Reece Page 15

  Standing apart from her, Reece gripped her hands in his. A damp tendril curled over his forehead, likening him to the man whose song he’d hummed along with. There was a faraway look in his eyes as he smiled down at her.

  “That was one of our county’s oldest traditions—the Kiss of Bliss.” He let go of her hand and wiped the dampness from his forehead. The little Elvis curl now stayed obediently in place with the rest. “How was it?”

  The room no longer swam around her, but the pounding hadn’t quite left Lanie’s brain. “Blissful,” she breathed.

  15

  Reece relaxed into Lanie’s passenger seat as Lanie pulled out onto Courthouse Road. After three years of not attending the Bliss Festival Dance, he had to admit this was a great way to end the streak.

  Elbows jutting out like bat wings, he clasped his hands behind his head. He was feeling so good, in fact, that he didn’t bother to comment when Lanie turned the wrong way onto Courthouse Road. No need to spoil the moment. She’d soon realize that she was going the wrong way and correct her mistake.

  Only a month ago, he would have wasted no time pointing out Lanie’s error. Hell, a month ago, he wouldn’t have considered taking someone like Lanie to the dance.

  He smiled to himself when he considered the new, relaxed attitude that had come over him lately. When he stopped to consider it, his “new” frame of mind wasn’t so new after all. Just three short years ago, before his father had gotten sick, Reece had been a lot like Lanie.

  The only difference was that the mischief he’d created had been intentional, whereas Lanie’s was usually accidental.

  Aware of the personality change that had begun with his father’s illness, Reece had claimed it as a conscious decision. After all, he had done the responsible thing, compensating for his father’s lack of good judgment.

  But now, after three years of playing the responsible son, Reece was beginning to see his behavior for what it really was.

  He’d been hiding. He’d felt a need to remain in complete control of his behavior and emotions, subconsciously afraid that failure to do so would result in complete loss of control.

  A memory of his father, driving aimlessly because he’d forgotten where he’d been heading, invaded Reece’s thoughts. Irrationally, Reece had abandoned the carefree ways of his younger days, as if by sheer will alone, he could protect himself from his father’s fate.

  The decisions he’d made, both conscious and subconscious, to change himself were with the feeling of “better safe than sorry.”

  Only, now, he was sorry he’d almost let the “new Reece” deny himself the chance of getting to know Lanie for who she really was. Looking beneath the wacky exterior, he could see that she was a genuine and loving woman. And unlike Jennifer Jordan, Lanie definitely had a mind of her own.

  Maybe he could take a few lessons from Lanie. There was no reason he had to give up being a solid, dependable businessman. Nor should he have to forgo the pleasure of spontaneous fun. Lanie managed to combine both in her life. Why couldn’t he?

  And one sure way to infuse spontaneous fun into his life was to make Lanie a part of it.

  Turning to look at her, he drank in the sight of her. She was the most intense person he’d ever known. Hunched over the steering wheel, she peered into the blackness as they circled the courthouse for the second time.

  “Lost?”

  “Not me. I’m looking for the little beagle that was here this afternoon. Do you see her?”

  “Why?” Reece was surprised—and somewhat pleased— to find that he wasn’t losing patience with her over the unexpected response. Instead, he found himself wanting to get involved in her latest adventure. Or misadventure.

  “She wasn’t wearing a collar. What if she doesn’t have enough to eat? And when the puppies are born, they’ll need shelter.”

  Reece resisted the urge to lay a comforting hand on her shoulder. If he touched her now, he wouldn’t want to stop. “Since Etta’s been complaining about her garbage cans being knocked over every morning, my guess is we might have some luck behind the restaurant.”

  Lanie pulled the car onto the grass beside Etta’s Eatery and angled the headlights toward the back porch. Sure enough, a small animal skulked from behind the garbage can and crawled under the porch.

  Reece got out and her to the back stairs where she hunkered down beside the broken latticework skirting the porch.

  “Here, girl. Come on.” Lanie extended a hand and made little kissing noises with her lips.

  “Be careful. She might bite if she’s afraid.”

  “She’s not afraid of me,” Lanie said confidently. Her voice rose to that funny soprano she’d used on the tadpoles that day at his mother’s pond. “You wouldn’t bite me, would you, girl? Come here.”

  Reece could hear the animal moving around under the porch. He squinted into the shadows cast by the mis-aimed headlights but couldn’t see anything except a glimpse of white.

  “Do you have a flashlight in your car?” he asked.

  She nodded. “In the glove compartment.”

  Reece jogged the short distance back to the car. Sitting half-in and half-out of the compact car, he rummaged past the papers and owner’s manual until his fingers closed around a cylindrical object.

  Something brushed against his pants. Reece aimed the light down at his leg. The little dog, still obviously very pregnant, tugged at the leather tassel on his shoe. He chuckled softly. “How did you get past Lanie?”

  He picked up the beagle and walked back to where Lanie was still kneeling. “Come on, girl,” she pleaded. “I know you’re in there.”

  Sure enough, it sounded like something was moving under the porch. Reece frowned.

  “Lanie,” he said, “look what I’ve got.” He directed the flashlight beam toward the brown-and-black bundle tucked under his arm.

  Lanie turned on her heel and looked up at them. “If you have the dog”—she spun back and peered again through the broken boards—“what’s under the porch?”

  Reece shone the light into the hole, and two angry eyes gleamed back at them. With horror, he realized the blaze of white he’d seen earlier extended down the creature’s back and along the length of its tail. He cautiously backed away. “Good Lord, it’s a polecat!”

  The dog whined, and Lanie rose slowly. “Is that anything like a skunk?”

  “One and the same,” Reece concurred.

  She backed away in as much restrained hurry as she could muster.

  Lanie unloaded the refrigerator of most of its contents. “She can have mustgos tonight. I’ll buy her some dog food tomorrow.”

  Reece glanced over her arm at the assortment of food on the kitchen table. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to give a pregnant dog Mexican food,” he said.

  “Mexican food?” She stopped mixing bologna pieces with an unidentified dish, and then laughed. “Oh, that! Mustgos are leftovers that ‘must go.’” Lanie set the pan of food and a bowl of fresh water at the back door. The little dog ate ravenously while Reece restrained Winnie from moving in on the dog’s late-night supper.

  Reece seemed in no hurry to go home, and Lanie found herself reluctant to say good night.

  “I’m sorry I almost got us skunked,” she said at last.

  “A miss is as good as a mile.” He was surprisingly jovial about it.

  Lanie did a double take at the man who, just last week, would have used the opportunity to lecture her on the importance of caution. In fact, he hadn’t once tried to deter her from her mission by mentioning the possibility that the dog could be carrying rabies. She made a mental note to have the vet check the dog thoroughly, first thing on Monday.

  “Are you all right?” she asked.

  “Yeah,” he said with a grin. “Fine as frog hair.”

  Lanie waved away an errant moth and stepped out of the porch lamp’s circle of light. Crickets chirped and cicadas buzzed, adding an eerie element to an already magical night.

  “I had f
un at the dance,” she said, illogically trying to think of a way to delay his inevitable departure.

  Reece moved to stand beside her, and Winnie managed to wedge her way between them.

  “Thanks for driving,” he said.

  “You really ought to buy a new truck.”

  His only reply was a noncommittal “Mmmph.”

  Lanie absently stroked Winnie’s mane. “You’re going to hate me Monday afternoon when you’re helping Ed Lowell with his barn.”

  Reece turned to her. Even in the feeble shadows, she could see the intensity of his gaze. “A few hours’ work for a dance with the prettiest girl in the county? A fair trade, I think.”

  Instinctively, she knew he was sincere. But, factually, she knew that if he’d wanted to dance with the prettiest girl in Bliss, he could have asked Jennifer and spared himself some work. An awkward silence followed.

  “Well—”

  “Do you—”

  “You go first,” Lanie said after they shared a bit of embarrassed laughter.

  “On nights like this, I used to sneak out the window after my parents sent me to bed. Wanna see where I went?”

  “Can I get there in these?” Lanie pointed to her strappy sandals.

  “No problem.”

  Reece reached for her hand and led her across the road to his mother’s house. On the patio, he fumbled under a lawn chair cushion for the backdoor key. He let himself into the house and returned with a patchwork quilt and two cans of cola.

  Lanie followed him around the pond, their only light a pale moon and thousands of glittering stars. When they came to a small clearing on a gentle slope overlooking the pond, Lanie helped him spread the blanket on the ground.

  “When I was ten,” Reece said as he settled himself down and popped the top on his soda, “it was too much trouble to sneak a blanket out the window. So, every time Mom did the laundry, she fussed at me for getting grass stains on my skivvies.”

  Lanie sat down beside him and studied the strong line of his throat as he tipped his head back and took a swig of his drink.

  “And Dad always told her to ‘quit harping on the kid.’” Reece grinned in remembrance. “I think he knew.”

  Lanie smiled, warming in the knowledge that he was again sharing a part of his past with her. It almost compensated for not having known him those many years ago. But then, out of the blue, that gut-gnawing feeling came back. A vision of Reece and Jennifer in this very spot—probably kissing or whatever—pushed its way into her mind.

  “Have you brought many girls here?” She regretted the question as soon as it came out of her mouth.

  Reece appeared unbothered by her nosiness. “Lots,” he said, leaning back on both elbows so he could study the night sky.

  Lanie’s soda turned to concrete in the pit of her stomach.

  “Whenever my cousins visited, we had a picnic right here. And a couple of times, when I babysat the Vickery twins, I brought them here and taught them how to fish.”

  The concrete melted a little. But Lanie had to know for sure. “Did you ever bring any girlfriends to this spot?”

  Reece rolled onto his side, one knee raised and his right hand bracing himself on the quilt. His posture reminded her of the time he had removed her splinters and then made himself comfortable on her bed. She tried to push the memory from her mind, because that was the night he’d kissed her for the first time. If she started dwelling on such thoughts now, she’d lose what remained of her rationality.

  No, there was no need in complicating matters by thinking with her glands. Unfortunately, it was probably too late.

  “No. During the day, this little clearing was a great spot to fish or build forts with my friends. It’s kind of strange, but at night, it seemed like a totally different place. This was where I came to do my thinking. And dreaming. I didn’t want to share that with anyone.”

  “Not even Jennifer?” Lanie sat up a little straighter, aware of how ridiculously prim she must look but unable to relax.

  “Not even Jennifer.” Reece grew quiet.

  Lanie shouldn’t have asked him such a personal question. She was about to apologize when he spoke again. His voice was warm and husky.

  “Given half a chance I would’ve married Jennifer.”

  Lanie didn’t want to hear this. But she’d asked for it, so she would listen politely. And try not to cry. She twisted the metal tab on her drink can.

  “My best friend was dating her at the time,” he continued. “Looking back, I think it’s probably the best thing Stevie ever did for me.” Reece picked a blade of grass off the quilt and idly grazed it over Lanie’s bare knee.

  “Why do you say that?” she asked. Why must her voice suddenly come out so strained?

  “He kept me from making the biggest mistake of my life.”

  “I liked her. And I was surprised you didn’t want to go out with her. You seemed so right for each other.” Why was she saying this stuff? Whose side was she on?

  Her own, she reminded herself. For once, the rational portion of her brain was ruling. And, for once, she must encourage it.

  “Fifteen years ago, I would’ve thought the same thing. Hell, ten weeks ago, I would’ve thought so.” Reece sat up so his face was level with hers. “But today I realized I don’t want her. Or anyone like her.”

  With the crook of his finger, he lifted her chin, forcing her to look at him. Forcing her to face a truth that she wasn’t prepared to hear.

  “I want someone who turns a boring day into an adventure, just by being there. I want someone who follows her heart instead of her head. I want you, Lanie.” Reece moved closer, his knees touching the side of her thigh. “Deep down, I knew I wanted you the day you came busting into my house, demanding a gravy strainer.”

  “I still feel stupid about that,” she apologized.

  “You shouldn’t,” Reece insisted. “It’s a perfect example of who you are. You’re funny and caring, and you fly by the seat of your pants. But in spite of all that, you’re also one of the most organized people I know. You’re a complete contradiction, and that’s what I love about you.” Reece caught her hand in his. “That’s why I love you.”

  Concrete butterflies clanked against the sides of Lanie’s stomach. Reece was supposed to be the clearheaded one. Couldn’t he see the mistake he was making?

  “Reece, I—I don’t know what to say.”

  “Just say you love me, too.”

  “Reece, you’re so reliable … and I … well, as you said, I fly by the seat of my pants. You’ve got to admit, we don’t exactly make a matched pair.”

  Reece laughed softly and made matters worse when he moved behind her to cradle her between his legs. His chin resting on her shoulder, he nuzzled her neck. Lanie was secretly grateful he couldn’t see the tears forming in her eyes.

  “You know,” he said, his voice unusually tender, “in some ways we’re complete opposites. But that’s not so bad. We’ll balance each other out. Who knows—if we get married someday, our kids will grow up to be somewhere in the middle. Normal and well adjusted.” Reece squeezed her, and Lanie resisted the urge to relax back into his arms.

  His declaration of love was a dream come true and a nightmare all rolled into one. She felt like the luckiest girl on earth to be wanted by this solid, rugged country boy. But she also felt like the lowest kind of life form for what she was about to do to him.

  The tree toads chorused, their throaty croaks swelling in volume until they almost drowned out her words with their ruckus. Lanie wondered if any of the voices belonged to the pollywogs she and Reece had saved.

  The can tab popped off beneath her agitated fingers. Lanie dropped it into her now empty container.

  “Reece, you are the sweetest man I’ve ever met.” And I love you with all my heart, her insides screamed, but she dared not utter the words. “I wish I could follow my heart, but I care for you too much to hurt you. That’s why I must listen to my head this once.” Reece had gone back to fidgeting
with the blade of grass. “That’s why we mustn’t get involved.”

  Lanie followed his gaze to the pond. Moonlight rippled on the water, and fish surfaced to feed on night bugs. She looked back at the man who had brought her so much happiness in such a short time.

  Underneath his stoic expression, she could see the little boy aching inside.

  “Damn,” she whispered. “Pardon me.”

  If he was hurting now only half as much as she, then his heart must surely be breaking in two. She hated hurting him like this, but it was better to inflict a little pain now than a lot later.

  Lanie rose to her knees and kissed his cheek. Her lips tingled from the touch of his sandpapery jaw.

  “You deserve somebody better than me.”

  Reece didn’t move as she got up and walked around the pond toward her house.

  16

  Reece left work early on Monday to fulfill his promise to Ed Lowell. Lanie spent the day avoiding Reece, holing up in her office and immersing herself in paperwork.

  At lunchtime she posted a lost-and-found flier at Etta’s Eatery in an effort to find the beagle’s owner, then went home to check on the dog.

  Guiltily, Lanie noticed that Reece got home from working on Ed’s barn long after dark. Not that she was watching for him. It was the truck’s backfiring that drew her attention to his arrival.

  He got it halfway up the driveway when the old clunker popped like gunfire, then shuddered and groaned to a standstill.

  The next morning his truck remained where it had died. Lanie considered asking if he needed a ride to work but drove away when she saw him walking across the road to Dot’s house. He was probably going to borrow her fancy new car again.

  Lanie cursed the circumstances that brought her into daily contact with Reece. They couldn’t go on avoiding each other this way. Sooner or later they’d have to drop their defensiveness and get back to normal.

  Whatever normal happened to be.

  Sighing, she unbuckled Winnie from the seat belt and led her into the store. The horse nosed around as if searching for Barney, and Lanie tried to distract herself by compiling a list of sale items for the newspaper ad.