Sultry with a Twist (18 page)

And then June found her own backbone and marched right past him up the stairs to finish caulking the bathroom sink. It would be a cold day in Hades before she shed another tear for Luke Gallagher.

“She called you a jellyfish?” Trey swung his disgusting, friggin’ half-rotted cast forward and then leaned on his cane to hobble into Jenkins’s kitchen. Luke wondered how much longer until that nasty thing came off. It was starting to smell, tainting the lemony scent of a freshly mopped floor with the reek of trapped sweat. “Was it the end of the day?” Trey asked. “’Cause she’s pretty cranky by then, especially if it’s hot.”

“Emotional coward. And no, it was lunchtime.” Pointing to a misaligned drawer, Luke added, “Have Pauly check the track on that one.” The day had come for the final walk-through on the Jenkins home, and Luke couldn’t stop thinking about June long enough to focus on his checklist. She had his mind so twisted he’d driven ten miles in the wrong direction that morning before he remembered where he was supposed to be. “Everything pass inspection?”

“Yep.” Patting himself down, Trey searched for the paperwork and came up empty-handed. “Karl probably has it.”

“Creepy Karl?” Luke tossed his clipboard onto the kitchen table, where it landed with a loud thud. “He’s probably smoked it by now.” Damn it, driving in circles, falling behind on the Hallover property, and now misplacing paperwork. His personal life was making him sloppy, something he couldn’t afford to let happen, not if he stood a chance of finally getting his family’s land back.

“You’re not gonna believe this,” Trey said, lowering himself into a wooden chair, “but Karl’s a halfway decent assistant. Keeps all the papers and receipts in this little plastic file box better organized than I ever did.”

“Huh, no shit?” Maybe they’d found a use for him after all.

As if they’d called for him, Karl waddled in with the inspector’s report folded neatly in his hand. “Hey, boss man. Where’s
mamacita
?” With one hairy hand, he stroked his round, even hairier belly and thrust his pelvis into the empty air. “She done blown my mind, and I ain’t wantin’ it back!”

“You jackass.” Luke snatched the report and pointed it at the back door. “Jenkins’ll be here in a minute. Put a shirt on, and get back outside to make sure there’s no trash on the lawn. I want this property cleaner than a hound’s tooth.” Decent assistant or not, that man was a canker sore.

“Okaly-dokaly, boss man.” Smiling like he’d just finished a cold beer, Karl strode out the door.

Trey chuckled from his chair and shoved a ballpoint pen down the top of his cast. “This thing’s itchy as hell,” he said, scrubbing at his skin.

“Jesus, remind me not to borrow that pen.”

Ignoring him, Trey kept scratching and asked, “So, what’d you do to piss off
Jooonbug
?”

“You automatically assume I did something wrong.” But before Luke objected any further, he waved a dismissive hand and owned up to his mistake. “Yeah, okay. I screwed up. We had a fight, and when I went to apologize, I kissed her, and things went a little too far.”

“How too far?”

“None of your business.” Deciding to fix the faulty drawer himself, Luke pulled it out and lifted it from the track. “Anyway, I told her it couldn’t happen again, and she accused me of being emotionally spineless. Said I’d let her down, thrown her under the bus.”

“Ouch.” Abandoning the pen, Trey reached for a toilet auger. “You think she’s right?”

“I swear to God, if you put that thing down your cast…” Luke cocked his head to the side. “What do you mean? Of course she’s not right. You think I’m a pansy or somethin’?”

Holding his palm forward like a peace officer, Trey shook his head and—thank God—threw the auger back in his toolbox. “I didn’t say that. But think about it. How long have I known you?” Trey thought for a moment. “Nine years? And in all that time, you’ve never had a steady girl, unless you count the ever-faithful Frau Gallagher.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay, fine. And you don’t date. I mean, have you ever slept with the same woman twice?”

Annoyed, Luke shrugged a shoulder and wished he’d never told Trey about the argument in the first place. He could see where this was going. Feeling along the metal drawer track, he tried to identify the problem, but couldn’t concentrate longer than two seconds before his mind wandered back to June, particularly to the way she’d looked when he’d made her come. His heart raced just thinking about her flushed cheeks and how she’d moaned his name.

“I’ll take that as a no.” Pausing a moment to rifle through his toolbox, Trey sighed and then added, “Don’t you think that’s weird? Maybe June has a point.” His face lit up when he found a heavy, metal tape measure, and as Trey extended the tip two feet into the foul plaster depths, Luke thought about what he’d said.

Avoiding relationships had saved him a lot of time, which he’d used to build a business and accumulate enough capital to buy the Gallagher land. And by refusing to date local women, he’d saved himself all the awkward headaches that came with a messy breakup. That didn’t make him a coward, just practical.

“Either way,” Trey said, appearing satisfied and retracting the tape, “you need to figure out what you want. Fish or cut bait, buddy. Do you love her?”

The word no was on the tip of Luke’s tongue, but it slid backward and lodged inside his throat.

“I’ve seen the way you look at each other,” Trey said with a smug grin. “And didn’t you drive to Shooters at closing time a few nights ago to make sure—”

“We grew up together.” Luke tightened a screw to adjust the left track. “I care about her.”

“I was in love once.” Trey leaned back and heaved a sigh. “Mindy Roberts. Couldn’t stop thinking about her for five minutes. Damn near drove me insane. But that’s not how I knew it was love—just thinking about a woman could mean anything.”

“How’d you know?”

“She was the only girl I’d ever pictured having a family with. I could almost see our kids running around in the backyard. And the sex wasn’t just sex; it was more. Like I lost part of myself every time. It’s hard to explain. And scary as the devil on steroids.”

Sliding the drawer back in place and testing it out, Luke wondered why he’d never heard about Mindy Roberts before. Probably for the same reason he’d never mentioned June to Trey. Some things were private. Or too painful to mention aloud. “So what happened?” he asked.

“She met someone else while I was in basic.” Then in a softer voice, “Guess she didn’t feel the same about me.”

Neither of them said a word, choosing instead to let the distant hum of the air conditioner and the whoosh of forced air through the vents fill the silence. After a long minute, Trey recovered his earlier cheer and asked, “So, how many kids have you imagined with
Jooonbug
?”

Three—all boys who looked exactly like him—just like she’d predicted in her high school letter, but Trey didn’t need to know that. “Who said I pictured a family with her?”

Hauling himself out of the chair, Trey gave a dry laugh. “Well, unlike me and Mindy, I can tell June’s just as crazy about you. As crazy as you pretend not to be.”

“I don’t know.” Luke tossed his screwdriver into the toolbox, satisfied the drawer was level. At least one thing went right that morning. “What would she see in someone like me?”

“Buddy, who gives a shit? If you win the lottery, you don’t waste your time asking why. You take your winnings and enjoy the rest of your life.” Then he hobbled close enough to infect Luke’s space with the wafting scents of sour body oil and plaster. Clapping one hand against Luke’s shoulder, Trey warned, “If you don’t cash this lottery ticket, someone else will. And you’ll kick your own sorry ass every day for the rest of your life if you lose her. You and I both know it. So don’t lose her.”

After handing the keys over to a very grateful, teary-eyed Will Jenkins, Luke dismissed the crew and told them to meet up at the Hopkins house in two days, which had burned in an electrical fire a month earlier. There was never a shortage of repairs to be done for good people who couldn’t afford to pay. There was, however, a shortage of time and money to accommodate them all. And speaking of time, Luke couldn’t waste any more of it shooting the breeze with Trey if he wanted to meet his goal of listing the Hallover property by the end of the week. It was time to buckle down and stop letting June distract him.

Rolling down the window in his truck, Luke let the clean morning breeze toss his hair and clear his mind as he barreled down the highway into the next county. For the first time, he looked forward to the thirty-minute drive, which would give him a chance to think about Trey’s advice, to decide once and for all what he wanted—to fish or cut bait. Slipping on a pair of sunglasses, Luke asked the most basic question: what did he want? That was easy. He couldn’t deny he wanted June; there was no point lying to himself. But that didn’t mean he could have her—not forever, anyway. June’s time in Sultry Springs was growing shorter, and in the end, she’d return to her bar and to her dirty-minded business partner. And then what? A long-distance relationship? It probably wouldn’t last; they never did. Then they’d be back at square one, estranged, their friendship lost. Besides, despite what Trey’d said, Luke just couldn’t believe June’s feelings went any deeper than an old childhood crush. Which raised the next, more important question: did he love her?

That wasn’t as easily answered. He knew June had some sort of power over him, a way of making him feel elation and despair at the same time. He also knew instinctively that to be inside her—to feel her silken warmth, surrounded by her porcelain skin, her arms and legs wrapped around him—would be to lose himself completely to her. That had been the real reason he’d resisted making love to June two days ago, not because he didn’t have a condom. Luke had never been without one in the last five years. But was that the power of love, or simply a mixture of attachment and infatuation? He didn’t know. Too bad there wasn’t a blood test for this kind of thing.

Half an hour later, Luke’s mind was still more cluttered than a junkyard, but he’d reached a decision. It was time to let June go. Nothing good could come of a relationship with her—he’d either ruin things, or she’d leave. He’d sit her down right away and calmly explain they’d never be more than friends. Maybe he’d hurt her feelings, but it would spare her in the long run.

When Luke pulled into the Hallover driveway, his breath caught, and his hands tightened around the steering wheel. The very picture of domesticity, June knelt in the front flower bed, tending a variety of bright gold blossoms with her bare hands. Though her face was concealed by the brim of her straw hat, Luke knew she wore a gentle smile. He could tell from the way her fingers swept and caressed the soil. She’d already filled each window box until they overflowed with some kind of delicate purple flower he’d seen before, but couldn’t identify. Pansies, maybe. He never would’ve thought to mix yellow and purple blooms, but the color combination worked. The house finally looked like a real home. Luke could almost hear the joyful shrieks of children playing in the backyard, the sons he and June would never have. He parked the truck, swallowed the lump in his throat, and tried to steel himself for what lay ahead.

“Hey,” he said, jogging to the front door. June glanced up and wiped a hand across her brow, leaving a streak of dirt behind, and Luke had to stop himself from brushing his thumb over her forehead to clean it. Instead, he opened the door and nodded inside. “How ’bout you take a break, so we can talk?”

She turned her face to the earth. “Just a minute. I want to finish this last row.” Her voice was low and soft, like she knew what was coming. Luke’s heart sank into his stomach.

Stepping into the foyer, he reminded himself that he was not in love.

***

Taking her sweet time, June gathered her trowel and scooped a divot in the ground for the next group of mums. She was in no hurry to hear whatever Luke had to say. There were two kinds of
let’s talk
, and she doubted he was eager to share some unexpected good news. The inflection in his voice, the way he wouldn’t meet her gaze, the tingles along the backs of her thighs told June this was a
letting
you
down
gently
kind of talk. A pulling away kind of talk. Already, hot tears pressed against her eyelids. She tried to blink them away, but the bright yellow blooms in her palm went blurry and mingled with the deep brown soil. Within seconds, she couldn’t even see the new spot she’d dug. Hadn’t she vowed a couple days ago not to shed another tear for Luke? So much for that.

She tugged her shirt up to blot her eyes, and everything came back into focus. There were two holes at the tip of her trowel blade, the one she’d dug, and another smaller opening in the ground—something she should’ve noticed before. The hairs on the back of June’s neck stood on end as a sudden movement caught her eye. She instinctively jerked her hand back, but the snake was much faster. Before June had time to gasp, a pair of tiny, white fangs plunged into her forearm and clamped firmly in place beneath a pair of black, expressionless eyes. She unleashed a raw, savage scream and shook her arm wildly, but it wouldn’t release her. The tiny jaws compressed her flesh, biting again and again and again. Then fire. She was on fire, skin and muscle burning her up from the inside out, caustic acid melting her veins. Pounding, rushing blood roared inside June’s ears as she flailed and smacked her fist against the dirt. And then, as abruptly as the snake had struck, its fangs retracted and it disappeared into the hole in a brilliant flash of colors.

Clenching her eyes shut, June released a sob and rocked forward, clutching her arm to her chest. The bite throbbed like a thunderbolt with each of her rapid heartbeats. Then someone was there, tugging at her wrist and tilting her face up.

“…hear me?” Luke pulled her arm free, revealing two small currents of blood that streamed from the wound. “Shit!” he said. “Did you see what bit you?”

Shock tied her tongue for a moment, and then June could only recite the warning rhyme Grammy had taught her years ago: “Red on yellow, kill a fellow.”

“God damn!” With one fluid motion, Luke reached behind his head and tugged off his T-shirt. He ripped it into uneven strips and began wrapping her arm as if she’d sprained it. “Try to calm down,” he said. “Your pulse is racing. It’s spreading the venom faster.”