Page 29 of Starting Our Chance

“Huh?” I furrowed my brows, not sure where she was going with that.

Lore sighed, yet a smile was fighting for dominance on her lips. “My nickname for you was going to be Scrappy, but I think Ornery is more appropriate.”

“I’m not some angry fuck,” I defended myself. It pained me to think that she saw me that way.

“No,” she whispered softly. Then her lips angled up to mine and brushed against my cheek as she said, “But you’ve had a hard life—we both have. And you’re a fighter. To some people, you might be unapproachable.” A second kiss trailed toward my mouth. I was frozen, waiting to see where she went. This time her lips brushed my own, but they pulled away all too quickly. “I’ve never had a problem being close to you. I just don’t want you pushing me out or thinking I’m not capable of being involved in your life.”

The choked sound that strangled her voice had me melting. “Never.”

Lore nodded and went to disentangle herself. “I have to go, but I’m glad we’ve straightened that out.”

“Don’t leave.” I gave her some space but kept my fingers wrapped around her wrist. “Stay and have a nightcap with me.”

“All right, Scrappy. But Mama is expecting help with the peaches and canning, so I can’t stay long. She only sent me over because I had angry-baked a couple of pies, this evening, and she said you needed a fresh one. But I was so mad at you, Scrappy.”

“I’m not some junkyard dog, all mangy and flee infested.” I drew her up onto the porch and made a beeline to the abandoned pie tin. Lore trailed close behind me, but I wouldn’t let go of her wrist. I was scared she’d take off.

“No, you’re not.” Her fingers reached up to brush some of my too long hair from my brow. “But it’s more about your resilience than your visage. So, I’m keeping it.”

Her words tugged at my heart, and I felt my chest clench when I opened the tin.

She remembered!

The raspberry-peach combination was still warm. The juices had spilt over the edge, and my mouth was instantly watering, my heart too full for words. This incredible woman had brought me this pie before. The fact that she cared enough to bring it now, and even remembered it was my favorite and held sentimental value, spoke volumes. After my granny had died, when we were still just kids, Lore had taken it upon herself to make my favorite pie. And her first attempts had not been very good. But the persistent little shit had kept baking—and force feeding me.

“Loretta, thank you.”

The cat stirred in the crook of her arms, but Lore calmed it before looking up at me. It might have been the darkness of the night, but her gray eyes looked a little sad. “I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she began softly, “but I wanted to show you just how much our friendship means to me, even if I’ve been gone all these years.”

“And despite me being an ass to you this morning?”

Lore sighed, but part of her mouth quirked up. “Yeah, despite that, I was really hoping that you were just busy, and I had interrupted you. Where is this dangerous employee, anyhow?”

“He took off this afternoon. You want a slice?” My throat was too full to say anything more complicated than that, and I didn’t want to ruin the moment with some cheesy reply.

But I wasn’t expecting the storm cloud that darkened her features. Loretta shook her head. Her eyes were focused on the cat, and she was suddenly stiff. “No thanks. I had a big dinner with Felicity at the Pit Stop.”

“Oh, yeah?” I paused, door to the house cracked open. “That’s good.”

Her eyes were on the cat, but she gave no smile, no nod of agreement. Something was up.

“I saw her bring you home,” I said, pressing for more information.

A wry laugh that left no smile on her lips was the only reply I got.

“Were you okay?”

“Oh, yeah,” Lore said, seeming to shake herself. “I just had two long islands and Felicity wouldn’t let me drive, even though we had eaten three burgers between us, not to mention the onion rings and fries.”

There it was, more of her secrets. I wished she would open up and talk to me—really talk to me. Because if Felicity was amicable and not the source of Lore’s sudden mood, then it had to be something else, and I wouldn’t rest until I had made sure that all of whatever darkness she carried left her life. I’ll go to Felicity. Make her tell me. It might betray her trust with Lore, but if it was for Loretta’s good, I would do it.

“You promised me a nightcap. We’ll make it a fast drink. Bourbon okay?” I asked, as if everything was normal between us, and I didn’t notice the weird way she was acting. “I think I have a bottle of brandy tucked away somewhere from when I had a cold.”

“Bourbon is fine.”

“Neat or on the rocks?”

“Rocks, please.”

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