Read Online The Dixie Belle's Guide to Love by Luanne Jones - Free Book Online
Authors: Luanne Jones
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tell you to pull your swelled head out of your behind before Mama gets over here.”
“Mama?”
“She’s on her way, too.”
The plates crashing into the suds covered the worst of his low-from-the-gut cussing. He strode to the doorway between the dining area and kitchen and hit Jillie with a glare, his lips stiff. “How the hell did she find out I was here?”
His sister toyed with the empty napkin holder. “One of her ladies saw your car.”
“Round here we call them Miss Peggy’s Secret Service.” Rita put a hand to her hip. Her dark eyes lit up.
He suspected she felt some sort of affection or some such nonsense for his mother and the Retired Junior League gossip brigade. “They know all the secrets and consider it a service to let your mother in on them.”
He cursed again.
Rita laughed.
He gave her a look that made hardened workmen shut their mouths and drop their gazes from his.
“Smile, Will, company’s coming!” Her dimples betrayed how much she enjoyed seeing him in the same fix as her.
He clenched his jaw.
“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes now.” Jillie cocked her head and aimed her gaze at his feet. “Or ever, for that matter.”
“Putting yourself in someone else’s shoes has never been your forte, little sister. Putting your scrawny ass in another woman’s marriage bed seems to be more your style now.”
“Bastard,” Jillie hissed.
“Got that right.” He braced himself for the slap he so deserved and felt all the more the big jerk when it did not come. “At least I can stand to hear the truth about myself. Can’t you?”
“You wouldn’t know the truth if…”
“Y’all stop it, right now!” Rita stepped between them.
Jillie turned her glaring gaze on her.
Will smiled, just a touch of his practiced wiseass smile.
“We are standing at ground zero of a couple of converging you’ve-plunged-a-knife-into-my-heart-for-not-telling-me-what-you-were-up-to, walleyed, claws-out hissy fits.” A commanding calm came over Rita. A new kind of power seemed to vibrate around her. “We have to decide how to handle this with a minimum of hurt feelings or hair-pulling and without any significant information exchanges, right?”
“Right.” Will focused on his sister, his tone threatening her to keep on arguing.
“Yeah, right.” Jillie brushed at her collar.
“So, any suggestions on how we go about accomplishing that?”
“Is gunplay absolutely out of the question?” Will narrowed his eyes and grinned.
“Will!”
“Just a couple of warning shots over their heads.” He tried to pull off looking innocent but had no illusions that it worked.
“Too bad you don’t have tea and cake to serve them.” Jillie’s wistful gaze made him wonder if she actually meant that ridiculous suggestion or if she had finally gone mad from years of starving herself to stay thin.
But Rita’s eyes twinkled like Christmas. “Who says I don’t have tea and cake?”
Jillie turned her head so fast her red curls trembled. “You do?”
“How long have you known me?”
“You do!” Jillie grinned. “I don’t dare hope that it’s…?”
“Yes, indeedy.”
“Mother and Pernel are bearing down on this place like two bad-weather fronts about to clash and y’all have started talking in shorthand or code or something.” Will leaned his shoulder against the doorframe but kept one eye on the front window.
“I made a Perfect Princess cake.” Rita held her hands together and raised her gaze heavenward, all childlike and waiting for a reward of high praise for her actions.
Jillie clapped. “Yes!”
“I was going to serve it to your brother later.”
“Oh, Rita, that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You and Billy sitting here waiting for them all cool and collected like a pair of spiders poised on a web—and with Princess cake to offer no less!”
“I don’t…” Damn he hated to say this aloud. He cleared his throat and folded his arms. “I don’t believe I
“Mama?”
“She’s on her way, too.”
The plates crashing into the suds covered the worst of his low-from-the-gut cussing. He strode to the doorway between the dining area and kitchen and hit Jillie with a glare, his lips stiff. “How the hell did she find out I was here?”
His sister toyed with the empty napkin holder. “One of her ladies saw your car.”
“Round here we call them Miss Peggy’s Secret Service.” Rita put a hand to her hip. Her dark eyes lit up.
He suspected she felt some sort of affection or some such nonsense for his mother and the Retired Junior League gossip brigade. “They know all the secrets and consider it a service to let your mother in on them.”
He cursed again.
Rita laughed.
He gave her a look that made hardened workmen shut their mouths and drop their gazes from his.
“Smile, Will, company’s coming!” Her dimples betrayed how much she enjoyed seeing him in the same fix as her.
He clenched his jaw.
“I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes now.” Jillie cocked her head and aimed her gaze at his feet. “Or ever, for that matter.”
“Putting yourself in someone else’s shoes has never been your forte, little sister. Putting your scrawny ass in another woman’s marriage bed seems to be more your style now.”
“Bastard,” Jillie hissed.
“Got that right.” He braced himself for the slap he so deserved and felt all the more the big jerk when it did not come. “At least I can stand to hear the truth about myself. Can’t you?”
“You wouldn’t know the truth if…”
“Y’all stop it, right now!” Rita stepped between them.
Jillie turned her glaring gaze on her.
Will smiled, just a touch of his practiced wiseass smile.
“We are standing at ground zero of a couple of converging you’ve-plunged-a-knife-into-my-heart-for-not-telling-me-what-you-were-up-to, walleyed, claws-out hissy fits.” A commanding calm came over Rita. A new kind of power seemed to vibrate around her. “We have to decide how to handle this with a minimum of hurt feelings or hair-pulling and without any significant information exchanges, right?”
“Right.” Will focused on his sister, his tone threatening her to keep on arguing.
“Yeah, right.” Jillie brushed at her collar.
“So, any suggestions on how we go about accomplishing that?”
“Is gunplay absolutely out of the question?” Will narrowed his eyes and grinned.
“Will!”
“Just a couple of warning shots over their heads.” He tried to pull off looking innocent but had no illusions that it worked.
“Too bad you don’t have tea and cake to serve them.” Jillie’s wistful gaze made him wonder if she actually meant that ridiculous suggestion or if she had finally gone mad from years of starving herself to stay thin.
But Rita’s eyes twinkled like Christmas. “Who says I don’t have tea and cake?”
Jillie turned her head so fast her red curls trembled. “You do?”
“How long have you known me?”
“You do!” Jillie grinned. “I don’t dare hope that it’s…?”
“Yes, indeedy.”
“Mother and Pernel are bearing down on this place like two bad-weather fronts about to clash and y’all have started talking in shorthand or code or something.” Will leaned his shoulder against the doorframe but kept one eye on the front window.
“I made a Perfect Princess cake.” Rita held her hands together and raised her gaze heavenward, all childlike and waiting for a reward of high praise for her actions.
Jillie clapped. “Yes!”
“I was going to serve it to your brother later.”
“Oh, Rita, that’s just the thing, isn’t it? You and Billy sitting here waiting for them all cool and collected like a pair of spiders poised on a web—and with Princess cake to offer no less!”
“I don’t…” Damn he hated to say this aloud. He cleared his throat and folded his arms. “I don’t believe I
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