept through the movie and almost the whole ride home.”
“I’m not tired.” She stretched her legs out to admire her new loafers. “I was just trying to imagine you crying in a movie. Or crying at all, for that matter.”
“Sorry I asked.”
“Has it ever happened?”
“Hell, no. I’m too much of a badass,” he said, but his accompanying scowl was more of a half smile, and she could hear the laughter in his voice.
“Okay, so you have broken down. Tell me about the last time. What did it take?”
He cocked an eyebrow at her. “Hey, I’ve got an idea. Why don’t I poke my finger in my eye instead?”
Katie couldn’t help laughing. “What a baby.”
“You want to probe my deepest pain? Tell me something I want to hear first.”
“Like what?”
He turned down the radio. “Like why it took you two years to leave Andy if he started using right after you arrived in San Francisco. Were you using, too?”
“No.”
“So you put up with Andy as an addict for two years?”
She adjusted her seat belt so it wasn’t pressing against the baby. “I knew I’d made a mistake almost the moment I hit the city,” she said.
“Yet you stayed.”
“I’d made a commitment. I felt responsible for my own bad decision and was determined to make the best of it. And…part of it was pride. I didn’t want to give up and come home with my tail between my legs—like I had to do once I got pregnant.”
Booker opened the ashtray. Katie knew he was looking for a toothpick. When he found it empty, he snapped it closed. “What then?”
“Then I caught him in bed with the stylist from the station next to mine.”
“Not your bed.”
She turned toward the window and watched the snow-drifts, piled high on the side of the road, blur as they drove past. “No, her bed. I stopped by to drop off a tip one of her clients had brought to the salon. It was a big tip, and I knew she’d be excited about it because she needed the money. When I arrived, Andy was there.” She took a deep breath and faced Booker, realizing that this incident seemed to have lost most of its sting. “Needless to say, they were both surprised to see me.”
Booker’s jaw tightened. “You were already pregnant at the time?”
She nodded. “That was a horrible day, but—” she hesitated, examining her feelings “—now I’m kind of glad it happened.”
“You want to explain that?”
She found herself smiling again. “Because it forced me to make a decision. Was I doing my baby any favors by staying with this man? No. He didn’t even w
ant the baby. He kept trying to talk me into getting an abortion so the baby wouldn’t ‘cramp our style.’ So I finally quit trying to make the relationship work and got out.”
Katie listened to the tires on the wet, shiny pavement, astonished at how rarely she thought about Andy anymore. She wondered if that would change once she had the baby as a constant reminder.
“Okay, it’s your turn,” she said.
“My turn for what?”
“You owe me a deep dark secret.”
“What kind of secret?”
“I don’t know…something juicy. How old were you when you lost your virginity?”
“Fifteen.”
“Who was she?”
“My best friend’s mother.”
“What?” Katie supposed this was information she should have already known, but the relationship she’d had with Booker two years ago was so different from what they had now. They’d never really talked before, at least not so honestly.
“She was divorced and bored and wanted to feel desired again, I guess.”
“How did she approach you?” She frowned. “She did approach you, didn’t she? I mean, you didn’t seduce her at fifteen!”
He rolled his eyes. “I didn’t have that much confidence at fifteen,” he said. “She did the seducing.”
“How?” she repeated.
“She’d have Gator invite me over to stay the night, flirt with me, brush up against me whenever possible. I could feel her interest from clear across the room. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what she wanted.”
“Your parents must have been furious when they found out.”
He gave her a funny look. “Are you kidding? They never knew what was going on in my life. They were too busy trying to kill each other.”
“Is your friend’s mother still alive?”
“She was only thirty-something at the time.”
“Then she could’ve gotten pregnant!”
“She was on the pill.”
Katie adjusted her seatbelt again. “Have you had any contact with her recently?”
“Hell no, not for years. And I don’t plan to.”
Katie could easily imagine Booker catching the eye of an older, lonely divorcée. He was a tough kid with parents who didn’t look after him. He’d probably matured early, judging by the five-o’clock shadow that covered his jaw only a few hours after a shave. And, although Katie knew it wasn’t a conscious thing, Booker’s chocolate-colored eyes carried the promise of knowing how to please a woman. Judy at the diner had said it best—he had bedroom eyes.
“Did Gator ever find out?” Katie asked.
Booker slowed as he turned off the highway toward the farmhouse. “God, I hope not.”
“Where is he now?”
“I don’t know. I lost track of him when I went to prison.”
Katie studied his profile. “What was prison like?” She’d never asked him that before, either. She’d purposely avoided any mention of it.
He knitted his fingers over the top of the steering wheel and hunched forward, showing the first sign that he might finally be getting tired after their long day. “Lonely,” he said simply.
“Is that when you cried?”
His eyes briefly met hers before moving back to the road as he continued to dodge the potholes that made this part of the trip so slow after a storm. “No.”
She wanted to press him for details, but as they turned into the farm, their headlights swung across the snow-covered lawn and she saw someone sitting on the porch swing, hunched against the cold.
LEANING FORWARD, KATIE squinted as a boy no older than thirteen or fourteen stood up. Tall and gangly, he had shaggy blond hair and—
“Oh my gosh! It’s Travis,” she said.
She nearly hopped out of the truck before Booker could come to a complete stop, but his hand shot out to grab her. “Hold on,” he said.
As soon as Booker parked, she got out. “Travis, what are you doing here?” she cried, hurrying toward the house.
Her younger brother shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans. The way he held himself, tense and sullen, told her this was not the social visit she’d craved since her return.
“What’s wrong?” she asked when she was close enough to see his troubled face.
His breath misted on the cold night air. “It’s Mom and Dad. I just—” The muscles in his jaw worked, and he pulled his hands out of his pockets and made fists, as though he longed to hit something or someone.
“What?” she said.
“They threw me out of the house.”
“But you’re only fourteen!”
“They don’t care. They don’t care about anyone.”
Booker came up behind her and stood silent, listening.
“What happened?” she asked Travis.
“I got kicked out of school. Again.”
Again? As far as Katie knew, Travis had never been a stellar student. But he’d never been a behavioral problem, either. “For what?”
“For bringing nunchakus to school.”
She felt a moment’s confusion. “Nunchakus?”
“Martial arts weapons,” Booker explained.
“But where did you get them in the first place? There’re no karate instructors in Dundee.”
“I bought them off a kid who moved here from Utah.”
“Oh.” She considered what to say next. “Didn’t you realize they wouldn’t be allowed at school, Travis?”
Her brother shrugged. “I didn’t think it was any big deal. It’s not like I hit somebody with them.”
“That’s good at least.” Katie gave him as much of a hug as he’d allow in his agitated state. “How did you get all the way out here?”
“I thumbed a ride down to the turn-off and walked.”
“Don’t ever thumb a ride. It’s dangerous.”
“Billy Joe and Bobby Westin picked me up,” he said, his tone suggesting that she was overreacting by a wide margin.
Billy Joe and Bobby Westin were pretty harmless most of the time. A couple of good ol’ boys in their thirties, they hung out at the Honky Tonk and had the beer bellies to prove it. “Maybe that wouldn’t be a problem during the day. But Billy Joe and Bobby are usually drunk this late at night,” she said.
“Why didn’t you go into the house?” Booker asked. “Isn’t Delbert home?”
“I guess not,” Travis told him. “I rang the bell, but no one answered.”
“Delbert likes to play pool. He’ll be along.” Booker nodded toward the front door. “Let’s go inside where it’s warm.”
Katie followed her brother and Booker into the house. She was thinking she should probably call her parents, have them come and get Travis, but she didn’t particularly want to talk to them after the way they’d treated her. She knew her brother wasn’t going to be happy with that course of action, either. Only she didn’t have a lot of alternatives. She didn’t have a car to drive him home herself, and she was already a guest in Booker’s house. She couldn’t invite him to stay with her.
“Wow, you really are pregnant,” Travis said, focusing on her stomach the second Booker flipped on the light.
“I’m not that big,” Katie said. From the corner of her eye, she saw Booker grin and thought he mumbled something like “yet,” but Travis drew her attention back to him before she could respond.
“It’s just…I couldn’t picture you…like this,” he said. “Mom and Dad have been bitching about you having a baby for weeks now, but I haven’t seen you once.”
“Bitching, Travis? Don’t talk like that.”
“I didn’t think you were a Goody Two-shoes anymore.”
“I’m the same person I was.”
“Why haven’t you called me?”
“I didn’t want to upset Mom and Dad.”
“Well, you did the right thing. Mom and Dad wouldn’t have let us talk, anyway. They told me I’d be grounded for three weeks if I had any contact with you.”
“They obviously don’t mind any more,” she said. “They’ve practically chased you into my arms.”
“They don’t understand anything.” He peered at Booker as though expecting him to agree with this defiant statement, but Booker said nothing.
“So.” Travis shoved his hands in his pockets and shifted nervously on his feet. “You don’t mind if I stay here tonight, do you?”
Katie refused to look at Booker. “Um…I don’t know…let me…well, you see…” She took a deep breath. “Why don’t you go watch TV in the living room while I talk to Booker?”
“Okay.”
Travis left the kitchen, and Katie waited for the television to go on before braving a glance at Booker. When she finally turned, she found him leaning against the cupboards, his thumbs hooked in the pockets of his jeans.
“I know this doesn’t look good,” she said. “But I think, if we let Travis stay the night, I could probably work things out with my parents in the morning.”
“Because the three of you are so close?” he said, wearing a pained expression.
“No, of course not. But this situation is a little different from mine. I mean, I’m an adult. My parents had every right to turn me away. Travis is only fourteen, and—”
“He can stay,” he said.
“Surely they’ll see that—” Katie had been so busy thinking of what to say next that it took her a moment to realize she didn’t need to say anything at all. She’d already gotten what she wanted.
Booker scooped his keys off the counter. “I’m going into town to see if I can find Delbert. He and Bruiser should’ve come home by now. I’m thinking he might not have been able to get a ride.”
He let Travis stay that easily? And he was going into town after Delbert?
Katie covered her mouth to hide the fact that she was tempted to laugh. She’d always considered Booker so dark and mysterious, so dangerous and unreliable. He was an ex-con. Who would’ve guessed he had a heart too soft to turn anyone away? First Delbert and Bruiser, then her, now her little brother…
He squinted at her suspiciously. “What?”
“Nothing,” she said, but her lips were twitching so badly, she couldn’t hold back any longer. Booker didn’t just let people move in—he took care of them. She thought of the way he’d helped her sell the Cadillac, bargained to get her to go to an obstetrician Rebecca regarded as especially good and had taken her to buy a computer. He was tired, but he was going back out because Delbert and Bruiser weren’t home.