You and Only You (2 page)

The bell over the door jingled as she walked inside. The owner, Ruby Dye, who everyone called Sister, was already smiling, which prompted Lily to smile back.

“Hey, LilyAnn. How’s it going, honey? Boy, that wind is sharp today, isn’t it?”

Lily nodded as she hung up her jacket. “Yes, it’s getting cold. I sure hate to see winter coming.”

“I kind of like it,” Ruby said. “The short days and long nights give me time to den up with a good book and some popcorn, or watch old movies on the cable channel.”

The last thing Lily needed was more time to eat through the loneliness.

“I guess,” she said, as she sat down at the shampoo station.

As soon as Ruby put the cape around her neck, Lily leaned her head back in the sink and closed her eyes. Getting her long blond hair washed by someone else was pure luxury. When Ruby began scrubbing and massaging Lily’s scalp, the tension in her shoulders began to ease. By the time they were through and she was back in the stylist chair, Lily was two shades shy of having been put into a trance.

Ruby eyed the young woman, watching the way Lily looked everywhere but in the mirror at herself. If only there was a way to get her out of the rut she was in.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully as she combed some styling gel into Lily’s wet hair and then reached for the blow-dryer.

“I don’t suppose you’re interested in a new hairstyle?” Ruby asked.

Lily frowned. “I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

“No matter. One of these days we’ll figure something out,” Ruby said.

Her thumb was on the Power button when they all heard the sound of a hot rod passing by. Whatever the driver had done to that engine, it rumbled like a stereo with the bass set on high.

Lily’s eyes widened. It had to be the driver with the truck like Randy Joe’s. She swiveled her chair around so fast to get a look that Ruby got the round brush tangled up in her hair.

“I’m sorry. Did that pull?” Ruby asked, as she began trying to unwind it.

Lily was oblivious. “No, no, it didn’t hurt,” she muttered, still craning her neck to see the driver.

And then to everyone’s surprise, the truck pulled up to the curb in front of the salon and parked, the driver racking the pipes one last time before killing the engine.

Vesta and Vera Conklin, the twin fortysomething hairstylists, had been eating their lunch in the break room and came out to see what the noise was all about.

Mabel Jean Doolittle was the manicurist, a little blond with a scar on her forehead from having gone through the windshield of her boyfriend’s car. She called it her reminder to never date anyone that stupid again.

She was finishing off a polish for Willa Dean Miller, who ran the local travel agency, and all the women in the shop turned to look as the driver walked in.

He was a thirtysomething hunk in a tight, long-sleeved T-shirt tucked into a pair of fitted Wrangler jeans. He had wide shoulders, long legs, slim hips, and a face bordering on cute rather than handsome, but he was working with what he had just fine.

He immediately swept the dove-gray Stetson from his head, revealing dark wavy hair, and smiled at the room like a star granting an audience to his fans.

Even though Vesta had yet to meet a man worth her time, she wasn’t yet dead and buried. She handed Vera her bowl of salad and scooted toward the counter.

“Welcome to The Curl Up and Dye. Can I help you?” she asked.

“I sure hope so, darlin’. My name is T. J. Lachlan and I’m new in town. I inherited the old Bissler house from my great-uncle Gene and am staying there while I’m fixing it up to sell. I came in to get a haircut and learned the local barber is in the hospital. When I saw your Walk-Ins Welcome sign, I wondered if I might trouble one of you fine ladies for a trim.”

“Sure, I have time,” Vesta said.

Vera glared at her sister, then smirked. “No you don’t, Vesta. Sue Beamon is due any minute.” She set the bowls with their food back in the break room and sauntered to the front of the store and introduced herself.

“Welcome to Blessings, Mr. Lachlan. My name is Vera, and I’d be happy to cut your hair.”

“Y’all can call me T. J., and isn’t this something. Excuse me for saying this, but twins are truly a man’s finest fancy,” he said, and then flashed them both a wide grin.

They didn’t know whether to be insulted or impressed by the sexual inference, and Ruby could see it was about to get out of hand.

“Vesta, there comes Sue, so Vera can pick up the walk-in. Welcome to Blessings, T. J. Take a seat and we’ll get you fixed right up.”

She arched an eyebrow at the twins as a reminder that this was a place of business, then turned Lily’s chair around and the blow-dryer back on. Because LilyAnn’s hair was so long, it always took a while to dry. She began working the round vent brush through the lengths while keeping an eye on the clock. Lily only had a limited amount of time, and Ruby didn’t want to make her late.

It wasn’t until she was about through that she realized Lily was staring at the stranger as if she’d seen a ghost.

Ruby paused. “Hey. Are you okay?” she whispered.

Lily blinked, and when she met Ruby’s gaze in the mirror, her eyes were filled with tears.

“I’m fine, Sister. He just reminded me of someone.” Then she shook her head and looked away.

Ruby’s eyes narrowed. This was the first time she could remember the woman even showing an interest in another man. Even if it was a negative interest, it was better than nothing.

“How about we do something a little different with your hair? Maybe pull the sides away from your face and fasten them up here at the crown…or maybe at the nape of your neck? Hmm? What do you think?”

She pulled the sides back and held them up at the crown to show Lily what she was talking about.

Lily frowned. Pulling her hair away from her face like that only emphasized her double chin.

“I don’t know. I guess,” she muttered.

“Good,” Ruby said. “A little change never hurt anyone.”

With an eye still on the clock, she quickly finished Lily’s new look.

“There you go. Look how pretty you look like this, and just in time to get back to work before Mr. Phillips can complain.”

Lily frowned again. She felt naked—like she’d revealed too much of herself. She didn’t much like it, but it was too late to change it. She slipped into her jacket and grabbed her purse before scuttling toward the front like a crab going sideways across a beach. Her head was down and her shoulders slumped, operating on the theory that if she couldn’t see the hunk, then he couldn’t see her.

“Same time next week,” she said, as she handed Ruby her money and bolted out the door like the place had just caught on fire.

But what had caught fire was LilyAnn’s lust. She hadn’t felt stirrings in her belly like that since the last time she’d seen Randy Joe naked. Only then she’d been just as naked and proud of her body, not like now.

Not once in the last eleven years had she given her changing shape much thought. It had never been an issue to her existence until today. The stranger was hot like Randy Joe and drove a fine fancy truck, just like Randy Joe. And once upon a time he would have looked at LilyAnn and wanted her…just like Randy Joe. But that man sitting in Vera’s styling chair would never give her a second look.

So the question was…what, if anything, was she going to do about this?

She sailed past the fitness center without looking at her reflection and hurried into the pharmacy, anxious to get something else on her mind besides wondering what T. J. Lachlan looked like naked. She’d heard some men looked good in their clothes but not so much without them, and knew it had to do with the size of their stuff. While she wasn’t one to judge a person on looks, she was seriously giving some thought to “what if?”

Her boss, Mr. Phillips, saw her coming in and waved her over.

“Hey, Lily, we just got in a new shipment. As soon as you can, come back to the pharmacy. You can check them against the invoice for me.”

“Sure thing,” she said, and stowed her purse and jacket, then got to work.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, she was exhausted in mind and body. She hadn’t given her life this much thought since the day after Randy Joe’s funeral.

“I’m leaving now,” she said.

“Have a good evening, LilyAnn,” Mitchell said, and waved good-bye.

Lily waved. “You too, Mitchell.”

The air was even colder now than it had been at noon. She pulled the collar of her jacket up around her neck, ducked her head into the wind, and started home. Even though it was only ten blocks from here, she was wishing she’d driven.

She was almost at the corner when someone honked, then shouted out her name.

“Hey, LilyAnn!”

She paused. It was Mike, her next-door neighbor, who’d braked out on the street.

“Want a ride, honey?”

She nodded and ran out into the street, circled the back end of his car, and got in.

“Thanks. It sure got cold today, didn’t it?”

Mike Dalton nodded, but he was eyeing her new hairstyle.

“I like your hair pulled back like that.”

She blinked. “Oh, thanks. I’d forgotten all about it. It was Sister Dye’s idea.”

“Well, it was a good one,” Mike said. “Were you busy today?”

“Yes, were you?”

He nodded. “Yeah, when it gets closer to the holidays, people always come in more often. I guess they want to lose a little extra because of the holiday food and parties.”

“Right,” Lily muttered, and pulled her jacket a little closer around her stomach.

Mike sighed as he accelerated. He wanted to grab LilyAnn and shake her. She talked to him, but she never looked at him. How could one woman be so oblivious? He’d loved her since the tenth grade and every day of his life since, but she’d never seen him like that.

When Randy Joe Bentonfield finally got to first base with her in high school, every boy knew it just from the smirk he wore the next day. And when Randy Joe finally hit a home run, Mike seriously considered beating the hell out of him just to wipe that smile off his face. As it turned out, he didn’t have to. An IED in a foreign land wiped Randy Joe straight off the earth. Back then, Mike was sorry as he could be that Randy Joe was dead, but he wasn’t going to lie and say he wasn’t sorry she was free again.

Only it had done him no good. He’d spent the last eleven years living next door to the woman of his heart, hoping one day she would really look at him and knowing if she did, he wouldn’t have to say a thing. It would be impossible for her to miss the love on his face.

He stopped for a red light.

“Are you doing anything special tonight?”

She glanced at Mike. “No, are you?”

“It’s all-you-can-eat shrimp night at Granny’s Country Kitchen. I don’t have any leftovers. Wanna go eat with me?”

She shrugged. “I guess. But I need to shower and change clothes first.”

“Me too,” Mike said. He would have loved a little more enthusiasm, but he’d take what he could get. “Wear something warm, for sure.”

“Yeah, for sure,” she muttered, and then saw Willa Dean waving at them as she locked up the travel agency for the night. She smiled and waved back.

“Ever want to travel?” Mike asked.

“Hmm? What? Oh, I don’t know. Once I thought I would like to see Jamaica, but I never thought much about it since.”

“Your mom is in Florida. Why don’t you ever go see her?”

LilyAnn shrugged. “I don’t much like her husband, and he doesn’t much like me.”

Mike frowned. “How do you know he doesn’t like you?”

“Last time they came to visit, he made the comment that I was nothing like my mother. It felt like a dig.”

Mike’s face flushed a dark, angry red. “You never said anything before.”

“So? What could you do about it?”

“I could have punched his damn face,” Mike muttered.

Lily gasped. “Well, of course you could not. That’s Mama’s husband.”

“Yes, and you’re her daughter, and he owes you some respect.”

She sighed. “I know, but don’t ever say anything to her, okay? She’s happy. I don’t want to spoil that.”

The light turned green.

Mike drove through the intersection, still fuming. By the time they got home, it had started to rain.

“Yucky weather,” Mike said. “Are you still okay with going out?”

“Sure. I won’t melt.”

He laughed. “You’re the best. You’ve got an hour to make yourself gorgeous, and then I’ll be knocking on your door, okay?”

She rolled her eyes as she opened the car door. “It would take longer than an hour to make that happen.”

Mike grabbed her by the wrist, stopping her exit. “Don’t talk like that, okay?”

She frowned. “Like what?”

“Like putting yourself down. You’re beautiful, LilyAnn.”

“Not anymore,” she said. “I’ll be ready when you are.”

She got out and ran toward the house. As soon as she unlocked the door, she waved and went inside.

Mike just sat there. What the hell kind of a spell had Randy Joe put on her that she’d willingly died with him? What was it going to take to dig her out of that grave?

He backed up, pulled into his own driveway, and got out. The cold rain was a slap-in-the-face wake-up call to run, but he didn’t. He was so pissed at her and at himself for being such a hopeless romantic. He needed to cool off, and this was as good a way as any.

He thought about putting up a sign in his front yard to get her attention but was afraid it would be ill-received. There wasn’t anything wrong with a gentle nudge, but he was afraid that an “I love LilyAnn” sign would be more like a slap in the face, and he wouldn’t risk rejection.

Whatever.

He stomped into his house, shedding clothes as he went. By the time he got to the bathroom, he was carrying an armload of wet clothes and was naked as the day he’d been born. He caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror and stopped for a judgmental scan, ticking off the pros and cons.

Good six-pack, check.

Lean muscle mass, firm body, check. Brown hair, but in need of a haircut, check.

Green eyes, still in pissed-off mode, check.

And then there was his face.