Chapter Five

Mandi groaned as she read the email from her professor again then double-checked the syllabus. Damn. She hadn’t looked ahead at the assignment for this week. Not only did she have the usual chapter to read and quiz to take, the professor had thrown in an extra reading assignment. And an online chat session Sunday afternoon.

She glanced at the time, and sucked in her breath. Better snap to it. Only three hours before she had to get ready for work. She popped open a can of Mountain Dew and pulled the computer onto her lap. When she opened the textbook to the chapter, she had to laugh. She could probably write this one. “Differences in Social Status Within a Family Unit.” The other assignment that went with it was to read excerpts from “Into The Wild.” A stroke of luck. She’d read the book and seen the movie.

But her optimism wavered after only a few minutes. She couldn’t concentrate. Every idiot in the park must’ve been out. With all of the hammering, pounding and yelling, the noise level pushed to the point of ridiculous. Finally, she got up and turned on the fan to help drown out the sounds. Unfortunately, it couldn’t drown out her own internal distractions – namely one Lane Whitmore.

Maybe he’d get a little bit drunk tonight and not question her about her parents. Or, maybe she’d get a little bit drunk and tell him everything. Get it over with. She flopped back onto the sofa, heat pooling in her center as thoughts of last night ran through her head. Last night had been . . . incredible. But this morning . . . he’d been patient, hadn’t pressured her. Mandi squeezed her eyes shut. No. She wasn’t quite ready. Wasn’t ready to give him up. Maybe she could stall a few more nights. Or weeks. She had ways of channeling his focus, of course.

With a heavy sigh, she sat back up, wondering how long his project would take. It might be too bold to come right out and ask, could scare him away if he interpreted that as clingy. Last night had been about sex. That’s all she’d wanted. But she had to admit, she liked the man. And she wanted more.

Mandi pounded back the Mountain Dew and forced herself to finish the chapter. She usually saved the tests for Sunday, but she’d better not plan on it this time. She had other things in mind for tomorrow morning. She started the program, but as she was about to open the document, she heard a soft knock at the door.

With a roll of her eyes, she set the computer on the couch and peeked outside. Her little neighbor, Danielle, stood at the top of the stairs, a brush in her hand. Mandi debated. She really didn’t have time for Danielle today. The girl lived in the trailer next door with her parents and a couple of brothers, and seemed to be on her own and ignored a good chunk of time. Paige used to play with her sometimes, and Mandi had figured the two would be friends.

Guilt won out, and Mandi opened the door. “Hey, Dannie Girl, what are you doing?”

The girl bobbed up and down. “Can you fix my hair?”

Mandi glanced next door. “Is your mama home?”

No. Just Marco.”

Marco was her twelve-year-old brother who Mandi didn’t see around much, and probably wasn’t the most attentive babysitter.

Does he know you’re here?”

Danielle shrugged.

Sweetie, you have to go tell him you’re over here. Then come right back, okay?”

While she was gone, Mandi rummaged through the cupboards for some cookies. She didn’t keep milk on hand anymore, but she had some grape juice. She shook the bottle and checked the expiration date. No problem.

Danielle bounced through the door. “He said okay.”

Good. You want some juice and cookies?”

Danielle’s eyes lit up, and Mandi had to smile. Well, duh.

Danielle climbed up on a chair at the table, and Mandi pulled a chair around behind her, and started brushing her long dark hair. She’d tried to show Maria, Danielle’s mom, how to French braid her hair several times, but she never got the hang of it. That, or it was simply easier to send her over to Mandi. Generally, Mandi didn’t mind, but today she’d have to make quick work of it.

As she swung the thick hair around, Mandi swallowed past the lump in her throat. It was impossible to do this without thinking of Paige and her beautiful white-blond hair. Paige’s hair had been soft and wispy, harder to keep in a braid than Danielle’s, but so adorable. Mandi twisted, picked up another strand, then worked from side to side until all of the hair was swept back in a tight, even braid. “Hand me your ponytail band,” she told Danielle.

The girl wiggled a purple band from her wrist and held it up.

Mandi finished the job then rested her hand on Danielle’s head. “Stay right here a second.” She went to Paige’s room and fumbled through a drawer full of ribbons and barrettes until she found a small plastic comb decorated with purple satin flowers. She’d already given several of Paige’s hair bows to Danielle, and she should probably just give her the whole drawer-full. Over time, she probably would.

She grabbed a mirror from the bathroom, then tucked the comb into Danielle’s hair.

Oooo. It’s pretty,” Danielle squealed, her face shining.

You look gorgeous, dahhhling,” Mandi drawled. “All right sweetie, I’m sorry I can’t play. I have work to do today. You’ll have to go back home or you can watch a movie, but you have to be quiet.

**

 

With only a trace of trepidation, Lane drove around the Northtown area, expanding his perimeters. Didn’t take long to find the neighborhoods that worried Mandi. It seemed to Lane that within just a block or two, everything suddenly turned dull and colorless. The streets, houses, yards, chain-link fences, everything, ran together in dirty browns and grays. The only color he saw was the occasional splash of red or blue spray paint in the graffiti marking the walls. But even that was filtered through a layer of dirt.

No question. This wasn’t a friendly place even in daylight. Still, it was a fair distance from Jimmy’s. He couldn’t imagine she’d ever be in that area. But he supposed Jimmy’s was close enough for some of these guys to find their way there.

Mandi never did say exactly where she lived. His heart skipped a beat. Surely not near here. Nah, he’d bet it was back in those little duplexes he’d seen. They seemed decent. Too bad they sat across the street from that piece-of-shit trailer park. “The Meadows” they called it. Meadows, hell. There was barely a scrap of yard between the haphazard assortment of mobile homes. Lane couldn’t wait to talk to the owner. Maybe the city would pay the guy to bulldoze it.

He turned the BMW, and found a group of guys huddled on the street corner. Several heads swiveled his direction. Hard eyes watched him as he drove by. Tough punks. Didn’t matter. He didn’t need to walk this particular neighborhood. He doubted there were many voters or taxpayers, anyway. But he’d have to consider these blocks in his plan, and he’d damned sure have to talk to the people at the city. They couldn’t ignore them.

Lane jotted down the names of the streets, the ones that still had signs, and made a few notes before heading back toward friendlier areas to start canvassing.

He spent an enlightening, but exhausting, three hours talking to residents, most of whom were both wary and weary. Definitely not a lot of faith in the city government around there. Some waved him away, others took the opportunity to unload their latest grievance. The one that got to him the most was the young mother whose eyes flashed fire.

We have to watch all the time,” she told Lane, her voice shaking. “When they play, when they go to school. Watch to make sure our kids don’t get snatched. Can’t even walk to school by themselves.” The woman bounced a toddler on her hip. “We need to get these thugs off the streets. Lock these crazy bastards up so our kids are safe.” She shook a finger at him. “You put that in your plan, mister. That’s what we need.”

The toddler looked at him through wide solemn eyes, and Lane nodded. “Got it,” he said.

**

 

Dancing? Lane read the text from Mandi again. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d danced. Probably someone’s wedding. He debated the idea. Could be interesting to see her interact in a different venue, see how much she drank. Dealing with a drunk woman had no appeal. He supposed if it looked like she was headed that direction he could shut things down. Maybe dancing would lift her spirits and ease the tension from this morning’s encounter with her parents.

Lane finished up with a man in one of the better areas near the shopping strip about six o’clock. He decided against dinner at Jimmy’s, and instead drove a few miles out of the way to get to a sub shop for a quick bite. Then he hit the shower. Dancing hadn’t been on his agenda when he’d packed for the trip to Northtown, so he had few options. At least he had a pair of jeans. He pulled them on, along with a black cotton shirt. At some point, if he didn’t go home, he was either going to have to do some laundry or some shopping.

At twelve-fifteen he sauntered out to the parking lot. Leaning against his car, he waited for Mandi. Jimmy’s was already dark, and a cop car sat at the corner of the parking lot. When the headlights of her Civic flashed on, Lane straightened, but her car turned the other direction. Hands on his hips, he moved farther into the parking lot, his eyes following her car. Huh. Maybe she wanted to dash home first. But a moment later, the Honda turned into the lot from the other direction. Weird.

What were you doing?” he asked when she parked her car and climbed out.

What do you mean?”

Circling around.”

Oh. I don’t need Carl or anybody else seeing me come over here. Asking questions, you know?”

Ah. Made sense, he supposed.

You ready?” she asked.

He took in the sight in front of him. Holy shit. Mandi Evans could turn on the heat. She looked older tonight, wearing a short denim skirt that flared into a feminine ruffle around the bottom, a pink shirt, several strands of beads, and tall shoes. Her hair seemed fuller, and her eyes deeper. For a moment, he regretted agreeing to go dancing.

But he dug his keys out of his pocket. “Sure. Lead the way.”

The bar she chose was downtown, a busy area with several nightclubs and restaurants still open. Seemed to be a popular spot, with people milling around outside as well.

What would you like?” Lane asked, nearly yelling above the music and crowd noise as they made their way to the bartender.

She took his arm and smiled up at him. “How ’bout a rum and Coke?”

You got it.” He nodded, secretly relieved she hadn’t asked for a girly drink like a daiquiri. He ordered a microbrew, and they squeezed into a tiny table near the dance floor.

Mandi swayed to the music while she sipped her drink.

So, did you get your studying done?” he asked.

Yeah. Did you talk to people?”

I did.”

Did it help?”

Was interesting.”

Uh-huh. And how many were interested in more shops?”

Lane took a drink and shook his head. “None.”

That’s what the city tried before. They always want to bring in more businesses and landscape to make it look better. Like that’s going to make a difference.” She leaned in, her hand waving for emphasis as she talked. “The thing is, people just want basic services and to be safe.”

He remembered the first woman he’d talked to had said essentially the same thing. More sidewalks and a safe walk to her daughter’s school.

You’re right.”

To his surprise, Mandi kept talking, her voice getting louder and stronger. “The people at the city don’t have a clue. Last time, they replaced a bunch of streetlights with those stupid lanterns. I don’t know how much that cost, but it was a waste of money. What they really should’ve done was put in more street lights.”

Lane smiled at the passion in her voice. He’d apparently struck a nerve.

But then her eyes bulged as though she’d just thought of something. She looked down and tapped her glass against the table. When she looked up again, her lips were pursed. “You’re not proposing projects like that are you? This isn’t about getting more businesses in here?”

She looked as if she’d dump his ass right there and find a ride home if he said yes. He held up his hands in surrender. “No, ma’am. It’s about making this a better place to live. You know, you don’t talk like most of the people around Northtown. Maybe you should be their spokesperson.”

Oh, right. I don’t think so,” Mandi said, screwing up her face. She tugged on Lane’s arm. “Anyway, I’m tired of talking. Come on. Let’s dance.”

Lane stopped to let the waitress know they hadn’t abandoned the table, then took Mandi’s hand and swung her onto the crowded dance floor. The music thundered in his ears, matching the thumping of his heart. Lights and bodies spun, and blurred images of skin and color flashed like small explosions.

When Lane caught Mandi’s hand and twirled her around under his arm, she gave a short scream then came back toward him, laughter lighting her face.

He grinned, and pinned her against him for a moment, catching the floral scent of her. He had a sudden urge to plant his lips on hers, but with a toss of her hair, she gave him a teasing smile and stepped away again. Lane blew out his breath. Hard to believe the woman flirting with him was the girl he’d met at Jimmy’s. He chuckled to himself. At least she knew the consequences.

They danced through several more songs until beads of sweat formed at his temples. Lane was starting to wonder if Mandi was a close relative to the Energizer Bunny when she sagged against him at the end of a song.

She grinned up at him. “Oh, my gosh. I need a drink.”

His thoughts, exactly. He rested a hand against her back, and they returned to their table. Lane picked up his glass, hoping the beer was still cold enough to cool his temperature a bit.

Mandi took a few sips of her drink, but her eyes were on him. “That was so much fun,” she said, smiling. “You’re a good dancer.”

The smile on her face tugged at him. As his pulse quickened, and he remembered the adrenaline rush of being a teenager with matches in his hand and messing around with fireworks. Playing with fire. Is that what he was doing now? For a moment, he wondered if he should slow things down, take a step back.

What’s the matter?” she asked, the smile faltering.

Lane decided not to spoil the mood. “Nothing. Glad you’re having a good time.”

She picked up her purse. “Excuse me a minute. I’m going to the ladies room.”

He nodded, and as he watched her go, he knew he’d let things take their natural course. But he’d have to be careful. He wanted her in his bed, but he didn’t want to make her feel cheap or used. The lights bounced off her shiny hair, and her hips swayed just enough to invite attention. Lane bristled as he realized he wasn’t the only one watching Mandi’s progress across the room. Standing, he leaned against the table and glared toward the bar. Ready to stake his claim.

As she made her way back toward him a few minutes later, Lane enjoyed the opposite view. The little sashay in her walk made her earrings bob and her curly hair bounce. Her necklaces sparkled in the light. When she got closer and caught his eye, a smile flashed across her face, and his heart thumped.

He nudged the bowl of Chex mix the waitress had left toward Mandi. “Snack?”

She took a sip of her drink and flicked a finger through the dish, studying the contents.

What are you looking for? I don’t think there’s a prize at the bottom.”

A pretzel.”

Lane reached in and offered her a pretzel stick.

She waved it away. “No. I like the round ones.”

He chuckled. “Uh, sweetheart, they taste exactly the same.”

But the circles are more fun.”

A second later, she held up a hand. Like a little kid, she wiggled her fingers, each one wrapped in a pretzel ring. Then to his discomfort, she proceeded to use her tongue and teeth to pry them off one at a time. When she got to the pinky, she leaned toward him, opened her mouth, and wiggled the pretzel on the tip of her tongue. The invitation in her eyes stole his breath like a punch to the solar plexus. He moved in, ready to retrieve the pretzel. Just as their breath mingled, she quickly drew it back into her mouth. He helped himself to a handful of curls, and landed a hard kiss on her lips instead. “You are a tease,” he said near her ear. “And you’ll pay for it.”

Laughing, she grazed his hand with her fingers. “Come on. One more dance then we go?”

Her whisper-soft touch sent an electrical current buzzing across his skin. “Yeah,” he managed.

He spun her onto the dance floor about the time the music mellowed and the lights softened. Slipping an arm around her thin waist, he pulled her toward him, then took hold of her hand and moved with her, letting his cheek rest against her hair.

 

Heat spread like lava through Mandi as she swayed against Lane. Though the music had calmed, her pulse was going crazy, and she had to remind herself to breathe. She wondered if he could feel her heart pounding against him. When she looked up at him, a slow smile spread across his face. The unspoken message she saw in his dark eyes left her limp. She tightened her grip on Lane’s arm and rested her forehead against his shoulder.

As soon as the music stopped, Lane lifted her chin and brushed his lips against hers. Her weak legs hardly functioned as he steered her back to the table to retrieve her jacket. With shaking hands, she drained the last bit of liquid from her glass, her lips still buzzing.

Ready?” he asked softly.

Oh, God. Was she. She nodded and moved in front of him.

In the car, Mandi buckled in then turned to Lane and rested a hand on his thigh. “Thanks for taking me to dance,” she whispered. She hadn’t had that much fun, or felt so . . . alive, in a very long time.

His hand closed around hers, keeping it right where it was. “You’re welcome.”

When they pulled into the parking lot, Lane didn’t ask if she wanted to come up, if she was tired, or if she wanted to head home. It wasn’t necessary, and they both knew it. She automatically moved toward the door. He followed close behind. As soon as they entered his room, she dropped her purse and jacket, and went to him. With a little hop, she clutched his shoulders and wrapped her legs around his waist. His lips were on hers in an instant, his strong hands clasping her against him.

Mandi floated while Lane took a few long strides to the bedroom.

**

 

Sunday morning started the same way Saturday morning had. But it was different. Mandi sensed the change when Lane came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist, and gave her a lazy grin as if seeing her in his bed was the most natural thing in the world.

So, we having dinner with your parents tonight?” he asked.

Ugh. Mandi almost pulled the sheet over her head. Was he crazy? They’d known each other for approximately three days. No way would she take him to her parents’ house. Why would he want to go?

No. We aren’t,” she said, rolling to her side, reluctant to leave the warmth of the bed, and enjoying the eye candy in front of her. The muscles in Lane’s back and shoulders flexed as he moved. She’d felt their solid strength under her hands, of course, but hadn’t had much opportunity to let her eyes feast in the daylight.

Does that mean you’re ditching me and going alone, or that you prefer to stay here and have me all to yourself?”

Mandi sputtered out a laugh. “Neither, big guy. I don’t know if I’ll go over there tonight, but I can’t stay here today. I’ve got a chat session for my class this afternoon. And one way or another, I need to do some laundry.”

He turned. “What class?”

Just an online class I’m taking.”

Lane lifted his brows. “Oh, okay. Well, we could do laundry together.”

You’re such a romantic,” Mandi said, grinning. She tossed back the covers and forced herself up. It might be nice to stay, if all she had to do was read. She felt comfortable with Lane. That awkward morning-after-casual-sex she’d expected had never materialized. Maybe because they’d learned a little about each other. They’d passed the one-night-stand point, but, she reminded herself, her time with Lane Whitmore was still about sex.

What about something to eat?”

Okay, maybe it was about sex and food. “Sure. I think I can squeeze that into the schedule.”

This time they went to a small bakery for pastries, and lingered over a couple of refills of coffee.

What’s the rest of your week look like?” Lane asked.

Mandi shot him a wry smile. “It looks just like last week, and next week. They’re all the same. Work all day, work all night, go home, then get up and do it again until the weekend.” The only difference in the routine this week was that she had her annual ob-gyn exam. Not exactly something to look forward to.

And you’ll keep working on your plan?” Mandi asked.

Yep. Several more appointments this week. I’m meeting with Jimmy tomorrow, actually, plus a couple of pastors in local churches and the owner of that shitty trailer park on Carson Street. “Man, I’d love to see that thing go, and some new apartments or houses built in there.”

Mandi’s head snapped up, and coffee dribbled down her chin. She picked up a napkin and dabbed at the drips, grateful for the diversion. It gave her a moment to collect herself. She took another sip of coffee. Drumming her fingers against the table, she met his eyes.

But Lane, you can’t take away all the cheap housing. The people who live around here barely get by already. They can’t afford nicer houses. If they could, they wouldn’t be here in the first place. Where are they supposed to go?”

I don’t know, but something’s got to be done. That place looks like a landfill. Not being able to afford something better is one thing, but that’s no reason to live like dumpster dwellers.”

Mandi gasped. “What?”

Nearly every single trailer has junk sitting around outside. Why do they have to stack old furniture and used tires and crap all over the place? Why can’t they get rid of trash like normal people? Or paint? Or repair the hinges on a door? That’s what I don’t understand. Those things don’t take a lot of money. They just require some self-pride, and a little give-a-damn.”

Mandi’s face flushed, and she looked away. Should she tell him? Would he guess if she didn’t agree with him? She thought of Maria and her husband trying to raise three kids in a cramped trailer. People like herself, working two jobs plus going to school.

She swallowed hard. “I know a few people who live there, Lane. That place is full of people struggling to make it. Single moms, people juggling multiple jobs, people working for minimum wage. Maybe they’re too worn out to do anything else.”

Maybe. I’m talking to the owner, and I’ll find out what the contracts are like, what he’s responsible for and what the tenants are responsible for. It’s possible he’s a slumlord. Maybe if he’d make some improvements, the residents would, too.”

Uh-huh,” she mumbled into her cup. She could almost guarantee Boyd wasn’t about to make any improvements to the place. But would he sell? Would he raise rates if the city forced him to fix the place up? She couldn’t be sure, but there was no sense worrying yet. These kinds of projects had fizzled out before.

When they got back to Lane’s hotel, Mandi dug her car keys out of her purse, determined to resist going inside.

You sure you have to go?” Lane asked, stopping beside Mandi’s car.

I’m sure.”

Couldn’t you at least try to be a little disappointed?” he asked, toying with her hair.

Mandi knew he was teasing, still she sucked in her breath. Would he really want her there? Just to hang out? She supposed she’d be a convenient diversion. After all, what else did someone from out of town have to do on a Sunday afternoon?

So, is your mom a good cook?” Lane asked.

Mandi shook her head. The man didn’t give up easily. “Would you stop? I’ve uninvited you.”

Seriously, you’re not going?”

She hadn’t made up her mind. But even if she didn’t, she knew she couldn’t stay with Lane again. Not on a work night. She’d be worthless the next day.

Haven’t decided.” She opened her car door, ready to climb inside, but Lane’s hand locked onto her arm.

He moved closer and planted a firm, warm kiss on her lips. “See you later.”

Nope. He wouldn’t. Playing around with Lane Whitmore would be on her terms, and only in her free time. She’d enjoy it while it lasted, but there would be no expectations or attachments.