Page 21 of Sweet Southern Heat

Honey plopped down next to me on the couch with a drink in her hand and looked at me expectantly. I plucked the other glass from the table and took a sip, coughing at the unexpected burn that ran down my throat. She wasn’t kidding when she said we needed something stronger than wine.

“Okay,” Honey began once I’d composed myself, “start from the beginning. What happened this morning?” Worry filled her eyes as she leaned forward and squeezed my hand.

I drew in a deep breath and released it slowly. Where did I begin?

“When I got to the bakery, the back door was unlocked, so I assumed Landon was already there. I wanted to talk to him since we’d had a conversation the day before that...” My voice trailed off as I searched for the right words to explain what had happened without going into detail. “Left me unsettled,” I finished vaguely. I didn’t want her to know how he’d pressed me against the wall with his hand on my face or how much I’d liked it. I couldn’t tell her that I thought he would kiss me or that I was fully prepared to let him. Shame welled in my chest at the thought. I’d been more than willing to let him touch me despite our history, despite his disdain, all because I couldn’t control my body’s reaction to him.

Honey nodded as if she understood. She had no idea.

“I found him at the front of the shop, standing among the broken glass of my shattered window with a brick at his feet.” Honey sucked in a sharp breath, her eyes widening with surprise. “He’d been angry with me after our conversation, and my mind went to the worst possible scenario.” Guilt washed over me, and I winced, replaying the moment he’d realized I suspected him.

“You accused him, didn’t you,” Honey said, settling her sympathetic gaze on me.

“More or less,” I admitted, my shoulders slumping as I dropped my gaze to my lap. “But that’s not all.”

Honey listened intently as I relayed the entire conversation between Landon and me from this morning, revealing the truth about the night of the accident. Her mouth fell open in surprise before her features twisted with rage.

“That motherfucker,” she growled when I confessed that Lyle had put his hands on me. Her body hummed with barely suppressed rage, and I debated telling her the rest, but it was too late to turn back now. Might as well rip off the band-aid and let the wound bleed. That was the only way it could begin to heal, and I was tired of keeping it all bottled up. Even though we’d been close back then, I never told her what had really happened that night. I never told anyone.

Until Landon.

I continued, my voice shaking as I told her how I finally calmed him down and got him in the car to drive him home. Honey shot to her feet, a string of curses leaving her lips as I recounted the moment Lyle jerked the steering wheel from my hands.

“I’m gonna kill him,” she said matter-of-factly as she paced across my living room. Turning to face me, she planted her hands on her hips and pinned me with her narrowed gaze. “That son of a bitch lied about everything. He turned his family and half the town against you. If I ever catch him out, it’s on sight.” Her fists balled at her sides, and I didn't doubt for a second she meant every word.

Reaching for her glass, she threw back the rest of her drink and took a few deep, calming breaths. She lowered herself onto the edge of the cushion and braced her hands on her knees.

“Okay, tell me the rest.” So I did. I told her everything up to the point when Landon left.

“Oh,” she drew out, one brow lifting in intrigue. A contemplative expression passed over her face, and she straightened in her seat.

“What?” I asked, squirming beneath her scrutiny.

“Nothing,” she said with a wave of her hand, “but I think things are about to change between you and Landon.”

Chapter 21

Olivia

“What can I do to help?”Honey asked for the third time since arriving twenty minutes ago.

“Nothing at all. This isyourparty. You’re the guest of honor. All you need to do is relax, have a drink, and enjoy some good food and even better company,” I instructed as I replaced the lid on the pot of gumbo I’d just finished stirring. It would be done soon, and guests would begin arriving within the hour.

“Now, let’s go get ready while everything finishes cooking,” I said and set a timer to check the ribs in thirty minutes. My makeup was already done, but my hair was still in rollers. So was Honey’s. She came over so we could get ready together, just like when we were teenagers.

“I really appreciate you doing this,” she offered with a soft smile. “I never expected this kind of welcome when I decided to move back home. It means a lot to me.” I reached for her hands and squeezed.

“You deserve the warmest welcome. This town is lucky to have you back.”

“You’re too good to me. But I’m not the only one who deserves to be welcomed home with open arms.” She gave me a knowing look.

“I don’t know about that,” I said, turning away to head to my room. She followed me as we ascended the stairs to the second floor. “Besides, I’m not sure I’m even going to stay.” The events from earlier this week had me rattled. Having my bakery vandalized made me second guess even considering sticking around. Was this what I had to look forward to if I moved home permanently? People throwing bricks through my windows? Would it be worse next time?

“Don’t be silly. The bakery is thriving. Everyone is glad you’re home.”

“Not everyone,” I mumbled under my breath as I began unrolling the curlers from my hair. She tilted her head to the side, studying me, but I refused to meet her gaze. She always saw more than I wanted her to.

“Is this about Landon?” she asked, quirking a brow as a sly grin curved her lips. “Because I think Mr. Broody McBrooderson is finally starting to come around. I realize he’s hated you the past six years, but after he got all protective and shit the other day, I’m more convinced than ever that he wants in your pants.” I scoffed, my face growing warm at her suggestion. “Just imagine how hot the sex would be if you two finally quit pretending like you don’t want to rip each other’s clothes off,” she went on, dramatically fanning herself.

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