For the Love of a Lush (Lush No. 2) by Selena Laurence Read Free Book Online

breaking her heart. She’s a lovely girl, but I don’t need her blubbering all over my new linens."
    I clear my throat, horribly overwhelmed at the idea of Tammy brokenhearted. My head is tipped down to listen to the ancient furor, and as I glance up to look her in the eye, I realize that she’s waiting for me to respond.
    "Um, I’ll do my best, Mrs. Stallworth."
    "Good," she answers. She walks to the foot of the stairs and presses a button in a panel on the wall.
    I hear a muffled voice that I recognize as Tammy’s come from the speaker. "Yes?"
    "That boy’s here," Mrs. Stallworth barks into the intercom.
    "I’ll be right down," Tammy responds.
    The old lady turns back to me. "All right. You can wait in there." She gestures to a room behind more glass doors that sits alongside the entryway we’re in. I nod and make my way in to sit.
    The place looks like a florist had an accident in it. The chairs and sofa are floral, the carpet is floral, the curtains are floral—but all different florals. It’s enough to make your head spin. I wonder briefly if there isn’t somewhere else we can talk, but before the thought gets completed, Tammy walks in, and the last bit of breath in my body leaves in a whoosh.
    She’s got on a pair of cut-offs with a red patterned halter top that looks like it’s made from bandanas and leaves her very toned midsection exposed. On her feet is a pair of high wedge-heeled sandals that make her already long legs look endless. I swallow before my eyes run up the length of her to meet her dark gaze, all long lashes and glossy hair that hangs loose over her shoulders, skimming her perfect breasts.
    "Were you expecting someone?" I ask, joking because I can’t believe she dressed like this to lie around the boarding house with little old Mrs. Stallworth.
    She scowls at me, seeming perplexed. "No, I was about to go out and look around town though."
    "Like hell you were," I snarl before I can stop myself, a flash in my mind of every guy in town seeing Tammy like I’m seeing her now.
    She jerks back, surprised at my outburst. "Um…" Her brows lift in question.
    I struggle to get myself under control, fisting my hands to stop the shaking that takes over me when I’m under stress. "You, uh… You can’t walk around here dressed like that. I mean, this isn’t Portland or L.A." I wave my hand up and down in front of her, trying not to let my eyes linger on any one part for more than a split second. "The heels and the skin and everything—it’s a bit much for a small conservative town, Tam."
    I walk over to an armchair and throw myself down, exhausted already and I haven’t even started making amends yet.
    Instead of coming to sit, Tammy leans back against the wall next to the door, crosses her arms, and narrows her eyes at me. I breathe out a sigh of relief. This is my Tammy, the one who takes charge, tells you what to do and when, and takes no prisoners.
    "Since when do you care what I’m wearing, Walsh? For the last fourteen years, I’ve chosen my own wardrobe and you’ve never had a word to say about it—unless it was, ‘Take it off.’" She finishes with a knowing little smile.
    I clear my throat, images of her dropping those tiny cut-offs to the floor and climbing on my lap skittering through my mind. Yeah, my mama didn’t raise any fools. Tammy’s best outfit by far has always been her own silky skin.
    "Sorry. I know it’s none of my business what you wear. I just… Well, things are a lot different here than in Portland, and I don’t want you to get hassled or anything. The local cowboys can be pretty raunchy, you know?"
    I see her lips twitch just the tiniest bit before she answers. "Point taken." She finally pushes off the wall and strides over to sit on a chair across the coffee table from me. "So I’m glad to see you but kind of surprised given what you said this afternoon."
    I put one ankle up on the opposite knee, trying to create a barrier between us, something to cushion the