Chapter 58
We squealed into the driveway with one minute to spare. Glancing at the house, I caught movement in the front window.
Josh.
"C'mon," I said, shoving open my car door. Salad in hand, I jumped out and watched as Lawton circled the car and retrieved the two desserts from the back.
By the time we reached the front door, it was already open. Josh stood just inside the doorway, his hand on the doorknob and his gaze troubled.
"You made it," he said, stepping outside and shutting the door behind him.
For his sake, I summoned up a smile. "Told you I would."
Josh glanced briefly over his shoulder, and then lowered his voice. "She was just about to lock you out."
He didn't need to say who she was.
For Josh's sake, I kept the smile in place. "Good thing I found myself a fast driver then." I cleared my throat. "Speaking of which, this is Lawton, my, uh, friend." I turned to Lawton. "This is Josh."
Lawton held out his free hand. "So you're the genius Chloe's always talking about."
"Aw, I don’t know about that," Josh said, looking down at his shoes. He wore dark slacks, a white dress shirt, and a grey neck tie with tiny polka dots.
"You look good," I said.
Josh looked up. "Thanks. So do you." Absently, he reached up to tug at the knot of his tie. "I wanted to wear jeans." He shrugged. "But you know."
I did know. And then, as if we were thinking the same thing, we slowly turned to look at Lawton.
He stood with his legs shoulder-width apart. He had the dessert boxes cradled in one arm, and the other arm loose at his side. But even relaxed, the muscles and tattoos of his bare arms were hard to ignore, not to mention his greased-stained white T-shirt.
But Josh wasn't looking at Lawton's shirt, or his tattoos. He was looking down at Lawton's jeans, taking in the shredded fabric and grease stains.
Josh blew out a low whistle. "She's gonna totally chew you up," he said.
"Who?" Lawton said.
Behind Josh, the door swung open so fast and hard, it hit the doorstopper with that weird, clangy noise I knew so well.
"Her," I muttered under my breath.
Loretta gave me a cold, withering look. "You think I can't hear you?"
Oh crap. Time to shape up fast, starting with an apology.
But before I had the chance, her cool gaze swept to Lawton. She gave him a long, disapproving look, taking her time as if cataloging everything, from his tousled hair to his tattered jeans.
Her lips pursed.
In spite of my nervousness, or maybe because of it, I wanted to laugh. Loretta prided herself on impeccable manners, at least in front of strangers – except, I knew, when the stranger in question was deemed beneath her notice.
Her opinion of Lawton was pretty obvious. She already had him categorized somewhere between the guy who mowed her lawn and the panhandlers she was always complaining about.
She leaned around him to look at the driveway. "Who are you?" she said. "The tow truck driver?"
Loretta knew damn well that Lawton wasn't a tow truck driver. For one thing, there was no tow truck, a dead giveaway in my book.
But there was his car. I followed her gaze and tried to see it like she'd see it – an ancient muscle car with chipped paint and ugly dents.
I cleared my throat. "Loretta," I said, "I'd like you to meet Lawton. My friend, and uh, my ride."
"I see." She pursed her lips. "Lorton, is it?"
"Close enough," Lawton said, holding out his hand.
Loretta looked down at the hand, but didn't take it. "Are you some kind of mechanic?" she said.
Lawton grinned. "You could say that." With a shrug, he put down his hand. "Just part-time though. You know how it is."
"No," she said with a little sniff. "I'm afraid I don't." She glanced again toward the driveway. "I assume you're also providing our Chloe with a ride home?"
Lawton grinned. "Definitely."
Loretta consulted her watch. "Fine. But don't be later than two o'clock." She turned to me. "Will you be waiting for him in the driveway? Or shall he knock on the door?"
"Actually," I said, "he's my guest. You said I could bring one?"
Just then, Lauren Jane's face appeared behind Loretta's shoulder. "Oh my God," she said. "Is that–? Are you?" She turned toward me. "Is that Lawton Rastor?"
Loretta whirled around to face her daughter. Standing outside, I heard her voice, hushed and urgent as she asked, "Who's Lawton Rastor?"