So that was the reason Tom was so gloomy these days. Lonny couldn’t imagine why he’d said no to Michelle when he was so obviously taken with the girl. Apparently his hired hand was as inept at relationships as Lonny was himself. Granted, he’d never had any difficulties during his rodeo days, but Joy Fuller was a different proposition altogether. “I’ll ask Tom about it and get back to you.”
Charley hesitated. “If you do, be subtle about it, okay? Otherwise, Michelle will get upset with me.”
“I will,” Lonny promised, considering his options.
There was the school carnival, for starters. Lonny figured he’d go around suppertime—and while he was at it, he’d bring Tom. The dance was later that night, so if Tom was already in town, he’d have no excuse not to attend. These events weren’t for another two weeks, but his sister had roped him into volunteering for the cleanup committee, which meant he’d be picking up trash and sweeping the street. She’d said something about him frying burgers with Chase, too. There was no point in arguing with her. Besides, he enjoyed the festivities.
Last year Joy had been working the cotton candy machine. He’d hoped to have a conversation with her, but he hadn’t done it. For one thing, she’d been constantly busy, chatting with a crowd of people who all seemed to like her and have lots to say. For another, he’d felt uncharacteristically tongue-tied around her. He sure didn’t want a bunch of interested onlookers witnessing his stumbling, fumbling attempts at conversation.
When he’d finished talking to Charley and climbed into the cab of his pickup, Lonny noticed a flash of green outside the town’s biggest grocery store, situated across the street.
Lonny’s eyes locked on Joy Fuller’s green PT Cruiser. She pulled into the lot, parked and then headed into the store.
Groceries were on Lonny’s list of errands. Nothing much, just the basics. Unexpectedly, the same happy feeling he’d experienced while driving into town with the radio blasting came over him. A carefree, what-the-hell feeling…
Lonny parked and jumped out of his pickup. His steps were light as he entered the store and grabbed a cart. His first stop was the vegetable aisle. It was too soon to expect much produce from Letty’s garden. Last year, she’d seen to it that he got healthy portions of lettuce, green beans, fresh peas and zucchini. He was counting on her to do the same this summer. Until then, he had no choice but to buy a few vegetables himself.
Glancing around, he was disappointed not to see Joy. He tossed a bag of carrots in his cart, then threw in some lettuce and made his way to the meat department. She wasn’t there. So he wheeled his cart to the back of the store, to the dairy case. He’d heard that a lot of women ate yogurt. But Joy wasn’t in that section, either.
Then he heard her laugh.
Lonny smiled. The sound came from somewhere in the middle of the store. Turning his cart around, he trotted toward the frozen food. He should’ve known that was where he’d find her.
Here was proof that, unlike Letty, who cooked for her family, Joy didn’t take much time to prepare meals. Neither did he, come to think of it—breakfast was his one and only specialty—which was why dinner invitations from Letty were appreciated. Tom and Lonny mostly fended for themselves. A can of soup or chili, a sandwich or two, was about as fancy as either of them got.
Sure enough, the instant Lonny turned into the aisle, he saw Joy. Her back was to him, and the three Wilson kids were chatting with her, along with their mom, Della. Lonny had gone to school with Della Harrison; she’d married Bobby Wilson, a friend of his, and had three kids in quick succession. Lonny didn’t know whether to envy Bobby and Della or pity them.
He strolled up to the two women. “Hi, Della,” he said, trying to seem casual and nonchalant. He nodded politely in Joy’s direction and touched the brim of his Stetson.
The smile faded from Joy’s face. “Mr. Ellison,” she returned primly.
Lonny had trouble keeping his eyes off Joy. He had to admit she looked mighty fine in a pair of jeans. Both women gazed at him expectantly, and he didn’t have a clue what to say next. Judging by her expression, Joy would rather be just about anywhere else at that moment.
“Good to run into you, Lonny,” Della said pleasantly. “Bobby was saying the other day that we don’t see near enough of you.”
“Yeah, we’ll get together soon.” Lonny manufactured an anxious frown. “But I’ve been having problems with my truck. I had an accident recently and, well, it hasn’t run the same since.”
“Really?” Della asked.
“That’s right,” he said, wondering if he’d overdone the facade of wounded innocence.
“Miss Fuller is my teacher,” a sweet little girl announced proudly.
Della was looking suspiciously from him to Joy. Lonny decided that was his cue to move on, and he would have, except that he made the mistake of glancing into Joy’s grocery cart. It was just as he’d expected—frozen entrées. Only she’d picked the diet ones. She didn’t need to be on any diet. In fact, her figure was about as perfect as a woman’s could get. No wonder she’d snapped at him and been so irritable. The woman was starving herself.
“That’s what you intend to eat this week?” he asked, reaching for one of the entrées. He felt suddenly hopeful. If she was hungry, the way he suspected, then she might accept an invitation to dinner. They could talk everything out over enchiladas and maybe a Corona or two. Everything always seemed better on a full stomach.
“What’s wrong with that?” she demanded, yanking the frozen entrée out of his hand and tossing it back in her cart.
“You shouldn’t be on a diet,” he insisted. “If that’s what you’re having for dinner, it’s no wonder you’re so skinny—or so mad.”
“Lonny,” Della gasped.
Oh, boy, he’d done it again. That comment hadn’t come out quite as he’d intended. “I—you…I—” He tried to backtrack, but all he could manage was a bad imitation of a trout. As usual, his mouth had operated independently of his brain.
He turned to Della, but she glared at him with the same intensity as Joy. Instinct told him to hightail it out of the store before he made the situation worse than it already was.
“I didn’t mean that like it sounded,” he muttered. “You look fine for being underweight.” Again he glanced at Della for help, but none was forthcoming. “You’re a little on the thin side, that’s all. Not much, of course. In fact, you’re just about right.”
“It’s a male problem,” Della said, speaking to Joy. She scowled. “They don’t know when to keep their mouths shut.”
“Uh, it was nice seeing you both,” he said. He’d thought he was complimenting her, but to his utter astonishment, Joy’s eyes had filled with tears.
Lonny’s gut twisted. He couldn’t imagine what he’d said that was bad enough to make her cry. “Joy, I…”
Della looked at him with open contempt. He swallowed, not knowing how to fix this mess. He was aghast as Joy abruptly left the aisle, her grocery cart rattling.
“See what you’ve done?” Della hissed at him beneath her breath. “You idiot.”
“What’s wrong with Miss Fuller?” the little girl asked. “What did that man do?” She focused her blue eyes on him and had he been a lesser man, Lonny would’ve backed off. If looks could kill, his sister would be planning his burial service about now.
“I—I didn’t mean anything,” Lonny stammered, feeling as low as a man could get.
“You’re hopeless,” Della said, shaking her head.
The girl shook her head, too, eyes narrowed. The kid came by that evil look naturally, Lonny realized.
“I…I…”
“The least you can do is apologize.” Della’s fingers gripped the cart handle.
“I tried.” He motioned helplessly.
“You didn’t try hard enough.” With that Della sped away, her children in tow. The little girl marched to the end of the aisle, then turned back and stuck out her tongue at him.
A sick feeling attack
ed the pit of his stomach. He should’ve known better. He’d already decided not to pursue a relationship with Joy and then, next thing he knew, he was inviting her for dinner. A lot of good that had done him.
He felt dreadful, worse than dreadful. He’d actually made Joy cry, but God’s honest truth, he couldn’t believe a little comment like that was worthy of tears.
He walked up to the front of the store only to see Joy dash out, carrying two grocery bags. Abandoning his cart, he hurried after her.
“Joy,” he called, sprinting into the parking lot.
At the sound of his voice she whirled around and confronted him. “In case you hadn’t already guessed, I’m not interested in speaking to you.”
“I—ah…” In his entire life, Lonny had never backed down from a confrontation. Served him right that the first time it happened would be with a woman.
“You were trying to embarrass me. Trying to make me feel stupid.”
“I…I—” For some reason, he couldn’t make his tongue form the words in his brain.
“You poked fun at me, called me skinny. Well, maybe I am, but—”
“You aren’t,” he cried. “I just said that because…because it didn’t look like you were eating enough and I thought maybe I could feed you.”
“Feed me?”
“Dinner.”
“Just leave me alone!” Joy left him and bolted for her car.
Lonny exhaled sharply. Following her was probably a bad idea—another one in a long list of them. He would’ve preferred to simply go home, but he couldn’t make himself do it. Unable to come up with any alternative, Lonny jogged after her. He wouldn’t sleep tonight if he didn’t tell her how sorry he was.
He knew she’d heard his footsteps, because the instant she set the groceries in the Cruiser’s trunk, she whirled around. They were practically nose to nose. “I don’t need you to feed me or talk to me or anything else,” she said. “All I want you to do is leave me alone.”
“I will, only you have to listen to me first.” Damn, this was hard. “I didn’t mean to suggest you were unattractive, because you are.”
“Unattractive?” she cried. “I’m unattractive? This is supposed to be an apology? Is that why you decided not to see me two years ago? You thought I was too skinny?”
“No, no, I meant you’re attractive.” Could this possibly get any worse? “Anyway, that has nothing to do with now. Can’t you just accept my apology? Are you always this hotheaded?”
Eyes glistening, she turned and slammed the trunk lid. The noise reverberated around the parking lot.
Nothing he said was going to help; the situation seemed completely out of his control. “I think you’re about as beautiful as a girl can get.” There, he’d said it.
She stared at him for a long moment. “What did you say?”
“You’re beautiful,” he repeated. He hadn’t intended to tell her that, even if it was true. Which it was.
The fire in her eyes gradually died away, replaced by a quizzical look that said she wasn’t sure she could believe him. But then she smiled.
Lonny felt a burst of sheer happiness at that smile.
She glanced down at the asphalt. “When I was growing up, I had knobby knees and skinny legs and I was teased unmercifully. The other kids used to call me Skel. Short for skeleton.”
That explained a lot.
“I had no idea.”
“You couldn’t have,” she assured him. “When you said I was skinny, it brought back a lot of bad memories.”
In an effort to comfort her, Lonny pulled her close. That was when insanity took over for the second time that day. Even knowing they were in the middle of town in the grocery-store parking lot, even knowing she’d told him in no uncertain terms to leave her alone, Lonny bent forward and kissed her.
Kissing Joy felt good. She seemed to be experiencing the same wonderful sensation, because she didn’t object. He knew he was right when she wound her arms around his neck and she opened to him, as naturally as could be.
Lonny groaned. They kissed with a passion that was as heated as any argument they’d ever had. He wanted to tell her again how sorry he was, how deeply he regretted everything he’d said, and he prayed his kisses were enough to convey what was in his heart.
Then all at once Joy’s hands were pushing him away. Caught off guard, Lonny stumbled back. He would’ve landed squarely on his butt if not for some quick shuffling.
“What did you do that for?” She brought one hand to her mouth.
“I don’t know,” he admitted quietly. “I wanted to tell you I was sorry, and that seemed as good a way as any.”
She backed toward the driver’s door as if she didn’t trust him not to reach for her a second time.
He might have, too, if he’d felt he had the slightest chance of reasoning with her—or resuming their previous activity.
“Well, don’t do it again.”
“Fine,” he said. She made it sound as if that kiss had been against her will. Not so. She could deny it, but he knew the truth. Joy Fuller had wanted that kiss as much as he had.
Chapter Six
Joy couldn’t figure out how that kiss had ever happened. As she drove home, she touched her finger to her swollen lips. What shocked her most was how much she’d enjoyed his kiss. They’d kissed before, back in their dating days, but it certainly hadn’t affected her like this. Her irritation rose. Lonny Ellison had insulted her, and in response, she’d let him kiss her?
Upset as she was, Joy nearly ran through the stop sign at Spruce and Oak. Again. She slammed on her brakes hard, which jolted her forward with enough force to lock her seat belt so tightly she could barely breathe. Just as quickly, she was thrown back against the seat. When she did manage to catch her breath, she exhaled shakily as her pulse hammered in her ears.
Once she got home, Joy unpacked her groceries and tried hard to put that ridiculous kiss out of her mind. The fact that Lonny had apologized was a lame excuse for what he’d done—and she’d allowed. Standing in her kitchen, Joy covered her face with both hands. For heaven’s sake, they’d been in a parking lot! Anyone driving by or coming out of the store might have witnessed that…that torrid scene.
Her face burned at the mere thought of it. She’d worked hard to maintain a solid reputation in the community, and now Lonny Ellison and her own reckless behavior threatened to destroy it.
Thankfully, her afternoon was busy; otherwise she would’ve spent the rest of the day worrying. She had choir practice at two o’clock at the church and there was a Carnival Committee meeting at school immediately following that. Joy’s one desperate hope was that no one she knew had been anywhere near the grocery store this morning.
By the time she arrived at the church, her stomach was in turmoil. As she took her place at the organ, she surreptitiously watched the choir members. Fortunately, no one seemed to pay her any particular attention. That was promising, although she supposed the last person they’d say anything to would be her. Once she was out of sight, the gossip would probably spread faster than an August brushfire.
To her relief, practice went well. Joy stayed on when everyone had left and played through the songs, which helped settle her nerves. Music had always had a calming effect on her, and that was exactly what she needed.
Kissing in public. Dear heaven, what was she thinking? Of course, that was the problem. She hadn’t been thinking. All reason had flown from her brain. But regardless of her own role in this, she cast the greater part of the blame at Lonny Ellison’s feet. His sole purpose in commenting on her diet had been to embarrass her.
At three, the school parking lot started to fill up for the meeting. The committees had been formed months earlier, and their main purpose now was to raise funds in order to finance the end-of-school carnival. Bringing in professional carnival rides had put a definite strain on their limited budget. But everyone in town was excited about it, and the committee would do whatever was necessary to finance the rides, for whic
h they planned to charge only a nominal fee.
A number of women had already gathered in the high school gymnasium when Joy slipped into the meeting. She sat in the back row, where she was soon joined by Letty Brown. Involuntarily, Joy tensed, afraid Lonny might have mentioned their kiss to his sister. Apparently not, because Letty smiled at her, and they made small talk for several minutes. That didn’t prove anything, though.
“When’s the last time you talked to your brother?” Joy asked when she couldn’t stand the suspense anymore.
Letty frowned. “A couple of days ago. Why?”
It demanded all of Joy’s acting skills to give a nonchalant shrug. “No reason.”
A moment later, Doris Fleming banged the gavel to bring the meeting to order. After the preliminaries and the reading of the minutes, Doris announced, “I have all the game prizes ordered, I’ve paid for the carnival, and—I’m shocked to tell you—our finances have been entirely depleted. We need to raise funds and we need to do it fast, otherwise we’ll have no operating budget. We still have to buy food, drinks and so forth.”
Janice Rothchild’s hand shot into the air. “We could do a bake sale. That’s always good for raising money.”
A few women groaned. Muttering broke out until Doris banged the gavel again.
“A bake sale’s always been our best money-raiser,” Janice reminded the other women. She should know because she’d been the carnival treasurer for as long as Joy had been in town.
“Well, yes, Della’s pies sell out right away, and Florence Williams’s sourdough biscuits, too, of course.”
“Don’t forget Sally’s chocolate cake,” Myrtle Jameson shouted out. “That’s one of the first to go. But last year, everything was sold out in under two hours.”
“Order, please,” Doris said. She held her index finger to her lips. “Myrtle, you’re right. Remember how, at the last bake sale, there was a line outside the door even before we opened? And Betty,” she said, pointing her gavel at a woman who sat in the front row. “Tell the ladies what happened to you.”
Betty Sanders, who was well into her eighties, stood, using her cane for balance. “One of the men stopped me in the parking lot and bought all my butterhorn rolls the second I got out of my car.”