“Do you want the rest of the story or not?” I demanded.
“Not really, no.”
“Fine.”
“Fine.”
Yep. Just a couple of adults over here.
We sat in silence for the rest of the ride, him busy with his phone and me sulking about his lack of sulking. We pulled up at Gran’s house at 5:58 p.m. and I jumped out of the truck, just barely turning it off and pulling the keys out as my cousin Janet ran up on foot. I left the detective to make his own way in as we both rushed to be at the door by six. She cleared a small hedge as she ran over the lawn to get to the door, and I cut corners off the walkway as I checked my phone. 5:59 p.m.
Janet and I reached the door, bouncing into each other as we came to an abrupt stop. We made it. One minute to spare. I knocked while we both listened for the grandfather clock to signal the hour.
Bong. Bong. Bong.
Gran opened the door, pinning both of us with a look as the clock continued to chime.
Bong. Bong. Bong.
She waited until the last sound had stopped before she opened her mouth.
“You two were almost late.”
“But we weren’t,” Janet told her.
“Almost is the same thing as being late,” she said as she stepped aside to let us in. Obviously feeling she had lived long enough in her twenty-five years, Janet dared to respond.
“No, it isn’t.”
Wow. She went there. I stopped and took a step back, away from Janet, even if it meant staying outside. Captain had gotten out of the truck and cautiously approached, hesitating when he saw my hard reverse. Distraction!
“Gran! I picked up a hostage on my way here. Do you mind feeding him while he waits for rescue?”
Janet, having realized her impending doom, let out a huge breath as Gran’s attention was diverted to the detective.
“Lark! Is that the movie star? The one with the flag clothes from that movie you took us to go see?”
Ha! Not the only one.
Gran’s face flushed as she studied the prime specimen in front of her. Even frustrated from my stubborn refusal to take him back to his car, he was gorgeous, his hair ruffled from running his hands through it in between texts. Yep. Get him the costume and he could win a look-alike costume against the real actor.
“Gran, may I introduce Detective Brecken Wilson from San Francisco. Detective, this is my grandmother. And my cousin, Janet.”
“Her much younger, single cousin,” Janet added.
Brat. This would be the last time I helped her. I glared as she pushed past me to shake his hand and turned just in time to see Captain’s eyes widen. His body recoiled from the motivated blur of a girl heading towards him.
“Hi. You are from San Francisco?”
Even I winced from her greetings. Poor, overly composed, stoic Brecken stood helpless, trying to find an escape before answering her.
“I am now. My parents followed my sister there a few years ago, and I followed them.” He looked over at me, his eyes still wide enough to see white all the way around.
Janet snagged his arm and reeled him closer until his arm was snuggled under her boobs as she leaned closer to hear what I could hear just fine from four feet away.
“Really? How fascinating,” she purred. Actually purred. Wow. “Where were you from before that?”
He looked at me again, his eyes begging me to help, but I was still smarting over his insistence on calling me ‘Larklyn.’ He was on his own.
“Back East.” His voice was short and abrupt. He turned back to Gran, trying to use it as an excuse to put some distance between him and Janet. “Hello, ma’am. Thank you for having me.”
“Well aren’t you a charmer? You don’t see manners like that out here often,” she murmured as he shook her hand. If she swooned, I would lose it. “Larklyn, how did you meet such a nice gentleman?”
“He’s a detective, Gran. As in investigating the leg. And the arm. In fact, the whole body. Have you found the body yet?” I asked him.
“Larklyn! We don’t mention such things in public,” Gran chided me as she encouraged Captain into the house. They left Janet behind as Gran took her spot beside him and showed off her house.
“I would argue, but I can see her point. No more body references,” I defended myself to Janet, who just looked up at me and rolled her eyes.
Janet and I trailed Gran and Brecken. Gran had an older home, built when the town was founded in the 1950s. It was a cottage style like mine, but whereas mine was small, compact, and comfortable, hers was large, two stories with an attic.
It had a warm, elegant charm, and she loved to use it to entertain, which showed. The easy flow of one room to another, and the large kitchen that could easily fit four cooks, making the house an ideal meeting place for when she held the Sewing Circle gatherings. Which she did, more than her fair share. I couldn’t recall how many times I would come to pick up Hailey to find four women, each with her own specialty, arguing over their section of the kitchen. Even though they always ended up in the same spot anyways. Gran would use the oven, making her famous mac & cheese with breadcrumbs. Benny’s wife, Alice, would claim the island for the dish of the week, and Sally Mae and Gladys would portion off the leftover counter spaces for their food.
Brecken listened, responding as Gran led him from spot to spot, stopping for too long at the family photos. I closed my eyes, trying to remember what photos were there, but it had been too long since I had noticed, and I never brought people over who would care. Lesson learned. Aunt Helen and Uncle Flynn stood up from where they were waiting in the living room and walked over. Uncle Flynn stopped on his way, snagging two beers for Janet and me.
“Lark, why didn’t you tell me you were bringing a boy?” Aunt Helen asked when they got close enough to talk without being overheard by Gran and Brecken.
“I didn’t. I kidnapped a detective when he insisted on questioning me tonight instead of tomorrow morning like I told him to.”
“Yeah,” Janet interrupted. “We need to talk about you withholding the fact that Captain America was investigating you.”
“What’s there to tell? He’s here because the victim was his cousin. For some reason, he thought I was the missing link.” Which, now that I thought about it, might have been correct. Also, now that she was using the nickname as well, it seemed… less special. Maybe I should start calling him by his name instead. Nickname officially retired.
“Is he single? I mean, I didn’t see a ring, but you never know these days,” Janet asked, drowning out her mother who closed her mouth and rolled her eyes at her daughter.
“Yes, he is single,” I answered by habit and then cringed. Son of a donkey.
“So, you already asked, huh? I’ll back off if you’re interested. You aren't getting any younger and your pickings are slim.” Janet looked over at him and pursed her lips. “Okay, maybe I will try less aggressively. When they’re that cute, you have to at least try.”
“Thanks,” I said with my own eye roll. “I can feel the love.”
She clinked our beers together with no effort from me.
“May the best girl win,” she said, before downing the rest of her beer and strolling over to Gran and Brecken with a seductive smile.
“Doesn’t that behavior bother you?” I asked Aunt Helen, thinking of how I lived in fear of my daughter acting like… well, Janet. I loved my cousin, and she was an amazing interior decorator, but she was also a horrible judge of character, a flake, and someone who made terrible life decisions. All of which were how she got stuck back at home at twenty-five, redoing the summer homes of Barrow Bay’s rich instead of in San Francisco where she had started.
Then again, so was I, only I had a divorce under my belt and a child. Glass houses and stones came to mind.
“Yes, but she’s an adult. IF SHE WANTS TO ACT LIKE A WHORE, she can.” Aunt Helen raised her voice so that Janet could hear her across the room. It worked, as she forgot Brecken when she turned
to address her mother.
“I DO NOT ACT LIKE A WHORE!” she screamed back, not bothering to cross the room and argue like a reasonable human being.
“You sure? Because flirting with your cousin’s date certainly qualifies,” my Aunt fired back. Brecken and I turned bright red in unison at this, and I stumbled to interrupt.
“He’s not… we’re not… she’s fine,” I told my Aunt, hoping while already knowing it was too late. I shot a look at Brecken to ask forgiveness before we got too far out of control.
“Did you come together in the same car?” my aunt demanded.
“Yes, but only because—”
“Then it’s a date. I don’t understand why you young people have to make this so difficult. Just admit you like each other and move on. Don’t spend weeks pussy-footing around it.”
“Because we don’t like—”
“Please! He’s gorgeous. Like movie star quality. What’s there not to like?”
I saw Brecken go another shade darker in a blush and shift his weight.
“Well, there’s the whole ‘he thinks I might be involved in a crime’ thing—”
“Oh please.” My aunt waved this excuse off like an annoying mosquito in summer. “If he thought you were a criminal, he wouldn’t be going to a family event with you. Plus, he already knows about the divorce and the child, and he’s still around. Don’t blow it by pretending to be hard to get.”
“No, no… He thought… he didn’t come with me, I kidnapped him… like, really kidnapped him. I…” How did this happen? “I’m not playing hard to get!” Well, that sounded better in my mind.
“Damn. Giving it out already? I thought this was your first date,” Janet said, her shoulders drooping before abandoning Brecken in favor of another beer.
“We… I… It’s not… Oh my god.” I gave up and sank into the couch Aunt Helen had just abandoned, burying my head in my hands. “I’m sorry, Brecken. You were right. I should have driven you to your car instead of being on time to dinner,” I mumbled into my hands.
“It’s… um… yeah…” Brecken stumbled to a stop, looking a little white around his face.
“Look at them. They’re so in sync! Already talking the same. It’s so cute.” My aunt gushed, and then grabbed a plate of cheese and offered one to him. He took it before heading over to sit next to me on the couch. I still had my head in my hands trying to figure out why I thought this would be a good idea.
“So, are we heading out, or should I get ready for your big play?” he asked, lounging on the couch munching on his piece of cheese.
“My big play?” I repeated, pulling my hands down two inches so I could see him.
“Yep. Your big play to get me. Since you aren’t playing hard to get,” he clarified with a satisfied smirk. He looked completely relaxed. In fact, this was the most relaxed I had seen him since meeting him. It made him sexier.
Sweet cheese and crackers. I returned my head to my hands since teasing me wasn’t important enough for eye contact.
“This was not how this was supposed to go,” I mumbled.
“How did this go in your head?” His voice was amused.
“You were supposed to be embarrassed. You were supposed to regret forcing your way into my life. This was supposed to be you.” I took one hand down to gesture at myself before giving up and removing the other. There was no point in hiding my face. It couldn’t get any more embarrassing. Sitting back, comfortably reclined, he followed my hand down my body and his eyes got stuck on my legs. I hoped. Because that was when I realized I was still in my breeches. Skin-tight beige breeches that hid nothing.
Never mind. It could get worse.
I turned another shade redder and jumped up. “Gran! I didn’t have time to change when I left the barn. Can I change into some clean clothes?” At least ones that didn’t show off my cellulite. Every molecule in my body was aware of the fact I had to walk away from him, with my breeches showing my assets off to Brecken, who was at eye height to my butt. I didn’t look to see if he was watching my exit. I didn’t know what I wanted more: him to be looking, or him to not be looking.
“Sure, sweetie, sure. We’ll keep your man company.”
My man? Sweet cheese and crackers.
I risked a look back at Brecken, but he smiled at me, no sign of embarrassment on his face. Snickerdoodles. I really hadn’t thought this through. I took the stairs two at a time and went into the guest room I normally used. Since coming here straight from the barn was not unusual, I kept a change of clothing here for emergencies. Five minutes later, I emerged in clean jeans, a t-shirt with a Hogwarts logo I refused to be embarrassed about, and another pair of tennis shoes. Grabbing my dirty clothing, I walked out to my truck to throw them in the back seat, when Gran startled me.
“Do we need to call the lawyers?” Her face pinched and her hands clasped in front of her. Her grip was so tight with worry that her knuckles were turning white.
“I don’t think so. Blake didn’t ask many questions, so I was vague. I already called my divorce lawyer and told her everything. She asked me to keep her in the loop, but she wasn’t too worried. Blake isn’t interested in playing full-time Dad. He was always more of the fun-time guy.”
“We need to make this go away. You need to stop those deliveries.” She frowned and all the wrinkles from a lifetime of laughter stood out in the dark.
“Brecken and John are working on it. They got a big break in the case today, so soon.”
Gran nodded while she took in a deep breath and let it out. “Okay. If you are stopping the deliveries, we will be okay.”
I reached out to take her hand in mine, biting back my denial of any control over the maniac body dumper who was terrorizing my home. Years of dealing with Gran had taught me denial never worked after she had assigned responsibility. In her world I just needed to fix it. Problem solved. I wished the real world and hers coincided more.
“Whoever’s doing this will get caught soon. Dropping off body parts is just challenging the police to find you.” I smiled as broadly as I could, hoping the size of my smile would translate to confidence. It looked like it worked, because she returned it before switching our roles and grabbing my arm.
“So, tell me about your man.”
Well, I knew why she grabbed my arm. It was so I couldn’t run.
“He isn’t my man. He’s here for the case and then he’s leaving.”
“Men don’t just come to family events like this if they aren’t interested.”
“Yes, they do. Especially when I refused to let him go back to get his car. If Judy hadn’t needed supplies for tomorrow, John would have already picked him up.”
“Oh, please. Judy bought all her supplies for tomorrow two days ago. She’s at home cooking right now while John watches the game.”
What?
That little liar.
I grabbed my phone and texted him.
Me: John! I thought you told Brecken you couldn’t pick him up.
John: Nope, sorry. Took Judy to the store for tomorrow.
Me: Oh please. Gran outed you. You’re both at home.
As I waited for the reply, I heard Gran’s phone beep. She looked down at it and smiled, then texted back. I stared at the interaction in shock. Did they... and she smiled... then just responded… Goodness gracious great balls of fire. I was ready for this week to end. My phone beeped.
John: We need a new Chief. He needs a reason to stay. Go get him, tiger.
My jaw dropped along with my phone after reading that.
Did they… I… no... but…
My mind came up with one answer: run. I turned to make a dash for the truck, but Gran was ahead of me. Grabbing the back of my pants, she dragged me into the house backwards, me wheeling my arms trying to keep balance. It worked until we got to the doorway where I could grab the frame and hold on, her yanking and me pulling towards freedom.
“Larklyn Davis! How old are you?”
“Coming from the person dr
agging me in, that question loses it punch!”
“Larklyn! You are thirty years old and the mother of a seven-year-old. Act like it!”
“No. I will not do it! I am not some police whore you can sell for a good position and two cows!”
“Please! I love you, Larklyn, but you have more debt than income. Who would offer two cows for you?” Gran replied, yanking again. This time my right hand came loose, sending both of us back a few inches before my left could adjust. I swung my right out, trying to catch the ledge again, but the lost inches were making it impossible.
“Who’s buying Larklyn?” The voice belonged to the last person I wanted to hear our conversation. Brecken’s amused question got us both to stand up. I grabbed my pants and pulled them up from where they had slipped down in the altercation and tried to act normal.
“Nothing.” Said in stereo, the ‘nothing’ sounded suspicious, even to my ears, and he lifted an eyebrow up while watching us.
“Really?” He put a lot of weight into the word and we both blushed.
Well, Gran blushed. I started to, then got distracted by the sight of my seventy-eight-year-old grandmother, who discussed Sixty Shades of Grey in her sewing group last month, blush like a virgin. Wait... I meant fifty. Or was it forty? Yep, I was over here keeping up with the times.
“Nothing. No one is selling anyone. Larklyn was just being overdramatic,” Gran said, waving her hand and walking back into the house. Seeing a possible escape route and not having much self-respect left after this week, I turned back towards the truck only to have her snag my arm and pull me after her again.
Sigh.
“Brecken, just out of curiosity, can they charge me with a crime if I run away and the old person won’t let go? I mean, I didn’t hurt them. It was their own actions that caused the injuries. I wouldn’t get in trouble, right?”
“Lark, I don’t think the police will be your issue. Once she recovers, she’ll come after you herself, and she seems to be a very relentless woman.” He couldn’t hide his laughter as he answered. At least someone was having a good time.
“Good point.” I gave in to the situation and followed meekly. My grandmother led us to the dining room to a table covered in food.
Leg Up Page 9
