Читать книгу Tempting Janey - Mary Baxter Lynn - Страница 7

“I wish I were built like you.”

Robin gave her friend Beverly Olson an exasperated look. “You look fine the way you are.”

“I look fat the way I am,” Beverly responded in a sarcastic tone.

Underneath that sarcasm, Robin picked up on the note of despair in her friend’s voice. She stopped what she was doing, walked over and sat beside Beverly on the steps of her front porch. An uneasy silence fell between them.

Beverly seemed unusually sensitive about her weight today, Robin thought. Maybe it was because the first big game was imminent, and Beverly was getting nervous about performing in front of the home folks. For whatever reason, Robin was at a loss as to how to comfort her.

She and Beverly had more or less established a set time to practice their routines in Bev’s front yard. This Saturday was no exception.

“How do you stay so damn skinny?” Beverly asked, giving Robin a playful nudge on the shoulder. “You eat like you’ve been felling trees and don’t gain an ounce.”

Robin smiled, glad to see her friend’s good humor return. She knew, however, that Beverly was really serious when it came to her weight problem.

“You might need to lose a few pounds,” Robin said, “but you’re still the best one on the squad.”

“Baloney.”

“No, it’s not baloney.” Robin stood and peered down at Beverly. “You’re as limber as a rag doll and can do any routine perfectly on the first try. Trust me, that counts for something.”

“Thanks, but I’d rather be thin and clumsy.”

Robin placed her hands on her hips and pretended to be offended. “Are you saying I’m clumsy?”

“Nah,” Beverly replied, her grin sheepish. “You’ve got it all together.”

“That’s baloney, too. I’m the one Mrs. Morrison’s always ragging.”

“Well, what do you expect? She’s blind in one eye and can’t see out of the other.”

They both giggled, then sobered.

“I guess we’d better get back to the grindstone,” Beverly said, getting up. “This coming Friday’s looming large.”

“Right. And since I haven’t quite gotten the hang of that new step, I need help.”

Robin didn’t really, but she wanted Beverly to feel needed. In spite of Beverly’s weight, Robin thought her best friend was pretty. Beverly was tall, with mid-length, sandy-colored hair that was silky and shiny. Her eyes were a dark gray, and her skin was flawless. Most of all, she had a sharp wit and sense of humor that made her a blast to be around.

Robin adored her, especially since Beverly was the only one who had befriended her when she’d returned from Colorado. Most of the others in the class had treated her like an outcast.

They were just jealous, Beverly had told her, because she was so “everything” they weren’t. Robin hadn’t believed that for a second—but she didn’t know what she would have done if Beverly hadn’t become her friend.

Now, in their senior year, their friendship had deepened. They shared everything except clothes.

“What’s churning in that brain of yours?” Beverly asked. “You’re staring holes through me.”

“Sorry,” Robin said. “I was just thinking about how tough it was when I came back here, and how you got me through those miserable times.”

Beverly chuckled. “I loved it the first day you tried out for the team. You were great, and most of my so-called friends were green with envy. And I enjoyed every minute of their misery.”

“You’re awful.”

“No, I’m truthful. Eloise and entourage needed some competition. And you gave it to them. It was a hoot.”

Robin’s features clouded. “Most of them still don’t like me.”

“So what? Who needs them? All they think about is guys—which one is going to get in their panties next.” Beverly paused and grinned. “Oops, my mistake. They don’t even wear panties.”

Robin giggled. “I hate to agree with you, but I do.”

“Speaking of Eloise and company, they just drove up.”

Robin peered over her shoulder, feeling her heart drop to her toes. The afternoon was ruined, for sure. She hated the competition that went on among the drill team, mainly the catty jealousy. But it existed, and she had to face it or get sucked under.

“Wonder what we did to deserve such luck?” Beverly muttered, as four girls piled out of a Lexus sports coupe and walked up.

“Hey, what’s going on?” Eloise Frazier asked, batting her big brown eyes and smiling her fake smile, appearing as innocent as a newborn babe.

Robin knew better. The captain of the drill team was as innocent as a hooker on Sunset Boulevard. And she was up to something. It was only a matter of time before she and Beverly found out what.

“We’re just taking a break from practicing,” Beverly said.

“Want us to watch?” Sally, another of the girls, asked.

“Nope,” Beverly said. “Not unless y’all want to perform for us.”

Another of the girls spoke up. “We don’t need any more practice. We’ve got the routine down.”

“Bully for you,” Beverly said.

Robin knew a verbal slinging match was not far off, and while Beverly could more than handle the situation, Robin didn’t want to be part of it. So she smiled at the fourth girl, Mandy Taylor, then changed the subject. “Is that your car? It’s awesome.”

Mandy returned the smile. “Actually, it’s my mom’s.”

Of the four girls, all officers on the drill team, Mandy was salvageable, Robin thought. When the girl wasn’t around Eloise, she could be sweet.

“Lucky you, to get to drive it,” Robin added, thinking of the older, much less desirable model she drove. Her dad worked for a car dealership but he certainly hadn’t bought her a new car. And her mother couldn’t have, even if she’d wanted to. Robin suspected her mom was just managing to squeak by.

“My parents are getting me a BMW,” Eloise chimed in.

“That’s nice,” Robin forced herself to say in an even tone, though she dared not look at Beverly for fear they would burst out laughing. Eloise just had to be one up on everyone. She was truly a pain in the butt, though sometimes Robin actually felt sorry for her, because she always had to be the center of attention. What a heavy burden to bear.

“Hey, look who just drove up,” said Jodie Tipton, the last of the four to speak.

All eyes darted to the street and watched as a truck pulled into the drive.

“That’s my brother, Cody,” Beverly said. “And it looks like he’s got Chad with him.”

Robin’s heart skipped a beat at the mention of Chad Burnette. It beat even faster when the senior star quarterback climbed out of the truck.

To die for.

That description fit him to a tee. He was big and brawny, with longish dark-blond hair and green eyes. Even though he was cocky and self-assured and knew without a doubt that he was good-looking, Robin didn’t care.

He didn’t know that she was alive on planet Earth, though, which she did care about. She’d had a mad crush on him since the first time she saw him. Although they had been introduced at a party last year, she couldn’t recall his having spoken to her since.

Following Beverly’s haphazard attempt at introducing her brother to everyone, Eloise asked, “Hey, Chad, how’s it going?”

Robin knew the two of them had been an item for several months. Then, rumors had it, Chad had dumped Eloise, but, Eloise, though furious, hadn’t stopped caring about him.

“It’s going,” Chad drawled, his eyes seemingly scoping out each of the girls.

When Robin felt his gaze settle on her, she swallowed hard.

“Do I know you?” he asked.

“Chad, honey,” Eloise blatantly interrupted, “how ’bout letting Cody drop you off by my house when you leave here?”

His eyes never left Robin’s face, though his words were obviously meant for Eloise. “Not interested.”

Robin flinched at his rudeness, while Eloise sucked in her breath loud enough for everyone to hear. Then everyone else seemed to start talking at once.

But Robin couldn’t have spoken if her life had been in jeopardy, for Chad had walked over to her and was now staring down into her eyes.

“Have we ever met?” he asked.

Robin licked her dry lips. “Actually, yes.”

“I must’ve had a brain fart, ’cause I sure don’t remember.”

“Hell, Burnette,” Cody chimed in, “you don’t even have a brain.”

“Cut the crap,” Chad said, still not taking his eyes off Robin.

“Yeah, big brother,” Beverly said in a firm but good-natured tone. “Butt out.”

“So, Robin,” Chad said, speaking for her ears alone, “you going with anyone?”

Robin swabbed at her lips again. “Uh, no.”

“Can I call you?”

“That would be great,” Robin replied in a breathy voice, her insides going haywire.

“Hey, Chad, let’s go.”

He flicked Robin on the chin and winked. “Later, then.”

It was after Chad had turned and walked off that she caught the full force of Eloise’s vindictive glare. A chill darted through her.

How did he always manage to wade in the deep stuff?

Dillon had asked himself that question several times already and still had no answer. Before long he was going to need hip boots.

First, he’d discovered he was going to have to be much more patient when it came to finding out who’d broken into the lab. He’d made his list, all right, and even done some snooping. So far, though, he’d come up empty-handed.

Then he’d come face to face with Janey Mayfield, who had treated him as if he had a communicable disease. Her attitude shouldn’t have rankled, but it did. Just who the hell did she think she was? She had no right to pass judgment on him, though it was obvious she didn’t see it that way.

What a damn awkward moment. When he’d realized who owned the candy shop, he’d wanted to turn around and get the hell out. That absurd reaction, however, had lasted only a moment, his good breeding and common sense coming to his rescue.

Though it had been years since he’d last seen her, she appeared much the same—in looks, anyway. While never beautiful, she had always been attractive—and still was, though she appeared more on the thin side than he remembered. However, her curves were in the right places. He’d noticed that, much to his chagrin.

Of course her hairstyle had changed. She now wore her reddish-brown hair shorter and tousled, giving her a softer, sexier look. But the real change was in her clear brown eyes. They reflected a guarded intensity that hadn’t been there before. But then, he couldn’t blame her for that.

What he could blame her for was her attitude toward him, and for refueling his own painful memories.

Now he was sitting in a restaurant with another woman, having dinner, when he would rather be at home. Alone.

“Dillon.”

The sound of Patricia’s irritated voice brought him back to the moment with a start. “Mmm?”

“What’s the matter with you?” she demanded. “You’ve hardly said a dozen words since we got here, and we’ve finished our meal.”

She was right, he admitted silently. His mind and heart weren’t in the evening. Crossing paths with Janey yesterday had definitely soured his mood, which was ludicrous, but a fact nonetheless.

“Sorry,” he said lamely, feeling more like a heel than ever.

“I don’t think so,” she responded bluntly.

“I really am sorry if I’m ruining your birthday. It’s just that I’ve got a lot of things on my mind.”

She frowned. “Obviously I’m not one of those ‘things.’”

He shifted uncomfortably. “Look, Pat—”

She held up her hand. “I know we’re just friends. You’ve made that plain from the beginning, but—” This time she stopped her own flow of words with a shrug. “And I’m okay with that—for right now,” she added hurriedly, giving him a teasing smile. “But I’m not giving up, so be warned.”

His gut instinct told him to douse that hope with the brutal truth, but he refrained. After all, this was her birthday, and he couldn’t bring himself to totally destroy the evening.

He hoped he wouldn’t regret his actions later. As he’d told Allie, Patricia was a friend and nothing else. He cared about her, but he felt no chemistry, sexual or otherwise, which he deemed necessary in any relationship.

That was unfortunate, too, since Pat was a woman who had a lot going for her. She was several years younger than he, divorced, with no children. She was attractive, too, with short black hair and dark eyes. And she owned her own business, a successful beauty salon. He sensed she would marry him in a minute. For that reason, he decided it wouldn’t be wise to take her out after tonight.

“Hey, I’m still here, remember?”

He gave her a sheepish grin. “I know. All I can do is apologize again.”

“How about ordering coffee, instead?”

That was when Dillon realized the waiter was hovering over his shoulder. “Works for me,” he quipped, then did just that.

After the waiter had disappeared, his eyes accidentally wandered toward the door of the restaurant. Suddenly he sucked in his breath and held it.

“What’s wrong?” Pat asked, a frown marring her features.

He cleared his throat. “Nothing.” Liar, he told himself, watching Janey Mayfield and her daughter thread their way between tables, heading in their direction.

Great, he thought with disgust. Just great.