Caught Between a Lie and True Love (Caught Between series Book 1) (12 page)

The boy went into the back and Del glanced at the old men.

Why would they even think Paige would be competition? She’d barely been in town for twenty-four hours. Did they know something she didn’t?

She hissed out a pent up breath.

Maybe she’d played it too cool when she’d decided to let Brody settle into the dull routine of island life before she pursued him.

Maybe, just maybe, she was an idiot for even worrying.

Besides, what could the other woman possibly have that Delores lacked?

As she turned back to the counter, she caught her reflection in the mirror again.

Well, for starters, Paige’s bust was double-Playboy-centerfold material.

But last night, when she’d asked Brody about who was visiting Olivia, he’d been totally disinterested.

Oh gosh, she was so confused, she desperately needed a pig out session to give herself time to think.

Twenty minutes till she met Brody and the Judge at Town Hall. There was a place she knew in the park, one where she could hide with her ice cream and think without interruption.

The kid came back with the ice cream container, interrupting her thoughts, and handed it over to her, then a few moments later, handed her a steaming cup of triple-triple coffee. While she paid for her purchases, she mulled over everything she knew about her competition.

The year Paige had moved in with Olivia, she’d been a wallflower. Three years younger, she’d been the little girl next door. Brody had barely noticed her.

Hadn’t he?

No, of course he hadn’t. Paige had been so young, way too young to interest a man like Brody.

And despite the rumors that had swept through the small town—rumors that her dad was occasionally on the wrong side of the law, that her mom was some two-bit Hollywood actress—Paige Calhoun had remained a wallflower, always staying under the radar, which meant Delores hadn’t paid her much attention either.

But she certainly would now.

She took the change from the kid, then slid a quarter tip back his way. As she turned from the counter, the ice cream container clutched in one arm, the hot coffee clutched in her hand, she heard the old men again.

“
My bet is on the Calhoun girl
.”

“
You’re out to lunch. The bets are in favor of Delores. Fifty-to-one says she’s going to marry Brody. Who else is in
?”

Delores’s irritation spiked. She marched across the coffee shop, slammed the to-go cup on the table, not caring that it spilled over and made a mess, and pulled two tens from her purse. “I’m in.”

With doubt etched into the cavernous lines on his face, old man Vaughan peered up at her. “Do you know what we’re betting on?”

Plunking the tens down on the table, she gave a smile, which for some reason made the table full of old men all lean back slightly.

Weird, just like Brody
.

“I’m ahead, right?” At his nod, she reached into her purse, pulled out another thirty dollars, and slapped it on the table in front of him. “I’m a shoo-in, so I want in on the action.”

He scooped up the cash before she could change her mind.

As if
.

But she wouldn’t underestimate the enemy. If she did, she had no doubt that she’d lose the prize.

She pulled out her cell, and juggling her triple-triple coffee and the container of ice-cream, set an alarm to ring on the hour.

Spynet in progress
.

Brody was hers.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

Matilda was having second thoughts.

On the way to Town Hall to register the nomination for Jeb running for Mayor, she realized that she knew nothing about her candidate beyond the fact that he was Olivia’s son.

But the widows in town sure seemed to love him, which fit in perfectly well with her plans. It seemed that every few steps, they were accosted by another widow, as though they’d heard there was a new available man on the island, and they’d come out in droves to check him out.

Matilda didn’t much care about that. All she cared about was that Jeb would beat the pants off Brody.

And yet, the doubts were still there.

She loved this island and she didn’t want anything bad to happen to it.

Prodding him away from the circling pirañas that belonged to the over-sixty singles club, she leaned one shoulder into his so no one else could hear. “Well, that was certainly successful, wasn’t it?”

He grinned down at her, warm and jovial, so opposite the big lug she’d just dumped.

“I have five handyman jobs already. And we’ve barely even covered two blocks.”

“That’s wonderful, Jeb,” she gushed, even though she knew it was all her doing. She’d managed to convince a few of the widows to hire Jeb as their handyman.

Although, she frowned as a new batch of widows lined up for his attention, what was it exactly that drew everyone to him? He was charming and handsome and capable, and he probably could have gotten those jobs without her help or interference.

As she stood aside and watched him work his special magic on the women surrounding him, her bosom swelled with pride. She’d been the once to introduce him around town. She’d been the one that convinced him to run for Mayor. She’d be at the heart of his successful campaign.

And together, they’d drive Brody back into the hole he’d crawled out of.

Finally, Jeb broke free of the groping hands and giggling women, and as they turned the corner at the end of the block, something ugly caught her attention.

Harry’s motorhome
.

It was parked on the road in front of his house, an eyesore in the neighborhood, and a constant reminder of the man’s stubbornness.

And foolish extravagance.

It must have him a small fortune to ferry the ugly thing to the island.

It taunted her like a mistress flaunted in front of the entire town, bringing a flush to her cheeks and a heaviness to her stomach.

Then Harry came out of his house and pounded a
Vote For Brody
sign into his front yard. Determined to ignore him, she turned away.

But goodness gracious, how she missed that man. It seemed that every moment she wasn’t otherwise occupied, her traitorous mind dredged up memories of those Tuesday and Thursday nights spent in his arms—

A widow stepped into their path and stuck out her hand. “Jeb Calhoun? I’ve heard so much about you from my neighbor, Mary.”

Matilda dragged her attention from the man who had stomped on her heart without a care for her tender sensibilities, folded her hands serenely at her waist, and pasted on a fake smile.

Jeb shook the widow’s hand and leaned close, smiling into her eyes. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“I understand you’re entering your name to run for Mayor. If you want, you can pound a sign into my front yard.”

Rolling her eyes, Matilda wondered why the widow just didn’t say that Jeb could pound into her.

As the widow walked away, Jeb returned his attention to Matilda.

“You have a nice town here, Mattie.”

“Don’t call me Mattie.” Matilda’s voice went up a notch. She’d only ever allowed Harry to call her by the shortened form of her proper name. And that was over and done with. “My name is Matilda.”

Jeb quirked one eyebrow at her insistence. “Yes, Matilda.”

She shot a glance at him out of the corner of her eye, then paused on the Town Hall steps. “Since I’m nominating you and leading your campaign, people are bound to ask me about you. Have you ever been married?”

He nodded, serious now. “Once, but we divorced. That was a long time ago, in the past where it deserves to remain.”

“Children?”

“Just the one. A daughter. I believe you met Paige years ago when she stayed with my mother during the school year.”

“Oh, that’s right.” The girl had gotten in trouble with the law, then had left town in a hurry, but her disappearance had quickly been overshadowed when Matilda’s daughter informed her she was pregnant with Brody's baby.

“I have a granddaughter. Have you met her?”

She thought of Hope and shook her head. “No.”

“I’ll bring her over one day soon. Sweet kid. Kind of shy.”

“So you’re a family man. That’s in your favor.”

He gave her a strange look. “Family man. Yeah, family is important to me.”

“You should bring your family on the campaign trail.”

“I’ll discuss it with them.”

The doubt crept back into Matilda’s thoughts. Was she doing the right thing, nominating a man who was almost a total stranger? This was her hometown, after all, and she didn’t want to do anything to put their town or its reputation in jeopardy.

Movement in her peripheral vision caught her attention. She turned slightly and saw Harry walking toward them, Brody and Hope at his side. A pang of loneliness hit her square in the chest.

She missed Harry. Missed his jovial laughter, his wicked teasing, the way he looked at her when they were alone. It set butterflies afloat in her stomach.

And made her do things she hadn’t even done with her late husband.

Was it too late for them to reconcile? Could she convince him to give up his stupid motorhome and settle down with Hope and her? She’d once imagined he might love her, but neither of them had ever said the L word out loud.

Not even when he’d made that ridiculous marriage proposal.

Besides, Jeb didn’t clean the gutters like Harry did. In fact, he was kind of sloppy, like he’d never done it before, and she couldn’t help but wonder if he’d be sloppy at other things.

She shook her head.

She should be focused on more important things, like building a relationship and getting custody of her granddaughter.

Behind them, Delores ran to catch up, a huge to-go coffee cup in one hand and a chocolate covered key in the other. As the four of them strolled past, Matilda noticed that the younger woman had a smear of what looked like chocolate ice-cream on the edge of her mouth.

Matilda smirked.

If Delores thought she could sell out to the other side without retaliation, then she was in for a huge surprise. Hell would freeze over before she’d point out the smudge.

Her attention turned to her granddaughter.

Hope had her head down, playing on her iPhone, and didn’t notice her. Brody nodded her way, but Harry ignored her as though she wasn’t even there, although the way she’d reacted the other night, she supposed she deserved it.

She watched him slap Brody on the back. “You’ll make a great Mayor, son, the best Mayor this town has ever seen. Just like you make a great dad, the best dad I’ve ever seen.”

His words instantly fueled Matilda’s anger.

Yes, if she wanted custody of Hope, she had to destroy Brody at all costs—and Harry be damned.

She grabbed Jeb by the sleeve of his jacket and pulled him along. “Come on. Let’s get you registered.”

Inside, they ran directly into the opponent pack, and this time Hope couldn’t ignore her.

She placed her arms around the girl’s shoulders and hugged her tight. “I’ve missed you, honey. How are you?”

Hope squirmed. “I’m fine, Grandma.”

Harry’s big voice boomed through the room. “Stop smothering her, Matilda. Can’t you see she doesn’t want to be hugged by you?”

Matilda released her, her face flaming red as she turned away to hide her embarrassment. She felt everyone in the room’s eyes on her, including Hope’s.

Harry, the asshole. Behind her, his voice boomed again, and she forced herself to hold her chin up and turn back.

“I don’t believe we’ve met. I’m Judge Harry Malone.”

Jeb took his hand and shook it before turning to Brody. “Jeb Calhoun.”

Brody shook his hand. “I’m Brody Jackson, Olivia’s neighbor. We sort of met yesterday morning.”

“Right. You were the handyman—”

Harry’s loud voice interrupted them and carried into every crevice of the building. “What brings you to Town Hall today, Jeb?”

“Matilda has nominated me for Mayor.”

Stunned silence greeted his announcement. Brody was the first to respond. With a ready smile that pissed her off, Brody said, “Then good luck to you, Sir. May the best man win.”

Matilda wondered what kind of dirt she could dig up on Brody. It shouldn’t be too hard. In fact, all she had to do was do a little snooping—

Harry’s breath hissed in her ear, sending a wickedly delicious shiver through her body. “How do you know Jeb?”

Perfect
. She turned her head and looked him square in the eye. “He’s cleaning my gutters now.”

And the implication of her statement was there in the response in Harry’s expressive eyes.

Harry thought she was sleeping with Jeb.

Hallelujah
.

Maybe she should. Maybe it would take care of the itch Harry wasn’t around to scratch.

Except the satisfaction she should have experienced felt cold and empty.

“So I’ve been replaced already.” He laughed harshly and shook his head. “If I recall, after your husband died, it didn’t take me long to get you into my bed, Mattie. Ever thought you might be too easy?”

Matilda barely managed to contain the urge to launch herself at him and scratch out his eyes. “What are you doing? Brody's not Mayor material.”

Harry shot the two men a glance before he turned his full attention on her. His eyes burned with anger. “Something I should’ve done a long time ago. I’m going to prove Brody is capable of raising Hope.”

“By getting him elected Mayor? All that proves is that he can manipulate people into voting for him.” She stuck her nose in the air. “Besides, shouldn’t you be on the road by now?”

“I’m postponing my road trip to run his election.”

Fury hit Matilda. “You’re an old fool.”

“I may be an old fool, Mattie, but that makes you even more of a fool for sleeping with me.”

“Shush.” She glanced around to make sure no one had heard, but it seemed everyone was ignoring them. Harry may have drawn the battle lines, but that was no reason for her to air their dirty laundry in public.

She unclenched her fists, relaxed her shoulders, and as she turned her back on Harry, grabbed Jeb by the arm. “Let’s fill out those forms, then get out on the campaign trail.”

As they stood at the front counter, Harry’s big voice boomed, “Vote Brody Jackson for Mayor. He’s the best man for the job.”