Gone From Me: Hearts of the South, Book 10 (3 page)

Aluminum clanged as he clambered down the ladder. Shade from the porch enveloped him in cool relief once he reached the ground. He jerked his chin at Montgomery in silent greeting and walked by her to the cooler. Icy cold shocked his hand when he plunged it in, seeking a bottled water. He cast a glance over his shoulder at her and lifted the bottle. “Want one?”

“I’m good.” She hefted the half-full container. Her serene blue gaze slid over him once more, then narrowed slightly, as if he annoyed her. What was with that, anyway? They’d barely had two conversations during this repair blitz.

He tucked the bottle cap in his pocket and poured cold heaven into his mouth. He closed his eyes. Man, that was good—

“Blake Calvert, when are you finally going to ask me out?”

He choked. Icy water burned his nasal passages, spurted from his nose. Harsh coughs seized his chest. He straightened best he could, eyes watering, and met Montgomery’s irritated gaze. “Do what?”

She rested a hand on one gently curved hip and lifted that gorgeous blue gaze heavenward. “I asked when you were going to finally ask me out.”

Was she joking or serious? He swallowed, throat still raw, and lifted the bottle for another swig, buying time. She had to be joking. He could handle that, could play things that way. He rolled his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. “Am I supposed to?”

Her eyes went wide, and he caught a glimmer of tears before she spun to stalk away, dark brown hair a shining sheet down her back.

Oh, frick. She’d been
serious
. She’d been serious and he’d screwed that up for sure.

His half-empty bottle hit the grass. “Montgomery, wait up.”

She kept going, long strides carrying her toward the vehicles parked on the street.

“
Wait
.” He broke into a jog, reaching for her arm as he caught up to her. He tugged her around to face him. Defiant blue eyes glittered up at him, and he cast about for the right words. Holy heaven, her skin was soft against his palm. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah.” She twisted her arm, trying to break his hold. “So am I.”

“I mean it.” He didn’t let go but pulled her toward him. Heat radiated off her tanned skin, intense awareness shivering over him. Oh man, that smell—sunscreen and summer, something a little alluring and sheer Montgomery—and this was why he hadn’t let himself get too close to her, ever, because if he did, he was going to want more, want everything, and holy frick, that was dangerous.
She
was dangerous. He licked his bottom lip. “I thought you were joking.”

“Sure. Right.” She wouldn’t look at him, her gaze trained on his throat, and her voice trembled under the attitude. “Like I’d joke about something I’ve wanted two freaking years.”

Thank You, Lord
. He slid his hold to her wrist, shifted her nearer to him. With his other hand, he tipped her chin up so he could look into those gorgeous eyes. He half-grinned, one corner of his mouth hitching. “What took you so long to say something, then?”

To his intense relief, teasing laughter replaced the damp shine of tears. She poked a finger into his chest. “Because I thought sooner or later, you’d figure it out on your own. You’re an engineering major. You’re supposed to be good at putting things together.”

“You’re an art major.” He liked having her this close to him, liked the way she seemed to curve into his body, not quite touching but heating him all over. “You’re supposed to paint me a picture.”

She slid that maddening fingertip down the center of his chest, his skin tingling in her wake. “So are you going to ask me out?”

He dared to trail a knuckle down her jaw. “So, Montgomery, you want to go out with me some time?”

Her eyes sparkled. “Tonight.”

“We could do that…” He swallowed a groan as a promise hastily given tugged at him.
Darn
it. He dropped his hand from her face and shoved his bangs away from his forehead. “I’m supposed to have dinner with some friends from high school. I promised.”

“Oh.” Disappointment flickered across her features.

“You could come with me. I don’t think they’d mind.” The words spilled from his mouth.
What
was he thinking? Montgomery Farr, with Zeke and Brittany, with Mike and his anonymous girl-of-the-moment? He was screwed.

“It’s not about your friends.” She pulled him from the momentary panic. Her eyes on his, she pressed nearer. “It’s about you. I just want to be with you, Blake, and I’ve waited long enough. Okay?”

He nodded, giving into an irresistible smile. “Okay.”

She bit her bottom lip, but the action didn’t hide her wide grin. “What time should I be ready?”

“Seven.” He suppressed a wince at the memory of the last dinner he’d gone to at Zeke and Britt’s. “And dress real casual.”

* * * * *

Amy stepped from the shower and wrapped herself in a towel. Early-evening sunlight peeked through the shades on their bedroom windows. A huge leaden lump of dread still occupied her stomach, but at least the shower had let her wash away some of the day’s stickiness. She walked into the bedroom, feet sinking into the carpet, and startled. “Oh, hey.”

Rob stood at his dresser, stripping his gear from his belt. He glanced around at her. “Hey.”

“I didn’t hear you come in.” She touched a finger to the base of her throat. Stupid to feel exposed and uncomfortable like this. He’d seen her in less than a towel, for heaven’s sake. Except the man before her, head bent over the task at hand, seemed more like a stranger.

A stranger she hadn’t even realized had taken her husband’s place.

“I’ve only been here a few minutes.” Lamplight glimmered off the strands of sun-lightened gold in his brown hair.

She perched on the edge of their bed. Getting dressed beckoned, but that meant getting naked first. Somehow, that seemed wrong. “How was your day?”

He made a strangled sound in his throat. “Okay.”

Okay
? She fiddled with the edge of the towel and swallowed hard. “I know about you and Jake today.”

He lowered his head, shoulders slumping for a second before tightening. “Yeah?”

“Are you all right?” She hated the tentative note in her voice. “What exactly happened?”

“Apparently, Jake thinks I should let you go to be with a real man like him.” He jerked the top drawer open, dropped his keys and wallet into the basket there, and slammed it shut. “Do we really have to talk about him right now?”

“No.” She tucked one foot behind her ankle and wished the lump in her gut would go away. While she was at it, she wished the last six months, with all their disappointment and stress, had never happened and they could simply be who they used to be. She wanted them back on track, executing the plan and setting up the next steps of their lives. She couldn’t stand this holding pattern. “But we really have to talk right now.”

“I know.” He spun to lean against the dresser and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t… I don’t know what to talk about.”

“I know.” She wanted to laugh it off, make a joke about it, but the whole situation was so unfunny that she needed to cry. She, who hardly ever cried. She eyed the muscles in his arms, outlined by the smooth white cotton pulled taut by his stance. A year ago, she’d have tossed the towel aside and climbed all over him, pulled him down to her so she could have that lean strength all over her. “How did we get like this?”

He lifted his hands and let them fall, but didn’t say anything.

“We have to do something, Rob. We can’t just…keep going.”

“I think that’s why we’re where we are.”

A sudden, horrifying thought slipped through her brain. “You don’t want a divorce, do you?”

“No.” He scowled. “Do you?”

“No!” She hooked her hair behind her ear. Simply thinking about it made her stomach hurt. She sought for humor to cover the fear. “I am not telling my mother I’m getting a divorce.”

He laughed, an honest-to-goodness laugh, like the Rob she’d married. “That’s what you’re worried about? Telling your
mother
we’re splitting up?”

“We’re not splitting up. We agreed on that. But my mother adores you… She’d keep you and disown me.”

“She might. And I know your sister would.” Humor lit his face for a moment before uncertainty darkened his expression once more. “I really don’t know what to do here, Amy.”

“I think we’re going to have to figure it out together.” She tightened the towel’s knot and tried to put on a bright smile. “At least we know we’re on the same page about staying together. So, um, we should do dinner together or something. We haven’t been doing that a lot lately. Do you want to go out somewhere? We haven’t tried any of the local places.”

“Not really.” He didn’t look at her, but toed out of his shoes and set them in the closet. “I’m kind of tired.”

“Why don’t you grab a shower, then, and I’ll see what we have in the kitchen.”

“Yeah. Sure.” He moved by her to the bathroom, and she closed her eyes on a relieved breath. Seconds later, water started in the shower.
After a long moment, she moved to dress and headed for the kitchen. With the problem of food, she actually knew where to start.

* * * * *

Blake rapped on Montgomery’s hotel room door and waited. He fidgeted with the strip of braided leather tied about his wrist, ran his thumb over the sterling oval bound to it. Anticipation and apprehension warred within him.

The door swung inward, and Montgomery greeted him with her trademark smile. “Hey.”

“Hey.” His gaze skittered over her, taking in the white strapless top that revealed golden shoulders, brief khaki shorts that showcased long tanned legs, and even the gold thong sandals that flattered her pretty feet. “You look great.”

“You said real casual.” She stepped onto the sidewalk, and the door closed with a thud. “I figured this was it.”

“Yeah, but you make real casual look real good.” He scrubbed a hand over his nape.

“You are so sweet.” She swayed into him and kissed his cheek. With her arm tucked into his, she stroked her fingertips along his forearm. “Are we ready to go?”

“Um, yeah.” She was short-circuiting his brain. With her nearness buzzing through him, he led her toward his truck and helped her into the passenger seat.

Somehow he managed not to sound like a complete moron during the drive out to Zeke and Britt’s place. Montgomery graced his truck as if she’d been with him forever, leaning forward to fiddle with the radio, twirling his shark-shaped air freshener, letting her hand drift over his shoulder.

He swallowed, her touch and Allison Krauss washing over him. Evening sunlight dappled the road and blinded him every so often while the familiar back-road scenery flashed by. He caught a glimpse of Uncle Tick’s house on the left, his uncle tossing a baseball with Blake’s cousin on the front lawn.

Montgomery’s hand rested on his shoulder, her fingertips toying with the edges of his hair. He swallowed again, the gulp hurting his throat. Shoot, he didn’t know what to say to her, now that she was here, this close and seeming to want to be with him. He had to say something.

He scrubbed his palm over the top of the steering wheel. “I’m glad you’re here tonight.”

“Me too.” She rested her fingers along his nape. “Relax, Blake. You act like you’ve never been out with a girl before.”

“They didn’t mean what you do.” The words spilled before he had even thought through them. The truck swerved. Frick. Yeah, he was smooth.

She trailed a touch along his jaw. “I’m glad.”

“Really?” He darted a glance at her as he slowed to turn onto the long blacktop road leading to Zeke and Britt’s place.

A slow smile curved the mouth he was dying to feel under his own. “Oh, yes, really.”

She slipped her hand down his arm, finally curving her palm over his thigh. With her free hand, she lowered the window, warm air colored with the aroma of rain and pesticides filling the cab, ruffling her hair and kissing his skin. Her hand tightened on his thigh, and she closed her eyes on a deep breath. “That smell is the best. Atlanta never smells like that.”

He smiled. She was right. Relaxing on a deep inhale of his own, he gave himself over to the pleasure of the moment and finally being with her.

He only hoped whatever happened tonight at Zeke and Britt’s didn’t ruin everything.

Chapter Three

Some things never changed.

Blake grinned as he helped Montgomery down from the truck. Under the scrub oak at the end of Zeke’s singlewide, Zeke and Mike lounged in folding chairs. A half-empty beer dangled from Mike’s hand; smoke trailed lazily up from the rusty gas grill to their left. The bug light hanging from the tree limb above them sizzled and fizzed each time a suicidal insect flew into the bluish glow. Music flowed from the cheap radio propped on the plastic table between the chairs.

“Yo, Blake.” Zeke lifted a hand in welcome, a familiar gesture, and Blake’s grin widened.

Yeah, some things never changed. He could depend on Zeke and Mike to be good ol’ Zeke and Mike, and even with Britt’s craziness and the fight that was almost sure to start tonight, sometimes it was damn good to be home and be with his buddies.

“Hey, Zeke.” He dared to let his palm rest at the small of Montgomery’s back and ushered her toward his friends.

Mike shuffled to his feet and held out his arms. “Looky, looky…the prodigal has returned home from the big city of Hot-lanta.”

“Prodigal, my ass.” Blake took Mike’s proffered hand and let himself be dragged into a sloppy, back-pounding male hug. “Good to see you, Mikey.”

“How you doing, boy?” Zeke half-rose, and they shook hands before he slumped back into his chair. Oh, yeah. He was well on his way to being lit.

“I’m all right.” He drew Montgomery forward, the warmth of her bare shoulder against his palm an unreal thrill. “Montgomery, these are my friends Zeke and Mike. Guys, this is Montgomery Farr, a, um, friend of mine from Atlanta.”

“Nice t’meet ya.” Zeke pushed the bill of his battered Braves hat up with one finger. “Wanna beer? Or we got Jack and Coke, or just Coke if you want it. Know Blake here don’t drink.”

Montgomery smiled, shining hair shifting across Blake’s hand as she turned that soft, oh-so-damn-sexy curve of her lips on him. “Coke’s fine.”

He could look at her all night, and as much as he was glad to see the old group here, he really wished he’d broken his promise to show up for dinner tonight and taken off alone somewhere with the gorgeous girl, well,
woman
seducing him with her smiling eyes and glossy lips.

Man, he had it bad.

“I’ll, um, get you that Coke.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder, at the cooler sitting by the trailer’s metal steps. His neck burned. If he was any damn smoother, he’d be forty-grit sandpaper.

“Sounds great.” She tossed that dark hair over one shoulder and winked at him. Oh yeah, she knew exactly what she did to him.

Plunging his hands into the icy water to fish for two canned Cokes helped cool him off. Droplets dripped from his wrists, splattering his jeans. He nudged the lid down with his knee.

The trailer door slammed open and banged against the metal railing. A baby’s fussing drifted out. “Zeke, didn’t I
tell
you ten minutes ago I needed some help, and you’re still sitting out here on your lazy ass… Blake!”

Britt’s annoyed screech morphed to an excited squeal. Her heels, ridiculous for the dirt yard under the trees, clattered on the steps, and she lurched into him, one arm gripping his neck in a stranglehold while the other balanced a platter of chops. A chilly slime of marinade dripped down his arm, and Britt pulled back.

“Oh fuck, I’m sorry.” She swiped the pungent liquid from his skin and plopped a wet kiss somewhere between his cheek and his mouth. The smell and taste of cheap wine gagged him. The baby grew louder and she shoved the platter at him. “Here, take this since Zeke is too damn sorry to help. I gotta get her.”

The platter knocked one Coke from his hold; the can bounced once and the top exploded, icy fizz spraying across his Reefs and bare toes. He flinched and shook his head. Pure Brittany, that was for sure.

A blonde appeared at the open door. She held Britt and Zeke’s crying daughter the way Blake’s sister took out the trash—with wrinkled nose and at arm’s length. “Hey, Britt, I think she needs a diaper.”

“Aw, what’s the matter, sweet girl?” Britt took the toddler and cradled her close, lips buried in the sandy curls. The little girl stopped wailing, sniffled once, and tucked her head under Brittany’s chin. Britt laughed and patted her back. “Come on, Emma, let’s get you all cleaned up and we’ll show Blake how big you are now.”

“Hey, man, let me get that.” Zeke pushed up from his chair and ambled over to take the platter. “Don’t know why she made so damn much. Told her the ribs were enough.”

Blake leaned down to pick up the now-empty Coke can. He tossed it in the trash-burning barrel at the end of the trailer and fished out a second drink. His Reefs squished as he crossed to Montgomery. She took it, glanced down at his feet, then bit her lip and lifted eyes gleaming with silent laughter to his. At that moment, he wanted to kiss her so bad his teeth hurt.

“Later,” she mouthed. Anticipation tightened every muscle in his gut.

“I’m going to hold you to that.”

The back door slapped open again, and Britt clomped down the steps, baby on her hip. The blonde, phone in hand and intent on texting, followed. “Blake, you remember Tanya, right?”

Actually, he didn’t, but he smiled a greeting at her anyway. The baby squealed gleefully and reached for Zeke. His face softened with affection, he took her from Britt and rubbed his nose against her tiny one. Giggling, she patted his face and rested against his chest.

Britt flipped the grill open and shifted the ribs to one side. She gestured at Montgomery with the tongs. “Did you forget your manners, Blake?”

“Sorry.” He slipped his fingers through Montgomery’s. “Britt, Tanya, this is Montgomery. Ladies, Montgomery.”

Tanya lifted a hand in a bored wave but didn’t look up from her phone. She rested her butt on Mike’s knee.

Montgomery turned her brilliant smile on Britt. “Have we met before?”

“Yeah, once.” Britt tossed the chops on the grate. “At the wedding.”

A frown drew Montgomery’s brows together. “Wedding?”

Britt rolled her eyes. “Your brother is married to my aunt? Ring a bell?”

“Oh.” Montgomery made a show of smacking her forehead. “I’m really bad when it comes to names and faces.”

“Yeah.” Britt scowled at Zeke, who had his daughter balanced on one arm and was letting her fall backward while he held her T-shirt with the other hand. The little girl giggled wildly with each rock forward and back. “You’re gonna drop her.”

“No, I ain’t.” He bussed Emma’s nose. “Am I, baby girl? Your daddy knows what he’s doing.”

Shaking her head, Britt gave up on henpecking Zeke for the moment. She waved her tongs between Montgomery and Blake. “You two an item now?”

Blake sipped at his Coke. “First date.”

“Oh, that’s cute.” Britt’s expression indicated it was anything but. She danced the tongs in a wide arc, encompassing Zeke and the baby, the trailer and the neat yard. “Look what all I got out of dating Zeke.”

Mike took a slug from his beer and grinned at her, a hint of malevolence in the expression. “Shoulda used a condom.”

“Kiss my ass, Mike.” Britt punctuated each word with a jab of the tongs to his shoulder.

Thankfully, the conversation shifted, and once the baby was in bed, they gathered around the plastic picnic table, spread with ribs and chops as well as tater tots, baked beans and store-bought rolls. Blake popped a half-raw tot in his mouth and took a surreptitious glance at his cell. A little before nine. Once they’d eaten, maybe he and Montgomery could cut out. The image of her pretty mouth shaping the word “later” beat in his brain. He liked his buddies, yeah, but he wasn’t willing to give them too much of his “later” with Montgomery.

His plan would have worked too, if it weren’t for Mike’s big mouth.

Blake sifted his fingers through Montgomery’s hair, enjoying the caress of the smooth strands against his skin. With dinner over, the couples gathered on the swept yard patch around the grill. Tanya sprawled in Mike’s lap, alternating between texting and leaving love bites on his neck. Zeke slumped in a folding chair, beer in hand, and Britt perched with unhappy tenseness on the edge of a plastic yard chair. Blake had appropriated the shaded swing for Montgomery and himself; he’d spent the last fifteen minutes or so trying to act like he wasn’t in an all-fired hurry to get as far away as possible. The desperation left him feeling guilty because it wasn’t completely about wanting to be with Montgomery.

He’d outgrown this, the drama and the drinking, the public make-out and the pubescent masks.

As much as he wanted, really, to hang on to the good times he remembered with Zeke and Mike—and hell, even Britt before she’d gone all bitter on them, not that he blamed her—he didn’t need this anymore. The realization saddened him and deluged him with relief at the same time.

The baby monitor clutched in Britt’s hand flickered, and she lifted it to her ear, frowning. Montgomery shifted beside him, her leg a warm pressure along his. Blake rubbed his palms down his thighs, ready to slap his knees and announce they were going.

Mike scowled in Britt’s direction. “Quit playacting, would you? It’s not like you’re gonna check on the kid.”

Britt’s eyes narrowed. “You are so full of it, Mike. I’m a good mama and you damn well know it.”

“Here we go,” Zeke muttered. He lifted his nearly empty beer and squinted at the bug light through the bottle.

“What?” Britt turned her glare on her husband. “What is that supposed to mean?”

Zeke proffered both hands in a gesture of surrender that only seemed to irritate Britt further. Her face flushed, and her knuckles whitened along the edge of the baby monitor.

Definitely time to get going.

“It means,” Mike drawled, “you should spend a little more time being a good mama and wife instead of going around telling everyone you are.”

“What do you know about it, Mike Smithwick? God, you make me sick.” Britt glanced between him and Zeke. “Both of you. Lazy asses.”

Blake reached for Montgomery’s hand and linked his fingers with hers. “You know, we’re gonna—”

“Oh, hang around, Blake.” Mike’s chuckle held an ugly taunt. Blake’s skin prickled. “Show’s just getting started.”

Britt came to her feet. “Go your ass home, Mike. I’ve had enough of you.”

“I ain’t going nowhere.” Mike’s elaborate stretch almost toppled Tanya to the ground. He folded his arms behind his head.

“You damn well are, too.” Britt spun, hair fanning out in a moon-spun tangle of light. She stalked toward the steps.

Blake pushed to his feet and drew Montgomery with him. “We’re heading out. Britt, Zeke, enjoyed it, appreciate dinner.”

“Britt, don’t start now.” Weary resignation laced Zeke’s words. “You know he didn’t mean nothing.”

“Tell it to someone who’ll believe it.” Britt jerked the back door open and disappeared inside. Footsteps creaked across the thin trailer floor.

Zeke glanced at Mike’s shit-eating grin and sighed. “You can’t leave well enough alone, can you, man?”

Mike popped Tanya’s butt and tipped her off his lap. He rose and crossed to dig in the cooler for two fresh beers. “Hell, someone has to say something. You’d sit there and take her shit, like you always do.”

“Let’s get out of here.” Blake murmured the words for Montgomery’s ears only, then lifted his voice for the others. “I’ll catch up to y’all before I head back to ATL.”

Zeke accepted a dripping bottle from Mike and waved it in farewell. “Later, man.”

Footfalls stomped inside the trailer and the back door exploded into the metal railing. Louisville Slugger in the easy grip that had made her hell on the softball field back in high school, Britt cleared the ceramic flowerpots off the rickety deck railing in one swing. “You wanna tell me again you ain’t going nowhere, Mikey?”

“Shit.” The curse slipped from Blake’s lips. His stomach jerked, a little jangle of nerves moving through him, and he tightened his fingers on Montgomery’s waist. She tensed under his touch.

Tanya backed up against the scrub oak, fear tingeing her tight expression. Mike sprawled in his chair, his disdainful scowl painting him as the picture of unconcern. Britt stalked down the steps and tapped the scratched metal bat against her palm. “Well, big man?”

A groan of disgust rumbled from Zeke’s throat. “Put the fucking bat up, Brittany.”

Blake nudged Montgomery toward his Ford. “Get in the truck.”

She wrapped a hand around his biceps. “We can’t just leave.”

“Trust me and get in the truck.” He shrugged free of her easy hold. “Britt, give me the bat.”

“Stay out of it, Blake.” Britt’s eyes sparkled in a narrow-eyed glare. “This is between me and Mikey here.”

“Give me the bat, okay? Let me have it.” Behind him, the truck door snicked shut.

“No.” Visible tremors rattled her fingers and traveled up her forearms. She darted a look at him, then turned her glower back on Mike. “You don’t get it. I’m stopping it once and for all tonight.”

“You’re right, I don’t get it.” Blake pitched his voice low and easy. “Tell you what, let me hold that and you can explain it to me, all right?”

“Don’t patronize me.” Anger coated her growly huff. “I’m not stupid, okay?”

“Never said you were.” He took one step forward and held out his hand. “But this isn’t the way to fix anything—”

“Shit, Blake, shut the fuck up, would you?” Mike shoved up from the chair. “Give me the damn bat, bitch.”

“You want it?” Britt pulled it back in the classic slugger’s pose. Her eyes narrowed further. “Come and get it.”

“You think I won’t?” Mike leaned forward, arms spread. Unease trickled down Blake’s spine. Was he stupid, or what? “Think I’m scared?”

“Mike.” Blake caught his shuttered gaze and held it. “Back off, man.”

“Fuck you, Calvert—”

“No, fuck you, Mike Smithwick!” Britt swung the bat.

Ah,
heck
. Blake grabbed the top of the weapon, the impact jarring up his arm. Dull pain shot through his shoulder, but he managed to stop the aluminum’s forward momentum. In her heels, Britt stumbled and fell in an awkward sprawl. A shattered sob shook her frame.

Mike snorted a laugh and crossed his arms over his chest.