The Closer You Get (12 page)

“Yeah, you’re probably right. I’m not even gonna ask her name. You know how hard it is for me to look your conquests in the eyes after you’re done with them?”

Rye had no comment and thankfully, Cash didn’t pursue the subject. It would be best all around if no one knew about his botched evening with Cora.
 

T
HE
MONTHLY
MEETING
of the Women In Christian Service always occurred at three o’clock on the second Sunday of the month. Cora went because her mother insisted on it and like her father before her, she tended to cater to Noreen McKay’s wishes. This meeting would be different, however, because instead of going in her hand-me-down church clothes that she always wore to semi-formal events, she intended to wear one of her new dresses.

As she attempted to apply a modest amount of makeup, words from her childhood spun around in her head. Can’t make a silk purse out of a sow’s ear—Get Cora the cheaper shoes, she doesn’t need anything fancy—Don’t bother with Cora’s hair, work on Ginger’s, at least she has a chance at landing a man. Cora had taken the criticism without anger. It had been there since her earliest memories, and she’d accepted it as though it was true. But then Rye had touched her cheek. Rye had flirted with her. Rye had made out with her, and she knew that even if she wasn’t a great beauty, she at least had the ability to attract a man’s attention.

That wasn’t what today was about, though. Today was about proving that she wasn’t a sow’s ear. She was short, maybe scrawny. She didn’t shine as brightly as her sisters. But she was worth nice dresses and fine haircuts and makeup and attention. She was worth more than what her mother and sisters had allowed her.
 

The only cloud over her moment was her concern over Rye. She’d come to the conclusion that she’d wronged him. When things had gone further than she’d wanted, she’d said stop, and he’d stopped. If he were really a bad guy, he would have kept going. Instead, he had been polite and concerned for her. Until, of course, she’d insulted him a little too deeply.
 

She owed him an apology. Tomorrow.

Today, she had to deal with her mother.
 

She dressed in one of her pretty, new dresses—a baby blue, sleeveless number with a full skirt that hung to her knees. She wore the necklace Adam had bought her, as well as the matching shoes. In her whole life, Cora had never had more than three pairs of shoes at a time. Running shoes, work shoes, and sensible, black flats. Now her closet was full of shoes in all styles and colors. If she hadn’t had Adam with her when she went shopping, it wouldn’t have occurred to her to make sure she had shoes to match all the dresses.
 

The meeting was always held at her mother’s house in the glass room. The room wasn’t all glass. It was built off the back corner of the house so that two sides and a partial roof were all glass. The light was amazing. Mrs. Noreen McKay had filled the room with ferns, lilies, vines, and all kinds of other greenery. There were four round tables, each seating six, for serving company. Today, she had tea service set up at each of them: teapots filled with Darjeeling, trays of cucumber sandwiches, scones, ham rolls, and assorted fruit tarts.
 

Cora arrived on time, but most of the WICS were already there. They would fill all of the tables today, it looked like. Cora spotted her mother, a tall, elegant woman who wore her age extremely well. Not a hint of gray in her gilded hair and that was without dye. She wore a lovely, cream-colored suit and a demure smile. Her eyes locked on Cora’s, and one brow lifted into an arch.
 

Cora took a breath and held her head up. She approached her mother’s side.
 

“Well look at you,” Noreen said. “A new dress? And you cut your hair.”

Cora laughed nervously. Her sisters, Ella, Whinny, Dana, and Ginger, were headed toward them in tight formation. They were all at least six inches taller than Cora. They all had full, pouty lips, natural high coloring, and varying shades of golden hair. The hair was all Cora had managed to get hold of. Sometimes it seemed like she was made from spare parts. What she wouldn’t give for Ella’s wide, doe eyes. Or Whinny’s high cheekbones. Dana’s tiny waist. Ginger’s long, white neck.
 

“Look at our little sister!” Ella squealed. “She’s finally figured out how to dress for tea.”

“Only took her ten years,” Dana groused as she fidgeted with the cuticle of one nail.

“I think you look lovely, dear,” said Whinny, the oldest and the only one of the four that Cora even remotely liked.
 

“I heard,” said Ginger, in her high, grating voice, “from my friend Billi, that Cora, here, took a man home with her, Friday night.”

Noreen’s eyes pierced into her soul.
 

“I didn’t,” Cora stammered. “I mean, I did, but it wasn’t like that. We’re just friends. Not even. He works for me.” She decided to stop before she said something really stupid.
 

“Who?” Noreen asked.

Cora felt her shoulders hunch in and her head lower. She cursed herself for it, but she’d been caught off guard and wasn’t sure she could recover. “Zachariah Holcomb.”

“Never heard of him. Are his people from here?”

“No.”

“If you’re interested in him, I’ll have Kyle check up on him. Make sure he’s not the wrong sort, you know.”

Kyle was the local Sheriff. Noreen fancied she had him under her thumb, but Cora was fairly certain he only appeased her to keep the peace. “That’s not necessary, Mother. I’m not interested in him.”

Noreen shrugged. “Nevermind, then. If you’re ready for a husband, though, I’ll keep my ear to the ground. I hear Elspeth Tanner’s son is coming back to town. If you don’t mind dating a soldier.”

“I don’t mind. I mean, no, Mother, I’m not ready for a husband. I’m not looking. Mr. Holcomb and I only wanted to discuss work related things. We had coffee and then he went home. Nothing more, truly.”

Just then, Elspeth Tanner arrived and relieved Cora of the conversation altogether. The tea went about like usual. Cora had hoped that her appearance would make this event more comfortable. Instead, it only drew unwanted attention. She tried to remind herself that she’d done this for herself, not to please anyone else. But it was hard not to feel a little good about all the compliments, even though most of them were snide and backhanded.

After tea, she helped clean up. Her mother would hire someone for the majority of the work, but she preferred to hand-wash her China dishes herself. Or for Cora to do it.
 

“You’re different.”

Cora jumped. She’d been standing at the sink in the kitchen washing out a delicate tea cup. “Mom, you startled me.”

Her mother smiled. She settled onto a bar stool on the other side of the counter. “Darling, I’m your mother. I didn’t want to say so in front of your sisters, but you’re a terrible liar. Tell me about this young man.”

Cora set the cup down and turned off the water. She dried her hands and turned to face her mother. “You wouldn’t like him. He’s the wrong sort.”

“Is that so?”

Cora nodded. “And it doesn’t matter anyway. I’ve waited too long, and now I don’t know how to be around men. I was so frightened Friday night…” she choked before she could finish the sentence.

Her mother might have been an insufferable snob, but she was a wonderful confidante. The gossip gene had somehow passed her up. All of her friends had it. Four of her daughters had it. But she, herself, was a vault. And when she was in the right mood, as she was now, she could listen without judgment.

Cora recovered. “I invited him in. I told him there would be no funny business, but…when he asked if he could kiss me, I said yes.”

Noreen smiled. “A good kiss?”

“Very good. When it started going further, I just freaked out. He stopped just as soon as I said stop. But then I treated him like he’d attacked me or something. I asked him to leave. I told him I’d heard he treated women badly, and I didn’t feel safe being around him. It was all completely unreasonable.”

“What is it you’d heard about him?”

Cora slumped back against the counter. “Just that he sleeps with women and doesn’t call them. I’ve seen it myself. Not the sleeping with them part. I’ve seen him pick up women. He’s shameless. Of course, the women he chooses are, too. He doesn’t leave broken hearts in his path.”

“Would your heart be broken if he slept with you and didn’t call?”

“Maybe nothing so dramatic. But with him, I want more than that. Or else nothing. I couldn’t bear to be just another on a string of nameless, faceless women he’s used.”

“Is that your pride? Or is it that you have feelings for him?”

Cora reflected on the question for a moment. She smiled to herself as she recalled the games they’d played together Friday night. First pool. Then PS3.
 

“Ah. I see,” Noreen said. “Well…was he treating you the same as he does other women?”

“No,” she said, frowning again. “That’s the odd thing. If he wanted to sleep with me, he was going about it completely differently. For one thing, he’s taken a month getting to it. And then, he wasn’t aggressive at all. In fact, sometimes he seemed almost…hesitant.”

“Sounds like you possibly owe him an apology.”

Cora studied her mother. “Yeah. It does, doesn’t it.”

“Yes. And do let me have Kyle check up on him…”

Cora laughed. “Mom, I know enough. I hired him. We did plenty of checking up on him first.”

“And? Is he a good man?”

“He’s got some history you won’t like. But let’s not worry about it just now. After all, he’s probably done with me after the way I treated him.”

Cora finished washing the dishes while Noreen dried. Ginger and Dana interrupted, thus ending their conversation.

“We’re going for drinks at Darcy’s,” Ginger said. “You should come with us, Cora, now that you’re fit to be seen in public.”

Cora rolled her eyes. Ginger was such a bitch. Cora hated it when her sisters went to Darcy’s. The bar had always felt like hers. Her father used to take her, and then Sam, and then Adam…the place was in her blood. Which was why she accepted the invitation even though she didn’t care to spend time with her sisters. She hoped to ditch them for Lyssa, who was often there on Sunday evenings since she had the day off. And maybe, just maybe, Rye would be there, and she could apologize.

Rye got a call from Kent, which was why he was playing pool at Darcy’s when Cora and her sisters walked in. He didn’t initially assume the tall goddesses towering over his diminutive boss were related to her. But then he turned to Kent and said, “Who are they?”

And Kent said, “Cora’s sisters. I went to high school with Ginger; she is so hot.”

“If that’s the red-head, she’s mine.”

“No fucking way, you’ve got Cora.”

Rye snorted. “I’ll never have Cora. Come on, play pool and act like you didn’t notice them.”

He turned his back to the women while Kent cast him a skeptical glance and bent over the table, taking aim. “Why are we pretending not to notice them?”

“You never approach a woman like Ginger. She gets plenty of attention, trust me. Best way to lure her is ignore her.”

“That’s never worked for me before.”

Rye moved around the table to take his shot and discreetly glanced up. Sure enough, Ginger was leering at him as she sipped a drink from a straw. Rye shot her a wink and set his sexy grin to about ten percent power. No use wasting it all on a sure thing. He wondered if Cora would care or maybe even get jealous.

He took his shot and then another. On his third, he missed, and it was Kent’s turn. That was when he felt a hand slide over his shoulder and a hot woman press herself against his side. “Hey,” Ginger said, smelling of whiskey and perfume, “Zachariah, right?”

Rye nearly shivered. “Rye. No one calls me Zachariah.” Cora might if she wanted, and he wouldn’t argue. But he certainly wasn’t going to let this woman get away with it.
 

“Rye? Why not Zack?”

“Because when I started school, there were already three other Zack’s in my class. So we went with Rye.”

“Mmm. I like it. So, Rye, how about you buy me a drink and then show me how to play this game.”

Kent glared at him in disgust, so Rye gloated a little. He slid his arm around Ginger’s waist and pulled her tighter against him. “What are you drinking, beautiful?” he asked, as he led her to the bar.
 

“Whiskey sour.”
 

Cora was standing at the bar talking to her other sister. She’d clearly spotted him but was choosing to ignore him. So as Ginger ordered her second drink, Rye kept his hand on her hip and said to Cora, “I know you said your sisters were hot, boss, but damn.”

The other sister turned and, with a winning smile, extended her hand. “I’m Dana.”

“Rye.” Ginger was the clear winner of the three, but he certainly wouldn’t kick Dana out of bed. “Nice to meet you. We’re short one at the pool table if you wanna be partners with Kent.”

She leaned back to look past him, pursed her lips, and shrugged. “Sure. Sounds fun.”

Ginger wrapped her arms around Rye’s waist, and he enjoyed the view of her generous cleavage exposed in an extremely low-cut red dress. There would be no views like this with dowdy Cora. Rye decided to tear his eyes from the spectacle and see if Cora was jealous. He wondered if her face would be red, her eyes fiery.

It was the opposite. As soon as he saw Cora, he learned something about her. And the learning of it changed him forever. The dam around his conscience started to crack again, and guilt began gushing in. Her face was pale. She wasn’t even looking at him so much as through him. Her fingertips hovered at the neckline of the adorable blue dress she was wearing, her other hand rested on her stomach.
 

Rye had gone too far.

To think, he’d been pondering sleeping with Ginger and rubbing Cora’s face in it the next day. But Cora wasn’t a toy, and this wasn’t a game and Rye suddenly felt sick to his stomach.