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Authors: Kelley St. John

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BOOK: Good Girls Don't
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Ginny would have, but Bill chose to keep that thought to himself. “I’d say that’s a given.” He didn’t hold back his chuckle. She was
so
Ginny.

Erika laughed too, and he was glad to hear it. He loved the kid and was immensely grateful she’d been okay when he arrived at Savannah. He hadn’t wanted elaboration on what exactly had happened between his niece and Butch, the biker guy, and she hadn’t provided any. She’d simply stated the guy she cared about had been hurt defending her. The
new
guy she cared about, Evan Carter, whom she now wanted to be with at the University of Georgia.

God help him.

Besides, he knew enough about his niece to know she was destined to follow her instincts with a bit too much impulsiveness, something Ginny had been known for too. Hell, Erika had believed she was in love when she decided to spend a week with Butch. Then when he found someone else, she’d been shocked beyond measure.

And hurt. Definitely hurt. Which pierced Bill’s heart. Mainly because he knew Erika’s young heart had been bruised. Thank goodness she already seemed on the fast track to a complete recovery in disposition. Her laughter verified the fact.

And she hadn’t given up on love. That was obvious by the way she was trying to get him back with Lettie. And by the way she was trying to convince him to let her go to the University of Georgia.

God, he was glad she’d gotten away from Butch.
Butch
. The name fit right along with the tattoos on his biceps, chest and throat. Then again, those were the only areas Bill could see, since the ponytailed, skull-earring-wearing, wild-and-woolly Butch hadn’t worn a shirt. Just a black leather studded vest.

And a nipple ring.

Bill tried to remember if he’d seen the back of that vest in the hospital, where the nurses had stitched up the guy’s split mouth. Good for Evan, getting in a decent punch and having a heavy enough high-school ring to leave the guy a permanent reminder of the encounter.

He thought about the big lug in the emergency room. Nope, he hadn’t seen the back of that vest. But he’d bet his next paycheck there was a big, blazing Hell’s Angels emblem embroidered in the center.

“You know, Lettie couldn’t help it. Her job had her helping me lie to you,” Erika said.

“Yeah, she could,” he argued. “When she found out who I was, she could have told me the truth. She knew that I was responsible for you, and she should’ve known that you could’ve been hurt.”

“For the record,” Erika said, and Bill knew what was coming. Braced for it.

“Yeah?”

“I’m eighteen now. I could’ve simply told you I was heading to the beach with Butch, and there wouldn’t have been a thing you could’ve done about it. I didn’t tell you because I knew how you’d react. I knew you’d be upset.”

“If you’re waiting for me to thank you, we’re going to be here awhile.”

She laughed. Laughed! “I’m not. And she’s not either. I didn’t tell you the truth about where I was going because I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you. Evidently, she didn’t tell you the truth because of the same thing. And because she had promised Amy to let me talk to you first. She takes care of Amy; she always has. Amy has never made it any secret about how much Lettie has done for her through the years.” Erika blew out an exasperated breath. “I’m sure she didn’t want to hurt you, but she also had to think about not hurting Amy.”

His chest tightened; thoughts traveled to those lengthy discussions with Lettie in high school. When she vowed to make sure Amy would be okay, would have a “normal” life, in spite of their mother’s distance. They basically raised themselves.

But
they
didn’t. Lettie raised herself
and
Amy. She’d been distraught her senior year over leaving Amy behind while she paved the way for both of them to have a better life. But she did leave, and she did take Amy in after she graduated.

Looking back, Bill knew there was more to her rejection back then. She couldn’t start a relationship with him at that time, and it didn’t totally have to do with ruining the friendship. Lettie had to leave to make a better life for herself, and for Amy.

Was Lettie still feeling guilty for leaving her sister behind while she tried to earn them a better life? Had she taken the job at My Alibi for that reason? To make things better for both of them?

He turned and looked at the phone. Hell, who was he kidding? He’d been waiting for the past two weeks for Lettie to call. Or stop by. E-mail would be better than nothing at all. But that’s what he’d received from her—nothing at all.

And damn if that didn’t bite.

Should he tell Erika the truth? That he’d secretly hoped he meant enough to Lettie Campbell for her to venture past her comfort zone, seek him out and demand that he take her back?

Sure, he’d been madder than hell that night, but he’d had good reason. She’d lied to him. The one trait about her that had hooked him from the beginning—her ability to be honest to a fault—had shattered into a million pieces. And yeah, he didn’t want to talk to her then. Didn’t want to see her again, or so he’d said.

But that time had passed. Now he wanted to see her, hold her, touch her. Take her in his arms and never let her go. Show her she didn’t need to fear hurting him. She could tell him the truth. Always. The same way he’d tell her the truth. Always.

Hell, what was he doing? He’d lied to her too, hadn’t he? Tried to pull off that bad-boy act, and in doing so, he made her think he only wanted her body. Why hadn’t both of them simply told the truth?

“Well?” Erika asked.

“You’re right. I should’ve forgiven her.”

She smiled smugly. “You’re miserable without her.”

“Don’t get so shook up over it.”

“By the way, I’m right about lots of things,” she said, fiddling with the remote. The TV clicked to life, and she pressed the “mute” button.

He shouldn’t ask, but curiosity got the better of him. “Such as?”

“Such as whether I need to move into my own place. At the University of Georgia. I’ve got the orientation information, as well as dorm expenses, meal plans and class schedules in my room. I’ll go get them.”

“I thought we covered this last week,” Bill said, really not wanting to go there again. “You can live here and commute to Georgia Tech.”

“Okay, so I made a mistake when I told you I was living with friends, instead of telling you I was planning to share an apartment with Butch. And I made a mistake hiring My Alibi. And I made a mistake sneaking away to Tybee Island, when you thought I was in Tampa. But dang, I’m wanting to go to college here, and I’m wanting to spend some time with a nice guy.” She held her palms up defensively, but didn’t look apologetic.

“Didn’t you think I’d notice the biker paraphernalia when I came to visit?” he asked, focusing on the one portion of the conversation he hadn’t hashed out completely over the past two weeks.

She shrugged. “I figured Butch would grow on you.”

“Right, like a tumor.”

She snorted. “Anyway, I still want my own place. I’m sorry, but living at home, with my uncle, and trying to blend in college isn’t going to cut it.”

“You should’ve thought of that before your trip to Tybee Island.”

“I didn’t want to go to the University of Georgia before I went to Tybee Island,” she said. “And, like I said, I made a mistake. Everybody does. Don’t tell me you haven’t made your share.” She cocked a brow, and he knew better than to try to snow her on this one.

“Your point?” he asked, knowing she’d make it with fervor.

“You turned out okay, didn’t you?” she asked.

Did he? Best he could tell, the answer to that question would remain unanswered until he talked to Lettie. In person. This was definitely not something he wanted to cover over the phone. If he hadn’t screwed things up completely, then yeah, he’d turned out okay. If he had, well, that was another story.

“I don’t suppose I have to remind you that I’m—” She stopped when he held up a finger.

“Let me guess,” he interrupted. “You’re eighteen and legally an adult.”

“How’d you know?” she said, her dark eyes twinkling with mischief.

Damn, she looked so much like Ginny that sometimes merely looking at her broke his heart. He missed Ginny’s smile. Her laugh. Her hugs. But he still had those things, all of them, through Erika.

As if reading his thoughts, she withdrew Ginny’s letter from her pocket and held it to her chest as she spoke. “Tell you what. I’ll make you a deal.”

Bill decided not to point out she had no room to bargain. Besides, sitting on that sofa, looking like her mom, and holding Ginny’s final letter—gave Erika all the bargaining power she needed. “Go ahead.”

“If I find a decent roommate, someone you approve of, then you’ll let me have my own place.”

“I must have missed something,” he said. “I didn’t hear your part of the deal.”

She grinned. “Shoot, I’ve got the hardest part. I have to find someone you approve of.”

He shouldn’t agree to this, but he really didn’t want to clip her wings totally over one mistake. Even if it was a colossal one. With the name of Butch.

Besides, he didn’t want to encourage a total rebellion, where she’d have to turn her back on him completely to get her way. And something about the gleam in Erika’s eye—that new spark that had appeared magically the moment she technically had achieved adulthood—told him she would get her way.

“All right.”

“Cool!” she squealed, leaping from the couch and wrapping both arms around him. “Well, I’ve gotta go now.”

Had she merely been waiting for the right answer before continuing merrily with her life?

“Where are you going?”

“Going to the late movie with Lindsay. You can call her folks if you want to check up on me.”

“No,” he said, and grinned. “I don’t want to check up on you. I want to trust you.”

“Fancy that, that’s what I want too.” Another hug; then she grabbed her purse and bounded toward the door. “And don’t waste any time working things out with Lettie.”

“I won’t,” he affirmed, “but—”

She halted. “But?”

“But I’m going to do this right.”

She cocked her head, giving him a sweet smile.

“What’s that for?” he asked.

“Mama would’ve loved this.”

He swallowed hard. “Loved what?”

“You, finding the one who makes you complete.”

C
HAPTER
22

L
ettie stepped off the elevator with a smile overpowering her face and more pep in her step than she’d had in weeks. Two weeks, to be exact.

Charlene Frank had practically drooled over Lettie’s designs.

According to Charlene, Lettie’s lingerie would be the next must-have attire for the boudoir. And sold exclusively at faire l’amour.

Best of all, she wanted Lettie to head the production process, handpick the fabrics, oversee the details. Everything. Her career dream was sure enough coming true, her dreams for Amy were coming true, and Lettie couldn’t imagine how her life could be any better.

Her step faltered. Yeah, she could.

Gathering her composure, she inhaled deeply, then blew it out in a thick
whoosh
. Tonight was not the night to dwell on her loss.

Au contraire,
she thought, deciding to use a bit of Charlene’s French. Tonight, she’d focus on her future. A future that would’ve undoubtedly been better with Bill Brannon in the picture, but a future that wasn’t near as dismal as it’d seemed a few hours ago.

Her designs. “Lettie Campbell Originals,” Charlene had called them. Grinning, she fished her key from her purse and prepared to tell Amy the news. She totally expected her sister to be waiting on the other side of the door with a celebration cake. Chocolate, with butter cream icing. Lettie’s favorite.

Ever since they were little, Amy had always relished a reason to celebrate, had loved giving and receiving surprises. And since Amy had spent the past two weeks trying to cheer Lettie up, she wouldn’t miss an opportunity like this.

Lettie pushed the door open and, sure enough, inhaled the sweet scent of butter cream.

Amy would never let her down.

“She loved them!” Lettie exclaimed, sailing into the room on a cloud of pure bliss. “Charlene Frank loved my designs!”

Then she stopped cold and gawked at the three women perched at the kitchen table, apparently playing some sort of board game.

“Amy? Cass?”

All three heads turned. Lettie didn’t address the black-haired stranger on the other side, since she didn’t have a clue who she was.

Amy beamed. “Well, of course, she loved them. Why else would I have baked a cake? Congratulations, sis.” She stood, crossed the room and hugged her sister. “I knew you could do it. I’m so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” she said, bewildered. Stepping toward the other two, Lettie paused to run her forefinger across a swirl of icing at the bottom of the cake. Then she stuck it in her mouth and let the sugary concoction tease her taste buds. “What’s up?”

“I want you to meet someone,” Amy said, indicating the newcomer to the group. She wore a snug red tank and her silky black mane fell like an ebony waterfall around her shoulders. Big dark eyes examined Lettie with interest.

Lettie extended a hand and embraced the girl’s tiny palm. She looked familiar. “Hello, I’m Lettie.”

“Erika Collins,” she said.

Lettie recognized the voice instantly, since Bill’s niece had called her religiously during the past two weeks.

“I’m glad to finally meet you in person,” Erika added.

Lettie blinked. Now she knew why the girl looked so familiar. Erika favored her mother, from what Lettie remembered of Bill’s older sister. And she also favored Bill. “Nice to meet you too.” She looked to Amy and Cassie for guidance. “Is everything okay?”

“More than okay,” Erika answered. “Uncle Bill has finally seen the light.”

“Seen the light?” Lettie asked.

Dare she hope?

“Realized he made a mistake letting you go.”

Dizziness swept through Lettie, and she grabbed the edge of the kitchen counter to keep her head from plopping straight down in the center of her cake. “
Letting
me go?” she managed.

BOOK: Good Girls Don't
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