Anything But Sweet (24 page)

“You know, I’ve known you your whole life, and I still can’t make sense of some of
the shit you say.”

“Hell you don’t.” Jack laughed. “When I walked in, there was enough sexual tension
in here to kill a whorehouse cat.”

“Delusional. That’s you.” Reno pointed. “Look it up in the dictionary.”

“So . . . nothing going on?”

“Nope.”

“Cool.” Jack’s broad shoulders lifted. “Then I guess that gives me the green light
to ask her out.”

Tension knotted the back of Reno’s neck. “What is it with you and Jesse wanting to
take that girl out? She’s here for three more weeks. Pretty damned sure she’s not
going to be interested in hooking up with either one of you.”

“Why? Because she’s already hooked up with
you
?”

“Yeah.” A rush of air pushed from his lungs. “Satisfied?”

“Are you?”

Several heartbeats passed before he could answer, then he did so with the truth. “No.”

“She’s no good?”

He shook his head. “Not going to go there with you.”

“I didn’t mean in bed.” The look on Jackson’s face was one of utter disappointment.
“Give me a little credit would you?”

“Sorry.”

“I meant she’s no good for
you
?”

“She’s perfect for me. That’s the problem.”

“How so?” Jackson unscrewed the cap on the soda bottle in his hand and took a drink.

“For starters, like I said a minute ago, in three weeks she’ll say
adios.
”

“And you can’t take another loss,” Jack said bluntly.

The truth more than hurt. It knocked the wind from his lungs. “Nope.”

“Maybe she’ll decide she likes you enough to stay.”

“Not a chance in hell. We’re too different.”

“How so?”

“Do you know who her father is?”

“How would I know that?”

“General Thomas Brooks.”

Jack’s brows shot up his forehead. “United States Marine Lieutenant General Thomas
Brooks?”

Reno nodded.

“Get the fuck out.”

“I’m serious. Do you know what that means?”

“That her father’s a mean-ass son of a bitch?”

“Besides that.”

Jackson took another slug of Pepsi. “Clue me in.”

“Means she’s used to moving around. Frequently. She took a job on a makeover show.
A traveling job. One where she’s never home. And she loves her job. Which means she’s
never
going to be home.”

“And that kind of moving-around-from-place-to-place lifestyle is
not
okay with you.”

“We both want something completely different. She’d never be happy staying in a Podunk
town like Sweet.”

“Have you asked her that?”

“No need.”

“You sure?”

Am I?

If the ache in the center of his chest was any indication, then . . . “Yes.”

“Well, at least you put yourself out there.” Jackson studied him for a moment.

“What?” Reno asked, curious as to the reason behind his brother’s serious contemplation.

“I’m just trying to figure out where we screwed up in life so bad that it just seems
like we’re always going to be on the outside looking in. Why you and I are never going
to have the kind of relationship Mom and Dad had.”

Reno knew his brother referred not only to his loss of Diana but also Jackson’s divorce
from a perfectly wonderful woman. Fiona’s only problem had been that she wasn’t Abby
Morgan—the woman Jackson had been in love with since he’d learned to tie his shoelaces.

“You’re young,” Reno said, even knowing it was a ridiculous statement because
he
was only a few years older. “It’ll happen for you.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m not going to lay money down on either of us.”

Chapter 18

F
orrest Gump had nothing on a box of chocolates when it came to weddings. Each was
as different as the people who stood in front of friends and family and pledged their
love. Charli had been to blowout weddings in Beverly Hills, where the bride and groom
simply selected a wedding planner, wrote out a check, and showed up on the big day.
She’d also been to intimate weddings held on a beach where waves crashed on the shoreline
as the couple recited vows they’d written themselves, then celebrated the night away
under the glow of tiki torches.

The wedding of Aiden Marshall and Paige Walker had been traditional right down to
the very simple wedding bands they’d exchanged.

As the couple stood in the new Victorian gazebo beneath thousands of twinkling fairy
lights, they spoke the same time-honored vows as millions before them. The bride
wore a classic white gown. The groom wore a timeless black tux.

There hadn’t been a dry eye in the entire place.

Including the groom’s.

Charli wasn’t sure she’d ever seen tears spill from a tough soldier’s eyes before.
Especially her father. Even on the day he’d buried his wife.

Aiden had cried.

He’d been secure enough in his masculinity that he could let the entire world know
just how much he loved the woman at his side. In Charli’s eyes, that made him an exceptional
man.

Paige was a lucky, lucky woman.

As the celebration continued, and the dancing began, Charli swiped a piece of cake
and took her plate over to a quiet picnic table. She kicked off her shoes, then sat
back to appreciate all the work her crew had accomplished to make this wedding transpire.

She studied the beautiful craftsmanship on the gazebo, the perfectly laid pavers that
led to multiple areas of the park and created a nice walking path. She breathed deep
the fragrance of the new rose garden and scented blooms. And her ears delighted at
the splashing sounds from the new waterfall. Somehow, they had pulled it all together.
And it was magic.

That she was enjoying it alone? Well, that sucked.

She speared her fork into the fluffy marble cake, pleased that the bride had forgone
fondant for buttercream icing. She adored buttercream. As a habit, she seemed to indulge
in the taste of things that were overly pleasurable. Things—and maybe people too—that
might not always be good for her.

Or her heart.

Her gaze traveled across the lawn toward the gazebo, where the community chatted,
couples danced a waltz, and Reno stood with his brothers.

Stubborn ass.

She hadn’t spoken to him in four days.

During daylight hours, he’d managed to stay inside the hardware store while she’d
remained outside in the park. When she’d gotten home late, his lights had been off.
In the mornings, she’d heard the roar of his truck fly down the gravel road well before
the sun peeked over the hilltops.

They’d missed each other at every turn.

Accidental?

Nope.

She’d decided whatever had crawled up his pant leg and set him off needed to cool
down. So she’d decided two could play at his game—though it was a lonely one. In
just the few short days they’d been together, she’d gotten used to the sound of his
voice. Anticipated his laughter. And basked in the warmth of his arms.

She missed him.

But she also knew that with a man like Reno, you couldn’t push. He had to come at
things on his own, in his own time. She was willing to wait for a little while. But
if he thought he could just pretend like she didn’t exist for very long, well, she
wouldn’t let that happen.

She was the daughter of a Marine general.

She didn’t just let things go.

She went after them with combat skills and stealth reconnaissance.

If all else failed, she wasn’t above resorting to tears.

A sigh slipped from her chest as she dug into the thick buttercream with renewed vigor.
All she needed now was a pint of caramel-chunk ice cream, and she could just drown
her frustration in saturated fat.

She took a bite, and the hairs on the back of her neck tingled. She looked up and
forced the cake down her throat. “You’ve been avoiding me.”

His dark eyes searched her face.

She watched him.

Waited for him to say something.

Anything.

All the while wishing he’d just reach down, pull her up into his arms, and kiss the
living daylights out of her.

“You’re right.”

Yeah. Not really what she wanted to hear.
“Well. You may have excellent Cheshire-cat vanishing skills, but at least you’re
honest.”

Dark eyes guarded, lips flattened together in an impassive slash, his expression was
unreadable. His hands disappeared into the pockets of his dress pants. His shoulders
stiffened beneath his crisp blue shirt. His highly shined boots shifted in the grass.
“You’re upset.”

“Whatever gave you that idea?”

“Your face is all scrunched up.”

“Maybe I’m just tired.”

“I don’t doubt that. You and your team did an incredible job here. And I’m thankful
you gave my friends the wedding they deserved.”

“Thank you.”

He glanced away. When his eyes came back to hers, they were shadowed with unspoken
words. “Can we talk?” His voice was low. Apologetic.

Her heart dropped into the glob of buttercream in her stomach
.

She knew that tone. Had heard it before. Maybe not from him, but she’d been the recipient
of what was about to come often enough that she could almost recite it line for line.

The last thing she wanted to hear was him telling her that being with her had been
a monumental error in judgment. So she had no choice but to beat him to it. Even though
getting the words out might be impossible.

“Look . . .” She prayed the tempo of her heart would slow enough for her to speak
in a rational tone. “You don’t have to explain. I pretty much threw myself at you.
Obviously, I forced you into something you either weren’t interested in or comfortable
with. It doesn’t take a sledgehammer for me to get it that you . . .” She couldn’t
speak the words. “And that’s okay.”
Liar.
“Really. I understand. I’m—”

“Do I look like the kind of man who could be
forced
into anything?” His words came out in a growl.

“Not really.”

“Do I look like the kind of man who’d be with a woman he wasn’t interested in?”

His dark brows pulled together. Eyes churned with turmoil. Hard to say what was going
on in that handsome head. “Ummmm.”

“No,” he answered. “I’m not. I don’t know what you
think
I’m going to say, but why don’t you just give me a chance to say it anyway?”

She pushed away her half-eaten cake and tried to ignore the Mexican Hat Dance going
on in her gut. “Okay.”

“You scare the hell out of me, Charli.” After a moment of silence that drew out like
the evening tide, he folded his strong arms across that magnificent chest. His gaze
pinpointed her until she squirmed and resettled on the picnic bench.

“I look at you, and all I do is want you,” he said. “And not in just a sexual way.
And that makes me start thinking about things I shouldn’t be thinking. Wanting things
I shouldn’t want. You confuse me. And you tempt me until I can’t think straight anymore.
So I had to back off.”

He took a deep breath like he was gearing up for round two.

Charli bit her lip to keep from bursting out with “
I love you
” or something equally as crazy.

“I had to give myself time to think.”

“And what did you conclude?” Wow. She amazed herself at how composed she sounded.

He sat down on the bench beside her, and she scooted over to give him room. He smelled
clean. Like soap, and aftershave, and warm, sexy male. His heat seeped into her, and
they weren’t even touching.

“I don’t know.” He looked away.

When his eyes came back to hers she could not only see the confusion ripping him apart,
she could feel it.

“I’ve been fighting myself for so long, I don’t know how to do anything else. That’s
why the Marines were so good for me. I finally got a chance to fight something else.
I got to fight
for
something for a change.”

Fight for
me,
she wished silently.

“Then the endless shit cycle began. My brother was killed. My father died . . .”

His pause was so heartbreaking Charli wanted to wrap her arms around him and never
let go.

“And when the woman I loved was killed, I thought maybe it was all my fault. Like
somehow they all died because they knew me.” His hands curled into fists. “Like I
was the connecting factor, and they all disappeared from my life because they’d touched
some evil part of me left over from when I’d lived with Angela in that crack house,”
he said, unaware that she even knew the whole story.

“Reno—”

“You’re leaving in a couple of weeks,” he said starkly. “When people leave my life
. . . they don’t come back. Logic tells me it’s better to let you go now. To not get
any closer.”

She laid her hand over the bunched muscles in his forearm. “Sometimes you just have
to take a chance. To live your life and let the shadows disappear.”

“It’s not that easy,” he said, looking directly into her eyes.

She felt the edge of his fear deep in her soul. “I know.” She touched his cheek. “But
you have to believe you deserve to be happy. That’s what everyone wants for you. You
just have to want it yourself.”

He gave her an almost imperceptible nod. Then his hand reached up and covered hers.
“I missed you,” he said.

“I missed you too.”

In the distance, the band kicked into “Somethin’ ’Bout a Truck,” and Charli knew there
was no time better than the present for him to take a step forward. They’d settled
nothing, and fear still ruled his heart. But for the moment, maybe they could just
put a bandage on all that was wrong between them until they figured it out.

“Hey,” she said. “They’re playing our song.”

“We have a song?”

“We do now.” She held out her hand. “Come dance with me, Cowboy.”

His dimples flashed. And then he took her hand and tugged her close. “I think you
might be good for me.”

“That news is so twenty-four seconds ago.” She grinned. “I’ve just been waiting for
you to get a clue.”

“I’m a little slow to come around sometimes,” he said. “I don’t have all the answers.
I won’t make promises. I don’t know what will happen when—”

She pressed her finger to his warm lips. “How about we just take it one day at a time?”

A slow leak of air escaped his lungs. “Now you’re talking.” He leaned in and pressed
his lips to hers.

The kiss was sweet. And Charli refused to concede that she had only a few weeks to
convince the man that they belonged together.

T
he following Wednesday, Charli patted down the potting soil over the bluebonnets embellishing
the new whiskey barrels in front of Sweet Pickens Bar-B-Q. Brushing the dirt from
her palms, she stood back and looked up at the newly power-washed rock exterior,
new corrugated metal awning, revamped sign, and fresh red trim paint.

On the outside, the place gave a big welcome. On the inside, comfortable new booths
and a warm interior invited people to stay. The first improvement they’d made to
the place was to move the huge BBQ pit out in front, where everyone could see the
meat sizzling and the juices dripping. Nothing smelled better than mesquite chips
and hot flames. Charli figured it was a main attraction, so why hide it?

As she had when she’d suggested an old-time soda fountain might be a good addition
for Goody Gum Drops, Charli had come up with a few ideas for Mr. Carlson’s restaurant.

She ducked into the building and found him helping her electrician hang the new chandelier
she’d fashioned from Mason jars. Word had it that in the month of December, Mr. Carlson
took on a distinctive persona. With his thick, snowy beard and round, rosy cheeks,
Charli had no doubt the man would make a fine Santa Claus.

“Do you have a minute, Mr. Carlson?”

From the tall aluminum ladder, he looked down and smiled. “You betcha. Just give me
a second here so Jimmy doesn’t fry his fingertips.”

Charli waited patiently while they hooked up the wires, then instructed her to flip
the switch. Warm amber light reflected off the stainless accent bars she’d used on
the upper walls to make the ceiling look a little like a barbecue grill. She grinned
proudly. “I like it.”

Mr. Carlson climbed down the ladder and came over to stand by her. He looked up and
grinned. “You outdid yourself with this one, young lady.”

“It’s kitschy without being too over-the-top.”

“Customers are going to love it. We decided to start serving drinks in Mason jars
too. Keep the theme going.”

“That sounds great.” She smiled. “I have a few other ideas if you’re interested.”

“How about I make us a cup of coffee, and we sit down over at the bar.”

“I would love that.” While he got busy at the coffeemaker, she slid onto one of the
saddleback stools, feeling only slightly guilty that most of her crew was still putting
in the sweat labor. When Mr. Carlson returned with two steaming mugs, she splashed
in some sugar and took a sip. “Mmmmm. Good.”

“Now, what ideas have you come up with?” he asked, sipping from his own mug.

“Well, to start off with, I’ve eaten your delicious food several times, and—”

“Yes, I thought I saw you in here a few weeks back with Reno Wilder. Looked like you
two were having quite the conversation.”

She laughed. “Mr. Wilder doesn’t take easily to new ideas.”

“Ah. But he’s a man with a good heart. Last year, my Annie took ill and couldn’t put
in the hours at the grill. Reno was the first to step up and help out. Then he talked
those wild brothers of his into taking up the load too.”