Wallflowers:Three of a Kind Page 2

  Much to my grandparents’ chagrin, both were named as my guardians. Because of this, they’d stopped their wild ways and settled down to raise me for their beloved older brother.

  At the time of my parents’ death, Frock You had been more of a hobby for them, but when they found themselves with a child to raise, they settled into the store and turned it into an upscale boutique the rich and famous frequently visited.

  It was situated at street level of the three-story building fronting the Savannah River on River Street. They’d bought the old building with the inheritance they’d received when their grandfather died, back when historic Savannah didn’t have the price tag it does now. They renovated the top floor into a spacious three-bedroom apartment and converted the office spaces on the second floor into two one-bedroom apartments. I lived on the second floor, right next door to 2B.

  This old building with its aged brown brick, private flower-covered courtyard and cobblestone-paved street was the only home I remembered, and I loved every inch of it.

  “Sister, it finally happened!” Eunice exploded as she entered the kitchen.

  “Calm yourself, Neecy,” Odis Lee chuckled with a gleam in his eyes. “Mornin’, Calla Lily. Mornin’, Bernie.”

  Odis Lee was a cross between Colonel Sanders and Sonny Crockett. His dark blond hair was speckled with gray, which he wore too long and slicked back. His moustache ran long and thick down the sides of his mouth, and he paired it with a petite goatee on his chin. Odis also dressed like he had just stepped off a plane from Miami, Florida, during the 1980s. Light blue linen pants showed off tan loafers worn without socks, topped off with a white T-shirt and a tan linen jacket. His entire ensemble had been put together by Aunt Eunice with vintage pieces they’d purchased for the store.

  Like Bernice, Eunice—or Neecy as she liked to be called—never married. Unlike Bernice, Eunice still entertained gentlemen when she felt like it. Odis Lee has held the position of friend for the past fifteen years.

  “Hush, Odis Lee. This is far too good not to be excited about,” Eunice scolded.

  “For goodness sake, Neecy. I don’t want to hear about you and Odis Lee’s sex life,” Bernice said, holding up her hands in protest.

  Eunice gasped, and I rolled my lips between my teeth to keep from laughing.

  “Don’t be crass, Bernie,” Eunice admonished. “I’m talkin’ about Billy Ray Stutter.”

  “All right, I’ll bite. What’s that horse’s patootie done now?”

  “That jackass has finally left his shrew of a wife, and she is dumpin’ everythin’ of his on the front lawn in a hissy fit to end all hissy fits. Odis and I saw it with our own two eyes.”

  “Wouldn’t that be your own four eyes, Aunt Neecy?”

  Bernice turned and looked at me, grinning. “Smartass becomes you, butterbean,” she chuckled and grabbed her purse off the counter.

  “We’ll get coffee to go at Blends,” Bernice announced as she brushed past Eunice and Odis Lee. “Do we still have the foldaway chairs in the back of the Wagoneer? The way that woman carries on, it could take her hours before she’s done makin’ a spectacle of herself; and if the park benches are all taken by rubberneckers, I don’t wanna stand all day long.

  “Y’all are horrible, vile snoops,” I shouted as they made their way to the front of the store. “I heard Billy Ray hasn’t been seen in days. What if somethin’s happened to him?”

  “Nonsense, Calla Lily,” Aunt Eunice hollered back. “Only the good die young. Just ask Billy Joel. Billy Ray Stutter has been a blight on Savannah since he was a teen. The man is a no-good scoundrel. I guarantee he’s off whorin’ around up near Atlanta and he’ll haul his sorry ass back when he’s done. Then we’ll have another show to watch when he finds out all his stuff is gone.”

  Bernice ripped open the door at that announcement, hooting with excitement.

  Clearly, she was looking forward to that showdown as well.

  “Call Shelly and have her mind the store while we’re gone,” Eunice shouted as the door closed behind them, leaving behind a perfumed haze of Calvin Klein’s Obsession.

  I’d followed them to the door, so I watched out the side window as they turned the corner and climbed into Eunice’s Jeep, then drove up the cobblestone ramp that led to Bay Street.

  It must be noted that all three had varying degrees of giddiness on their faces.

  Giggling in amusement, I checked the clock and saw that I had a few hours to kill before Poe Publishing’s company picnic, so I called Shelly and went to the stock room to grab a ladder and the outfit I’d put aside to dress the front of the store.

  The oversized picture window where I created the vignettes was enclosed with walls like the high-end boutiques so we could change out the clothes to go with the seasons. Since it was springtime now and summer was fast approaching, I wanted to create a beach theme with straw bags and beach balls.

  Unlocking the door, I pulled it open and started to walk in, but paused before entering when I heard footsteps upstairs in apartment 2B. Moaning in frustration, I grabbed the ladder I’d set aside and walked into the staging area hell-bent on forgetting about my new neighbor.

  Savannah could be hotter than Hades, and the huge picture window brought in the sun, heating the small space like an oven. Sweat dampened my skin within minutes, making my hands slippery as I replaced clothing on the mannequin. Twinkle lights needed to be taken down and replaced with raffia, so I climbed the ladder and began disassembling each section. With slick hands and arms full of lights, I threw loose strands around my neck so I could reach the last section. I was leaning too far to the right when the front door opened, causing the bell to ring loudly in my ear. Startled, I jumped and lost my grip, squeaking out, “Oh shit,” as the ladder came out from underneath me.

  Squeezing my eyes shut as I fell, I landed hard on the ground with a thud as the twinkle lights scattered and tangled in my hair.

  “Calla?”

  I opened my eyes at the sound of Bobby Jones’ amused voice and groaned. Bobby was an old friend of the family who worked for my grandfather, one who’d like to be more than just a friend. But the chemistry had never been there on my end. That, and the fact that I’d always kept my distance from entanglements, meant I treated him more like an annoying older brother than relationship material. Which also meant Bobby catching me with my proverbial drawers around my ankles pissed me off.

  “Help me up, will you?”

  He leaned over and grabbed me under the arms, hauling me from the floor. Then, per usual, he pulled me into a hug once he had me on my feet, holding me a little longer than was comfortable.

  “You can let me go now,” I sighed.

  “Where’s the fun in that, sugar?”

  I tried to push him back, but he didn’t budge.

  “Bobby, we are standin’ in the window. All of Savannah can see us. Please, let go.”

  A deep chuckle rolled through his chest as he let go and stepped back. When I turned to pick up the ladder, I found Devin Hawthorne standing in front of the window with his girlfriend. He’d changed his clothes and was now wearing a tight white T-shirt, equally tight jeans that accentuated his powerful legs, and scuffed motorcycle boots instead of the customary Ropers most men wore. He’d rendered me breathless without his shirt on, but the whole package, down to the scuffed boots, left me speechless and unmoving as a scarecrow guarding corn.

  I locked eyes with his and my reaction was immediate. My body hummed with attraction and my nipples hardened in response. Devin’s gaze dropped to my body as my face flushed with embarrassment, scanning me slowly from head to toe.

  “You’re a mess, sugar,” Bobby chuckled from behind me.

  When Devin’s girlfriend looked at him and laughed, I came unstuck and stepped back, crashing into Bobby, scooting around him as I rushed out of the window.

  Kill. Me. Now.

  I’d just made an utter ninny of myself in front of 2B.

  Grabbing hold of my arm as I made
my escape, Bobby crooned, “Hold still while I get the lights out of your hair.”

  I paused reluctantly.

  I heard Devin open and close his office door, then a low murmur of voices reached through the wall.

  “Did your aunts rent the office space next door?”

  “Mmm,” I answered, distracted as I tried to hear through the walls what was being said.

  “I came by to take you to lunch,” Bobby announced once he’d removed the lights from my hair. When he put his hands on both my shoulders and squeezed, I stepped forward out of his reach.

  I may not have grown up in high society like most of the young women born into wealthy families, thanks to my aunts, but that didn’t stop some of their eligible sons from pursuing me from time to time. They’d like nothing more than to tie their family to mine since an Armstrong had been in Savannah since, well, forever. There was no doubt in my mind that having one as your wife would be a crowning achievement for anyone who cared about keeping Savannah’s bloodlines pure. Unfortunately for Bobby and the other eligible founding sons, I would rather eat mud than marry one of them. My aunts and I didn’t care about bloodlines. If I got married, it would be for love. Nothing more, nothing less. Be it with a farmer, a mechanic, or a police officer turned private investigator. But definitely not to someone like Bobby Jones.

  With blond hair and squinty, green eyes to go along with an unimpressive chin, Bobby wasn’t as stuck-up as some of the other men of supposed good breeding in town, but he was boring as hell in that upper crust, entitled way some prominent families could be. He wasn’t bad looking, but he lacked that certain something that set him apart from other men. He also got weekly manicures and played golf entirely too much for my taste. Bobby was, quite literally, the prototypical antagonist in a romance novel, not the muscle-bound hero to the damsel in distress. And though I looked like a Georgia peach with blonde hair and ivory skin, my taste in men ran darker, maybe even a little dangerous.

  Female laughter sounded through the walls and tweaked my last nerve. Closing my eyes for patience, I envisioned Devin and his girlfriend as he showed off his new office space. His touch would be whisper soft as he led her through the rooms, heightening her awareness of him. He’d also smile that wicked smile of his as she flirted and giggled in her increasingly irritating tone.

  When the low rumble of a male voice filtered through the wall, causing my heart to accelerate, my eyes popped open as a revelation broke to the surface. He’d eat me alive and leave me in a puddle of unrequited love.

  Devin Hawthorne may have been the prototypical protagonist in my personal romance novel. But I knew with certainty, as I listened to his sexy timber through the walls, I was not experienced enough to handle a man like that.

  “Did you hear me, sugar? I said I came to take you to lunch.”

  Turning to reply to Bobby’s invitation, I shook my head. “I have to wait for a shipment, then I have to attend a company picnic later in the day.”

  Bobby’s mouth pulled into a half-assed grin. “Sugar, if you’d just marry me, you could stop editin’ books for a livin’ and spend your days shoppin’ to your heart’s content.”

  Do nothing but shop? The thought caused a shiver.

  “Temptin’, Bobby, but I have bigger dreams for my life than spendin’ it shoppin’ for the perfect outfit.”

  He raised a surprised brow I had no doubt had been manscaped and tsked at me. “Calla Lily, you’re an Armstrong. You were born to shop.”

  “Don’t call me Calla Lily,” I bit out. “As for the ‘born to shop,’ that particular gene must have skipped a generation. Now, run along, Bobby. Go find yourself a perfect princess who doesn’t mind spendin’ her days in high heels, ‘cause you and I both know you’re only interested in me for my money.”

  Bobby threw a hand over his heart dramatically and stumbled back as if he’d been shot. “You wound me, Calla. I’m not just after your money. I would dearly love to get inside your pretty panties, too.”

  “Scoundrel! Reprobate,” I gasped, laughing. “Out!” Then I pointed toward the door.

  He bowed elegantly, grinning at my mock outrage, then sneaked a quick kiss on my cheek before leaving.

  “Spend my days shoppin’? No, thank you,” I grumbled as I watched him turn the corner to the alley and slide into his Mercedes coupé. “I’d rather roll around in the mud.”

  At that moment, Devin walked past the window with his girlfriend in tow as I watched Bobby drive away. When they climbed onto the back of a black Harley parked at the curb, I bit my lip to keep from groaning.

  The dreams I’d had over the years about that very scenario could fill a book.

  Baby steps, you ninny. Learn to walk before you run for your life.

  ✿✿✿

  “You know, Devin, when you said you were movin’ to Savannah, I didn’t think you’d do it. You’ve always been an adrenaline junkie, so I figured the slower pace here wouldn’t appeal to you,” Megan teased as she climbed off his bike.

  “Just because I dove from cliffs when we were kids doesn’t mean I’m an adrenaline junkie,” Devin chuckled low.

  Megan Hawthorne Pierce turned back, looked at his Harley, and raised a brow. “You, dear cousin, are the epitome of an adrenaline junkie. Fast cars in high school. Faster bikes as an adult. Not to mention carryin’ a gun and huntin’ bad guys for a livin’,” she chuckled. “Though, that bein’ said, I don’t think you’re prepared for what’s about to hit you. For once in your life, you may not be able to handle what’s comin’ your way.”

  Climbing off his Harley, Devin leaned against his cousin’s car and crossed his arms as a slow, devilish grin pulled across his mouth.

  “All right, I’ll bite. Tell me what’s comin’ my way that you don’t think I can handle.”

  “Oh, no. I think it will be more entertainin’ to watch it unfold.”

  Shaking his head slowly, Devin pushed off her Lexus. “I think after ten years on the force, four of those as a homicide detective, I can handle whatever Savannah throws my way.”

  Born and raised in a small town just outside of Atlanta, Devin was a typical Southern man who played hard and lived his life on his own terms. Those terms included taking risks that some wouldn’t.

  Growing up poor, Devin’s parents counted pennies to keep food on the table for their kids. He knew if he wanted more out of his life than a job at the tire factory like his father, he needed a degree. So he’d concentrated on his studies instead of chasing girls and was awarded a scholarship to the University of Georgia, where he earned a degree in criminal justice. But after years of dealing with bureaucratic red tape and watching criminals walk free, Devin had had enough and turned in his badge, opting for another way to help people find justice.

  He’d chosen Savannah to start over for two reasons. One, his best friend from college and his cousin lived here. And two, he could make a healthy living as a PI. Atlanta may have their rich and famous, but Savannah had their old money and secrets. Secrets they wanted to keep buried. And uncovering secrets was his specialty. So, after careful consideration, he’d decided Savannah was the perfect compromise to Atlanta.

  “Oh, I’m sure you can handle the criminals, but they’ve got nothin’ on the women of Savannah when a handsome man comes to town.”

  Devin’s blue eyes lit up with laughter, and he rolled his teeth between his lips.

  “Laugh it up, but you’ll be callin’ me for advice soon enough.”

  “I appreciate the offer to run interference. But I’ve got it covered.”

  “Hmm, maybe so,” she replied, tilting her head and eyeing him thoroughly. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I’m thinkin’ from the way you reacted to the blonde in the boutique window, the women of Savannah are too late.”

  Devin feigned innocence with a shrug. “I’m not lookin’ for a woman right now,” he replied in deflection. “My life is in upheaval, and the last thing I need is one complicatin’ it more,” he lied. He wasn’t about to ad
mit anything to his cousin, because she’d keep at him like a bloodhound after a rabbit. But she wasn’t wrong. When they’d rounded the corner and he’d seen the blonde balanced awkwardly on a ladder, something about her seemed familiar. He’d paused, intrigued by the beauty as a man entered the store, then watched with concern as shop girl lost her balance and fell. His immediate reaction had been to rush in, but her man had stepped in before he could move, pulling her into his arms.

  Then she turned around.

  When their eyes locked and held, a subtle current of attraction passed between them before her cat-like, blue eyes shied away from his in surprise. Unable to stop himself, he’d scanned her body from head to toe, biting his lip to keep from swearing in frustration. She was an adorable, sexy mess in faded jeans and flip-flops. The kind of mess that would have sent him straight into the store if she weren’t already taken by another man.

  “Earth to Devin.”

  Megan’s laughter-filled voice broke through his thoughts, and he asked, “What?”

  “I said, how about lettin’ me decorate your new office?”

  “I’ll think about it. But it’s the least of my worries right now.”

  “I already know exactly what it needs,” Megan carried on, ignoring him.

  Devin grabbed hold of her driver’s side door handle and opened it while she rattled on about leather chairs and antique oak desks. He kept his opinions to himself as she slid into her leather seat and buckled up. When she opened her mouth to continue, he’d heard enough. Pointing a finger at her, he ordered, “No antique desk.”

  “But they're all the rage right now.”

  “I don’t give a rat’s ass. Do I look like a man who would sit behind one?”

  “Devin, this is Savannah. We embrace that which is old.”

  “Jesus, Meg. What did I say?”

  Sighing, her lips twitched before she conceded. “I suppose Harley posters are more your style.”