Page 73 of The Best Kind of Bad

She pauses, studying my face. “Of course. You look just like her.”

“Thank you. Most people have been telling me I look like my uncle.”

Glenna grins. “Your mother. Hands down. I was so sorry to hear that she passed away. God always takes the good ones early.”

These platitudes are a pet-peeve of mine, but this time, it’s coming from a genuine place. This woman actually knew my mother.

She pauses, pen hovering over her paper. “Naomi was such a beautiful girl. So upbeat and kind. Silver Bend’s sweetheart. I always thought it was such a shame she left and never came back. But broken hearts will do that to you.”

“Broken heart?” I try to keep my voice light. “Over a boy?”

“I think it was more than that.” She winces, studying my face. “I really shouldn’t spread stories. Forget I said anything.”

Not fucking likely. I’m about to press when Maddox comes in from the back room. He looks to be about sixteen years old. Lanky, with his grandmother’s warm, brown eyes. Glenna’s expression softens when she sees him. “Maddox. This is Marnie Black. Her mother was a classmate of mine.”

Maddox looks at me, smiling shyly. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too, Maddox. I could hear you practicing. You sound amazing.”

“Thanks.” He smiles, turning to look at his grandma.

She glances at me. “I need to drive Maddox to his lesson. Would you call me if you think of anything else you need?”

I want to keep her in place, to grill her. But I smile and back off. “You bet, Glenna. Thanks for your help.”

48.

Dusty

I like the way Marnie looks in a yellow bikini.

I like it when she wears holey jeans and old t-shirts.

Ireallylike it when she wears my clothes, looking all loved up.

But I didn’t know what she looked like when she pulls out all the stops.

We’re going to take her car to the wedding. I cross the farmyard, feeling strangled by the black tie I put on, but hoping Marnie likes it. She meets me at the door, and I temporarily forget how to speak.

She’s got on some little black dress. Simple and elegant, but viciously sexy. It’s short sleeved and skims her body like a second skin. She wears black, patent leather pumps that make her legs look a mile long.

I help her down the steps, unable to resist pulling her up against my body. “You left your hair down.” My nose brushes across her soft hair, breathing her in.

“I thought maybe you’d like it that way?”

My fingers tighten on her lower back, feeling possessive and smug. “You’re damn right I do, baby.” My fingers slide through her shiny hair. “How about we skip this lame wedding and check out your bedroom instead?”

She purrs when I nibble at her neck. “I think Mason might have opinions about that.”

“Ugh. Bridezilla.”

We drive about three miles an hour down the country roads. Marnie’s ultra-aware of the cakes carefully stacked in the backseat. I’m tempted to remind her that this is not the city. We don’t have break-neck traffic to be skittish over. But just as we’re pulling into Clark’s country club where the reception will be held, a dog scoots across the drive. She jams on the breaks to avoid it. I whip my head around, reaching out just as the top box slides off the stack and sheers to the side.

I manage to catch it before it can tumble end over end, but from the lopsided weight, I can tell that it took a spill.

“Oh, fuck.” Marnie looks at me with wide eyes.

“I’ve got it, babe. Just find a parking spot.”

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