All For You (Boys of the South) (9 page)

“Your momma
had a green thumb, just like you,” he says and I glance up at
him in surprise. He never willingly talks about her, at least not
without a six-pack or two behind him.

“So do you.”

“Nah, not like
she did. I swear that woman could talk plants into growing.”

“With a name
like Wisteria Holland, what else could she do?”

My dad grunts in
answer before saying, “In another year, I’ll be ready for
you to start shouldering more of the responsibilities of Walsh Lawn
Service. Are you up for that?”

“Do frogs
jump?”

My dad laughs,
letting go of the fern and the subject of the woman who left both of
us. “We’re invited to the Diaz house for a Christmas Eve
party. Feel like going?”

If I say no, he’ll
know something’s up, and if I say yes, he’ll ask me why
I’d want to go hang out with people I barely know. Shrugging, I
say, “I dunno. What do you feel like doing?”

He takes a pull from
his bottle of beer, then says, “Diaz is nice enough. So’s
his wife, but I’d feel out of place there, like if I touch
something, a maid will be right behind me, wiping away any trace of
my existence. I’d rather be here at home, watching
A
Christmas Story
marathon with my little girl, and eating take-out Chinese.”

I would have given
anything for any trace of my existence to have been wiped away during
high school, until my tormentor turned lover did exactly that. “Then
we won’t go.”

“You shouldn’t
feel like that, too.” He moves the clay pot to one side.
“You’re just as good as the rest of them.”

“Never thought
I wasn’t,” I say lightly.

“Mac, you
might fool everyone else around here, but you can’t fool your
daddy.” His gaze turns harsh. “Weston Diaz is damned
lucky you chose him, out of every guy around here, to spend time
with. Make sure he knows it, and treats you accordingly.”

My heart jumps into
my throat and all I can do is wrap my arms around the one man who’s
always taken care of me and hug him tight.

“I love you,
Daddy.”

“Love you,
too.”

“Would you
mind if I go hang out with Julia instead of watching
Duck
Dynasty
with you?”

He lets go of me.
“Go on. Have some fun. Be twenty for once, but not too twenty.”

Grinning, I text
Julia and press a kiss on my dad’s cheek. “You don’t
know how much I need this.”

“Honey, we all
need that, every now and again.”

***   ***   ***

West

For the past hour,
I’ve been playing soccer with my dad in the backyard. Nothing
too competitive, but he’s good enough to keep me on my toes.

“Eyes on the
ball, son,” he’d say before every pass.

Once he gave me a
tennis ball, and made me do drills with it. Tiny and greenish-yellow,
I hated that thing, because it was so difficult to keep going and
find in the grass… until I realized how much improved my game.

I still refuse to
play tennis though.

“Ready to
talk, old man,” I say, panting a little as I sweep my leg out
and kick the ball back to him.

He grabs the ball,
tucking it under one arm and nods at the patio. A pitcher of water
with lemons floating in it, and two glasses wait for us beside a
veggie platter. My mother’s doing, I know.

“Are you happy
at school?” My dad pours water in the glasses and hands me one.

This wasn’t
the opening I thought he’d go for. Honestly, I thought he’d
heard McKenzie and me.

“Yes, sir.”
This is not the time to talk about transferring to Carolina.
Instead, I dig into the veggie tray and scarf down about a dozen
carrot sticks.

“And
Charlotte?”

A handful of grape
tomatoes never make it to my mouth. I drop the handful in front of me
on the table. “She seems to like school.”

“That’s
not what I’m asking.”

I can’t lie to
him; I’ve never been able to lie to him. “We’re not
together anymore.”

“This is good
to know, especially after the strip show you performed at Tanaka’s.”

“It wasn’t
a strip show.”

He raises his brow
at me, and I hold up a hand. “Okay, so out of context, it was a
strip show, but in context, it was me, willingly humiliating myself
for—” I swallow, unsure how to phrase things best, so
that I don’t make McKenzie sound awful, and I still manage to
protect my parents’ image of me.

I shake my head.
That’s my problem.
Image.
All my life I’d been concerned with my image, and here I was,
after everything, still concerned with how my dad might view me from
now on.

“McKenzie
Walsh.”

I nod, and then drop
my gaze to my feet. “I wasn’t very nice to her in high
school,
Papi
.
You might say I was… no, you
would
say I bullied her. I humiliated her at every turn, and didn’t
stop others from doing it, even after I’d stopped.”

“Why would you
do such a thing?”

My head snaps up.
“Because I was a stupid boy who wanted a pretty girl to notice
me. I have no excuse, and I don’t want to be excused.”

My dad begins
speaking in Spanish, something he saves for when he’s really
pissed or really happy. Suddenly, I realize he’s praying. He’s
asking God to forgive him for raising such a selfish child, to
forgive him for failing me as a parent. He’s asking God for the
Walsh’s forgiveness, especially the daughter’s, and I
can’t help but choke up.

Lo
siento mucho de verdad, por favor perdóname.

I’m
so very sorry, please forgive me.

“
Por
favor perdoname
,”
I whisper, taking my father’s hand. “It’ll never
happen again.”

He
looks up at me, his dark eyes sad and thoughtful. I can see my
reflection at the center of his disappointment. God, it hurts, but
it’s no less than I deserve.

“I
hope so.” Then he rises from the chair, his hand slipping from
my grip, and heads inside.

The
sun has set by the time I get up. My muscles protest, cramping a bit
because I didn’t cool down the right way, as I walk. I head
upstairs to my room and shower, changing into the most conservative,
dad-friendly outfit I own without heading into church clothes
territory.

I
take out my earrings, but leave on my medallion. A guy needs all the
help he can get from above, after all. A quick check in the mirror
and I’m off to McKenzie’s, with a stop at Charlie’s
house first.

I
knock on the door, instead of letting myself in like I would have
done, and had been expected to do in the past.

Mrs.
Foster greets me, her brow scrunching. “Is there something
wrong, Weston?”

“No,
ma’am. Is Charlie home?”

“I’m
right here,” Charlie says, bouncing into the foyer with her
dog, Dozer, under her arm. “Where are you going in that—a
job interview?”

“No.”

Her
face dawns with understanding, and her lips thin. “Don’t
do this.”

“Charlie,”
I begin, and then turn to her mom. “Mrs. Foster. We need to
talk.”

***

“She’s
not here?” I stare up at Mr. Walsh, with what has to be the
blankest look in history. “But she never goes out.”

“You
saying my daughter is some kind of—?”

“I’m
not saying she’s anything but perfect and smart and beautiful.”

Her
dad frowns at me.

“And
really, really smart.”

His
frown disappears. “Those flowers for her?”

“Unless
you want them.”

He
barks out a laugh. “You got big ones.”

“Any
chance you’d like to share where she and Julia went?”

He
glances at the flowers, and then back at me. I fight the urge to
cover my junk, in case he decides that my balls need resizing.
“Cunningham’s. Mac texted me about ten minutes ago,
asking about cab fare, so she wouldn’t get ripped off.”

“Damn
smart girl,” I say, before taking off and tossing, “Er,
sorry, sir,” over my shoulder.

“Don’t
tell her I told you where she was,” he calls out after me.

I
race out of the driveway, almost halfway to my exit, when I realize
that Cunningham’s is for the twenty-one and older crowd. And
I’d left my fake ID at home.

Grimacing,
I call the one person who can help me. Too bad he’s also the
one person who’s likely to tell me to shove it.

Chapter Eleven

McKenzie

“That
asshole,” Julia shouts over the music, and then takes another
shot.

We’re at
Cunningham’s, down in Charlotte, and putting our fake ID’s
to good use.

I take a shot and
wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, belatedly wondering how we’ll
get home. Cabs don’t go all the way to Forrestville, do they?

“Seriously.”
Julia makes a face. “He made a promise? What is he—the
mailman or a politician?”

“West
does
deliver,”
I drunkenly giggle. “Over and over. So, mailman?”

Julia snorts. “I
caught him with Charlie once while they were going at it on her deck.
She sounded like a cat in heat. But his rear end. Dear God, you could
bounce a quarter off his ass.”

My face falls, the
nice buzz I had going dashed by the cold reality that the guy I’ve
been sleeping with used to sleep with my biggest enemy.

Julia slams a hand
over her mouth, and then crosses her finger over her heart. “No
more. Swear.”

“Think his ass
could survive a backhoe bouncing off it?”

“I have no
idea what that is, but if it’s heavy equipment doing serious
damage, I’m all about it.” She holds up another glass.
“Cheers?”

I take the last shot
I plan to drink tonight and clink it against hers. “Cheers.”

“Oh!”
Julia’s eyes light up like she’s just had the best idea
ever. “You can go as my date Friday night.”

“Worst idea
ever,” I gasp as the liquor burns a new path down my throat.
“I’ll look pathetic.”

“We’ll
look fabulous.”

“You’ll
look fabulous and I’ll admire from afar, like way far at home.”

“Not listening
to that kind of talk.” Julia stands up, waving a twenty in the
general direction of the bartender. “SHOTS!”

Oh dear Lord.
She’s going to get us kicked out.

“I think
you’re friend might have had too much to drink.”

I turn, finding a
really hot guy in the barstool beside me. He’s dressed for
work, like he’s a banker or something. His tie is loose around
his neck, but his light brown hair is still office approved.

“You think?”

“I’m
Mason Stone, by the way, and you are?”

“McKenzie.”

“Just
McKenzie?”

“Walsh.
McKenzie Walsh.”

“Nice. So,
McKenzie Walsh, can I buy you a drink?” I laugh as the
bartender makes Julia sit and gives her shots of water instead. But
Julia, bless her heart, is too drunk to notice.

“Wow, that’s
smooth,” she exclaims, and I smother a giggle.

“It’s
why I come here when I’m in town,” Mason says dryly.

I smile at him. “You
seem like a really nice guy, but—”

He sucks in air
through his teeth. “Ouch.
Nice
and a
but
in the same breath.” He places a hand on his muscular chest.
“You wound me.”

I can’t help
but keep grinning. “I think you’ll be okay. There are
about a dozen women just waiting to take my place.”

“Yeah, but
none of them will be you.” Smirking at something over my
shoulder, he lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it. “Maybe
another time.”

“Mmm-hmm,”
I say noncommittally as Mason leaves.

I turn to Julia,
only to find West, his eyes flashing with anger, and his mouth drawn
tight.

***   ***   ***

West

“We’re
leaving,” I growl, taking her hand.

Instead of
protesting or pulling away, she follows me outside. Once there,
however, she snatches her hand away, and starts walking in the
opposite direction.

“Where do you
think you’re going?”

“To find
Julia.”

“She’s
with Parker.”

“That makes me
feel
sooo
much better,” she says, and then whirls around. “What are
you doing here?”

“I could ask
the same of you.” I rake my gaze down her, taking in her red
boots, black miniskirt, and halter-top. She shivers. “Here.”
I wrap my coat around her.

“So you’re
not going to go all caveman on me, drag me into the nearest alley,
and then screw me against the wall?”

I give her a wicked
smile. “The thought had crossed my mind.”

“Guess the
thrill wears off once you’ve already done everything and then
some with someone else,” she snaps. “Everything and
everyone else seems boring in comparison.”

“There’s
no comparison, McKenzie. I haven’t given any other female a
second thought.”

“Because
you’re too busy with your first ones.”

I ignore her
reference to Charlie. “I went to your house to pick you up, and
imagine my surprise to learn that you weren’t there.”