Southern Seduction (64 page)

I nodded. “My brother flirts better. Wait that came out wrong.”

He laughed. “It did?”

My face was burning, “No, of course not, we’re not like, I’m not like some redneck who marries her brother or something”

“That’s good,” he said and dropped his towel.

My eyes immediately looked down. I wanted to …

JR snapped his fingers. “Hey, eyes up here.” Damn what a sexy smirk.

I couldn’t meet his eye and instead looked down to the ground engrossed in the cobbled cement there. My entire body was on fire. “If you don’t want people looking maybe you should think about wearing proper swim attire.”

He slipped on his jeans. “Does that go for you too?”

“I’m not nearly as distracting as you are.”

He zipped his fly. His grey eyes on me. “Wait a tick, are
you
flirting with me?”

“If I were you’d know.”

He slipped his t-shirt over his head, “I was gonna say, I’m not sure I’m your type since I’m not your brother.”

I rolled my eyes, “Shut-up.” Without thinking I slapped his chest. Solid muscle. I held my hand there. Our eyes met. He leaned in exploring my body with his eyes. I swear I saw something flash across his eyes. Desire? Want? Was he going to kiss me? Please let him kiss me.

But he didn’t, instead he pulled away. He put on his boots but didn’t tie them, “G’night Maddie.”

He gave me a lingering look then left. I watched him leave. He looked as good going as he did coming.

By nine a.m. I was up and ready. My hair was doing its best “fuck you” this morning. All frizz and standing at end even hairspray couldn’t tame this mess. That’s what I got for going to bed with wet hair. After another ten minutes of brushing I gave up and pulled my hair back and braided it. Then proceeded to dress into a cute navy-blue sundress and bamboo wedges. I looked good, except for a few strands coming loose from my braid.

As I dabbed on mascara I saw her. There in the corner of the mirror staring at me from the bed was mom. Her blond hair was swept up into a french twist with her infamous chopsticks barely holding it in place. Flyaways everywhere. My mom wore sloppy like couture. My eyes went wide at the sight of her smiling.

“Mom what’s taken you so—”

When I turned around to face her she was gone. I looked back to the mirror but she wasn’t there either. Guess it was just wishful thinking. I went back to my mascara. When I finished getting ready I did one more take of the room.

No mom.

I sighed. Gave myself an awkward smile in the mirror before grabbing my Canon and hanging it around my neck. I snapped a photo of my bed. Then another of my bed framed in the mirror. Then I took a selfie before heading downstairs for breakfast.

My dress fluttered with every step. It was a bit dressy for taking pictures on a ranch in, but it made me look good. I was not trying to impress JR, or anything. I totally wasn’t. He didn’t give off an into me vibe. He was a flirt that was for sure, but I’m sure he flirted with all females. No, dressing up had a way of making me feel better.

With the way the last few weeks were tracking I needed a pick me up. I hadn’t even fully wrapped my head around my mother’s death yet. Maybe I never would. Was she really there with me or was it simply me wishing her there?

Nobody was down in the dining room but three covered trays were sitting on the table. Under one was croissants and danishes, under the second was eggs and sausage and under the third was fresh fruit. I debated the eggs but decided on a cheese danish and banana. My stomach couldn’t handle heavy right now. I poured a glass of juice and sat by myself.

Halfway through my danish Margo showed up. “Miss Maddie, I thought you left with Mrs. Shirley to go shopping?”

“Nope,” I said around a mouthful of danish, “didn’t even know Gram liked to shop.”
“Do you have a dress for the Rutherfords’ gala?”

“I’m not going.” I finished my danish and took a sip of apple juice.

“Your father won’t like that.”

“He won’t even notice I’m not there.”

“Miss Maddie it may not seem like it always, but your daddy loves you very much.” Margo shrugged then held out a pot of coffee, “could you use a cup?”

I nodded through a yawn.

Margo pulled a coffee cup from the china cabinet behind the dining table and set it before me. “Late night?”

“I’m just getting used to the time difference.”

Margo smiled. “Even tired, you look lovely today miss Maddie.”

“Thanks.”

Margo worked for my dad for as long as I could remember and she was very observant. “Hey, Margo do you know if my father hired any new hands?”

Not that I was asking about JR or interested in him. I just wanted to know how long he’d been working on the property. He had to be new because I’m positive I’d never seen him before.

Margo handed me a sugar bowl and creamer boat. “Your father hasn’t hired a new hand in years. After the fiasco with George he decided to let a few go, but never replaced them.”

“George?” I racked my brain trying to put a face to the name, but came up empty.

“Miss Maddie is one of the hands giving you
trouble
?”

I didn’t like the way she was staring at me. “No. I was just … ” my face was turning six shades of red I’m sure. I don’t know why I was acting guilty. I didn’t do anything. “It’s, um …” if JR wasn’t supposed to be using the pool I didn’t want to get him in trouble either. “Never mind.”

Margo’s face softened like a light went on or something and she started smiling. “Trust me Miss Maddie everyone around here is far too old for you.”

“What?” my voice reached a new octave, “No! Gross I was just making small talk.” Sheesh. I snapped a picture of Margo making sure to have the flash on. Throw her off as she’d thrown me off.

Margo took the hint. She stopped talking but continued smiling. When she finished topping off the coffee decanter she left me to eat alone. Staring at the empty chairs all around me wasn’t helping the loneliness. I’d finish breakfast outside. I stuffed the banana in a side-pocket on my dress, snapped a picture of the over-the-top-breakfast for one, and headed outside to the stables snapping random pictures as I walked.

My shoes. Snap.

A bird flying off from the juniper bushes, snap.

Nothing was safe from my lens as I made my way down the pebble path to the horse stalls. Horses whinnied and stomped when I approached. There were over twenty stalls in the barn but only about four horses. I snapped a picture of the leather reins and saddles hanging on the wall. Continued past the empty stalls to the first stall with a horse. There a gorgeous brown arabian stuck his head over the stall door and neighed at me. “Hi there handsome,” I said.

He neighed and stomped again, probably wanted a treat. I felt the banana in my pocket, wrong treat for a horse, next time I’d have to grab an apple or some carrots. In a metal basket attached to a pillar by his stall was some alfalfa hay. I grabbed a handful of alfalfa and held it out. The horse was gentle eating the hay from my hand. It tickled. I rubbed the soft fur above his nose. Hay and horse poop filled the air stinging my nose making me sneeze.

“Bless you.”

I looked up, Wesley was walking towards me. “Thanks, never got used to the smell of this place.” Before he could object or get embarrassed I snapped a picture of him.

He held up his hand, “What the hell?”

“Sorry, but people are more cooperative if you just do without asking.”

Wesley took off his hat and ran a hand through his black locks, “If I said that to a girl, I’d get slapped.”

“It’s just a picture.”

He put his hat back on, his eyes slits on his face, “I don’t like pictures.” His voice even deeper if it was possible. He was angry and I was scared.

I wasn’t scared of him, his baby face made even anger look cute, but he was the only person I had to talk to and I didn’t want to lose that. “Sorry,” I said.

“Well, no more. I ain’t cooperating.”

I held up my hand and three fingers, I think that was the proper scout salute. “I promise no more, ever. I’m sorry.”

He studied me a moment, then adjusted his hat, “What is that digital or film?”

“Film of course.”

“All right, then, but no more,” he flipped up the collar of his flannel—white and blue today—“I have enough suitors don’t need anymore.” He sniffed and raised his head indignant.

“I’m sure you do,” I said, “little girls clamor for anyone remotely resembling the Biebs.”

“I don’t look like bees. I’m not even wearing yellow today.”

“Not
bees
, Biebs as in Bieber fever.”

Wesley sounded out the word, “Bieber?” his look of anger was replaced by confusion, “what’s that? A movie? A new breed of horse?”

“No, he’s a singer, does hip hop.”

“Hip hop?”

“You know what, never mind. Teasing isn’t fun when the other person doesn’t get it.”

“I know,” he replied and cracked a smile.

I slapped his arm, “You’re good.”

He polished his hand on his shirt before blowing on his fingers, “I know.” He bumped my shoulder, “So you’re like a photographer?”

“What gave it away?” I sneezed again.

“Bless you.”

“Can you step back?”

“Why?”

I waved my camera in the air, “Promised not to not ask again, remember and I want to take some pictures of handsome here.”

Wesley nodded and stepped out of my line of sight. I snapped several pictures of handsome, which reminded me … “What’s his name?” I continued snapping pictures.

“Her name is Thunder.”

“Thunder? That’s a terrible girl’s name. No wonder my confusion.” I put the camera down and turned to Thunder, “Well, Miss Thunder you’re magnificent.”

Thunder crunched the last of her hay before neighing spittle across my face. Wesley took a broom off the wall next to the reins, opened Thunder’s stall, and started sweeping around the hay.

I found myself entranced watching him. The muscles in Wesley’s upper arms and back flexed with each swoosh of the broom. He’d push the broom back and forth three times, pause, adjust his hat and sweep again. Repeating this pattern over and over. If only I hadn’t promised not to snap anymore pictures of him.

I sneezed. I stepped away from the stall and sneezed again and again.

Wesley handed me a tissue. I sneezed again and then blew my nose. “Agh, gross. Sorry and thanks.” I snapped a picture of my hand holding the tissue. “Hay and horse poop is definitely not a friend.”

“Why are you taking a picture of that?”

“Weird habit I have.”

“Art is subjective I guess. You know you could get some interesting pictures if you head up arrowhead trail near the back of your dad’s property.”

My dad’s property backed up to national forest land, but his forty acres was big enough to keep me occupied that I never wandered over to the trail heads. “Maybe I will.”

With my sneezing under control I went back to snapping pictures of the horses while Wesley went back to sweeping. I tried not to watch him and focus instead on picture taking. Though I managed to catch a boot or hand of his in one or two photos.

Whistling pulled mine and Wesley’s attention to the barn opening where a whistling JR was coming in. Wesley froze, eyes wide. Without warning he slammed Thunder’s stall door closed and hid behind Thunder.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked. I had to stand on my tiptoes in order to see over the stall door to glare at Wesley.

He shook his head, put his finger to his lips and whispered, “Please don’t let him know I’m in here, okay?”

JR stopped whistling, a grin on his lips when he met my eye, “Who are you talking to?”

I looked back at Wesley who was cowering in a corner shaking his head, hands clasped together, “
Please,
” he muttered.

JR was almost to the stall door. Wesley looked downright frightened. I jumped down, “What?”

“Didn’t I hear you talking to someone?” JR asked.

“I, um …” when I turned I got a good look at JR. He was wearing a grey v-neck t-shirt, dark denim jeans and no hat. His hair was an unruly brown mess, the ends curled up around his ears. Flecks of blue were bright in his grey eyes today.
Hot damn!

JR stopped right next to me.
Mmm
, leather, grass and just a hint of jasmine scented the air around him. For a moment I forgot about everything except how good he smelled and how well his shirt fit him, until there was a snapping from Thunder’s stall. Wesley looked utterly scared his eyes wide, pleading.

That’s right
. I pushed away from the stall stepping into JR’s path preventing him from getting any closer to Thunder or her stall door, “Yeah I was just talking to old Thunder here, asking if she minded me taking her picture.”

JR brushed his hair back with a hand trying to step around me, “I could have sworn—”

“Nope you’re just …” I put my hand to his chest to keep him from moving,
wow
, “… hearing things.”

With my hand to his chest I had his full attention. He studied my face, my neck, my breasts before his gaze rested on my hand splayed across his chest. I pretended to pull a stray hair off his shirt, “There, got it.” I pulled my hand away.