thirty-five. At least not at a distance. Petite but with curves in all the right places. Her shapely body filled out a pair of red capri pants, and her full breasts strained against the red-and-white cotton halter top. Her thick, black hair had been cut in the latest short fashion. A pair of large fourteen-karat gold hoops dangled from her ears. As she approached the garage entrance, she lowered her sunglasses and peered over the rims at Reed. When she recognized him, she threw up her hand and waved.
“Hi, there, Reed.” Cybil Carlisle bestowed one of her thousand-watt smiles on him. “Welcome home.”
“Hello, Mrs. Carlisle.”
Before Cybil could advance their conversation, Briley Joe opened the door to the office and came outside to greet their customer.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Carlisle.” Briley Joe appraised her obvious physical assets, skimming her from top to bottom. A smug, I’ve-had-some-of-that-and-it-was-good grin spread across his face.
Her smile broadened when she turned her attention to Briley Joe. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about tuning up my engine.”
“Come on into my office and let’s discuss your problem.”
Briley Joe held open the door for Cybil, who slunk past him and into the cool air-conditioned interior. Before he followed her inside, he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and winked at Reed.
Reed laughed, then shook his head. Hell, that Briley Joe was a hound dog. Screwing around with Jeff Henry Carlisle’s wife wasn’t the smartest thing his cousin had ever done. He could understand the fascination, but no piece of ass was worth risking your life. Enraged husbands shot their wives’ lovers every day of the week. And a guy as rich as Jeff Henry was the type to hire somebody else to do the dirty work while keeping his own hands clean.
Personally, Reed had never liked Jeff Henry. Too much of a snob, and a fancy-pants to boot. Reed hated that his mother still worked as the Carlisles’ housekeeper. She’d been with the family since he was a little boy. He could well remember the times he’d stood sulking in the kitchen, warned by his mother to stay out of sight and be quiet, that Mr. Jeff Henry didn’t like being bothered by children. But he’d soon learned that one child in particular had free rein in the Carlisle household. The little princess, Ella Porter. Not only had she been allowed to play in any room of the house, she’d often sat in Jeff Henry’s lap and drunk lemonade while Reed peered around the corner. In the beginning he had envied Ella, and later on, after his sister, Regina, was born, he had disliked Ella intensely. He had somehow gotten the notion in his head that Jeff Henry was Regina’s father, and that being the fact, he wondered why Jeff Henry didn’t hold Regina in his lap, read stories to her, and let her have the run of his home. Of course, by the time he was twelve, he realized that his mother’s employer probably wasn’t his sister’s father after all. When he was twelve, just a few days before she married Junior Blalock, his mother had kissed Webb Porter. Reed had seen them there in the Carlisles’ garden. He might have been just a kid, but he knew the difference between a passionate embrace and a friendly hug. In a rather loud voice, Webb had asked Judy not to marry Junior. But before Reed had gotten close enough to hear his mother’s soft response, Ella had come running from the Porters’ backyard, calling for her father.
As a teenager, Reed had asked his mother who Regina’s father was, and she’d told him it was none of his business. She’d denied that either Jeff Henry or Webb Porter was the man who’d gotten her pregnant. Giving birth to an illegitimate child had to have been torment for his mother, who was by anyone’s standards a good, decent woman. Having an abortion would have been out of the question for her. She was the religious type who believed that life began at conception.
Sweat dripped off Reed’s
“Hi, there, Reed.” Cybil Carlisle bestowed one of her thousand-watt smiles on him. “Welcome home.”
“Hello, Mrs. Carlisle.”
Before Cybil could advance their conversation, Briley Joe opened the door to the office and came outside to greet their customer.
“Afternoon, Mrs. Carlisle.” Briley Joe appraised her obvious physical assets, skimming her from top to bottom. A smug, I’ve-had-some-of-that-and-it-was-good grin spread across his face.
Her smile broadened when she turned her attention to Briley Joe. “I’m glad you’re here. I need to talk to you about tuning up my engine.”
“Come on into my office and let’s discuss your problem.”
Briley Joe held open the door for Cybil, who slunk past him and into the cool air-conditioned interior. Before he followed her inside, he paused, glanced over his shoulder, and winked at Reed.
Reed laughed, then shook his head. Hell, that Briley Joe was a hound dog. Screwing around with Jeff Henry Carlisle’s wife wasn’t the smartest thing his cousin had ever done. He could understand the fascination, but no piece of ass was worth risking your life. Enraged husbands shot their wives’ lovers every day of the week. And a guy as rich as Jeff Henry was the type to hire somebody else to do the dirty work while keeping his own hands clean.
Personally, Reed had never liked Jeff Henry. Too much of a snob, and a fancy-pants to boot. Reed hated that his mother still worked as the Carlisles’ housekeeper. She’d been with the family since he was a little boy. He could well remember the times he’d stood sulking in the kitchen, warned by his mother to stay out of sight and be quiet, that Mr. Jeff Henry didn’t like being bothered by children. But he’d soon learned that one child in particular had free rein in the Carlisle household. The little princess, Ella Porter. Not only had she been allowed to play in any room of the house, she’d often sat in Jeff Henry’s lap and drunk lemonade while Reed peered around the corner. In the beginning he had envied Ella, and later on, after his sister, Regina, was born, he had disliked Ella intensely. He had somehow gotten the notion in his head that Jeff Henry was Regina’s father, and that being the fact, he wondered why Jeff Henry didn’t hold Regina in his lap, read stories to her, and let her have the run of his home. Of course, by the time he was twelve, he realized that his mother’s employer probably wasn’t his sister’s father after all. When he was twelve, just a few days before she married Junior Blalock, his mother had kissed Webb Porter. Reed had seen them there in the Carlisles’ garden. He might have been just a kid, but he knew the difference between a passionate embrace and a friendly hug. In a rather loud voice, Webb had asked Judy not to marry Junior. But before Reed had gotten close enough to hear his mother’s soft response, Ella had come running from the Porters’ backyard, calling for her father.
As a teenager, Reed had asked his mother who Regina’s father was, and she’d told him it was none of his business. She’d denied that either Jeff Henry or Webb Porter was the man who’d gotten her pregnant. Giving birth to an illegitimate child had to have been torment for his mother, who was by anyone’s standards a good, decent woman. Having an abortion would have been out of the question for her. She was the religious type who believed that life began at conception.
Sweat dripped off Reed’s
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