Love Is All Around (18 page)

“Momma said I needed more style, something to make me stand out from the crowd.”

“Well, it does that.”

“She loaned me her shoes too.” Ruthann twisted her foot, revealing four-inch mules with zebra-striped fur trim.

Good Lord, Ruthann was turning into Tilde.

“Can you even walk in those things?”

“Sure.” Ruthann twirled on one foot and promptly fell off the porch into the wisteria bush.

Patsy hoped they were having a special on beer tonight. If Randy didn’t need liquoring up, she would.

Chapter 11

Patsy got Ruthann into the roadhouse without either of them breaking a leg. She pushed her friend into a chair and ordered her to stay put. “I’ll get us some drinks.”

The line at the bar was short. Patsy paid for their drinks and turned to head back to the table. Ruthann was no longer alone. Will sat next to her, facing Patsy. Damn it all. Who’d have thought he’d be at the roadhouse on a Wednesday night? Patsy stopped twenty feet from them, condensation from the cold bottles chilling her hands. He and Ruthann seemed engrossed in conversation. He was dressed casually, in a Blues jersey and navy shorts. The hockey shirt emphasized the broadness of his shoulders and seemed to fit the clean-cut, bad-boy image he pulled off so well. Looking up, Ruthann flashed her a grin. Patsy took a long pull from her Bud Light and returned to the table.

“Here’s your drink.” She handed Ruthann her wine cooler and pretended she didn’t notice the 190 pounds of enticement sitting next to her.

“Will said he gave you a tour of his house the other day,” Ruthann commented. “But that your Aunt Tilde interrupted you.”

Patsy studied the pattern of gouges and scars that adorned the wooden tabletop.

“He said you particularly enjoyed the turret.” Ruthann continued.

Patsy flicked her gaze to Will. He was the picture of innocence. Ruthann, oblivious to the undercurrents surging from her friend, kept talking.

“Something about the wainscoting. What did you say it was, leather?” She angled her head at Will. With a mild tilt to his lips, he nodded a reply. Ruthann glanced at Patsy before continuing, “He said you got really excited about the leather wainscoting.”

Patsy slid her beer back and forth with short, quick movements. Will’s innocent smile might fool Ruthann, but not Patsy. She knew a smirk when she saw one. It wasn’t like he was Mr. In Control in that turret either.

Sure, Patsy’d gotten a little forward, what with the underwear thing, but she didn’t remember him running away; quite the opposite, really. Now he sat there all smug, like he had a secret on her. Damn, he was annoying.

Ruthann glanced from Patsy’s twitching bottle and narrowed eyes to Will’s smart-aleck smile with alarm and placed her hand on Patsy’s. “You need to pee? I think I need to pee.”

Patsy stared at her, dumbfounded. Where had that come from? “Well, then pee. You don’t need me helping you.”

Ruthann glanced nervously at Patsy’s beer and stood up. “As long as I’m up, let me get the next round.” She grabbed the bottle and scurried away from the table.

“Hey, I wasn’t finished with that,” Patsy yelled after her.

Will slid into the seat next to Patsy. “What did you do to her?”

“Me? You’re the one being all coy and smart-assy.”

“Smart-assy?” He looked offended.

 Let him pretend he didn’t know what she was talking about. “Maybe she was protecting you.” Someone fired up the jukebox. As the sultry strains of a slow song wafted over them, Patsy stared after her friend.

“What game were you playing anyway?” Patsy asked, resisting the urge to sway along with the music. Some silly song about feeling love in your toes; Ruthann had probably picked it.

“No game. I don’t play games, and I didn’t realize I needed protecting.” He edged his chair closer, pressing his bare knee against hers. Two square inches of contact had never felt so intimate. Patsy suppressed a shiver and the urge to run her hand up his thigh.

The voice from the jukebox advised she should let love show.

Let it show. There was an idea, she could just trail her fingers up that muscular thigh… Patsy shook her head. Where was Ruthann with her beer?

Let it show. How insane. There needed to be less showing around here, not more. For example, bare knees; men should wear jeans, not leave all that skin exposed, letting it press up against hers, all warm and rough and masculine.

It was lewd. That’s what it was. Patsy needed to take a stand for decency. She attempted to pull her leg away, but her skin seemed to have formed some kind of bond with Will’s. She should just stand up or maybe shove Will off his chair onto the floor.

She should, but she didn’t. She just sat there, trapped by the heat surging between them and the seductive music wrapping them together.

Finally, the music faded into silence. Patsy exhaled loudly, releasing a breath she hadn’t realized she was holding.

Thank God that song was over. Sweet and sentimental. Save it for the gullible.

Ready to set Will straight on a few boundaries, namely the one that kept his bare skin away from hers, Patsy opened her mouth.

“Howdy, sis.” Dwayne, Randy, and, to Patsy’s further annoyance, Jessica pulled up chairs and sat down.

Just when she was getting ready to show Will he couldn’t play cute with her.

“We’re not interrupting nothing, are we?” Dwayne grinned.

“No,” Patsy grumbled. She edged away from Will until a nice solid inch of air separated their knees. Not as good as lighting into him, but he got the message.

“Nothing at all.” Will slid his chair over. Now, his entire leg, from knee to thigh, pressed against Patsy’s. “That give you enough room?”

Patsy fumed. He might as well be sitting in her seat. She slid her hands under the edge of her chair to scoot it away from Will, and his hand dropped on her thigh.

Patsy froze.

“Oh, I don’t need much room. I’ll just squeeze in right here.” Jessica turned sideways, pressing her chest Will’s direction and pushed her way into the seat next to him. “You give anymore thought to getting office space downtown? I’d just love to help you out.” The bimbo ran her fingers down the neckline of her low-cut top, stopping at the swell of her breast.

She’d like to help him out all right, right out of his pants. Patsy snorted. Jessica had the gall to look annoyed.

“I’m working on something, but I don’t need space right now. Maybe in the next month or so, and for sure by spring.” Will made little circles with the pads of his fingers on the inside of Patsy’s thigh. “Did you have something special in mind?” Patsy clamped her legs together, trapping his hand. He responded by squeezing and massaging the soft flesh of her inner thigh.

Jessica wet her lips. “I’m sure I can come up with something very special. You just let me know when you’re ready.”

Distracted by the tramp’s obvious invitation, Patsy relaxed her legs. She started to comment on what Jessica’s specialty was, but Will’s hand traveling further up her thigh turned her thoughts elsewhere.

Dwayne raised his eyebrows at her from across the table. “You got something on your mind, Patsalee? You’re wiggling like there’s earthworms in your drawers.”

“She’s a little fidgety tonight, isn’t she?” Will looked at Patsy with concern as his fingers inched higher.

Smart-ass. Correction, forward smart-ass. “I’m fine.” Desperate to end the contact before she lost all control, she plucked Will’s roaming hand off her leg and deposited it into his lap. “I was just hoping we could hear more about the special services Jessica has to offer.” She turned a saccharine smile on her rival.

“We were talking about real estate,” Jessica retorted. “Not that I couldn’t be talked into a few special services on the side.” She winked at Will.

Will, Patsy noticed, hadn’t tried to put his hand back on Patsy’s thigh, and now he was laughing with Jessica. Patsy fought the urge to shove her head under the table to see just what territory his hands were exploring now.

“What’s everybody laughing at?” Ruthann wobbled up to the table. She’d applied a fresh coat of blinding pink lipstick.

At least it took attention away from her hair. “Where’s my beer?” Patsy asked. Stuck at a table with Jessica and Will, and no drink.

“Oh, I forgot. Besides, beer’s fattening. You should try something lighter.” Ruthann held out a glass of clear liquid and ice cubes.

“What’s that?” Patsy asked.

“Citron martini on the rocks. I read in
Cosmo
it’s what all the stars of Sex and the City drink in real life.”

“That show’s not even on anymore,” Patsy replied. Will picked up his drink with his left hand, and replaced his right on Patsy’s thigh. Something inside her unclenched.

“I got the first three seasons on DVD.” Ruthann fished the lemon out of her drink. “I thought I’d try something new.”

Patsy was trying something new too, melting into the sensation of strong fingers caressing her bare skin. She barely noticed the conversation going on around her.

Ruthann squeezed in next to Randy. “Hey, Randy. I saw your momma and Luke at church on Sunday. Did she tell you I said hi?” Ruthann pulled a strand of hair through her fingers.

Randy studied the same pattern of scars and gouges Patsy had earlier. “No, she didn’t mention it.”

Will removed his hand to wave at the waitress for another beer and Patsy returned to her senses. She was losing it. She had to pay attention, both to what was going on with Ruthann and Randy and to what was happening with her. She picked up her purse and wedged it between herself and Will.

Ruthann was floundering. “Did you hear the BiggeeMart’s having a coloring contest for Daisy Daze? First prize is a year’s supply of Twinkies and juice boxes.” She gave an attempt at eyelash fluttering. “I can get Luke a coloring page, if you like.”

“That’d be nice,” Randy mumbled.

This was painful. Patsy had to do something. Dancing was the ticket, but nothing slow. No more love songs. “Dwayne, put some money in the jukebox. Play something peppy,” Patsy emphasized the last.

“Why should I...”

Patsy’s intense look cut her brother off short.

“Fine,” he grumbled and meandered away.

Lynyrd Skynyrd began asking for “three steps, Mister.” You could always count on Dwayne to avoid the sweet and sentimental.

“Ruthann, you love this song, don’t you?” Patsy prompted. She felt her purse bump against her leg. Thank God she’d brought a big one. It’d be hard for Mr. Handsy to get past that subtly.

Ruthann studied her split ends.

“And this is a great song to dance to. It’d be a shame to waste it.”

Ruthann just blinked back at her.

“I’d love to dance.” Jessica grazed Will’s arm with her fingertips.

Patsy frowned at Jessica while she kicked Ruthann under the table.

“Oh, me too.” Ruthann exclaimed.

“So, Will, what do you say? How about a twirl around the dance floor? I’ll show you some new moves.” Jessica didn’t even bother to hide the double entendre. She walked her fingers up his arm until her hand cupped his shoulder.

Patsy considered picking up her purse and flinging it across the table. She couldn’t decide who was annoying her most: Jessica for being Jessica, Ruthann for doing nothing more enticing than chewing on a lemon rind, Randy for being stubborn and difficult, or Will for… well, she wasn’t sure what was going on with Will, but she was damn sure annoyed.

“Come on, girl, let’s dance.” Dwayne solved one of her problems by grabbing Jessica’s hand and dragging her away from the table. Patsy allowed herself a small victory grin before returning to her other concerns.

Her purse seemed to be slipping toward the floor. Time to give up on being subtle. “Randy, dance with Ruthann.”

He started to object, but Patsy stared him down. “Now.”

Her purse plopped onto the dirty floor.

“Things not going as planned?” Will asked as the rest of the table left.

His hand was back on her knee. How could he act so casual when he was turning her insides to pudding? “When do they, lately?” she asked.

“Good question.” The expression in his eyes was distant for a minute. “Maybe we should plan less.” His fingers started the swirl thing again. Patsy really liked the swirl thing; ‘course, that massage thing wasn’t bad either.

Snap out of it. He was playing with her. She should act just like him, like this intimate contact had no effect on her.

She plastered a disinterested look on her face. “You won’t get anywhere without planning, except right back where you started.” Patsy set the Sex and The City drink on a Bevnap. “Ruthann asked me to help her with Randy. I sure wouldn’t be matchmaking if she hadn’t.”

Will raised an eyebrow. “Hmmm, so you don’t approve of her choice.”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Some things don’t have to be said.” His hand went into massage mode.

Yeah, that was her favorite. Her head started to loll backward.

She jerked it upright and smacked the bottom of the glass against the table, burying the remains of the lemon under a pile of ice. “You never told me what the favor was you needed.”

His hand stilled. “Your father won’t let me replace his Crown Vic.”

Patsy couldn’t hide her confusion. “Dwayne said you were paying for the repairs.”

“The repairs, yes, but I want to get him a new one.”

She deserted the Citron. “A new one? As in a new Crown Victoria? Are you crazy? According to Randy, it was just some hoses and new side panels.”

Will’s face took on distinct shades of pout. “I shot his car.”

Good Lord, talk about male ego. “It’s not like he was in it.”

“I shot his car.”

Did he think she was slow on the uptake? “I was there, remember? So, you shot his car. Believe me, you aren’t the first person around here to shoot something they weren’t aiming at. If you’d hit the front door, would you have bought him a new house?”

The look on his face said he would.

An exasperated huff escaped her lips. “You are crazy. He doesn’t need a new car. The one he has will be fine in about a week. Then you’ll pay the bill, get your BMW back, and everything will be back to normal.” A thought stopped her. “How are you getting around, anyway?”