allpubescent boys for no reason at all and was embarrassing as hell. Sometimes it'd just happened when he wasdoing nothing more exciting than geometry or mowing the lawn.

But that summer, he'd taken one look at Daisy, and his body had reacted to the two very distinct reasons pressedagainst her T-shirt. His thoughts had dropped right to his crotch, and he'd gotten so hard he'd about passed outfrom lack of blood to his brain. She'd come over to tell him about her aunt's ranch, and while she was siftingthere beside him on his front porch, talking and laughing and filling him in on the horses she'd ridden, he wastrying not to stare at her tits. Yee-freakin'-ha!

That summer, he and Steven had known without exchanging words that each felt an attraction for her that wasno longer innocent. It was there between them. For the first time in their friendship, they had a real big problem.

One that wasn't going to be solved with an apology or an extra slug to equal things out.

Later they'd talked about it, about how they felt about Daisy. They decided that neither could have her. In orderto remain friends, they promised to keep their hands to themselves. Daisy was off limits. Jack had broken thatpromise, but Steven had ended up with her.

Chapter Four

The front door of the club swung open, and as if his thoughts had conjured her, Daisy stepped outside. Shesettled the little gold chain of her purse on her shoulder and glanced around as if she couldn't quite recall whereshe'd parked her car. Her gaze locked with his, and she stared at him across the distance. The light from thefront of the club lit half her face and left the rest in variegated shadow.

'Shay's going to throw her bouquet in a minute,' she said as if he'd asked. 'And I don't want to pretend to catchit.'

'You don't want to get married next?'

She shook her head and her hair brushed her shoulders.

He didn't ask why. He didn't want to give a shit. His gaze moved to her full breasts pressing against the redmaterial of her dress and down all those buttons on the side.

'This morning I was thinking about my first day at Lovett Elementary,' she said and took a step toward him.

'Do you remember that?'

He stood and looked back up into her face. 'No.'

Her red lips turned up at the corners. 'You told me my hair how was stupid.'

And shed burst into tears.

'My mama made me wear that dumb thing.'

He looked down into her face, with her smooth perfect skin, straight nose, and full red lips. She was as beautifulas she'd always been, maybe more so, and he was doing a really good job of feeling nothing. No anger. Nodesire. Nothing. 'What are you doing here?'

She took a step closer. If he reached out, he could touch her. Daisy's big eyes stared into his and she said, 'Shayinvited me to her reception this morning when I saw her buying a can of Aqua Net at Albertsons.'

That wasn't want he'd meant. 'Why are you in Lovett? Dredging up the past?'

She lowered her gaze to his chest but didn't answer.

'What do you want, Daisy?'

'I want to be friends.'

'Why, Jack?' She looked back up, her gaze searching his face. 'We were friends once.'

He laughed. 'Were we?'

She nodded. 'Yes.'

'I think we were more.'

'I know, but I mean friends like in before all that.'

'Before all that sex?'

He wasn't sure, but he thought she blushed. 'Yes.'

'And before you had sex with my best friend?' He folded his arms across his chest. Maybe he did feelsomething. Maybe he was a little more pissed off than he'd thought, because he said, 'Are you here to startthings up again? Continue right where we left off?'

She looked away. 'No.'

'I know I'm not supposed to flatter myself, but are you sure you don't want to tear one off in the back of mycar?' She shook her head, but he didn't stop. 'For old time's sake?'

Her gaze returned to his. 'Don't, Jack.' She raised her hand between them and pressed her fingers against hisups. 'Don't say any more.'

The touch of her fingers took him off guard. He caught the scent of perfume, but underneath that, he smelledher. Daisy. She might cover it with perfume and move away for fifteen years, but it hadn't changed. Even at theage of seventeen, when she'd worked at The Wild Coyote Diner; even beneath the scent of fried chicken andbarbeque, she'd always smelled like a warm summer breeze.

With her fingers pressed to his mouth, he stared at her for several long heartbeats. Sometimes he'd had to searchhard for the scent of her beneath the smell of all that grease, but he'd always found it. Usually in the crook ofher neck. He grabbed her wrist and took a step back. 'What do you want from me?'

'I told you. I want to he friends.'

There had to he more. 'We can never be friends.'

'Why?'

He let go of her wrist - 'You married my best friend.'

'You broke up with me.'

No, he'd told her he needed time to think. 'So, to get back at me, you married Steven.' It wasn't a question.

Rather a statement of fact.

She shook her head. 'You don't understand. It wasn't like that.'

It was exactly like that. 'You and I were lovers. We were doing it every which way to Sunday. Then you up andmarried my best friend the same week I buried my parents. What part did I get wrong?' Through the darknesshe watched a crease draw her brows together.

'The timing was real bad.'

Bitter laughter clogged his chest. 'Yeah.'

'I'm sorry Jack.' She looked sorry, too.

He didn't care. 'Don't be. It all worked out for the best.'

'I came back because I have to talk to you.'

There was absolutely nothing she had to say that he wanted to hear. 'Save your breath, Daisy,' he said as hewalked past her toward the bridge separating the entrance from the parking lot.

'It's the reason I'm here,' she called after him.

'Then you've wasted your time.'

'Don't make me chase you.'

That stopped him and he looked back at her. Her hands were on her hips, and although he couldn't see herfeatures clearly, he could feel her gaze on him, staring him down. It was like looking at the old Daisy.

'I'm trying to be nice about this, but you really don't have a choice. You're going to listen to me; and if you getugly like you said, I'll become your worst dang nightmare.'

Damn, but she was the old Daisy. All hot temper and feisty belligerence wrapped up in such a soft girlypackage. He almost smiled. Almost.

'Too late, buttercup,' he said as he turned to go. 'You became my worst nightmare years ago.'

* * *

Daisy hung her dress in the closet, pulled the red slip over her head, and put on her short nightgown. Then shewashed her face. It was a little after ten, and her mother was already asleep.

She sat on the edge of her bed and dialed her son in Seattle. It was only eight in Washington; she was sure thatNathan was still up.

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