A Bad Boy is Good to Find - By Jennifer Lewis Page 0,96
Beale would see right through her.
“I’ll sit in the middle.” Con climbed in, then held out his hand to help her up. The big old truck had a funky smell to it. She buckled herself in, then Con slid his arm around her shoulders and relief crept through her tight muscles.
“Danny, did you see the news story?” She’d missed that part of the conversation due to Dwight’s arrival.
“I didn’t, but when I went to get some breakfast after work, turns out everybody else in town saw it and heard my name.” His deep voice was rich with humor. “So I called the number, they asked me to come in and meet with a producer. I went straight there. Haven’t even changed my clothes. I don’t think they knew what to make of me.” He looked past Con and grinned at her. Two rows of perfectly straight white teeth, just like Con’s.
“Anyway, they sat me down and a girl asked me my age and all my particulars.” His hand on the wheel looked huge, dirty nails. They were following the taillights of the van with the rest of the crew in it, piloted by Maisie, and Dwight’s rental car was behind them. “Then they asked me the trick question Con came up with to weed out the fakers.”
“What was it?”
“They asked me what the name of our pig was.”
Con grinned and tightened his arm around her. “I told Lizzie about our pet pig. That’s what gave me the idea. I figured no one but you would know the answer.”
The weight of his arm drew tension from her shoulders, and the spicy, musky scent of him made her want to bury her face in his neck.
“And what was the name?”
Danny looked at her. “Delilah.” His mouth fought a smile. “Con came up with it. He always did have an imagination.”
They both laughed. It was nice to see Con so happy. He glowed with pleasure. She could feel the heat of his excitement rolling right off his skin.
“Man, do we have a lot of catching up to do! You still live around here?”
“Been living over on Bayou Lafourche the last couple of years. I’ve got my own shrimper. It’s a sixty-footer.”
“Alright! I knew you’d make it.”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. Well, I hoped so anyway. I figured anyone who could make crab traps out of nothing the way you did was going to amount to something.” They laughed again.
Something was hanging from the rearview mirror. A string of pointy teeth?
“And what about you? You look like you’re doing alright.”
“Me? Oh, I’m getting by. Finding Lizzie’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” He gave her a squeeze.
Her eyes popped open and a surge of warmth flooded through her. The best thing that ever happened to me?
“If it wasn’t for her, I wouldn’t be back down here. I’m not ashamed to tell you, I was running scared. I had no idea the old man was dead. But Lizzie decided I had to face up to my past, and here I am.”
“And what’s all this about you comin’ into that house? I couldn’t see much in the dark but it looked like a big heap.”
“Yeah. Well, if it’s mine, and they say it is, it’s yours too, bro.”
Danny chuckled. “I never did too well in houses. I like to have water under me, but I’ll be happy to come spend time with you there.”
Danny obviously had an upbeat, easygoing personality like Con. He explained that he’d gone to live with an elderly fisherman friend in a nearby parish, dodging social services until he was too old for them to bother with him. When Con confessed the shame he felt at leaving him, Danny teared up and cursed at him for feeling guilty. His driving became a little erratic as he put his arm around Con and said he never gave up hope that they’d see each other again. Lizzie sniffed back her own tears. This reunion was partly her doing. A warm glow filled the cab, and she let herself bask in it.
The van ahead of them pulled up in front of a colorful seafood joint with Papa Ron’s on the sign out front. It reminded Lizzie of a Cape Cod clam shack.
“Good choice,” said Danny, pulling in next to the van. “I’m ready for some celebrating!”
Dinner was a raucous affair involving steaming platters of seafood and rice and shocking quantities of beer in iced jugs. Lizzie was the only one not drinking, and the conversation got more