Sweet Georgia Peach Read online

  “I don’t know. Where would you like to go?”

  “Well, to be honest, I need to hit a men’s clothing store.” He pointed to his shirt. “This thing is okay for now, but I can’t see myself coming to the eliminations tonight like this. Mrs. Fitzpatrick would have my head, and she already doesn’t think too highly of me.”

  London tried to smother a giggle, but it didn’t work. “I happen to like your shirt,” she said. “It shows a certain lack of snobbery. I mean, anyone who would wear that in public—who wasn’t a tourist—must be pretty down to earth.”

  “There’s down to earth, and then there’s unprofessional. It’s the unprofessional thing I’m trying to avoid.”

  “Then we’ll go clothes shopping.” London looked up and said thank you as the waitress slid their plates in front of them. “What else should we do?”

  “Really doesn’t matter to me. I just want to spend some time getting to know you better.”

  Even more suspicious. Hmm. “There is one thing I’ve always wanted to do, but haven’t done yet,” she said. “I’d like to visit the Wren’s Nest.”

  He gave her an exaggerated look of shock. “You’ve never been there? And you call yourself a native Altanta-ite?”

  “That’s not a word, so of course I don’t call myself that. But no, I’ve never been.”

  “Then we’re going.”

  “Good. I want to.”

  Kade pulled out his phone and punched some buttons. “Just need to see when they’re open . . . We’re in luck. They open at ten. Oh, but they only have storytellers on Saturdays . . . unless you make an appointment.” He grinned. “Hold on a second.”

  London sipped her orange juice as he placed a call. “Hello? Good morning. My name is Kade Smith. Yes, the football player. Um, no, not Superman, but yes, the one from the news. Hey, I saw that storytellers are available if we make an appointment. You can? Awesome. How about ten thirty? You’re great. Of course I will. See you in a while. Thanks.” He hung up and looked at London triumphantly. “There ya go. We’ll have a storyteller.”

  “So, you don’t like being a celebrity, but you’ll use it when it pays you to do so, eh?” she asked.

  “In this case, yes. And I think you’re trying to bait me, Miss Russell. Mind if I ask why?”

  “Um . . .” She took a bite of her eggs, thinking furiously. “I just want to see if you’re sincere about being a changed man,” she said at last. No reason not to be honest. “I seem to recall you playing lots of practical jokes on me, and if we’re going to be together for the next few hours, I ought to feel safe, don’t you think?”

  “You are completely entitled to feeling safe,” Kade said. “And I promise, you’re absolutely safe with me. I will play no practical jokes on you.”

  “Promise?”

  “I promise.”

  “Hmm. That’s almost disappointing.” She chewed a bite of hash browns, contemplating him. “If you’re not playing tricks on me, maybe you won’t be any fun.”

  “Well, we’ll see. Maybe there are ways to have fun that don’t involve embarrassing you.”

  “I would love to find out,” she replied.

  Chapter Nine

  Kade paid the bill for breakfast, then asked the doorman to hail a cab when they stepped outside. The Wren’s Nest was the home of Joel Chandler Harris, the man who had recorded the Br’er Rabbit stories, and the place was maintained to preserve the legacy of African-American folklore. He remembered his father telling him the story of Br’er Rabbit and the briar patch many times when he was a little boy, and he couldn’t believe that London had never visited this Atlanta landmark.

  When he asked her, she said, “You know how it is when you live somewhere—you think you’ll get around to it because it’s right there. And then you end up never going.”

  “Well, I’ve been there a couple of times, and it’s definitely something you don’t want to miss.”

  “You don’t need to sound so scoldy. I said I’ve always wanted to go, right? And we’re going there now because I chose it, aren’t we?”

  He grinned. “You’re right. I shouldn’t sound scoldy. Although, now who’s making up words?”

  “It’s not illegal. And I should know, because I’m pre-law.”

  The taxi pulled up at their destination, and Kade asked the driver to either meet them there in an hour or to send another car. He slipped an extra bill into the fee as an incentive, and the man smiled and promised that a car would be waiting. Then Kade and London walked up to the house and entered the world of Br’er Rabbit.

  As they listened to the storyteller and walked around the property, Kade kept glancing at London’s face. He wanted to see her every reaction. This was an integral part of his childhood, this author and these stories, and he wanted to know if she appreciated what she was seeing and hearing. She seemed to be taking it all in, and she took several pictures with her phone. Whether she was really interested or just seeking to appease him, he didn’t know. That was one thing he hoped to find out by spending time with her—just how much did he really know about her?

  The ride back to the shopping district was quiet. London scrolled through her pictures, smiling at one in particular.

  “What?” Kade asked.

  She handed him the phone. She’d taken a candid shot of him walking across the lawn while he was relating one of his favorite parts of the briar patch story, and he’d put his hands up on top of his head to imitate rabbit ears. “This is a very handsome picture of you, don’t you think? I’m sure my Facebook friends would love to see it.”

  “No! Come on, London, you can’t post it.” He fumbled with the unfamiliar phone, looking for the delete button, and found it. “Ha!”

  “Ha, nothing. I already emailed everything to myself. I have backups.”

  “That’s just evil.”

  “Is it evil to watch my back when I’m around you?”

  He squirmed a little in his seat. “No, I guess not. Driver, this next corner is fine.”

  London looked out the window as the car pulled to a stop. “This isn’t a clothes store.”

  “No, but it’s a nice place to start a walk.” Kade climbed out and extended his hand. “Coming?”

  She lifted an eyebrow, then smiled as she slid her hand into his. “Coming.”

  ***

  London really couldn’t have asked for a nicer day to be walking down the sidewalk with a good-looking man she didn’t like. The sun was warm, the sky was clear, and there was just a hint of a breeze. Maybe this was the right time to ask the question that had been eating her brain alive.

  “So, why did you ask me out this morning?”

  He glanced over at her. “Was there something wrong with me asking you out?”

  “No. It was just . . . unexpected. I mean, you don’t even like me, so it just seemed odd.”

  He stopped walking and turned toward her. “What do you mean, I don’t even like you?”

  She snorted—she couldn’t help it. “Oh, come on! All those jokes? All that hooting and hollering every time I walked in the lunchroom? Telling all the boys in school not to ask me to Homecoming? You don’t like me, Kade. In the first place, I don’t know why, and in the second place, I’m not sure why you’re trying to be all friendly now. You said you wanted to live it down, but . . . why? Are you doing a twelve-step program or something? Did you recently find out that you’re dying and you want to face God with a clear conscience?”

  Kade looked down and scuffed the sidewalk with the toe of his shoe. “I wanted to crack your shell a little bit. See what was underneath.”

  “My shell?” She shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

  He looked up and met her gaze. “The perfect pageant princess shell. You’d walk into school like you were wearing your latest tiara, and you treated everyone like they were your adoring public. There was nothing real there. You needed to be shaken up a bit. You needed to let your guard down once in a while. Maybe then you would have had
some friends.”

  She blinked, completely in shock. “I’m real! And I had friends!”

  “How many are you still in touch with?”

  She opened and closed her mouth a few times. “I . . .” Wait. Nope. He was right. “Okay, so, all my friends now are people I’ve met since then. But that’s not unusual! People don’t always stay in touch with their friends from high school. And who decided it was your job to do all that ‘shaking up,’ anyway?”

  “Never mind. I didn’t mean to make you angry.” Kade started walking again. London took a few running steps to catch up and grabbed his arm.

  “Just . . . just wait a second.” She held up both hands. “I’m not angry. Even though I should be. I’m just really confused. You had this master plan you were working the whole time . . . Aren’t I allowed to know more about it, since it had everything to do with me?”

  He ran a hand through his hair. “Okay, yes, you do.” He glanced around. “There’s a furniture store. Let’s go in and sit down and hash this out, all right?”

  “We can’t just chill at a furniture store if we’re not going to buy anything,” she pointed out.

  “Why not? And besides, who says I’m not going to buy anything? I need some new sofas for the house I’m renovating, and I might as well choose them now.”

  She shook her head as she followed him inside.

  “Mr. Smith!” The salesman by the counter hurried over, both hands outstretched. “It’s a pleasure to welcome you here. How can we help you?”

  “I’d like to sit on each of your couches and try them out,” Kade said. “If I find something I like, I’ll be making a purchase today.”

  “Excellent. Please feel free to wander our showroom, and wave when you find the one you like.”

  Kade winked at London and led her over to the first couch. The salesman stepped away, obviously trying to be discreet, but keeping an eye on them.

  “I feel a little awkward,” London whispered.

  “We’re just couch shopping,” Kade replied. “And talking. There’s no rule against talking while shopping, is there?”

  “I hope not.” She leaned back against the cushions. “This one’s nice.”

  Kade bounced up and down slightly. “It is nice. Now, about this plan I had in high school.”

  “Yes?” She was most definitely all ears.

  He leaned forward and put his elbows on his knees. “I thought that if you could loosen up a little bit, let people see what was really under the surface, then I’d know if . . .”

  “You’d know what?” she prompted when he stopped talking.

  “If I really was in love with you.”

  London couldn’t speak for a minute. In fact, she couldn’t even breathe. “What?” she managed to gasp out after a long minute.

  He ran his hand through his hair again. “In love with you. In love with you, London.”

  “But . . . why would you think you were in love with me?”

  “Because I was.” He stood up and walked over to the next couch. She followed automatically, unable to reply. What was happening here?

  When he sat down, he exhaled long and loud. “I just never had the guts to tell you, and that’s the whole sad story.”

  “Setting me up with Wendell for the prom . . .”

  “I wanted to see how you’d react to being with a real guy and not a hyped-up popular one.”

  She shook her head. “That doesn’t make sense, if you wanted me to be with you. You were a hyped-up popular one.”

  Kade winced. “Yeah, I know. But it was more about checking out your character than anything.”

  “And I had a good time with him, so I should have passed your little test, but you didn’t seem happy about it.”

  He rubbed his hands over the fabric of the couch. “That’s because I realized I should have taken you myself. Next.”

  She had a hard time keeping up with him as he made his way over to the next furniture grouping. “So, you put me through all that crap in high school because you wanted to get to know the real me, then you didn’t have the courage to tell the real me how you felt?”

  “Yeah, that’s about it.”

  London pinched the bridge of her nose between her fingers. “I’m getting a headache.”

  “Me too.”

  They moved on to the next couch, and other things he’d said started circulating through her head. “You know what? Now I am getting angry.” She folded her arms. “You teased me because you liked me. Don’t you know that’s the excuse that has been used since the dawn of time to let little boys get away with murder when it comes to how they treat little girls? Yeah. A little girl comes to her mother, reports that she’s being bullied, and the mother says, ‘That’s because he likes you,’ as though it’s some kind of honor to have your hair pulled or to have nasty things said to you.”

  Kade held up both hands. “I never meant it like that, London.”

  But she wasn’t done. “And furthermore, you talk about this shell I built around myself . . . it’s called survival. It’s not easy growing up the way I did—a single mother, a father who died under less-than-respectable circumstances, trying to make do with a tiny income. You learn to wall yourself off so you can push forward.”

  She glanced around, realizing she had raised her voice, and also realizing that people were now staring at them.

  “New couch,” Kade said, moving to one in the very back of the store.

  Once they were seated, he said, “I had no idea. Honestly, London, I didn’t. You seemed pretty okay with your dad’s death in the interviews.”

  That was just exasperating. “There’s a public face and a private face—you should know that very well. And while I’ve come to terms with the fact that he’s gone, there are all kinds of ripple effects that have been extremely hard to deal with. You could have asked, you know. You could have started a real conversation with me instead of playing your stupid little game. Aren’t there better ways to get to know someone than calling them out in public?”

  Kade ran his hand across his face. “You’re right. You’re totally right. I was arrogant and stupid. Dang it, London, I’m so sorry. Tell me . . . tell me how I can make this right.”

  London looked down at the floor. A part of her was quite pleased that he finally understood all the ramifications of what he’d done. But another part of her recognized that he did genuinely feel sorry. He deserved an honest answer.

  “I don’t think there is a way to set it right,” she said at long last. “How can you go back in the past and change things?”

  “You’re right,” Kade said abruptly. “We can’t.” He waved at the salesman, who scurried over with a big smile on his face. “I’ll take this couch, that loveseat, these two end tables, and those two lamps over there.”

  “But sir, that loveseat and those lamps weren’t designed to go with this couch,” the salesman said, his face pained.

  “But I like them,” Kade replied.

  The salesman glanced around like he was looking for a manager. “I just don’t know . . . I really want you to be happy with your purchase.”

  “He’ll be extremely happy,” London said. “In fact, I think he has excellent taste. I like his grouping a lot better than yours.”

  Now the salesman looked panicked. “Um, all right. If you’re sure. I mean, I can write up the order immediately—”

  “Yes, please. We have other errands to run.”

  London stayed seated on the couch while Kade paid for the furniture and asked the store to hold his items in the warehouse until the house was done. She needed a few minutes to think about everything that had just happened. She’d never expected any of this to happen, for it to go so deep, to hurt so much after having one conversation.

  “There’s a clothing store right down the block,” Kade said, walking toward her and putting his receipt in his pocket. “We have about an hour before I have to be back.”

  “Then I hope you’re a fast shopper.”
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br />   He motioned around them. “Didn’t you see my ninja furniture shopping skills? Were you not impressed?”

  “I did, and I was very impressed. But clothes are different.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “I lay you a wager that I can be in and out of there in twenty minutes.”

  “All right. Let’s see it.”

  They walked another block to the clothing store. London’s brain just wouldn’t calm down. Finally, she stopped walking, and when Kade turned back to see where she’d gone, she said, “What do we do now? And I don’t mean clothes shopping.”

  “I don’t know. You just said there’s not a way to fix things. I don’t know how to deal with that. How can there not be a way?” A look of anguish passed across his face.

  She took a step closer, feeling a pang in her chest. “We can’t fix the past, but we can make different choices in the future.”

  “The future? You mean you’re still willing to spend time with me after all this?”

  She lifted a shoulder. “I’m still here, aren’t I? Going clothes shopping with you?”

  Now he took a step closer. “Can you trust that I never meant to hurt you? Yes, I was stupid—incredibly, incredibly stupid. But I never set out to hurt you.”

  “Can I believe that you were stupid? Yes, I can totally believe that.” She meant to sound lighthearted, but then she looked into his eyes, and her heart stopped again. The look he was giving her was unlike anything she’d ever seen before. It was raw, and it was vulnerable, and she momentarily lost herself in their depths.

  He reached out and took her hand, tugging her a little closer. Then he slid his arm around her waist, never taking his eyes from hers. He held her loosely enough that she could step away if she wanted to, but she didn’t want to. Tingles rushed up and down her arms, almost strong enough to make her shiver.

  “London,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.

  Her hands found their way into his hair before she even thought about what she was doing. All she knew was that she’d never been kissed like that before in her life. Fireworks were going off in her head, and now she did shiver. He pulled her a little closer, and then he let her go, taking a step back and resting his hand on the trunk of a nearby tree.