A Perfect Dilemma

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A Perfect Dilemma Page 11

by Zoe Dawson


  “My uncle,” I said by explanation. “I haven’t seen him in a while.”

  He turned at the sound of Evie’s car. The moment the car came to a stop, I was out the door. I ran at him and he dropped his suitcase to catch me. “Uncle Win!” I said, kissing and hugging him hard. He hugged me just as hard.

  When I turned, Evie was standing there holding one of the boxes. For a moment my uncle stared, then he rushed forward and took the box out of her hands.

  “Winchester, but most people call me Win,” he said with the loopiest smile on his face.

  “Evie,” she said and extended her hand. He clasped it and held it for longer than the usual handshake. Evie blushed and gave him a winsome smile. She reached in and pulled out the other two boxes and handed them to my uncle.

  “Thanks for bringing me home,” I said to her.

  “Anytime, cher,” she said, while she and my uncle still stared at each other. Then she seemed to snap out of it and got back in the car. She waved as she drove off.

  “What’s her last name, River?”

  “Outlaw.”

  “Outlaw? The trips’ momma? I had no idea she was so…lovely.”

  I set the boxes on one of the rockers and wrapped my arms around my favorite uncle again. “What are you doing here?”

  “Visitin’ for a spell. I missed you.”

  “I missed you, too, so much,” I said squeezing him again. “If you and I didn’t live our lives like vagabonds, I would get to see you more.”

  “That may be changing, darlin’. I’m considering a position in Lafayette to be closer to home.”

  “Really? That would be great!” I noticed the curtains in the front window move and Earl peering out. Geez. He was really starting to creep me out. I remembered I thought I saw him at Outlaws, but I’m sure it must have been my imagination. “I’ve never stopped hoping you’d settle here in Suttontowne.” I grimaced. “I’m going to have to miss dinner.”

  He looked crestfallen. “Aw, darlin’, too bad. Let me look at you.” He slipped his fingers under my chin and his eyes zoomed in on my nose. “You been wrestling gators?”

  I chuckled. “Almost,” I replied. Braxton was as dangerous as a gator. “I just fell. It could have been worse.” I looked at my watch. “I’ve got to go. I’ve got a date with some amazing food…crab cakes and Cajun egg rolls.”

  “Cajun egg rolls. Sounds different and interesting, served with what?”

  I searched my memory for what Brax had said. “Jezebel sauce and dirty rice.”

  “Where is this epicurean establishment?”

  “Here. It’s called Outlaws. It’s located right before you head out of town.”

  “The bar I passed….”

  “I’ve got to run. But, yes, the bar.”

  “Fishin’ later, darlin’”

  “You’re on,” I said over my shoulder as I gathered up my treasures and ran into the house and up the stairs. I could tell by the aromas dinner would be served soon. I passed Earl and he gave me a curious look as I headed straight to my room, set the boxes on my bed, and jumped into the shower.

  As soon as I finished drying my hair, I came out of my room and ran straight into my momma. She opened her mouth to chastise me, then peered at me. “Oh, my God. What happened to your nose?”

  “I fell.” I said, my tone shutting down any further discussion. “I’ve got to go, Momma.”

  I went to brush by her, but she grabbed my arm. “What? Where?”

  “Out to dinner.”

  My momma’s perfectly painted mouth pressed into a tight line. “It would be common courtesy to call and let us know you wouldn’t be sitting down to dinner with us. Your uncle is here. What do you mean you fell?”

  “I tripped on some stairs and fell. I’m fine, Momma.”

  I tried to go around her but she tightened her hold.

  She gave me one of those looks saying she was well aware I was holding back details. But there was no way I was discussing Braxton or my speech. Luckily she wasn’t even interested enough to ask about the boxes on my bed. If it didn’t involve my fashion career or a beauty pageant, she wasn’t interested. She was the same way about my art. The half-finished painting on the easel near my window beckoned me. “River Pearl, have you submitted your application?”

  I grimaced. “I’m still writing my essay,” I fudged.

  Her eyes narrowed. “Are you?” she said with skepticism. “Your agent called me about an hour ago. She says you haven’t returned her calls. What is this about the Runway My Way show you’ve been asked to host? You haven’t mentioned a thing.”

  I hadn’t told her because I wasn’t sure I wanted to move to California and host a television show. “I’m on vacation, Momma. I’m not interested in dealing with any business until September. It’s only another month.”

  “Are you sure that’s all it is?”

  “Yes,” I said.

  I slipped out of her grip and hurried out of the room. “I don’t want to be late.”

  I could feel my momma’s eyes boring into my back. No way would I tell her I was on my way to Outlaws to have dinner with Braxton. I felt giddy. I could hardly wait to tell him what I’d learned about Duel.

  I had forgotten my car wasn’t running until the moment I started it. It turned right over, and I silently blessed Jake for being such a good brother and replacing my spark plugs. I put the top down on the Mercedes, in the mood to have the wind blow through my hair. It was so darned hot, but I was feeling so completely wonderful and free I couldn’t resist. I would be glowing by the time I got there. Hell, I was already glowing inside. I might as well glow on the outside, too.

  I pulled into the crushed shell lot and needed quite a few minutes to find a parking spot. Finally someone was leaving as I came around for the third time. I slid into the empty space and walked briskly towards the bar.

  Once there, it was only a moment before one of the waiters came over. “Miz Sutton. We’re expecting you. Please follow me.”

  I sat.

  “Can I get you anything to drink?”

  “Sweet tea. Thank you.”

  After a few moments, the waiter brought the tea. I expected he would have told Brax I was here. When the waiter came back with my order and to fill my tea glass, I said, “Did you let Braxton know I’m here?”

  He looked at me blankly. “I’m sorry, but Mr. Outlaw left half an hour ago, after most of the dinner rush was over.”

  For a moment I just sat there, trying to breathe. He’d left? What? “Thank you,” I said numbly, with my international smile in place. The one I used to mask whatever emotional meltdown I was having at the time. It’s how I handled my nervousness at pageants when I’d been a little girl. Just smile through it, my momma would say.

  Disappointment twisted like thorns in my stomach and I lost my appetite. Braxton had gone to Becky. Somehow he had changed his mind about me. I’d believed, truly believed, we had made a connection today. But I was obviously wrong. A bitter pill to swallow. Nevertheless, I nibbled on the crab cakes and the egg rolls, the food as delicious as I’d expected, but I didn’t have the heart for it.

  I left ten minutes later. When I got back to my car, I put up the cover and turned on the air conditioning. The backs of my eyelids felt hot with unshed tears, but I didn’t release them. I couldn’t. They were trapped in my throat and in my chest. Trapped like my crush on Braxton.

  When I got home I went up to my room, grabbed the sketch pad and a sharpened pencil, and went out to the front porch. Settling in a rocker, I flipped to a clean page and started to draw.

  When Jake came out and handed me a glass of iced tea and saw what I was doing, he sighed. “Really, River.”

  “Shush up, Jake,” I said. After a moment, I looked at him. “Thanks for fixing my car.”

  He took a sip of tea. “You’re welcome.”

  I looked back down at the paper with the beginnings of Braxton’s face and held back those damn hovering tears.

  Chapt
er Eight

  Braxton

  Becky answered the door only seconds after I knocked. As soon as it closed, she threw her arms around my neck and practically inhaled me. It wasn’t long before we got our clothes off and I fucked her hard. Afterwards, she lay next to me.

  “What’s wrong?” she said, clearly knowing something was up.

  “Nothing,” I said, pushing back the covers and getting out of bed. I dressed and headed for the door.

  “Oh, shit,” she said, “You’re not coming back. Are you?”

  I stopped. Using her as a surrogate wasn’t fulfilling now I’d been close to River. “Why would you say that?”

  “I saw the way you looked at River Pearl Sutton. I’m not naïve. We both know what we have here. I’m not your girlfriend and we don’t date. We just take care of each other’s physical needs.” She gave me a wry smile.

  “I don’t know if I’ll be back,” I said and pulled the door open, then paused. “No, that’s a lie. I won’t be back, Becky. I’m done.”

  “You are crazy if you think you have a chance with her. But good luck anyway, Brax. It’s been fun,” she said faintly as I closed the door behind me.

  Back at Outlaws, I found out I’d missed her. She’d come in while I was gone, but I couldn’t wait to break it off with Becky. I hadn’t even known that’s what I was going to do until I got there and found the sex unfulfilling. I couldn’t feign interest in her with River swamping my senses.

  “Go, Brax. It’s been a long day. We’ll take care of it,” Jackie said.

  “I knew there was a reason I hired you.”

  I went home, parked my truck in the garage, and went into the house. I pulled out my cell and looked at the face. A quick call to Aubree or Verity would get me her number. I stood in the dark foyer, temptation dark on me. I closed my eyes and tossed the phone onto the couch. I moved toward the deck, snatching up my fiddle as I passed the stand. Opening the door, I stepped out into the sultry night. Tucking the instrument under my chin, I set the bow to the strings and pulled out the first few notes of the song.

  As the music cascaded out into the night, the song haunting me for years poured out, as it had every night since I’d written it.

  The slow ballad was one of the first songs I had ever written. For her. I’d written a second one. For us. For the three of us Outlaws and our adolescent yearnings. I never expected there would be a day we would ever sing them. But it was all I had, and it gave me comfort when there was nothing but anger. Music filled the space when the anger emptied out of me and the punching bag wasn’t enough.

  I closed my eyes and let the notes flow up from the place where my music lived, where it was born and thrived like something alive and growing.

  Why did she have to come back? Why did she have to come back and show me who she was? Get into my head and my heart and take me to a place I couldn’t go? As the last notes died, I stood on the deck, throbbing with raw need.

  “Brax,” Boone’s voice was low and filled with sympathy. I closed my eyes against the compassion in his voice.

  “What the fuck you doing here?”

  “We feel what you feel man, and it’s the heaviest tripdar signal I think we’ve ever gotten,” Booker said. “We know when you need us.”

  “I don’t need anything, just some sleep.” I said, my heart feeling so squeezed, I didn’t know what to do. I’d always been able to handle seeing her and keep the wanting under wraps. But I couldn’t hide it from my brothers, who were so close to me it was stupid to even try to convince them she didn’t affect me.

  But she did. Everything I had vowed was in shambles. Everything I’d said I would never do to her, with her, I had already done. I’d hurt her. I’d made her cry, and I wasn’t naïve enough to think this was the first time. Or the last. While I ached and thrashed and hungered for her, I knew in my heart she cried over me. More than once.

  But all of it had been at a distance, and she had been at a distance. Now she was close, and this summer she had come closer, since she was Verity and Aubree’s friend, and we’d been thrown together too many times.

  And when I hungered for her, when the feeling was too overwhelming, I fucked another woman, one who didn’t expect anything, who didn’t need anything but sex from me. Who either loved my bad boy rep or wanted to walk on the dark side. I didn’t date. Had never brought a woman to my house. Never had one in my bed.

  But now. Now, right goddamned now, I wanted River Pearl in my bed.

  For some reason, ever since I had chased her down the road outside my house, tended to her, gotten kicked in the balls, and seen the way she looked at me with those teary, bruised eyes, a switch had flipped on, and I didn’t know how to flip it off. She had watched while Becky put her hands and mouth all over me, and I’d felt like I was cheating on her. Wishing it could have been her.

  Booker took a step forward, and the fiddle slid down from my shoulder, the bow followed, and I felt very, very tired.

  Booker took the instrument and Boone the bow.

  “We know when you need us. We can just sit here if you want. I’ll grab some beers,” Boone took the fiddle from Booker and headed toward the house. I looked at Booker.

  “You two huckleberries aren’t going to give me a moment’s peace. It’ll pass. She’s gone in a month. Then I’ll get back to normal.”

  “Will you?”

  “Yeah, I have to.”

  “Why?” Boone asked as he came out of the house and tossed each of us an ice cold can. I sat down on the steps and popped the top.

  “I have my reasons.”

  “So you say.”

  “You’ve always been a close-mouthed bastard. You know we’d never judge you.”

  “I know.”

  “You know what I think?” Boone said, standing up. “I think you want to kiss her.”

  “Oh, no,” Booker said, dropping his head into his hand. “No, Boone.”

  “Oh, yes, I think so.”

  I sat there, and despite my misery, I smirked. “I’ll knock you flat, Boone.”

  “But you want to.”

  When the first line of the “Kiss the Girl” song came out of his mouth, I groaned.

  Booker laughed under his breath. “Boone, you ass.”

  But Boone was getting into the song and doing the sha-la-las and dancing around in a circle as if he was shaking maracas.

  “I’m going to kill him, Book.” Even though I was hurting over River Pearl, something loosened up in me. My brother was such an idiot. I know what he was doing.

  Booker stood up, and I groaned when he joined in. “You traitor.”

  Boone’s deep baritone changed to a Jamaican accent, and when he sang about the silent girl in the song, I snorted. Definitely not River Pearl.

  “You guys, shut the fuck up.” But what they were singing was nothing short of the truth. I wanted to kiss her. My yearning had lasted too many damn years, and if it wasn’t for the damn kiss at the barbeque, I might have been able to whittle the yearning down to nothing. Yeah, keep telling yourself. You might even believe it someday.

  The two of them really got into it, even coming close and making kissy noises as they puckered up, urging me with the lyrics of the song. Boone’s range was amazing. He so easily handled the high notes in his comical way. I snorted again.

  I jumped off the stairs, but it didn’t deter them. They split up, so I went after the instigator, who kept dodging my open-handed cuffs, laughing while he kept singing.

  Booker made kissing noises, then doubled over, whooping, and finally gave up even trying to sing because he was laughing too hard to breathe. An overwhelming affection came over me as I grabbed Boone around the neck and wrestled him to the ground, but he didn’t stop singing.

  Booker came over and jumped into the melee until we were all jumbled up and laughing our asses off.

  #

  River Pearl

  After I’d finished breakfast with Jake, Earl and my momma on the patio, I got a call from Maizy
White.

  “Hello, dear. I was wondering if you’d be free to come to Lafayette today and tour the school I was talking about.”

  “Of course, I’d love to.” I couldn’t turn her down, even though I wanted to get back to Brax’s ancestor’s documents. I was going to Lafayette anyway to check out Art Explosion. I could kill two birds with one stone.

  I felt angry and hurt all over again about him standing me up yesterday. I should have known better. He was more interested in screwing Becky Howe than eating dinner with me. He was a jerk and I should forget him. I should, but I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about him.

  My momma glanced at me and I whispered Maizy White. She nodded, giving me her blessing. I disconnected the call and went upstairs to change out of my jammies. After a quick shower and getting dressed, I was in my car and heading toward Lafayette in half an hour.

  Maizy White was a wealthy patron of the arts, her husband had passed about a year ago, and she’d taken over his enormous wealth and the foundation he’d begun and nurtured for most of his life. Momma had said Maizy wasn’t in good health herself. She was pushing eighty at least. It was especially sad she’d lost her husband, since they were so close.

  I pulled up in front of her pretty mansion with its Greek revival and Victorian architecture, wrought iron, and colorful garden. I had stopped at Art Explosion and signed up to do a workshop in the fall. I decided I would make the time out of my schedule to do something that gave me such joy.

  I got out and walked up the path just as a limo pulled to the curb. A chauffeur got out and motioned me to the car. I changed directions, and when he opened the door, I saw Maizy was already inside.

  “Hello, Miz White.”

  “Oh, call me Maizy,” she said with a dismissive wave.

  As soon as I was settled and the driver was back in the car, we took off.

  “Oh, dear what happened to your nose?”

  I had tried to cover the ugly black and blue bruise bracketing my nose. But when Jake saw me this morning, I had to work hard to convince him I had truly fallen. I could only pray no one told him I had been with Braxton.

 

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