Just a Little White Lie(26)

“Wanda Sue, there’s something you need to know.”

Before he could do or say anything else, she was pressed against him.

“Later.” Her lips met his as she locked her arms around his neck.





A Norman Rockwell neighborhood. Southern style. Neat little houses formed a patchwork of color nestled back among crape myrtle and Magnolia trees. Flower beds formed artists’ palettes, meandering along front walks and splashing against foundations. A few willow trees arched gracefully in yards.

Tricycles, bicycles and basketball hoops all told of children growing up in these homes. Music drifted from a few open windows. TVs and radios added their voices.

Lucinda breathed in the perfumed air, felt the rustle of the breeze play through her hair.

Peaceful.

Grounded.

Real.

She’d been so busy, so wrapped up chasing her family’s expectations, society’s expectations, Donald’s expectations, that somewhere along the way she’d completely lost herself.

Well, she was found…and she loved it. Walking down the shady, tree-lined street, she laughed out loud.

Life was suddenly very, very good.

She’d had a reprieve, and by darn, she intended to take advantage of it. And if that included making the most of her week with the sexy, charming, and seductive Jake Parker…well, she was okay with that too.

Hurrying the last little way to Jake’s, she burst through the door. “Hi, honey, I’m home.”

She stopped dead in the doorway. Honey was lip-locked with a gorgeous blonde.

Her wedding day all over again.

This time, though, the pain was more than injured pride. This time, unexpectedly, her heart took the blow.

Jake’s head jerked up. Startled wide green eyes met hers.

As she backed out the door, he bounded across the room and grabbed her arm. “Wait. You don’t understand.”

“Oh, but I do. You forget, Jake. I’ve already done this scene, played it out and, I thought, learned my lesson.”

“No, damn it. This isn’t the same,” he said through clenched teeth.

“Hi.” Honey held out her hand. “I’m Wanda Sue. Jake’s fiancée.”

“No!” Jake shook his head.

Lucinda’s swiveled between the two. “Your fiancée?” she whispered.

Looking from one woman to the other, Jake continued to shake his head.

“But, Jake,” the blonde began.

“Wanda Sue, you and I—” He waved his hand at her. “We’re not—”

“Jake.” Tears welled in her baby blues.

He ran his fingers through his hair again, standing it on end. “See why I ran away?” he said to Lucinda. “Other people want to decide your life for you.”

Wanda Sue stamped one petite, sandaled foot. “You said—”

“No, I never said.”

Lucinda watched the tableau, a strange sense of déjà vu overtaking her. She did understand. For all the differences in their worlds, she and Jake were apparently living parallel lives, dealing with very similar situations.

Well, she couldn’t even handle her own. She sure as heck couldn’t deal with someone else’s.

Time to move on.

Ignoring Jake’s horror-stricken expression and Wanda Sue’s alligator tears, Lucinda executed an end run around them, heading for the bedroom and her duffel bag.

She was scooping the last of her makeup into it when Jake stuck his head inside the bedroom door.

“Get out of here, Jake.”

“Lucy, give me one minute. That’s all.”

Two renegade tears raced down her cheeks, splashed onto her hand.

“Aw, Luce. Don’t cry. Please.” He took a step toward her.

“Don’t come any closer, Jake. I’m warning you.” She stared at the picture of the old hound dog. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Wanda Sue were engaged?”

“Because we aren’t. Never were.”

“You sure about that?”

“Am I—” His mouth dropped open. “I think I’d know if I proposed to somebody.”

She snorted. “Depends.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“If your proposal to her ran along the same lines as the one to me…” She shrugged.

“That wasn’t real, and you know it.”

“Apparently, Wanda Sue didn’t.”

“I never—”

“So you say.” She slid past him into the bathroom, the door lock snicking behind her.





Chapter Nine




Patience wasn’t Jake’s strongest suit.

He needed to do something. Find a diversion. Sitting around the house was driving him nuts. He felt like a caged animal prowling the perimeter of its enclosure. And he was hungry. As good as Birdie’s cinnamon roll had tasted, it was long gone.