Chapter 9

Chapter

Nine

K andie

"Hey there, grandbaby," Pa-Pete says, getting in the passenger side of his Ford truck that he's had and kept up since before I was born. "Don't be grinding my gears, young lady."

"No, sir," I say, knowing better than to remind my granddaddy that he taught me himself to drive so there won't be any gear grinding.

He harrumphs, watching me like a hawk as I pull slowly out onto the main street. This time a day, mid-morning, is the least likely time I'm likely to run into any police. I'm sure Ms. Janie, the neighbor in the green honeydew melon house across the street from my grandparents, is very likely to call the sheriff's office and tell them she's spotted me driving. She's had it out for me since I beat her out at the state baking competition all those years ago. You'd think some of these folks would have gotten over it by now. They are still mad as all get out, I won. This lady actually told Mama-Pete she wanted to start that bakery just like I did with the winnings. To which Mama-Pete asked in the way only she can, "So you've given up bingo?" Knowing good and well Ms. Janie will burn those winnings every month at illegal bingo. Ms. Janie stopped visiting a good month after that. She's never liked me and this made it worse. The sheriff's office stopped paying her any attention when one time she reported me for riding my bike.

We make it the three and a half blocks to the new Shelby- Love Medical Center with no problem. Getting out my side, I'm rounding the corner when I see a county cruiser pulling into the parking lot.

"Dang it," I say, helping Pa-Pete get out of the truck.

"They didn't see you driving with their own two eyes, sweet girl." He gives me a jaunty wink. "They ain't got nothing on you long as you say nothing."

The cruiser slows down as we walk toward the entrance. Deputy Davies, who should've retired an eon ago, yet here he is being a menace to society, rolls down his window pulling alongside us.

Pa-Pete's arm tightens on mine a little but doesn't break his jaunty stride. He still dresses dapper like old school fellows with a matching leisure suit short set, and leather sandals.

"Hey there, Sean," Pa-Pete says with a firm nod, still walking like nothing is amiss. I don't know what's funnier. Me not having a license or my grandad being legally blind. Either way, we're driving dirty.

He keeps moving forward. I know Deputy Davies, Sean, as granddaddy likes to call him, is fuming. I can see it by the way he eyes me as he passes.

"He ain't shit," Pa-Pete mutters as he steps back to let me proceed him through the glass doors.

He's never liked the man from the moment he found out how he manhandled me the night of the fire. It was Ulysses who called them when I was taken in.

"Behave." Giggling, I shake my head, stepping in ahead of him.

"I will when you do, Kandie girl," he teases, stepping ahead of me to open the door of the general practitioner's office and I step right into Ulysses Shelby's chest.

"E-Excuse me," I whisper into the broad chest, not daring to look up into those ice-blue eyes.

Strong fingers grip my shoulder and I promise all I can think about is those very fingers sliding into me, brushing strands of hair away from my brow, the way they trailed over my body. All thoughts I should not be having at this moment.

"No worries." A slow stroke over my kittykat couldn't have done any more damage that the ground gravel of his voice in that moment.

It takes everything in me to focus on the task. I have to make sure my grandaddy keeps his appointments. The task that's fallen on me since my cousin, Ezekiel-Jane, moved to Birmingham two years ago when she graduated college and couldn't find a local librarian position here because Ms. Grainger wasn't ready to retire even though she's as old as Methuselah.

I wait behind Ulysses' big body, waiting until he checks his mother into her appointment. Turning, I give her a little wave. Marlene is over in the corner looking better than she did the other day. The wane look is gone from her face and she even has a nice little glow.

No sooner than she's checked-in than they are calling her back.

"Tricare's that good insurance we don't ever have to wait." Pa-Pete grins over at me. "I'm here now. You can go on about your business and let 'em all know that I kept this dang appointment." By them he means my cousins who have been on him to stay on top of his health appointments.

"I'm staying just the same, Pa, just in case you decide to sneak out the back." Patting him on the shoulder, I look around the mostly empty waiting room, seeing Ulysses squeezed like a grown-up trying to play with kids' toy furniture with the way he's dwarfing the chair he's sitting in.

The only thing not too smart about my decision is I have a clear view of him. He's not in his uniform, but some jeans and a polo shirt tucked into his slim waist. The cowboy buckle reminding me of the heavy thud when he dropped it on the floor the other night in my loft.

Groaning internally, I drag my gaze away before my eyes dip any lower to the dick print I know I'm sure to see. Knowing how traitorous my coochie is, I'm liable to give him some in the nearest restroom. Ugh. I can't stand my own self sometimes.

All this man has done is threaten and bully me since he helped me out the other night and what did I do? Offer to make him his favorite cake, make his mom meals, and give him one of the best nights of his life. Doing a great job standing up for yourself, Kandie-girl.

Rolling my eyes at myself, I open them to see his gaze trained on me. Hot urgency settles low in my tummy. Dang-it.

Unable to resist, I look back at him, letting my eyes trace over the hard press of his lips, skating along the path of his scar, remembering how he let me kiss it better even though it's long healed. How I licked it after letting my tongue played along the faint groves where he'd been stitched back together. Biting my lip, I allow my mind to drift back to where that led. Trailing kisses down his neck, chest and flat ridges of his abs until I found my home in this thick nest at the base of his dick; how he fucked my mouth like he needed it to live. How his toes curled when he came down my throat and dragged me back to him and made me ride his face.

As the first break in my celibacy since the time he made love to me all those years ago, I was the winner by far. I won't lie to myself about the why. I know why, and that's my business. I just hate that I figured it out so quickly as soon as I was finally alone with him. Not that I would have told him. Like I said, my business.

His nostrils flare and I can tell he's remembering too by the way he shifts uncomfortably in his chair. I know I'm not the only one affected by us being in such close proximity. Maybe he was right to keep his distance all this time. Neither of us can put that genie back in its bottle, though.

I don't know how long we lose ourselves in this walk back down filthy memory lane until Pa-Pete is done. "You ready or gone sit here and keep eye hunching ol' Ulysses?" Pa-Pete grumbles for my ears only making me hop up from my seat embarrassment flooding me.

"You messy, you know that?" Shaking my head, I make sure I don't look at Ulysses on my way out of the doctor's office. "Well, at least that means you got it honest."

"Sheriff." He nods to my nemesis.

"Mr. Love." Ignoring their acknowledgements, I keep my stride steady as I lead Pa-Pete out to the parking lot.

"He did what?" Mama-Pete asks again, as she pours the thick mass of macaroni and cheese over into the baking dish.

"Gave me a citation even though he didn't see me driving." Fuming, I slap the citation on the countertop, watching her eye it.

"Leave it here. I'm going to call the sheriff as soon as I'm done frying this fish and get this handled." I move it out of her reach just as she is about to pluck it up.

"No ma'am, I got this." Tucking it back into my back pocket, I wave her off. "Everybody knows Davies has an issue with me. They probably are going to want to talk to you, Pa," I tell my grandaddy who's leaning with his arms crossed at the doorjamb of the kitchen.

"It's probably best if she does the call, seeing as she and Ulysses have taken up again," he says with a casualness that I certainly don't feel.

"Uh, excuse me. I haven't taken up with anyone. Least of all Ulysses Shelby." I turn to my grandfather, a World War II vet who I am seriously considering jumping on at the moment.

"Then why did Mrs. Lopez say she saw him coming from your place the other morning when she went to open the flower shop?" Mama-Pete props her hand on her hip, giving me a firm look.

"That sure sounds like taking up again to me. You're grown, and that's your business, but a Shelby, Kandie-girl? Yeah. He's the best out of the lot, but still he's a Shelby." She sighs, shaking her head.

"A fucking Shelby?" comes the menacing growl from behind me just as the back door slams closed.

Of course, Ozymandias would pick this moment to show up. He's as tall as Ulysses and the biker president, Angel, and has twice the muscle of both of them put together. Not that anyone can blame him. Saying he's had to fight all his life is an understatement.

"Not a Shelby and watch your mouth," I snap, getting up from where I was sitting and going to give his mean ass a hug.

He kisses the top of my head, his dark eyes softening for the slightest moment, his light almond skin tingeing pink, giving away his mixed heritage. "Sorry." Shoving me a little, he stalks over to the sink to wash his hands.

"So, what's going on with you, Kandie? Why's that white boy leaving your house fore ‘day in the morning?" Hard eyes meet mine.

"He was doing a welfare check because one of the hydrangeas had fallen off the rooftop and a bottle of wine was broken on the sidewalk." Giving the explanation I had ready, I shrug like it's no big deal.

"Hm... That ain't how Mrs. Lopez made it sound. She said the hood of his truck was cold as ice. Like he's been parked back there a long time," Mama-Pete muses, battering the fish and dropping it in hot oil. "Oz, open those windows so my whole house don't be smelling like fried catfish."

"You could just turn on the overhead vent," Pa-Pete says, and I already know what she's going to say before she says it.

"It's too noisy. And I don't want to miss these lies Kandie is weaving." Throwing me a jaunty wink she turns back to my cousin. "I mean if you gone cut-up with one at least make him handsome, big-big, and good-looking like that young-un." She shimmies a little making Pa-Pete wolf whistle and Oz groans in mortification.

"Did you take care of that thing I needed you to do?" She asks over her shoulder after their antics calm down. I already know what they are talking about — the guys who threw the beer at me and almost made me break my neck by falling in that ditch.

"No, ma'am," he says, looking dead at me. "Somebody beat me to it. They knew what they were doing too. Not a trace to be found. Gone just like that." Snapping his fingers to punctuate the statement he leans his long form back in a chair, crossing one knee over the other he props his elbow on the table cupping his chin.

"Now, Kandie-girl who loves you more than us? And if it's this Shelby Sheriff, am I going to have to lay his ass down?"