Page 18 of Heart of Dixie
Mitch reached up to tip the bill of his uniform cap. “My respects, Miss Dixie. George was regarded in Kissing Creek. If there’s anything you need around here, all you need to do is holler.”
My forehead tightened as my eyebrows drew together. Surely I misunderstood. I was becoming accustomed to the bizarre concept of people referring to my dad by his given name, butregarded? Certainly Mitch only meant to offer support after my loss.
“Thank you?”
With a silent nod, he shouldered his way through the plate glass door. I let my eyes follow him as he headed straight for the tall, gorgeous,familiarman waiting at the cashier counter.Deke.
My heart dropped. Could I not catch a break?It hit below the belt to avoid him after I agreed to spend the next few days with him. And I used Beth as an excuse to ditch him tonight, to keep my hands and other needy parts of my anatomy from latching on—to hisanatomy—and never letting go. I made a quick sweep of the area. I needed a place to duck into.
That quaint bookstore was just down the street. It seemed just the place to hide . . . er, kill a little time until the coast was clear. If I got there quickly enough, I could avoid Deke altogether. Because right now the night was looming long, and he looked really good standing in the hardware store with his soft cotton T-shirt stretched over what I knew were warm, smooth pecs.
Chin tucked to my chest, I lowered my sunglasses to cover my eyes and scuttled past the few pedestrians moving toward me. Jaywalking to cross the street, I scurried down the block. The barrels of colorful blossoms out front combined with the lightpost baskets dripping bright flowers streetside gave the impression of entering a small, peaceful garden. I climbed the few deep steps leading to the antique wooden entry door, gave the black iron handle a tug, and slipped through the neatly trimmed ivy archway bordering the doorway.
With my sunglasses hanging from my hand, it took a moment to adjust to the dim overhead lighting after the brightness of the sunny afternoon. My heels clicked on thepolished hardwood as I stepped further into the room, away from the window.
“Good afternoon.”
The voice came from the back of the shop, from where a woman I hadn’t noticed when I first walked in was typing at a computer. An enormously pregnant woman. “Good after—”Perfect. Of all the gin joints . . . I had to walk into the one occupied by my high school nemesis. Didn’tanybodyleave Kissing Creek?
I lifted my chin and stepped between a pair of brightly patterned club chairs and closer to where Queen Colleen, Deke’s sister, was seated behind a desk. Head cheerleader—though there were only three—student body President, and tsarina of the bitch squad.I should have chosen to lie low at the dog groomer’s next door.I resisted rubbing my hands down the fabric of my skirt. “Colleen McAllister. I didn’t realize this was your place.” Her eyes lifted from the monitor and followed my vague wave indicating the interior—the neatly labeled racks of hardbacks; the rows upon rows of paperbacks; the children’s section in the far corner.
Her gaze shifted back to look at me. “Nichols. It’s been Colleen Nichols for a few years now. And yes, it’s mine.” The last was said with a sigh and a frown before she tilted her head to the side. “I heard you were back in town for George’s funeral. I’m sorry for your loss.”
Like everyone else I’d happened across since I arrived, she seemed sincere. My brow furrowed even as I nodded my thanks, yet her comment bounced around in my brain along with all the other condolences I’d received. What did everyone know about Cooter that I didn’t? Had he changed so much?
“You know Deke moved on after you dumped him. Surely you didn’t think he’d wait for you?”
“I didn’t come back because of Deke.” She stared as if searching for the truth.
“So, you’re married?”
A stack of a newly released bestsellers was piled nearby. I picked one up to busy my hands. My eyes kept straying out the front wall of wood-framed windows.
“No, not married. Unless you count my job.”
Across the street, Deke casually sauntered along the same sidewalk I pretty much trotted down only minutes ago. He reached the corner and turned to cross the street.
Damn, he was coming our way!Keep walking, keep walking,pleasekeep walking.My silent plea had no effect. A few moments later the bell above the door jingled as the rustic portal opened and his broad shoulders were backlit by the glare of the afternoon sun. I took a step so I was partially hidden and turned my back. He strolled past and into the open floor space, and I turned my head to watch him over my shoulder. “Hey, Coll, where are you? Are you in the back?”
“If you’d put on your glasses, you’d see I’m right here.” Her voice was full of laughter when he nearly crashed into a rolling cart of new stock before he noticed her. “And keep your voice down. I have a . . . customer.”
Busted. But if Colleen was still so protective of her younger brother, why ever did she make sure he knew I was here? I let out a sigh and turned to face them.
Deke glanced over his shoulder and then froze, his eyebrows lowering and clouds passing through his clear caramel-colored irises. “Dixie. I thought you were spending the rest of the day with Beth.” The hurt I’d just witnessed on his face bled through in his voice.
I lifted my hands in a helpless gesture. “Someone was sick so she got called to work.” It sure must be easier for twelve-year-oldgirls to plan a sleepover, because Beth and I were having a hell of a time meshing our schedules.
“You should have called.” His closed expression reminded me of the younger Deke I remembered. He gestured outside, where the lowering sun cast long shadows across the sidewalk fronting his sister’s shop. “We still have plenty of time. Would you reconsider dinner?”
I reshelved the book in my hand and moved between the tall racks, stopping to lean against a wall of thrillers. Deke followed and crowded close when I spoke, but I had no intention of sharing my personal business with Queen Colleen.
His hand reached out to rest on my hip. The flesh beneath his palm was covered only by the cotton of my slim skirt, and suddenly I was warmer than when I was hoofing it down the pavement. “I thought maybe you and I should take a break.”
His eyes flew up from where his thumb moved over me in lazy strokes. “Take a break? We haven’t gotten started yet.” He captured my gaze. Could he intuit my uncertainty? “Three more days, Dixie. You’ll only be here three days.”
It would be torture to have to avoid him the rest of the time I was here.
He lowered his chin and my head fell back. I gave in to temptation and allowed him to rub his firm lips up the sensitive skin of my throat, tickling the soft skin beneath my ear before sucking in my lobe and nipping at it. I let out a little moan that had Deke pulling back and grinning. “I think a break is a really, really bad idea.”
