by Amy Lillard
Change the subject.
“Ginger told me that you are a widower.”
“Yes.” A miniscule muscle jumped in his cheek, and Elizabeth immediately regretted her remark.
She wanted to know about his daughter and her mother. And yet she didn’t. She wanted to ask about how she and JD had met, but she couldn’t. She wanted to know every good and gory detail of their marriage together. And yet she didn’t. Fifteen years ago JD had been hers. Then he’d belonged to someone else. Someone who had given him a child. And he would never belong to Elizabeth again.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s not important.”
“But—”
He cut her words short with a shake of his head. “I should be apologizing to you.”
She gave him a smile, but it felt sad on her lips. “You already did.”
He made a noise, could have been an agreement. She just didn’t know.
But being so close to him again…
She loved the feel of his arms around her, his warmth and vitality surrounding her. It took every ounce of willpower she had not to lean into him and absorb his strength for herself. Strength that would see her through in the days to come.
Her thighs tingled where they brushed against his as they danced. She could still remember all the times they had spent together…and yet how could she forget? He had been her first and, for a long time, her only.
Their time together had been so very, very special…
And then it was over.
She had been devastated that night when her father had come home and told them all that he was moving the family to Chicago. She and JD would have one last summer together before he went away to college, and she moved to another state, miles away. They had made the most of those last couple of weeks together. They had loved and laughed and cried. In the end, they had promised that they would love each other forever. That they would wait. Once Elizabeth finished high school, she would join JD in Oklahoma. They would get an apartment and live off Cheetos and Spam and be the happiest couple God had ever put together. But then time and distance had stepped in. Time, distance, and another girl.
“I’d offer you a penny, but I think they may be worth more than that.” The words seemed to rumble up and out of his chest.
Elizabeth jerked back to the present, realizing she had given into the temptation and laid her head on JD’s shoulder. In turn, his cheek rested on the top of her head. They seemed to hold onto each other as if their very life depended on it, barely moving to the music that was much too fast for the way they were dancing.
“Sorry,” Elizabeth took a step back and released him. It was all she could do.
“Don’t be.”
“I just—”
He hooked one finger under her chin and tilted her face upward. She had no choice but to meet that dark blue gaze. “It was just a dance.”
“Right.”
The song ended. Everyone around them clapped. JD dropped his arms from around her, and she was without him once more.
“Thanks for…nothing,” he said with a sad little quirk of his lips, then turned on the heel of his boot and walked away, leaving her on the dance floor even more confused than she had been when she first stepped on it.
****
JD realized that for the second time in less than twelve hours he had walked away from Bethie Grace McGee. If anyone had asked him two days ago, he’d have laid good money down that he would never see her again, much less have her warmth and fragrance lingering around him.
With a sigh, he threw himself down in the booth next to Lane and wished he had something stronger than beer to drink. He wouldn’t order it. He still had to drive home. He still had Mallory to think about. He had to get up and go to work tomorrow to support his family.
Yet once again Bethie Grace was driving him out of his mind. He wanted to go over there and…
Well, a lot of things. His fingers tingled where the silky strands of her hair had brushed against them as she tilted her head back to look at him. New memories mixed with old. He could still remember the way her lips tasted, the way her skin felt…
He had hurt her all those years ago and in the process killed a little piece of his own heart.
“You could ask her out,” Lane said, barely controlling his laughter.
JD took a sip of his beer and signaled the waitress for another. One more, then he was going home. Two was his limit when Bethie Grace was involved. “Sure and if we’re really lucky, our parents will let us stay out until after the late movie.”
“Awh,” Lane groaned, throwing his head back against the booth seat.
But Trey shook his head. “There was a time—”
“Yes, there was,” JD interrupted, “but that time is over. In case you didn’t notice, she barely wanted to dance with me.” He couldn’t blame her, and yet…
“She wanted to dance with you, all right,” Lane said with a grin.
“Have another nacho, Lane, and shut up.”
Lane shoved in a bite, but continued with his mouth full. “Trust me. I know women.”
“Sure you do,” Trey countered. “Now how many times have you been married?”
“That’s not fair,” Lane said.
“All’s fair in love and war…or some such nonsense as that,” Trey said.
But this was neither.
Bethie Grace was most probably locked in with past emotions, wondering if they were real or if they ever really had been at all. But he didn’t wonder about that, he knew. Bethie Grace McGee was the only woman he had ever loved, and he killed any feelings she could’ve had for him too many years ago. The worst and the best year of his life.
Chapter Three
“What do you think, Bethie Grace?” Candy asked. “It’s a great idea, huh?”
“What was that?”
“I told you she wasn’t listening.”
Elizabeth was finding it hard to keep up. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, and it was taking every last ounce of energy she had in her to keep her attention directed away from JD Carmichael.
“I think we should have a slumber party,” Candy repeated.
“A slumber party?” Elizabeth looked from one to the other.
“That’s what I said.” Ginger gave a stern nod.
“You know, like old times,” Candy continued. “We’ll call Holly and get her to come down. It’ll be fun. We can paint each other’s nails and eat ice cream and—why are you shaking your head, Ginger?”
“I don’t know.”
“You don’t know why you’re shaking your head?”
Ginger frowned at Candy. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea.”
“Don’t be a spoilsport,” Candy said.
“I’m not. It’s just the bakery and Nora and—”
“My mom will sit for Nora, and Amber can watch the other kiddos. We can camp out on the porch at Georgia’s house and—tell her it’s a good idea, Bethie Grace.”
“It’s a good idea, Bethie Grace,” Elizabeth parroted.
The other women laughed.
“I just don’t—” Ginger started.
“Trust anybody. It’s time you started, shug. Mom loves Nora, she loves going over there, and we’ll love getting together again.”
“Okay, I’ll think about it,” Ginger said. “And for the record it’s not just anybody that I don’t trust. It’s just men.”
Here, here, Elizabeth thought. Her father had said they would live in Texas forever. He’d said he had “taken care” of her grandmother’s house. JD had promised to love her forever. None of it had ever come to pass. It just went to prove: Men weren’t always what they seemed. That was something she had to keep in mind as long as she was in Loveless and within a stone’s throw of JD Carmichael.
****
It was just before ten when the trio left Barney’s, Candy still making plans for the sleepover and Ginger still coming up with reasons why it wasn’t such a good idea.
Elizabeth just wanted to get back to her grandmother’s house and go to bed. She’d changed the linens before she had left the house. Now all she could think about was the smooth yellow cotton sheets on the full sized bed in the attic room with the slanted ceilings.
“Is that—” Candy broke off walking around Elizabeth’s rental and bending slightly at the waist. “It is. You have a flat tire, Bethie Grace.”
Elizabeth followed her friend to the back of the car. “Oh, are you serious?” She didn’t even know if it had a spare. Something she probably should have asked when she rented it. Too late for that now.
“Now what?” Ginger checked her watch. Elizabeth knew she would stay out of loyalty to her friends, but her mommy gene was strong. Ginger would feel guilty about taking one more minute from her child.
“You go on and get Nora, and we’ll—”
“Go get one of those men you don’t trust and have them change it,” Candy finished.
Ginger spent only a minute deciding before she kissed them each on the cheek, got in her car, and headed back through town.
“I’ll wait until you find somebody to change it,” Candy said as Ginger’s taillights disappeared.
“It’s a small car. I can probably manage.” If she could find the jack.
“In those pants? Please.”
Elizabeth looked down at her cream colored designer slacks and sighed. “I’ll go get Buddy or Barney or—”
“JD?” Candy added softly, her eyes sparkling impishly in the dimly lit parking lot.
Elizabeth eyed her with mock suspicion. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you did this to my car.”
“What makes you know better?”
“You’re seven months pregnant, and you can’t bend down far enough to touch the tire—”
“True.”
“And you’ve not been alone with my car all night.”
“Seriously. Just get back in there and ask JD to come change your tire, then see what happens from there.”
“Oh, Candy, please.” She would walk home before she would do that. It just seemed so personal, so friendly, so—
“You ladies having a problem?”
Lane Edwards stood, hands on hips, just outside the entrance of Barney’s.
“Yes,” Candy said.
“No,” Elizabeth countered, shooting a scorching glare in her friend’s direction.
Lane just raised a brow.
“It’s nothing that I…we can’t handle.”
Lane’s twinkling hazel eyes took in the lopsided stance of her car and smiled. “A flat tire, a pregnant lady, and a city girl. I’ll go get JD.”
“Get JD?” The words flew from Elizabeth’s mouth, but it was better than socking Lane for calling her a city girl. If the Jimmy Choos fit…
“You don’t really expect me to change a tire in this shirt.” It wasn’t a question.
“Of course not,” Candy said with mock seriousness and a quick roll of her eyes. “Now go get JD.”
Before Elizabeth could protest again, Lane disappeared through the door of the bar and returned minutes later with JD in tow.
“Lane said you needed me?”
The implication was not missed on Elizabeth. “We’re fine. Really.”
“No, we’re not,” Candy said. “The tire’s flat, and we need help changing it and oh…my back hurts.”
“Your back hurts?” Elizabeth turned toward her in concern. “You didn’t say anything about your back hurting.”
Candy pulled a pained face. “I’m sure it’ll be better after I lie down for a while. I probably should be going,” she practically moaned, then hopped in her minivan with a spirit that belied both her condition and her claims to pain.
Traitor, Elizabeth thought. But she would be just fine as long as Lane—
“I’ll guess I’ll be going myself.”
“Does your back hurt, too?” JD did the asking though Elizabeth was thinking the same thing.
“Nope, but three’s a crowd,” he replied, then turned on his heel. Whistling under his breath, he didn’t look back—not even once—as he made his way to his pickup.
Elizabeth watched JD as his friend backed out of the parking lot.
“I’ll just…change that tire,” JD said.
“It’s okay. I bought the insurance. Surely the rental car people—”
“Will take two hours to get here, and I can be done in fifteen minutes.”
What could she do but agree?
Elizabeth tried not to stare at the perfect picture he made as he worked. It was like poetry in motion—cheesy, yes, but true all the same. Thank goodness for the darkness that hid the fact that she openly watched him.
It was stupid really, but she couldn’t take her eyes from him. He removed the old tire, put on the pitiful little doughnut, then turned to face her.
“All done.”
“Thanks.” She handed him a wet wipe from her purse.
JD nodded in return and used the little cloth to clean his hands. “That had all the earmarks of a conspiracy.”
“I’m still not convinced that Candy didn’t do this on purpose,” Elizabeth said on a small laugh.
“I don’t think she can bend down low enough to mess with a tire.”
“Good point, but she may have hired evil little leprechauns to do her bidding.”
“Now that sounds like Candy.” JD chuckled. “You don’t want to drive on that for very long. Not on the highway, and keep it at least five below the speed limit.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
He stopped wiping his hands and stared at her. Unfortunately the security lights that offered the little bit of illumination to the parking lot were at his back. Elizabeth couldn’t see his expression.
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I don’t need a man telling me how to live my life. I’ve grown up, in case you haven’t noticed.”
Several long heartbeats separated them as JD studied her, then he methodically started wiping at his fingers again. “Oh, I’ve noticed.”
Elizabeth blew out a breath, its force stirring the hair around her face. “It’s not you…yeah, it’s you. I mean…I just—”
He stopped cleaning his hands and propped them on his hips.
“It’s just…” she started, turning away and trying to sort through this overload of emotion. What she really needed to do was get in her car and drive the required five miles under the speed limit all the way to her grandmother’s house and put as much distance as she could between them. “Every time I’m around you, I jump back in time. I can’t help but remember that year. That summer.”
Her tire was changed. It was time to leave. It was the best thing for them both.
“I know.” His voice was quiet and urgent and right behind her. How could a man his size move with such grace and speed?
Elizabeth turned around and instantly wished she hadn’t. He was so close that if she took a deep breath her breasts would brush against the starched cotton of his shirt. And that was one step away from leaning in and melting into him entirely.
“You do?” Whose voice was that? That wispy, insubstantial breathy voice that sounded urgent and pleading all at the same time.
He picked up a strand of her hair and twirled it around one finger. “Your hair was shorter then, and we were so much younger…but I wonder if it would be the same now.”
“If what would be the same?” She was stalling, but she needed a few moments to sort herself out.
“Us.”
She shook her head. She needed to be concentrating on the year after and the pain he’d caused her.
“It was good,” he said, the words leaving him like a caress. “We were good.”
“I don’t recall.” Elizabeth tried to harden her voice, toughen it up so she didn’t sound so needy.
“You don’t remember this?” He leaned down and brushed her mouth with his.
“No,” she lied. His kiss was like coming home.
“What ab
out this? He pressed his mouth to the side of her neck where the curve became her shoulder. Despite the Texas summer heat, goose bumps broke out all over her body.
“No.” Her eyes fluttered shut.
“Then you must have forgotten this,” he said, and he wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and hauled her to him.
Elizabeth had forgotten nothing.
His lips were firm, warm and insistent. They coaxed, teased, devoured, and reminded.
Every minute of that summer was relived in his kiss. The urgency of young love. The flushed desire…longing…trembling. Elizabeth felt it all again and more.
He raised his head for a fraction of a second, and Elizabeth only had time to wonder about his intent, before he angled his head in the other direction and claimed her lips once again. His mouth moved over hers, re-exploring. Demanding. Urging. Beckoning.
His lips left hers to trail nipping little kisses down the side of her neck. Elizabeth tilted her head to allow him better access. She shivered with the thrill of it all.
“I never…never meant to hurt you.”
“I know,” she breathed. It had been so long ago, long enough that she was a different person now. Not the naïve girl who cried herself to sleep when she found out he was marrying another.
She was a woman, with desires and wants and a heart broken so many times she wasn’t sure if it would ever be whole once more. She certainly wasn’t giving it away again.
And never again to JD Carmichael.
She wedged her hands between them and by an outside and greater force managed to push herself free from his embrace. She swayed a little without him there to support her. They were both breathing heavy. Elizabeth steadied herself and stared at him, the back of her hand pressed to her mouth, to stop her lips from trembling in the after effects of his kiss. Why did he have so much power over her even after all this time?
“Bethie Grace?”
“No.” She turned on her heel and grasped for the handle of the little white rental car. She had to get out of there now before she forgave him for everything from breaking her heart to the Kennedy assassination. But the rental was different than her car, and the blessed door wouldn’t cooperate.