Mary Baxter - Tempting Janey

Dillon merely grinned, knowing that her threat was empty. She loved for him and everyone else to compliment her cooking, especially her bread. She was known for that specialty all over town.

But then, Allie was known for a lot. She lived to entertain. She enjoyed people, and they enjoyed her. At thirty-eight, two years his junior, her face was still relatively unlined, although she had prematurely gray hair that she didn’t bother to color.

Like him, she was tall and rawboned. Yet her height and build didn’t make her less attractive. Her vibrant blue eyes and ready smile made for a charming combination.

He loved her dearly and couldn’t imagine his life without her, since he had no other family. Their parents had died in a freak auto accident a long time ago. Since then, they had stuck together.

That was why those dark circles under her eyes and that pinched look around her mouth, visible in the light, gave him cause for concern.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

She made light of his inquiry. “Of course I’m okay. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“You tell me,” he said, not quite ready to let her off the hook.

“I might be coming down with the same virus that struck the office.”

“As long as that’s all it is.”

“Stop nagging,” she chastised in a light tone. “You’re worse than some old woman. A lot worse than Mike, and he’s bad enough.”

Dillon laughed. “All right, you win. For now. So where’s that bread?”

“Have you had dinner?” she asked, facing him from in front of the cabinet.

“Nope, but I’m not hungry—except for a huge piece of that bread.”

“I’ll be glad to heat you a plate of peas and corn bread.”

Dillon eased down into one of the kitchen chairs. “Thanks, but I’ll pass tonight. Just the bread, ma’am.”

A few minutes later, he was rubbing his stomach and grinning at his sister, who was staring at him over the rim of her coffee cup.

“Well?” she asked.

He reached for his cup of decaf and took a sip. “Well what?”

“Jerk,” she muttered.

He laughed out loud. “All right, it was the best yet. But then, you know that.”

“It’s nice to hear it, anyway.”

“By the way, where’s Mike?”

Allie made a face. “It’s Wednesday, remember? He’s playing poker with his buddies.” She paused and gave him a pointed look. “I wish you had someone to hang out with.”

“I’ve been at the school,” Dillon said, intentionally ignoring her last provocative statement.

“Why am I not surprised?”

Dillon told her about the break-in.

“Did it ever occur to you that you could’ve gotten hurt?” Her tone was incredulous.

“That was the least of my worries. I just wanted to catch the little shits.”

She let out a deep sigh. “I wish you worked as hard on perfecting your personal life as you do on that school.”

“Now, Allie, don’t start,” he said, taking another sip of coffee.

She went on as if he hadn’t said a word. “Are you still seeing Patricia Sims?”

Dillon curbed his impatience, but barely. “Actually, I’m taking her out Saturday evening. It’s her birthday.”

“Well glory hallelujah.”

“But don’t get your hopes up, sister dear. She’s just a friend and will never be anything else.”

Allie threw up her hands in dramatic fashion. “I give up. You’re hopeless.”

“Hey, I’m happy with things just the way they are.”

“I don’t believe that. It’s time you were interested in another woman, for heaven’s sake. It’s been three years since Elaine’s death.”

Dillon didn’t respond right off, thinking that if Allie only knew what a disaster his marriage had turned out to be, she wouldn’t be pushing him in that direction again. But she didn’t know, and to tell her now would serve no purpose.

He marveled that his dirty little secret had remained just that. In a town this size, he couldn’t believe Allie hadn’t been bombarded with the truth. He suspected the reason for that oversight was that she and Mike had only recently moved back to Hunter. Mike had worked for an oil-drilling company in Texas until he’d gotten hurt and had to quit.

“I know you’d like to have a child. Lord knows, you and Elaine tried hard enough. If I recall, she miscarried twice.”

He made an effort not to wince visibly. But every time that subject was mentioned, it was like someone had scratched the scab off an old wound, leaving it raw and oozing again. “You’re right, I would like to have a child, but not enough to remarry.”

“Oh, Dillon, I hate to hear you talk like that. You have so much to offer a woman.”

He gave her a halfhearted smile. “You’re just biased.”

“Maybe a little, but—”

“Hey, give it a rest, will you? Like I said, I’m content with my life. I have my eye on being a superintendent one day, plus I have the farm, which I’m determined to turn into a profitable business—with Mike’s help, of course.”

He paused and reached for Allie’s hand, giving it a squeeze. “So you see, you don’t have to worry. I’m fine.”

“What you are is hardheaded,” she said, withdrawing her hand and getting to her feet. “I’ll send some bread home with you.”

He stood. “Is that a hint to leave?”

“Of course not, silly,” she said with a grin. “But it’s either do something constructive with my hands or slug you.”

He chuckled. “I’d best be going, then. Anyhow, I need my rest. The rest of this week and next is shaping up to be a killer, what with football season officially starting and the break-in to sort out.”

“I hope you find out who’s responsible.”

“Let’s just hope it doesn’t turn out to be gang related. I’ve been lucky so far.”

Allie shivered. “Kids are not like they used to be.”

“You got that right.”

They walked arm in arm to the door, where Allie handed him his doggie bag. He thanked her, then kissed her on the cheek.

He was almost to his vehicle when she said, “By the way, don’t forget to pick up a box of candy or some flowers for Patricia.”

He narrowed his eyes. “You just don’t know when to give up, do you?”

She flashed him a smile. “No, brother dear, I don’t.”

Dillon simply snorted.

What a day.

Janey Mayfield rubbed the back of her neck, then peered at the clock behind the counter in her candy shop, Sweet Dreams. Almost closing time. Thank heaven for small favors, she thought, as she began making preparations to reverse the Open sign in the window.

What was wrong with her? The answer popped readily to mind. She was tired, but then, she had a right to be. In the month since she’d returned to South Carolina, her world had been turned upside down again. She’d had to adjust to another new home and a new career, that of a businesswoman who now owned and operated her own shop. At thirty-seven, that was no easy feat.

Often Janey felt as if she were on a treadmill that wouldn’t stop and let her get off, even for a minute.

Yet she wasn’t complaining. Her eyes surveyed the premises. This delightful shop, filled with the fanciest to the plainest of candies, was all hers, thanks to the generosity of her aunt Lois, who had chosen to retire to an assisted living facility in Savannah after suffering a stroke.

Even so, repairs of all sorts needed to be done, both upstairs and down. But they would have to wait. There was simply no money to make them.

Despite her problems, though, she had so much to be grateful for. After getting her teenage daughter Robin up and off to school, Janey always looked forward to dressing, walking downstairs to the smell of candy, chatting with her customers, then ringing up their sales.