Tucker scrubbed his hands over his face and wished Edda Lou would just disappear. That she would pay for that ugly scene in the diner where she'd made him look worse than he was. If he could just think of a way, he'd…
He heard a rustle in the leaves and swung toward it. If Edda Lou had followed him, she was going to find him not only ready to fight, but eager.
When Caroline stepped into the clearing, she muffled a scream. There, in the shady spot where she'd once fished with her grandfather, was a man, golden eyes hard as agate, fists clenched, mouth pulled back dangerously in something between a snarl and a sneer.
She looked around desperately for a weapon, then realized she'd have to depend on herself.
'What are you doing here?'
Tucker shucked off the tough shell as quickly as he might have peeled off his shirt.
'Just watching the water.' He flashed her a quick, self-deprecating smile that was supposed to signal he was harmless. 'I didn't expect to run across anyone.'
The taut and ready stance had relaxed into idleness. But Caroline was not convinced he was harmless. His voice was smooth, with that lazy drawl that could so easily be mocking. Though his eyes were smiling at her, there was such melting sexuality in them that she was ready to run if he so much as leaned toward her.
'Who are you?'
'Tucker Longstreet, ma'am. I live just down the road. I'm trespassing.' Again that 'don't worry about a thing' smile. 'Sorry if I gave you a turn. Miss Edith didn't mind if I wandered in here to sit, so I didn't think to stop by the house and ask. You
'Yes.' She found her own stiff answer rude in the face of his country manners. To soften it, she smiled, but didn't lose that reserved, tensed stance. 'You startled me, Mr. Longstreet.'
'Oh, just make that Tucker.' Smiling, he took her measure. A tad too thin, he thought, but she had a face as pale and elegant as the cameo his mama had worn on a black velvet ribbon. Usually he preferred long hair on a woman, but the short style suited her graceful neck and huge eyes. He tucked his thumbs in his pockets. 'We're neighbors, after all. We tend to be friendly 'round Innocence.'
This one, she thought, could charm the bark off a tree. She'd known another like him. And whether the words were delivered in a southern drawl or a Spanish lilt, they were deadly.
She nodded-regally, he thought.
'I was just taking a look around the property,' she continued. 'I didn't expect to come across anyone.'
'It's a pretty spot. You settling in all right? If you need anything, all you have to do is holler.'
'I appreciate that, but I think I can manage. I've been here only an hour or so.'
'I know. I passed you coming in, on my way to town.'
She started to come up with another bland response, then her eyes narrowed. 'In a red Porsche?'
This time his grin was slow and wide and devastating. 'She's a beauty, huh?'
It was Caroline who stepped forward, eyes hot. 'You irresponsible idiot, you must have been doing ninety.'
She'd gone from being fragile and lovely to downright beautiful with that flush of heat in her cheeks. Tucker kept his thumbs in his pockets. He'd always figured if you couldn't avoid a woman's temper, you might as well enjoy it.
'Nope. As I recollect, I was just coming up on eighty. Now, she'll do a hundred and twenty in a good straightaway, but-'
'You almost hit me.'
He seemed to consider the possibility, then shook his head. 'No, I had plenty of time to swing around. Probably looked closer from your point of view, though. I sure am sorry for giving you a scare twice in the same day.' But the glitter in his eyes had nothing to do with apology. 'Mostly I try to have a different effect on a pretty woman.'
If there was one thing Caroline's mother had pounded into her head, it was dignity. She caught herself before she could sputter. 'You have no business being on the road at all. I should report you to the police.'
All that Yankee indignation tickled him. 'Well, you can do that all right, ma'am. You call into town and ask for Burke. That's Burke Truesdale. He's the sheriff.'
'And your cousin, no doubt,' she said between her teeth.
'No, ma'am, though his baby sister did marry a second cousin of mine.' If she assumed he was a southern rube, he'd oblige. 'They moved across the river into Arkansas. My cousin? That's Billy Earl LaRue. He's on my mama's side. He and Meggie-that's Burke's baby sister-they run one of those storage places. You know, where people store furniture or cars or whatever by the month? Doing right well, too.'
'I'm delighted to hear it.'
'That's neighborly of you.' His smile was as slow and easy as the water beside him. 'You be sure to tell Burke I said hey when you talk to him.'
Though he was taller by several inches, Caroline managed to look down her nose at him. 'I think we both know it would do very little good. Now, I'll thank you to get off my property, Mr. Longstreet. And if you want to sit and watch the water again, find someplace else to do it.'
She turned and had taken two steps before Tucker's voice-and dammit, it was mocking-called out to her. 'Miz Waverly? Welcome to Innocence. Y'all have a nice day now, you hear?'
She kept walking. And Tucker, being a prudent man, waited until he figured she was out of earshot before he started to laugh.
If he weren't up to his neck in quicksand, he'd enjoy teasing that pretty Yankee on a regular basis. Damn if she hadn't made him feel better.
Edda Lou was primed and ready. She'd been worried that she'd botched things by going on a rampage after she heard Tucker had taken that bitch Chrissy Fuller over to Greenville to dinner and the movies. But for once, it seemed, her temper had worked in her favor. That scene in the diner, and her public humiliation of Tucker, had brought him around as surely as a brass ring through his nose.
Oh, it could be that he'd try to sweet-talk her into letting him off the hook. Tucker Longstreet had the smoothest tongue in Bolivar County. But he wasn't going to waggle himself loose with it this time. She was going to have a ring on her finger and a marriage license in her hand quick as a lick. She'd wipe the smug look off every face in Innocence when she moved into the big house.
And she, Edda Lou Hatinger, who'd grown up on a dirt farm with dusty chickens squawking in the yard and the smell of pork grease forever in the kitchen, would wear fine clothes and sleep in a soft bed and drink French champagne for breakfast.
She had a fondness for Tucker, and that was the truth. But she had more room in her thirsty heart for his house, his name, and his bank account. And when she swept into Innocence, she'd do it in a long pink Caddy. There'd be no more working the register at Larsson's, no more scraping pennies together so she could keep her room at the boardinghouse instead of living at home where her daddy would as soon smack her as look at her sideways.
She'd be a Longstreet.
Weaving her fantasies, she pulled her rattletrap '75 Impala to the side of the road. She didn't question the fact that Tucker's note had asked her to meet him back at the pond. She found it sweet. Edda Lou had fallen in love-as much as her avaricious heart would allow-because Tucker was so downright romantic. He didn't grab and grope like some of those who sidled up to her at McGreedy's. He didn't always want to get right into her pants either, like most of the men she dated.
No, Tucker liked to talk. And though half the time she didn't know what in the blue blazes he was talking about, still she appreciated the courtesy.
And he was generous with presents. Bottles of perfume, bunches of posies. Once, when they'd had a spat, she'd made herself cry buckets. That had landed her a genuine silk nightie.
Once they were married, she'd have herself a whole drawerful if she wanted. And one of those American Express credit cards to buy them with.
The moon was full enough, so she didn't bother with a flashlight. She didn't want to spoil the mood. She fluffed her long blond hair, then tugged her skinny tank top down until her ripe breasts all but spilled over the edge. Her hot-pink shorts cut into her crotch a bit, but she figured the effect was worth it.
