The Fixer Upper (22 page)

Jimmy leaned across the table, took my hand, and kissed the palm. “See? Us old farts, we’ve still got a lot to offer a woman. What do you say we skip dessert and go back to my place for some fun?”

I snatched my hand away. When had he turned from endearing charmer to slobbering drunk? Maybe right after his third Knob Creek?

“Jimmy,” I said sweetly, “I do think we should skip dessert. But I’ve had a really long day today, starting with an early morning trip to Macon. So, if you don’t mind, I’d really like to go home now.”

“After I finish my drink, okay?” he said, craning his neck toward the bar to check on the waiter’s progress.

I turned around, hoping that the waiter would not be on his way back to our table, just in time to see another member of the Berryhill law firm walk into the dining room with another gorgeous brunette in tow.

Jimmy saw him at the same time I did. “Hey, Tee!” he called, a little too loudly.

Tee looked around the room to see who was greeting him. When he saw Jimmy, waving madly, he gave a perfunctory smile. Then he saw me, sitting right beside Jimmy, and the smile froze.

“A
wwww, sheee-uut,” Jimmy drawled. “I didn’t see he was with her.”

“Quick, who is that woman?” I demanded. “They’re coming over here!”

“You don’ wanna know,” Jimmy said.

Tee and the brunette approached the table.

“Hey, Jimmy,” the brunette said. She wore a cream-colored business suit, had sapphire-colored eyes, a pointy chin, and full, pouty lips, and in her four-inch spike heels, she towered over Tee by at least an inch. “Who’s your friend?”

“Hey, Shirlene,” Jimmy mumbled, looking away. “This is…uh, Dempsey.”

“Hi, Jimmy, hi, Dempsey,” Tee said. There were two bright pink spots on his cheeks. He shoved his hands in the pockets of his slacks. “So…this is awkward.”

“Ain’t it just,” Jimmy said, jiggling the ice in his empty glass. “Good thing we were just about to leave.”

The brunette grabbed the glass out of his hand and gave it a sniff. “Jimmy Maynard! Have you been drinking bourbon?”

Jimmy slumped backward in his chair and gave her a lazy smile. “Why, yes, ma’am, as a matter of fact I have.”

Shirlene rolled her eyes and gave a huff of exasperation. “Dempsey? Is that your name?”

“Dempsey Killebrew,” I said, holding out my hand.

She took mine and gave it a brief shake. “Shirlene Peppers. Look, Dempsey, did Jimmy drive you over here tonight?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Lorrrrd,” she said. She had both hands on her hips and she looked down at the two of us as though she’d caught us skipping school.

“If you’re gonna sleep with the man, there’s something you need to know. You never give Jimmy Maynard bourbon. He just can’t handle brown liquor. Everybody in town knows that. He can drink wine and beer till the cows come home, and a little vodka at parties, even, but you
do not
give this man whiskey. Understood?”

“Whoa! Time-out. Who said I was sleeping with him? And besides that, I didn’t give him anything,” I protested. “The waiter brought him over a drink before we even sat down.”

The aforesaid waiter had the misfortune to arrive back at the table at that exact moment, with another beaker of poison water for Jimmy Maynard.

“Manny!” Shirlene said, whirling around to face him. “Is this true? Did you serve Mr. Maynard bourbon, even after what happened the last time?”

Manny stared down at his lace-up black shoes. “Yes’m.”

“Lorrrrd,” Shirlene said again, shaking her head with disgust. She looked from me to Jimmy to Tee. “Well? What are you planning to do about this mess?”

Why did I feel like I was the one facing detention—or worse, expulsion? “I was hoping to get out of here without causing a scene,” I said in a low voice. “But I think that’s probably a lost cause now.” When I looked up, a dozen people sitting at the tables around us glanced quickly away—down at their plates, or off into the distance.

Shirlene waved away my concern. “Oh, don’t mind these people. They know how Jimmy gets when he drinks whiskey. So—can you drive home? Because I promise you, he cannot.”

“Uh, no. I never learned to drive a manual transmission.”

She gave another exasperated huff. “I forgot about that damned Jeep of his. Idiotic car for a grown man to drive. Tee? Would you mind? I’ll get Manny to pack us up a couple of to-go boxes. We really can’t let Jimmy loose on the highway.”

“Hey!” Jimmy said. “I resent that remark. I can drive just fine.”

“Shut up!” Tee and Shirlene said in unison. Jimmy put his head down on the table and closed his eyes.

“I’ll drive the Jeep back to my house and he can walk over and get it in the morning, after he sobers up,” Shirlene said. “Tee, can you guys load him into your car and take him home? I really can’t deal with him after he’s been drinking.”

Tee shrugged. It didn’t appear that you gave Shirlene Peppers any guff once she started issuing orders. He put an arm under Jimmy’s shoulder. “Come on, Jimbo. Time to go home.”

It was no easy trick folding a six-foot-two drunk into the front seat of that Prius, but somehow, between us, we managed to wedge him into the passenger seat. I had to go around to the driver’s side to squeeze into the tiny backseat.

Tee drove, the silence broken only by Jimmy’s occasional snore. I could tell from the ramrod set of Tee’s shoulders that he was pissed. Well, I was pissed too, if you wanted to get right down to it.

But I was more worried than pissed, worried that Tee would think Shirlene Peppers was right about my relationship with Jimmy Maynard.

I cleared my throat. “Not that it’s any of your business,” I said finally. “But I am definitely
not
sleeping with Jimmy Maynard.”

“Fine,” he said curtly. “You’re right. It is none of my business. Sleep with whomever you please. But you were having a cozy dinner with him, weren’t you? Funny—every time I ask you out, you’re too tired, or too busy, or too worried about what people think about you.”

“That’s bullshit!” I cried. “I would have gone to dinner with you tonight. Hell, I even asked your
dad
if the two of you could go to dinner to celebrate tonight. He made up some pathetic excuse about you having to cover the county commission, and said
he
had a previous engagement. I guess he did! I saw him earlier with that Veronica Lanier woman. She was all over him, like cheap perfume. And then you march in with your own little cutie-pie. You really should have checked with your dad, Tee, before showing up in a public place with another woman.”

Tee’s head whipped around to look at me. “Dad? You saw him with Veronica? Where was this?”

“Right there at the country club, they left no more than ten minutes before you and
Shirlene
came in,” I said, fuming. “I guess the country club is where the Berryhill men have all their affairs, right?”

“I’ll be damned,” Tee muttered. “I didn’t know Veronica was back in town. He never breathed a word to me, the sly old dog.”

“It’s none of my business,” I went on. “But it seems to me that Shirlene Peppers is just a little bit long in the tooth for you. What is she, fifty or something?”

“She’s the same age as your boyfriend Jimmy here,” Tee shot back.

“He is not my boyfriend!”

“Well, Shirlene’s not my girlfriend. Come on, Dempsey, give me a little credit here. Dad told you the truth. I did have to cover the county commission meeting. That’s where I met up with Shirlene. She’s the county attorney, for God’s sake. I was trying to pump her for details on the search for a new county manager. Shirlene and I went to law school together.”

“Sure you did,” I said coldly. “Only it must have taken Shirlene a good ten years longer than you to get out of law school.”

“You’re impossible,” he said. “It took Shirlene six years to get out of undergraduate school, going nights and working days. It wasn’t until after she divorced Jimmy that she could afford to go to law school.”

“What did you just say? Did you just say Jimmy and Shirlene used to be married?”

“He didn’t mention that?”

“He told me the first or second time we met that he’d been married and divorced several times. I remember he talked about a wife named LaDonna, and yeah, I guess, now that you mention it, he did mention being married to somebody named Shirlene.”

“Yeah, she left him for Wayne Peppers, a gastroenterologist here in town. I think she regretted marrying Wayne about two seconds after they got back from the honeymoon. Unfortunately, Shirlene hired some hack from Griffin to handle the divorce. She got hosed, even though Wayne was the one doing the running around.”

I closed my eyes. How did these people in Guthrie keep all these exes straight? “Wait.” A sudden thought occurred to me. “You’re telling me Shirlene was married to a Dr. Pepper?” I started to giggle. “That’s hilarious.” Once I got started, I couldn’t stop. “Dr Pepper!” I yelped. “I’m a Pepper, she’s a Pepper. Get it?”

“Peppers plural,” Tee said, his voice cold. “Wayne Peppers. Not Pepper. Get it?”

“Dr. Peppers,” I said, my voice strangled with laughter. I couldn’t stop giggling. I giggled so hard I snorted, and then I giggled some more.

“You have a weird sense of humor,” Tee said, shaking his head.

“I know, but I haven’t had a lot to laugh about lately,” I said, wiping the tears from my eyes. “That’s why I wanted to go to dinner with you tonight, to celebrate.”

“What were we going to celebrate?” he asked cautiously.

Suddenly, Jimmy sat up straight in his seat. “She told the FBI to go fly a kite!” he said, slurring the words. “Old Dempsey here’s a badass.” He belched loudly, then slumped back down in his seat again.

With great effort, the two of us managed to pour Jimmy Maynard out of the Prius and into his own bed in his own house. “I’m fine,” he kept saying. “Lemme finish my prime rib.” Tee dragged him into the glass-walled bedroom and pushed him over onto the bed. He pulled Jimmy’s loafers from his feet and looked over at me. “I draw the line at some things,” he said. “He can just sleep with his clothes on tonight. It won’t be the first time.”

We locked up the house and walked back to the Prius. I got in the front seat and handed Tee the Styrofoam to-go box from the country club. “Here’s your dinner,” I said lamely. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to eat it in peace.” I took a deep breath. “And I’m sorry I jumped to conclusions about you and Shirlene.”

“You should be sorry,” Tee said. But he reached across the gearbox and took my hand in his. He glanced over at me. “You doin’ anything tonight?”

“I was hoping to have a celebratory dinner with my gentleman friend.”

“Your place or mine? Wait. I’m thinking my place. Unless you confiscated that broom from Ella Kate.”

“What about your dad?” I asked. “It’s kind of late. Won’t we disturb him?”

Tee chuckled. “Oh, I’m pretty sure with Veronica Lanier in town, the silver fox is spending the night out tonight.”

T
ee unlocked his front door and pulled me inside. As soon as the door was closed, he had me pinned against it. He ran his hands down my arms and locked them around my waist, pulling me to him. “Where have you been keeping this outfit?” he asked, nudging the blouse neckline over my shoulder with his chin, kissing my skin as he bared it.

“In the closet,” I managed, but I soon realized his question was largely rhetorical. In very little time he’d pulled my blouse free of the skirt waistband, and with his thumbs, he pushed my breasts out of the bra cups. He lowered his head and kissed them until I was dizzy and breathless.

“Hey,” I said, catching his chin in my hands. I kissed him on the mouth, he kissed me back, and we stood there like that, melted into the paint for what seemed like a long time.

“What about your dinner?” I asked, when I managed to pull away for a breath.

“I hate prime rib,” he told me. “Come on.” He tugged me by the hand into the silent, darkened house.

We stopped in the living room. He shrugged out of his blue blazer and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. He pulled me down onto the brocade sofa, and flung the heap of needlepoint pillows onto the floor with one sweep of his arm. “Come here,” he said. We sank into the cushions. His kisses were sweet and urgent, and his hands were busy. In what seemed like seconds, he’d worked the zipper of my skirt down, and my arms free of my blouse. I managed to loosen his striped rep tie and unfasten the top button on his heavily starched dress shirt. But my fingernails, broken off short by all my labors at the house, fumbled ineffectively with the next one.

“Why do they make the buttons on men’s shirts so tiny?” I asked, tugging his shirt loose of his slacks and running my hands up his bare chest.

“Don’t know,” he mumbled, kicking off his loafers. “We’ll have to look into that. Later.”

I heard the slow, reassuring tick of the clock on the mantel as I worked at unbuckling his belt. My blouse came fully off. His shirt buttons finally came free of the buttonholes.

“Wait!” I said urgently, as headlights shone in the front windows. I sat up and reached desperately for my clothing.

A moment later, the lights were gone.

“False alarm,” Tee said, pulling me back down onto the sofa. “I told you, Dad’s out for the evening. Now, will you relax?”

“I’m sorry.”

“Show me how sorry you are,” he suggested.

I stood up again and let the skirt fall to the floor.

“That’s a good start,” he said, his arms crossed behind his head. “What else ya got?”

I stepped out of the skirt and kicked off my ballet flats. Dressed only in my bra and panties I took a step toward him. Headlights swept the room and I dove onto the sofa, right on top of him.

“I’m sorry,” I said again. “I just feel so exposed here.”

He kissed my bare shoulder, groaned, and stood up. “Come on then,” he said, tugging me by the hand. I barely had time to grab up my clothes.

“Maybe this isn’t such a good idea,” I said as he pulled me out of the living room and into the kitchen. The only light there was the LED display on the range. “I just…feel like I’m back in high school, getting felt up by my boyfriend out in the driveway, while my dad’s inside, peering out the window.”

He stopped in his tracks with a look of mock outrage on his face. “You let your boyfriend feel you up? In high school? What kind of nice girl does something like that?”

“I was a senior,” I explained. “And he swore he wouldn’t try anything below the waist.”

“I would hope not,” Tee said, backing me up against the refrigerator. He cupped one hand under my butt, and with the other hand, tugged at the waistband of my panties, rolling them down with agonizing slowness.

“You didn’t let the guy do anything like this, right?” he said, nuzzling my neck, and exploring between my legs.

I gasped. “Never. Swear to God.”

“Good,” Tee said.

I let my fingertips trail down his chest, and bent and kissed his nipples. My fingers found his zipper. I tugged it down an inch and stopped, hooking one finger inside the fly of his briefs.

“Will you still respect me?” I asked.

He clamped his hand over my own. “You won’t believe how much I’ll respect you.”

I pressed my hips into his and locked my arms around his neck. He reached around my back and with a single swift motion unhooked my bra.

“I don’t know,” I said, nipping his earlobe and letting my bra fall to the floor. “You’ve got some pretty expert moves. You weren’t one of those fast guys my mother warned me about, were you?”

He cupped one of my breasts in his hand and put his lips to the nipple. A moment later, he looked up at me. “Me? Fast? Nah. Slow and steady, that’s my motto.”

He was true to his word too. He explored my body in exquisite detail, touching and kissing me until I forgot who I was and where I was.

“Tee,” I finally managed. “Isn’t there someplace else we could do this?”

Before he could answer, there was a loud clatter behind me. I jumped, and Tee took a step backward, nearly stumbling in the process. He righted himself, and hitched up his slacks with one hand. I giggled nervously despite myself.

“It’s just the damned ice maker,” he said through gritted teeth.

“Sorry.”

“Come on,” he said. “We’re through in here.”

I grabbed up my bundle of clothes and followed him into a small
utility room that smelled of bleach and detergent. A wooden rod held a row of freshly laundered hanging clothes, and beside it was a shelf unit of cleaning supplies.

“Here?” I asked, looking with alarm at the gleaming white washer and dryer.

“Not here,” Tee said. He took me in his arms again. “Although, come to think of it, if we waited till the spin cycle…”

“Forget it,” I said, shivering in the unheated room. He pulled me closer, and his hands roamed down my bare spine. “You never fantasized about doing dirty things in the laundry room?”

“Honestly? No.”

He sighed. “We’re going to have to work on your imagination, Dempsey Killebrew.” He took a flannel shirt off a hanger and draped it over my shoulders, pulling my arms into the sleeves, but leaving it unbuttoned, his hands deliberately grazing my breasts.

“Shoes?” he asked, glancing down at my bare feet.

“Where are you taking me?” I asked. “Tee, I’m nearly naked. I can’t.”

He put his fingers to my lips. “Shh.” He kissed me lightly.

There was a peg rack of coats and jackets by the back door, and on the floor, a row of boots and shoes neatly lined up. He knelt at my feet and lifted my right foot. He kissed the instep, and then slipped my foot into a bleached-out sneaker three sizes too big. He lifted my left foot and did the same thing. He ran his hands up the back of my calves, and I shivered in expectation. He kissed one of my knees, and then the other, running his hands up the front of my thighs. He clasped my butt in both hands, and kissed the bare skin below my navel, and then below that, his beard scratching at my tender skin.

“Oh my God, Tee,” I begged.

He stood up without another word, and slid his feet into a pair of loafers. He opened the back door. I gasped as the cold air hit my naked skin. He grabbed my hand and pulled me out the door.

“Come on,” he urged.

The full moon spilled pale yellow light onto a small, brick-walled garden. A tall tree’s budded-out limbs stretched toward the sky, and hedges of knee-high boxwood outlined beds of bare-limbed rosebushes.
Pea gravel crunched beneath our feet as Tee steered me down the garden path.

As my eyes grew accustomed to the half-light, I could make out a small outbuilding at the end of the path. It was white clapboard, with a steeply pitched roof and a pocket-size screened porch.

Tee pushed the screen door open, and it slapped shut behind us. The porch was only big enough for two painted wooden rocking chairs. Ignoring them, Tee wrenched the wooden door open, its hinges screeching in protest.

Moonlight streamed into the room through a window high in the pitched roof. We were standing in one large room, open to exposed rafters. Everything was unpainted wood—floors, walls, and ceilings. It smelled like the inside of a forest. There was a desk, piled high with papers, and a computer, against one wall, and a chair shoved up to it. I could see a small closet through a half-open door, and on the far wall, facing me, another half-open door revealed what looked like a bathroom.

A highly polished mahogany four-poster bed took up most of the room, its covers rumpled, pillows piled high. A shirt and a pair of jeans were slung over one of the posters.

“What is this place?” I asked, running my hand over the plank walls.

“It’s my place,” Tee said, closing the door behind us and making a show of locking it. “Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company tonight.”

“Your place? You don’t live in the big house?”

“Nope.” He took me by the hand until we were standing at the foot of the bed. “It used to be a potting shed. Dad and I built it for Mom one summer.”

“This was a potting shed?” I stepped out of the sneakers. The pine boards were cool and smooth underfoot. “Pretty fancy.”

“She liked to come out here and sit and read her gardening books and seed catalogs,” Tee said. “Dad had it plumbed, and put in heat and air too. He thought she needed her own space, since he had a den, and, of course, the law office. She loved it out here. I was living in my own place, in town, but after she died, Dad seemed pretty lonely. I sure as
hell wasn’t ready to move back in here after being out on my own all that time, but then, I got to thinking about the shed, and it seemed like it might be a good compromise.”

“It’s wonderful,” I said, clasping my arms around his waist. “Like a little playhouse.”

“Guys don’t play house,” Tee said. He kissed me for a long time.

I shrugged out of my flannel shirt. “You don’t know what you’ve been missing.”

We both dozed off, and when I awoke, I was on my side, with Tee spooned up behind me, one bare arm slung over my side, his hand cupped around my breast. His breath was warm and sweet on my neck. I wriggled out from under him. He rolled to the other side of the bed.

I got up and went into the bathroom. I looked at myself in the mirror. My hair was wild, my cheeks and neck and chest scraped pink from beard burn. I tiptoed back out into the main room and groped around on the floor until I found my panties and the flannel shirt. I had no idea where the rest of my clothes were. I sat down at Tee’s desk and moved the mouse on his computer until the screen came glowingly to light. It was nearly 4
A.M.

I went over and sat on the side of the bed. I kissed Tee’s lips lightly. He smiled, but didn’t open his eyes. I kissed him again, parting his lips with the tip of my tongue.

“Mmm. Nice,” he said, pulling me down onto the bed beside him. “Are we gonna play house again?” He nuzzled my neck and pushed the sheet down to show me how ready he was to resume play.

“No,” I laughed regretfully. “Listen, Tee. I’ve got to get home.”

“Noooo,” he said, moaning and rolling over with his back to me.

“Seriously,” I said. “Home. Please?”

He rolled back over. “Stay. Please?” He grabbed a handful of the flannel shirt and gently tugged. He frowned. “You’re dressed. I like undressed better.”

“Me too,” I admitted. He was adorable, with his hair mussed and his eyes heavy lidded with sleep and desire. The most adorable man I’d ever
seen, naked or not. I bent to kiss him, and that was a mistake. He ran his hands up under the flannel shirt, and I felt my resolve begin to melt.

“See?” he said, yawning, his fingers lazily circling my nipple. “You know you want to stay.”

“Can’t,” I said, maneuvering out of his reach. I had to avoid temptation.

“It’s the middle of the night, baby,” Tee protested, propping himself up on one elbow. “Come back to bed. I’ll take you home first thing in the morning. I’ll even fix you breakfast. Biscuits. Did you know I can make biscuits?”

“Another time,” I promised. “It’s almost four. I’ll stay next time. But right now I’ve really, really got to get home. Bobby’s coming today, and he always shows up right at daylight. I’ve still got to get those cupboard doors sanded—”

Tee swung his legs over the side of the bed. “And you don’t want Bobby Livesey to catch you sneaking up the front walk with your panties in your pocketbook and a smile on your face.”

I blushed.

“I knew it,” Tee said, yawning again. “Still worried about your reputation.” He stood up and padded, naked, toward the bathroom. I watched him go, savoring the sight of his slim hips tapering down to pale, muscular buns. He looked over his shoulder and caught me watching. I blushed again.

“Some renegade you are.”