Fit to Be Tied

by Kelsey Browning

  Maggie eyed the bouquet of sunflowers and the bag with a supersized Nerf gun sticking out the top. “Are for Jenny and Grayson,” she said with a soft smile.

  Heat crawled up Teague’s throat. “You think they’re okay?”

  With a pat to his cheek, Maggie said, “I think you’re the sweetest thing around.”

  Was that supposed to make him feel better or just more of a bumbling idiot?

  “By the way—” Maggie pointed toward a cluster of people gathered around a smoking chiminea, “—she’s right over there.” Then she squeezed his hand. “But who you really want is in the kitchen. Jenny is finishing up a special birthday cake for her momma. I swear she’s used all the powdered sugar in Bartell County.”

  He knew that cake. Chocolate moon cake. His stomach let out an undignified yowl, causing Maggie to look down at his midsection.

  She said, “And Abby Ruth will still be holding court outside when you get ready to see her.”

  “Can you give me a few minutes before you tell her I’m here?”

  “You bet.” Maggie wandered away with his gift for Abby Ruth.

  Teague stepped inside the house and shrugged off his light jacket, but he wasn’t quite ready to face his past yet so he closed his eyes and counted to ten.

  “Do you have narcolepsy?” The question, asked in a young voice, yanked Teague out of his contemplative moment. Probably for the best since it was a little too close to Sera’s meditation for his comfort. “Because I’ve heard old people do that sometimes. Just fall asleep for no reason.”

  Teague opened his eyes to find a dark-haired boy staring up at him. And in that second, he wanted to drop to his knees and grab the kid up in a hug. But that would probably scare the crap out of the boy. Have him screaming to his mom about some weird old guy. But it was damned hard to resist because that sharp chin, messy dark hair and superior attitude was vintage Jensen Cady, circa 1990.

  “You’re Grayson,” Teague said.

  The kid stepped back, suspicion clouding his face. “How do you know my name?”

  It was easy to forget this kid was growing up differently from the young people in Summer Shoals. “I’m a special friend of your mimi’s.” And of your momma’s.

  Grayson’s eyes, which were not warm brown like his mother’s, opened to circles. “You’re dating my mimi?”

  Good Jesus. How had he gotten himself here? And what was he supposed to say? I’m not that old. All that would get him was a good ass-kicking from Abby Ruth. “No, I actually grew up in the house next door to your mimi and mom’s house.”

  Now, Grayson’s face went from horrified to speculative. “You’re Mrs. Castro’s son, the one who broke both his arms racing dirt bikes.”

  That memory should’ve been painful rather than prideful, but Teague was a guy, after all. “Yep, that’s me.”

  “My mom said you were a self-involved daredevil your whole life.”

  Well, that wasn’t much of an endorsement. “She said self-involved?”

  Grayson rolled his eyes. “That sound like something an eight-year-old kid would make up?”

  Teague was beginning to believe the boy was a forty-eight year old, especially since he was dressed in jeans and a button-up shirt too damn clean for the kid to have been having any fun at all.

  “I miss Mrs. Castro,” Grayson said on a sigh. “Since Mimi moved away from Houston, I don’t get those swirly cookies anymore. And she used to play Go Fish with me.”

  His mom did love to play cards and bake. The thought of her orejitas—so flaky, sweet and buttery—made Teague homesick. “She visits me here sometimes. Maybe I could ask her to bring cookies next time.”

  “But I live in Boston.”

  For the time being anyway, but Teague would love to change that. “Maybe we could ask her to mail you some.”

  “Really? That would be sick.”

  Sick equaled good these days. Coaching Little League kept him up-to-date on the current lingo. “Have you been down to the creek yet?”

  “Nuh-uh. Mimi says it’s full of stinky fish.”

  “If you want, I could bring a couple fishing poles tomorrow and we could try to hook some of those stinky fish.”

  “Okay,” Grayson agreed. “My mom shouldn’t mind since she knows your mom.”

  He could only hope. “Hey, I heard from Maggie that your mom was making your mimi’s birthday cake.”

  That got a fist pump from Grayson. “It looks like shi…uh…it looks bad, but it’s the best tasting cake ever.”

  “Hard to go wrong with chocolate, pecans and a whole box of powdered sugar.” Suddenly remembering the Nerf gun he was holding, Teague bobbled his armload of bribery. “Hey, I brought you something.”

  “No way!”

  “Yes way.” Teague handed over the bag with a rifle stock sticking out of it.

  Grayson pulled out the gun and grinned, showcasing a missing incisor. “Sweet! Can I go outside and try it out?”

  “As long as you don’t shoot anyone.”

  “What’s the fun in that?”

  Exactly the question Grayson’s mimi would’ve asked too. “How about as long as you don’t shoot anyone in the head?”

  “Got it.” The kid hauled butt out the front door so fast he tripped over the threshold. Teague heard the rip of fabric and had to grin himself. Jenny probably wouldn’t be too happy about whatever piece of clothing her son had just ruined, but it proved Grayson was the kind of kid who could fit right in around Summer Shoals, and that Nerf gun was the perfect starter kit.

  “Did I hear Gray…”

  Teague whirled around to find Jenny standing in the hallway wiping her hands on a kitchen towel. They both stood there, silently staring at each other.

  Her hair was longer than the last time he’d seen her. She’d always been lean like her momma, but she was damned close to being downright skinny. A smudge of powdered sugar sat at the corner of her lips, making him want to lick it off. A few lines radiated from her eyes and mouth, proving that she didn’t smile nearly enough.

  God, he wanted to change that. He’d love to smudge that perfect layer of lipstick she was wearing too.

  “Jenny,” he said. Great, someone had put a bullfrog in his throat when he wasn’t paying attention.

  “Teague.”

  “At least we remember each other’s names.”

  The quick flare in her gaze said she remembered a lot more than his name. Like those times they’d steamed up the windows of the Jeep he’d driven back then. “You’re…you’re looking…fit.”

  “Hard to chase down criminals when you’ve caught the fat.”

  Now, she scoped him out from the tips of his brown cowboy boots to his perfectly combed hair. “You sure haven’t caught that.”

  He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Grayson seems like a great kid.”

  “He is.” Her smile was so open and genuine then, and Teague desperately wanted to be the reason for it.

  Her eyes danced when she spoke of her son. “Smart, silly, and sometimes sweet.”

  “Well, you never want a guy to be sweet all the time.”

  Her expression hardened around the edges. “I’m pretty sure that’s impossible. Most of them are more concerned with what they want than what the women in their lives want.”

  “What did Northcutt do to you, Jenny?”

  “I wasn’t talking about Daniel.”

  Her aim was as good as her momma’s. The two women just used different weapons. Not knowing how to bridge this long gap between them, Teague shoved the flowers at her instead. “These are for you.”

  It became immediately clear that the one thing he thought he’d done right, he’d done so incredibly wrong. Jenny’s face went pale and slack as she stared at the sunflowers. Yes, she’d loved them when they were teenagers, but this was damned close to the same bouquet he’d given her their last date before he’d screwed up both their lives by marrying another woman.

  He tried to pull them back, but
Jenny was fast and snagged the paper-wrapped bundle from his hand. “Thanks for thinking of me, but I need to get back to Mom’s cake.” When she turned toward the kitchen, she let the flowers drop so their petals brushed the hardwood.

  Teague was paralyzed. None of this had gone down the way he’d imagined it. He’d had this hope they would take one look at each other and the years they’d been apart would just crumble away, leaving them with a chance to start fresh. Yes, he’d known Jenny wasn’t an easy woman. That she would expect an explanation and some major groveling. He’d just been trying to warm her up for the main event.

  And if he didn’t get his butt in gear, there wouldn’t be any event, main or otherwise. He lunged forward and caught her elbow. “Jenny, there’s not a day in the year that I don’t think of you.”

  Now, it was her turn to go still. But she kept her rigid back to him. “It’s my mother’s birthday. This really isn’t the time to go into all this.”

  “When then?” Yeah, he knew it was out of line, but if he didn’t push now, she’d see him as weak. And if there was one thing the Cady women couldn’t stand, it was a weak man.

  “I’m not sure there will ever be a time.”

  “That’s bullshit.” His words bulleted out. Too harsh, but he couldn’t pull them back now.

  When she turned, it was a slow and deliberate movement. “You don’t get to decide what’s bullshit and what’s not. You lost that privilege about the time you married another woman.”

  “I want to explain everything to you now.”

  “You’re assuming I want to hear your explanation.”

  Words weren’t working, and he had to make her understand. So he pulled her in and kissed her. And God, didn’t the combination of sweet powdered sugar and her even sweeter lips taste good? As kisses went, it was tamer than many they’d shared as teenagers, but it hit him like a billy club to the head, making him dizzy and disoriented.

  How had he ever thought he could find someone on a dating site? Jenny Cady was his perfect fit. Always had been. Always would be.

  Suddenly, she pulled back. Stood there panting with a hand to her mouth. “What was that?”

  “Jenny, please.”

  “Please? Now you’re the one begging, huh?” She laughed, but the sound was shrill and broken. “Because that’s the same word I used when you called me with the news about your upcoming wedding.”

  “I didn’t love her.”

  If he’d thought she was standoffish before, she now had a fifty-foot wall around her. “That’s supposed to make me want to listen to you? Honestly, it makes me want to get Momma’s AR-15 and pin your ass to a tree for a little target practice.”

  She jerked out of his hold, and Teague’s heart felt as though she was dragging it along behind her.

  “I didn’t love her,” he said to her retreating back, “because I’ve always been in love with you.”

  Chapter 18

  Lil had been standing in the phone line so long that her foot had fallen asleep, but she had to talk to Maggie. Martha was still in a mood after her niece’s visit, and if Lil could just get a teensy update on how things were going on the search for OnceUponATom, it might calm Martha down. At least for a little while.

  No one at Summer Haven answered, so Lil went to the library to look for some questions she could use in the mock interview sessions. She came across something called behavioral interviewing that looked promising. If she could impress the warden and the BOP representatives with tough questions and excellent inmate responses, she would be that much closer to her own goal.

  Now, she was back in the cottage, doing what she always did when she needed to think clearly…she cleaned. After thoroughly scrubbing her side of the room with a sponge and powdered cleanser, she unpacked her box of belongings and neatly tucked them away in the metal dresser. Bunking with Martha was a step up in housing, comforts and all, but she’d give anything to be back in her tiny space with Dixie. At least there, she’d been able to speak her mind without walking on eggshells.

  Lil understood that Martha was worried about her niece, but goodness, that woman had mood swings that were higher than Tarzan’s through the jungle. If the girls didn’t come up with some solid information for Martha soon, there was no telling what she would do or say next.

  A voice broke through Lil’s ruminations. “Are you listening to me?”

  She spun around to find Martha standing behind her. Clearly she hadn’t been listening. By the scowl on Martha’s face, she’d been standing there for a while.

  “Sorry,” Lil said. “I was daydreaming.”

  Martha’s hands were on her hips, which always made her look bigger and more threatening. “Did you take my new nail polish?”

  “No. Of course not. You know we don’t wear the same colors.” Lil wouldn’t be caught dead in turquoise, yellow or bright orange nail polish. Those tones didn’t go with her skin color, and a soft pink could take a gal anywhere.

  “Well, it’s missing and I doubt it grew legs and walked off by itself.”

  Lillian was growing tired of always having to put on the tough act with Martha. What she’d give for just one day in Summer Haven all by herself—for the peace and quiet. “Maybe one of your girls borrowed it. Goodness knows they parade through here day and night.”

  “Are you accusing my girls of dissing me?”

  Lord, Lil couldn’t win for losing. “I’m simply saying I don’t know where your polish is.”

  A knock came at the door, and Martha yanked it open, admitting one of her girls. “You know better than to dis me, right, Bootsie?”

  The girl looked up, her eyes the size of teacup saucers. “Don’t nobody want on your bad side, Big Martha.”

  “If someone takes something without asking, don’t you think she should replace it? Maybe run down to the commissary and even pick up something extra to say I’m sorry?”

  “If the accused person didn’t take your belongings,” Lil interjected, “then she has no obligation to do a darned thing.”

  Martha stared her down for a long moment, but Lil didn’t back down. She’d never back down.

  Time to distract and defuse this situation.

  “We need to finish the curriculum for Warden Proctor.” Lil grabbed a legal pad from her drawer.

  Meanwhile, Martha settled on her bed so Bootsie could give her a pedi. “I wanted turquoise toes,” Martha complained.

  Lil perched on the edge of a straight-backed chair, plucking at her tight waistband, and forged ahead. “So, I have a list of mock interview questions, but I’d like to fine-tune them.” She tapped Martha’s girl on the shoulder. “Bootsie, tell me about a time when you overcame a challenge.”

  “You mean like when I snuck that nose candy past airport security?”

  Oh, Lord. Lil was in trouble. She shot a panicked look at Martha and handed her the clipboard. “The warden already selected the class, and somehow it ended up full of your girls.”

  “Imagine that.” Martha scanned the list and smiled. All sprawled out on her bed propped on the pillows, she looked like a beige version of Cleopatra.

  “You have to help me prepare them. They have to be able to answer interview questions without mentioning their past…extracurricular activities.”

  “I’ll see what I can do.” Martha tapped her chin and stared at the ceiling. “But I’ve been thinking about something. Maybe we could accidentally dye all the uniforms in the Laundromat. I’ve got Bootsie and Phipps working in there. They could do that easily, then we could color up this place. Ditch all this gray-green-tan.”

  And tank Lillian’s chances of impressing the BOP folks in a few days? No, thank you. Still, she said as sweetly as possible, “Although I think that sounds like a wonderful idea, I’m not sure we can get away with claiming it was an accident. The handbook is clear on penalties for intentionally misusing the machines, and any sort of dye is in direct violation.”

  Martha’s lips pursed. “First, you take my polish, and now yo
u shoot down a good idea. Miss H&M, you’re not being much of a team player.”

  “Don’t you think I’m thinking of the team by keeping us from getting shipped all over the nation? How would your niece feel about visiting you up in New Jersey?”

  “No need to get your back up. I’m doing my part. I got the okay to thin out the plants on the back side of the camp so we can use them in the courtyard. My girls are working on that now.”

  Thank goodness. “I need to update the warden. Would you like to come with me?”

  Martha pointed her toes, admiring the purple color the girl was painting them. “I wasn’t invited.”

  “I just invited you.”

  “Yeah, yeah. Lots of crap ain’t fair in this world. I know this ain’t your fault.” She waved off the girl who was hunched over her feet. “Lil, about that leg-breaker thing…”

  Lil remained quiet. She wouldn’t make this easy for Martha.

  “You know I didn’t mean that, right?”

  She knew no such thing. “I know you’re worried about your niece.”

  “I don’t like feeling helpless. Makes me feel stupid and pissed.”

  Oh, Lil knew that feeling all too well. Because she had no control over anything happening with this tit-for-tat trade she and Martha were engaged in.

  “I want you to keep your grannies on the job.” Martha’s jaw jutted out.

  Lillian gave a silent prayer that Martha wasn’t giving up yet.

  “At least until I can talk my niece out of this whole online dating thing.”

  Please, please, please, God, let Martha’s niece get suckered in for a while longer by this fairy tale paintball shooting man, but don’t let anything bad happen to her. Amen.

  * * *

  Abby Ruth was standing in the gazebo watching Maggie set up paper plates and cups when Jenny marched across the lawn and slammed the cake down on the table. Now, the chocolate icing craters had craters.

  “What’s wrong?” She tugged Jenny aside and whispered, “Did you forget to put the sugar in my birthday cake?”