Not So New in Town (13 page)

“Okay. That was really bad. What did you do?”
I
don’t want to know!
her head screamed.

“What could I do?” She gave Lucy a resigned look. “I was only twenty-two at the time, and he was about twenty-seven. He is…was a popular man with a great career ahead of him, and I was just a nobody. I feared how it would affect Parker. So I kept my mouth shut…spread a bunch of silly rumors to all the right people around town, and went back to work.”

Man.
Lucy’s mind hit a wall over the word
man
. Popular
man
. Who the hoot had Julia gotten mixed up with? This didn’t sound like a stupid high school girl having sex with another stupid high school boy down by the lake. This sounded worse…a lot worse.

“I’m only telling you so you’ll know why I’ve kept Parker in the dark. I’m aware it’s wrong, and he’s old enough to know the truth, but I can’t seem to go there with him…yet. And now this pregnancy, which I think Parker resents.” Julia pressed her hand against her belly. “I’m at my wits’ end. I need help with Parker. I don’t want him to hate me because I screwed up. I don’t want to raise a worthless juvie who turns into a worthless adult.”

Lucy nodded. She understood. But how could she help? How could she correct this? “Okay, tell me. Who’s Parker’s dad?” she asked above a whisper.

Julia licked her dry lips. “Joe Monahan. He’s Parker’s father. Was. He’s dead now.”

Drawing a blank, Lucy asked, “Who? Do I know him?”

“Coach Monahan? Remember the football coach at school?”

Lucy’s mouth worked, but no sound came out for several seconds. “
Coach
Monahan?
As in Harmony High’s winningest coach in the history of Harmony High? That Coach Monahan?”

“The one and only.”

“How…where…why…how did it happen? Did he rape you?” Lucy leaned forward and grabbed Julia’s hand, squeezing it hard. “Because if he did…I will dig up his sorry flat ass from whatever grave he’s buried in right
now
and kill him again with my bare hands.”

Julia squeezed her hand back. “No. Stop. It wasn’t like that. It was consensual. I knew what I was doing, and believe me, I wanted it.” Julia gave a brief, sad smile. “I chased him…he didn’t stand a chance.”

“But, Julia, you were barely an adult. He should’ve known better.”

“Lucy, he wasn’t much older. He started coaching right out of college. I was only eighteen when the affair started and he was twenty-three. How many twenty-three-year-old guys did you know who exercised any common sense?”

Not many. Still didn’t. “Did you have a long…fling or whatever?” Lucy couldn’t quite put a name to it. Affair sounded too grown-up for what Julia had done back in high school.

“Long enough. Long enough for me to fall head over heels, and for him to get tired of me and move on.”

“That slime bucket! He’d better be glad he’s dead.” Julia chuckled at Lucy’s staunch defense of her. “How did he die? I hope it was long and painful.”

Julia’s expression sobered. “It was. He had stomach cancer. I heard he suffered in the end. He left a wife and two kids.”

Now she felt terrible. She didn’t wish that kind of pain on anyone. No matter how angry she got. “Three kids. You forgot Parker.”

“No. I’ve never forgotten Parker.” Julia’s long, dark hair brushed her shoulders as she shook her head. “But I’m going to lose him if I don’t get some help. That’s why I need you.”

Lucy fought the urge to check over her shoulder to see if someone else was in the room. In all the years she’d known her, Julia had never once admitted that she needed Lucy. Of course, she’d asked her to come home because she was bedridden, and Babs couldn’t be bothered to leave the NASCAR circuit to help her only daughter. And Lucy had jumped at the chance. Not because she’d been dumped and was out of a job, but because she’d wanted to reconnect with her family and make things up to Julia. But Julia had never said she
needed
Lucy, like tonight, wearing a solemn expression with tears brimming in her eyes.

“I’m here. But what can I do? Short of handcuffing him to my side, I’m at a loss. He’s not exactly too happy to have me babysitting as it is.”

“I know it’s tough, but you won’t be doing it alone. First of all, I’ll help. Even stuck in this freakin’ bed. Make sure he comes in to see me at least twice a day. I want to keep talking to him.”

“Okay, that will kill about thirty minutes. What about the remaining twenty-three-and-a-half hours?”

“Football practice will take up a lot of time, but you still can’t handle him, I know. That’s why you need to join forces.”

“With whom? The Harmony Huggers? The Happy Hookers, that group of old ladies who crochet every day at the Daily Grind?”

Julia ignored her. “Parker needs a strong male influence in his life. Not those derelicts he hangs out with.”

“Man? What man do I know?” Lucy stopped at the gleam that sparked in Julia’s blue eyes.
Please
don’t say what I think you’re going to say.

“Brogan.”

She’d said it.

Monday afternoon, Brogan whistled as he pulled the baking pans from the oven with his fresh batch of hot, crunchy granola. The kitchen smelled of honey, oats, and the bread Margo had baked earlier.

“What’s got you so happy, Mr. Wideberth?” Margo asked in her rough voice. “It’s not like we got a herd of customers busting down that front door.”

“Changes are coming. We will soon have just that…customers busting down our door.”

“How? You gonna perform like Magic Mike and strip? I might be offended, but most of the women in this town would eat the granola right off your overly buffed chest.”

“Margo, your thoughts must keep you awake at night. Not only am I not stripping…ever. But the thought of having granola eaten off my chest is beyond gross.” A vision of Lucy leaning over him, long hair acting as a drape and a smile lighting her face as she licked granola off his bare chest made his cock twitch. Brogan pinched the bridge of his nose.
Stupid, Reese.
Kissing Lucy had been a huge mistake. A huge, awesome, mind-blowing mistake. Because now he knew exactly how she tasted and felt and smelled, and he wanted more. He wanted all of Lucy…heart and soul, and that scared the living crap right out of him.

“Granola, honey, maple syrup…whatever. You need to stir up something around here. What’s Javier working on? Maybe you guys could do a routine together. The Latin Lover and the American Gigolo.”

“Two words. Sick. Mind.” Brogan shook his head at Margo’s flour-spattered face. “You just keep baking and let me worry about sales. Besides, I’m bringing someone on board to help with that very problem.”

Margo peeled off her apron. “Good. Need to check supplies,” she said, lifting a clipboard from a peg on the wall. “Hello, there.”

Brogan glanced up, and Lucy stood inside the back door with a manila folder pressed to her chest. Relief flooded Brogan, since he’d had no idea if she’d show or not.

“I’m Margo, in charge of baked goods, and you must be what we’ve all been waiting for.”

Lucy gave a questioning look. “Lucy Doolan. Nice to meet you.” She extended her hand.

Margo smiled, shaking Lucy’s hand. “So you’re Lucy…heard a lot about you. Welcome aboard…I hope,” she said before disappearing into the stockroom.

Brogan brushed his hands on the apron tied around his waist, then removed it as Lucy’s slanted gray eyes pinned him with a long, assessing look.

Clearing his throat, he said, “Glad you could make it.” He gestured to the metal door that led to his office. “We can talk in here.”

Lucy nodded.

He pushed the door closed, separating them from the kitchen, into a small, cramped room. “Have a seat.” He scooped up some loose folders on the guest chair and stacked them neatly on top of the gray metal desk. He dropped into the black leather executive chair. “You have a decision for me?” He rested his hands on top of the desk, trying to strike a pose of complete control when he felt anything but. In the closed-off office, the scent of Lucy’s citrus filled the room, making it hard to concentrate on business and not the full bottom lip she gnawed with her teeth. He tried not to stare, but everywhere his gaze traveled felt unsafe. From the nautical-striped blue-and-white silk tank top over a short white skirt, down to the patent-leather orange sandals. Thin gold-and-turquoise bangles jingled on her wrists, and a knotted gold necklace circled her neck. A step up from the Lucy of yesterday morning, walking in hot-pink jogging shorts and a black T-shirt with “I will cut you” across her chest, belting classic Blondie off-key. He and Parker had laughed so hard they could barely finish their run.

“That depends.”

He arched a brow. “On what?”

“On whether you accept my terms.”

Brogan bit back a smile. He had a few terms of his own, but he didn’t think she’d be in the mood to hear them right now. Plastering his business mask on, he nodded. “Whatcha got?”

“Okay. Well, the only way I’ll work for you is if you agree to the following.” Lucy opened the manila folder in her lap and tipped up the list on top. “I know this job is only part-time, but you’re gonna get more than you bargained for. I’ll be putting in long hours late at night, especially with scheduling the social media.”

Brogan nodded. He understood Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, and other social outlets needed twenty-four-hour surveillance.

“I’ll work for forty dollars an hour.” Lucy gauged his reaction, but Brogan had won many games of chance. His poker face didn’t give anything away.

She glanced at her sheet. “I’ll need an expense account. Most of what I’ll be doing will be online and not wasting advertising dollars, but I’ll also be setting up promotions and meetings, and my expenses will need to be covered for travel, food, and so on.” She shifted in her seat. “Which brings up transportation.” Brogan leaned forward but remained quiet. This list got better and better. Little Lucy was angling for a car, and he didn’t blame her. Her old broken-down clunker probably wasn’t worth repairing.

“Um, I’m going to need a car, strictly for business purposes.” Her hand fluttered. “For personal use, I’ll drive Julia’s or mine, if Grady ever returns from his marathon fishing trip.” She crossed her legs. “And if this becomes full-time…and I’m not saying that it will, but if it does…I want benefits.” She paused and drew a deep breath that did amazing things to her gorgeous chest.

“Is that it?”

She nodded and slid the paper across the desk.

He picked up the list and read over it. “Okay, now I have some terms.” Lucy straightened in her seat and nodded, pressing her lips together. “First of all, since you’re new to the job and I’ve never seen your work, you’ll start out at thirty-two an hour.”

Lucy’s head shook, making her dangling gold-and-turquoise earrings dance. “Thirty-five, and that’s my final offer.”

“Done.” Startled, she sat up straighter. He held back a smile.

“Second, as long as you submit an expense report to Javier and he approves, your expenses will be covered. However, if you turn in any receipts from Burger King, McDonald’s, or Toot-N-Tell for some garbage you consumed other than an iced tea, it will not be covered.” She squirmed in her seat and pretended to study her nails.

“All right, but I draw the line at tree bark and seaweed. Just because I’m marketing this organic, granola-based lifestyle does not mean I have to eat, drink, and sleep it 24-7. You cannot fire me if you catch me eating KFC.”

He dipped his head. “As for transportation. Not a problem. Any time you need a car for work, you can drive mine or Javier’s. They’re both company cars.”

“Really? But what will you drive?”

He shrugged. “I’ll figure something out. I might buy a truck.”

“Cool. I love your car,” she said, wearing a look of satisfaction.

“And our benefits package is very comprehensive. Do we have a deal?” He extended his hand across the desk, and she slipped her small, cool palm in his. He wanted to warm it up, along with some other choice body parts, but his fantasy fizzled as she quickly retracted it. “Good. Javier will draw up the papers. Can you start tomorrow?”

“Um, there’s one more thing.”

“What? New wardrobe? House? Trip to the South of France?”

“Wow. Could I really have those?”

“Shit no.”

“Alrighty then. But in order for me to sign those papers, you’re going to have to agree to two more things.”

Something cold and hard settled in his gut. Something that felt a lot like dread. The uncomfortable look that came over Lucy didn’t make it any better. He braced himself, gripping the top of the desk.

“You need to help mentor Parker, and you can never kiss me again,” she said in one fast breath.

Lucy had never tugged a lion’s tail before, but as soon as the last words tumbled from her mouth, she watched in fascination as Brogan’s head snapped back, electrifying his tawny mane, making him look like he wanted to tear her limbs off with his bare teeth.

“No deal,” he growled as he shoved back his chair. “Those terms do not belong anywhere on an employer/employee contract.” He paced across the speckled linoleum tile floor, retracing his steps until he faced her, stirring the air with his agitated movements. “What brought this on? Have you been talking to Julia?” Hands splayed on hips, his pose threatening.

Lucy leaned back to escape being burned by fire-breathing Brogan. “Sure. I talked to Julia. She’s at her wits’ end, and so am I. You seem to be the only one around who can reach him. I don’t know anything about raising a fifteen-year-old boy.”

“And you think I do?”

Lucy jumped at his bellow. “Lower your voice. You want people to hear?”

Brogan rubbed his forehead. “Jesus.” He turned the lock on the office door. Pressing back as if to bar her exit, he faced her. “Look, Lucy, I can’t help you with Parker the way you want me to. I know I worked out with him these last two days, but I was only trying to help you.”

Exactly. She needed help. He’d be the perfect solution.

He pointed a finger at her. “I know what you’re thinking. Forget it. I’m not acting as a mentor or some surrogate dad. No way.”

A flash of pain shadowed by regret clouded his strained face. A tense muscle jumped along his jaw. Pictures of the past showed in his murky green eyes. That same look had haunted Lucy the night on the bleachers after his big win. She would’ve done anything to erase that pained expression. And she almost had…by kissing him. But Julia had expunged that idea from her mind permanently…until recently. Until Saturday night against the front door, when Brogan had kissed all sanity away. Now she couldn’t think of anything else.

Lucy moved in front of him and said in a quiet voice, “He needs a strong male figure in his life. It’s so obvious he’s screaming for attention.”

“Look, Lucy…concerning strong male figures, I’m a little screwed up. I didn’t have one in my life, and until my sophomore year in college, I’d never even met my dad. I wouldn’t count on me as solid mentor material. I’ve got a business to run. I don’t have time to babysit a teenager.”

“It won’t be all day. If you could spend a couple of hours with him in the late afternoons and evenings, then maybe we can keep the kid out of juvenile detention.”

“Lucy, the kid barely likes me. Besides, spending time with him will only give him false hope. Like I’m always going to be there for him.” Brogan pushed away from the door and resumed his restless pacing. “I’m not. I’m leaving Harmony. My disappearing will screw him up even more. Believe me, I know.” The brief flash of torment returned to his face. The idea of Brogan leaving Harmony for good twisted Lucy’s heart into a tight pretzel. “Where’s his real father?” he asked.

Dead. Buried. Rotting in hell. Lucy held back the shudder, recalling Julia’s account. Not Lucy’s story to tell.

She rolled the bracelets on her wrist. “I can’t say.”

“Can’t or won’t?”

“Both. Listen, it will only be until Julia’s free and moving about. Her baby is due in late September. Once she’s back on her feet, she won’t need us anymore. Parker goes to school in a few weeks—”

“Exactly! Not enough time for me to get involved.” Brogan crossed his arms as if to block any other options.

“Wrong. It’s the perfect time. He needs to get his head on straight. Spending time with Harmony’s football god will do him a world of good. You can talk football. Y’all can do that guy-bonding thing…spitting, burping…scratching.” He rolled his eyes, but that didn’t deter Lucy. She had to sell this for Julia and Parker’s sake. “And share all the stupid things you used to do as a teenager. He can learn from your dumb mistakes.”

“Stupid things? What stupid things?” A hint of a smile appeared. The discomfort and strain in his stance began to seep away.

“I don’t know. Tell him how you used to take his mom down by the lake every Friday night to make out.” Brogan’s brows rose. “On second thought, don’t. That might scar the kid for life.”

“How’d you know about that?” His determined step forward brought him so close she noticed the rough shadow of his beard growing in and the smooth weave that made up his green cotton polo shirt.

“Everyone knew you took Julia to the lake. Not much stays secret around here. One time Julia lost her bra, and Wanda and I—”

Like a laser, his green eyes fried her.
Ruh-roe.
TMI.

“How’d you know about Julia’s bra? I remember that night, and we were the only ones there.”

“Julia told me, she—”

“Bullshit. Julia didn’t tell you anything. She was mad as hell and didn’t want anyone finding out. She made me go back to look for it, and it wasn’t there.”

Lucy swallowed hard. She remembered like it was yesterday. Wanda and she had hidden in the brush to spy on Brogan, and Wanda had raced toward the edge of the lake and snatched Julia’s bra, swinging it in the air like a victory flag.

Brogan snagged her wrist and pulled her into his chest. “You were there, weren’t you? You watched us make out, and then you stole her bra.”

Mesmerized by the look of hunger he raked over her and the heavy hand pressing on her back, she whispered, “N-no. W-Wanda stole her bra.”

“But you watched.” His gaze dipped to her mouth. “Did you like what you saw? Did it make you hot?”

Lucy gasped and tried to pull free, but he held her tight. “It wasn’t like that. We hadn’t planned—”

“Would you like to go down by the lake with me, Little Lucy?” He sounded all smooth and rough, like hot, sizzling, sweaty sex against the wall. He slid his hand up her arm to the back of her neck, pushing his fingers through her hair and holding her head immobile. “We could make out. All hot and frantic. I could lay you down on my blanket and feel you up,” he murmured, his mouth pressed below her ear, sending shivers up her spine.

“This is not smart,” she managed to choke out. Her traitorous body disagreed. The simple touch of his breath against her skin lit desire in every fiber she possessed, swamping her resistance.

“But it feels great,” he said against her jaw as he nibbled his way toward her mouth. His lips brushed hers, and his tongue teased the corners before sweeping inside. Cold, hard metal hit her butt as Brogan pushed her against the desk and lifted her on top. Lucy squirmed, hating the tight skirt that prevented her legs from wrapping around his lean waist. A moan escaped her throat as his hot palm seared the outside of her thigh, pushing her skirt up and out of the way. Wrapping her legs around his waist, Lucy shivered as he slid his hand around to cup her butt. The weight of her breasts molded to his chest. Her nipples tightened, and heat pooled between her legs. He tasted a little of berries, and a lot of longing and lust. He pushed between her thighs, rubbing his stiff erection against her heat. All rational thought had left the building. He wanted her. She became a puddle of molten goo. It had been a long time since someone had wanted
her
.

It took several raps against the door before reason and regret penetrated Lucy’s hunger-starved, muddled head.

She pushed against his chest. “Stop.”

“Hey, boss man, we’ve got customers asking questions. Adjust yourself and get on out here,” Margo said through the door.

Brogan straightened, removing his hand slowly from her bottom and the mess he’d made of her hair. “I’ll be out in a minute,” he called in a husky voice.

“Whatever you say,” Margo answered.

Paralyzed, Lucy’s brain slowly started to awake, snapping, popping, and zinging. Brogan adjusted himself inside his khakis. “This isn’t over. We’re not done negotiating,” he said as if he had every intention of picking right back up where they left off.

Sweet, merciful MoonPies!
Heat prickled her chest and neck. Not sexual heat, but embarrassing heat. Lucy slid from the desktop, tugging down her hiked-up skirt. She inched away from the crush of her life, who held the power to overwhelm her, make her wish for things she’d never have, and then split her heart wide open. “There’s nothing else to negotiate. Either you accept my terms, or you don’t,” she said in a shockingly calm voice.

In agitation, he scrubbed a hand over his mouth. “I’ll send Javier in to draw up the papers.” He moved toward the door.

“You promise to help with Parker?”

With a hand on the knob, he peered over his shoulder. “Yes, I’ll help you with Parker,” he said with all the enthusiasm of a man going in for a rectal exam.

“And…the other.” She cocked her head.

Desire and the promise of exceptional, wild gorilla sex filled his fiery green eyes. “Just sign the papers.”

“But—” The door closed behind him. Legs collapsing, Lucy sat in the chair, wondering how her life had gone from pigeon cuckoo to spider-monkey crazy.

* * *

On Thursday night, Brogan stood against the back wall next to the kitchen door, with his arms folded, surveying his crowded store. Lucy had been on the job for only three days, and Brogan watched as the residents of Harmony swilled samples of BetterBites organic beers, ate organic cheeses on homemade bread and crackers, and sampled his granola. Yep. The store was packed. Why? Because this Thursday night was Singles Samplings, followed by Friday night Prepared Meals and Name That Tune with the Harmony Huggers. All courtesy of his new marketing guru…Lucy.

Several single women swarmed Javier by the front counter as he explained the benefits of healthy eating. Brogan watched Arlene Tomlin in leopard hot pants, denim vest, and pink cowboy hat squeeze Javier’s bicep as she cooed something in his ear. Brogan’s stomach soured at the sight of the Ardbuckle twins, Opal and Emma, in matching bowling outfits with Gutter Gals monogrammed on the back, feeding Clinton and Clancy Percy mango salsa on crackers. He guessed Clancy wasn’t opposed to his sissy-ass store after all, when freebies were being handed out. His gaze traveled down the aisles to shoppers examining packages and tossing items in their baskets. That part he liked. And hearing the sweet ring of the cash register bell. But when he sighted Jo Ellen Huggins heading in his direction, wearing a tight Dalmatian-spotted skirt, red ruffled top with sky-high sandals, and the look of a hungry predator, he started to sweat.
Where
the
hell
is
Lucy?
He turned to escape when the kitchen door swung open, and Margo shoved a basket of cut-up muffins in his arms.

“Lucy said to put these out next to the hot tea station for people to sample.”

“Lucy’s in there with you?” He didn’t hide the panic laced with relief from his voice.

“Yoo-hoo, Brogan!” Jo Ellen’s hand wrapped around his bicep in an amazingly strong grip. Sheee-it.

Margo snickered. “Work it, lover boy.” The door closed, cutting him off from salvation. Damn. So close.

“Uh, hey, Jo Ellen. How you been?”

“Why, Brogan Reese, you’ve been back in town for five months, and not once have you stopped by for a visit. Ooh, are those muffins?” Jo Ellen plucked a muffin piece from the basket in his hand and popped it in her mouth. “These are so-o-o good. Here, try one.”

“Nah, I—” Jo Ellen’s fingers shoved fresh banana nut muffin in his mouth as she smiled.

“You know, I’m hosting a Mary Kay party at my house next Thursday, and I would love to serve these. What else do you suggest?” she purred. Brogan had a strong feeling Jo Ellen didn’t want to hear about healthy food options. She had something more carnal on the menu…with him as the main course.

“Er, I need to put these up front. If you’ll excuse—”

“That sounds perfect. A Mary Kay party with lots of women,” Lucy piped up, appearing by his side.

“You should come, Lucy. We have so much fun, and I give the best makeovers.”

Lucy took the basket from Brogan’s hands. “Let me check my schedule. But I know Brogan’s free, and he will personally deliver a variety of homemade muffins, along with our chutney-smothered baked Brie, and organic crackers. You’ll love it.”

Brogan stiffened and fixed her with his steely gaze. She tossed him a cheeky smile. “Lucy, you’re mistaken. I’m not free. The Happy Hookers are scheduled for a meeting here next Thursday night.” His voice held a threatening edge directed smack-dab at her.

“That shouldn’t be a problem, because my party is during the day,” Jo Ellen said, clutching his arm in a painful grip.

Lucy tossed her ponytail. “Perfect. Let me write up your take-out order, and you can settle the bill before you leave.” Lucy nudged him with her shoulder. “Brogan, introduce Jo Ellen to your new organic frozen bananas dipped in chocolate. I bet she won’t be able to eat just one.”
Frozen bananas!
Lucy actually had the nerve to waggle her eyebrows, as if Jo Ellen needed any more encouragement.

“Lucy…”
He lunged for her, but she’d skipped from his reach and scooted down aisle five. Brogan could’ve sworn he heard her laughing. As Jo Ellen dragged him toward the frozen-dessert section, Brogan glanced over his shoulder at the blue-and-white tie-dyed dress molded to Lucy’s cute butt, swaying down the aisle. He took great pleasure in imagining his palm smacking that butt when he finally got her alone.

“Brogan, you’re not paying attention. M-m-m, these are divine.” Jo Ellen drew out her last words as she wrapped her painted red lips around a chocolate frozen banana. Brogan hardly refrained from shuddering. Oh, yeah, Lucy may not be able to sit for an entire week.

Before Jo Ellen could drag him over to the champagne and chocolate-covered strawberries station, Dottie Duncan blocked his path with her big hair, fake eyelashes, and ten bejeweled fingers planted on her full hips. “We need to talk,” she barked in her demanding voice. “Jo Ellen, I just overheard three gals over by those fancy cucumbers talking about facials. Git on over there and introduce them to Mary Kay.” Dottie motioned with her head toward the produce section.

Jo Ellen released the death grip on his arm, smoothing down her skirt and adjusting her top. “Thanks, Dottie. I’m on it.” She started to walk off and must’ve remembered she was dumping him for the possibility of selling more lipstick and blush…
not
that he was complaining. “Thanks, Brogan. See you next Thursday at ten. Don’t be late.” She blew him a kiss and headed to find girls in need of makeovers.