The Promise of Rainbows (5 page)

She was so professional and cold now, but he knew it was his doing. “Susannah. If you don’t feel like we should work together on my house, it’s okay. I realize…” What the heck was he supposed to say? That they were attracted to each other? That he was too much of a mess to ask her out?

“It’s okay,” she said, fiddling with the purse and satchel she’d retrieved on her way out. “We’ll manage.”

He didn’t want to manage. He wanted to tell her why things were the way they were. Why they had to be. But he couldn’t force the words out.

“Can I still go to church with you?” he asked.

Her rigidity dissolved like water poured out from a canteen in the desert. “Of course. You’re always welcome.”

“Should I meet you…” Did they call it the vestibule? He was fresh out of church words.

She worried her lip. “Why don’t you simply find us inside the church? We sit in the front if one of our family members arrives early enough to save us all seats. If we meet…people might think…”

There was no need to finish the rest of the sentence. He knew what people would think if they showed up together. This way it could look like he was joining his friends. Friends like J.P.

“I don’t have to sit with y’all. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable or cause unwanted speculation.”

This time she did lay a hand on his arm, but only for a moment. Her touch shot up his arm with as much power as a rifle’s kickback.

“My family would be happy to have you sit with us.”

Walking back into church would take some courage, and if he couldn’t sit with someone he knew, he might chicken out. Since it was only Wednesday, he still might. “Wonderful,” he replied, forcing false enthusiasm into his voice. “Which service do you attend?”

“The ten o’clock. It’s Grace Fellowship. On Country Lane Road.”

“I know it.” He nodded, fighting the urge to shift on his feet. Nerves. The kind he’d locked down each time he took the Humvee out for patrol. Or performed for a sold-out arena.

“We’ll see you then,” she said, playing with her purse strap.

“Thanks, Susannah,” he said as she started to walk away.

Turning, she gave him a smile that brought out the dimples in her cheeks. “You’re welcome, Jake.”

He watched her until she’d disappeared from sight in her sporty Audi. Then he sank down onto his front porch steps.

Was he really going back to church?

For a moment, he wondered what he’d do if that failed to cure him as well.

Chapter 4

Shelby McGuiness cruised into the parking lot of Cream and Sugar in her new convertible BMW. Her sister Susannah was standing near her Audi, waiting for her. She waved as she blew by her sister and, braking sharply, swung into a parking space. When she checked her hot pink lipstick in the rearview mirror, she blew herself a kiss. Then she hopped out of the car, slammed the door behind her, and leaned against the frame.

“What do you think of her?” she asked, running her hands along its body. “I’ve named her Pearl.”

“I think you still drive like a bat out of hell, and this convertible is bound to make it worse.” A slow smile stretched across Susannah’s face as she ran her hand over Pearl’s white body. “But I love her. Your Christmas bonus really
must
have been hefty.”

“It was,” she said grandly, buffing her nails on her teal jacket and blowing on them. “My boss loves me.”

Shelby counted her blessings everyday. For the last five years, she’d been the personal accountant for Gail Hardcrew, one of Nashville’s leading entrepreneurs. Gail had inherited the money from her daddy and first husband and used it to create places she’d want to patronize involving her three favorite past times: food, clothes, and personal grooming. Now she owned two restaurants, three fashion boutiques, and four hair salons.

“You make me want to get a convertible,” Susannah said, running her hand along the frame.

“You should,” Shelby said, “but not like mine. We can’t be car twins.”

Her sister snorted as she finally stopped admiring Pearl and pulled her into a hug. “I love you, but not that much.”

“It’s too chilly to pop the top today, but I had it down yesterday. It’s been warm for January.”

“It has,” Susannah agreed as they linked arms and walked to the coffee shop. “I almost brought out the open-toe shoes, but I’m behind on my pedicures.”

Shelby laughed. “What have I told you about trailer-park-trash toes? They’re just not done. Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick wouldn’t go for it.”

Her sister slanted her a glance. Just like she’d expected. Heck, she’d been waiting for this moment ever since Susannah had told her about the scheduling of their first consultation. Nudging her, Shelby gave her a saucy wink. “So…how was Jake yesterday?”

Susannah nudged her back and led the way to an open table in the corner. “You can ask, but I may not answer. He’s a client, Shelby. No more calling him Mr. Sex-On-A-Stick. That stops now.”

Since her pout was her signature, Shelby gave it her all. “Oh, poo. You’re no fun!” Knowing full well that Susannah wouldn’t respond, she plopped down onto an open chair and placed her purse in the adjacent seat. Southern women never put their handbags on the floor.

“Let’s order,” Susannah said, still standing. “You’re going to make me get the drinks, aren’t you?”

“Yep,” she answered with an extra bit of sugar in her voice. “If you’re not spilling on Mr. Sex, then you’re buying.”

“I’m buying,” Susannah said and rummaged through her bag for her wallet before setting it down next to Shelby’s.

“Cappuccino.” Shelby kicked her feet up on Susannah’s chair.

Her sister narrowed her eyes. “Don’t get too comfortable.”

“I won’t, honey,” she drawled.

When Susannah walked off, Shelby almost laughed. Her sister’s chin was in the air, almost as if she were an aloof queen. It suited her as the oldest girl in the family. Susannah had a royal way about her, while Shelby considered herself to be more of a Southern belle.

A paper coffee cup snapped down in front of her.

“Are we really not talking about Jake Lassiter?” Shelby asked Susannah, removing her feet from her sister’s chair.

“We’re really not.” She seated herself grandly.

Sisters could be so annoying sometimes. “But he’s
adorable.
And he likes you. It’s obvious.”

“Shelby, I swear,” Susannah said with an aggrieved sigh. “He hired me to be his decorator. He wouldn’t have done that if he wanted to ask me out.”

Opening three packets of sugar, she dumped the contents into her cup. “I’ve noticed the way he looks at you. I know things.”

“You
don’t.
We’re not talking about this.”

There was an edge in her voice, one Shelby recognized all too well. “But you
thought
he was going to ask you out, right?”

There was no sign of her sister’s usual warmth in her green eyes. “I’m going to take my tea on the road if you’re going to keep this up.”

That wiped the pretend pout off her face. “Susannah. Level with me, and then I won’t bother you about this again. You’re upset, and I hate seeing that.” In truth, she was worried about her sister. She’d seen the way Susannah looked at Jake—it was rare.

“I’m not upset,” her sister said with little conviction.
“Really.
I won’t deny that his place is going to be a big job though.”

“And?”
Sometimes Susannah needed to be prodded like a cow.

“Oh, fine!” she said, setting her tea aside. “He seemed troubled. His home is bare, like Army-barracks bare. I invited him to come to church with all of us to hear Mama this Sunday, and after initially saying no, he agreed.”

Now
that
was interesting. Why would he have said no at first? Maybe he wasn’t a church-going man, in which case he might not be right for Susannah after all.

“I’m glad he’s going,” Shelby said diplomatically.

“This doesn’t mean he’s interested in me. He just needs…I don’t honestly know. He’s lonely and still hurting from his time in the war.”

“And you want to help him.” Then the light bulb went on in Shelby’s head. “Like J.P. helps in his own way by writing songs with Jake. You’re going to do it with your heart and your talent of making a house into a home. Are you finally going to admit you like him that way?”

Susannah took her time brushing her hair over her shoulder.

“You know you can’t hide anything from us, right?”

“I don’t want to admit it,” Susannah said quietly.

“Why not?”

“Because I can’t tell how he feels about me.” She pressed a hand to her forehead. “I didn’t tell you and Sadie because I didn’t want you two to make fun of me.”

Or pressure her. She knew Susannah, who was thirty, had been receiving plenty of pressure from the old biddies at church. Shelby was glad she had a couple of years left before the big three oh—not that people didn’t still comment about her being single. Her usual reply was that she wasn’t even thirty yet. She was going to need a new excuse then.

“I’m sorry we made fun of you,” Shelby said, grabbing her sister’s hand. “In the beginning, we didn’t know you liked him. Now that we know you do, and that you’re unsettled about it, we won’t tease you anymore. I promise.”

Susannah studied her to see if she meant it and then sighed. “Okay. I appreciate it. He reminds me of some of the veterans at church. He’s hurting, Shelby. I mean…he’s sleeping on a mattress on the floor with nothing but white sheets. No dresser. No lamp. It was horr-i-ble. In all my years of decorating people’s houses, I have never seen anything like it. And it’s not like he doesn’t have money.”

Sleeping on the floor? Poor Jake. She never would have guessed he was hurting that much, particularly since he looked so confident on stage. But her focus right now was on Susannah.

She knew that tone.

“It’s not your job to save him, you know.”

“I only invited him to church…”

Everyone knew where that kind of thing led. You didn’t invite a man to church if you didn’t have a glimmer of hope you might save him. It was so
Walk The Line.

“Can we talk about something else, please?” Susannah asked.

Shelby nodded. “So, I like your new dress,” she said, gesturing to her sister’s navy sheath. A brown leather belt cinched her tiny waist. “I wish I could wear something like that, but it would make me look like a hippo wearing a girdle.”

“Oh, hush,” Susannah said with a frown. “I wish I had your curves. I’m like an ironing board.”

“No, you’re not.”

“And you aren’t that curvy,” her sister added to be sweet.

“I know,” she said because it was expected. She did know she wasn’t
horribly
curvy. She just wished her boobs and hips didn’t stick out so far.

Susannah took a sip of her tea, so Shelby decided to change the subject.

“Have you thought about passing on the job with Jake? If it’s going to bother you this much, maybe you should bow out.” Not that her sister would.

“I thought we weren’t talking about this anymore,” Susannah said.

“Just a thought.” She picked up her cappuccino and took a healthy sip.

They fell into silence. Susannah started making faces at the baby at the next table, getting the little one to laugh. Shelby grabbed her phone and checked her voicemail. She knew the infant ruse well. Children always took a shine to Susannah—and vice versa—so playing with them was her favorite and most used delaying tactic. Her sister would answer her when she was ready.

“I can’t say no to him now,” Susannah finally said when the baby went back to trying to steal her mama’s spoon.

“If you could say no, would you?” Shelby pressed, setting her phone aside.

“No.”

“Well, that cinches it. You’ll decorate his house, be his friend, take him to church—and maybe, just maybe, his spirit will mend.”

She didn’t dare give voice to the rest of her thought—that Susannah and Jake might fall in love and give in to their obvious attraction to each other—but it pleased her to imagine it. Since she wasn’t interested in anyone right now, so she had to enjoy life vicariously.

“Be his friend,” her sister mused, wincing when she drank her tea. “It’s cold.”

Shelby rose. “I’ll have them heat it up.”

Her sister looked horrified by the notion.

“You’re such a novice,” she said with a wink. “They’ll offer to make you a new one for free. It’s good business.”

As she took off for the counter, a little girl with pigtails and a pink dress shouted, “Daddy,” and darted across the coffee shop, nearly colliding with Shelby. A well-dressed man beaming a smile as bright as sunshine snatched the girl up off the floor.

The pinch to her heart dredged up something she’d been stewing over for a while now. Should she find out what had happened to her father? No one else in the family seemed to want to know, but she’d never stopped thinking about it. Maybe it was because she barely remembered him. She always found herself wondering what he looked like now and where he was living. Was he even alive? In some of her fantasies, she spun a tale of how he’d died of sorrow at a young age after leaving them.