Whole Again (Hometown Hero's Book 1) Read online

  Vicki looked over at Sara and bit her lip. They both put their hands into the air. “Sorry, officers,” they said.

  A particularly fluffy feather landed on Vicki’s nose. Her eyes crossed as she looked at it and then puffed it into the air. Sara snickered beside her.

  The biggest guard puffed out his chest. “Ladies, you are going to have to pay for the damages here, you know.”

  Vicki rushed forward. “Of course, officer. We just got into a little tiff. Let me give you my information, and you can send the bill to me.” Vicki scribbled down her name, address and telephone number.

  “I am not poor, you know,” Sara grumbled.

  Vicki smiled brightly and handed the guard her information, muttering out of the corner of her mouth, “Can it, Beaumont. It was my pillow that broke and decorated the store.”

  The guard continued. “That’s fine, ma’am, but I’m afraid we are going to have to ask you to leave as well.”

  “What?” Vicki sputtered.

  “We are going to escort you outside after these issues are resolved.”

  “You’re booting us?” Sara folded her arms.

  “Yes, not to put too delicate a point on it.”

  Vicki gripped Sara’s arm. “It’s okay, officer. We’ll go willingly.”

  They walked out into the afternoon sunshine and sat on the curb.

  Sara stretched out her legs while Vicki brushed feathers out of her hair. A minute passed. Then another.

  Vicki said, “Did you know we just got kicked out of Kohl’s?”

  Sara’s mouth twitched. “How about that?”

  “I’m pretty sure they’re going to ban us, too.”

  “First time I ever got banned from someplace. And I did it with a princess.”

  Vicki snuck a peak at Sara. Sara winked, and they both started laughing like loons.

  “You know what else?” Sara said.

  “No, what?” Vicki asked.

  “We still need dresses.”

  Vicki squealed and clapped her hands. “That’s perfect. Maybe we can get tossed out of Macy’s next.”

  “Oh, to have goals.”

  Eight

  That night, Vicki took extra-long with her toilet. She’d broken down and gone to the salon to get a blowout and took Sara right along with her. Vicki’s locks were freshly styled but tousled enough to look casual—like she hadn’t gone to the salon. She had discreet gold hoops in her ears. A delicate bracelet draped her wrist. Miles of cleavage peeked out of the deep V of her clingy, red handkerchief dress, and her makeup was perfect. Now the key was to not chew off her lipstick. The kitty had already been banned into the bathroom since she really liked the hem of her skirt.

  Vicki paced and shook out her hands. The thought of food made her stomach churn with anxiety. Left, right, left, right. I can do this. She stopped before the mirror again and adjusted the girls a little bit in the built-in bra. No bra straps showing for her, thank you very much.

  She twirled back around and glanced at the clock. This was horrible. She was thirty minutes early and getting more anxious by the minute. It was just a date, right? With the guy she had daydreamed about since she was twelve. The man who rescued her from David as a teen. The guy who starred in most of her daydreams. The guy whose name she wrote with hers throughout school—Mrs. Vicki Lawrence—and circled with little hearts. Her right hand clenched her stomach while she bent and put her face between her knees. No reason to be nervous.

  God. She picked up her phone and called her grandmother. “Joonie?”

  Her grandmother’s voice crackled down the phone lines. “That you, Vee? Shouldn’t you be getting ready?”

  “I am ready early. What the hell do I do now? I am going to be a wreck by the time he gets here!” She went and sat on the couch, hugged the mutilated pillow against her chest.

  “Phhtt, relax, june bug. It will be all right. Do you have the condoms ready?”

  “Grams!” Vicki exclaimed, sitting upright and staring at the phone.

  “I am just saying. This is the twenty-first century. A girl’s got to protect herself.”

  “What about save yourself for love? Didn’t you used to say that to me?”

  “That was then. This is now. Plus, you were with that Watters boy. I always hated him. Slimy prick.”

  “Grams!”

  “Grams, grams. Look at you being all scandalized. Though I will say this, a baby between you and John would be adorable. Freaking perfection. Forget the condoms. Though the boy was a marine. Definitely use the condoms until he’s tested. Or at least remember to ask about those things. It is important to do that nowadays.”

  “This is our first date. I’m sure it won’t come up.”

  “Pity.”

  Laughter spilled out. Vicki buried her face in the pillow then quickly pulled back and made sure she hadn’t left any marks. “Grams, you’re awful.”

  “And you are, too, sweet baby girl. Make sure that boy takes care of you.”

  “I’m sure he will. He always did. He used to make sure that no one pestered Sara and me in the school yard. He never talked much then, at least to me.”

  “Ah. Sweet. He sounds like a good boy. And his body is smoking. You play your cards right, and you could be getting some tonight.”

  Vicki covered her face, cheeks burning, a huge smile twisting her lips. “Grams!”

  “Do you know any other words?”

  *****

  John fiddled with his tie. It didn’t seem straight. He undid the knot and started over, flipping the loose end. Afterward, he strode to the kitchen and checked the clock. Fifteen minutes. He contemplated the flowers the moms insisted he buy for the night. Roses would have been presumptuous, apparently. Maybe he should have gotten carnations. What if she was allergic? He could have gotten her chocolates or maybe a card. Was that too impersonal? Jesus. How did guys do this? Dating was intolerable. No wonder he stuck to the women at the bar. They knew the score. Good girls took effort.

  He went back the way he came and stopped when he saw the picture tacked to the calendar in the hallway.

  Sara must have put it up that night she helped me unpack.

  Like all the other little touches she’d added around the room while he was at Flick’s. John didn’t know who took the picture, but the photo showed all of them after some sort of football game behind the bleachers. John stood next to Brae, with Sara on his other side. Flick was next to her making bunny ears behind her back. It had been their hideout and refuge during the day. If anyone skipped a class or ditched a day, they ended up there waiting for the others. Countless dreams were discussed, hopes questioned, plans made in those stands. Too bad the school tore them down a few years later. Safety risk, his ass. They’d climbed those bars like monkeys when they were younger.

  The sight of his friends, his family grounded him. No matter what happened, they were there for one another. Thick or thin.

  Probably why Sara put it there, the sneaky bitch.

  Calmed, John grabbed the flowers and checked the clock.

  Go time.

  ***

  Vicki checked the time yet again. 7:59. Not that she was counting the minutes. Nope, not her. She trotted over to the couch and bounced on the cushions, scooting one of the pillows in place. He would be here any second now. Any second.

  A knock sounded at the door. Vicki bolted to get it, her fingers sliding down her skirt. She paused to catch her breath then opened the door. John waited outside holding a bouquet of white daisies in his hands. He wore a navy pinstripe suit that hugged his lean frame with a white button-down shirt and a maroon tie. Classic, perfect. Her heart thudded. She was never going to get used to the effect seeing him had on her. It had never been this way with anyone else.

  Vicki felt a smile spread across her face. “Hi. Are those for me?”

  He held out the blooms with a flourish. “Yes, they reminded me of you.”

  “Thank you! They’re beautiful. Did you know daisies are my favorite flowe
r? They always seem so cheery and open and abundant.” She lifted her shoulders. “I don’t know. I like them.” And she was babbling. Stupid, stupid, stupid. She held out the door and stepped back, leading the way to the kitchen.

  The room seemed smaller and more feminine with its lace hand towels and kissing pig cookie jars. She resisted the urge to throw a towel over the three pink porcine figures in short little skirts. Their exaggerated smiles always made her grin in the mornings when she brewed her coffee, but seeing them here, seeing everything through John’s eyes, made her inexplicably nervous. She filled a vase with water and put the daisies in, spreading them out and playing with the stems.

  John braced his shoulder on the doorjamb inside the kitchen. “I hoped they were your favorites. I remember you used to pick the daisies in the field next to school. You ignored all the other flowers.”

  Vicki felt her cheeks heat; she leaned her butt on the counter facing him. “You remember that. That’s pretty good.” John dipped his head as Vicki continued. “Want to know what I remember? I remember John Lawrence standing nearby and keeping the bullies away. Your eyes had this way of scanning everything around you. Like you were taking everything in. Even then, there was something about you that kept people from giving you a hard time. Remember Billy Mies?”

  “I do. He tried to set your hair on fire.” John snorted and walked over to run a finger along a white petal, the side of his leg brushing hers.

  Her nervousness increased tenfold at having him so close. Vicki gulped and turned, shifting closer, her knee grazing his. “You ran up to him and growled. I think the boy wet himself.” They both grinned. “And I remember you were awesome at soccer. Do you still play?”

  John’s smile appeared to slip a second. He glanced back at the flowers. “No, I don’t play soccer anymore. We should head out; the reservation is for eight thirty.”

  And moment over.

  “Okay.” Vicki stifled her disappointment and grabbed her wrap. She slipped it across her shoulders and walked ahead of him out the door.

  His hands skimmed her arms, causing goose bumps to race down her spine. She glanced at him over her shoulder. He smiled and claimed her left hand. Her fingers tangled with his. Her other hand fluttered down his arm as they walked out the door. “You obviously keep in shape, John. What do you do?”

  “I jog and do weights. Lots of weights.” His eyes tracked down her body in the dress. She felt her skin tingle in their wake. “What about you? What do you do to keep in shape?”

  “I Zumba.” She swiveled her hips.

  John’s hand clenched on hers, his eyes heated while he tracked her hips rocking. “That’s the dance exercise one?”

  “Yep. I also do some pole dancing.”

  John blinked, stumbled on the steps, and hit the railing. His eyes rose from their trajectory down south, his stunned expression gratifying to her inner girlie girl. “Wait, what? You pole dance?”

  Vicki couldn’t stop her giggle. “I exercise with a pole, yes.”

  His throat worked, and he tugged at his suit jacket. “I would like to see that one day.”

  “Play your cards right, and you will.” Vicki grinned at her own boldness.

  ****

  Vicki looked amazing. Not just good—freaking perfect with her smoky eyes and all that smooth skin. He had to stifle the desire to grab her close as soon as she opened the door. But he’d been good. Up until the pole-dancing comment. Then he couldn’t get the image of her sliding around a pole like a limber leprechaun out of his head, and he tripped. His leg throbbed. He might have hurt the stump. Wouldn’t that be great? He ignored the pain and worked to keep his gait smooth. He would need to check it soon. Make sure there were no sores. Damn it, the night was going so well, too. Once they got to the restaurant, he’d have to excuse himself. At least it was a fancy place. Sitting on the toilet in the Hanger would have been a bit more awkward. John opened Vicki’s door, then limped as little as possible to his own. As soon as he was off his feet, John’s leg felt better. He let out a breath.

  John shifted and winked at her. “Ready?”

  Vicki sat with her back against the door facing him, seat belt buckled tight. “Ready. So now will you tell me where we’re going?”

  “Nope, I want it to be a surprise. Hopefully you will like it.” Dear God, for what it was going to cost him, he prayed she liked it. But she was definitely worth it. A lady.

  Vicki reached out and touched his hand on the stick shift. “I’m sure I will.” John turned his hand over to squeeze hers before backing out of his space.

  The ride took about fifteen minutes and passed in silence. John took Vicki’s hand back and ran his thumb along her palm as he drove. Vicki smiled and rested her head back, watching the landscape flash past on her side. They drove up the secluded path to Ruth’s Chris.

  John followed his instincts and raised her fingers to his mouth. His lips brushed her knuckles lightly. Her eyelashes fluttered. Big, beautiful, soulful brown eyes stared into his. He felt a quick punch in the gut. “We’re here.”

  She blinked and looked around, then nodded at his choice. “Ruth’s Chris. Nice. I felt like a steak tonight.”

  John let his satisfaction show on his face. “Good.”

  He got out and went around the car to open her door, then held out his elbow for her. They walked into the restaurant arm in arm, and he never felt so fucking proud. The hottest girl in the place wanted to be here with him. Hot damn.

  The maître d’ greeted them at the door. “Hello. Do you have a reservation?”

  “John Lawrence.”

  “Excellent. Your booth will be ready in one moment, sir. If you would like, take a seat at the bar.”

  John motioned for Vicki to walk ahead of him so he could enjoy the sway of her ass. He was one step behind her when she stopped on a dime.

  Nine

  Seriously, things were going so well, then David had to rear his ugly head. Vicki sighed and stopped when she sighted him sitting at the bar with some bleached-blonde bimbo draped across his lap. Wait, she knew that bimbo. That was Bitty, her “old friend,” the one who had asked for David’s number after her divorce. That figured.

  David whispered something in Bitty’s ear, and she trailed her hand down his thigh. In public. How classy. She couldn’t believe she’d ever been married to him. It seemed like a lifetime ago. David’s head rose from his companion’s neck. His gaze passed over her and then flashed back. He straightened, and his lips turned upward. He rose from his stool and waved. Bitty straightened and turned to look where David was staring.

  David’s eyes flickered behind her, and his smile dimmed and became a little less pleasant.

  Vicki’s heart sank.

  Please don’t let him make a scene like he did six months ago. Please.

  She felt John’s hand rest along the small of her lower back, boosting her and disconcerting her at the same time. She resisted the urge to rub against his palm.

  “Is everything okay, Vicki?” John asked.

  Vicki angled backward to whisper, “Sorry. My ex is at the bar. Do you mind waiting at the entrance?”

  John’s lips curled. Distaste colored his response. “David. Sure. I have no problem not running into David Watters. How did you end up with him anyway?”

  She so didn’t want to go there. “Long and unpleasant story. Let’s just say my parents pushed me into it. And it took me a long time to grow a spine.”

  John smiled and ran his hand along said spine as he turned her back to the waiting room. “Better late than never.”

  The maître d’ met them at the front. “Your table is ready. Follow me.”

  Vicki glanced back at the bar long enough to see David watching their progress.

  Please don’t let him come over here. Please, please, please.

  John held out her chair for her when they sat. The waiter appeared promptly next to their table. “Welcome. Would I be able to get you something to drink?”

  “Water, p
lease,” Vicki said.

  “Same. What are the specials?” John asked.

  Before the waiter could respond, David’s voice cut through the din. “The beef is excellent. This is a steak house after all.”

  Shit.

  Vicki spun in her seat.

  John put down his napkin. “David.”

  A smirk crossed David’s face. “John.”

  Bitty walked up behind David and waved. “And I’m Belinda.”

  Vicki would be darned if she would say her name out loud as if they were all strangers. “Hi, everyone. Is there something I can help you guys with? We were sitting down to eat.”

  David tugged at his cuff links. “We were hoping to join you for dinner.”

  Like hell.

  As if John had heard her thoughts, he stated the same thing.

  David grinned. “I didn’t ask you, grunt.”

  John vaulted to his feet and moved to confront David. “What did you just call me?”

  “I called you a grunt. Do you have a problem with that? No innocents to kill here, marine.”

  The waiter looked shocked and motioned to the maître d’.

  Wow. “David, shut up,” Vicki hissed.

  John growled and got in David’s smirking face.

  Vicki placed herself between the two men. “This is stupid, guys. David go back to your, err, date, and leave us be, why don’t you?”

  David grabbed the hand that she’d placed on his chest and used it to tug her against him. “Hey there, Vivi, why don’t you return my calls?”

  Huh.

  That was friendly of him. And was that whiskey on his breath? He’d never used to be a drinker. What was up with that? She tugged her hand free. “I don’t answer because we are divorced, David. Stop.”

  John shoved David’s shoulder. David staggered into a nearby table, making their glasses topple. The other diners glared. Vicki flushed. This was going to get ugly. David swung to face John after he righted himself.

  Bitty giggled and placed her hand delicately on David’s shoulder. “Boys, no reason to get feisty now.”

  David shrugged her hand off.

  John growled. “Stay away from Vicki.”