Hidden Deep (10 page)

It was strange to hear someone talk about Grandma like that. A heavyset man with a red face he’d forgotten to shave in a few spots offered his take as well.

“Yep. Fact o’ business, we all used to wonder where Ben found such a beautiful girl. All that shiny hair and pretty skin and those big eyes. She didn’t even seem real. He never would say anything about it, though, ’cept to josh with us. Said he found her out in the woods, brought her home and taught her everything she knew… like pretty girls grow on trees. If I’da believed him for a second, I woulda been out there myself, chopping down hickories and lookin’ for another one.” He let out a big bellowing laugh, joined by appreciative guffaws from the other old men.

“Now I know where you get it from,” Nox whispered, leaning across the table, stretching his hand out so it landed near mine. I felt my face color with heat. He was
really
good at flustering me.

“That was a real shame about your grandpa, dying so young,” Mr. French said. “And Neena, well, I guess it was the shock or the grief, maybe some of both. Her hair went pure white after he died. She was only a young girl still, no more than twenty-five or so. Like I said, a shame. But she's done a’right for herself, I guess, even with all that. Got herself a purty little granddaughter, too. Tell her we said hello. I’ll get out of your way now. Nice to meet you, young lady. You take care, son.” He punctuated the last by tousling Nox’s hair, making Nox duck and blush like a little boy.

The man slowly made his way back to his table, where a checkerboard waited, surrounded by drained coffee cups. For a few moments, I was lost in thought about Grandma’s former life, before I was born or Mom was born, back when she’d been a young, beautiful girl.

“They’re funny, aren’t they?” Nox nodded toward the aged checkers players.

“Yeah, they’re great,” I said, coming back to the present. “So, I guess you’re a regular here?”

“You could say that.” He shrugged. “I eat pretty much every meal here, unless I have a gig. Then I eat at whatever bar we’re playing.”

I blinked in surprise. “You go out for every meal? That’s so expensive.”

“Well, I have to eat,” he said, almost apologetically.

“Your mom and dad don’t ever cook?”

“Oh… they’re dead. I live with some relatives, but I don’t really like to hang around their place.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” I looked down and fiddled with my napkin. I’d been feeling sorry for Grandma Neena, who was so young when her husband died, leaving her to raise my mom all alone. And here was a teenager with no parents, and apparently no one else who really cared for him—that was even worse.

“How long ago?” I asked softly.

Nox looked at me a few moments before speaking. For the first time since we’d met, I saw emotion swimming in his eyes. He opened his mouth, closed it again, inhaled deeply. “You know what? Dead parents are a real appetite-killer. Do we really want to talk about this right now?”

He clearly wanted to change the subject, and I wasn’t going to push it. “Not at all. So what do you like here? I’m a fan of the country ham and cheese omelet.”

“Yeah, that’s good—you can’t really go wrong. Dory's biscuits are fantastic. She makes a pretty mean BLT. The cheese grits are my favorite though.”

“Really? Cheese grits are like, the ultimate Southern food—you don’t sound like you’re from the South. You moved here from California, right?”

He nodded. “Los Angeles. The South’s growing on me, though. It’s different from what I expected.”

“You mean
everyone
here doesn’t live in a trailer and have only four teeth?”

He laughed, a guilty expression crossing his face. “Right. Well, a
few
people I’ve met kind of fit the description. Like Casey Culpepper—you know him?”

“Of course—he’s worn head-to-toe camo every day since the second grade.”

“Right. So, he noticed I don’t have a Southern accent. He said, ‘You’re not from around here, are ya?’ I said, ‘No,’ and he said, ‘You’re from out West, ain’t cha?’ I said, ‘Yes,’ and then he thought a while and said, ‘Arkansas?’ I guess it was as far west as his mind could stretch.”

Nox shook his head side-to-side, tickled. I couldn’t stop myself from noticing how attractive his face was, all lit up with humor. Intensified by his amusement, his eyes looked several shades of green and brown blended together, and his teeth flashed brightly.

I buried my face behind my menu, relieved to see Dory heading our way in the periphery.

“Can I get y’all some drinks?”

“I’ll have a Coke,” I said.

“Sweet tea for me.”

“Oh Nox honey, you sure? You know all we have is that instant stuff.” Dory waved her hand in a dismissive gesture. “I can’t brew it good to save my life. My momma’s sweet tea was always fine, but it must skip a generation—either that, or I was away too long. What I need is to get someone in here who can make it right.”

I felt a sudden stab of excitement. “Really?”

“Yeah.” She looked at me with one eyebrow raised. “You know somebody?”

“Me. I make sweet tea from my own recipe, and people always say it’s addictive, and I really need a job—”

Nox interrupted my ramble, grabbing Dory’s attention with one of his patented killer smiles. “I hear it’s unbelievable.”

She smiled back at him then at me. “Hired. When can you start?”

“Next week? When school’s out?” I couldn’t believe after all my searching it was going to be this easy.

Dory pulled the pen from behind her ear and scribbled on her pad. “Here’s my direct number. I’m making out the schedule tomorrow—give me a call and we’ll get you down for some hours. Nox—thank you for bringing her in, honey. Check’s on me today.”

Dory handed me the paper and left to place our drink orders. I looked over at Nox silently taking credit for “bringing me in.” He tilted his head back, surveying me with half-closed eyes, his arms folded across his chest.

“What did I tell you? One job, made to order.” A slow grin spread across his face. “You’re welcome.”

“Thank you.” I rolled my eyes and exaggerated the words. Actually, he had been awfully nice, considering we hardly knew each other. In a more serious tone I said, “Really—thank you—I appreciate it.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of
some
way to repay me.” He raised one dark brow.

Okay, I wasn’t
that
thankful. I lifted my chin and sassed him back. “I already have. You’re getting a free meal out of this. Enjoy.”

He grinned as if it was exactly the kind of comeback he’d been hoping for.

A waitress arrived to take our food orders. I went with the turkey sausage biscuit sliders. Nox ordered, and ordered, and ordered.

“What?” he said, noticing my stunned expression. “I’m a growing boy.”

I shook my head and took a sip of the coke our waitress had delivered. How much more growing could he possibly do?

“So… you left early the other night. You missed the best part of the show,” Nox said.

Fun and games over. I pushed the salt and pepper shakers back and forth on the table in front of me then straightened the sugar packets in their clear plastic holder, unable to meet his eyes. “Yeah, I had to get home. We weren’t even supposed to be there. I’m sure you didn’t end up lonely.”

A long pause. “Well, after I played a song just for you, the least you could have done was stick around a little while.”

My gaze flew to his face.
Oh help.
What did he want with me? I’d seen his type before. A guy like him would devour me like a T-Rex snacking on one of those little chicken dinosaurs.

I took a second to think of a response that would show him I wasn’t affected by him the way other girls so obviously were. When he saw I wasn’t buying his whole smooth-player thing, he’d get bored and move on to the next victim. God knew there was a line of hopefuls a mile long.

“Maybe I’m not much of a music lover.” I shrugged. “Maybe I’m into jocks instead of musicians.”

He shook his head with a knowing grin. “You liked it. I could tell that from across the room. And—if you actually
were
a jock-worshipper, you’d already be hooked up with one of those meatheads dragging their knuckles down the hallways at school.”

A laugh burst from my throat. “That’s not a very nice thing to say about our student athletes. Where’s your team spirit?” And where was I getting all this sassiness? It must’ve been a reaction to his unparalleled cockiness. I was starting to enjoy myself. “Maybe I’m discreet. Maybe I’m meeting Mr. Jock when I leave here.” I arched one brow and gave him my best “so-there” look.

“Touche.” Nox laughed. He put his elbows on the tabletop, leaning toward me. “Listen, we should do this again sometime—go out to eat in Oxford or do something else—whatever you want.”

What?
My heart performed a complete somersault. Once again Nox had surprised me. Even if I hadn’t met Lad, my first thought would have been
No freaking way
. Considering what just hearing Nox’s voice had done to me in a crowded nightclub, I didn’t want to find out how I’d react to him in private. I was way out of my depth with this guy. And he knew it.

“Oh, I… I don’t know about that.”

“Why not? Has anyone ever told you—you should take more chances? You might be happy you did.” He gave me possibly the most charming smile I’d ever seen. And those
eyes
.

I hesitated before answering. Back to sugar-packet-stacking.
Think straight, Ryann.
“The last time I saw you, you were hypnotizing an entire roomful of college women. What could you possibly want with me?”

Nox didn’t answer for a minute, and I didn’t necessarily like the way he was looking at me. Then his whole demeanor changed. He actually reached across the table and closed one of my hands inside his.

His tone was soft and… humble. “Ryann, I think you’ve read me all wrong. Maybe I’ve come across as sort of a player—”

I pulled my hand back. “You think?”

“Okay, now I
know
you’ve gotten the wrong impression of me—if you only knew—” He paused, seeming to search for words on the diner’s ceiling. His gaze dropped back to me. “Tell you what—let’s start over. You haven’t even seen the real me yet. All I want is to get to know you better—be friends.”

I didn’t know what was going on, but after what I’d seen of Nox’s arsenal, I wasn’t about to fall for the harmless-little-me act.
Time for emergency avoidance maneuvers
.

I pulled out my cell phone and checked the time. “You know what? I have to go.”

“Ryann,” he groaned, lifting a hand and letting it fall to the tabletop. “Come on—”

“Really. I didn’t think I’d be here so long, and I actually do have somewhere else to be.”

“What about your biscuits?”

“You eat them. Growing boy—right?” I slid out of the booth and pulled my purse with me. My phone fell in the process, clattering loudly to the floor. Feeling my face heat, I picked it up. “Thanks again for the help with the job thing. See you at school, okay?”

I was speaking unnaturally fast, backing toward the door, and bumped into the coat rack near our booth. Mortified, I turned and kept going.

As I speed-walked away, Nox called out, “That’s okay. I’ll take a rain check. I have some local housewives to hypnotize this afternoon, anyway.” His smoky laugh followed me out onto Main Street.

Take more chances
. Twice in one day I’d gotten the same advice from two very different sources. And I was actually thinking of following it. Not with Nox. With Lad.

As I approached the natural pool, I spotted him sitting on a boulder waiting. He looked up and broke into a bone-liquifying smile. It took every milliliter of self-control I had not to run to him. This was getting out of hand. I seriously needed to practice some self-talk.
Icing on the cake…

I forced myself to slow down, but Lad jumped up and quickly closed the distance between us. He swept me up in a full-body hug, wrapping me completely in his strong arms. He radiated warmth, his body hard muscle everywhere we touched.

“Ow—my ribs—you’re crushing the Thermos up under them.” I’d made a fresh batch of sweet tea before going out to meet him. And yes, I did put in extra sugar.

Lad pulled away immediately and reached to cover my ribcage gently with his large hand.

Oh… Icing…
It took me a few moments to think clearly. “Um, here.” I managed to fumble the bottle to him.

We sat down together on the rock. Lad’s face glowed with anticipation. He took an enormous swallow, and his look of rapture that followed actually made me blush.

“This is wonderful.” He took another healthy drink. “It reminds me—” Lad hopped to his feet. “I want to give
you
something, too.” He pulled a small vial out of his waistband and held it up.

I recognized it in a flash of distant memory. “This is the drink you gave me… when we first met?” I reached out to take it, suffused in a dreamy blend of joy and relief. It really
had
all happened, exactly the way I remembered it. It had not been hypothermia. Not imagination.

“Taste it.” Lad sounded eager, impatient. “Not a big drink—a tiny bit.”