Leather and Lace

by Jessie Evans

  “Sorry,” Sawyer said with a soft laugh. “I didn’t see you two there.”

  “Uh huh,” the blonde said, her mouth slightly ajar and a glazed look in her eyes.

  “Beautiful morning,” he said, doing his best to be friendly. This might be his temporary hometown soon, and he’d like to get started on the right foot. “Cooler out than I thought it would be.”

  “Mmm hmm.” The blonde nodded numbly.

  “Well, then, I’ll just…head to the coffee shop,” Sawyer said, circling around the woman, having had his fill of awkward encounters for one morning. “Have a good one.”

  He turned and walked away with a rotten feeling in his stomach. He might have to revise his expectations of how enjoyable his stay in Southwest Texas was going to be. So far, the women of Lonesome Point seemed disinterested in him to the point of catatonia.

  If something didn’t change, it looked like his bed was going to be as lonely as the ghost town he’d been sent to restore.

  CHAPTER THREE

  Before Mia’s pulse had the chance to return to normal after having the most stunning man she had ever seen walk into her lingerie shop and ask her out on a date, Tulsi slammed through Lavender and Lace’s front door, looking like she’d seen her grandmother’s ghost.

  “Holy crap.” Tulsi leaned back against the door, pulling her daughter, Clementine, in for a hug. “I think we just saw a movie star. I don’t know what movie he was in, because I don’t watch movies, but he had to be a movie star.”

  Mia’s nose wrinkled. “Tall, brown Stetson, unusually manly forearms?”

  Tulsi nodded. “Yes! Did you see him?”

  “I saw him,” Mia confirmed, gathering the bras she’d been sorting through back into their shipping box. “He asked me out on a date.”

  Tulsi squealed—a girly sound so unlike feet-planted-firmly-in-the-sawdust Tulsi that her six-year-old turned to shoot her mother a surprised look.

  “Sorry, Clem,” Tulsi said, laughing as she smoothed her daughter’s white blond hair from her face. “I’m just so excited for Mia! She’s going out with a movie star!”

  “He’s not a movie star,” Mia said in a stern voice. “And I’m not going out with him.”

  “What?” Tulsi’s excited expression crumpled. “Why not? He seemed nice. I mean, we didn’t really have a conversation, but—”

  “Mama grunted at him,” Clementine said in her signature dry tone, the one that always sounded adorably out of place coming from a six year old. “I thought she was turning into a cavewoman.”

  Mia laughed. “Be nice, turd.”

  “It’s okay, she’s telling the truth. I did grunt.” Tulsi shrugged. “I couldn’t think of what to say. That’s why I never date. I’m too shy to talk to people I haven’t known forever, but you should! You’re sweet and funny and gorgeous and you should go out with that man.”

  “Not happening.” Mia hustled behind the counter, stacking the box of bras back in the pile with the other stock she hadn’t gotten around to unpacking yet. “Let’s talk about something else.”

  “Can I go play in my fort?” Clementine asked, already hedging toward the back room, where Mia had set up a permanent blanket fort filled with toys and books for when her favorite six-year-old came to hang out at the shop.

  “Sure, baby. Give me a goodbye kiss first.” Tulsi leaned down to give Clem a hug and a kiss. “Be extra good for Mia, okay?”

  “I will. I’m always good in the summertime,” Clem said, skipping toward the back room.

  “Yeah, well, good during the school year would be nice, too,” Tulsi called after her daughter. “You’ve got Mrs. Grier for first grade, and she eats troublemakers for breakfast.”

  Clementine laughed the laugh of a child who has absolutely no fear of adults, teachers, large hairy spiders, or anything else, and disappeared through the curtain into the back room.

  “Mrs. Grier.” Mia winced. “Remember that time she made me sit on the carpet for a week because I wouldn’t keep my front chair legs on the floor?”

  “I know.” Tulsi shook her head with a sigh. “Clem’s going to have to take the sass down a few notches, or she’s in for a rude awakening.”

  Mia chuckled. “Probably, but I have to admit I like her sass. She’s got personality.”

  “That’s for sure.” Tulsi gazed toward the back room with a fond smile before turning back to Mia, and adding in a more serious tone. “Speaking of people with personality, why are you so determined to hide your light under a bushel? Enough is enough, Mia. It’s been a year. You have to get back on the horse sooner or later.”

  “I’ve given up horses,” Mia said, fighting the urge to grin when Tulsi—a hardcore horsewoman, who would spend every moment of every day in the saddle if she could—gasped in dismay.

  “That’s a horrible thing to say.” Tulsi swatted Mia’s bottom as she walked by. “Somewhere a horse fairy just lost its wings.”

  Mia started up the stairs to her apartment. “I don’t believe in horse fairies.”

  “I don’t believe in looking gift horses in the mouth,” Tulsi countered. “Let me watch the shop while you go run and get a coffee and tell that man you’ll go out with him. He said he was headed to the coffee shop. He’s probably still there.”

  “No!” Mia shouted over her shoulder as she dug through her tiny closet. “You have to get to work.”

  “I can be a few minutes late,” Tulsi shouted back. “Come on, you have nothing to lose. If you can’t stand the guy, it’s not like he’s local, and you’ll have to run into him around town forever.”

  Mia didn’t reward her meddling best friend with an answer. She tugged on her favorite brown jeans—the beaten in pair that were nearly as comfortable as pajamas—and paired them with a peach tank top. She added a watercolor silk scarf around her neck, ran curl-cream-covered fingers through her hair, smoothed on lip-gloss and mascara, and was down the stairs less than five minutes later, ready for a fresh start to her day.

  A fresh start with no insanely handsome men in it. Just the way she liked it.

  “I’m serious.” Tulsi was perched on top of the counter, scrolling through something on her phone, but looked up when Mia thumped down the stairs. “My first client isn’t for an hour. I was going to do some cleaning up around the barn first, but that can wait until I’m finished for the day.”

  Mia shook her head, trying not to let her irritation show. Tulsi had been one of her best friends forever, but her skin wasn’t as thick as Bubba’s or Ross’s. Tulsi’s sass was only skin deep. Beneath the surface, Tulsi was a shy soul, who felt things more deeply than anyone Mia had ever met. If Mia lost her temper, Tulsi would get her feelings hurt, and there was nothing sadder than Tulsi’s eyes when she was sad. It had been seeing those big blue eyes filled with tears on the first day of kindergarten twenty years ago that had put them on the road to friendship in the first place.

  Three other girls had been teasing Tulsi, the shortest kid in class, about being too babyish for kindergarten. Mia, the tallest kid in class, had put a stop to that with a promise to rearrange the face of anyone who messed with her new friend. Mia was a tomboy with a tough older brother, and even at five years of age had been capable of making threats in a way that made people pay attention. Tulsi’s tormentors had scattered, Mia had given Tulsi a hug and the bottom of her tee shirt to use as a makeshift tissue, and they’d been friends ever since.

  They’d been through thick and thin and were as close as sisters, but Mia wasn’t going to let anyone—even Tulsi—bully her into breaking the promise she’d made to herself.

  “Thanks, but no thanks,” she said. “Now get going. Go make some kids happy.”

  Tulsi sighed as she hopped off the counter. “Okay, but I’m not giving up on this. You deserve to be happy, too, you know.” She paused, looking up at Mia with so much compassion it made Mia’s throat tight. “None of what happened in Los Angeles is your fault. Not even a little bit. I hope you know that.”

 
Mia nodded, but didn’t say a word. After her first few days back in Lonesome Point—when she’d been so devastated all she could do was huddle in her childhood bedroom with the covers pulled up over her head, and confide every horrible detail of her nasty break up with Paul, in between bouts of tears and epic naps that felt like she’d slipped into a coma—she had done her best not to talk about her ex.

  Now, she wished she’d never opened her mouth.

  Growing up in Lonesome Point, she’d had a reputation as a prankster, a tomboy who was always ready for a laugh, but people had known not to mess with her, too. It wasn’t just because her older brother, Pike, had been a town hero for years before he was signed to play pro ball for the St. Louis Cardinals and became a town legend. It was because Mia had exuded an inherent strength. She had been raised by a strong woman and the man who loved her, and been taught from an early age to respect herself and demand respect from others. Hell, if they’d had the category in the high school senior’s “Who’s Who,” Mia would have been voted Girl Least Likely to Become a Victim.

  But then she’d fallen in love, and everything had changed.

  Logically, she knew that her relationship with Paul had been unhealthy, and that not every love affair had to end in tragedy, but logic wasn’t enough to put it all behind her. The wounds were still raw, and the memory of what it felt like to be powerless and afraid was too fresh for her to risk a repeat performance, especially not with a man who could snap her in two with his bare hands. At least with Paul, she’d had a fighting chance. That night, when he’d come through her bedroom window, the fact that he’d only had twenty pounds on her, instead of sixty or seventy, had made all the difference.

  Mia swallowed, ignoring the wave of panic the memory sent coursing through her, even now, a year, and a thousand miles, from the scene of the crime. She never wanted to be a victim again. Her family’s curse had made her vow never to get married, but it was the woman she’d been with Paul—that woman who craved his approval so much she’d allowed herself to be walled away from the world with a person who made her cry as often as he made her laugh—that had made her swear off love.

  “I don’t want to upset you, Mia,” Tulsi said, as attuned to her friend’s emotions as she always was. “But all of us are worried. Me and Bubba, even Ross, and you know he doesn’t worry about much if it doesn’t involve beer or nachos.”

  Mia smiled, but didn’t trust her voice not to tremble if she spoke.

  “What you went through is serious stuff.” Tulsi put a hand on her arm and gave a squeeze. “There’s no shame in not being able to put that behind you on your own. There are people who can help, you know. The woman who brings my equine therapy kids over on Wednesdays is a trauma therapist, and super nice. She might be worth talking to. I could ask her for a card if you want.”

  Mia shook her head. “Thanks, but no. I’m fine.”

  Tulsi lifted a skeptical brow.

  “Or I will be,” Mia added. “Just…give me a little more time, okay?”

  Tulsi’s lips thinned, but she didn’t respond. For a moment, Mia thought her friend was going to let the subject drop, but she should have known that wasn’t the kind of morning she was having.

  “You’ve had enough time.” Tulsi propped her hands on her narrow hips. “Every day you spend hiding because of what happened with Paul is a day that creep wins, and you’re better than that, Mia. You’re stronger, and I hate to see you sticking your head in the sand while life rushes by without you.”

  Mia blinked, so surprised by Tulsi’s uncharacteristic toughness that she couldn’t even lift her arms to return Tulsi’s hug when her friend pulled her in for a quick squeeze before heading to the door.

  “Call me if Clementine needs a reminder to be on her best manners,” Tulsi said as she backed away. “I’ll have my cell with me. And Clem has money for lunch in her back pocket, but don’t let her get a cheeseburger. We’re going over to my parents’ tonight to grill for Dad’s birthday, and I don’t want her having too much red meat in one day.”

  “There’s no such thing,” Mia said, before adding in a softer tone. “I love you, Tulsi.”

  Tulsi paused at the door, a gentle smile curving her lips. “I love you, too. And that’s the only reason I said any of that, you know. Because I love you too much to keep my mouth shut.”

  Mia nodded and lifted a hand to wiggle her fingers. “Have a good day. And don’t worry about anything. Clem and I will have fun, and stay out of trouble.”

  “Good to hear. With you two, that’s never a given.” Tulsi started out the door, but stopped at the last minute to stick her head back inside the shop. “That reminds me! Lulu is crazy worked up about the panties on her gnomes. You should have heard her at church yesterday. She kept trying to get me to admit that I knew who’d done it, but I didn’t say a word.”

  Mia gave her two thumbs up. “You’re a true friend.”

  Tulsi grinned. “I am. But you should give Lulu a break for a few months. Her face was so red I thought she was going to give herself a stroke.”

  “Sorry I missed that,” Mia says. “I don’t suppose she suspects I’m the Panty Bandit.”

  “Does a bear shit in the woods?” Tulsi winked, making Mia laugh as she waved goodbye and Tulsi stepped through the door.

  But Mia’s laughter faded quickly, and her heart felt strangely heavy as she flipped the “Closed” sign to “Open.” Opening the shop was usually one of the highlights of her day. She loved her work—chatting with customers, and finding the right fit for someone who’d wrestled with the wrong bra for a decade or more. She enjoyed the bustle of the streets outside when the town was filled with tourists, and the excellent people-watching available out her front window. But for some reason, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Tulsi had said…about Paul winning.

  Mia had been raised by Miss Southwest Texas 1982, and a man who’d built a successful hunting ranch on property everyone swore would never be worth a dime. Her mother and father were winners. They’d taught their children how to lose gracefully, but no one in the Sherman family enjoyed admitting defeat. Mia’s big brother, Pike, was the best baseball player Lonesome Point had ever seen, and Mia had earned straight A’s from the moment she’d entered grade school until the day she graduated with her master’s degree in business. Even when she was going through hell with her ex, she’d never let her studies suffer.

  Mia didn’t like to lose. She disliked it so much, that for a moment she considered grabbing Clementine from the back room, hanging her “Be Back in Ten Minutes” sign on the door, and marching down the street to Brew You to tell Sawyer she’d take him up on that offer to do dinner, after all.

  But in the end, she made a cup of tea, asked Clementine what kind of music she wanted to listen to today—the They Might Be Giants channel on Pandora, as usual—and settled in to crunch numbers before business picked up closer to lunch. She wasn’t ready to dive into the deep end of the dating pool with a man like Sawyer. A man with magnetic hazel eyes and the body of a gladiator, who smelled like a little piece of heaven, kissed like a sexy beast, and was sweet enough to say he was up for being friends and actually sound like he meant it. Sawyer was the kind of man who could get under your skin in a hurry, and Mia wasn’t ready for that, not by a long shot.

  But maybe she could be open to the possibility of dating again, on a low-key basis. She wasn’t going to go hunting for Mr. Right Now, but she promised herself she would be open to any male surprises fate might have in store. She told herself she was pleased with her decision, but as the day wore on, she couldn’t keep her thoughts from drifting to a certain pair of cello-shaped lips, or a pair of unreasonably manly forearms.

  Logic was all well and good, but sometimes a woman’s libido has a mind of its own.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Mia’s day improved until approximately three fifteen in the afternoon, when everything went downhill fast, proving that if a day starts off badly, you should just go back to bed and stay the
re. But, unfortunately, when Mia’s grandmother called as Mia was checking out an older woman who had bought a scandalous number of lace panties, as well as three stuffed ghost town dolls for the grandkids back at the hotel, Mia had no idea Gram’s chirpy ringtone signaled certain doom.

  “What’s up, sugar britches?” Mia asked as she answered the phone, grinning when her gram made an offended, huffing noise.

  “Really, Mia. If I didn’t know your mother had tried her best, I would think you’d been raised in a whorehouse.”

  “Aw, Gram. You’re sweet.”

  “With a nickname like sugar britches, I oughta be,” she said, making Mia laugh.

  “Damn straight.” Mia waved as Tulsi stepped back through the front door, covered in dust from the barn. “Clementine, your mom’s here!”

  “Coming!” Clem cried, at the same time Mia’s grandmother said—

  “Oh, say hi to Tulsi for me. That poor, sweet girl.”

  Mia rolled her eyes, but obliged. “Gram says hi, Tulsi.”

  Gram had had a soft spot for Tulsi ever since Tulsi returned home the autumn after her senior year of high school with a bun in the oven, and no baby daddy on the scene. Tulsi never said much about Kyle, the summer fling who had ended things when Tulsi found out she was pregnant, but Gram loathed the boy in Tulsi’s honor, and had nothing but sympathy for her honorary grandchild. While the other older women in town were clucking their tongues disapprovingly at unmarried Tulsi’s belly, Gram had paid Tulsi’s medical bills, and thrown her the most lavish baby shower Lonesome Point had seen in years.

  Mia loved her Gram for her generous spirit and good heart, but Tulsi was hardly a “poor girl” anymore. She was a woman with a beautiful daughter, and a thriving equine therapy business. But no matter how forward thinking Gram was for her age, she was still from a time when women believed being a single mother was a scandal a person could never quite live down.