Hot Southern Nights

by Gen Griffin

  “I'm not offering to beg,” David replied with a shake of his head.

  “Then what?” Trish was beyond confused.

  “Just trust me.” He took both her hands in his and smiled down at her. “I'm very fucking bad at this.”

  “I still don't know what you're doing,” Trish admitted.

  David dropped down on one knee in front of her, assuming roughly the same position he had the previous night when he had removed her high heels in the bed of the truck. His hands were warm and strong around hers. “Trish, marry me.”

  Trish stared at him in total shock. She felt like the world had just dropped out from underneath her feet. David's hooded eyes were shockingly bright in the afternoon sunlight. His expression was calm and certain. Confident, despite the fact he'd known her for a single night and he was proposing in the middle of an otherwise deserted county highway.

  “You're proposing?” She whispered. “After everything I just told you, you're proposing?”

  “After everything you just told me, I think you need to understand where I stand. I want to be your husband,” David said with a small but very serious smile. “Think it over Trisha.”

  “Now I really don't know what to say,” Trish stammered.

  “Say you'll let me buy you a new diamond. Something a little more classy and a lot less fake.” He gave her a slow, sexy smile and then stood up and wrapped his arms gently around Trish's waist. “You can trust me. I may be fucking crazy, but you can trust me.”

  “I do trust you,” Trish said. She reached up and gently brushed his dark hair out of his eyes. “And I'm starting to think that if you're crazy, I must be crazy too.”

  “Give me a chance, Trisha. Say you'll marry me.” David cocked his head sideways at her and held up his right hand. “You won't ever have to wonder if I love you.”

  “I can't get engaged while I'm already married.”

  “You've already filed the divorce, haven't you?” David ran one finger down the line of her jaw, stroking her chin with the pad of his thumb.

  “Of course,” Trish acknowledged with a small smile. “I filed it the week before I moved to Possum Creek.”

  “So, technically you're single.”

  “I'm almost single,” Trish said. “Give it three weeks. I'm hoping to have the paperwork in hand by the end of the month. Assuming Curtis doesn't find a way to drag this out in court for years. He doesn't want a divorce.”

  “I vote we don't give him a choice. What kind of diamond do you want me to buy for you?”

  Trish shook her head at him, laughing. “You're crazy.”

  “You like it.”

  “Beside the point.” She stretched up on her tip-toes and brushed her lips across his again. “If you think you want to marry me, we need to have a very serious talk.”

  David's eyes widened ever so slightly. “I thought we just had a very serious talk?”

  “We did,” Trish acknowledged. “But now we're going to have a very serious talk about sex. Because you need to know that I'm not easy and I'm not just going to fall into bed with you after knowing you for a day.”

  “I never thought you would be easy.” David wrapped his arms snugly around her hips. “I don't like easy.”

  Trish leaned into him as she stared up into his dark eyes. “I'm kind of skittish about sex now, David. After what happened with Curtis I just don't even-”

  “I'm not with you for the sex.” David cut her off mid-sentence.

  “Who said you were with me at all?” Trish was surprised by his calm certainty.

  “Who said you would be able to get rid of me?” David countered. “I'm stubborn when I've made up my mind.”

  “And you've made up your mind that you're going to sleep with me?” Trish wasn't sure if she should be thrilled, baffled or terrified.

  “I've made up my mind that I'm marrying you,” David clarified. “You might as well get used to the idea. Trish Breedlove sounds pretty, don't you think?”

  “Technically, it would be Patricia Candice Breedlove,” Trish informed him. “And there is no last name on the planet that is going to be able to make Patricia Candice sound pretty.”

  “Patricia Candice?” David wrinkled his nose.

  “My mother named me after my grandmothers. Both of my grandmothers. Hence, antiquated clunkers for both my first and middle names.”

  “Patricia Candice Breedlove.” David drawled the syllables out thoughtfully. “Its not so bad.”

  “I've always just settled for being grateful that Mom chose 'Trish' for my nickname instead of raising me to call myself 'Candy'.”

  David laughed. “You could call yourself anything you wanted to and I'd still say it sounded good with my last name.”

  “You're insane,” Trish replied as he kissed her again.

  “You're the one who is going to be spending the rest of her life with me. Might want to get used it,” David teased. “How do you feel about ditching Possum Creek for the rest of the afternoon?”

  “And go where?”

  “Canterville. We can go out to dinner, buy me some new clothes and buy you a new diamond. I promise the rock will be real.”

  Trish laughed. She was still laughing when a Callahan County Sheriff's Department cruiser came flying down the road towards them with its lights flashing.

  David stepped back from Trishas the car came to a stop and the window rolled down.

  A scrawny sheriff's deputy with narrow shoulders and copper-colored hair was sitting in the driver's seat. He had a panicked expression on his narrow face.

  “What's wrong Ian?” David asked.

  “Tate Briggs just called into dispatch. He was investigating the fire out at your place and he found a body.”

  “What do you mean, he found a body?”

  “I don't know nothing else. All I know is that he wanted Katie to send the coroner. He said someone was dead out there.” Ian looked from David to Trish and then back to David.

  “What the hell?” David muttered. “That’s impossible. No one was in the trailer last night except for me.”

  “Somebody apparently was.”

  “I would have heard them. If someone else had been there last night, I would have heard them screaming.”

  “Not if they were already dead before the fire started.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “Kerry's trying to say its Casey, David.” Ian swallowed hard. “He's saying its Casey's body.”

  “Fuck me,” David cursed.

  “You need to go out to the scene,” Ian said. “Preferably before Kerry gets out there. I already talked to Addison. He's going to meet you out there.”

  “Shit.” David slammed his fist directly into the side of the wrecker, creating a sizable dent.

  “David?” Trish said his name hesitantly.

  “It's not Casey,” he turned to her. His eyes appeared both stricken and desperate. “I swear to god, it's not Casey. I don't know who it is, but its not Casey.”

  Trish put one hand on his arm. He felt burning hot to the touch. “Calm down. I believe you.”

  He blinked at her as if he hadn't expected her to believe him. “Promise?”

  “Of course,” she said. “I know Kerry's out to get you.”

  David hesitated briefly and then nodded. “Trish, I'm sorry. I didn't-.”

  “David, stop.” Trish put her fingertips against his lips. “You need to go deal with this. I understand. It's okay.”

  “It's not okay,” David said flatly. “I made you a promise and now I'm letting you down.”

  “No, you're not.”

  “I am.” His fists were still tightly clenched.

  “David, your house burned to the ground last night. Now they've found a body on your property. I'm not angry with you.” Trish slid her fingers down his arm and began gently wiggling her fingers in between his clenched fingers until they were holding hands. She could feel the tension vibrating through him. “It's okay. We've got the rest of our lives to
gether, right?”

  “Nothing ever goes right for me,” David muttered. “Ever. No matter how badly I want it to.”

  “Aren't you the one who just told me everything would be fine?” Trish asked him gently. She squeezed his fingers.

  “I did,” David acknowledged with a slight smile. “But how am I supposed to take care of you if I can't get Kerry off my back?”

  “I do a pretty good job of taking care of myself,” Trish reminded him. She gave him a peck kiss on the lips. “Go handle Kerry. I'll be fine.”

  “Are you sure?” David asked her.

  “We don't have time for this,” Ian said bluntly. “You need to get out there.”

  “David, I promise I'm not mad.” Trish squeezed his fingers tightly with hers. “You go deal with whatever you need to deal with. I'll be fine. Maybe your friend here can give me a ride back to town?”

  She looked purposefully at Ian, who nodded.

  “I can drive her home,” Ian said. “But you need to go.”

  “I'm sorry,” David said to Trish.

  “It's okay,” Trish said.

  “No it's not,” he replied. “But I swear I'll make it up to you.”

  Chapter 27

  “You need to hurry up and file that divorce of yours, little girl.” Grover was sitting in his recliner with the shotgun propped against the arm of the chair.

  “I did,” Trish replied tiredly as she walked into the living room. She set her purse on the coffee table with a thud. “Why? What did Curtis do?”

  “He showed up here around two hours ago. He was ranting and raving about how you got drunk, wrecked your car and took off with that cop you're fucking. I'm assuming 'that cop you're fucking' would be Addison Malone?”

  “I'm sorry, Grandpa. Curtis is a jerk.” Trish intentionally ignored the comment about Addison.

  “He was demanding to talk to you. He didn't believe me when I told him you wasn't home. I showed him my shotgun and told him he needed to head on down the road. He left but he told me to tell you that he ain't signing no divorce papers.”

  Trish sighed. “We're supposed to go to court in three weeks. I'm hoping the judge will go ahead and grant the divorce. I'll bring the phone records with me. Maybe he'll agree I'm being harassed.”

  “Your Momma told me you were trying to get out of a bad relationship when she sent you to live down here, but she didn't tell me the boy was obsessed with you.”

  “He wasn't obsessed with me until I left him,” Trish admitted reluctantly. “He actually ignored me for most of our marriage. I have no idea why he cares so much about me now that it's over.”

  “He cares about you now because he can't have you. Feller only wants what he can't have.”

  “He'll give up soon enough. Curtis wasn't that interested in me when he was married to me.”

  “He told me I need to respect the sanctity of your marriage and send you home to him,” Grover replied.

  “I hope you told him to fuck off,” Trish said tiredly. “Curtis spent most of our marriage ignoring my phone calls because he was busy performing sex acts on strippers.”

  Grover laughed. “Now there's a good way for a young man to spend his evenings.”

  “Not when he's married,” Trish disagreed. She didn't want to think about Curtis or his cheating right now. Her attention was already fully occupied with worrying about David. She wondered whose body had been found on his property. She really didn't want to think about his impromptu proposal right now.

  “Women never do see the fun in watching naked women,” Grover commented grumpily.

  Trish decided now was a good time to change the subject. “Curtis did tell you the truth about one thing. He did wreck my car last night.”

  “What do you mean he wrecked it?” Grover asked.

  “I mean that he grabbed the steering wheel while I was driving down the road and snatched it into some trees. After Addison and I left to go get the tow truck, he set it on fire. I'm thinking its probably really dead this time.”

  “Sucks for you,” Grover said.

  “Uh huh. It does. The good news is that I heard you still own a running vehicle.”

  “I reckon Addison ratted me out?” Grover demanded with a scowl.

  “Actually, no. David told me.”

  “David?” Grover's thick graying eyebrows shot up in surprise. “Ricky's David?”

  “I don't know who Ricky is,” Trish said. “But David's last name is Breedlove. He's tall with dark brown hair and green eyes. He has lots of tattoos and owns the mechanic's shop down on Main Street.”

  “His father's name was Ricky. We were good friends a long time ago.” Grover reached for a cup of coffee that was sitting beside him. “You been hanging around with David?”

  “I guess you could say that,” Trish admitted. “David is special-.”

  “You're screwing David?” Now Grover just looked plain out surprised.

  “What? No.” Trish shook her head and held up her hand. “Why do you always assume I'm sleeping with every guy I speak to?”

  “Because you are your mother's daughter and she has loose morals.” Grover sneered at her.

  “I am not my mother. I don't know how you want to classify my relationship with David, but I'm not sleeping with him.” Trish brushed her tangled hair out of her face.

  “Well that don't tell me shit,” Grover said after a minute. “What does David say your relationship is?”

  Trish frowned and then decided she might as well answer. “David says we're getting married.”

  Grover made a hmph noise. “He give you a ring yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “He said when he's going to?”

  “No. We kind of got interrupted by a Sheriff's deputy who drove up and announced the fire inspector had found a body on David's property.”

  “He's still living in Ricky's old trailer, ain't he?”

  “It was an old trailer,” Trish said. “When I saw it, it was on fire. I don't know whose it was before it was his, but it was old and way out in the middle of nowhere. Almost on the-.”

  “It's almost on the Baker County line. One side of the property runs down wildlife management area. There's a creek back behind the property that runs down into the bayous.” Grover nodded to himself. “He inherited that place when Ricky died.”

  “Oh. I wouldn't know. We haven't exactly gotten around to sharing our life stories yet.” Trish frowned thoughtfully. “To be honest, I don't know him very well.”

  “David is a good kid. Real quiet. Damn smart. Smarter than me and Ricky put together. Holds his temper better than Ricky ever did. Ricky was real proud of that boy. He didn't spend a whole lot of time with him after he got out of prison the second time, but I reckon it was probably better that way. Better for David, at any rate. Jerry and Loretta Walker had taken him in by that point. They were raising him like he was their own. He did good for them. Straight-A student, David was. Ricky used to brag about that all the time. Ain't nobody in that entire family ever so much as finish high school until David. Can't nobody else in this town fix an engine like David neither.”

  “You know him pretty well.”

  “I knew Ricky real well,” Grover corrected her. “David keeps to himself. He's polite enough but he don't have much to do with nobody except Addison and the Walkers. And like I said before, the Walkers raised him.”

  “Cal's family?”

  “Cal's family. Yeah. I reckon since you know Addison and David, you know Cal too.”

  “I met him last night.” Trish didn't really know where this conversation was going.

  Grover drained the last of the coffee from his cup with a slurp. “You'll do alright with David.”

  “You approve?” Trish wasn't sure whether to be disturbed or pleased.

  “Tell him to come over for dinner one night,” Grover said. “We can fire up that old grill out back and toss a couple of steaks on it.”

  “I'll take that as a yes,” Trish said.

 
; “I'd rather see you married to David Breedlove than married to that fat loser who was pounding on my door at nine o'clock this morning threatening to smash through the glass if you didn't let him in.” Grover set down his empty cup.

  “Curtis and I are getting a divorce, whether he likes it or not,” Trish said firmly. “As for David, the jury is still out on him.”

  “David's a good kid,” Grover said idly. “Even if he did tell you that I still own a truck.”

  “He says you're hiding it in the garage behind the house.” Trish narrowed her eyes at her grandfather. “You know you don't have a driver's license.”

  “The doctors say my eyes are too bad to be driving.”

  “And yet you're still driving?”

  “A man's got to have a way to get around,” Grover argued. “I been on my own for a long time before your mother sent you down here to help me out. You really think I walked everywhere for the last five years? There ain't no cabs in Possum Creek.”

  “I want the keys to your truck,” Trish told him. “I'm going to need it.”

  Grover considered her thoughtfully for several minutes and then nodded. “I'll make you a deal.”

  “Okay,” Trish replied. “I'm waiting.”

  “I know the doctors have told you that I need to be eating healthier, but I hate this all wheat shit you keep trying to feed me. I want white bread. I want biscuits.”

  “I don't understand what this has to do with your truck.”

  “I'll make you a trade. I'll give you my truck if you'll start buying white bread again. It can be our little secret.”

  Trish considered her options for a minute and then shrugged. “Fine. You have a deal. I'm not a huge fan of wheat bread anyways.”

  Grover shot her a big, toothless smile. He held out his hand for her to shake. She shook it.

  “Where are the keys, Grandpa?”

  “Inside the tank of the toilet in my bathroom.”

  “What?” Trish stared at him in bewilderment.

  “You ain't the first one whose tried to get the keys to my truck from me, Trisha. You're just the only one I'm willing to let have them.”

  “You put the keys to your truck inside a toilet.”

  “Ain't nobody going to look for them there.”