Page 13 of Jonny’s Redemption

“And what about you? Are you ready to take on all the ugly in my life?”

“Baby, there isn’t anything I wouldn’t do for you.”

And with that, Jonny left the room. There was only so much he could take. And it wasn’t the avows of devotion that had done him in. He could do that all day, and over the next few days, while he kept her holed-up at the beach house, he planned on giving it all to her.

It was the beautiful woman in his bed, the one he’d dreamt of, the scent of peaches and vanilla filling his nostrils, the sight of her full breasts encased in black lace, the knowledge she wasn’t wearing panties and she’d still be slick from his release that made it nearly impossible to be the gentleman he claimed to be.

Bobby was finally his.

No more hiding.

No more pretending he wasn’t in love.

Now he’d pray she was strong enough to stay once she learned the truth.

6

“Nine-point-five,” I declared and set my fork down.

Jonny’s eyes hit my empty plate and he smiled.

“Nine-point-five? You licked the plate clean.”

I had not licked it clean, I had some manners after all. Not that I’d learned proper table etiquette back home in Kentucky. My daddy and brother weren’t real big on decorum, civility, or politeness. Dinnertime around the Layne table was a free-for-all. That was if a meal was put on the table. Most of the time EJ and I were left to scrounge together whatever we could find. Daddy also wasn’t big on being a father. Like my mother, Elmer made it clear his children weren’t going to stop him from being the man he wanted to be—which was a low-class, common criminal. He didn’t even have it in him to be big-time. Not Elmer, he was too lazy for that.

My life growing up was so stereotypical it was sad. A hillbilly from the backwoods, living in a rundown house, complete with a rickety porch with a swing and a still not far from the house. The smell of fermenting corn mash was so familiar I could sniff it out the way most people could smell a KFC from miles away.

“Babe?” Jonny called, pulling me from thoughts of a childhood full of nothing that was worth a damn.

“I didn’t lick my plate clean,” I told him. “And I’m deducting half a point because you put pants on.”

Not that his pants had been off. Nope, not his, just mine.

“Where’d you go?”

I was not prone to games. Despite what Miss Lola said, I hadn’t ever played them with Jonny and I wouldn’t start. That didn’t mean I wasn’t up for a little evasive maneuvering when I wanted to postpone a conversation that was full of thorns.

“You’re an excellent cook. I’m happy to know—”

“Bobby,” Jonny cut me off and dashed all hope I could avoid getting sliced and diced.

“I was thinking about table manners,” I said.

The way his brow arched told me he wasn’t buying my simple answer and the way he rested his elbows on the table told me he wasn’t going to let me off the hook.

“It’s beautiful out here,” I started and looked from Jonny to the ocean then back to our empty dinner plates. “Good food. Good company. Can we shelve uncomfortable conversations for another night?”

“Yeah, baby, we can.”

My gaze flitted back to Jonny’s and I asked, “That easy?”

“That easy,” he confirmed.

I wasn’t sure what to make of this easygoing Jonny. He looked relaxed, comfortable, casual. The opposite of how he looked before he took off. I would’ve thought a month of solitude had done him well except for the fact when I’d arrived he hadn’t been chilling on his awesome deck with his feet kicked up, sipping a beer, watching the surf. He’d looked unhappy, stiff, miserable.

Now he was not.

“This is a great house,” I noted.