Alicia Pace - Simple Gone South

More than once she had to fight for the barest scrap of blanket, either because he’d kicked the covers off or dragged them to his side.

And that sweet, misty awakening had been anything but. During the night, rain and wind moved in, chasing away the magical warm autumn and bringing winter.

It was the best night of her life.

Brantley rolled over and pulled Lucy to him. Her bed did not have the sink effect his did, but it was a fine enough bed on its own and mighty fine with her in it. And what they had just done had been beyond fine of any degree.

“I submit to you, Lucy Mead,” he said, “that the people over at Lou Anne’s only think Tuesday’s lunch special is chicken pot pie. No. The ultimate lunch special is Lucy Mead.”

She laughed and ran her hand up his side, and his heart and stomach turned over, circled around each other, and went back to their original positions. Mercy, this woman put everything she had into making love. And since Saturday night, he’d been the recipient of that effort many times in many places: his bed, her bed, couches, showers, a kitchen counter, and—once—in the elevator of the Brantley Building.

“So,” Lucy said with the tail end of laughter still mixed in, “do you want to set up a food cart and sell me on the street for $7.95? Iced tea and cornbread included.”

That should have been funny, but it was not. He didn’t like that picture worth a damn. In fact, it made him a little mad to even think of anyone else touching her.

He laughed anyway. “You are worth selling. I’ll give you that, but I do not believe I am willing to participate in that. Now.” He ran his finger along her jaw bone. “If we could record that laugh and sell it—well. With only a small portion of the profits, we could feed every third world country, buy a sports team, and rid the world of smallpox.” Educate our children in the finest institutions in the country. He didn’t add that part.

“The world is rid of smallpox.” She got out of bed and began to gather her clothes.

Damn. He’d known this was coming. She had to go do something about some curtains for somebody. She hadn’t been kidding about why she couldn’t go to Georgia with him and Will tomorrow. She was frantically trying to finish her projects by the first of the year. Then she’d be his, all his. They’d work on the Brantley Building all day and make love all night. She would be with him 24/7 and he would be safe from thinking about bad things.

Sunday, Lucy had asked Big Mama if she had any old photographs of the interior of the Brantley Building and Big Mama had produced a big box of pictures that was a jumble of everything that had ever happened to them. Big Mama had laughed and explained how she was “no good at keeping picture albums and Alden’s mother hadn’t been any better.” Lucy had opened the box, ooing and ahing like it was a chest of jewels. They never guessed that the sweating and accelerated heart rate had set in or that he had calmed immediately when he laid his hand on Lucy’s shoulder.

Too bad she hadn’t been there last night when he’d been at his old house and Charles had sent him to the bedroom to get batteries for the TV remote. He’d opened the wrong dresser drawer and found his mother’s jewelry.

And too bad she wasn’t going to Georgia with him and Will—though he didn’t so much need her for his sanity on that trip, as for the pleasure of her company. He would be fine away from Merritt. But if Will—who never really seemed to think anything was quite up to par—said this was a great place, Lucy would love it.

He rose up on his elbow for a better look at her bottom as she bent over to retrieve her shoes. “What about tonight? Please tell me you don’t have to work late. I’ve got a hankering for some catfish from that place out by the lake.”

“I don’t have to work late,” she said. “But I suggest you call your dad for company while you satisfy your hankering. I’m going to Lanie’s for book club.”

“What?” Well, damn! That’s why Harris had called and asked if he wanted to come over and re-watch the Iron Bowl with “the guys.” He’d turned him down—thought he’d be with Lucy. “You just had book club!”

“Simmer down, golden boy.” She gave him a sexy little smile over her shoulder. “I’ll call you when I head back. I’ll keep Eller while you’re gone to Georgia. You can go get her and be waiting here for me when I get back.”

Well, that was something. Not enough, but something. “I cannot believe you are going to go gossip and drink with those women when I’m leaving town tomorrow. You could do that while I’m gone.”

“We’re going to eat too. Don’t forget that,” she said glibly. “And I had those women before I had you.” And she went into the bathroom.

And I’ll have them when you’re gone. It hung in the air. She might as well have said it.

Maybe it was time he told her he wasn’t going anywhere.

When Lucy rang the doorbell of the Avery family farmhouse, Luke’s sister answered.

“Arabelle! I didn’t know you were still here,” Lucy said, surprised but pleased.

“It’s somewhat of a miracle,” she said. “I called in several favors and promised to work New Year’s to get a few extra days. Life in a big city hospital.”

“Very different from Merritt,” Lucy said as she followed Arabelle to the kitchen. “And Africa, I would think.”

“Oh, yes,” Arabelle said vaguely.

Five places had been set at the big round kitchen table. On a Lazy Susan sat four fondue pots of simmering cheese, broth, oil, and chocolate. Lanie was arranging bowls containing chunks of bread, raw meat, vegetables, fruit, and cake around the pots.

“Lanie, look what you have done,” Lucy said. She’d have to be careful tonight. Making a meal on tidbits added up really fast. Brantley didn’t seem to mind the spare flesh on her thighs but it could get so much worse so fast.

“I didn’t do it. Arabelle did,” Lanie said.

“It’s the least I can do after camping out here with you for a week and horning in on your book club.”

“Nonsense,” Lanie said as she walked to the marble topped island and poured three glasses of wine. “I’m just sorry Sheridan and David couldn’t stay as long as they planned. It was fun having two babies in the house.”

“Yes,” Arabelle said tightly and took a sip of her wine.

“I thought you were going to ride out here with Missy and Tolly,” Lanie said to Lucy.

Lucy laughed. “I suppose you thought that because that’s what Missy told you and Missy told you that because that’s what she intended to happen. But she did not check with me before she handed down her orders. I wanted my car.”

Lanie nodded. “I understand. Last time I had to leave early because I was with Missy. If she has another Lulu emergency, you and Tolly can stay.”

Actually, Lucy’s reason for driving herself was right the opposite. She wanted to be able to leave early. And get back to Brantley.

“Uh, yes,” Lucy said.

The bell rang. “And there they are.” Lanie exited the kitchen and a moment later squeals of greeting emitted from down the hall.

Arabelle smiled a controlled little smile and took a sip from her glass. “I envy you all this friendship. Always so happy to see each other,” she said.

“We’re not always this excitable,” Lucy explained. “We haven’t seen Tolly since before Thanksgiving. She was gone for days.”

“Days?” Arabelle cocked an eyebrow.

Lucy would have replied but, by then, the others had entered the kitchen and she and Tolly were hugging and dancing around. “How’s Kirby?” “I saw Nathan on TV!” “Wait until you see what I bought!” “Restaurant turkey—the worst!” flew through the air from four directions.

Days. It felt like forever. How much worse would it be when Brantley had been gone for weeks? Surely by the time it was months, she’d be over it.

“So.” Tolly took a sip of the wine Lanie had handed her and zeroed in on Lucy. “What’s this I hear about you having Thanksgiving at Caroline Brantley’s table?”

And Lucy laughed with delight in spite of herself.

* * *

“Lordy, I am stuffed.” Missy held up the long fork used to skewer the food. “I’ll be having some of those pots. And these forks. They would also make great weapons.” She playfully stabbed at Lanie.

“I can’t believe you’ve never had fondue,” Tolly said. “And I think the forks come with the pot.”

“When would I have had fondue?” Missy asked. “When have I been to Switzerland?”

“I haven’t been to Switzerland,” Lanie said. “And neither has Arabelle. But we’ve had fondue at the Melting Pot in Birmingham. Luke and Arabelle’s daddy loves it. If you weren’t such a snob about chain restaurants you could have had it too.”

“Well, maybe I’ll just start buying my candy at some chain instead of your fine establishment,” Missy shot back.

“That’s different,” Lanie said. And they all laughed.

Lucy reached into her purse and brought out a tiny wrapped package. “Before I forget,” she said handing it to Missy. “Here’s Lulu’s birthday present.” Missy, Harris, Tolly, and the kids were leaving the next day to go to Harris’s grandparents’ for Lulu’s first birthday. “It’s a charm for her bracelet. A little birthday cake with a one on it.”

“Oh, how sweet,” Missy said. “I am so glad you started that bracelet for her. I am the only southern woman on the planet who doesn’t have a charm bracelet and I would not have thought of it.”