Page 15 of Kandie Shoppe

Making the rounds of the festival, I’m greeted like the hometown hero I’m not and have no claim to. After maybe the tenth person thanking me for my service, I make a left, trying to get away from the picnic area heading toward the entertainment.

The whoops and hollering should have keyed me in something is amiss. The sight that greets me makes me stop stock still. Laying across a makeshift bar in a top tied under her breasts with cut off Daisy Duke shorts and cowboy boots is Kandie. Her hair is braided into long ponytails with pink ribbons holding them in place. She looks like a debauched cowgirl.

“Another,” she giggles as Remy-Shane pours a shot of whiskey into her mouth.

“What the fuck?” I growl, striding through the crowd, shoving guys out of the way.

“Hey,” she yells when I drag her off the bar. “What the hell do you thi—” she stutters when her eyes tracks up my body to meet my angry stare.

“Ulysses,” she gasps, her mouth forming an O. The flush rushing to her round dimpled cheeks makes her dark skin look like she’s applied rouge. She looks even more adorable with the guilty look she flashes.

“Y’all know she’s underage,” I say, my eyes never leaving hers, though the words are directed at the men surrounding her.

“Actually, I’m not underage. I’m twenty,” she quips.

“To drink.” I concede the fact, looking at her for the first time for real. Yes, she’s a grown woman now. When I left, she still had that immature form I never bothered to notice. Now, only a dead man would be unaware of her. Curves for days. She may havegotten older, but she’s not grown a bit. Still short as hell, her breasts all but bursting from the top she’s wearing. Those shorts riding up her ass cheeks. The plump little tummy on display, begging to have salt licked off right before a shot of tequila. This girl is dangerous.

“Yeah, but not too young to kill for this country, though, huh?” She rolls her eyes at me, turning away. “You ain’t nobody to be telling me what to do anyway, Ulysses Shelby.”

Strutting over to the bar, she snatches the bottle of whiskey from the bar’s edge, taking a long swig. Her eyes daring me to do anything.

Challenge accepted little girl. Striding right over to her, I snatch the bottle out of her hand tossing it behind the bar where an unmistakable crash is heard.

“Kandie-girl, don’t tell me I went to get me a little taste of food and you already over here starting a brawl and with the sheriff’s boy no less,” Ms. Queenie calls, bustling over to us.

“How you doing, baby?” she asks me, skewering Kandie with a suspicious look.

“I’m good, Ms. Queenie. I don’t want you losing your license for underage drinking.”

I quirk a brow toward the little miscreant.

“Girl—” Ms. Queenie rounds on Kandie with exasperation.

“I had a line until he ran everyone away. He’s the one that’s bad for business.” Totally unbothered, Kandie flips me the bird. “I’m going to dance.”

Not sure if it’s her intention for me to follow, I fall into step behind her. This girl is like a loadstone. I don’t even have a choice.

Chapter

Four

ANight To Remember

Ulyssess

She’son her third line dance. This one is a Spanish hip hop song. She’s been on the floor for nearly half an hour, not stopping to grab a drink. She’s fucking beautiful. A butterfly flitting around the dance floor, never missing a beat. Her curves being caressed by the gazes of every man from eight to eighty who dares to take a turn around the floor with her.

The low simmering rage is like nothing I’ve ever felt since the first days since I lost my father.

“You’re braying like a bull, cuz.” Turning to meet the liquid mercury of my cousin’s knowing gaze, I can’t help but crack a smile at his assessment and seeing his face.

“Hey, Thi. What are you doing here? This isn’t your normal country club setting,” I tease, though he fits in just fine with his Wranglers, a large cowboy buckle, plaid shirt, and boots.

“I know,” he sighs, nodding over to his girlfriend of the last several years, Natalie. “Nat wanted to put in an appearance.”

“Already trying to reach hearts and minds?” I query with a jaundice eye.

“Exactly. I can’t wait to see his fucking face when I switch parties after I graduate.” Giving me a dry, mirthless laugh, I recognize the ruthless determination in my cousin’s eyes. He’s had a plan from the moment he lost his mother to bring his father down. Our relationship may have been his first act of defiance when he sought me out at Shelby Academy, but it wasn’t his last.

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