Read Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) Online

Authors: Shannon Leigh

Tags: #preservationist, #cowboy, #reunited lovers, #small town, #romance, #architect, #Contemporary Romance, #Texas

Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select) (20 page)

BOOK: Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select)
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Lesson Number Twenty-Three

Do not get wrapped up in expectations. They can sabotage a marriage.

Chapter Twenty-Five

L
ila settled in the hammock swinging gently between two pecan trees in her granny’s backyard. The shade blocked the brunt of the late summer sun’s intensity. She opened Prudence’s journal.

Most of my customers from outside the Acre have stopped visiting. At first, I only noticed fewer visits and callers coming later in the night. Then, those infrequent visits trickled down to the regulars here inside the boundaries of the Acre. And now, with the pressure on from the mayor and the sheriff who have allied against sin, even the Acre regulars don’t have the money to spend with my girls. Which means I don’t have money.

Thank goodness I have saved for such an occurrence, but my savings is small. While it will keep me and mine in food for some time, it will not last forever.

Out on the street, I see evidence of the city’s new push to make me leave town. Police patrols in the Acre are more frequent and they are arresting or fining people regularly. It is intimidation, is what it is. Trying to make me and all the other unwanted (but valuable taxpayers) down on this end of town submit to a new set of rules.

And what does the mayor want? Protection money. I have never paid it and I will not start. I pay my taxes and fines when assessed and contribute greatly to the charitable missions in the city. More so I daresay than the rich.

I am glad that Luke is not here to witness this struggle. He would end it in a minute. But then where would he be? Disfavored by the rich and elected alike in this city.

No, this is a battle I and the folks in Hell’s Half Acre have to fight. We may not win, but we will fight it with just as much dignity as America’s forefathers did when fighting British taxation and oppression.

J
ake felt like hell. He couldn’t get his mind to shut off. He’d already gone for a run, by himself since he couldn’t find Casler. And had three out of a six-pack of beer to dull the litany of never-ending thoughts in his head on the impending test tomorrow. The alcohol only intensified his mood, which pissed him off more.

And to top it off, the night couldn’t be more beautiful. The temperature had finally relented and a light wind blew down from the north, cooling off things to a very acceptable eighty-two degrees.

He sat on his back porch and listened to the night. Coyotes in the distance howled and a nearby mockingbird sang. He grunted in amusement. Only unmated mockingbirds sang at night.

“Life’s a bitch, sometimes, hey, pal?” he said softly to the bird.

The bird quieted as a car pulled into Jake’s drive. He walked to the end of the porch and looked around the corner of his house. Lila’s cream-colored Lexus sat next to his pickup.

He stood straight and downed his beer. Rubbed his eyes and then his head.

“I’m around back,” he called to her after her heard her ring the bell twice.

The screen door banged closed, and then he heard her feet crunching through gravel as she made her way to the side of the house. She was silhouetted by moonlight as she came through the open back gate, stopping below him at the set of three stairs.

“I wanted to come by and check on you. I know we sort of tabled our discussion earlier, but I ran into John Casler at the gas station and he said you were, ah, in a bad mood or something.”

Maybe he’d rethink this truce between Lila and Casler.

Turncoat.

“I’m fine. Just trying to unwind, you know?”

“Oh.” She had a hand on the rail but seemed hesitant to come up on the porch.

Jake sighed. “Since you’re here, you want a beer, soda, or something?”

“A beer would be nice.”

He made his way into the house and grabbed a pair of cold ones from the fridge. Lila sat in one of the two empty chairs when he stepped back out onto the porch, her legs tightly crossed at the knee and her hands folded in her lap.

She took the beer he offered.

“Thanks for doing such great work on Prudence’s place, Jake. It looks wonderful. And it means a lot to me, despite the fact, you know, that you didn’t want to do it.”

She took a small sip of her beer. And then a bigger drink. He watched her lips wrap around the top of the bottle, suck, and then relax as the liquid rolled back and down her throat.

His mouth went dry. He took a drink. “Sure.”

He took another, bigger, longer drink.

She stood and set her beer on the floor. “I have to do this, Jake. I just have to.” Her tone was a little bit desperate and a little bit lost girl.

Before he could ask what she needed to do, he found out. Her arms were around his neck and she pulled his head down, pressing a hard kiss to his mouth.

For about one quarter of a millionth of a second, he contemplated the consequences of kissing his wife, and then he thought, in typical Casler tradition, “Fuck it.”

He grabbed her T-shirt and kissed her right back.

Jesus, she smelled good. Fresh and ripe.

She reeled back. “If you want me to go, I will. I won’t understand it, or like it, but I’ll go if you want. I just had to kiss you. You know, confirm you’re here. Alive.”

Yeah, he knew. Understood.

But she wasn’t going anywhere. He nipped at her throat and felt her shiver and lean into him. “Shut up, Lila.”

“Right.”

She dropped her keys next to her beer with a resounding clang and then a jingle as they settled. The sound echoed and was picked up and imitated by the mockingbird.

Jake grabbed her hips and guided her backward toward the door, all the while making love to her mouth. He didn’t know who was hungrier; sweat had broken out on his brow, but she felt hot, too.

Her small groans spilled into his mouth, muffled by his tongue in hers. The sound had his erection taut and heavy. Ready.

They made it inside and he stood back, watching her take her clothes off. As her shirt flew back and her bra landed over the threshold between the kitchen and the porch, he stretched out a hand and skimmed his fingers over a breast and down her belly.

The groan was out loud now. Goddamn. The sound of her made him pant. She kicked her pants off and hooked her thumbs into the tiny elastic hugging her hips. It was gone in less than two seconds.

She had a beautiful body. Lithe. Tight. Her breasts were round and heavy with upturned nipples. Her waist tiny, but flaring out to curvy hips. His eyes flew to the soft brown hair between her legs.

“I don’t expect anything by this. It’s a release I think we both need,” she said, forcing his gaze back to her face.

He couldn’t convince her to stop talking with words, so he put his tongue back into her mouth. He forced her back until he felt the couch bump the back of her knees. He laid her out and then fell in beside her, pulling her until she was on top and he could feel every delicious inch of her silky flesh.

He kissed her all over. Didn’t miss a spot in the fifteen-minute homage that was part base need and part worship. How had he done without this for ten long years?

He dipped his head between her legs again and rested his cheek against her inner thigh, slowly licking his way between her folds. She arched off the cushions the same moment she grabbed his head.

He held her down, taking up residence between her thighs until her cries told him she was seconds from coming.

“God!
Please
. Hurry. No.
Wait
. Oh, come on!”

Her confusing commands had him laughing for the first time in days. The sex became more about the two of them than it did about release.

Lila lifted her head from the couch pillow, throwing him a look. “This isn’t funny, Jacob Winter. I need you.
Now
.”

She grabbed his arms, pulling him up until his chest met hers. He bypassed any more words or soft kisses and instead shoved her legs apart and drove himself home, sinking down until he was completely buried inside her.

Lila released a sound somewhere between a heavy grunt and long sigh. “Ahhhh. God. Yes.”

She raised her legs, twining them around his back, forcing him deeper still. Which was fine by him. He wanted to be so deep inside her, he lost track of everything but the pleasure.

The muscles in his shoulders and neck strained as Lila arched her back again, rocking into him with a force to equal his thrusts. He felt his orgasm closing in and he wanted to bring Lila with him. He reached down between them and drew a hard pink nipple between his teeth with just enough pain that it drove her straight over the brink.

“Jake!” she screamed before he felt her tight sheath begin to shudder around him. He thrust deeper, sending the couch lurching forward on its round wooden feet, directly into the side table. The lamp rocked forward and with his final surge, it fell off the table and onto the floor, shattering.

And then he, too, slipped over the edge.

He gripped Lila hard, like a drowning man does a life preserver, holding on until he came back to reality and his breathing slowed.

“Your lamp” was the first thing she said after his earth-shattering performance.

“What?”

“The lamp on the end table. I think we broke it.”

And then she started to laugh, and so did he.

Yeah. The sex had rocked his world and apparently his living room. Jake looked at the floor. They’d moved the couch at least a foot. “I don’t know how I’ll explain those gouges in the floor to a buyer if I ever decide to sell.”

Lila laughed again and Jake was struck anew by how much he had missed her in
and out
of his bed.

He smiled, feeling himself stir inside her, grow hard. He was ready to move the couch another foot. Maybe even break the other lamp on the opposite end table.

L
ila slid her shoulders beneath her warm peony-scented bathwater and closed her eyes, holding back the heavy burden of long forestalled resignation. Jake may have sent her into a screaming orgasm tonight—correction, last night, it was now the wee hours of the morning—but he didn’t ask her to stay over. Yeah, so she’d said sex wouldn’t mean anything more than an orgasm, but she lied. Hello! She was trying to win him back.

But nothing,
nothing,
worked.

Sighing, she laid a warm washcloth over her eyes.

No plans equaled no commitment. Jake Winter 101. She knew the drill by heart. She shouldn’t be hurt. This shouldn’t feel like her heart breaking, because she knew from the beginning it would be difficult.

She just didn’t realize it might be impossible.

Throwing the washcloth off in disgust, she grabbed Prudence’s journal from the bath-side stool.

Crap. And she thought her life was hard. Her great-great-grandmother had had the entire town against her at one time.

These last weeks have shown me the absolute and final truth of a lesson I learned long ago. The only person you can change is yourself.

My business is long dead, the customers gone. Several of the girls have returned to families or headed out to find their own peace, either in town or farther west. This is not their war. It is my war. Against corruption, against greed and indecent men who would rather rule single-handedly as opposed to governing democratically.

But in the end, the girls paid the price alongside me. The boredom and the isolation got to many after a while and fighting broke out. Small squabbles became insurmountable and so many left, preferring to risk adventure. It is good, I suppose. My money is nearly spent and the only thing I have to show for it is my resolution.

When the funds are wiped out, I will be forced to sell the house if I want to eat. Or, more likely, I will go down with my ship, like a sea captain. Who wants to buy a bordello in this town? The mayor? I would rather starve.

And so I might.

Lesson Number Twenty-Four —

Surprise him with fresh bed linens. He will appreciate the smell and feel of clean bedsheets and thank you for your hard work.

Chapter Twenty-Six

“J
ake, I’m happy to report there is no recurrent cancer. You’re clear.”

Dr. Rogers gave him the good news as they sat facing each other on a matching pair of rolling doctor’s stools in the examination room. At first he didn’t react. The news had to filter in, past the doubts, past the resignation. And then, he knew.

He was okay. He was free.

Something broke inside him and a wash of cleansing emotion surged through his body, like river water through a weakened dam. Jake knew he’d never be the same again. The years of preparing for a tragedy that never came had taken a toll. He’d lost Lila. He’d lost his joy in life.

But he could start again.

“That news was a long time in coming, Doc.”

“I know. And I really am sorry to put you through the scare, but those initial blood cell numbers were worrisome. I wanted to be sure.”

“Yeah.”

Jake stood, letting the doc know the powwow was over. He pushed his stool back under the counter and faced Rogers.

“So, I guess I’ll see you in a year.”

“Sounds good.”

Jake turned to leave.

“Jake, try to let go of some of the stress. Your mental state can have a great deal of effect on your physical state.”

He frowned at the doc.

“As your physician, I’m prescribing a little more fun and a little less worry. All right?”

Gratitude swelled his heart. For the doc. For his own future. He even considered breaking more furniture with Lila. Maybe a bed this time? He smiled and funny enough, it was genuine. “Sure. You’re the doctor.”

Jake headed past the nurses at the reception desk. Their conversation drifted out to him as he hit the door.

“A supercell’s forming from Fort Worth all the way up here. Weatherman on channel eight said this could be another big one, like back in ninety-seven.”

“Gosh, remember how many tornadoes came out of that thing…?”

Jake headed back to Hannington. He kept replaying the doc’s good news in his head.
No cancer.
And then he replayed his night with Lila.

The two of them had really torn the place up. His living room was worse than a demolition site, but he didn’t feel the least bit bad about it. In fact, he felt optimistic.

If she could take all his bullshit over the last months and weeks and still come back for more, maybe they did have something that couldn’t be killed. And he’d tried. Given it his best shot. He’d lived his life denying any weakness, in fear everyone would see just how scared he truly was. He avoided judgment. He avoided accountability.

But Lila was still in Hannington. Still talking to him. Or not talking, depending on their state of undress.

He smiled. How would he go about a reconciliation? Walk up to her and say, “Hey, I don’t have cancer, so can we make up and have more sex?”

No. That wouldn’t go over well. Even though he had a lot of years of makeup sex to account for.

Okay. How about, “I realized that I never stopped loving you and want to start over”?

Not bad. Might work.

Jake cracked the window on his truck and let in the hot Hill Country air. It smelled of rain. Flipping on his radio, he tuned into the local AM station and waited for a weather report.

Rain would shut down a couple of his job sites. Not that he would mind; it would give him plenty of time to track Lila down and talk to her about his long overdue revelation.

“—weather is pushing up from the Gulf of Mexico and with it comes severe thunderstorms, possibly flash floods, and tornadoes. Tarrant County is under a tornado watch until nine p.m., along with several other counties, including—”

Jake turned the volume down. He needed to call his crews and have them stow the vulnerable supplies and prepare for a gully washer.

But first…

He dialed the number he’d never really forgotten.

“Barbara, how’s the arm?”

“Fine. And don’t try to sweet-talk me, you devil. Where have you been? And why haven’t you been over for dinner?”

He laughed. Thank God some things never changed.

“Working for your granddaughter. Or hasn’t she told you about all the changes she’s demanding on her place downtown?”

“Oh, I know all about it. Who do you think orchestrated the whole thing? But what I want to know right now, Jacob Winter, is why you aren’t taking Lila to the big party tonight in Fort Worth?”

Huh? “What party?”

“That big cattleman’s thingy-whoo. Something about charities. I assumed you were going since Lila was biting at the bit to promote her day spa.”

Jake rolled up the windows, cutting out the background noise. “She never mentioned she wanted to go.”

“Well, seems you’re outta the loop, then, as Lila likes to say. But don’t feel bad”—her voice lost its reproachful tone—“you’re welcome to come on for dinner, if you want. I’m making meat loaf with mashed potatoes and gravy. But Lila’s not here. She’s headed to Fort Worth this afternoon and is staying the night from what I understand. Mark came and got her and they went together.”

She’d gone with Mark. That stung. He didn’t know why it should.
Because he was a dipshit. And years of numbing his pain had had the consequence of also numbing his joy. Jake didn’t recognize joy until it sat square on his face and wiggled.

And Lila with her big, loving eyes and tender heart was his joy. He saw it now.

“No, thank you, Barbara. I’ll take a rain check for a future date. But if you talk to Lila, please tell her to be careful. There’s a big storm blowing in and a tornado watch for Tarrant County. You know how these storms can be.”

Dangerous. And unpredictable. And that’s why he had to check in with Otis and the other foreman to make sure everything got secured for the night.

“Lord! That F5 tornado out in Jarrell a few years back sucked the street pavement right off the ground. Left nothing but barren dirt fields for acres and acres. I had some friends out there. Some retirees. They lost everything ’cept the clothes on their backs. Hope we don’t get one of those.”

No. Not one of the killer tornadoes. Not in Hannington. But then the citizens of Jarrell probably said the same thing right before the spinning monster chewed through the town, killing twenty-seven people.

“I’ll check in with you later. And Barbara, you know what to do if the storm gets risky, right?”

A snort sounded loud and indignant in his ear. “Hell, yes. Sarah and I will hop in the storm cellar.”

He ended the call and dropped his cell phone onto the empty bench seat beside him.

He didn’t know what to worry over first. Putting on a tux or getting down on his knees to beg Lila to take him back.

L
ila sipped her cocktail and stared out the wall of filtered glass windows. A storm approached from the east, throwing downtown Fort Worth into a premature twilight.

Rolls of dark and swollen clouds shadowed the city, dumping buckets of rain on people rushing from work to the dry haven of their cars.

Miserable weather for a party, which suited her fine, because her mood matched.

No word from Jake. It had been fifteen hours since she’d shared the world’s greatest sex with the man and he hadn’t bothered to call. Or drop by.

No more acting like a teenager. She wouldn’t wait another minute by her phone in the hope Jacob Winter would call. No, Lila Gentry had had enough.

Weeks of chasing the man, trying to convince him they could make another go at their marriage, had brought her nothing but heartbreak. And Lila was tired, so very tired of heartbreak. She needed to let go.

Through the thick glass she heard the muffled echo of thunder. Reaching out, she laid her hand on the window and felt the reverberations from the sound. She sniffed loudly and took a deep drink from her Manhattan.

“Crying into your drink is so cliché. How about we laugh instead? At those stupid bastards who lost their case against you?”

Lila tipped her head to the side and stared at Mark. If he weren’t gay, she’d consider falling for him. He was attentive, intelligent, funny, handsome, and built. The top five things women wanted in men.

“That is cause for celebration. Though if I stay in this business, it won’t be the last suit I face.” She sniffed. “And I’m not crying. I think there’s a leak in the ceiling and some rain splashed into my drink.”

“Really?”

She stuck her tongue out at him. Reason number six why Mark made the perfect guy: he could also pull her out of a bad mood and make her laugh.

“Aren’t you supposed to be touting your new day spa? Look at all these women. Potential customers.”

Lila looked around the party. The crowd in the ballroom represented her ideal customers. Upper-class, educated couples with disposable income and a desire for finer things. Customers like this didn’t just want a place to go and relax, they thought they deserved it. Which would be the cornerstone of her marketing campaign. If she ever got around to telling anyone about Miss Pru’s.

Mark was right. She should be mingling and talking—it was the entire reason for attending—but her heart wasn’t in it. Not today.

“Maybe later, after the dinner.” She grimaced at such a lame excuse and Mark saw right through it, too. But he let it go. She hadn’t told him about her night with Jake. He’d graduated from an Ivy League school; he could figure it out without all the graphic details.

“Looks like we just beat the storm.” He nodded to the wind whipping the trees in the park below.

“Yeah, it’s a little bit scary being so high up, surrounded by glass in a storm like this,” she said, chills rippling over her arms.
Where’d her jacket go?

“Well, if we’re stuck up here for a while, at least there’s plenty of booze and fine food. Too bad there’s not a television. We could watch reruns of
Friends
.”

Lila laughed. Leave it to Mark to see the good in any situation. “Actually, I did see a TV in the kitchen earlier. The staff was watching the weather.”

Mark got a mischievous twinkle in his eye. “You did, did you?”

She tipped her chin in the direction of the kitchen.

Mark left without a word and she trailed along behind him.

J
ake tried Lila’s cell phone again. He got her voicemail. Again. He pounded the steering wheel with his fist.

“Lila, it’s Jake. Call me back immediately. I’m worried about you in this weather. If you haven’t already, get someplace safe. Three tornados have touched down on the outskirts of the city. More are expected.”

He jammed his finger on the end button and gripped the phone in his hand, praying for it to ring.

“Shit.” He threw the phone across the bench seat. He felt powerless. Helpless. He should be with her now. Not sitting here on Interstate 35, minutes from downtown, watching the beginnings of debris sail across the highway and into the trees.

He was more scared for Lila’s safety at this moment than any time over the last ten years waiting for cancer to kill him.

Traffic lined up in front of him as far as he could see. The highway had become a parking lot. Apparently, everyone had the same idea: get home before the weather gets any worse. Except Jake wasn’t trying to get home.

“Goddammit!” He pounded the dashboard this time, a resounding crack in the molded plastic rewarding his angry fear.

Visions of her covered in glass and debris ran like a bad eight-millimeter film in his head. If a tornado landed in the middle of the downtown area, it could leave a wide path of destruction. He thought of the supercell in Oklahoma City back in 1999. It spawned numerous funnels, some categorized as F5s. Nearly 40 people were killed with nearly seven hundred injured.

And Lila was out there, in the middle of a forming cell.

L
ila and Mark slipped into the kitchen, making their way between the stainless steel counters lined by busy waitstaff to the television set against the back wall. A couple of chairs sat haphazardly around the color TV, but they remained standing, caught off guard by the news report on the screen.

“—tornado has touched down in downtown Fort Worth near Seventh and Henderson Streets, heading east into the heart of downtown. Citizens are advised to take immediate cover, and stay away from windows and outside doors. Get into a basement or an inside stairwell if possible. Underneath a heavy desk or table. For those people caught on the highway, get to an overpass or some form of cover immediately. Do not try to outrun the tornado.

“I repeat, a tornado has touched down in downtown Fort Worth, heading east —”

Lila looked back over her shoulder to the people in the kitchen. Some had heard the report and appeared stunned, their food trays hovering. Others, who hadn’t heard, went about their job blissfully unaware.

She looked at Mark. “If a tornado has touched down, why haven’t the sirens sounded?”

He opened his mouth, but just then they heard the muted shrill of the sirens outside. They both hurried to the kitchen door along with the staff, swinging it open to find the majority of the partygoers gawking out the window. Every person in the restaurant had a front-row view of the storm only blocks away, courtesy of the four walls of floor-to-ceiling windows.

Lila’s heart fell into her feet. The sun had started to set, but the tornado spun to their west, backlit by strong light. A dark, angry knot of clouds hovered low in the sky with a thick tail plunging down to the meet the city’s skyline.

Everybody watched in slow motion as the funnel advanced on a building and sparks from electrical lines flew into the sky, illuminating the swirling mass of debris.

“That’s gotta be the Dollar America Building,” she heard someone murmur. “It’s not far away, just on the other side of the river.” The crowd watched in silence as a large explosion of light lit the underbelly of the tornado and then disappeared inside the growing mass.

A shout from behind the crowd near the heavy oak doors of the thirty-fifth floor restaurant made heads turn. “Everyone, into the stairwell. Now!” The manager stood holding a door open, waving his arm for everyone to move.

One thousand people in formal wear started scrambling, hurrying away from the windows and into the hallway that led to the elevators and stairs. Dull thuds echoed around the room as debris began to hit the glass.

BOOK: Deconstructing Lila (Entangled Select)
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