The Great Escape (Wynette, Texas #7)(85)

He turned his smile into the facsimile of a leer. “You’re a hot number, babe. Hell on wheels when you’re naked, but a pain in the ass once you’ve got your clothes on. If you want real communication, pull down your pants.”

She blinked at his crudeness. His stomach twisted, but he was doing what he needed to. Still, he had to will himself not to take her into his arms and kiss the raindrops from her cheeks.

“Interesting.” She pushed her hood back and lifted her chin. “Keep your secrets, Panda. I really don’t care all that much.”

She disappeared, sending him into the foulest of moods.



THE SKIES CLEARED, AND LUCY let Toby talk her into going out with him on Big Mike Moody’s boat. The idea of spending the afternoon in the funk of his salesman’s cologne didn’t appeal to her, but it was better than stomping around the house.

Did Panda really believe she wouldn’t see through his crap—that calculated insult and ridiculous sneer? It was his way of reminding her to keep her distance, as if she needed a reminder. This affair was supposed to be another check mark on her reverse bucket list, but by holding on to his secrets, he’d made her do exactly what she didn’t want—think too much about him.

She forced a smile as she and Toby approached the roomy blue and white powerboat docked in the municipal harbor. Toby’s eyes shone with anticipation. “Permission to come aboard.”

“Permission granted.” Mike’s grin showcased his straight, gleaming teeth. He wore khaki shorts, a white Polo with a green logo, and boat shoes. Expensive Revo sunglasses hung by a strap around his tanned neck.

She’d traded her skank clothes for her black bathing suit and a white terry cover-up, but she’d kept her nose ring. He took the tote that held her sunblock, a towel, her ball cap, and some cookies she’d bought at the Painted Frog. Unfortunately, he also held out his hand to help her aboard, but the cologne pollution she remembered was noticeably absent, along with his gold bracelet and college ring.

“Glad you could come with us today, Miss Jorik.”

She was disappointed. “Bree told you who I was.”

“No. Remember how I said I never forget a face? It finally came to me a couple of weeks ago.” He gestured toward her dragon tattoo. “You’ve got a real good disguise going for you.”

Toby dashed to the stern to check out the fishing gear. She pulled her ball cap from her tote. “Nobody in town’s recognized me, so the news doesn’t seem to have spread.”

“I figured if you wanted people to know who you were,” he said earnestly, “you would have told them.”

His openness was refreshing, and she found herself warming to him.

Once the boat was out of the harbor, he let Toby take the wheel. Eventually they passed around the south end of the island. When they were closer to shore, Toby got his rod and began to cast, with Mike giving him pointers. Lucy went over the other side to swim and to not think about Panda.

The next few hours passed pleasantly, but the fish weren’t biting, and eventually Toby gave up and went in to swim himself. As Lucy lounged on the deck, she realized her initial impression of Mike had been wrong. He wasn’t a phony at all. Instead, this good-looking, gregarious salesman was one of those people who genuinely looked for the best in everyone, even the sixteen-year-old who’d rear-ended his Cadillac the previous week while texting his girlfriend. “All teenagers do stupid things,” he said as they bobbed at anchor while Toby snorkeled. “I sure did my share.”

She smiled. “You’re too good to be true.”

“Afraid not. Just ask Bree.”

She couldn’t come up with a polite way of saying that Bree never mentioned him, but Big Mike wasn’t quite as clueless as he seemed. “She hasn’t told you about me, has she?”

“Not really.”

He unzipped a soft-sided cooler he’d brought with him. “I grew up on this island. Except for college, I’ve lived here all my life.” They bounced on the wake of a passing speedboat. “My parents were drunks—couldn’t help themselves—and I was a big, clumsy island oaf with no idea how to make friends.” He took out a bag of sandwiches from the island deli and set it on a table built into the deck. “Bree was one of the summer kids. Every year I’d count the days until she and her brothers arrived. They were great guys, exactly the kind of kid I wanted to be. Always knew exactly what to say, always fit in. But mainly it was Bree I waited for.”

He pulled a bottle of sauvignon blanc from the cooler and picked up a corkscrew. “You should have seen her then, so full of life, always laughing, not tense and sad like she is now. Instead of walking from one place to another, she danced.” He pulled the cork. “Star, Toby’s mother, was supposed to be the most beautiful girl on the island, but when Bree was around, I couldn’t look at anybody else, even though I knew she was way too good for me.”

“She is not.” They hadn’t seen Toby climbing up the swim ladder that hung over the stern, the snorkel mask on top of his head.

“She’s had a hard time, Toby,” Mike said as he filled a plastic cup with wine and handed it to Lucy. “You need to look at things from her viewpoint.”

Toby jumped onto the deck, water dripping from his skinny frame. “She never stands up for you. I don’t know why you’re always sticking up for her.”