Heart of Dixie (Moreover #1)

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Heart of Dixie (Moreover #1) Page 11

by Ruthie Henrick


  He nodded his approval. “You’re really getting things done, aren’t you?”

  “It’s why I’m back, Deke. Once I finish here I need to head to the grocery store for a few things, then I should be free for the afternoon.”

  “Oh yeah? I’m on my way for groceries now.”

  Stephanie entered the shop from the back—followed by an employee who veered off to help Deke—and grabbed her catering binder when she spotted me. I followed her to a white ice cream parlor table stationed alongside the pink candy-striped wall and took a seat across from her as she flipped to my page. Deke chose two doughnuts, cream filled with chocolate frosting, took a bite and ended up with a dab on his lip. Oh, dear God, I could feel my tongue on his lip, taste the cream as I licked it off—

  “Mmm, here we go.” Stephanie skimmed the page with a finger and jerked me back to reality.

  The bell on the door dinged, bright daylight slashed onto the floor tiles, and Deke stepped outside. I forced my attention to the book. “This all looks fine.” I had no idea what I was looking at.

  “I have preparations underway for most of it already. And I added in the German chocolate brownies and mini lava cakes; they’re my best sellers.” She lowered her voice and cupped her hand to her mouth as if she were divulging a state secret. “I’ll be entering them in the Founder’s Day bake-off next month. That Elsie Hoffer will not beat me this year!” The woman scowled as she made her declaration, then beamed up at me. “Besides, they were always George’s favorites. He was such a fan of my chocolate.”

  He was? Oh my. “That all sounds . . . wonderful.”

  It didn’t matter how many carts were available when I arrived at the market, I found the one with a broken wheel. I was already loaded down with all of Cody’s must haves—pop, chips, those disgusting cookie pies filled with marshmallow crème and then coated with banana-flavored icing. I bumped through the aisles on my way to the canned tuna. Everything about it was revolting—the mushy texture, the fishy smell—but the kid gobbled it up, so into the basket it went.

  The checkout lines were long, not surprising for a Saturday afternoon. I chose one and took my place in the queue. None of this wandering up and down the width of the lanes in search of the checker who’ll get me out three minutes faster. Nope. Just pick a line and park it, folks. We’ll all get a turn to cough over our cash.

  The magazine headlines at the end of my row held enough news to keep me occupied for hours. Some sixteen-year-old reality star gave birth—again; diet tricks to help me lose twenty-five pounds in a week and a half; a sex IQ quiz. Whoa! A quick flashback of a half-naked Dixie asleep on my bed raced through my memory and landed in my dick. Fuck! My mind needed to take a left turn, quick! Ah, Drew Hensley pissed some chick off and a concerned citizen managed to capture video of her dumping spaghetti on his lap. Classic. I picked up a copy to skim through as the checker rang up Cody’s junk fest.

  Once everything was down the conveyor belt and paid for, I lifted my plastic sacks in one hand, tucked my wallet away with my other, turned and—crash!—barreled into the shopper beside me. “Dixie!”

  My arm shot out to keep her from falling off her shoes. My sacks fell to the floor, cookies and tuna tumbling amid scattered cans that had slipped from her bag as she bobbled her large frozen pizza and bottle of wine.

  She laughed once she was stable, and I dropped to a squat. “Excuse me! I . . . I’m so sorry!” I grabbed a bag and started to refill it. “I keep running into you today.” A bottle of cola had rolled out of reach. I stretched for it. “Literally. Running into you.” Shut up, idiot!

  She surveyed the mess around us. “Wow, that’s a lot of junk food. I would think you eat healthier than that.” Her face flamed.

  I finished shoving her purchases back into sacks and then rose. “What makes you—?” Oh, Jesus! Was she remembering me naked? My own face heated even as body parts further south warmed up for action. “It’s for Cody. Well, not all of it. The beer’s for me and Shane. We’re fishing this afternoon. At the stream behind my house.” What was it about this woman that turned me into a stammering fool? I thrust her sack toward her and darted to the side to avoid getting bumped by a cart driven by a six-year-old. The move jostled Dixie’s arm, threatening the pizza tucked under her arm. I gave it a pointed look. “Tonight’s healthy dinner?”

  She glanced down at the box and nodded. “Girls’ night with Beth.” She took a step forward, led me toward the exit. I fell in beside her. “I had a few errands to run, made a few phone calls to check in on work. Gus was at the hardware store when I ran in to pick up a few things. I’m supposed to meet him at Cooter’s house tomorrow morning.”

  Her eyes darted as we walked, never landing on me, and she jabbered like a magpie. Dixie Barnes was hot as sin and had fueled my dreams for the past two nights; what did she have to be nervous about? We stepped through the door and I stopped at the ice cooler stationed at the front of the building. “I need—” I gestured toward the machine.

  “Oh! Sure!” She halted, nodded, searched the lot as if she’d lost her car, then turned a long gaze on me. “Well, have fun fishing with your nephew. I guess I’ll see you around.” She lowered her head and blew out a huff of air. “I gotta go.” And she did.

  I grabbed a tub of worms from the cooler and stuck it in the sack with Cody’s banana cookie cakes; he’d never notice the difference. I paid for a bag of ice, too, so I pulled that out and followed Dixie across the parking lot. Or followed her ass, rather, as that was all I saw as I crossed the asphalt. The loose skirt of her dress swayed side to side, giving teasing glimpses of the firm flesh beneath. The smooth, supple, rounded globes that fit just right in my palms as I poised above her, fit against me like puzzle pieces as we lay sleeping together, and . . . Shit!

  I turned around and headed back the way I came. I’d passed my truck three vehicles ago and Dixie was gone; the only thing left of her was in my imagination. I lowered the bag of ice to the erection straining the front of my jeans. I needed that girl back in my bed. And I could deny it until the sun turned purple, but I needed her back in my heart, as well.

  “Hey, where’d Daddy go?”

  I squinted against the afternoon sun glimmering off the surface of the creek. I’d waded upstream several yards in hopes of dodging Cody’s non-stop barrage of chatter. He countered by upping the volume. “I think he’s napping, sport.” Either that or playing possum laid out on a blanket in the shade, but I’d cover for him as he was at the clinic with an emergency most of the night.

  “Hey, Daddy, are you asleep?” Cody twisted in the little chair we’d parked at the edge of the water, no easy feat given the bulky swim vest Shane had him buckled into. “Daddy, my worm’s gone again.” I glanced past the bobber swinging above the surface of the water and grinned. Sucked to be Shane right now because sure enough, Cody’s bright red Spider-Man rod had an empty hook on the end of the line . . . again.

  “Cody, are we here to catch the fish or feed them?” Shane grumbled as he rose and headed to the cooler for another worm.

  Cody belly laughed. “Silly Daddy. We’re here to catch them.” Funny kid. Shane’s sarcasm sailed right over his head. “But I need a new worm. Uncle Deke doesn’t have enough fish for dinner yet. I have to help him.”

  The fish hadn’t nibbled for me in a while, so I laid my pole on the bank and stripped off my T-shirt to cool off in the water. “Why don’t you give your old man a break, Cody? Come swimming with me.” I hung it over a branch, and the little guy was out of his chair, fitting a miniature mask and snorkel over his face. And Dixie was teetering across the yard toward the stream, her gait awkward with her narrow heels puncturing the uneven ground. A plastic grocery sack hung from one hand.

  She stopped before she reached the bank, her eyes covered by fancy sunglasses and impossible to read. The hem of her dress ruffled on a slight breeze, and my tongue stuck to the roof of my mouth. Jesus, I had it bad.

  “Hi.” Not eloquent, but at least the i
ce was broken.

  All at once, Shane became a man of action. He gathered up Cody’s belongings, popped the snorkeling gear off his head, got a squawk in return. “Cody, look at the time. We have to get going. Nana’s expecting us for dinner.” He unbuckled Cody’s flotation vest and replaced it with a blue Ninja Turtles tee.

  Cody automatically lifted his arms as he whined. “No, she’s not, Daddy. We’re supposed to have fish with Uncle Deke tonight.” His lower lip protruded and proceeded to quiver, but Shane already had him on his butt, shoving tennis shoes on his feet. “But-but we were gonna go swimming!”

  Shane rose, surveyed the area, but they hadn’t brought anything extra; they weren’t leaving anything behind. “Another day, cub. Still lots of time before the water gets cold. We better get going so we’re not late.”

  He turned to me and the raised eyebrows and smug grin told me the puny save with Cody a minute ago was nothing compared to what I owed him now. Damn! He’d probably demand details, too. I used to like my brother when we were kids. He used to mind his own business. Now both my best friend and my brother were girls.

  So far Dixie hadn’t made a peep. But her eyes darted to my shorts again, then slid up my abs until she—oh, thank God—finally met my eyes. If she’d continued her stare another few seconds, my dick would be standing up and saying hello also. In one quick movement, she thrust out her sack as if she just remembered it. “I brought your tuna.”

  Huh? “Tuna?”

  “Our bags must have gotten switched at the market. There are only two cans left instead of the three you bought, though. Miss Kitty was hungry.”

  Miss Kitty?

  She turned to leave, then stopped to frown at me behind her, her lips plump and sensual, her hair swinging over her shoulder to highlight the profile of her breast—and the thing I wanted most in the world was my mouth on her. Anywhere. Everywhere. “Aren’t you coming?”

  Not yet, but soon I hope.

  She pointed to the house. “If you’ll just get my cat food, I’ll leave.”

  That’s what I was afraid of. “Come here, Dixie.”

  She turned back to me, but didn’t step closer. Her eyes did that seek-and-destroy thing again and my cock twitched.

  “You’re ruining your shoes in the yard. Don’t you want to kick them off?”

  She glanced down to where her heels were caked with dirt. “I’m leaving, Deke. I just came to switch sacks.”

  I gave her another long look. The grocery bag dangled from her wrist and pressed against her chest with her oversized purse to work as a shield. Her bare shoulders peeked around either side of it, tan and smooth. Her legs were long and glorious in the slim, sleeveless dress that I’d come to recognize as her idea of dressing down. “Is that the truth?”

  Her eyes were focused somewhere to the left of me, but my eyes weren’t moving. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She’d be leaving me soon enough, and God only knew how it happened so fast, but I worried she’d be taking my heart with her. Again. I was drinking in every image of her I got between now and then.

  “Cody probably scared all the fish away, but you want to grab a pole, see if we can catch dinner?” She glanced with longing at the gear stacked to the side of the drink cooler, then down at her dress. She shook her head.

  “No.”

  “Good memories, huh? Out here on the water. You’re really not dressed for it, though. Maybe another day.”

  She glanced at the clear water over my shoulder. “It does look refreshing. You’ve been swimming?”

  I let out a chuckle. “I guess you could call it that. You want to swim, don’t you princess?”

  She shook her head again, held her bags tighter. “No, I really can’t. I have to get going.” But the longing in her expression grew, and the weight of it gathered in my balls. I chuckled again, but choked on it and had to clear my throat.

  “Take off your shoes, Dixie. Swim with me. No rope here, but I’m sure we can find some kind of fun.”

  “You think I’m scared, don’t you? You think I won’t take you up on your dare?” Her chest heaved through the thin cotton of her dress. Her hands lowered and the grocery sack slipped to the ground. She carelessly dropped the bright leather handbag she already bitched me out for tossing in my kitchen. Her shoes flew from her feet and she took two steps closer till she was a pebble’s throw from the bank.

  I smirked. “Maybe. Let’s see if the Dixie standing here today is anything like the carefree girl I knew back in the day.” I looked her up and down and her eyes heated. “Take off the dress, Dixie. Come swimming with me.”

  She was thinking about it. Indecision flickered in her eyes as she scanned the open expanse leading down to the sand along the edge of the water. The argument practically shouted from her head—the list of pros in this column, the cons tallied over there. I took it as an invitation to participate and pointed off in the distance. “Shane’s place is clear on the other side of those trees, Dixie. Nobody else around for miles.”

  Way too much of my time lately had been spent with a half-naked Dixie in my arms. Which wasn’t bad at all if it led to a fully naked and wriggling Dixie wrapped around me at some point. This point right here worked just fine.

  At last she nodded, and her hands reached for the tiny buttons running down between her breasts. Ah, good decision. Maybe part of the old Dixie was in there after all. She paused and pinned me with a pointed gaze. “Wait a minute. I don’t have a suit, and I’m not skinny dipping alone.”

  I only needed to loosen one string and my swim shorts hit the water around my knees. “Problem solved.” Her quick whimper was soft, but I heard it.

  With her dress unbuttoned to her waist and her eyes plastered to my chest—and my semi-hard cock—she lowered the narrow straps from her shoulders one at a time until the filmy fabric hung from the curve of her hips. Her breasts overflowed the cups of her bra. Her skin was flushed, a delectable shade of pink that she couldn’t blame on the heat of the sun. My erection grew until it throbbed against my lower abdomen. I kicked my shorts away and took a step toward shore. “Good girl. Now the skirt, Dixie.”

  We weren’t kids any longer. Not teenagers to fumble in the dark. We both knew where we were headed, the pleasure to be found in each other, and she seemed as eager to get there as I was. She dragged her eyes upward until they locked on mine, the chocolate of them gone to glittering coal. Her lips were parted, her breathing labored. Her dress landed on the grass. Sweet Jesus. Red satin panties matched the barely-there bra that strained to hold all of her. She reached behind her to unhook it.

  “No!” Her eyes widened and darted to meet my steady gaze. “Leave that on.” Loving on her breasts as I uncovered them was a pleasure I chose to savor. I took another step toward her, over the gravelly creek bed and toward the wide, sandy bank where a colorful blanket was still laid out from our earlier picnic lunch—and held out my hand. “Come here, princess.”

  A few uncertain steps down the shallow grassy incline had those bare fingers of hers locked in mine, her warm eyes open and curious as I stood bare ass naked before her on the warm sand. I lifted one hand, rubbed the back of my fingers over the softened skin covering her cheekbone. She leaned into it before I trailed my fingertips down her neck. “Will Miss Kitty survive if you don’t get her food to her right away?”

  Her eyes were dark and vague. “Mmm. Miss Kitty?” She shook her other hand free and the flats of her palms found my pecs, then wandered lower over my abs, and I could have French kissed Shane for shaming me into joining him at the gym.

  I chuckled and kept my hand busy at the gentle slope of her shoulder, down the length of her arm to the feminine indent of her waist. “That’s what I thought. She’ll be fine.” I lowered one bra strap and put my lips to her shoulder. “We don’t have to swim, Dixie.”

  Her head went back even as her hands continued to roam and found my ass. I clenched and her hands smoothed over the tightened globes until I let them relax. “Swim?”r />
  Jesus, her hands felt good on my skin. “Mmm hmm. Are you hot? Do you want to get wet?” I lowered the other strap, let it dangle as I nuzzled across the tops of her breasts on my way to her other shoulder. “Or would you rather go inside, find some other way—”

  “Wet? Oh, God, yes, I’m wet.” She pushed her fingers into my hair, grabbed my head and pressed my mouth to her breast. No complaint from me. My lips surrounded the firm flesh through the airy red silk and sucked until it was soaked through.

  Heaven.

  Her hands lifted from my scalp and with no fucking warning at all she had one palm wrapping my dick, my balls encased in the other. My knees went weak. “Jesus fucking Christ, Dixie.” The words roared in my head, but tore from my throat in a raspy whisper. My heart thundered against my chest. No doubt, Dixie was used to a plush mattress and satin sheets. How would she feel if I pulled her down, rolled her around in the grass and made her feel as good as I did with her hand gently working me?

  She removed her hands and relief blew out on a sigh. One of us would need a clear head to locate a condom if we were taking this party horizontal. Then she rubbed her barely-there panties against my crotch, and reason wanted to flee.

  Desperation gathered in a knot and unwound like a spring. My gaze swept the area around us. My shorts were snagged on a rock protruding from the shallow water. They’d either stay there or I’d shop for a new pair. The house was so far away—the studio only slightly closer. Dixie’s clothes and bags were scattered on the lawn. It was a long shot, but . . . “Dixie, what are the chances you have what we need in that big-ass handbag of yours?”

  Her eyes shot that way and a grin lit her face. She untangled herself from me and was already headed that way. “I wasn’t sure which to buy, so there’s a variety. You should have seen the prune face Mrs. Marshall gave me.” She returned with her purse and tossed a handful of boxes onto the picnic blanket. Dixie Barnes may be accustomed to a plush mattress and satin sheets, but today my girl was satisfied with a cushion of sand and a blanket of sunlight. I lowered her to it.

 

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