Read Online Sultry with a Twist by Macy Beckett - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Macy Beckett
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never been an affectionate woman to begin with, and after so many years apart, June wasn’t used to Gram’s touch.
“I go by June now.” She folded her arms over her breasts. It seemed wrong wearing an immodest tank top and khaki shorts in the Lord’s house, but lawn mowing was hot work, and the temperature was supposed to top ninety again.
“Did I hear Mae-June’s voice?” A gaggle of ladies in the lobby shuffled into the sanctuary. Apparently, June was a celebrity now.
Ms. Bicknocker straightened her spine and peered down her long nose. She’d once been the pariah of Sultry County, until she found God after working the pole for twelve years in a Houston gentleman’s club. Now she looked just as constipated as everyone else. “I see you’re not married,” she said, glimpsing June’s left hand in clear condemnation. “What’re you up to these days?”
June glanced at Grammy, not sure what to say. These ladies were hard-core advocates for the prohibition of sinful vices like booze, and she didn’t want to start any trouble.
“Well, now,” Gram said, wrapping one arm around June’s shoulder. “June’s got her own business. A…bar. Sounds real special with an aquarium an’ everything.” Holy buttered biscuits, she almost sounded proud!
“I see.” Ms. Bicknocker shook her head disapprovingly. “And where do you go to church?”
June grinned and slipped her hands in her back pockets. “I belong to Our Lady of Infinite Lazy Sunday Mornings on the Sofa.”
That joke usually elicited laughs, at least a snicker or two, but no smiles broke out this time. Tough crowd.
“Mmm,” came the disappointed response.
Pastor McMahon wrinkled his mouth and tipped his head forward like he was praying for June’s soul. “May I ask why you don’t attend service?”
Was there a tactful, mature way to say, ’Cause I don’t wanna ? “I’ve just been so busy.”
The pastor nodded in understanding. He’d probably heard that one before.
June decided this was the perfect moment to excuse herself. “I should start on the lawn before it gets too hot.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Leaving the cool lobby behind, she followed Pastor McMahon outside to the storage shed. “There’s a gas can in there,” he said. “But don’t forget to let the mower cool off before you refill it. And come inside if you get too hot. There’s iced tea in the fellowship hall.”
She thanked him and tugged open the heavy wood door. The hot, musty air inside the shed parched June’s skin, making her face itchy and tight, and by the time she’d tugged the mower out and found the gas can, her tank top was damp with sweat. That glass of iced tea sounded awfully good, but she had too much pride to take a break before actually doing anything.
After filling the gas tank, June primed the motor and yanked the start cord a few times until the engine turned over and rumbled to life. She started near the building and worked her way out, mowing in meticulous, straight lines. No way she’d mess up like yesterday—this would be the neatest, trimmest lawn anyone had ever seen. An hour later, she stood back and admired her work and then rewarded herself with two tall glasses of tea.
The grass was taller and thick with weeds at the back of the property where the church grounds met a fallow field, so June slowed her pace, lifting the front of the mower every few feet so it didn’t choke and shut off. It was dull, monotonous work, so she let her mind wander, imagining opening night at Luquos. But while June tried to decide which outfit to wear, her thoughts drifted to Luke. What was he doing right now? Maybe demolishing Jenkins’s rotted back deck. Did he think about her? Doubtful. In every relationship—or in their case, friendship—there was always one person who gave more. That person had always been her. Besides, he was so busy now he couldn’t spare a second to think about anything but work.
She probably wouldn’t see Luke at
“I go by June now.” She folded her arms over her breasts. It seemed wrong wearing an immodest tank top and khaki shorts in the Lord’s house, but lawn mowing was hot work, and the temperature was supposed to top ninety again.
“Did I hear Mae-June’s voice?” A gaggle of ladies in the lobby shuffled into the sanctuary. Apparently, June was a celebrity now.
Ms. Bicknocker straightened her spine and peered down her long nose. She’d once been the pariah of Sultry County, until she found God after working the pole for twelve years in a Houston gentleman’s club. Now she looked just as constipated as everyone else. “I see you’re not married,” she said, glimpsing June’s left hand in clear condemnation. “What’re you up to these days?”
June glanced at Grammy, not sure what to say. These ladies were hard-core advocates for the prohibition of sinful vices like booze, and she didn’t want to start any trouble.
“Well, now,” Gram said, wrapping one arm around June’s shoulder. “June’s got her own business. A…bar. Sounds real special with an aquarium an’ everything.” Holy buttered biscuits, she almost sounded proud!
“I see.” Ms. Bicknocker shook her head disapprovingly. “And where do you go to church?”
June grinned and slipped her hands in her back pockets. “I belong to Our Lady of Infinite Lazy Sunday Mornings on the Sofa.”
That joke usually elicited laughs, at least a snicker or two, but no smiles broke out this time. Tough crowd.
“Mmm,” came the disappointed response.
Pastor McMahon wrinkled his mouth and tipped his head forward like he was praying for June’s soul. “May I ask why you don’t attend service?”
Was there a tactful, mature way to say, ’Cause I don’t wanna ? “I’ve just been so busy.”
The pastor nodded in understanding. He’d probably heard that one before.
June decided this was the perfect moment to excuse herself. “I should start on the lawn before it gets too hot.”
“I’ll walk you out.”
Leaving the cool lobby behind, she followed Pastor McMahon outside to the storage shed. “There’s a gas can in there,” he said. “But don’t forget to let the mower cool off before you refill it. And come inside if you get too hot. There’s iced tea in the fellowship hall.”
She thanked him and tugged open the heavy wood door. The hot, musty air inside the shed parched June’s skin, making her face itchy and tight, and by the time she’d tugged the mower out and found the gas can, her tank top was damp with sweat. That glass of iced tea sounded awfully good, but she had too much pride to take a break before actually doing anything.
After filling the gas tank, June primed the motor and yanked the start cord a few times until the engine turned over and rumbled to life. She started near the building and worked her way out, mowing in meticulous, straight lines. No way she’d mess up like yesterday—this would be the neatest, trimmest lawn anyone had ever seen. An hour later, she stood back and admired her work and then rewarded herself with two tall glasses of tea.
The grass was taller and thick with weeds at the back of the property where the church grounds met a fallow field, so June slowed her pace, lifting the front of the mower every few feet so it didn’t choke and shut off. It was dull, monotonous work, so she let her mind wander, imagining opening night at Luquos. But while June tried to decide which outfit to wear, her thoughts drifted to Luke. What was he doing right now? Maybe demolishing Jenkins’s rotted back deck. Did he think about her? Doubtful. In every relationship—or in their case, friendship—there was always one person who gave more. That person had always been her. Besides, he was so busy now he couldn’t spare a second to think about anything but work.
She probably wouldn’t see Luke at
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