Sidewalk Flower (6 page)

“Right, um, I’ll just throw on my clothes
and be out in a minute.”
 
He winked and
she could see the flirt hiding behind his blue eyes.

She returned to the dining table and
stood by her chair as Gramma stood by hers at the head.
 
Everything was set in its place.
 
Their plates, the fancy ones with the
periwinkle tube flowers in the center and rimmed in the same nostalgic color,
awaited the serving of food.
  

Lucky came out a minute later, his hair
pulled back in its ponytail, wearing his same dark denim jeans and light blue
western shirt from last night but tucked in this time.
 
Gramma took his hand in hers as he reached
the back of the chair directly across from Trista.
 
When she bowed her head and reached out for
Trista’s hand, it was understood that they would be saying grace.
 
Trista hoped this wasn’t awkward for
Lucky.
 
It wasn’t her favorite activity
in the world.

“Trista Jeane, why don’t you lead us,
dear?” suggested Gramma.

“Yes, ma’am.”
 
Her hands fisted before her fingertips
extended to maintain hold with Lucky’s.
 
The table was fair-sized but her wingspan was not.
 
She gathered her short thoughts and
reluctantly, began. “Thank you for this food we are about to eat and for the
time we are able to spend together.
 
Thank you.”

Finished with grace, she lifted her head
from its uncomfortable bow.
 
Lucky
followed suit but they had to wait while Gramma, her eyes still closed and grip
still tight, finished silently praying for a few seconds longer.
 
Trista imagined she was probably asking
forgiveness for her granddaughter’s curt nature and the omission of the
traditional “Amen.”
 
That thought was
solidified when Gramma soon opened her eyes and uttered, “In Jesus name,
Amen.”
 

Without another word, Gramma smiled and
patted Lucky’s hand that rested near hers.
 
“Let’s eat, kids.”

“Yes, ma’am.”
 
Lucky’s hearty enthusiasm for consuming
multiple servings of what was laid out in front of him made Gramma laugh while
her eyes sparkled.
 
And the sun was
nowhere near setting yet.
 
Trista smiled
as she watched them eat, unable to deny the value of the golden boy at the
table.

The sun had now set over the trailer park
and once again, the familiar dark of night called her outside.
 

Long, tall Tennessee walked to the tree
she leaned against and shuffled his boot over a patch of moss.
 
“Hey, don’t worry about earlier today.”

If he said so.
 
Shirt shopping had been…interesting.
 
She’d insisted on accompanying him into the
dressing rooms, same as she did with Jaxon and the guys every time they
prepared for a new tour and needed new custom designed outfits.
 
Always armed with her tape measure, she’d
wanted to be sure and
get
him a perfect fit.
 
How many times had she measured Sin Pointe’s
bare chests, necks, arms, and waists?
 
Her only thoughts being on tailoring.
 
Yeah, no.
 
She couldn’t measure Lucky, ever again.
 
Last night she’d kissed him in an effort to
be the one in control of her confusing feelings where he was concerned.
 
Today she’d held onto his waist, thirty
inches to be exact, for oh, say five minutes straight.
 
Her only thoughts being on
sinning.
 
A lot.
 
And licking her way around those sexy hips of
his,
not defined to the max or lined with veins.
 
They would make like a smooth yet firm hard
candy shell and would taste just as good.
 
The tip of her tongue peeked from the corner of her mouth as she
devoured the completely inappropriate thoughts of her best friend’s
cousin.
 
They should both be
worried.
 
The more she tried to be in
control with him, the more ground she lost.
 
He should be very worried.
 

She couldn’t stand out there with him in
the darkness any longer.
 
If she was
behind the wheel, she’d be back in control.
 

“Hey Lucky, I’m gonna go for a
drive.”
 

“Okay.”
 
He coughed.

“That’s an invitation.”
 
One she probably shouldn’t have made but she
just couldn’t help herself around him.
 
“Are you coming or not?”

He tugged the Jeep door open and climbed
in.
 
A sudden bout of seasonal allergies
gave her the sniffles.
   
Even through
those, she caught a breath of him.
 
“On
second thought, maybe you should get out.
 
Stay here or better yet, you can take the Jeep out for a spin.
 
I’ll go hang out with Gramma.”

The small strip of hairs centered under
his bottom lip poked out as he pulled in on his lip.
 
Most guys she knew with soul patches sported
menacing tattoos and matching attitudes.
 
It impressed her that, so far, Lucky hadn’t fallen into that tired old
cliché.
  
The way he turned so slowly to
face her, giving her time to realize he was going to say something thoughtful,
gave her a moment to let her breath out.
 

“You know, we’re going to be in this Jeep
together for a couple thousand miles.
 
Maybe a test drive right now is a good idea.”

He was right.
 
She rubbed her hands over her face as if
trying to clear his scent from her nose and the vision of his perfectly
tapered, not even an ounce of fat anywhere tanned torso from her eyes.
 
It didn’t work.
 
But he was still right.
 
She had the distraction she so desperately
needed for this trip.
 

“Alright, let’s go,” she said, giving him
the once over.

The drive was quiet but heavy.
 
And not just with warm, kind man smell, but
the fragrance of night-blooming jasmine and magnolia as they rode with the
windows down.
 
Trista had driven a few
miles until she had no choice but to let the words out.
 
“I’m not going to be able to do this with
you, Lucky.”

“I’m sorry, what was that?”
 
He had been watching the passing trees
through her driver-side window when she had glanced over at him.
 
He ran a single finger along her jaw which
made her want to abandon the wheel and offer him her neck, her throat to be
exact, because from there his finger would have an easy, straight path down
through her cleavage to her belly button.
 
All of which tingled and clenched at the feel of his one finger, still
only tracing her jaw.
 
How many more
thoughts could she stand of him like this, knowing he was just being nice as a
favor?
 
A few escaping curls tickled the
skin of her neck as she drove them.
 
She
had to keep her eyes on the road but the way he looked at her was proof he
wanted her to pull over just as badly as she wanted to.
 
“What did you say?” he asked again.

“We can’t make this trip together.”

“Sure we can.
 
I’d never disrespect you.
 
You can trust me to be good.”

It sounded so easy for him.
 
Guess he wasn’t battling the same
out-of-nowhere blast of unexpected urge that she was.
 
“Well it’s not you I’m worried about then.
 
Just me.
 
I know I shouldn’t be that kind of girl,
but…I am.
 
Just being
honest here.
 
And
warning you.”
 

Would he pick up on other lower lying
vibes traveling under the bravado of her words?
 
Yes, she could trust him to be good, which made her want to be all the
more bad.
 
She craved hearing his southern
drawl coming from his full soft lips straight into her ears because they were
suckling at her ear lobe and feeling his strong tanned hands stroking her skin
to sizzling instead of turning the volume button.
 
She wanted those unbelievably cool blue eyes
to allow
themselves
to wander around and see more of
her.
 
Her breasts, small as they were,
couldn’t feel any fuller than when she imagined what it would feel like to have
him touch just one.
 
How could they be so
close, in the narrow confines of her Jeep, and Lucky not be thinking the same
things?
 
She chanced a glance down his
long, jean covered legs.
 
His gorgeous,
natural born manliness filled them out so well, tempting her to pull over, but
his lack of response had her wondering until he spoke up.

“You don’t say that to very many people,
do you?”

“What if I do?”
 
She risked another quick look over to him as
the road darkened under a canopy of trees.

“You’re funny, Trista.
 
As much as I can tell you’ve been sizing me
up, I think I’m having an even harder time figuring you out.
 
You sound like you’re almost daring yourself
to do something.”
 
He licked his lips and
then let them settle into the sexiest natural, barely open pout.
   
She could almost taste their sweet,
saltiness again.

She hadn’t expected him to be so
perceptive.
 
He’d just unknowingly forced
her to own it for all it was worth but make a joke so he would have no idea how
accurate he was.
 
“Well, I’m a very daring
person.”
 

“Again, I doubt that very seriously,” he
challenged.

“Let’s not forget that I’m the one who
kissed a complete stranger last night and now I’m driving out in the middle of
nowhere with him.
 
I’d call that daring.”

“But we already established that you
don’t do this with just anyone.”

“We didn’t establish that—but yes, you
are right.”
 
She wasn’t playing with
him.
 
Their banter sounded humorous
enough but she was being honest.

Lucky caught a flyaway ringlet and
nestled it back behind her ear.
 
It
escaped the second he let his finger trace softly down her cheek.
 
“The problem with daring is that it usually
comes along with that little feeling of fear that you get in your gut when
you’re trying to psyche yourself up for something.”
 

Ignoring his wise honesty, she pulled to
her left and led the Jeep across a deserted road and into a gravel parking
area.
 
There was only one other car in
the lot.
 
The neon-lighted marquee for
Sydney’s Toy Box was still lit but the shop itself was dark.
 
She returned to her conversation with Lucky
as they sat there facing each other.

“All the same, I’m just not good like
you.”

“I wish you didn’t feel the need to keep
making that point.”
 
His voice lowered
into a sad baritone, like old blues singers she had heard in smoky bars on the
road with the guys.

Maybe she had misjudged him.
 
Actually, that was pretty obvious on many
accounts.
 

“Trista, I won’t lie, being with you out
here like this, is very tempting.
 
But I
don’t want to be a part of anything that makes you feel even the smallest bit
of fear.
 
And you can deny it all you
want, but I know it’s in there.
 
You
can’t fool me, darlin’.
 
But, you can
trust me.”
 
His look was steely and sure.

“Then kiss me.”
 
She reached her hand to his knee, fighting
the urge to trail it up his thigh.
 
All
those initial thoughts of irritation at his presence were gone.
 

“We should go back,” he said.
 

You will not
cry out here in front of him, Trista Jeane Hart
.
 
He’d hurt her feelings.
 
Not an easy thing to do.
 
“I’m an idiot.
 
I’m sorry.
 
We can head back.”

Lucky stopped her before she was able to
turn the Jeep’s keys in the ignition.
 
“Do you understand how hard it would be for me to just kiss you out
here, alone, in the dark?”