Free Now You See Me by Kris Fletcher Page B

this rate, she could pose for the “before” pictures in an ad for sunscreen.
    “I’m sorry. That was incredibly rude. It’s just, I was wondering—did you know Glenn? My husband? Back in school, I mean.”
    He seemed to tense for a second, though so quickly that Lyddie was sure she had imagined it. “Sure I did. Not really well—he was a year ahead of me—but we were in the church senior-high group together for a while.”
    Two facts registered at the same time: if he’d been a year behind Glenn, then she and J.T. were probably the same age. And the thought of the Comeback Cove hellion in a church youth group was almost enough to make her snort with laughter.
    “I have a favor to ask.” She spoke quickly to cover her giggles. Once again she outlined her request. Surely even a church group had to have had some wild times with J.T. involved.
    * * *
    S HE SPOKE SO QUIETLY that he had to lean close to catch all her words. Not that he minded. The nearer he drew to her skin, the more aware he was of a subtle perfume even more alluring than the crab apple scent filling the air. There was a warmth that surrounded her. Maybe it was all that pink—the faint rose that washed her cheeks, the deeper hue of her dress.
    He’d never seen her in anything but work clothes. The long shorts she usually wore were definitely all business. But this skirt that kind of drifted around her shins, well, that lent a whole different interpretation to the bit of leg visible below. The pant things said go no further. The dress—
    “So do you think you could help me out?”
    Damn. She’d caught him unprepared. “Sorry?”
    “Okay, I guess I garbled that. I need a story or two. About Glenn. One in which he’s something less than a saint.”
    Could he tell tales on Glenn? Hell, yeah. Including at least one that he could guarantee she had no desire to hear.
    The irony of her request made him look away. He could well understand her desire to have her kids learn some new things about their father, but cripes, Glenn had died saving this town. Nothing would be served by telling them things that would minimize what he had done, what they had lost.
    But surely he could come up with something. And to tell the truth, he was feeling a bit lost himself after paying his respects to his own father. He would be grateful for the chance to make some kids smile.
    “Lead the way.”
    He followed her to the group beneath the tree. Harley Prestwick wouldn’t take kindly to being replaced, but tough. If the kids’ slumped shoulders and glazed eyes were any indication, this crowd had checked out a long time ago. He was pretty sure the only things holding them in place were inertia and good manners.
    “...and I looked at my boy Jeff and I said to him, yes sir, you watch that Brewster boy and you’ll be in great shape.” Harley beamed at his audience, then caught sight of J.T. His mouth twisted as if he’d tasted something sour. “Hello, J.T.”
    “Afternoon, Harley. Hi, guys. I’m J. T. Delaney, and I know you’ve all heard about me so you can stop pretending to be polite when I know you want to stare.” That got him a grin from the boy, who said his name was Ben. The oldest girl, Sara, blushed as she introduced herself and stared off in the distance, just like her mother. The little girl eyed him up and down.
    “I’m Tish. What’s J.T. mean?”
    “It’s my initials. Justin Tanner. But around here it means Just Trouble.”
    Well, that certainly wiped the smile from Lydia’s face.
    Tish studied him again, then propped her hands on her hips. “I don’t believe you. You’re too nice for that name.”
    Damn. Outed by a kid. Did she get that ability to see beyond the surface from her mother?
    “So I hear you guys want to hear about your dad when he was a kid.”
    Harley stirred from the turtle-in-the-shell pose he’d taken up when J.T. started talking. “We’re fine here, J.T. I told them all they need to know.”
    More like he’d turned a