The Yellow Rose Beauty Shop (Cadillac, Texas #3)(72)

“Lord, you are almost as ornery as Agnes.” Piper giggled softly.

“Well, thank you, honey.” Rosalee beamed.



The window was unlatched. The door was locked. Music played. But Stella was in bed alone and she couldn’t sleep. She rolled to one side and checked the clock.

It was early and she hadn’t heard from Jed, so he might still show up. He had called the night before and said he had to sit with an elderly member of the church in the hospital. Two nights in a row wasn’t fair, not when they’d found the perfect place.

In plain sight couldn’t be beat. So far folks didn’t seem to be interested in what Preacher Jed was doing out jogging around town in the early morning and late night hours. They were too busy spying on Stella.

She slapped his pillow down over her face and inhaled deeply, filling her lungs with air and the remnants of his cologne. It just made her miss him all the more. She held the pillow up and imagined that it was his face with the angles, his definite jawline, firm but sexy lips, and those lines in his cheeks when he smiled.

“I’m so much in love,” she muttered.

The rising window made a slight noise but she’d imagined hearing that all evening, so she didn’t believe that he was there until he sat down on the edge of the bed. She squealed and threw herself into his arms.

“It’s true,” he said.

“What, that I love you?”

He kissed her on the tip of the nose. “No, that absence makes the heart grow fonder.”

“I hate sleeping alone,” she said.

She took his hand and wiggled out of his embrace. “I have a surprise.”

“Is it edible? I’m starving.”

“No, but I’ll go to the kitchen and get you something,” she said.

“I’ll need energy to do what I’ve got planned for tonight,” he whispered. “Are you going to wrap yourself in something from Bless My Bloomers?”

She led him to the chest of drawers and opened the middle drawer. “Something far simpler than that. You are now the proud owner of your very own drawer, darlin’.”

He picked her up and carried her back to the bed. “I’ve changed my mind about food.”

“I don’t mind making you a sandwich,” she said. “Are you disappointed?”

“No, I’m amazed. That is the best present you’ve ever given me. If I have a drawer, it means we are a step closer to being a real married couple. I want to make love to you until the sun comes up, Stella.”

The laughter that bubbled up from her soul was soft and sweet. “I love you and yes, we are a step closer and I’m getting used to the idea of being a preacher’s wife, but I still want to wait until after this blasted ball is over, if you don’t mind.”

He sat down on the edge of the bed with her in his lap. “We can wait that long as long as I have a drawer and can hold you in my arms. Have I told you today that you are beautiful?”

“I haven’t seen you today,” she reminded him.

He slipped her gray tank top up over her head and kissed the hollow spot in her neck. “You didn’t get my telepathic messages? I sent one every ten minutes while you were at the shower and since you’ve been home.”

“So that’s what my heart was hopping around about all day,” she mumbled just before her lips met his.

“Stella, we need to talk,” he said.

“About?” Her blood ran cold. Surely Annabel hadn’t thought she was pregnant and was spreading more tales.

“About this dark cloud hovering over your head. I want us to get it out in the open and”—he paused—“I need to get my past out, dust it off, and be honest about it, too. We should have done it before we married, but I was afraid I’d lose you.”

“You first,” she said.

“Okay. Baring souls and confession time, and then we’ll put it all in the past and not visit it again. But when you meet the folks where I grew up, I don’t want anything they say to ruin our marriage.” He kissed her on the forehead.

“What could you have possibly done that was worse than my past?” she asked.

He toyed with a strand of her hair. “I was as wild as a tornado when I was young.”

“So was I, especially after the preacher’s son ruined my name.” She touched his face.

“I was that preacher’s son,” Jed said.

“No, you weren’t,” she argued.

“My father was not a preacher, but I was just like that boy. The first time I had a girl, I went to school and bragged about it. Her reputation was ruined and we were both only fifteen. I didn’t even learn my lesson then, either. I smoked. I drank. I didn’t do drugs because I was afraid my daddy would kill me for that, but he lived by the old rule—boys will be boys and they have a different set of rules than girls. I made it my business to sweet-talk lots of pretty girls into the backseat of my old car.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she asked.

“Because when we go home to visit, folks are going to say things and I want you to know now,” he told her. “Your past isn’t nearly as bad as mine, so you need to let it go and forget about the gossip that this town hangs on to.”

“You’re not fixin’ to tell me that you have AIDS or children hiding in your past, are you?” she asked.