“So tell me, honey,” he said just above a whisper, “what’s got your beautiful eyes so sad?”
A plate of veggies separated his stomach from hers, and she didn’t think to ask why he’d shoved the plate at her. For a few brief moments, she forgot he was a jerk. She was a woman who hadn’t had a decent date in years, and he was a man. An incredibly hot man with a soothing Southern accent that touched the places deep in her soul. The hot itchy places that wanted to be soothed.
Adele’s lips parted, and she took a breath. It would have been easy to unload her problems on his big shoulders.
“Life’s not so bad,” he said.
Showed how much he knew. “My life sucks.”
“Why?”
So many reasons. “My sister is in the hospital fighting for the life of her baby, and it should be her husband holding her hand. Not me.”
Zach lowered his gaze to Adele’s mouth. “Where’s her husband?”
She was so disconcerted by his attention to her mouth that her brain got a little fuzzy, and she blurted, “Off boning Stormy Winter somewhere.”
Confusion wrinkled his brow but he didn’t look up. “Stormy Winter?”
“His girlfriend.”
“Ah.” He slid his brown gaze back up to hers. “Stripper?”
Adele smiled. “His ‘assistant.’”
A door opened, and Zach looked up past Adele. “Shit,” he said through a groan.
“I thought you might need some help,” a female voice said, followed by the click of heels on the stone floor.
Zach returned his gaze to Adele’s and replaced her sunglasses on the bridge of her nose. “Thanks, Genevieve, but I found a helper. You shouldn’t have troubled yourself.”
Behind the lenses of her glasses, Adele closed her eyes. Please God, not Genevieve Brooks.
“It’s no trouble,” Genevieve Brooks assured him as she stepped into the kitchen.
“Why am I holding this plate?” Adele finally thought to ask.
“In just a minute, I’ll need you to carry that outside.” Zach turned and walked back to the refrigerator, and Adele lowered her gaze to the back of his Levi’s. His wallet made a bulge in one pocket, and he bent forward slightly to pull out a big tray of hamburger patties and hot dogs. “You can grab the buns over there on the counter, Genevieve,” he added as he shut the door.
The heels of Genevieve’s pumps tapped across the tile as she moved to the counter. She was as tall and lean as Adele remembered, and she wore a white blouse, beige pants, and cardigan. Probably St. Johns. Several ropes of pearls circled her slim neck, and she wore a diamond the size of a marble on her ring finger. “Those girls are going to be starving,” Genevieve said. She grabbed the buns, then turned to Adele. “Hello. I’m Genevieve Brooks-Marshall. Lauren Marshall is my stepdaughter.” Genevieve’s makeup was understated and perfect, and her black hair was cut into a straight bob.
Adele assumed Lauren was on the dance team. “Kendra Morgan is my niece,” she said.
“One of the new girls?”
Adele nodded as Zach walked past her through the kitchen, and she followed him into the dining room. “I’m obviously interrupting your dinner plans,” she said to his back. “So, if you’ll just show me where to set this, I’ll grab Kendra, and we’ll leave you to your guests.”
He opened one of the French doors, and Adele stepped out onto a terrace. “What was your name?” Genevieve asked as she joined them.
“Adele Harris.” Adele waited for any sort of recognition from the woman with whom she’d gone through twelve years of school, but there was none. Adele wasn’t all that surprised.
Zach closed the door, and the two women followed him down a set of stone steps to the lower terrace and cobblestone courtyard. It was a clear November day, and Adele felt like she’d stepped into a fall issue of Better Homes and Gardens. Beyond the courtyard, sunlight fell on an expanse of pruned gardens, sculpted shrubbery, and a lawn that separated the main house from two smaller dwellings.
To her left, girls from Kendra’s dance team swam and jumped into a full-sized pool enclosed in steamy glass. Adele obviously wasn’t the only late parent.
She followed Zach toward a turbo-sized barbecue set into a stone island and past several tables set with yellow tablecloths. Between the tables were five commercial-grade patio heaters, each warming up the twenty feet around them. Adele set her plate next to a bag of chips and pasta salad on a long table. A man wearing a ball cap stood next to the monster-sized grill. The second woman standing beside him laughed at something he said. As Zach approached with the tray of meat, the guy in the cap opened the big chrome lid and scraped the grill with a wire brush.
Adele didn’t belong there and planned to make a quick getaway. She turned toward the pool, and the closer she walked to the enclosure, the more she was able to see that she’d either been mistaken about the time, or there were a lot of late parents. She opened the glass door and the smell of chlorine and the sound of high-pitched laughter hit her like a brick to the head. She spotted Kendra hanging on to the side of the pool and knelt on one knee beside her. “Am I late?” she asked above the noise, and pushed her sunglasses to the top of her head.
Kendra wiped water from her eyes. “What time is it?”
“About a quarter to four.”
“The party ends at six.”
“I thought you said three.”
“No.” Kendra shook her head. “Six. We practiced new dances until three. Maybe you got confused.”
“Obviously.” And Zach hadn’t bothered correcting her. “I’ll come back in a few hours.”
“Okay.” Kendra smiled. “How’s Momma?”
The last thing Adele wanted was to wipe the smile from her niece’s face. “She’s fine. The baby’s fine.” She stood. “Have fun, and I’ll see you later.”
Kendra sank into the water, then pushed off and swam toward a group of girls on the other side of the pool.
The door opened, and Zach stepped inside, carrying a glass of red wine. “It’s time for y’all to get out of the pool,” he said in a loud, clear voice, and the noise in the pool house suddenly quieted. Then he started issuing orders like he was calling plays on the football field. “Get dressed. Dry your hair. You’ve got fifteen minutes. Go.”
Adele half expected him to yell a few hut huts, then drop back for a pass. Instead, he moved toward her, grabbed her hand, and pressed the glass into her palm.
“What’s this?” she asked, and glanced up from the wine and into his face.
“Wine,” he answered. “I thought you could use it.”
“I don’t suppose telling you I don’t want wine will make a difference.”
“Sure it will.” He shrugged one big shoulder. “Are you an alcoholic?”
“No.”
“Allergic?”
“No,” she answered, as the girls began to drag themselves out of the water and move toward the far end of the pool, where Tiffany handed out thick white towels.
“Cheap drunk?”
“No.”
“Mormon?”
“No.”
“One of those girls who gets drunk and wants to get naked?”
“No.”
“You sure?”
“Yes.”
“That’s a shame.”
She smiled despite herself.
“Let’s get the hell out of here before these girls start with those ear-piercin’ screeches that they mistake for talkin.’” He placed his palm in the small of her back and steered her toward the door.
Through her sweatshirt, his touch pressed into her spine, light and heavy at the same time, spreading a warm, aware rush across her skin and bringing back visceral memories of his hand sliding to her waist and pulling her against his side. She took a drink of a very fine Merlot and was extremely grateful when he dropped his hand and opened the door. She stepped outside onto the walkway and felt she could breathe again. All that steam in the pool house had made her feel a little li
ght-headed.
“If any of those girls get the sniffles, their mommas are goin’ to come after me,” he said, as they moved toward the courtyard.
Adele glanced at Genevieve and the other woman standing around the barbecue and wondered if they, too, had gotten the time wrong. “I thought I was late picking up Kendra. So, why didn’t you tell me I’m actually early?”
“My momma told me I shouldn’t ever correct a lady.”
Adele lifted a brow and looked up at him. “Uh-huh. Try again.”
“I knew you’d hop into your car and peel out on my driveway.”
He was right.
“And I don’t think it’s right that I have to suffer through this party by myself.”
“Isn’t that part of your job as a parent?”
“To suffer?” He nodded as they walked past the heaters in the courtyard. “Yeah, but what no one told me was that cleanin’ stinky drawers was goin’ to be the easy part.”
“You cleaned stinky drawers?”
“When I was home.” They stopped beside the grill, and Zach introduced her to Cindy Anne Baker. Next she met the guy in the cap, Joe Brunner, defensive coach for the Cedar Creek Cougars. “And you already met Genevieve,” Zach said as he grabbed the tray of burgers and dogs and lifted the huge barbecue lid.
Genevieve hardly acknowledged Adele with a breezy “Yes” before she turned her attention to Zach, and asked, “What can I do to help you?”
“Nothin,’” he answered as he picked up a spatula and placed patties on the grill. “You just relax.”
“Oh, you know I have to feel like I’m doing something useful.” Genevieve picked up a glass of Merlot and took a drink. She moved closer to Zach and spoke low so no one else could hear her.
“Which daughter is yours?” Cindy Anne asked Adele.
“It’s my niece, and she’s one of the new girls, Kendra.”
Cindy Anne looked like one of those stocky women who’d been a gymnast in a former life. Short, compact, perky. Hair cut into a blond wedge. “Do you have children?”
Through the white smoke rising up around Zach’s head, Adele caught his gaze and looked away. “No.”
“Married?” Cindy Ann asked.
“I came close once,” she fudged, and she figured if Dwayne hadn’t gone insane because of the curse, she might have married him.
“Boyfriend?”
She shook her head. “My pregnant sister is in the hospital with preeclampsia. I’m taking care of her and Kendra, so at the moment I only have time for my family.”
“Did you go to Cedar Creek High?” Joe asked as he looked straight at Adele.
“Yes.”
“We were in the same art class. I graduated a year after you.”
That finally got Genevieve’s attention. “You went to Cedar Creek?”
“Yep,” Adele answered, and told her the year she’d graduated.
Genevieve studied her face. “Oh. I remember you now.” She turned to Zach. “Did you get an invitation to the Night of a Million Stars benefit?”
“Yes.”
“You’re going, aren’t you? I know it will be painful without Devon. We still miss her horribly, of course.”
Zach placed hot dogs next to the patties, then set the tray down.
“We were best friends since our very first Little Miss Sparkle Pageant. We were close as sisters. Devon was just one of those special people, and the Junior League just isn’t the same without her.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I know how much you loved her, we all did.” Genevieve shook her head, and her perfect bob brushed her chin. “Life just isn’t the same without Devon.”
“True.” Zach rearranged the hot dogs. “But somehow we manage to live on.”
Adele looked down in her glass of wine and almost felt sorry for Zach. He must have loved Devon a lot. For years she’d told herself that they were miserable together. That he’d only married Devon out of responsibilty. That they weren’t in love. Not really. Not the kind that lasted a lifetime. It made her feel better to believe it, but it wasn’t true. It had never been true.
She thought of the life-sized portrait in the living room. That scary freaky picture of a dead woman. Zach must have loved Devon. He must still love her a lot.
Chapter 6
Zach had wanted out of his marriage. An hour before Devon t-boned that garbage truck, he’d handed her divorce papers. After ten years, there’d been no love left. Just a civil, if not always peaceful, coexistence that had no longer been enough. At least not for him.
The difference between them had been that Devon had wanted to go on living that way forever. She’d loved living the life of an NFL quarterback’s wife, even a retired quarterback, far more than she’d loved him. She’d loved the cachet that it gave her, especially in the small Texas town. For a long time, he hadn’t minded living in a sham marriage. If he was honest, he’d admit to himself that it had worked for him. He’d lived in Denver. Devon in Texas. He’d lived his life. She’d lived hers. She hadn’t really cared what he did as long as it didn’t hit the news and embarrass her in front of her Junior League friends. He hadn’t cared what she did as long as it didn’t affect Tiffany.
By the time he’d filed for divorce, he hadn’t loved his wife. He hadn’t even liked her much, and he’d wanted out before that growing dislike turned to something stronger. She’d been the mother of his only child, and the last thing he’d ever wanted was a court battle, but that’s exactly what she’d promised that morning he’d handed her the papers.
“You can’t do this to me, Zach. I won’t let you,” she’d vowed, just before she’d slammed the door and sped away to one of her meetings. As he’d watched her go, he hadn’t been surprised by her response. He’d known the day he’d contacted his lawyer that he was in for a shitstorm.
Zach closed the lid on the barbecue and looked up. Through the smoke he watched Adele swirl the wine in her glass. He couldn’t say that he knew her, but he was pretty sure that she wasn’t the type of woman who wouldn’t care what the hell her man did as long as it didn’t hit the news.
Adele glanced up and again he felt like he was back at UT, staring at her from across a classroom. Like there was something about her that he wanted to know better. Something that drew his gaze and attention. Something more than the heavy pull of desire. Back then he’d wondered what her hair would feel like tangled up in his fingers. Tonight he wondered how long it would take him to make those eyes of hers turn a deeper blue. A smile curved his lips as he remembered a night when he’d kissed a little fairy she had tattooed on the right side of her belly just above her panties.
As if she read his thoughts, her cheeks turned pink, and she turned and moved toward the table a few feet away.
“I’m sure you’ll be interested to know that the governor will be attending the benefit,” Genevieve said, interrupting Zach’s thoughts, which he figured needed to be interrupted before he got too carried away and embarrassed himself.
“Really? Huh.” Zach had met a lot of governors and a few presidents, too. He’d been to the Playboy mansion and partied with a lot of famous people. Some he’d liked. Others had been pompous tools. If Genevieve knew him at all, she’d know he wasn’t easily impressed. Especially by stuck-up society women who married old men for their money, then cheated behind the suckers’ backs.
Genevieve had invited herself to the party, and he wasn’t fooled by offers of help. Not that she was trying to fool him. He’d been around women like Genevieve all of his career and most of his life. Women who offered up their bodies, and while he’d sometimes taken what they’d wanted to give, he’d never screwed around with married women nor women he didn’t even like. He wasn’t desperate enough to start now.
“I’ll go check on the girls,” Cindy Ann volunteered, and took off toward the pool house.
“Thanks,” Zach said, and watched her go. Cindy Ann Baker was a perpetual volunteer mother, a former gymnast, and a woman who had it ba
d for Joe Brunner. Once Cindy Ann had seen Joe’s truck parked out front and noticed Genevieve, she’d quickly volunteered to “stay and help out, too.” Only Joe was so oblivious during football season, that he wouldn’t recognize an attractive woman if she tackled him. And while Cindy Ann wasn’t Zach’s sort of woman, she was cute and perky and athletic.
The barbecue sizzled and sent smoke into Zach’s face as he flipped a few more burgers. He waved the smoke away with one hand and glanced over at his defensive coach standing at the end of the table, chatting it up with Adele. The spatula paused in midflip, and a burger fell on its side on the grill. Maybe he’d been wrong about Joe. He watched Adele smile at his friend, then Joe leaned in and said something that turned her smile into soft, sexy laughter. Adele shook her head and patted Joe on the upper arm. Zach wondered if she’d be so friendly if she knew Joe had been married and divorced twice. If she’d be so touchy-feely?
Zach had invited the defensive coach over to help him out with the barbecue, not hit on women.
A frown pulled Zach’s brows together, and he righted the burger on the grill. Joe was a good guy and a great buddy who had a bad habit of dating and marrying the wrong kind of women. He needed someone who was as much into sports as Joe was. Someone like Cindy Ann. Not a woman like Adele, who could not care less. At least she hadn’t cared fourteen years ago.
Adele was beautiful, with a wonderland of a body, and Zach really couldn’t blame Joe for chatting her up. And really, why should he care who talked to Adele? He shouldn’t, and he didn’t.
Across the lawns, the door to the guesthouse opened, and twelve hungry thirteen-year-olds headed his way. Their hair was dried, and they all seemed subdued, whether from exhaustion or hunger, Zach wasn’t sure but was very grateful. They each grabbed a plate and loaded up on pasta salad, chips, hamburgers, and hot dogs.
“Did you burn mine black?” Tiffany asked as she moved next to the grill.
“You know it.” Zach speared the darkest hot dog on the grill and shoved it in a bun. Once the girls were all seated at tables beneath the heaters, he loaded Joe up with a double burger, Cindy Ann with a hot dog, and Genevieve just took pasta salad. “What’s your pleasure, Adele?” he asked. “Hot dog or hamburger?”
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