“I’m pretty confident Dani has zero interest there, but you can’t blame her for appreciating Michelle’s assets. Both of us would be looking, too, if we were walking behind that show of hip-swinging.”
“Hey, Doc,” Michelle said as they climbed the six wide stairs to the porch.
“Hey, Michelle.” Trip patted Dani on the back. “Glad you made it. I was beginning to wonder if you were going to blow me off.”
Michelle squealed and ran to hug someone across the room. Dani, Trip, and Jerome shared a mutual smirk at her antics.
“Girl, you would have been better off coming stag than bring her for a date,” Jerome said.
“Not my date. We just walked over together after finishing up at the clinic,” Dani said.
“Good to hear. I didn’t want to bust your chops for dating the underage help right out of the gate.” Trip couldn’t resist teasing her.
“Underage? But she looks—”
“She’s not really underage. She just acts like it,” Jerome said. “Next time you need a date, I’ll talk to my cousin. She’s pretty hot and I think she’d be into you.” He waved as he walked away. “She’s probably here somewhere. Get Trip or Grace to introduce you. I’ve got to deal with Granny.”
Trip spotted one of her horse clients clearing the entry checkpoint. “Get a drink and some food and wander around a bit. I’ve got to make the rounds to check on things, but I’ll look for you in a bit to introduce you to some clients who have already arrived.” One greeting led to a conversation with another group, a check on the grill crew, then a stop by one of the alcohol stations to score one of her favorite craft beers before scanning the backyard crowd.
Oh, good. Grace was talking to Dani. She wanted her friends to like Dani and, hopefully, help Dani make friends that might anchor her in Pine Cone. Trip frowned. Why were they standing so close? And who exactly was doing the crowding? Trip couldn’t really tell. Dani put her hand on Grace’s arm, but Grace abruptly walked away. Dani stared after Grace, and Trip moved to intercept and interrogate. Where was Clay? She needed backup.
“Grace, wait,” Trip said, keeping her saunter casual as she sidled up to her. She didn’t want Dani, who was still staring at Grace, to think Trip was getting into her personal business. Even though she was about to do exactly that.
Grace was flushed and her eyes a bit wild when she glanced at Trip. “Why, Grace Booker, you look about to swoon.” Trip resisted the urge to look back at Dani to see if she wore the same strange expression.
“No. Well, maybe.” Grace sighed. “Yes. Yes, I am.”
Trip stared at her.
“I know she might not stick around, but I can’t help it,” Grace said.
“Then I’m sorry.”
Grace turned to her. “Sorry for what?”
Trip shrugged. “I kinda told her that you’d make a good friend, but she should keep her hands off you since she might not stick around for long.”
Grace gave Trip a disgusted look. “Don’t you think you should talk to me before you screen my potential girlfriends?” Grace waved her hands in front of her. “On second thought, don’t answer that. I know my track record isn’t great.”
Trip followed Grace to the house. “Wait now. There’s no reason to get down on yourself. We can fix this if you really want. But you need to summon the charming and charismatic Grace, not act like an ice queen. Even I felt the chill way over here when you walked away from her.”
“I tried that. My usual charming and charismatic self sent her running for the hills, so I’ve just toned it down a notch. You don’t chase a spooked horse, do you, Trip?”
“Depends on the horse, but I wouldn’t think you’d have to chase that one long. Her eyes are still glued to your back.” Trip glanced over her shoulder and chuckled. “Correction. Glued to your backside.”
Grace kept walking. “But when I’m around, she’s standoffish and weird.”
Trip cupped Grace’s elbow and guided her toward a group of women. “Maybe you need a teaser to reel her in.”
“For God’s sake, stop talking in animal terms and speak plainly.”
Trip held on tight when Grace tried to pull out of her grasp. She’d just spotted the perfect person. “Jay is the best teaser in the county. She flirts with everybody, looks like she’s the biggest whore dog around, but is basically harmless.”
“What are you talking about, Trip Beaumont?”
They stopped just out of earshot of Jay. “There’s two kinds of teasers, but I won’t bore you with technical stuff. We use teaser horses to both test for readiness and stimulate the interest of a potential breeder.”
“Seriously, Trip? You’re comparing me to a breeding mare?”
“You’re missing the point, Gracie. Trust me, you’ll have Dani eating out of your hand if she thinks Jay’s sniffing around you. Just go with it. Talk with Jay for a bit and let this play out. I know what I’m doing.”
Grace shook her head and turned her back to Jay when Trip tried to nudge her in that direction. “I don’t like games, Trip.”
“You’re just being sociable.” Trip caught Jay’s eye and reached behind Grace to covertly wave Jay over.
“Hey, Grace.”
Grace jumped when Jay spoke from right behind her, then stepped around to face her. “Hi, Jay. How are you doing?”
“I’ve been trying to get a minute alone with you since I got here. Walk with me?”
“See you later.” Trip stepped back. Her work was done here.
* * *
Women filled the front, side, and back yards, eating, talking, swimming, sunning, and joining in the various games, and Trip was sure it was a record turnout. Clay was still missing, but Trip didn’t worry. Clay was probably circling, deciding which woman she might cut from the herd for some personal attention.
And Trip, well, she felt way too sober. It was time to have some fun. She grabbed a beer chaser and strolled over to sample the table of Jell-O shots, slippery and buttery nipples, and her favorite apple cinnamon shots made from Fireball and Royal Crown Apple whiskies. She rolled a buttery nipple over her tongue to savor the sweetness, took a sip of beer to cleanse her palate, and upended an apple cinnamon shot. It burned down her throat, and she sucked in a deep breath to prolong it. She downed another and closed her eyes as the heat spread through her body. She’d prowl for a little human heat later, but she was feeling lazy right now.
She yanked her T-shirt over her head to expose the skimpy bikini top that matched her board shorts. More skin to soak up the sun she craved. She gathered two more beers in one hand and managed to palm three shots in the other, then headed for the pool.
Even though she’d rented twenty in addition to the dozen permanent poolside loungers, every chair was filled. No matter. She had offers from at least six women to join them, but straddled the lounger of a longtime friend she knew was safely attached to a partner and slid in to sit behind her.
“Hey, Patty.” Trip set her beers, then shots on the concrete and relaxed against the raised back of the lounger. “Where’s Aisa?”
Patty pointed to the side yard where the volleyball net was set up. “They begged her to fill an opening on one of the teams.”
Trip looked toward the group just in time to see Aisa spike the ball into the opposing team’s court. She laughed. “Yeah, I’m sure they had to twist her arm.” Aisa Eriksson had been a top player at the University of Florida, before graduating to dedicate herself to teaching—a calling she felt stronger than a career in sports. Trip downed a shot and sipped her beer.
“She’s having fun,” Patty said, blowing a kiss to Aisa when she turned their way and waved. She patted Trip’s knee. “I’m going in the pool to cool off. Swing your legs up here and keep those knees together.” She stood and waggled her finger at Trip. “I don’t want to come back and find that you’ve spread your legs and let some floozy take my seat.”
Trip grinned and downed the second shot while those in the chairs around her hooted at
Patty’s admonishment. Then she obediently stretched out her legs, opened the second beer, and scooped up the third shot. She closed her eyes behind her sunglasses and let the sun and alcohol warm her. Life was good. One thought led to another as she drowsed over the memory of last year’s cookout when she and Aisa had waged battle over the same volleyball net. She’d held her own until Aisa unleashed and took her to school. She’d invited Patty and Aisa back the next weekend, and she’d unlocked the barn to teach Aisa a few lessons on the basketball court. Afterward, Jerome and one of his cousins challenged them in a rousing two-on-two game. That was fun. The guys won, but she and Aisa had given them a good fight. Aisa was a natural athlete in any sport, but playing with her wasn’t like playing in college…with Jamie. They’d clicked from the beginning, seamlessly anticipating no-look passes, always knowing where the other was on the court. It was as if their brains had a psychic connection.
A splash of cold doused her bare stomach and Trip jerked. She peered up at Aisa, who was tilting her beer to also add a splash of cold to Trip’s crotch. “I’m gonna kick your ass, Eriksson.” She sat up and her brain swam in a muddled haze of alcohol and her brief nap.
“You’re slowing down, pal. Even Grace is getting more action today than you are.”
Trip straightened. “What? Where is she? Do we need to rescue her?”
But Aisa’s attention was suddenly focused on Patty playing in the pool. “Later, maybe.”
Trip blinked at the empty spot where Aisa had been standing. “What the hell?” She struggled out of the chair, but swayed when she stood. She needed to clear her head.
Trip slid her sunglasses into the side pocket of her board shorts and dove into the deep end of the pool. The refreshing water glided against her skin, and she wished for a second that everyone would be gone when she surfaced. Today felt…off, but she had no idea why. She opened her eyes instinctively as she approached the wall at the shallow end and put her hand out to stop her forward motion, planting it between two legs dangling in the water, and popped up to the surface. She shook her head, spraying water like a dog to the shrieks of several women who also were dangling their legs into the cool water, then wiped the water from her eyes to offer a friendly grin at whoever she’d nearly plowed into.
She blinked. Her jaw dropped. Then for a tiny second—or maybe it was an eternity—her lungs forgot to draw breath and her heart froze a few beats.
“Hello, Trip.” Jamie Grant’s face was expressionless, but her hazel eyes were bright when they met and held hers. “Still the life of the party, I see.”
“Jamie.” Trip whispered the name. Was she still dreaming? Her mind jumped from thought to thought so fast she couldn’t complete a single one, much less form a coherent sentence.
“Hey, Jamie Grant. You’re the next challenger on the cornhole sign-up.” Someone shouted from across the yard, and Jamie’s eyes flicked over Trip’s shoulder.
“Be right there.” Jamie smoothly levered to her feet and stared down at Trip. “Gotta go.”
Trip watched her walk away from the pool. Jamie Grant. In the flesh. And even more attractive all grown up. Her tennis-style shorts hugged her slim hips and muscled thighs, and the Lycra V-neck appeared molded to her still perfect torso and shoulders. Say something. SAY something. But Jamie was too far away now.
“How do you know Jamie? She said she just moved to town,” one of the other women asked.
The question brought Trip back to earth. She cleared her throat, but her eyes stayed on Jamie. If she looked away, Jamie might disappear. “From another time, another life.”
Her cryptic answer drew a teasing chorus of “oh” and “ah,” but Trip ignored them and got out of the water. What to do? Should she follow Jamie and talk to her? She needed to sober up so she could think. Trip took a towel from one of the stacks set out for guests and dried herself. She hadn’t thought she was hungry, but she realized as she neared the grill where Mick was dishing up juicy cheeseburgers that she hadn’t eaten all day. She washed down her burger with three bottles of water and wolfed a bowl of peach cobbler and ice cream without taking her eyes from Jamie across the yard.
She didn’t want to talk to Jamie in a crowd. There were too many eyes and ears interested to see who drew Trip’s attention today—a repeat hookup or somebody new? Hell, there was usually a betting pool on both her and Clay. Grace always held the money because she was the most trusted person at the party.
No. She wanted, needed to talk with Jamie alone. Surely, Jamie didn’t still hold a grudge. They were college students, for God’s sake, eighteen years ago. Trip smiled when Jamie slid the second of her corn bags cleanly into the hole and the friends of the woman she was challenging groaned.
After graduating veterinary school, Trip had done a surgical residency at a big private veterinary practice in Atlanta. She’d looked up Jamie’s mother, who no longer lived in the dangerous projects downtown. Jamie was in Afghanistan, Mrs. Grant told Trip, and she worried for her because her job was to locate and disarm bombs. When had she left the service? And, most importantly, how did she end up in Trip’s small town? Had Jamie deliberately tracked her down and come to Pine Cone because Trip was here? Hope speared through her, but wavered just as quickly. Jamie’s reaction to Trip’s stupidly mute greeting had been indifferent. Maybe a bit chilly. Still, Jamie had driven past the iron gates proclaiming Beaumont Farms, so she had to know she would likely bump into Trip.
Another collective groan from the cornhole game, but this time combined with cheers from Jamie’s newly formed fan club. Trip watched Jamie shake the hand of the loser, then hand over all but one of her corn bags. She arched the last pouch overhand like shooting a basketball and bowed to the group when it dropped neatly into the hole. Trip shook her head and grinned. It wasn’t required as a point guard, but Jamie had been a sharpshooter on the college court and obviously hadn’t lost her touch. But now she was abdicating her throne as cornhole champion, and heading for the house.
Trip rose to follow, but her progress was slowed by having to weave her way through the partiers. “Excuse me. Sorry. Whoa, watch it.” She stopped to catch and steady an inebriated woman who had stepped backward into her path while talking to friends, then realized the path was now clear. She ran for the door.
One woman snored from where she was propped in the corner of the sofa, and a handful of others were waiting their turn at the bathroom down the hall. Jamie was apparently comparing the length of the bathroom line to the line of cars, visible through the huge front windows, waiting to clear the breathalyzer checkpoint to leave. She glanced over as Trip started toward her.
“I’ll hit one of the Porta Johns outside.” She moved to step around Trip.
Trip touched Jamie’s arm to stop her. “Wait.” She could have directed Jamie to the half-bath off her home office, but she’d just seen Dani leading Grace that way. So she untied the police tape Grace had strung to keep amorous women from going upstairs to make use of the bedrooms. “Hang a left at the top, first door on your right.”
Jamie hesitated, then nodded. “Thanks.”
Trip watched Jamie take the stairs two at a time, then retied the yellow police tape behind her and followed more slowly.
* * *
Jamie cursed her full bladder. She should have just left, or gone to the portable toilets. But it was too late to change her mind now without looking foolish. She was surprised when the door she opened was a bedroom. A bedroom someone obviously lived in. Clothing hung from one corner of the four-poster bed frame. Two pairs of running shoes were in a haphazard heap next to a wing-backed chair in the corner. The dresser top held the usual tray of watches, keys and coins, and a jewelry box. Several veterinary and horse magazines were piled on the bedside table. She started to back out and try other doors, but spotted a partially open door on the other side of the long dresser. A bathroom.
When she emerged, Trip was propped against the end of the bed, waiting. Trip stood and they stared at each other. She’d p
ut her T-shirt back on, but it didn’t keep Jamie’s traitorous brain from recalling Trip’s long, smooth abdomen when she popped out of the water inches from Jamie’s hands. At least Trip wasn’t still as ripped as she was in college. Jamie gritted her teeth at the memory of Suzanne raving over Trip’s muscles. If she had to admit it, Jamie liked Trip’s slightly softer woman’s body…still athletic, but not skinny.
“It’s good to see you, Jamie,” Trip said quietly. “It’s been a long time.”
“Thanks for the use of your bathroom.” She gestured toward the hallway. “And thanks for telling Grace to invite me, but I need to go home to let my dog out.” She’d barely taken a step toward the door when Trip’s hand on her arm stopped her.
“Can we have dinner…or a beer sometime? Catch up with each other?”
Jamie was surprised by the conflicting mix of emotions that surged through her. She wanted to slug Trip for stealing her first girlfriend. At the same time, she wanted to hug the closest friend she’d ever had, the woman Jamie hadn’t allowed herself to crush on because Trip Beaumont always had a line of coeds angling to date her. She’d thought she was ready to face Trip, but maybe not. “Look. I came to Pine Cone because Grace made the right offer for me and my canine partner. I’m not looking to relive the past.”
“Are we ever going to talk about what happened?”
“Let the past stay in the past.” Jamie pulled away from Trip’s grasp, making it to the doorway before Trip spoke again.
“What if I don’t want to, James?”
Jamie stopped, and her throat tightened. “You don’t get to call me that anymore, Beaumont. That nickname came from a friend who betrayed me.”
Trip persisted. “What if I want a chance to set things straight?”
Jamie whirled and paced back to Trip. “Maybe your mama raised you to think you can do whatever you want, but there are rules decent people follow.” She poked Trip in the chest to emphasize her words. “Rules even for small town royalty like you.”
Trip caught Jamie’s hand and held it against her chest. “Tell me your rules, Jamie. I’ll follow every one if you’ll give me a chance. We…we were good friends before.”
Take a Chance Page 8
