“I want tonight,” she told him.
“Yeah, so do I.”
She arched her back and lifted her hips, opening her body to him. He found his rhythm, pushing in and out of her. He groaned her name in a possessive burst of emotion. His whole body shuddered, making her tingle.
She crossed over a moment later. All her frustrations slid away in a warm, languid rush of pleasure when—
Knock. Knock.
“Who is it?” Brody called out in a gruff voice as he got up and dragged on a pair of gray Jockeys.
“Duffy.”
Brody looked at Mary as if to say, What does he want at three in the morning?
“What’s up?” Brody opened the door slightly so the diner owner couldn’t see inside.
“Telephone call for Mary from Plain.”
“Why tell me?” Brody asked, blocking the door.
“Look, Brody, I’m not poking my nose into anybody’s business, but the tenant in 2C heard you two come in together,” Duffy said, not apologizing. “Mary didn’t answer when I knocked on her door, so I just assumed she was with you.”
“You can just assume someplace else, Duffy,” Brody said. “Mary’s not here—”
“It’s okay, Brody,” she said, nervous. A feeling of dread came over her as she pulled the plaid quilt around her and tiptoed to the door. There was only one person who would be calling her here in Richmond. She had to take the call.
She peeked through the door. “Who is it, Duffy?”
“A woman,” Duffy said. She could see him wiping sweat off his face with his long apron. ”Says she’s your grandmother.”
Her hand flew to her mouth. Grandma Blanchard.
Mary wanted to crawl under the bed, bury her head, and never come up for air.
She turned, afraid to face Brody. He was staring at her as if he couldn’t believe what he’d heard.
“I thought you said your grandmother was dead,” he accused. “She calling from the grave?”
“Not exactly,” Mary mumbled, trembling. “She—she suffers from a little arthritis, but—”
“Damn, woman.” He clenched his fists, slamming one against the wall. “You lied to me.”
And he hated liars.
She’d stretched the truth, and had her reasons. Given Brody’s expression, any explanation would fall on deaf ears. He’d never listen to her again.
He was furious.
She was fragile.
Chapter 11
“I didn’t want to lie to you, Brody,” Mary insisted, shivering, though she held the quilt wrapped tightly around her. “It just came out that way.”
“Then everything else you said was a lie, too?”
“Partly true.”
“Your job at Pop’s ...”
She lowered her eyes. “There is no discount store opening in Plain.”
“Son of a bitch.” He stomped across the room, running his fingers through hair streaked with green paint. “And what you said about waiting for me and not being with anyone else since I left. That was a lie, too?”
She lifted her chin, getting her courage back. “That was the truth. I honestly thought we were going to get married. I missed you so much, I had to come to Richmond.”
“Then where’s your engagement ring?” He pulled the quilt away, leaving her topless with her bottom now exposed beneath her short yellow skirt.
She heard him groan, his eyes widening at seeing her nearly nude. Then he got himself under control.
He grabbed her hand, his gaze drawn to her bare ring finger. “Did you take it off so you could go to Haunt and make it with another guy, thinking I wouldn’t find out?”
“No, I—I ...” How could she tell him she’d lost the ring? It devastated her.
She’d made such a big deal out of never taking it off, her story would sound like a lie whatever she said.
She hunched her shoulders. His face was streaked with greasepaint. The fierce look in his bloodshot eyes unnerved her. He looked like the Incredible Hulk.
He was mad as hell.
But so was she.
Something snapped in her, and she felt suddenly strong. Why was she cowering before Brody Jones like a frightened deer on a busy highway? He had openly accused her of wanting another man. When she’d only wanted him.
She’d lost her ring. Otherwise it would still be on her finger. Given the harshness of his features, her explanation no longer mattered. He believed the worst of her. So be it.
The only reason she’d gone to Club Haunt was to see how the Richmond girls excited their men in their low-cut costumes and high heels. In the end she’d learned nothing, and her feet hurt far more than after an eight-hour shift at the diner.
And Brody still thought of her as a small-town girl, not worth his time.
Was he right?
It hurt her to think he was, especially after driving all the way to Richmond, nervous about every wrong turn and clinging to the memory of how crazy in love they’d been back in Plain.
The whispers she’d overheard at the bowling alley from folks too nosy to mind their own business echoed over and over in her mind.
Brody Jones has gone big-time.
He’s got women kissing more than his ass.
Mary is a fool to wait for him.
She knew now it was true.
Brody had just made love to her with a wildness that frightened her. Then he’d slowed, gone tender, once he realized she hadn’t been with a lot of other men. He’d seemed almost pleased he’d been her first and last lover.
“I’m still waiting, Mary.” Brody’s frustration was evident in his voice. He banged his fist into his palm.
She watched him staring at her, his expression becoming more distant, as if he was withdrawing into himself.
“Waiting for what?” she said, heading for the door. He made no move to stop her. “To see me beg you to believe me? I won’t do it. I did lie to you, and for that I’m sorry, but I loved you so much I would’ve done anything to bring us together.”
She cracked the door and considered for a moment rushing back into his arms and begging him for forgiveness.
She couldn’t do it. People from Plain had their pride.
So she said, “I was wrong to believe you might still feel something for me.”
“That doesn’t excuse the fact that you lied.” There was something in his eyes that went beyond being angry at her. He seemed fired-up mad at someone else as well. Someone from his past. “You can’t depend on liars.”