Читать книгу Restless - Kimberly Raye, Kimberly Raye - Страница 9

“HEY THERE, JACK. Jimmy and Deb leave you here to clean up all this by yourself?” Red Bailey clapped Jack on the back and twisted one end of his graying mustache as he waited for Jack’s mother to finish saying goodbye to Judge Baines, the man who’d officiated at the wedding ceremony.

“They left me.” Nell Ranger, the Mission housekeeper and the closest thing Jack had to family next to his mother and brother, rushed by carrying a box overflowing with trash. She wore a blue dress pinned with a crushed carnation corsage. “Those two young’uns have a lot more sense than to expect this boy to clean up after them. Why, he never picked up his underwear way back when and I’d give a pretty penny that things haven’t changed much.”

Jack feigned a look of outrage. “Get ready to fork over the penny, darlin’, ‘cause I haven’t left a pair of underwear lying around in years.”

Nell stopped in the middle of gathering several dirty crystal plates and eyed him. “You mean to tell me you finally turned over a new leaf?”

“Not exactly.” He gave her a wink as he shrugged off his jacket. “I stopped wearing the damned things.”

“Just to get out of picking them up, I’m sure.” Nell shook her head and proceeded loading her arms with dirty cake plates.

“If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re blushing, Nell Ranger.” Jack tugged his bow tie loose and stuffed it into his pocket.

“Nonsense.” She deposited the plates on a nearby tray. “I gave up blushing the day I went to work for your momma. Why, if I had a nickel for every time you or your brother said something outlandish, I’d be a rich woman.”

“Rich, huh?” He slid his arms around her bountiful waist and gave her a hug. “I’ve always wanted to find myself a sugar mama.” He kissed her cheek before she shooed him.

“Just never you mind trying to help. I’ve got Myrtle and the girls coming over to get this place in order just as soon as they take off their Sunday best.”

“I’d be glad to help.”

“And drive those old biddies to distraction with all those winks and smiles when I need to get some work done? No, thank you. You just take yourself off to bed right this very second. I declare, after roaring in here barely a half hour before the ceremony, you must be dead tired.”

Amen. Which could explain why he’d done something so foolish as to challenge Paige Cassidy to kiss him. No matter how good she’d smelled.

His nostrils flared at the last thought. Her scent, all apples and cinnamon and warm woman, clung to him and he fought back a wave of need.

Yep, exhaustion made a man do foolish things, and Jack should know. After his wife had passed away, he’d spent the next six months barely eating or sleeping. He’d drank his way through those days, only to open his eyes one morning just outside of Vegas and find himself married for the second time to a woman he’d known for barely two hours.

Never again.

He was getting some shut-eye and forgetting all about Paige, how sweet she probably tasted and how he really, really wanted to find out first-hand.

At least for tonight.

Challenging Little Miss Uppity Up had been the most fun Jack had had in a helluva long time. Judging from the desire burning in her gaze for those few stunned moments before she’d summoned her anger, she was just as intrigued at the prospect of playing a little game of liplock with him. Just as turned on.

For the time being, of course. Paige had made it very clear that she didn’t like him. That, alone, made her the perfect woman to help him sate the lust eating him up from the inside out. A lust she felt as intensely as he did. He’d been with enough women to make him somewhat of an expert and he could spot a hungry woman at twenty paces. Paige needed some relief as much as he did. Not to mention, she didn’t have any romantic notions about him. He’d given up romance years ago when he’d watched the preacher throw the first handful of dirt onto his first wife’s casket. His only wife.

I don’t even like you.

Yep, she was perfect, all right, which meant that come tomorrow, Jack intended to pay her a visit and see what he could do to get Paige Cassidy to accept his challenge. Soon. Jack had never been long on patience.

He could only hope Paige was just as impatient. Otherwise, it was going to be a heck of a long stay in Inspiration.

“I HAVE TO HAVE THEM,” Paige told the young man sitting at the desk opposite hers. “Now.”

He leaned back in his chair, his ankles crossed, his feet encased in a pair of orange flip-flops that matched the orange flowers in his Hawaiian print shorts. Wally, Deb’s former copy boy, might have been laying out at the beach rather than sitting in the small office that housed Inspiration’s only newspaper, the Inspiration In Touch.

Paige wiped the sweat from her forehead. It felt as hot as a day at the beach. Hotter thanks to the lack of windows and the lifeless air conditioner in the far corner.

“Would you just hold your horses?” Wally took a long sip on the straw sticking out of his glass of iced tea before shifting his attention back to the magazine open on his lap. “What’s the big hurry?”

“I’ve got an SAT meeting in a half hour and an hour’s worth of work to do before then. I need to see the notes on your article so that I can write the copy before I go.”

“Do it later. It’s the beginning of the week. The issue doesn’t go out until Friday.”

“And I’ve got a week’s worth of work budgeted until then. We’ll never get the paper out on time if we leave everything until the last minute. There’s work to do.”

“You work. I’m on strike on the grounds of unbearable working conditions.” Surprise lit his eyes as he glanced up at her. “Hey, did you know a woman gave birth to a fifty pound baby boy last week in Gentryville, Kentucky?”

“You actually believe what you read in those tabloids?”

“I do,” said the fiftyish woman sitting at a nearby desk. Dolores Guiness knew everything about everybody and was only too glad to spill every juicy detail each week in her Around the Town section, also known as The Gossip Column. “Not everything, mind you. But those trashy things do print decent articles on occasion. Like that presidential wannabe and the floozy a few years back. Then there was all the hoopla about Michael Jackson and Lisa Marie Presley, some of which was garbage, but a lot of it panned out.”

“But a fifty pound baby?” Paige looked at the woman in disbelief.

“It could happen. Myrtle Simpcox’s niece over in Stafford knew this woman who had a neighbor who actually gave birth to twins that weighed twenty-five pounds each. Put ‘em together and bam, you’ve got your fifty pound birth.”

“See?” Wally shot her an I-told-you-so look.

“I still don’t think it’s a good idea to put too much faith in The Tattler. Now a real newspaper—” she tapped the copy on her desk. “That’s a different story. Real papers report real news. They have a responsibility to readers.” She eyed Wally. “Responsibility? Do you remember that concept?”

He gave her an exasperated look. “So what are you trying to say?”

“That you have a responsibility not only to our readers, but to Deb. She left you in charge because she trusted you.”

“She left me to roast in this hell. I can’t think in the heat. Give me air conditioning and I’m a super reporter. Until then, I’m struggling to keep my body temperature at a decent level. Want some raspberry tea? Jenny from the diner brought it over.”

“She still have the hots for you?”

“Unfortunately.” He shook his head. “By the way, you’re making my life miserable.”

Said misery had resulted from Deb’s infamous column—Deb’s Fun Fact for the Week—which Paige had inherited a few months ago when Deb had traded in her wild single woman status in favor of her upcoming marital bliss. The fun fact was a line or two of savvy love advice for the single women of Inspiration, such as “Sweeten Up Your Sweetie with Sweet Rolls” or “Light his Fire with Lingerie.” Since Wally was one of the few bachelors in town, the single females of Inspiration had targeted him as the perfect candidate to test out the weekly fun fact. The tea was courtesy of last week’s ‘Tickle his Fancy with Iced Tea.’

“You should be thanking me.”

“For robbing me of my privacy? For destroying my peace and quiet? For creating a town full of stalking sex-starved women?”

“On behalf of the women in town, I resent that. Privacy is overrated. Now hand over the notes.”

“They’re in the top drawer.”

“The one right next to you?”

“Yep.”

“The one barely six inches away from your right hand?”

“That’s the one.” He turned the magazine and studied the picture of the woman and her fifty pound bundle of joy from several angles. “True or not, this looks awful painful to me.”

“I’ll tell you what’s painful,” Dolores piped in from the corner, touching a hand to her gray coif. “I let Ida Louise over at the Cut-n-Curl frost my hair and I swear, she pulled out more than she colored.”

“Well you wouldn’t catch me letting Ida touch one hair on my head,” Wally broke in. “The woman’s as blind as a bat…”

The conversation continued and Paige let out an exasperated breath before stomping over to Wally’s desk and hauling open his drawer. Retrieving the notes, she headed back to her own desk and sank down into the seat. Sweat slid down her temples, her neck, and she grabbed a napkin to blot the moisture.

Wally shot her a knowing look. “Told you it was better to keep still in this heat.”

“Deb’s going to kill you when she finds out you sat on your butt all week while the world passed us by.”

“At the rate things are going, this heat’s going to kill me a heck of a lot sooner than Deb will. Besides, she’s a thousand miles away. How’s she going to know if I took a siesta in the dying heat of the afternoon?”

“Because Little Brother’s here watching you,” Dolores said.

Paige blotted her forehead. “Don’t you mean Big Brother?”

“She means Little Brother.” Jack Mission’s voice floated into the room and tickled the hair on the back of Paige’s neck. She opened her eyes to see him standing in the doorway looking dark and delicious, leaning against the lemon yellow colored doorframe.

Wally’s feet hit the floor. Papers rustled and his tea glass nearly toppled over. “I was, um, just doing a little research for a travel article.”

“For a trip to Gentryville, Kentucky?”

“No. I mean, yes. I mean, I’ve always wanted to go to Kentucky. And speaking of going, I’ve got to do the ‘This Is Your Neighbor Interview’ with Loretta Marks. She’s the new Sunday School teacher from Austin. Later.”

“I wouldn’t have thought he could move that fast considering the heat,” Dolores said. She leaned back in her seat, aimed her handheld fan at her face and eyed Jack. “So what brings you here?”

“Returning my tux.”

“Last I looked, Earline’s place was up the street. You’re at least a block out of the way.”

“I needed some exercise. Say, Dolores, is that a new hairdo?”

Her curiosity faded into a sheepish expression. She touched a hand to her hair. “Why, yes. I mean, it’s still the same style, but I had a new color job done just this past week.”

“My compliments to your colorist.” He tipped his hat and Dolores actually blushed.

Paige blinked just to make sure she was actually seeing correctly. Dolores Guiness never blushed. She made other people blush all the time with her know-it-all attitude and her all-seeing eyes, but never succumbed to turning red herself. Paige blinked a second time just for good measure. Sure enough, there was no mistaking the stain pinking Dolores’ chubby cheeks.

“It’s a shame you’re out in all this heat, though.”

“What?”

“I mean, a pretty hairdo like that won’t stand up for long in this. Is it always this hot?”

“My, my.” She clicked the button on her fan. “It is hot.”

“What happened to bearable?” Paige arched an eyebrow.

“I can’t very well go to the ladies’ auxiliary tea with wilted hair, now can I?” Dolores gathered up her purse and her notes. “I’ll just finish these notes up downstairs in the diner where it’s cool.”

“Sounds like a good idea.” He winked and Dolores blushed again before heading out the doorway.

“You’re related, all right.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The only other person who’s ever made Dolores turn that shade of red would be your brother Jimmy.”

“What can I say?” He shrugged. “It’s a gift.”

A few moments of silence ticked by before Paige finally found her voice. “So why are you here?”

“I was returning my tux.”

“I mean here, here.”

“You forgot this last night.” He held up his hand and for the first time, she noted the battered bridal bouquet that he held.

“Thanks. I’d forgotten all about it.”

“That’s good to hear.”

“What? That I’m having memory loss?”

He grinned. “That you were so shaken up after our dance that you couldn’t think straight.”

“You think so?”

“Darlin’, I know so. You wanted to kiss me.”

“You wanted me to kiss you. If I had wanted to kiss you, I would have.” She glanced at her watch. “I have to get going. I’ve got an SAT meeting over at the activity center.” She gathered up her purse and notebook.

“I’ll show you the way.”

“I know the way.”

“Then you can show me the way. I don’t think I’ve seen the new activity center. When was that built? Last year?”

“About five years ago.”

“I don’t get around town much when I’m home.”

“Why are you doing this to me?”

“What?” he asked, as he followed her down the steps.

“Following me.”

“Maybe I’ve always wanted to go to a SAT meeting.”

“Do you even know what SAT stands for?” When he grinned, she shook her head, then elaborated. “It stands for Sick and Tired.”

“That’s just what I was going to say.” He fell into step beside her. “Sick and tired of what?”

She smiled at him. Maybe it was a good thing he was following her. If he was so determined to make a nuisance of himself, the next half hour would undoubtedly change his mind. “You’ll see.”

“I don’t know if I like the tone of your voice.”

“Too late to chicken out now. Come on.” She took his arm and tugged him down the street.

“SO I TOLD HIM,” Harriet Miller said, “I would really like dessert.” She shook her head. “Do you really need that dessert? Harvey asks me.” She frowned. “So I said, I want that dessert. I deserve it, Harvey. I deserve it.” Her words met with a round of applause from the other women seated around the circle of chairs that comprised Sick and Tired, the women’s empowerment group Paige had been hosting for the past month.

“That’s wonderful,” Paige told the woman, desperately trying to ignore the man who leaned against the wall just inside the doorway, his arms folded as he watched her.

She’d expected him to run the other way the minute he discovered the nature of the group. Not many men felt comfortable in a group of venting women, but he’d simply smiled, said hello to several of the ladies he knew, and propped himself inside the doorway.

“So what did you have?” Louisa Jenkins asked. “The brownie or the apple pie?”

“The apple pie,” Harriet declared with a smile. “With a double scoop of ice cream and caramel sauce.”

“Atta girl!”

“You go, honey!”

“Score one for women everywhere.”

“Thank you, Harriett,” Paige told the woman, determined to ignore the way her skin flushed hot and cold every time she glanced at Jack. She was making it a point to avoid glancing at him or even thinking about him. She’d made it twenty-five minutes already. She could handle a few more. “That was a wonderful example of exercising your empowerment. Does anyone else have anything they would like to share? A moment when you realized you needed to speak up for yourself and did. Or maybe you simply realized it, but haven’t yet had the courage to make the stand. Either way, we’re here to listen.” Paige glanced around the group, careful not to let her gaze linger too long on Jenny Turnover, the newest addition to Sick and Tired.

Most of the group was comprised of women rebelling against their husbands, but Paige had the feeling that Jenny had more bothering her than a spouse nagging her to lose five pounds, or one that wanted his beer brought to him in a glass rather than a can. There was a glimmer of fear in Jenny’s eyes that Paige recognized all too well.

“Anyone? Remember, we’re here to help each other. To encourage and listen.” The group remained silent and Paige clapped her hands. “Well, then, let’s end today’s session with a few words of encouragement. As women, we need to speak up for ourselves and do what we think is right. We don’t have to fit into the mold that society has shaped for us. I hope you all remember that. And don’t forget, you are special. You’re entitled to the best things in life. Until next week, ladies.”

After a little chitchat, the group disbursed and Paige turned to gather up her notes.

She paused, every nerve in her body going on instant alert when she felt Jack’s hand on her arm. She turned toward him.

“Now I know what’s wrong with you. This,” he fluffed her ruffled sleeve, “is just a disguise. You’re really a man-hater.”

“I do not hate men. Just because I’m a capable woman and I encourage other women to be capable, doesn’t mean I don’t like the opposite sex.”

“You don’t like me.” He seemed proud of the fact.

“I don’t dislike you. You’re just not my type.”

“But you want me anyway.”

“I do not.”

“Oh really?” He fingered her nipple through the thin fabric of her dress.

She stepped back from his touch. “That’s just physical.”

“That’s exactly what I’m talking about.” And before she could say a word, his lips covered hers.

His mouth moved against hers, his tongue sweeping her bottom lip, begging her to open up and let him inside, and for a split second, she couldn’t think or even breathe. Her heart all but stopped beating and she just stood there, feeling him against her, coaxing her, seducing her.

His arms pulled her close and his body pressed the length of hers, his heat overwhelming her until her knees actually went limp. His tongue teased and his lips nibbled and she couldn’t stop her mouth from opening. He swept inside, tasting and stroking and stealing her common sense for a long, heart-pounding moment.

When he finally pulled away and stared down at her, she simply stared up at him.

“I was right.”

“About what?” she said, still dazed.

“You wanted to kiss me.”

“I…” The word yes was on the tip of her tongue, but it couldn’t quite make it any further. “I’m late,” she blurted. “I—I have to get back to the paper.” She snatched up her purse and notebook and left as fast as her feet could carry her.

She needed to breathe, to think, to figure out what the heck had just happened.

It was the worst kiss of her life.

IT HAD BEEN THE WORST KISS of Paige’s entire life.

Not the kiss itself, mind you. That had been terrific. Wonderful. Stupendous. Jack Mission knew exactly how to slant his mouth just so and stroke his tongue along the length of hers and lick…

She fought down a sudden burst of heat that pebbled her nipples and made her walk faster toward the safe refuge of the newspaper office.

No, it wasn’t the kiss itself that had been so horrible. It had been her reaction to it. The wonder she’d felt, the awe, the total cluelessness. Her mind had gone completely blank and she’d been dumbfounded as to what to do next. As if Jack Mission’s kiss had been her first kiss ever.

Pathetic.

True, it was the first kiss she’d had in months, but it wasn’t the first time she’d locked lips with a man. She knew how to kiss for pity’s sake.

Okay, so she’d only kissed three men and one qualified more as a boy, but she’d had many kisses since her very first during a game of spin the bottle at a birthday party when she’d been thirteen. She’d been married, for crying out loud.

Can’t you do anything right, woman?

The question echoed through her head and brought back a wave of anxiety. For so long, she hadn’t been able to do anything right. She hadn’t been able to dress appropriately or clean good enough or cook well enough or—

Water under the bridge.

She’d started a new life and broadened her horizons. Thanks to her weekly cooking lessons, she could actually do more than boil water. She could strip her no-wax floors better than Mr. Clean himself, and she actually wore more than just jeans and oversized T-shirts.

And the kissing?

Before she could dwell on the question, she heard a voice behind her. She slowed and turned in time to see Shelby gaining on her, his hat in hand.

“Hey, Shelby.”

“I hope I’m not keeping you from something. You look like you’re in an awful hurry, but I really wanted to talk to you about something.”

“I was just headed back to finish up a story. You can walk with me.”

“That’s okay. I’ve got a load of hay to drive back to my place. This’ll just take a second. Say, you did a good two-step the other night.”

“What?”

“I saw you dancing with Jack. You did a good box waltz.”

“That’s what I was doing?” Of course it was. She would have known a box waltz anywhere.

Except with Jack Mission as her partner.

He’d pulled her close and she’d been conscious of only one thing—him.

“Look, I was thinking that maybe, if you’re not busy next Friday night…”

Here it was. The moment she’d been waiting for. Shelby was actually going to ask her out.

“That is, I’ve been meaning to try this new steakhouse out on Route Five and I thought that if you like steak—”

“Geez, I’m late.” She made a big pretense of glancing at her watch. “I’ve got an interview over at City Hall with the sheriff.”

“Sure. I just thought that if you wanted to try—”

“Did you hear that?”

He glanced behind him. “What?”

“That noise. It sounded like Deb’s cat. She’s back at the newspaper office and she’s been so lonely with Deb out of town, she’s taken up howling.”

“They’ve only been gone a couple of days.”

“And the poor thing’s already grieving. I really need to see about her and then get to my interview. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.” Before he could get in another word, she turned and started down the street.

What the heck had she just done?

She’d been waiting for him to ask her out. Hoping for it.

But that was before the kiss. Before she’d realized how totally inept she was when it came to interacting with the opposite sex on a romantic level. She didn’t know how to kiss right! How could she go out with Shelby when a date was surely going to lead to an intimacy she was totally unprepared for.