The Bachelor and the Beauty Queen (9 page)

“You're in luck,” she said, glancing to her left, where Stephen fell into step with her. “Today is Food Truck Tuesday. There's a variety of places to grab something to eat.”

“Sounds good to me. I wanted to talk more about this weekend.”

Heart fluttering, Lexi stopped in her heels. “Seriously?”

“I need to find out for myself if this is something I want Philly involved in,” said Stephen, slowing down for Lexi to catch up with him.

“Did you talk this over with Nate? Should we go and get him?”

Stephen half turned his face toward her. “Nate does not have the final say in what happens with this beauty pageant. We'll drive down Friday afternoon.”

“We?” Lexi gulped. She and Stephen? Alone? Her palms began to sweat. She didn't realize she'd stopped walking again until Stephen turned around and grabbed her hand.

“We,” he repeated. “I, rather we, will need you to guide us, and this will give me a chance to get to know you better.”

Hand on her hip, Lexi cocked her head to the side and studied him. “What is there to know?”

“Oh, darling,” Stephen said, his heart-stopping, devilish grin sending a shiver down her spine, “I want to learn what's beyond the beauty queen.”

Chapter 7

T
he intention he'd had when leaving the new shop with Lexi was to take her someplace nice and quiet. Despite the occasional fly and gnat, he wouldn't change a thing, though.

During their lunch in the park, Stephen ate and watched Lexi. They shared a meal seated across from each other on a green metal picnic table. The paper wrappers their lunch came in became background noise between them as they dined on food from Southern Spin, a food truck doing exactly what the title promised. Lexi swore by the soul-food egg rolls and macaroni-grilled-cheese sandwich, so he took her up on her suggestion and added an order of pork nachos.

“You must work out a lot,” Stephen said after Lexi polished off the second half of her collard green–filled egg roll.

“Are you saying something about my eating habits?”

Stephen coasted past the answer by chuckling. Better to laugh than to point out the half pizza she'd polished off last night or the three bowls of shrimp and grits the day before. Yet the woman still managed to have the most alluring hourglass figure he'd ever seen.

Lexi let him off the hook with a playful eye roll along with an explanation. “Besides work, I don't have anything else to do.” She shrugged her shoulders.

“You don't date?”

She rested her elbows on the holes of the table and dropped her shoulders. Despite her posture, she still reminded him of a beauty queen. “Southwood is one of those small towns, you know?”

“I do.” He nodded his head, then wiped his mouth with a napkin. “I grew up in Villa San Juan.”

“Florida?” Lexi perked upright.

“I usually have to clarify not the one in Puerto Rico,” Stephen chuckled. “You've heard of it?”

“You don't have to explain anything to me.” Eagerly nodding, Lexi wiped the corners of her mouth with her napkin. “My friends and I passed up spring break at the usual Panama City Beach and headed over to Villa San Juan Beach. So you're from there? Why did I assume you were from Atlanta?”

“My business is there.” With his mind preoccupied with Lexi lounging around on his hometown beach, Stephen absentmindedly reached across the table with his thumb and wiped away a faint smear of her red lipstick. Her eyelashes fluttered against her high cheekbones at the touch. “It
was
in Atlanta,” he corrected himself and pulled his hand away.

“You sound sad.”

Stephen cleared his throat. His eyes gazed across the park at the dozens of food trucks. The lines of customers were dwindling. Everyone apparently was going on about their day. “What makes me sad is I spent a lot of time in Atlanta instead of here.” He turned his eyes to face Lexi. Her eyes stayed focused on his words.

“Because you dislike small towns?”

“I don't dislike small towns, exactly,” he tried to explain. “I'm not a fan of everyone in my business and blind fix-ups like I'd get back at home in Villa San Juan.”

A long S-shaped curl slid up and down on the front of her polka-dot blouse as she nodded. “I understand. Everyone around town knows your secrets.”

It was on the tip of his tongue to ask her about her secrets. Why didn't her mother stop last night and speak to her? Why did Lexi freeze up and tear up?

“Where did you live in Atlanta?”

“Berkeley Lake.”

The corners of Lexi's lipstick-free lips turned down. “Why does that not surprise me?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Don't knock my hood.”

“Berkeley Lake is far from a hood.” Lexi laughed. He liked her laugh, enjoyed the way the corners of her eyes crinkled. “The last time I checked, your
hood
—” she used air quotes “—was listed as the most affluent neighborhood in the state of Georgia.”

“Aw, don't make me sound
bougie
.”

“Well—” Lexi shrugged “—if the mansion fits.”

Stephen hollered out a laugh, something he hadn't done in a while. An elderly couple walking by stopped and turned. The woman glanced at Stephen's dining partner and shook her head disapprovingly before reaching for a phone from her pocketbook. If he didn't know any better, he'd swear she took a picture of the two of them. Lexi, still laughing, glanced over her shoulder and spotted the woman and offered a friendly wave. Stephen noticed the way the woman dropped her phone back in her purse and scurried off.

“What is the deal with you and your mother?”

The space between them quickly became quiet. The construction team across the playground stopped drilling. Even the birds stopped chirping. A proverbial needle on the record scratched their conversation to a halt.

Lexi took a long sip of her tea before deciding on an answer. When she did, her tone was low but diplomatic. “You said you wanted to talk about the pageant this weekend.”

Stephen shrugged his shoulders. “Are we not allowed to discuss both?”

“What does it matter to you?” Lexi folded her arms across her chest.

“I thought we were getting to know each other,” said Stephen, “being neighborly, as you said. What happened to that idea?”

A few minutes blew by, enough time to allow Lexi to process how to answer him. He interjected right before she opened her mouth to explain, “And don't give me one of those rehearsed answers.”

“What?” Lexi choked out. “I resent that.”

“All right, I'm going to let you off the hook on your mother for now. Maybe this weekend we can talk some more about what's going on?”

“Why my mother?” Lexi shook her head from side to side. “How is your relationship with your mother?” she asked, folding her arms across her breasts.

“A bit strained right now,” Stephen confessed. “Only because she blames me and Nate for not teaching the girls how to speak Spanish.”

A few seconds ticked away before Lexi dropped her arms, her lips pinched into a threatening smile. “What?”

“Imagine how ashamed she was of
us
when we brought them back home over spring break.”

“Your brother didn't speak in Spanish to them?”

Stephen chose his words carefully, not wanting to shed a negative light on the girls' maternal grandparents. “I think my brother had good intentions by not wanting to exclude Enzo and Jeanette.”

“I remember Mr. and Mrs. Gravel,” said Lexi. “She sang at a wedding I did not too long ago. This explains Philly's talent.”

Stephen leaned forward, ignoring the awkward way the cold metal of the picnic table holes rubbed against his elbows. “Weddings and pageant gowns. Why both?”

“Don't forget prom gowns.” As if asked this question before, Lexi nodded her pretty head and smiled, not her typical pageant smile, but a genuine one, one that reached her eyes. “I love dresses, always have. My Grandma Bea introduced me to a famous GRITS.”

“What?”

“Girls Raised in the South.” Lexi sighed, slightly annoyed with his interruption. “Ann Lowe.”

“Who?” Stephen felt his lips press together when the name did not ring a bell.

“She was only one of the first noted African-American designers.” Lexi gasped out of irritation. “She designed for a lot of actresses. Olivia de Havilland's dress when she won an Oscar for...”

“To Each His Own,”
Stephen finished for her. When her brows rose, he explained, “I used to spend Saturdays watching old movies with my mother.”

“So you want to sit here and act like you didn't enjoy the movies?”

“Nah.” Stephen sat back. “I can't pretend that this didn't help me with my career.”

“Do you still watch them?”

He nodded. “Every once in a while, I can commandeer the television in the living room and get one of the girls to watch with me.”

“Saturday nights, this park converts into a sort of drive-in,” said Lexi, waving her hand like a wand toward the open area between the swing set. A group of non-school-age children played in the sandlot while their mothers sat on the benches surrounding the square. “You may enjoy it.”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Stephen teased.

“I don't date parents.” Did she want to tack on an
anymore
to the end of her statement?

“I still come even if I've seen the movie a dozen times,” Lexi went on. “I love the glamorous way everyone dressed back then. I can't remember a time in my life when I didn't want to create dresses. My mama would drag me across the state to find the perfect pageant gown because there wasn't a shop in Southwood to cater to her needs, which is partly why I came home.”

“Makes sense.”

“What's your favorite part of watching films?” Lexi asked.

“For me, I love the scenery. I can see a broken-down home and see its potential to be something I've seen in a classic movie.”

“Uh-oh.” Lexi sat up straight again.

“What?”

“It just sounds like we have a lot more in common than you'd like.”

With a deep exhale, Stephen sat back, accepting that her news was not such a bad thing.

* * *

The sun had settled over Sunshine Boulevard by the time Lexi returned to Grits and Glam Gowns. All of the diagonal parking spaces were filled with parents ready for the evening's workshop. A twinge of guilt hit her for staying away from the shop for so long, as well as keeping Stephen away from his afternoon duties. Truth be told, time flew by as they got to know each other. She wondered what would have happened if she had met him years ago on the beaches of Villa San Juan or even somewhere on Peach Tree Boulevard.

“Miss Lexi!”

A crowd of girls between the ages of five and thirteen surrounded Lexi the moment she set foot in the door, with Philly in the center, leading the chant. For the next hour Lexi practiced walks, stances and making eye contact with the judges—the judges being Andrew, Chantal and Kimber. That last appointment came after Lexi had picked up on the teenager's body language—eye rolls, folded arms and heavy sighs at being forced to stay with her younger sister. To stabilize the mood, Lexi had asked for Kimber's help. The hour passed quickly, then Lexi walked the Reyes girls next door. For the second time in the day, a flock of butterflies flittered in the pit of Lexi's stomach at the sight of Stephen's bare chest. He and his brother worked side by side, setting up partitions in what used to be the dining area. In less than forty-eight hours, they'd flipped the bakery into something resembling an office.

“Hey, are you guys done already?” asked Nate with a bright smile “I was about to come over and get you. I already put in the order for the pizza.” The girls' protesting groans echoing around the bare walls gave Nate reason to pause. “Did you have fun?”

“Yes,” the girls chorused.

Nate's green eyes glanced between both girls and then Lexi. “I'm not sure how you got the two of them to agree and have fun at the same time, but thank you.”

“No need to thank me.” Lexi waved off the compliment.

“Yes, don't thank her,” Stephen said with light humor rolling off his handsome smile. “Or you'll be one-upping her forever.”

Nate rubbed his large hand over his square jaw. “I don't see the problem there.”

Stephen pushed his brother's back, jutting him forward. “But I do.”

Kimber and Philly giggled. Lexi recalled enjoying watching her mom and aunt argue over silly things. Stephen's brotherly push appeared to be a bit harsher. Perhaps that's how boys played with each other. What did Lexi know? She only had a sister, and with their age difference, they had nothing to argue about. But why would Stephen push Nate, especially over her? He didn't even like her—unless she was wearing him down.

There was no denying the attraction between them at this point, though. Lexi planned on allowing Stephen the opportunity to dispel his initial impression of her. She hadn't planned on finding him so attractive in the meantime. How was a woman supposed to resist a man like him? She swore a dimple appeared beneath his beard every time he laughed. And what a sexy laugh it was.

“The place looks good, guys,” Lexi said, glancing around. Was the heat on inside?

“This isn't too weird for you?” asked Nate.

The words Lexi thought she wanted to say were lost. Weird, because she stood here in this new office area and lusted after a man who just a few days ago had vowed to ruin her. “Weird how?”

“I don't know.” Nate shrugged. “I was under the impression you wanted to expand.”

“This isn't the only place in town,” Lexi said with a practiced smile. “I may have lost out on this space but I at least gained some interesting neighbors.” She rubbed the cap of Philly's curly head. Stephen moved closer to her, elbowing his brother out of the way.

“Let me walk you to your car.”

“We'll walk over and pick up the pizza,” said Nate after a pause of awkwardness. The girls groaned again. “Let me clean this stuff up first.”

The shortness in Stephen's tone sent a pang to the center of Lexi's chest. So he still held animosity toward her when it came to his nieces. She had every right to plant her heels into the pulled-up floor and stand her ground, but when his hands brushed against her lower back, something in the back of her knees went weak.

Like last night, a warm breeze blew between them. Stephen walked her to her car, but then leaned against the driver's side door. Unsure of where to stand or what to say, Lexi rested her hip by the hood and faced him. “Clearly you have something to say.”

“I do.” Stephen cleared his throat. “I wanted to say that I may have been wrong.”

Against her better judgment, her heart fluttered against her chest. What did she care? Lexi did not date parents or fall for them. So what if his proverbial bedroom eyes stared down into her soul when they spoke? “Really?”

“Yes. I was wrong about not wanting to allow Philly into pageants. I've never seen her happier.”