The Chocolate Garden (Dare River Book 2) (22 page)

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“For what, honey?”

“I’m…not…well, this will sound stupid, but I haven’t really…ah…kissed like that.”

Those blue eyes fired. “Did you like it?”

Blushing madly, she stared at his chest, unable to look at him. “Oh, John Parker.”

His hand rubbed her back, slow and easy, but what she was feeling inside was anything but.

“Well, did you? There’s no need to be embarrassed with me.”

Her hands framed her hot face. “That doesn’t seem to matter.”

He took her hands in his and brought one up to his lips, kissing it gently. “Would it help if I told you it’s like the sky thunders when you kiss me like that?”

Her cheeks must be scarlet red now. “Oh, John Parker.”

“I love it when you say my name like that.”

Was there a shade redder than scarlet? “You shouldn’t say things like that.”

His dimple winked. “Says who? Telling the woman in your arms she’s beautiful and that she arouses you seems like the most natural thing in the world to me.”

That resonated with her, and she realized she was acting like the old Tammy, with her red cheeks and school-marmish bashfulness. This new sensual Tammy unsettled her, but she’d have to befriend it and see what it told her about herself. That made it much easier to confess, “I like it when you kiss me like that too.”

“Good, because I plan to do a whole lot more of it,” he said. “But not this minute. I’ve kept you long enough from the kids.”

His regard for her children made her take to her tiptoes and kiss him again on the cheek. “Thank you for that.”

He took her hand in his, and together, they walked out of the study. “That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you, honey. I’m only here to support you.”

She knew he meant well, but it would be too easy for her to fall back into old habits and let him take care of everything.

And she couldn’t let that happen again.

Chapter 20

Tory had declared they needed a family meal, and even though everyone would likely only push the food around on their plates, preparing the fixings lent an air of normalcy to the overly quiet house. While Tory busily readied ingredients in the outdoor kitchen, John Parker helped Rye with the smoker situated at the far end of the patio.

The kids sat in the sandbox, and Annabelle had Barbie tucked against her side while Rory poured sand out of his shovel over and over like he was hypnotized. He’d asked again about visiting Bandit, but Rye had told him tomorrow before Tammy could answer. While Rye had immediately apologized, her hands had balled into fists at her sides.

John Parker’s frustration over her refusal to let him stay with her and the kids had returned. Why couldn’t she see they were only trying to help?

The woman he’d now kissed twice didn’t look like a woman in the new grip of attraction. She was seated on the sandbox’s timber frame, watching the kids and brushing away an occasional mosquito. Even though it was as hot as Hades outside, everyone was enduring it. They all wanted to help the kids feel safe and happy again in what had been their own slice of country heaven, as Rye called it.

Hampton and Amelia Ann were sitting in the shade in a pair of matching red-cushioned patio chairs. Her short, frayed jean skirt; sleeveless, form-fitting navy top; and red cowboy boots were a stark contrast to Tammy’s navy Capri pants, white shirt, and gold sandals. She’d changed since this morning, apparently not liking the clothes the police had picked out for her.

He’d seen pictures of both women before they’d broken free of their mama, and he knew how far they’d come in escaping her influence.

Especially Tammy.

She still wanted to go further, become more independent, and he wasn’t sure where that left him. A man helped the woman he loved, and she him. Would she mark her territory so starkly that there wouldn’t be any space for him?

Rye elbowed him in the side after loading the mesquite wood chips into the hopper. “You look about as grim as a possum with an upset stomach.”

“Don’t ever use those lyrics in a song,” he tried to joke, but it was difficult to muster any humor when there was a hard ball in his stomach. “Tammy doesn’t want me to stay at the house,” he finally admitted.

His friend swore softly and kicked the smoker. Bullet and Banjo raced over as if they’d been summoned, and he gave them a rough rubdown before they tore off to join Clayton, with whom they’d been playing tug-and-pull with a giant frayed rope. John Parker had brought the dogs back with him earlier at Rye’s request, and the plan was for them to stay. In his down time, Rye had been working on obedience signals with them intently. It was like his friend was preparing his prized dogs to play their own part in protecting the house while he was on tour.

“Let me talk to her,” Rye said with a scowl.

“I’m not sure it will do any good. She’s got a bee in her bonnet about standing on her own two feet.”

“What the hell does she think we’ve been doing since she moved in last year? Smothering her?”

John Parker put his hand on his friend’s shoulder and looked him straight in the eye. “She told me a few weeks ago that she’s planning on renting a house for her and the kids as soon as her business can support it.”

He gave a growl. “Why in the world would she do that? Isn’t this house big enough? Don’t we—”

“Rye, you know she wants to give you and Tory room to have your own family.”

“Shit. We might need to cut more wood,” Rye mumbled.

John Parker took a sip from his longneck, but it was already lukewarm from the heat and humidity. “Let’s join the others. Looks like Clayton’s given up playing with the dogs.”

Rye had invited their friend to stay around since a slew of business issues were coming in by the hour. Most Clayton handled, but Rye had helped with some.

Tory had finished slathering giant slabs of meat with BBQ sauce and was now topping them off with what looked like chili powder. John Parker wished he had the stomach for those ribs, but given the way he was feeling, he was going to choke on a bone.

“Need any help, honey?” Rye asked, kissing her on the back of her neck.

“No, I’m good. Go sit a spell.”

“You’re sounding like a right Southerner,” John Parker observed.

“Hard not to around Rye,” Tory said. “Plus I like some of the sayings down here.”

Since no one was occupying the red-cushioned sofa, Rye and John Parker sat there, joining Clayton, Amelia Ann, and Hampton, who looked comfortably situated in the cluster of matching chairs that fanned out in front of it. Part of him wanted to go over to Tammy, but he’d pressed her pretty hard today, and he didn’t want to overdo it.

“What are y’all talking about?” Rye said unceremoniously.

“Belle retiring after this tour,” Hampton told them.

“Yes, she’s threatening to move to Florida.” Rye playfully shuddered. “Can’t imagine it. She’s lived in Nashville most of her life.”

John Parker was happy Belle was finally getting off the road.

“Well, she’s been on tour for how long now?” Hampton asked

Clayton’s smile softened. “Since before I was born.”

Amelia Ann shot Clayton a look. “So, are you taking over as Rye’s manager if Belle retires, or will you be finding a new job?”

There was vinegar in her voice, and even Rye’s brow rose in surprise.

He shrugged amiably. “That’s Rye’s decision, but I’m hoping he’ll agree with me taking Mama’s place.”

“Can’t think of anyone more qualified,” Rye drawled, “but I’ll still have to check your references.”

They shared an easy laugh, and for a moment, it was like everything was back to normal again.

“Rye,” Tory called out. “The ribs are ready to go on the smoker.”

He elbowed John Parker before standing. “Come on, bubba. You’re on grill duty with me.”

Amelia Ann stood as well. “I’ll help too.”

She and her brother shared a look, and they all went off to the smoker together, Rye holding the cookie sheet with the ribs. John Parker arranged the ribs on the grill, pausing a moment to inhale that earthy mesquite smoke before shutting the lid. When he was through, Amelia Ann handed him a paper towel to wipe his hands.

“What’s on your mind, sugar?” Rye asked his sister, cutting right to the point.

“I want to know exactly what happened,” she demanded. “And don’t coddle me. I see how the kids are. They’re shadows of themselves. What do the police know?”

He was quiet a moment, like he was mulling over what to say. “Okay, honey, if you want to know…”

Rye proceeded to tell her everything, and the way her face turned chalk-white made John Parker want to rip something apart again.

“I’ll stay with them, Rye,” she said once he’d finished.

“No, sugar. You have your life, and Tammy was very plain about wanting to be left alone. I’m not giving up, though—I still want John Parker to stay here. We just need to convince her it’s a good idea.”

“You care about my sister, don’t you?” Amelia Ann asked, giving John Parker her full attention.

“Yes,” he answered. “Very much.”

“I’m glad. She deserves someone nice after Sterling. I’ll talk to her.”

He and his sisters tag-teamed each other all the time, so he didn’t see any harm in it. “Maybe your sister will listen to you.”

“She thinks we’re a bunch of Neanderthals,” Rye muttered.

“Well, you are sometimes, but in this case, it’s just good sense.”

“Exactly!” Rye exclaimed.

John Parker couldn’t agree with them more.

Chapter 21

The enticing scent of grilled meat and BBQ hovered over the dinner table, and just like all of Tory’s heavenly cooking, even in the worst moments, her food called forth an appetite. Tammy couldn’t help herself from biting into the succulent meat with enjoyment.

Tory had a gift with food, one she’d used to gentle Rye, and to comfort the broken Hollins family when they’d all sat down to dinner together nearly a year ago, their relationships in tatters like towels torn up for rags.

The others at the table couldn’t help but respond to the magic in Tory’s food too, groaning and closing their eyes as they took one bite after another. The men passed the massive china blue platters around for seconds. Amelia Ann dished up another heaping of potato salad, and Annabelle and Rory asked if they could have a little more of Tory’s famous baked beans chock full of smoked bacon.

No one said much as they ate, and everything seemed okay for a while. Like nothing was wrong. Like the house hadn’t been invaded in the night.

Tory enlisted everyone to help with the cleanup, likely recognizing that simple chores go a long way toward occupying busy minds. But when the last dish was stowed in the dishwasher, the food’s magic started to wear off. As darkness descended, even all the lights on in the house couldn’t diminish the primal fear Tammy felt in her gut. She could tell the kids, who seemed to be jumping at the slightest noise, felt it too.

How were they supposed to sleep tonight?

The whole group retired to the den, and Rye brought out some board games. Clayton and John Parker, both of whom Tory had asked to stay over, watched from the sidelines while the rest of them played Candy Land with the kids.

Annabelle took the lead at one point, and she clapped her hands in glee when she landed on Gum Drop Mountain, showing a spark of her usual childhood delight. When the game ended with Rory winning, Tammy announced it was time for baths. Rory ignored her and walked over to his uncle, who was returning the game to the bookshelf, Tory at his side.

“Uncle Rye?” He waited until he had his full attention. “I want you to teach me how to shoot a gun.”

Everyone froze, and silence descended like an unwelcome relative. Rory’s serious blue eyes made Tammy want to scoop him up and never put him down.

“Why do you need me to teach you that, son?” Rye said, crouching down to his level.

“I need to protect Mama and Annabelle.”

He’d always been her little champion, and it hurt to see him asking such a question at his tender age. A gun? Dear God.

“Son, it’s a special thing, wanting to protect your mama and sister, but I’m afraid we’ll have to wait for those lessons until you’re older.”

Rory put his hand on his hips, his chin firmed with determination. “I’m serious, Uncle Rye. I’ve thought about it a lot today. I want to be ready if the bad man comes back. He hurt Bandit, so he might hurt Mama and Annabelle too. I can stop him if you teach me.”

Tammy could hardly breathe as she watched Rye pluck her son into his arms. “Ah, son, now look, I’ve hired men to watch the house and keep you and your mama and Annabelle safe. Nothing’s gonna happen. I promise.”

Rory struggled away and stomped his foot, something he’d never done before. “But he could still come back. Annabelle and I talked about it. Uncle Rye, you
have
to teach me!”

Tammy ran over and fell to her knees beside him. “Rory, honey, Mama will take care of you and Annabelle. Do you trust me?”

His eyes locked in on her face. “He’s bigger than you are, Mama, and he hurt Bandit.”

When she tried to rub his arm in comfort, he pushed her away. Oh, how that hurt. “I know, honey, but that’s not going to happen again.”

Her son’s head turned from her as if she hadn’t spoken.

“Mr. McGuiness, do you have a gun?” he asked.

John Parker crossed his arms over his chest, his mouth tight. “Yes, son, I do.”

Rory nodded, his whole body shaking now. “Okay, then we can stay at your house.”

Tammy’s mouth opened in shock. “Honey, no, we’re going to be fine here. Like your uncle said, there will be guards and—”

“No, Mama!” he shouted.

The force of his voice rooted her to the ground.

“We
can’t
stay here. The bad man knows how to find us. If we go to Mr. McGuiness’ house, he won’t know where we are.”

Her son’s logic rendered her mute.

Annabelle joined her brother and took his hand, her lip wobbling. “There are monsters here, Mama,” she whispered. “I want to go to Mr. McGuiness’ house too.” Then she started to cry, and Rory released her hand to wrap an arm around her.