Brothers South of the Mason Dixon Read online

  As much as I wanted her tucked safely against my chest, I couldn’t reach for her. Not yet. Not when she looked like she may slap my face. I would take that slap from her gladly if it made her feel better.

  “I bought a truck”—I took a measured breath and continued—“I quit my job. My things are in the truck.”

  Her eyes widened and her lips parted slightly. “What?” she whispered.

  “If this is where you are, then it’s where I want to be.”

  Scarlet

  I HAD HEARD of people having those moments where they are completely speechless. No words could form. Their mouths won’t move. Not even a grunt. I didn’t believe that was realistic. I mean who can’t at least make a grunt?

  I stood corrected. It’s possible. Because I wasn’t sure oxygen was even moving through my lungs. Shock could do many things to a person. This must be one of them. It only lasted a few moments. Then the fear I misunderstood settled in. That made more sense. Bray had said something that I heard incorrectly.

  He moved toward me and I watched, my head tilting as he drew closer to I could keep eye contact. I was waiting for them to twinkle with laughter from his cruel joke. That was more Bray-like than this man who I thought had just said he wanted to be where I was.

  Loving him, needing him, it was all so hard to do. He made it impossible not to want him. When he was sweet I clung to it hoping the moment never ended, but it always did. Then I was left hollow from the experience that was all too fleeting.

  “This sure looks like it’s gonna end with roses and chocolate, but I need these customers taken care of before they all get up and walk out,” Ethel’s voice rang out over the dining room. Startled, I gasped and spun around. I’d forgotten where we were. What I was supposed to be doing. Everything. Bray did that to me. And how I hated it.

  “Diesel, get the lemon pie and start giving everyone who’s had to sit here and watch the drama going on while they choked on their food due to nothing to drink, a free slice,” Ethel ordered, then pointed at Bray. “You find a seat. Stay in it. If you go running off again I’m liable to get my shotgun off the wall in my office and chase you down. Are we clear?”

  I paled. Ethel was threatening Bray. Oh dear God. I didn’t look back at him but the low laughter from his chest was my second surprise for the evening. “Yes, ma’am. We are clear.”

  He’d sounded respectful. Not sarcastic. I started to turn back to look at him and Ethel snapped her fingers. “No you don’t! Focus is this way, dear.” She winked at me and went back into the kitchen.

  Diesel stalked past me following her. Either he was going to argue that Bray needed to leave or he was angry about giving out the pie. I was pretty sure it was the former. He was angry at Bray. Not that it was his business to be. I wondered how long they had been standing there arguing when I walked out. Bray had a short temper and seeing Diesel advancing on him like that made me panic. I didn’t know what Bray would do next, but an image of Diesel sprawled out on the floor flashed through my mind.

  Grabbing the water pitcher, I started making my way around refilling drinks and checking on the few customers we had left. My cheeks were warm from the pink stain on them. All eyes had been on the three of us.

  “Two good lookin’ young men like them fighting over you,” Mrs. Warrior said in a loud whisper and a grin as I filled her cup with water. “Reminds me of my younger days.”

  Mr. Warrior made a sound in his throat. “Who was fightin’ over you, Jane? I shoulda given you to ‘em and they could have saved me a lot of trouble and money.”

  The Warriors had been married sixty years. I knew this because they’d told me more than once. The also fought regularly, and Mrs. Warrior flirted with the other senior citizen males in the place. She must have been pretty once because she carried herself as if they all were looking at her.

  “I should have chosen one of the rich boys who wanted to court me. It would have been a more exciting life. I’d have gotten to see New York City. I always did want to see that big ole tree at Christmas they have there.”

  Mr. Warrior rolled his eyes. “What rich boys? You sure you aren’t getting your life confused with one of them stories you watch?”

  Mrs. Warrior straightened up in her chair, correcting my assumption that is wasn’t possible for her to sit any straighter. “The summer people,” she said as if Mr. Warrior was too beneath her to know what that was. “The wealthy came to the beaches back then for its seclusion from the big city,” she told me matter-of-factly. “My momma worked for several of them.”

  “Your momma cleaned their toilets. Stop jabbering like you were highfalutin and let the girl do her job,” Mr. Warrior grumbled.

  I smiled and hurried to the next table. I knew from experience sticking around would get me put in the middle of their fight and I wasn’t interested. I chanced a glance back at Bray to see he was still here. His gaze following me. He didn’t seem angry to be told to take a seat. Or in a hurry to leave. He was . . . different.

  “Can I have a coffee to go, sugar?” the man at my next table asked and I snapped back to attention trying not to think about Bray. Not yet anyway. But he was here. He hadn’t left me. He’d left to come back to me. I didn’t know what to think about that. Or if I could believe it.

  “I don’t reckon that one is leaving,” the man said, then winked at me.

  My already warm cheeks flared with heat and I hurried to get him a coffee to go for the road. I could tell by the smell of tobacco, wrinkled clothing and endless consumption of coffee that he belonged to the semitruck outside.

  Diesel was walking out with the pie and a scowl on his face as I got to the drink station.

  “You’re smarter than this, Scarlet,” he said under his breath.

  I didn’t respond to him. This was a guy who had driven his drug dealing friend’s car around and gone to jail for him. He wasn’t that sharp himself. Besides he didn’t know our story. He assumed he did. And I hadn’t asked for his opinion.

  “The guy is a player. He likes the chase,” he continued.

  I looked up at him. Forced a smile. “You have several people waiting on their free pie,” I said with fake cheer, then went to take the trucker his coffee and leave him his bill.

  “Can I get more sweet tea, Scarlet?” Hansel Meyers asked. He was a thirty-year-old who lived with his mother and wore bow ties. He also ate here for dinner on her Bingo nights. To most people he was pathetic or pitiful, but he had a mom who loved him. Wanted him around. I thought he was lucky.

  I grabbed the tea pitcher and tipped it to give him a refill.

  “Thank you,” he said shyly. He always turned bright red from the roots of his receding hairline to this chest when he spoke to me.

  “You’re welcome, Hansel. I’ll leave your bill right here,” I replied.

  I started to walk off and he blurted out, “If things don’t work out with the others, I’m free this weekend.”

  I would be willing to bet Hansel was free most weekends. I simply smiled at him and nodded. I didn’t know the correct words to say there. My eyes quickly darted to Bray who was covering his mouth discreetly with his hand. His eye danced with laughter. He was laughing . . . and trying to hide it.

  The Bray I know wouldn’t care about Hansel’s feelings. I stood there staring at him again confused. The warmth in his eyes as he stared back at me made my chest feel funny. It wasn’t something I was familiar with. It felt nice. No . . . better than nice. It was as if I had been dipped in a tingly peppermint bath. I shivered.

  “Jesus,” Diesel muttered disgusted as he walked off.

  I ignored him because he didn’t understand. Bray Sutton wasn’t only the first man I ever trusted to love, he had also been my first for many things. He was the first man I ever felt safe with. That was important to me. Right now, I was feeling something new and I couldn’t put a name to it. Maybe it didn’t need a name or explanation. I just didn’t want it to ever go away. With Bray, you never knew when he would be gone.


  Bray

  AFTER THE DINER had emptied and Scarlet was putting chairs on top of tables, I stood and did the same. She paused and watched me for a moment. I grinned and continued. She left me to do finish, then began vacuuming the floors so she could mop them.

  Gasoline walked in once, but turned and walked back out. Scarlet didn’t seem to notice and I knew he was disappointed. He wanted her attention. I was happy she didn’t even have to pretend not to care. We had enough to work through. Another guy would have made it harder. Not that I wouldn’t have fought for her and fucking won, because I would have. I was just glad it wasn’t an obstacle. I didn’t want to focus on drama shit with another guy when I knew Scarlet had a lifetime of damage to heal from. The reminder of all I’d read made me feel ill again. I swallowed hard and took a deep breath

  I knew grabbing her and holding her while I demand she work through this—to cry, wail, hit me, all of the things I wanted to see her do—weren’t the way to handle it. Even I knew that much. I was pretty damn sure once she knew I’d read her diary she was going to be furious. Figuring out how to break that to her without her shoving me out of her life was important. Not that she could get rid of me, but fighting to stay would only make this harder.

  “I’m headed back to the house,” the older lady announced as she walked into the dining room from the kitchen. Once this is mopped, you two go on. I reckon y’all got things to discuss that I hope ends in kissin’. Diesel will handle all of the back. No need to help him tonight, Scarlet.”

  Scarlet glanced at me before turning to her boss. “Thanks, Ethel. But are you sure? I don’t mind staying to help.”

  Ethel waved her hand and tsked. “Go home, child. This man has been waiting on you all evening.”

  Scarlet finally nodded. “Okay.”

  Ethel then looked at me. “You,” she pointed. “This is your last chance. You leave our girl upset, crying, or cursing folks out again and I’m not letting you near this place. It’s time you do what needs to be done.”

  The woman was right of course. “Cursing people out?” I asked instead of agreeing.

  Ethel nodded. “Yes! Told Diesel right off. Let him have it good, then she tried to walk out and leave herself. She was fit to be tied when you left. I ain’t got time for that drama except in my soaps I watch. Only place all that belongs.”

  Scarlet had her head down, shaking it quickly. Her cheeks were slightly pink again. I held back my chuckle. I liked that she’d cursed at Diesel. He deserved it. I had no idea what the fuck he’d said, but I figured he needed a good dressing down.

  “Mop bucket is right in that closet, so is the mop. Why don’t you stop looking at her like you want to take a bite and get to mopping behind her as she vacuums. Then you two can be out of here faster.”

  I liked that idea just fine. Without any more encouragement, I went to the closet and found exactly what she said I would.

  “Go on now. Let him do it,” I heard her tell Scarlet.

  There was some whispering, then the door closed behind Ethel.

  I stopped filling the bucket with water and found Scarlet watching me. Her eyes full of questions, doubts, and fears. I hated that she looked at me like that, but what should I expect? She’d been let down her entire life. Neglected. Chosen last and not at all. I hadn’t been any better.

  Even when we were together I hadn’t been able to be exclusive. I’d refused to allow my heart to be owned by a female. I had slept around and she’d stood back waiting for any attention I’d give her. I’d taken her for granted.

  I fucking hated myself.

  “You gonna vacuum?” I asked her.

  She sighed, then nodded.

  I wanted to say so many things but not here. Not when we more than likely had a listener at the door. Not when I couldn’t hold her and promise her forever. I knew my words weren’t going to be enough. She’d need actions. And even then it would take time. But I had all the time in the world. I’d prove to her she could depend on me.

  We cleaned in silence. It wasn’t until it was finished and the things were put away that Scarlet turned to me. “Everything’s done,” she said simply.

  “Ready to go?” I wanted to have her ride with me in my truck but I was loaded down and her diary was still in my front seat.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll follow you,” I told her.

  She glanced over my shoulder outside to my truck parked out front. “You bought that from Joe Kirk, didn’t you?”

  “Yep. He had it for sale in his yard for about a month now.”

  She kept staring at it a few more seconds then shifted her gaze back to me. “You bought a truck.” It wasn’t a question. It was more of a comment made in disbelief.

  I closed the space between us and slipped my knuckle under her chin. “I’m staying wherever you are.”

  The hope in her eyes was mixed with pain. I realized there had always been pain there behind every expression she had. Even when she smiled or laughed that had been there. No one ever noticed. Not Dixie. Not me.

  Had she wanted us to see? Another question I needed an answer to but I wasn’t sure I could handle. Right now, my self-hatred was strong. Every action, every selfish decision I’d ever made concerning Scarlet haunted me. Was a lifetime long enough to make it right? I wasn’t sure it was possible. But damned if I wasn’t gonna try.

  “I’ll see you at the trailer,” she said slowly. Even now I could see the uncertainty. As if she thought I might drive away. More shit I’d brought on myself.

  I followed her out the front door and watched as she locked it behind her. I knew she was parked out back but she was purposely not going out that way to avoid Diesel. I’d have followed her if she had. She probably knew that. I wouldn’t fight with him. Didn’t matter what he said. My anger was solely concentrated on one group of people. I had nothing left for anyone else. Especially someone who saw that Scarlet was worth protecting.

  She stopped at the sidewalk. “My car is around back.”

  I stayed beside her. “I know.”

  She waited a moment, then nodded her head at my truck. “You’re parked there.”

  “I am. But if you think I’m not going to walk you to your car, then I’m an even bigger bastard than I was giving myself credit for.”

  She scrunched her nose as if confused, then shrugged. When she started walking again I fell in step beside her. I could hear the silent questions churning in her mind. The questions wanted to burst out, but she was controlling them.

  When we reached her car, I opened the door for her once she clicked the locks open from the remote in her hand. “I’ll see you in a few minutes,” I assured her then bent my head to press a kiss to her lips. A simple press of my mouth to hers. Nothing passionate or demanding. Just the connection. Promises unspoken.

  Scarlet

  EVEN THOUGH HE’D waited until I got off work, then mopped the floors, I had still watched his headlights in my rearview mirror expecting him to drive off at any second. I thought I’d watch him turn and sped away. Bray was good at changing his mind. Like this morning for example. I refused to believe he drove off planning to buy his own truck, quit his job, and move to Robertsdale.

  That idea had to come during his drive home. He wouldn’t be happy here. Getting excited was dangerous and I would not do it. I should send him home now. Save myself the heartache. I didn’t think I had the power to turn him away. What I wanted right now was to wrap my arms around him and hold on. Pretend he was there forever like he had said he was.

  Shaking my head at the silly thought I looked at myself in the mirror this time. “Get your head on straight, Scarlet.” I whispered, then turned off the car and climbed out.

  Bray was already parked and it looked like he was unloading his truck. I paused and watched as he carried two cardboard boxes toward me. “I brought what your . . . mother . . . hadn’t given away.” I tensed when he said “mother” not because mention of her affected me like that but the way he said i
t. Almost as if saying the word was so distasteful it was hard to say. What had she said to him?

  “Why did you go there?” I asked a little panicked at all the cruel things my mother could have said to him about me.

  He stopped in front of me. His gaze steady. There was reassurance in his eyes. As if he knew I needed that right now. “Because if that bitch had anything of yours I wanted you to have it.”

  She’d said something to him. There wasn’t distaste in his voice. That was hatred and disgust. “What did she say to you?” I blurted the question out while the fear began to claw at me. She could tell him terrible things. If she had, he wouldn’t be here would he?

  “Nothing worth repeating. She’s a sick, selfish, disgusting person. I’m glad you got the hell away from her. I understand your affection for this”—he nodded at the trailer—“place.” He finished without bashing it this time. “I’d prefer this too. Hell, I’d prefer one of these boxes and a dark alleyway than living in the same house as her.”

  The idea made me laugh. It wasn’t funny but it was exactly how I felt. The corner of his mouth lifted but the sadness in his eyes didn’t match up. Where had that come from?

  “Let’s get these inside. I have another one then my things. I want to get this done so I can hold you.”

  I started walking toward the trailer when he started talking, but his last comment caused me to pause mid-step. I almost tripped. Hold me? Was I asleep? Would I wake up soon and all this be a dream. If so, I was going to be devastated.

  Forcing myself to keep moving, I unlocked the door and Bray sat the boxes down inside. As he walked past me on his way back outside he stopped, bent down, and pressed a kiss to my lips again. Nothing demanding. Just a kiss. An achingly sweet kiss.

  It was after he was getting the other stuff from his truck that I finally gasped for air. I’d been holding my breath. My fingertips touched my lips and they were tingly. It was a new sensation. Bray Sutton was being . . . sweet. No demands. No crude sexual demands. Just gentle touches. And it was rocking my world. I didn’t feel balanced.