Wet and Reckless (Private Pleasures 4)

“Tell her thank you for me.” She twisted around to tuck the volume inside the zebra-striped tote bag she’d hung on the back of the barstool. “I’ll take good care of the book and get it back to you sometime tomorrow. Day after at the latest.”

“No rush.” The redhead shifted her attention to Roger. “You handled Miz Lillian’s final affairs?”

“Our firm. Technically, she was my father’s client, but I’m familiar with her estate because I did most of the work setting up her will, the trust, and the bequest.” His lips curved into a pained smile. “From behind the scenes, of course.”

“Why from behind the scenes?” Roxy asked.

“Miz Lillian didn’t much approve of me.” He punctuated the observation with a long pull from his beer.

“From what I hear about my grandma, she didn’t approve of most people. Did you let your dog trespass onto a blade of her grass or park your car too close to her mailbox?”

“I think her problem with me stemmed from my lifestyle. She tried to use her bequest to pressure Reverend Carlson into banning me from Bluelick Baptist unless and until I ‘renounced the sin of homosexuality.’”

“The sin of…oh, my God.” She spared a moment to say as silent farewell to the fantasy of this pretty man sweeping her off her feet, but she was less successful at covering up her outrage over her grandmother’s intolerance. “She sounds hateful.” A gulp of her tea did little to calm her.

Roger’s pinched smile loosened into something resigned. “She was from a different generation, and life had disappointed her.”

“I hope Reverend Carlson disappointed her.”

“In his steady, gentle way. He talked to her about the grace and beauty of compassion and not judging lest ye be judged.”

“I’m glad he swayed her heart.”

“It might be more accurate to say she got distracted. Something arose that she found even more offensive than two men trying to build a life together. Around the same time Miz Lillian started on her kick, a corruption scandal came to light involving our then-mayor and the County Sheriff. Suddenly she had honest-to-God bad guys to condemn. Venting her ire on them took up the rest of her energy.”

Her mom and dad had never said much about her grandmother, but she’d figured enough from their sketchy explanations of why they didn’t communicate to realize her grandmother was capable of stubbornly holding to a hard line. “I really appreciate you meeting with me, especially considering she could not have been your favorite person.”

“Well, Reverend Carlson’s sermon on compassion is pretty darn persuasive,” he joked. But then he placed his beer on the bar and his expression sobered. “Unfortunately, I don’t have any good news for you, Roxy. Your grandmother left her estate to the church. They called in the liquidators shortly after she passed, and everything was sold or donated to charity. There’s nothing left except some tax papers and other documents our firm is holding for the legally required retention period. I suppose you could contest the validity of the will, but given you didn’t have a relationship with her—”

“Oh, no.” She put a hand on Roger’s arm. “I would never. Her legacy was hers to do with as she saw fit. I was just hoping for”—she expelled a breath and traced her thumbnail along the edge of the bar—“family ties. Maybe some memories.”

Addy patted her arm. “I’m sorry, honey.”

“I can’t believe I missed my chance by a lousy six months.”

“If it’s any consolation,” Roger said, “she wasn’t a sentimental lady. The liquidators didn’t stumble across boxes of keepsakes. She didn’t have a single picture or memento of your mom, as far as I know.”

The thought left her sadder, actually, but she dredged up a smile and focused on the bright side. “I’m glad she found generosity in her soul and decided to be charitable, and I’m glad she had you looking after her last wishes, even if she wasn’t grateful.”

“To Lillian Belle,” he said solemnly and raised his glass. “May she rest in peace.”

Addy raised her glass as well, and Roxy followed suit. “Rest in peace.”

The pub’s doors swung open to admit a new group of patrons, and seconds later, the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She turned to find a pair of long-muscled legs encased in jeans that bulged and gave in all the right places. A ladder of abs draped in a white T-shirt grabbed her attention next. Her agile gaze willingly made the climb, clung for a moment to a solid span of chest, and then scrambled up a smooth throat to an angled jaw that clenched under her inspection. The sight set off a sympathetic clench deep inside her. Her eyes ended the journey at a moody stare. Her mouth went dry despite her tea.

West.

Chapter Seven

West stopped short, caught in a blue-green tractor beam. Junior barreled into him from behind. “Damn it, Donovan. You testing my reflexes already? I haven’t had me a single drink yet.”

He sent the man of the hour a smile, but his gaze stayed stuck on the sight that had put the hitch in his stride. Roxy sat at the bar flanked by Addy and Roger, looking like some kind of Hell’s Angel pixie between a couple Brooks Brothers models.

Junior thumped him on the shoulder with his bear-paw of a hand, hard enough to make West’s teeth slam together. “Oops. Pardon my shitty reflexes.”

“First round’s on me,” West volunteered, mainly to have an excuse to go to the bar where Roxy now laughed at something Roger said. The movement caused the skinny strap of her slinky red top to slide off her shoulder. His fingers twitched with the need to put it right. “Grab some tables and let’s get the official, unofficial Junior Tillman bachelor party rolling.”

“Relax,