Can I Get an Amen

by Janice Sims

  He laughed too, making the moment seem more intimate.

  “So, Blair Thomas, champion race car driver and designer, how long are you going to be in Red Oaks?”

  “I planned to stay about a month, but I don’t have anywhere I really have to be until the exhibition race in Atlanta. That’s in six weeks.”

  “That’s long enough to get comfortable and get to know everyone,” she said.

  He nodded. “And I intend to spend time getting to know everyone. I’m flexible, and I believe in good friends and good times. That means that until the Atlanta race, I’m staying as long as I’m having fun.”

  Some of the intimacy and warmth left the connection between them. Blair scanned her face, wondering what he’d said wrong.

  “Hey, aren’t you Blair Thomas, the race car driver?”

  Blair turned to see a pretty young woman in tight black shorts and a body-molding top. “Yes, I am.”

  She offered a sleek, long-fingered hand. “Well, I’m Cissy Slade and I’m absolutely thrilled to meet you.”

  “The pleasure’s mine,” he replied, shaking it.

  “Is that gorgeous red Thunderbird out in the parking lot yours?” she asked, eyes wide with admiration. “Ooh,” she said at his nod, “will you show it to me? I just love sports cars.”

  “Of course, but give me a few minutes. I was talking with Dominique.” Blair saw that Dominique hadn’t skipped a beat. She was still cutting meat and stacking it on the tray.

  Cissy greeted Dominique and the women shared a polite interchange.

  “So, Dominique, how long have you been in Red Oaks?” Blair asked, determined to continue his conversation with the very attractive woman standing before him.

  “All my life, except when I went off to college.”

  “Dominique’s parents own those Winston Banks,” Cissy put in. “And I’ve lived here all my life, too.”

  Blair feasted his eyes on Dominique. Yeah, he could believe she was an heiress. She had beauty and class. “So where did you go to college?”

  Her lips slowly curved upward. “Spelman.”

  “I didn’t get to go,” Cissy informed him breaking in on their conversation once more, “but I’ve been thinking of taking some classes at the community college. What do you think?”

  “I think that any sort of higher-level learning is a good thing in this day and age.” Blair wanted Cissy to go away. His sixth sense told him that the only way to get rid of her was to show her his car. “Dominique, I’m going to show Cissy my car, then, if you’re not too busy, maybe we can sit in the shade or go for a walk.”

  “Maybe,” she repeated.

  Blair hurried off with Cissy, surprised when they picked up three other “car enthusiasts” along the way.

  Watching them head into the parking lot, Dominique thought about what he’d said. Blair Thomas would be in town six weeks or as long as he was having fun. Hadn’t she had enough of men who were only around as long as it was fun?

  That’s unfair, she admonished herself. She didn’t know anything about the real Blair Thomas, even if there were now no less than four giggling and grinning women traipsing out to the parking lot with him.

  Hmmmph! Dominique finished cutting the ribs. That was one man who probably had his pick of the women. She found the aluminum foil and covered the meat. Then she glanced around past Blair Thomas and those silly, giggling women to note that the Men’s Day Picnic was remarkably short of men.

  Mother Maybelle appeared at her elbow. “I want you to know that Blair is a fine, fun-loving young man.”

  Dominique let her glance stray to the parking lot where several of the women were piling into Blair’s car. “I can see that,” she said.

  The older woman chuckled. Leaning closer, Mother Maybelle said, “Chile, you needs more joy in your life, and a man like that’ll help you find it.”

  Dominique shook her head. “I’ve had enough of men who love to play so much that they can’t stop.”

  Maybelle’s eyebrows furrowed. “You needs a little playtime, girl. You ain’t had no fun since you caught Phil dropping his drawers.”

  Dominique’s hands formed fists. Her face felt hot, and she was sure steam was coming out of her ears. Would she ever live down all the crap her ex-husband had put her through?

  Patting her shoulder gently, Maybelle said, “I wasn’t trying to embarrass you or make you feel bad, chile, just trying to get yo attention. Ya need to set yo sights on something else besides work and being an old maid. You hear?”

  Nodding, Dominique took a deep breath and tried to stop feeling sorry for herself.

  Maybelle nudged her towards the other table. “Let’s get some of that lemonade.”

  As Dominique poured the beverage, she glanced around again. “I wonder where Reverend Danforth, Deacon Wilson, and Deacon Taylor are? They always help out with the Men’s Day activities.”

  “I dunno,” Maybelle confided, “but Reverend Avery’s been on the phone for a while and he looks a mite upset. Must be some kind of emergency.”

  At the opposite end of the clearing, Reverend Avery paced back and forth, his expression anxious as he spoke into his cell phone.

  “Looks like you might be right,” Dominique remarked, taking a sip of her lemonade.

  Maybelle laughed softly. “Ain’t I always?”

  Dominique set her cup on a corner of the table. “I’m going to see if there’s anything I can do.”

  “Hold on, chile. Look like he’s got some help.”

  Dominique whirled around. Just that quick, Deacon Jones and Blair Thomas had approached Reverend Avery and the three men were deep in a serious conversation.

  Dominique waited as long as she could. Then she went over to offer her help.

  Two

  Stepping across the thick grass in her low-heeled white sandals, Dominique approached the group of men. Blair saw her first and turned mesmerizing eyes on her. Reverend Avery and Deacon Jones stopped talking and waited for her to speak.

  With Blair’s gaze warming her, she addressed the men. “Excuse me, gentlemen. I know that some of the key members of the Men’s Day committee haven’t made it here yet. Is everything okay? Can I do anything to help?”

  Reverend Avery nodded. “Bless you, Dominique. Reverend Danforth had a personal emergency, Deacon Taylor is stranded in Macon, and we haven’t been able to contact Deacon Wilson. The good Lord prompted us to do a lot in advance, but a significant amount of work remains. We’ve been trying to divide up the work. More meat needs to be cooked. We have to start the organized games and get the prizes ready. Then, we don’t have enough beverages. We’re running out of supplies fast.”

  With another step forward, Dominique spoke up. “I’d be happy to go back to town and get whatever you need.”

  “Actually, I just offered to do just that,” Blair cut in, giving her a meaningful smile.

  Her heart leaped in response. Dominique wet her lips and swallowed.

  “I’d really like to help,” he added.

  With a glint in his dark eyes, Reverend Avery looked from one to the other. “Why don’t you both go? It’ll makes things easier, and Dominique, you can tell Blair about our town and point out some of the landmarks along the way.”

  Dominique hesitated. This was something she hadn’t planned on. She struggled with Blair’s effect on her and tried to think of a polite excuse to go alone. After what she’d seen of Blair and the women in the parking lot, she was certain that she didn’t want to act on her powerful attraction to him. With that handsome face and riveting charm, he had the same M.O. as Phil, no matter what Mother Maybelle said. Being alone with him for any length of time would just make things worse. “Well I—I…”

  Reverend Avery’s smile went up a notch and his dimples appeared. “Thank you, Dominique. I appreciate the way you’re always ready to pitch in and help. The Lord is going to bless you for that.”

  Schooling her expression, she bit down hard on her tongue while the reverend made o
ut a voucher for the store and gave it to her.

  Giving in gracefully, she headed for the parking lot with Blair. “Here’s my car,” she said, stopping in front of her midnight blue Mercedes E320 sedan and pressing the remote button that released the locks.

  Blair gave her car a quick uninterested glance and kept walking. “My car is over here.”

  “I’ve got more room to put the beverages in my car,” Dominique called, sensing that she was losing control of the situation. She didn’t want to ride in his female magnet of a car.

  “I’ve got a big trunk,” Blair shouted back.

  In a matter of seconds he’d jumped into his vintage red Thunderbird convertible, pulled out of his spot, and stopped beside her. The passenger door opened and she saw Blair leaning towards her. “Get in,” he ordered. “We don’t want them to run out before we get back.”

  Grumbling to herself, Dominique climbed in, surprised at the plush black interior. Not only had he spiffed up the outside with new paint and a new top, but he’d had the original seats restored and covered with soft, smooth black leather. Dominique cinched the seatbelt and shut the door.

  “Which way to town?” Blair asked as they made it to the entrance of the park.

  “Left,” she said, emphasizing with her thumb, “and a right when you get to Morgan Road.”

  “Thanks.” Inclining his head, he followed her directions. The car engine roared as he zipped out of the park. He was silent until he made it to the interstate entrance on Morgan. “Are you an only child?”

  The question startled her. Was he implying that she was a spoiled brat? She shot him a quick glance. His expression seemed innocent enough. “No, I have an eleven-year-old brother, Jon, who lives just outside of town with my parents.”

  With a quick glance, he registered mild surprise as he accelerated into traffic. “I have three older sisters and we’re pretty close. They follow my racing career and even show up at some of the races.”

  She noticed the way he smiled when he mentioned his sisters. “I wish I had that sort of relationship with my brother. He’s so young that he’s still in the annoying little brother stage. I’m hoping we’ll connect better when he’s older.”

  “I’m sure you will,” Blair said confidently. He sped up, matching and then passing several cars.

  Dominique turned her head to check the area behind the car. There wasn’t a cop in sight. Maybe Blair was just lucky. “I’d slow down if I were you. This area is notorious for its speed traps. The state troopers just love to catch tourists zipping through here.”

  “If I get caught speeding, then I deserve to pay a penalty.” Blair sped past a red truck and changed lanes smoothly.

  Dominique watched as the speedometer shot past ninety. The lush roadside greenery whizzed past. She wasn’t afraid of Blair hitting anyone. In fact, she sensed exhilaration in his reckless dash up the freeway.

  Just sitting next to him in the car sent sensual thrills radiating through her. Her mouth watered at the tantalizing patch of milk chocolate–colored skin revealed by the opening in his shirt. She focused on his strong, competent hands gripping the wheel and wondered how they would feel on her. Would he be a rushed and reckless lover? Or would he be slow and devastatingly sensual?

  She forced her gaze to the scenery outside the window. After a few moments, she relaxed into the seat, against the smooth hum of his car’s engine.

  “You’re getting off at the next exit,” she announced when the one-mile warning came up for Red Oak Avenue.

  He cut his speed smoothly and took the curving exit at forty-five miles per hour. “Where are we going?” he asked when they stopped at a red light.

  “The Foodmax on the corner of Harper,” she replied, noting that they were already drawing attention. The people in the next car were staring. “It has the best prices around here. Drive past the next light and it’ll be on your left.”

  Blair drove into the spacious store lot and parked in the back. Getting out of the car and walking into the store, Dominique matched steps with him. Inside the store, they filled the shopping cart with bottled lemonade, soda, and water and then stood in the checkout line.

  As luck would have it, Bobbi Lee Hankerson, Dominique’s parents’ neighbor was in the store getting fresh pork chops for dinner. Spotting Dominique with Blair, she made a point of speaking to them and being introduced to Blair. Watching Bobbi Lee’s eyes light up when she spoke to the handsome visitor, and noting the way she smiled so hard her face must have hurt, Dominique knew that her parents would know about her being in Blair’s company before she got home from the church picnic.

  They filled the large trunk of Blair’s car with the drinks. Then they climbed back into the car and headed back to the park. Along the way, Dominique showed him the Red Oaks Grand Hotel, a beautiful and historical lodge which had been in the town since before the Civil War.

  Once they were back on the interstate, Blair flew through the traffic. The white-dashed blacktop on the road stretched before them, mirroring and dipping in the distance, reflecting the heat of the Georgia sun. In the air-conditioned cool of the car, Dominique pointed out the old water tower and the town zoo. They were close to Mt. Glacy, the local lover’s lane, when the red and blue lights of a Georgia State Patrol car flashed in the rear.

  “Pull over,” a voice ordered over the loud speaker.

  Blair cursed under his breath. “I guess I might be paying a fine after all,” he muttered as he pulled over to the side of the road.

  A little worried, Dominique sat quietly while Blair found his car registration and proof of insurance in the glove box, and drew his license from the wallet he’d stuffed in his shorts. Saying “I told you so” was the last thing on her mind.

  The low hum of the engine and the swish of the air conditioning system were the only sounds in the car. She scanned the two beefy, blue and gray clad state troopers approaching the car on each side, hoping things wouldn’t get ugly.

  Blair rolled down his window. Steam billowed out where the cool air in the car met the sun-roasted air outside.

  A badge with the name “Jones” was on the trooper’s chest. He gazed down at Blair. “Good afternoon, sir. You in a hurry for something? You sped by us at ninety-five miles an hour.”

  Blair managed to look humble. “I’m sorry officer. We’ve been helping out at the Red Oaks Christian Fellowship picnic, and they’re running out of drinks. We’ve been to the store in town and I was in a hurry to get back.”

  The trooper stared at him for a moment. “You’ve got Georgia plates, but you’re not from around here are you?”

  Nodding, Blair answered. “No, sir, I’m not.”

  “He looks familiar, though,” the dark-skinned trooper with “Smith” on his name plate said from the other side of the car.

  “I’ll need your driver’s license, registration, and proof of insurance,” the sandy-haired trooper said.

  Blair gave him the documents.

  The trooper stared at the license for a moment. “Hey, I know you. You’re that championship racer who nearly won the 2003 FedEx Championship Series race at Monterrey. Man, I was watching that one on television and rooting for you every bit of that last lap! Let me shake your hand.”

  Blair shook hands with Trooper Jones, while the other trooper walked around the car to join his partner at the driver’s window. “Can I get your autograph for my son? He watches your races all the time.”

  “For sure.” Blair smiled pleasantly. “Have you got some paper?”

  Dominique found paper in her Coach organizer and handed it to Blair. Then she watched in amazement as Blair signed autographs and joked and chatted with the troopers. The man had turned a potential speeding ticket into a signing session. She listened to their conversation, realizing that Blair was well known on the racing circuit.

  After a few minutes of talk about the races and Blair’s car, Trooper Jones got back to the situation at hand. “Blair, we’re going to let you go with a warning. You
can’t be speeding around these parts like that, man. Save it for the racetrack.”

  “Thank you, sir. I sure will,” Blair said carefully.

  “You know, for a minute there, I thought you were in a hurry to get to Mt. Glacy, the lover’s lane around here,” the other officer put in.

  “I wouldn’t have blamed you,” Smith cracked, “cause you’ve got a beautiful lady with you.” They all laughed then. “No offense, ma’am,” Trooper Smith added.

  “None taken,” Dominique told them, trying to keep the heat out of her face. She glanced at her watch. They should have been back with the drinks by now.

  Trooper Jones shifted his feet and patted the car. “Blair, we’re going to escort you back to that picnic, and then we’ll be on our way.”

  Inclining his head, Blair thanked him.

  “Does this happen all the time?” she asked, as Blair started the car and eased back into traffic.

  Blair gave her a look filled with regret. “No. Sorry I caused us to get pulled over.”

  She met his gaze, noting the sincerity there. “It’s okay, I just hope we get back before they run out of drinks at the picnic.”

  “I’m not getting pulled over again. That’s for sure,” he cracked.

  Seeing the state troopers close on their tail in the rearview mirror, Dominique had to agree. When they made it back to the park, Reverend Avery and some of the men met them at the car and began unloading the beverages.

  The state troopers got out and spoke with the group for a few minutes. At first the situation was a little tense, then everyone relaxed.

  “Did you run out of drinks?” Dominique asked the reverend.

  He hefted a box from the trunk and gave it to a volunteer. “Yes, but it’s only been about an hour,” he answered carefully. A question he was too polite to voice glimmered in the depths of his eyes.

  Trooper Jones took that moment to tell the reverend that that he’d encountered Blair heading enthusiastically up the interstate toward Mt. Glacy and had followed him to the park to make sure he arrived safely.

  “Did I hear you say you stopped Mr. Thomas and Ms. Winston at Mt. Glacy?” Cissy Slade asked in a loud voice.