Naked Attraction

Sweeney was definitely a weasel. Short and slight of build, he was pale-skinned, with a face constructed entirely of points—a sharp chin, beak nose, jutting cheekbones. Everybody knew he collected bets on races, but Sheriff Kemp had never caught him red-handed. Sweeney was no stranger to Robby, either. And now he tried not to think of how, years ago, Max would corner Robby’s old man, Charlie, in the Night Rider and ply him with booze, wearing down his resistance. Once Charlie couldn’t think straight, Max would get him to bet on various sports games. Horses, cars, football, you name it.

Then, when Charlie lost, there was no way to pay Max, since Max had already encouraged Charlie to spend his paycheck on booze. So then Max would turn around and demand exorbitant interest on whatever Charlie owed.

To add insult to injury, Max, himself, had a son only a few years older than Robby on whom Max had doted. Johnny Sweeney had the good grace not to look like his father, too, and some of the stupider girls around the surrounding bayous had fallen for him. The fact that he was always flush with cash helped.

Max had given his only son everything. He’d driven late model, high-end cars since he’d gotten a license, and he’d gone to top-of-the-line schools, both prep and college. He’d experienced a life of travel and privilege, and now he was a lawyer, practicing part-time in a nearby town called Sunset Bayou.

“Damn loan shark,” Daddy Eddie spat out with displeasure, speaking of Max.

Robby merely shrugged. What he wouldn’t do to bring the guy down, though. He wasn’t defending his old man, of course. The instinct was purely selfish. Sweeney belonged behind bars, if only for the nights Robby had gone hungry after he’d gotten Charlie Robriquet to squander the rent and grocery money.

If it hadn’t been for Patricia Lee, Ellie’s mother and Daddy Eddie’s wife, Robby figured he would have starved to death. To this day, he was fairly certain Daddy Eddie had no idea how many times his wife had come calling at the shack Charlie and Robby had called home. Always, she’d drop off leftovers or an “extra” pie she’d made.

Not that Robby had minded taking her charity. He’d once heard Daddy Eddie say that Patricia Lee’s smile could take the sting out of a bumblebee and that was the truth. She was, by far, the nicest, most maternal woman Robby had ever met. Sighing, he acknowledged once again that his ex-lover had gotten Daddy Eddie’s genes, not Patricia’s.

And that’s what drove Robby so crazy. Ellie was unpredictable, fiery and determined in everything she attempted, and Robby could never quite let go of the challenge…

Suddenly, his ears pricked up. At the bar, Clancy was showing Max the article about Ellie. Just the thought of the weasel’s eyes on a picture of Ellie made Robby’s blood boil. When he heard Max’s insinuating voice, his fingers curled into a fist.

“She sure knows how to call ‘em,” Max said, his high-pitched, nasal voice traveling. “Knowledge like hers would sure come in handy at a racetrack.” He chortled. “Not that I’m a gambling man.”

“It’s a good thing my daughter uses her talents for nobler causes,” Daddy Eddie called, raising his voice just enough to be heard over the jukebox, which was now playing one of J. D. Johnson’s songs. The tune was a slow, soul-wrenching love song that only served to remind Robby of Ellie.

“Oh, Eddie,” returned Max. “Hey, there. I didn’t see you.”

“Look before you leap,” Daddy Eddie suggested.

Max arched an eyebrow. “Did I say something to offend you? Why, I figured you’d feel proud to see your daughter in a big-city newspaper like that.”

But Max had said Ellie’s talents might be useful to him. “I’m proud of my daughter,” Daddy Eddie returned, “whether she makes the papers or not.”

Fortunately, Max was only getting a six-pack to go, and as soon as Clancy bagged the brews, Robby figured he’d be out the door. No such luck. Once he’d shoved the bag under his arm, Max sauntered toward them and stopped in front of the table.

“A lot’s going on around here, eh? Ellie’s her daddy’s own competitor now?” he said conversationally. “And last time I was down at Delia’s Diner, listening to the gossip, I heard Robby’s got some exciting news, himself.”

Robby said nothing. All his senses were on heightened alert, and maybe if he was lucky, he would manage not to rise and throttle the man. Already, he was imagining the pleasure of contact when his fist pummeled Max Sweeney’s jaw. He could hear the crack, the ugly split of flesh, feel a trickle of blood. “What do you want, Max?”

“Just starting a conversation,” Max said innocently.

“Well, I think Robby just finished it,” said Daddy Eddie.

“I’m being neighborly,” attested Max. “And I figured he must be feeling good today. In fact, I figured maybe you two were having lunch to celebrate.”

The weasel was referring to Charlie’s homecoming next week. After eight years in jail for manslaughter, Robby’s father was finally being released. “Why do you always try to talk to me about my old man, Max?” Robby found himself challenging, his low voice controlled and scarcely audible over the sound of one of the jukeboxes. “I mean, you never did either of us any favors. So what’s it to you?”

“Just being neighborly, like I said. A man’s got to care about his community.”

What hogwash. Luckily, the door swung open again, and a slice of autumnal light cut across the linoleum floor of the bar. For a second, despite the circumstances, Robby almost smiled, since J. D. Johnson had appeared in the open doorway, backlit by the sun, which threw him into silhouette. He sported a thin white shirt, despite the day being cool for October in Mississippi, and he wore threadbare jeans, boots and a Stetson hat. “Looks like my gunslinger friend just showed up,” Robby said. “So why don’t you get lost, Sweeney.”

Taking the hint, the man turned away, passing J.D. as he came toward Robby and Daddy Eddie’s table, with his wife, Susannah, right behind him. Over his shoulder, Max called, “I’ll be wishing the best for your family, Robby.”

“Bastard,” muttered J.D., standing in front of the booth, exactly where Max had been just a moment before.

“That’s what I said,” returned Daddy Eddie. Then, “Hi, Susannah. Sorry you had to hear the rough language, sweetheart. ”

“Nothing I don’t hear from J.D. at home.”

“Hey, Suze,” said Robby.

She smiled, and when she did, it brought Robby a whole new wave of heartbreak, recalling the good times he and Ellie had hanging around J.D. and Susannah. Why, Ellie and Susannah had been inseparable from birth, and although Ellie was doing well in New York, Robby couldn’t help but imagine she wouldn’t be happier back at home in Banner. Face it, he thought now, she’d be a fish out of water in the city. Successful, but without her family and friends.

Nowadays, Susannah always made things worse for Robby—always talking about how good Ellie looked, how happy she was working for herself, and how she seemed to secretly miss him, something Robby very much doubted.

“Hey, stranger,” Susannah said, ruffling Robby’s hair.

“Careful,” he warned, catching her hand.

“Afraid I’ll make your girlfriends jealous?” she teased.

“That or your husband,” said J.D.

Robby rolled his eyes. He had no girlfriends. Everybody knew that, and most, except Patricia and Daddy Eddie, knew why, too. Ellie had left him in the dirt because he’d ascended the ranks at Lee Polls.

“Hey, there,” he said on a sigh. “Pull up a chair, you two, although I warn you, Daddy Eddie and I are headed back to work soon.”

“We’re only here for takeout,” Susannah explained. “In fact, if you two can occupy J.D., I’ll head to the bar and see if our call-in order is ready.”

Robby grinned, glancing at the friend he’d known since grade school. “Is J.D. bothering you again, Susannah? Maybe I ought to beat him up for you.”

Before she could answer, J.D. had circled his wife’s waist, hauled her against his side, angled his head down and delivered a sloppy kiss. Giggling, she said, “See how he treats me!”

“Always having his way with you,” Robby agreed. “He deserves punishment, no doubt.”

“She loves it,” protested J.D.

“Well, all your lovin’ has left me as hungry as a horse,” Susannah said, whirling and offering her backside as she headed for the bar.

“Helluvu woman,” J.D. complimented his wife, tilting back his Stetson and grinning.

“Don’t rub it in,” Robby complained.

“Yes, Robby works too damn hard,” Daddy Eddie put in. “He needs to find himself a woman.”

“That so,” J.D. said with a wry grin.

Taking a deep breath, Robby met J.D.’s eyes over the head of the older man, reminding him to keep mum. Yeah, Robby figured it would be best if Daddy Eddie never guessed at his private life. Determined not to be the focus, Robby quickly introduced the hot topic around town, the budding relationship between Sheriff Kemp and Delia, which gave the men a few minutes of mileage.

Then, of course, the topic rolled around to Robby again. “Maybe he’ll go somewhere hot and steamy on his vacay,” said Daddy Eddie.