“We didn’t want to be apart. Plus, she loves it. Now that she’s newly graduated with her PhD, she can use the time to finish her cookbook like she’s always wanted.”
“She’s going to make a mint with that cookbook,” John Parker said. “No one cooks better than that girl.”
“Don’t I know it?”
John Parker set his beer and Tammy’s champagne on a silver tray as a waiter went by. “Tammy’s going to design some gardens for me.” And he winked at her, making her heart do the quickstep.
“You don’t say,” Rye said.
She caught the look they exchanged, something male and secretive.
“That’s wonderful, especially since she’s starting her own business,” Rye continued. “And hey, your place sure could use a facelift. The man’s got nothing but grass, trees, and bushes.
Boring.
Right, Tammy?”
“Trees and bushes can give a garden structure, but you need to include variety and color for all four seasons.”
Rye’s mouth twitched as he nudged John Parker with his elbow. “Variety and color? Did you hear that, J.P?”
His friend elbowed him back hard like they were two brothers fighting for no good reason. “Yes, I heard. Now about that dance, Tammy…”
Rye put a gentle hand on her back. “My friend here’s a great dancer, and being a preacher’s kid, he’ll respect the three inches between partners rule we grew up with. Remember how Mrs. Hays used her ruler to measure the space between couples?”
“She never had to with me,” Tammy told him.
John Parker laughed. “I’ll bet you pushed that line, Rye.”
“Every chance I got. I always said I didn’t know how much three inches was. Now go on and dance, honey. You’ve been working too hard.” He pushed her forward a few steps.
The dance floor was packed with guests, some twirling, others doing a simple two-step cheek-to-cheek. When John Parker crooked his arm gallantly at her, Tammy had no choice but to slide her arm through his. Okay, she
did
have a choice, she reminded herself. She just didn’t want to be rude and say no.
Rye darted over to the band, and suddenly the music changed to a dreamy, romantic number.
Her handsome companion pulled her closer and fitted one hand in hers while wrapping the other over her shoulder blade in a nice ballroom frame. She didn’t—
couldn’t
—raise her eyes when she placed her hand lightly on his shoulder. She could feel the muscles there and smell his cologne of forest and spice.
The first chords of a waltz rolled over her, and John Parker led her effortlessly. He was such a good lead she closed her eyes for a moment as the magic of the music, the familiar steps, and the comfort of her new life washed over her. Dancing on a cloud must feel this way.
His gaze was heated when she finally opened her eyes and looked up at him, and she struggled to think of something to say.
“You’re awfully good at this,” she managed to say, her throat parched now.
“I was always my sisters’ practice partner.”
His intense blue eyes had her pulse tripping. She missed a step, and his hold tightened, moving her closer to his body.
Sometimes she felt a spurt of life inside her, something raw and wet and new, when he looked at her that way…
“They’re all lovely, John Parker.” She’d met his sisters in passing at a BBQ at his house once before. They were full of piss and vinegar, as Granddaddy Crenshaw would have said.
“Yes, they are, when they’re not giving me grief. But you know how siblings are.”
When the band transitioned to another dreamy waltz, Rye’s doing, she suspected—yes, she
was
learning something about siblings and mischief—she and John Parker continued to move together effortlessly. A comfortable silence fell between them, and she let herself enjoy the feeling of his strong body against hers as they swayed to the music.
Ms. Pinky glided by with her partner then, sending Tammy an ugly smile, vacuuming up all her happiness with one look.
It was time to do something about that. The gossipers and loud mouths would forever talk about the tabloid story if Rye continued his search for the leak. It was time to let it all go, to stop inviting more speculation.
“John Parker, I have something I need to ask you. Something I don’t want you to tell Rye.”
He didn’t miss a step although his gaze darkened. “Before you ask me, you should know two things. You can ask me anything. Always. And count on my help.” He led her into a twirl. “But I can’t promise you I will keep it from Rye. He’s my best friend. And I’m his lawyer.”
“I know that, and I wouldn’t ever come between you two, but I want you to stop looking for the person who leaked details about my divorce to the papers. Rye is obsessed with finding out the truth. I initially went with the flow because…” It had been too overwhelming to do otherwise, and Rye’s anger was, well…overwhelming as well.
John Parker’s eyes turned a steely blue. “I can’t do that, Tammy. The person who’s responsible needs to be held accountable.”
“But it’s my life, and I need to move on.” Ms. Sunshine twirled past them next, a rather brightly colored omen that she should press on. “The talk is never going to stop unless you stop poking the hornet’s nest, looking for the leak.”
He pulled her even closer, now acting in utter defiance of the three-inch rule. She missed another step.
“You know, it’s not just Rye’s wish to find this person, Tammy. I want him to pay for what he did to you and your family. We all do. And he
will
. I promise you that.”
No one ever listened to her when she said how she really felt, what she really wanted. It was like everyone around her wore permanent ear plugs.
“But that’s not what I want,” she protested.
“I’m sorry the talk has been tough for you.” His sigh was long-suffering. “You have to trust us, Tammy. We can’t let people think they can get away with something like this. You were…”
When he didn’t finish the sentence, she pushed back a bit. “No, please finish. I was humiliated. Isn’t that what you were going to say? And you’re right. That’s why I want you to put a stop to this. No good will come of it. Even if you find out who did it, it will only lead to more talk.”
“Did someone say something to you here? You tell me who, and I’ll escort them out right this moment.”
She’d never seen his face this tense—his jaw tight, his eyes focused with laser-like intensity. “You look intimidating. I used to think you were too nice to be a lawyer, but now I see it.”
“I don’t want you to be intimidated by me, Tammy. I only want to protect you…like Rye does.”
Men. She’d heard that from them all her life, and they hadn’t protected her from anything.
“How can I ever stand on my own if the men around me treat me like I’m made of glass?” she burst out, unable to stop herself. “I’m tired of men thinking they know what’s best for me.”
“Tammy, that’s not—”
“Mama!” Annabelle interrupted, twirling close to them in her granddaddy’s arms. “When are you going to dance with me?”
“Soon, precious. I promise to dance the next song with you.”
“Annabelle, you save a dance for me too,” John Parker said.
Her daughter threw up her arms. “Yeah! John Parker’s going to dance with me.” And she chanted it over and over as Hampton spun her away from them.
She glanced over at Mama, who was, of course, watching them. As far as Tammy could tell, she’d spent the entire day searching for the slightest thing of which to disapprove. Her perfectly lined, lipsticked mouth was slightly pinched, but Tammy was probably the only one who noticed. When you were raised not to reveal your emotions even through body language, you had to zero in on the slight tells. She knew her mama’s. Had always feared them.
“That’s
why we have to protect you, Tammy,” John Parker said finally, bringing her back to the present moment. “There’s more innocence than just yours in the mix. We have to think of the kids too.”
Her throat squeezed shut. Hadn’t she protected them as much as she could? Even so, it hadn’t been enough. “I’m not innocent anymore, John Parker.”
His hand kneaded the rigid muscles in her back. “Of course, you are, honey, and that’s not a bad thing. Frankly, it’s one of the things I like most about you.”
Good manners failed her, and she pushed him back even further than the appropriate three inches. “You make me sound like a dumb child.”
“Tammy, you’re the furthest thing from dumb I’ve ever met. And you’re no child. You’ve fought against everything you were raised to be to give yourself and your children a better life. Where I’m from, that’s called courage—and you have it in spades.”
She prayed he wouldn’t notice her eyes tearing up. Courage? Her? “You’re wrong,” she whispered. “There are times when I’m still so afraid.”
“Put your head on my chest for a moment. I want to tell you something—just between us.”
So much for the three-inch rule. Still, she leaned in, her eyes zooming in on the rich fabric of his coat jacket before she nestled her cheek against its softness. There it was again—that spicy, exotic cologne. She hadn’t been this close to a man in years, not since Sterling had changed, the veil of his charm and handsomeness torn in two, and all the love she’d fooled herself into feeling for him had faded.
John Parker rested his chin on her head. “We’re all scared, Tammy. But only the ones with courage do what’s needed anyway. Cowards do nothing. You’ve got spine. You might think you’ve lost it, but you’ve got it. You just need to remember that.”
She lifted her head and stared into his eyes. “I want to believe that, John Parker.”
“Then do, because I see it, and I’d never lie to you.”
No, he wouldn’t. But she’d press him for more.
“Then you’ll stop looking for the source of the leak?”
The dimple winked. “In this moment, looking like you do, I want to lay the world at your feet. But Tammy, you have the courage to see it through. And deep down you know the person who did this to you needs to be found. To show you, Rory, and Annabelle what I still believe in—good ol’ fashioned justice.”
And with that, the beauty of the moment faded, evaporating like clouds on a hot day.
“Then we’re at odds over this, aren’t we?”
He twirled her around. When he brought her close again, his eyes had narrowed. “I don’t want to be, so let’s compromise since it’s what I do best. The hunt will continue, but when we find the culprit—and we will—we’ll all decide what’s best to do
with
you.”
His resolve was as unbending as the oak tree his voice reminded her of. It was a trait she admired when it wasn’t turned against her. “If that’s the best I can get, then it’s better than nothing.”
“Oh, you don’t have nothing, Tammy. Just look around you. See how much you have.”
Her whole family was dancing together save Mama, laughing and smiling. In the year since her daddy’s heart attack, which had elicited Rye’s visit to Meade, they’d become a close, loving unit again. Rye’s reintegration into the family fold had changed everything.
Gratitude bubbled up inside her, and she let herself enjoy this present moment—John Parker’s strong arms leading her across the dance floor, her family all around them—without any thoughts of the leak.
“Why did you introduce yourself to me as John Parker when we first met?” she asked him. She’d often wondered, but the question had just popped out.
“What?”
“I mean, since then, I’ve always called you John Parker even though everyone else calls you J.P. You’ve never corrected me.”
He continued to hold her after the music died, and she couldn’t force herself to step away.
“You didn’t seem like a woman who’d be comfortable calling a man by a nickname.” His smile came and went. “And I liked the way it sounded when you said my name. J.P. just wouldn’t have sounded right on your tongue.”
Tammy swallowed, her eyes tracking to his chiseled mouth. Before she had the chance to say anything—though she wasn’t sure what she
would
have said—Annabelle grabbed her waist from behind, sending her on a collision course with John Parker. His hand carefully righted her, sending a jolt of something hot and surprising down her spine.
“Mama, Mama! Granddaddy is the best dancer ever. He twirled me ‘round and ‘round.” She spun around like a top, wildly off balance.
John Parker plucked her up off the ground. “You ready for more twirling, sweetheart?”
Her daughter patted his cheeks and grinned. “Are you ready for me, big boy?”
Tammy’s mouth dropped open. “Annabelle Marie Morrison. Where on earth did you hear such a thing?”
Annabelle’s small brow furrowed. “What’s the matter, Mama? Tory says it to Uncle Rye all the time.”
John Parker’s shoulders shook with glee, and he winked at Tammy. “Let’s dance, sweetheart. Your mama doesn’t like to twirl around like you do, so I’ve got plenty of energy for you.”
She kissed him loudly on the cheek and wrapped an arm around his neck. “Good.”
“Thank you for the dance, Tammy.” He inclined his head.
Without the music, she was unsure of what to do with herself. Her feet felt like clay. “No, thank you. You remember what I said, now.”
“I’ll do my best.” He held her eyes for a moment longer, and Tammy felt a small victory. Regaining any sense of power and control over her life was her hardest ongoing battle, but she was determined to win it one day at a time. At least this had been a small victory. If her tormentor was found, she would help decide his or her fate.
Tammy surreptitiously checked on Mama again. She still sat alone, a half-empty champagne flute in her hand. Pressing a hand to her stomach, Tammy walked in the opposite direction to rejoin her family on the dance floor.
Mama knew how to exert control and be powerful, all right, but Tammy didn’t want to use her tactics.
She didn’t plan on ending up like her mama.
Chapter 2
Weddings had never held much interest for John Parker, but at least it was a good excuse to dance with the woman he wanted. He’d intentionally danced with his sisters and acquaintances for the first hour so Tammy wouldn’t sense his single-minded desire to dance with her and only her.