Wearily, Lucy dragged herself up the steps of the wide porch of Tolly and Nathan’s brick Tudor style house. Built in the 1930s, the house was perfect for them with big rooms and plenty of bedrooms to accommodate the friends Kirby brought home from college. Lucy had decorated the house, all but the nursery. “We aren’t nearly ready,” Tolly had said. “Who knows what we’ll want by the time Kirby graduates?” Both Nathan and Tolly were one hundred percent committed to seeing the boy they’d taken as their own through his college football and academic career.
Lucy picked up the brass knocker and let it fall. Seconds later, the door swung open.
“Come in.” Tolly, ever elegant and classy, stepped aside. “Missy and Lanie are practically passed out in front of the fireplace in the library. They both had bad baby nights last night. Lulu was cranky and John Luke woke up at three o’clock ready to party.”
“Good. Maybe they won’t interrogate me.”
“Don’t count on it,” Tolly said as she took Lucy’s coat. “Believe me, as the most recent victim of the book club ‘need to know,’ you have my sympathy.”
“Sympathy won’t stop you from joining in,” Lucy said as she followed Tolly down the hall.
“At least I’ll ply you with liquor first.” Tolly went straight to the bar and poured glasses of wine as Lucy let herself down on the sofa that faced the one where Missy and Lanie sat dozing. Lucy and Tolly had planned the arrangement of this room just for book club with twin sofas flanking the fireplace and a large coffee table in between for food and drinks. Tonight the table was laden with individual tomato pies, tiny crab cakes, artichoke and asparagus salad, and chocolate chip cookies.
“Somebody’s been busy,” Lucy said, accepting her wine.
“Not me.” Tolly set down glasses in front of Missy and Lanie before she settled in next to Lucy. “You know me. I hire that done.” She took a sip of her wine and cast an eye toward the other sofa. “Should we wake them?”
“If we must,” Lucy said. She could handle Tolly. Lanie too. But Missy? No one could handle Missy.
As if on cue, Missy sat up and rubbed her eyes. “What? Damn.” She poked Lanie in the side. “Wake up, Lanie. We slept through the arrival of Lucy. Not surprising, considering how sneaky she is these days.”
“I am the least sneaky person on the planet. I don’t even know how to be sneaky. I wish I did.”
“That might have been true at one time.” Missy reached for a plate and turned to Tolly. “Can we eat? I’m starving. But Brantley knows plenty about being sneaky. What he didn’t know, I taught him and, apparently, he’s passing it on to you. Though I don’t know why you have to be so secretive. You and Brantley are perfect for each other. I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself.”
Lucy filled her plate with one tart, one crab cake, and a generous portion of salad. There would be no cookie, not if she wanted a second glass of wine. Life was about choices. “As I have already told y’all,” she said patiently, “Brantley and I are not involved. All there is between us are old bricks and paint samples.”
“You do have to admit,” Lanie said tentatively, “that the two of you are perfectly suited. Same friends, same religion, same professional interests.”
“Not that she devil, Rita May Sanderson,” Missy said around a crab cake.
“Who he will, no doubt, return to any moment,” Lucy said.
“I’m not so sure about that,” Missy said.
“It’s wishful thinking on your part,” Lucy said. “There has to be something he likes about her, even if you do detest her.”
“No ‘if’ about it,” Missy said.
“Be that as it may, it’s all beside the point. Rita May or not, there is no Brantley and me.” Brantley and me. That phrase made her stomach turn over, and not in a good way.
“There was the matter of the fork,” Lanie said. “What was that all about anyway?
Hell and double hell! They knew about that?
“Forget the fork,” Tolly said. “I am much more interested in why he sent you a Jack-O-Lantern a week before Thanksgiving.”
They all gave her questioning looks. If they knew about the cake, they didn’t ask. “How am I supposed to know why Brantley Kincaid sends such weird gifts? Missy ought to know more about that than I do. She knows him better. Hell, she created him.”
“I did not. I tried. He would not be turned.”
“Turned to what? Tolly asked.
“My minion,” Missy said. “I’ve been trying to get a minion for years and haven’t been able to manage it yet. I cannot put anyone onto the Missy way of doing things. Tolly and Nathan aren’t even coming to my Iron Bowl party. They’re going to the game just to watch Kirby standing around redshirted.”
“That’s right,” Tolly said with no apology in her voice. “We’re very proud of Kirby for being redshirted. It means they are saving him so he will have an additional year of eligibility. You can go with us; I know Harris has tickets.”
“He does,” Missy said with a sigh. “And to tell the truth I would kind of like to go. But you know how Harris feels about it. He likes to watch the Alabama/Auburn game in his own house. But he did say that next year, when Kirby isn’t redshirted anymore, we will go. Beau will be old enough to go by then. And Kirby is family.”
Tolly and Harris, the children of identical twins, looked enough alike to be siblings. They practiced law together and were closer than most brothers and sisters.
Tolly laughed. “We’ll just see if he gets to play.”
“But the rest of you?” Missy looked from Lanie to Lucy. “You’ll be at our party?”
“Yes,” Lanie said.
“Of course,” Lucy said but it might be a lie. Depended on how Brantley was acting.
“Missy,” Tolly said, “I do appreciate that you are willing to uproot your whole family and come to Tuscaloosa for Thanksgiving. I know turkey in a restaurant is no one’s idea of a great Thanksgiving.”
Missy shrugged. “Kirby’s not allowed to leave until the game is over. The Bragg/Lee/Harris contingent does what it needs to. But I am bringing pies. We are having homemade pie, even if we have to eat it in our hotel rooms, right in bed.”
Relieved for the change of subject, Lucy jumped in. “What about the Heaven/Avery contingent? What are your Thanksgiving plans?”
Lanie smiled a sleepy smile. “Everyone is coming. My family, Luke’s parents, of course. Luke’s sister, Arabelle. We haven’t seen her since she got back from that Doctors Without Borders stint. Oh, and Luke’s cousin Sheridan and her husband. They’re bringing the baby they adopted last year, so John Luke will have a playmate.” She laughed. “As much as a ten-month-old and eight-month-old can play together.”
“That’s a lot of people, even for that big farmhouse,” Tolly said. “Are you cooking for all those people?”
“It will be a combined effort.” Lanie turned to Lucy. “How about you? I assume you’re parents aren’t coming back from Tibet. Are you going to those cousins in Charleston?”
“No.” And Lucy was thankful for it. It was a long drive and none of those people were anywhere close to her age. “It’s just Annelle and me this year.”
There were audible gasps from everyone in the room.
“No!” Lanie said. “You and Annelle come be with us at the farm. You have to.”
“It isn’t much to offer, but you can certainly come to Tuscaloosa with us. Annelle too, of course,” Tolly said.
“Absolutely,” Missy said.
Lucy laughed. “No. I think Aunt Annelle is kind of excited about what she is calling a ‘quiet, elegant, little celebration.’ She’s printed some recipes off the Internet for smoked turkey and wild mushroom bread pudding and pumpkin crème brulee.”
Missy sat up. “You can’t eat that! Not on Thanksgiving. It’s not traditional.”
“If you can eat canned cranberry sauce and dry turkey in a restaurant, I can eat whatever I want.” Plus there would be excellent wine, classical music, and
they would dress up for the meal. She was rather looking forward to it. “And let’s not forget that we will have fabulous traditional Missy Bragg Iron Bowl party food two days later.”
“That’s true.” Missy nodded. “And best of all? Brantley will be there this year.”
Oh, joy. He’d been there last year too; he’d come unannounced. And she’d gone out the back door as he came in the front. But she was done running from the runner. Probably.
Missy was about to say something else when her cell rang.
“Sorry,” she said, and answered. “Oh? Well, can’t you—Okay. Yes. I’ll be right there.”
She turned her phone off and got to her feet. “Lulu is pitching a fit. I think she’s cutting a tooth and apparently Harris, Luke, and Nathan have done everything they can think off.”
“I’m sure Nathan was a great help,” Tolly said. “What did he want to do? Toss her around like a football?”
“Harris sounded just frantic enough to try it.”
Lanie was also on her feet. “I’ll go too. I rode over with Missy.”
“You don’t have to,” Lucy said. “I can take you to Missy’s to get your car and your family later.”
“No.” Lanie was putting her shoes on. “I’ll get my gang out of there so Missy can deal with Lulu. I would bet in all that excitement, Emma and Beau are wound up. That never helps anything.”
While Tolly was seeing Missy and Lanie out, Lucy gathered up the dirty dishes and took them to the kitchen. Tolly had used her good china and crystal. It shouldn’t go in the dishwasher so Lucy filled the farmhouse sink with warm soapy water.
“Well, that was short lived.” Tolly entered the kitchen carrying trays with the leftovers. “Will you take some of this food home with you? Nathan is not impressed with what he calls ‘tea party food.’”
“No,” Lucy said. “It was good, but I cannot afford the calories. You know how hard I fight.”
Tolly smiled. “You’re beautiful.”
“Well, I don’t feel like it. Not long ago I was at the mall and I looked up and saw a woman. I thought, ‘if only I looked like her.’ Then I realized it was me, in a mirror. But I never think of myself as that woman in the mirror. In my head, I’ve got another forty pounds.”
“We all have our demons.” Tolly began moving the tomato tarts into storage containers. Then she laughed a little. “What did you do with that chocolate cake? I know you didn’t eat it.”
“You heard about that? I’m not surprised.”
“I talked to Sandy when I stopped in the Bake Shop to pick up these cookies.”
“Lord.” Lucy put a hand to her forehead and discovered too late that there were soapsuds on her fingers.
Tolly laughed and came toward her with a towel. She dabbed it away. “There.”
“Thanks,” Lucy said.
“Lucy.” Tolly laid a hand on her arm.
No. Not a serious talk. Anything but that.
But Tolly went on. “I know we always joke that the four of us are one big double date, with you and Missy as a couple, and Lanie and me as the other. But we’re all sisters. You know that, don’t you?”
Lucy’s eyes filled with tears and she covered Tolly’s hand with her own. “Better than sisters. You don’t pick your sisters. We are friends of the heart. I would have even worn an ugly bridesmaid dress for you. But thank goodness what you picked was gorgeous.”
Tolly smiled. “I know you and Missy tend to confide in each other, as do Lanie and I. But I get how it might be hard to talk to Missy about this thing with Brantley, given how close they are. I’m here; you can talk to me.”
Lucy went back to her dishwashing. “Tolly, there is no Brantley and me.”
“That’s fine, if that’s what you want.” Tolly picked up a clean towel and started to dry. “But he is pursuing you. Rather relentlessly, from what I hear. You can’t deny that.”
Lucy was quiet for a moment. “I guess not. But, Tolly, Brantley is a runner. And for him, it’s about the chase. He thinks he can’t have me, so he’s interested. The minute that changed, he’d be done. Probably run back to Rita May.”
Tolly dried two wine glasses before she spoke again. “When I listen to your voice and look into your eyes, I am not convinced there isn’t something there on your part.”
Lucy put her hand up. “Tolly—”
“Just let me say this, Lucy. A while back there was a knock on my door. Opening that door was the most terrifying thing I’ve ever done. But I did. And I don’t like to think where I would be if I hadn’t taken a chance. Sometimes you have to open the door.” She laughed a little, as though she wanted to lighten the mood and picked up two of the freshly washed wine glasses. “Come on. Let’s have another glass of wine. If I know Nathan, he’ll watch game film with Harris for hours yet. We won’t say another word about Brantley.”
“All right,” Lucy agreed. “But I’m not washing those glasses again.”
“Deal.”
Close to an hour later, Lucy walked out of Tolly’s front door, down the steps, to the driveway—straight into Brantley Kincaid’s arms.
Chapter Eleven
Lucy let out a little squeak—more from surprise than fear—and Brantley silenced her with his lips on hers. His mouth was warm and cold at the same time, fire and ice.
She put her hands on his shoulders to push him away, but somehow her arms ended up around his neck and she opened her mouth to get a better taste. He was better tasting than she remembered. Better than last week and better than Savannah.
The question was, what was she doing tasting him? She pulled away and stepped back. She would do well to remember that he had tricked her into taking care of his dog—again.
He was dressed in a white shirt, striped tie, navy slacks, and a camel wool topcoat. Still, he was shivering.
“Damn, Lucy Mead. You ordered up some cold weather while I was gone. I am freezing my ass off.”
“What are you doing here?”
“I’m waiting for you. I’ve been hiding in those bushes for over an hour.”
“And just who have you been hiding from?”
“Mostly Missy. I saw her leave. If she had spotted me, my life as I know it tonight would have ceased to exist. I would, no doubt, be admiring baby Lulu, playing Candy Land with Beau, and listening to the trials and tribulations of being Missy—instead of kissing Lucy. And not kissing Lucy would be the worst trial a man could face.”
And he kissed her again. She only let herself indulge for a few seconds. Forty-five tops.
“Why are you out here in the cold? Why didn’t you come in?” She hated that she was breathless against his mouth.
He licked her lower lip.
“I know the rules. No men at book club.” He ran his tongue in little circle at the corner of her mouth and let it trail down her jawline. “I had a special welcome planned and it did not include a bunch of women who pretend to read books, and especially not my oldest and dearest friend, who I love but who has no place in this particular scenario.”
By now he was speaking close to her ear and then he buried his face in her neck and found that spot—the one that shot an electric current straight to her nipples and between her thighs.
She should stop him. She had to stop him. But how could she? It was that spot.
“Lucy,” he whispered.
“Huh?”
“I’m cold. Real cold. Could we go?”
Suddenly, she was grounded again. Yes. Go. That’s what she had to do. Him too.
“Yes.” She pulled away. “I should go. Goodbye.” And she began to back away.
He followed. “I mean to go with you.”
“You can’t.”
“I have to. I walked here.”
She looked around. “You walked? From where?”
“Your house.” It wasn’t that far to her house. She might have walked here herself if it hadn’t been so cold and she hadn’t been running late. “I have to go there with you. Eller’s there, and I broug
ht you some really great souvenirs. Plus, I have some other plans.”
He moved toward her again.
This time she kept her wits about her. Her good sense told her to make him walk, but that would have crossed the line to mean.
She clicked the locks on her car. “Get in. But you are only going to get your dog and your car.”
* * *
Brantley slid into the passenger side of Lucy’s Christmas ball blue SUV. He’d been bored in San Francisco and done a little research on this vehicle and he didn’t like what he’d found. Not only did it ride like a log wagon, it had an abysmal safety rating.
“This car is begging to roll over. Didn’t you see the safety rating on the Internet before you bought it?”
She frowned at him. “I did not consult the Internet. Or you.”
“Oh, Lucy, that is apparent. I would have advised against it. What you’ve got yourself here is a killing machine. It’s not safe. Nowhere close.”
“Really?” she said with no interest. “I think it’s perfect. It’s just big enough that I can deliver lamps and small pieces for furniture. And it was the right price and a snappy color.”
Brantley slapped his forehead. “Oh, that makes sense. It’s more important to have a snappy color than to live through a wreck.”
“Somehow I think I will be able to keep it between the lines of the wild streets of Merritt. If you are truly concerned for your safety, I can let you out.” She slowed down.
“Oh, no. No, ma’am. If you are going down in a fiery blaze, I am going with you. We’ll just leave Eller an orphan. They’ll probably put her down too since there won’t be anyone to take care of her. I don’t think Tiptoe holds with burying dogs in his cemetery, but maybe since this will be so tragic, they’ll bury us all together. Probably have to. Won’t be enough of you and me left to tell who’s who.”
Lucy gave him a sidelong look but didn’t say anything. Had he gone too far, joking about being killed in a wreck? He didn’t understand himself why he said such things, why he danced around a line that might make someone think he was in mental distress. He would never say such a thing to someone with his history.
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