His Southern Temptation - By Robin Covington Page 0,33

not be what you need anymore.”

He had to stand up or go crazy. Lately, everything he wanted was something he couldn’t have—the farm, Taylor—it was so frustrating. Moving was the only thing that was going to keep him from yelling.

“If I were Tim you wouldn’t hesitate.”

His father didn’t react to the low blow except for a slight shift in his shoulders. The deep impact of the words etched in the tightness in his expression. If he was here to try to build bridges, this was not the way to do it. They’d never been close—not like his dad had been with his brother, Tim—and the strain after his death had pushed them further apart. This wasn’t helping, but damn he was sick of feeling like the runner-up son.

“You’re right. Your brother wanted to farm this land since the day he was born, but you didn’t. I wouldn’t be much of a father if I let you take on this farm because you feel like you need to bail your old man out.”

He was right. He’d never wanted this when he was little. But his first thought when he’d dropped his resignation papers on his commanding officer’s desk was to come home and never leave this place. Well, the second thought, anyway. His first one had been of hazel eyes and a woman he wanted more than his next breath.

“David.” He was surprised to see his dad so close and using his given name. He’d moved across the room when Lucky had been lost in thought and now he reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, the grip strong and the warmth seeping through his T-shirt. “I’m not saying no, but I want you to think about it. Make sure it’s what you need to have peace. I’ve got some time before I have to get back to the Summerfield people.”

His father started to leave, but paused, looking straight into Lucky’s eyes with his parting words. “You know, this life wouldn’t have been anything without your mama to share it with. Maybe what you’re looking for isn’t a place but a person.”

Lucky listened to his sure footsteps retreat across the floor, the whoosh of the front door and the clang of the screen prompting him to act. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but he thought it might have been the first real conversation he’d had with his father in fifteen years. It left him unsettled, a little pissed off, and raw. His dad said he needed to find his peace. He knew it was here and he understood his father’s hesitation. He just wasn’t sure how he could convince him.

Taylor. The person he wanted to talk to most wasn’t speaking to him because he’d been a jackass and treated her like a child. She’d found a new path, thrown off everything she thought she knew, and took off on faith. She was so sure of her future. Maybe she could help him find his own.

Chapter Twelve

If the Southern Comfort Diner was the heart of the town, then Sissy’s Southern Style was the mouth.

The bell jangled over the door of the beauty salon as Taylor entered with Dr. Michaela Cantrell. The chatter died down for the briefest moment, but then surged again, the ladies resuming their conversations without missing a beat. Familiar scents of coffee, perm solution, and the uniquely southern hairstyling staple of Aqua Net hairspray enticed them inside the bustling shop. The place was full of women in various stages of getting beautified, while some were just here for the news. Growing up, Taylor’s mother had said that Elliott didn’t need a post office when you had Sissy’s.

“Well, I’d say you’re definitely in the top five of newsworthy topics today,” Michaela said as they slid into the side-by-side mani-pedi chairs. Her smooth and twang-free voice was perfectly suited for the tall, cool blonde.

“What? They barely looked at me.”

“Exactly. Talking about you is one thing, but staring is rude.” Michaela laughed.

Her feet slid into the warm, swirling water and Taylor sighed as the tension left her body. Sleep had eluded her last night, but she’d had her anger for company.

Replaying the scene from the jail in her head for the millionth time, Taylor still couldn’t believe how it had all gone down. Teague’s attitude wasn’t a big surprise—he’d written the manual for overbearing brothers with a stick up their ass. But Lucky was a different story. It hurt to have him treat her like a kid and not