Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Mary London
“If you look at your watch one more time like you can’t wait to ditch me today, I’m going to get a complex, Mary London!” Maggie exclaims, hands flying to her hips.
I know she’s teasing me, but I put my arm down just the same. She’s right. I’ve been checking out the time just as much as I’ve been getting lost in my head, replaying everything that happened last night. My face heats just thinkin’ about thinkin’ about it!
“You got big plans after work?” Maggie asks, clearly not ready to let me off the hook.
Thing is, I trust Maggie implicitly with my business, which has been my baby since I graduated college.
But she’s also from Heaven, a small town that lives up to its gossiping reputation.
I haven’t even officially announced I’m opening a bar here in the Square.
If I were to share my every thought with her, word would get out I’m sweet on the contractor I hired and I’d never hear the end of it.
Things would get twisted right quick. Before you know it, people’d be sayin’ I’m sleeping with him to get a good deal on the build-out.
My reputation’d be tarnished and so would Rhett’s.
Sadly, because the world is still backwards, my reputation would take far greater of a hit than Rhett’s just because of my female chromosomes.
So, I take the safe road.
“I’m just antsy to dig into the things I need to order for the bar,” I whisper. It’s not entirely a lie. I can’t wait to order things like light fixtures and artwork and barstools, but that’s not ’til later in the process. The whole truth is that I’m excited to see Rhett again tonight.
Maggie looks over her shoulder to the two customers at the front of the boutique and leans in closer. “You ever thought about cowhide barstools?”
I grin, loving that she’s thinking about the bar too.
It’s nice to have a partner, even if her official capacity is just here at Golden Halo.
“I actually did think about that, but they don’t hold up to spills and heavy wear.
But!” I clap my hands and try to contain the squeal.
“I found a guy who makes wingback chair in dark-brown-and-white cowhide that I plan to put in the front corner. Sort of a statement piece, you know?”
Maggie’s nodding along enthusiastically. “Oh my God, yes!”
Another customer enters the boutique, looking around helplessly.
Maggie growls, pushing off the counter to go help her.
I laugh under my breath, then head over to help the other two ladies so we can close up on time.
I don’t plan on being late to the bar with dinner. Not when I have two men waiting for me.
Right on time, I close up, lock the door, and head over to Mama’s, an all-American restaurant just off the Square. Mama B serves every dish you can imagine, each with ample grease and salt and a phone number for our local cardiologist.
I order a French dip with fries, chicken fried steak, hush puppies, and fried green tomatoes.
Rylan’s Southern cuisine education is about to begin.
Thinking about how much food I ate last night, I go for moderation today and order a salad with grilled chicken, dressing on the side.
Sadly, I can’t eat like I’m a teenager still.
Which reminds me my birthday is coming up.
As I wait for the food, I wonder when an adult transitions from being excited about each birthday to dreading it.
“Here you go, honey!” Mama B hollers, voice always sounding like she’s got a megaphone in front of her mouth. Her ruddy cheeks scrunch into a smile that makes her eyes disappear. “You gorgeous little thing, I hope you’re planning on sharing!”
I take the heavy bag from her and give her a one-armed hug. I’ve known this woman since I was a kid. She always drops off meals for people in the community who go through a death in the family, not for advertising, but because it’s the right thing to do. She’s good people.
“I’m sharin’, don’t worry!” I don’t add who I’m sharing with, though I know that’s what she was hoping I’d do. She’s good people, but she loves to gossip just like everybody else in Heaven.
I make my way to the bar, stopping a few times to say hello and inquire about people’s families as we pass.
This is my favorite part about this town.
The way I know everyone and everyone knows me.
I like walking down the street and talking to my neighbors.
Living anonymously in the city sounds like hell.
I slip inside the bar, setting the bag of food down and locking the door.
I hear Rhett’s low voice rumbling in the kitchen area in back.
Rylan’s voice, higher and louder, cuts through his dad’s words.
I make my way over, hoping I’m not intruding.
Rhett’s leaning on the counter by the huge grill, his other hand on his hip.
He looks all kinds of frustrated. Rylan’s still talking, his hands flying.
Rhett looks pointedly over Rylan’s shoulder and greets me. “Mary London’s here.”
Rylan spins, his eyes wide. “Thank God you’re here.”
I look between them with confusion. “What’s going on?”
“Maybe you can talk some sense into Dad.” Rylan puts his hands on my shoulders, intense gaze pleading with me for something. “Three guys at school have been giving me a hard time about being sixteen and not having a car. They said every teen has one, even if it’s a shit car.”
“Language, Rylan,” Rhett snaps.
“Sorry, Dad.” Rylan continues, words tripping over themselves to get out of his mouth. “Today they put up a picture of me on everyone’s locker.”
Alarm makes my stomach clench. This sounds like it’s entered bullying territory, and I won’t stand for it.
“What picture?”
“Well, it was doctored, but it’s my head on a bike, with the words vroom-vroom trailing behind the bike.” Rylan finishes almost on a yelp, like this is the worst thing to ever happen to a teenager.
“It’s just kid stuff, Ry. They’re teasing you.” Rhett sounds exasperated.
Rylan releases my shoulders and whips around to face his dad. “It’s not! Don’t you remember what it’s like to be in high school and not fit in? You said we came to Heaven to live a better life, but so far, it’s not turning out that way. Sadie saw those flyers, man.”
Ah. We’re getting to the heart of the matter. The girl he’s sweet on saw the flyers and now he’s embarrassed. And I’m pissed for him. That’s no way to treat the new kid in town. Heaven is better than that.
“What are their names?” I ask, no nonsense.
Rylan hesitates. Rhett holds up his hand. “Mary London. It’s okay.”
“No,” I snap back. “Heaven should do better, and I’m gonna see that we do.”
“You’re going to talk to them?” Rylan asks, face going pale. “That’ll just make it worse.”
“Oh, I ain’t goin’ to talk to them boys, honey. I got alternative ways of gettin’ things done.” I grin and watch both their eyes widen. “I’m fixin’ to talk to their mamas.”
Rylan’s face splits into an evil grin. He opens his mouth, but gets cut off by a sharp round of knocking on the front door. Our heads all swivel in that direction.
“Oh! I locked the door!” I exclaim, about to rush out and unlock it.
Rhett holds up his hand. “I got it. Probably the toilets for the bathrooms that are late.” He walks out and Rylan stares at me.
“You think talking to their mamas will make it better, not worse?”
Now it’s my turn to put my hands on his shoulders. “First of all, I won’t be naming names, so don’t freak out, hon. I’m simply going to put the guilt of Jesus in their hearts. Mark my words, these boys’ll be throwing you a welcoming party before the end of the week. Leave it to me, honey.”
Rhett walks back into the kitchen with the food from Mama’s.
Rylan digs in, leaning against the counter since we don’t have chairs yet.
With some encouragement, he tries the hush puppies and ends up loving them.
He won’t touch the tomatoes, but Rhett seems to love them.
Conversation flows easy as we all eat. Rylan’s phone pings when Rhett and I are still halfway through our meals.
“Can I go, Dad? Sadie and her friend Jeremy invited me out tonight.”
Rhett wipes his hands on a napkin. “Where you going and when will you be home?”
“A place called Jasper Lake. Jeremy said there’s a spot good for night fishing.
And I don’t know when I’ll be home because I don’t have a car.
I’ll have to rely on Jeremy to bring me home.
” Rylan’s thumbs are flying over the phone screen while he talks, but he pauses to give the stink eye to his dad.
I watch Rhett take a deep breath before answering.
“Text me later when you think that might be. Better be before midnight though.”
“Okay,” Rylan grumbles, turning to leave.
“Hey, Ry,” Rhett says quickly before Rylan exits the kitchen. He points in my direction.
Rylan shoves his phone back in his pocket and comes over to hug me. “Thanks for dinner, Mary London. And for the other thing.”
I pat his back and give him a warm smile. I have zero experience with teen boys, but I like this one. He’s a good kid. “You bet, hon.”
Silence descends in the kitchen after we hear the front door open and close. Rhett takes a huge bite of his French dip and then wipes his mouth. I pick through the salad to find the last of the chicken.
“You really going to talk to their mamas?” he finally asks.
I scoff. “Do I like dresses and makeup?”
Rhett’s serious face softens. His eyes drop from my face to take in the frilly blue dress that leaves my shoulder bare and ends a few inches above my knees. I feel every sweep of that gaze like an actual caress. He shifts closer and suddenly I can barely breathe.
“I’m starting to think there’s nothing you can’t do, Mary London,” he says nice and low and slow. His gaze finally comes back to mine.
I shift on my feet just to shake away the buzz of awareness that hits in all the right places on my body. I also wince because yesterday’s blisters have come home to roost. Rhett tilts his head in confusion, then shakes it when he realizes my heels are hurting my feet again.
His hands land on my hips all of a sudden and I’m airborne, feet dangling by his shins. My ass hits the small counter and now I’m eye level with him, seated and off my feet. My hands have somehow found their way to his shoulders, muscles thick and strong under my fingers.
“And I’m starting to think you like manhandling me, ’Lanta.” I watch with avid fascination as his face takes on a ruddier hue. There’s something infinitely fun about flirting with him. With his dark good looks he must get flirted with all the time, and yet he acts so shy about it when I do it.
“I’m starting to think you don’t own shoes that don’t hurt your feet, June bug.”
I bark out a laugh, hands still on his shoulders, my knees spreading slightly as he rests the weight of his hips against me. “June bug?”
“Mhm. Sweet, Southern, and just a bit spicy. It suits you.”
My thighs give up, knees springing so wide he’s fully between them now.
My breathing kicks up a notch, especially when his hands, still on my hips, grip me tighter, like he’s just now realizing what he’s holding.
He’s so close now I can see the ring of dark navy blue around his stormy eyes.
The stubble on his chin that’s a couple days old.
The start of pale lines fanning out from the corners of his eyes.
One of his hands leaves my hip to cup my face. My breath stills, lungs frozen, waiting to see what he does.
“You got…something here,” he murmurs, thumb sweeping across the corner of my top lip. His eyes have gone hot, his jaw clenched. “Can’t have construction dust marring your beautiful face.”
My heart trips over itself. Rhett just called me beautiful.
I’ve been told that before by men and it’s meant very little.
But I’ve gotten to know Rhett these last couple of weeks and I know any compliment he gives has been ripped out of his chest and drug out into the air.
He’s not one for frilly words just to bridge the silence. His compliments have weight.
His head dips further and I hope he can’t hear the fast thump of my heart or the way my brain is screaming for him to kiss me. He inches closer, neither of us breathing. So close. Just a millimeter more and his lips will be on mine. My fingers cramp, clutching his shirt hard in my fists.
“Mary London? You here?”
I gasp, eyes shooting wide. Rhett backs away immediately, leaving me feeling cold and exposed up here on the counter. He spins around and shoots across the kitchen, his hand gripping the back of his neck and the other on his hip. I swallow hard and try to remember where I am.
“Marlo?” comes the call again.
It’s my brother. Shit.
I hop down from the counter silently, frantic hands patting my hair, my dress, my lips that feel like they got robbed of something just now.
“Hey, Silas! We’re back here in the kitchen!” I finally call out. My voice sounds high-pitched to my ears, but it’s the best I can do under the circumstances.
By the time Silas pokes his head in, Rhett is back to finishing his French dip and I’m cleaning up the containers of food that Rylan devoured, looking up innocently at my brother.
“Hey, Silas. Whatcha doing here?”
He eyes Rhett with what I know is his polite expression he reserves for customers he doesn’t know. Then he nods hello and refocuses on me. “I wanted to see if you’d show me your plans for the bar.”
I give him a warm smile, firmly pushing that…moment…to the far recesses of my brain. “Ah, what a sweet brother you are.”
Silas preens. “You know it.”
I put down the bag of trash and slip my arm through his. “Betsy Mae didn’t want to have dinner with you?”
Silas dips his head sheepishly. “You guessed it.”
I laugh, pulling him out of the kitchen to show him my dream.