Shit!
He was taller than her by at least six inches. His legs were longer. And he was strong. So damn strong. He’d be able to catch up unless she ran, and she was not going to run.
She stopped and turned, wiping the back of her hand across her eyes. “What?”
He nearly ran into her. “You thought I was hurt?”
“Ox didn’t give me details on the phone. He just called and said that you and Jeremy were in a climbing accident. I jumped in the truck and…”
“I’m sorry.”
“Not your fault.” She cleared her throat. “Is Jeremy going to be okay?”
“Yeah, he’ll be okay. Just banged up, and he has to have surgery to sort his arm out.” Cary edged closer and his eyes narrowed. “You thought I was hurt.”
“Don’t…” Her heart started to race again, this time for other reasons. “Climbing accidents can be bad and—”
“You thought I was hurt”—his dark eyes burned into her—“and you drove straight into town.”
“Yes.” Turn and walk away. Just turn and walk—
“You drove thirty miles into town and straight to the hospital because you thought I was hurt.”
“Don’t do this.” She clenched her jaw. “Cary—”
“No, I’m going to do this because that is not the reaction of a woman who told me… What was it? ‘We’re friends, Cary. Don’t let yourself get confused.’ Is that what this is?” He reached for her arm. “You feeling a little confused, Missy?”
She could smell him now, past the scent of hospital disinfectant. The warm, sweet scent of orange blossoms he carried on his skin, mixed with pine from the mountains. His strong fingers encircled her wrist. He stepped closer and hooked a finger through her belt loop.
His chest was broad, his shoulders solid muscle. She had to fight the urge to lay her head over his heart. She wanted to hear it beat. Wanted the simple reassurance of his body pressed to hers.
His breath tickled the hair at her temple. “Talk to me.”
She shook her head.
“Then tell me to leave you alone.”
I can’t. Her mind was a jumble of relief and gratitude and need. But she didn’t want him to let go.
“Missy, look at me.”
“Don’t—” She looked up, but his lips stopped any retort she might have mustered.
Oh, fuck it. Reaching up, she grabbed the thick hair that fell to his shoulders and gave in to years of temptation. She reached behind his neck and gripped. She slid her knee between his and pressed her body into his.
He tasted so good. His hand moved from her wrist to grab the small of her back. His fingers curled and dug in. His grip was so tight it would probably leave marks.
So good.
Damn, Cary was an excellent kisser. Way better than she’d ever imagined. It had been six years since she’d kissed anyone, and she didn’t even think about fumbling. His mouth was too demanding. His lips were too sure.
For a few sweet seconds, all Melissa thought about was the taste of Cary Nakamura’s mouth, the warmth of his hands, and how his chest was just as solid as she’d dreamed.
Oh shit, I’m standing on a sidewalk in Metlin.
Melissa broke the kiss and stepped back. “We can’t do this.”
“Fuck that,” he growled. “We already are.”
She shook her head.
“Stop lying to yourself,” he said. “What are you so damn afraid of?”
“Afraid?” A bitter laugh burst from her. “Oh… you have no idea.” She turned and started walking back to her car.
“Fine!” He yelled. “Walk away, but don’t pretend like this is finished, because it’s not.”
You idiot. This never even had a chance to start.
“I know what you’re thinking, Melissa Rhodes. And you’re wrong.”
She didn’t have time to argue with him.
Melissa kept walking.
She didn’t have time to kiss a man on the sidewalk.
She didn’t have time to dream about a sweeter life.
She didn’t have time for Cary.
Chapter One
Melissa’s eyes were trained on her daughter as Abby waited patiently through the song. She was ten now. She wanted to pretend she was too cool for birthday songs and candles, but the glow of excitement didn’t lie.
“Happy birthday, dear Abby…”
There were five ten-year-old girls singing in Melissa’s kitchen along with her mom, Joan; Calvin’s parents, Greg and Beverly; her brother, Ox, and his girlfriend, Emmie; and Cary Nakamura and his mom, Rumi.
For the small dining room at the ranch in Oakville, it was a full house.
“Happy birthday to youuuuu.”
Abigail Caroline Rhodes, ten-year-old cowgirl, goat rancher, avid reader, and light of Melissa’s life, leaned over and blew out the candles on her birthday cake.
The party of family and friends erupted in applause, and Joan reached over to lift the birthday cake out of the way.
Abby shot her mom a brilliant smile and shouted, “I’m officially double digits! Can we go out now?” That was her girl. Inside was for sleeping; outside was for living.
Melissa grinned. “After the cake. Did you girls bring helmets?”
“Yes, Ms. Rhodes.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I brought mine!”
Horse riding would happen, but only with helmets.
“Okay,” Melissa said. “Cake first, then horses.”
The girls squealed in that particularly earsplitting way that ten-year-old girls squealed. Melissa tried not to grimace. After all, her ears would survive, and she loved watching Abby with her friends.
One more birthday you missed, babe. Melissa sent a thought up to Calvin. You watching?
It had been nearly six years since Calvin died. Six birthdays. Six Christmases. Six empty Father’s Days. Abby was ten now. Calvin had missed more of her birthdays than he’d witnessed.
The first few years, Melissa had felt Calvin more clearly at those milestones. She felt like he was close. That he was there somehow. But the past few birthdays, his presence had faded. She felt more distant from him on those days, not closer.
“Okay, birthday girl first!” Melissa’s mom, a permanent ray of sunshine, handed Abby a generous slice of the carrot cake she’d baked that morning. It was Abby’s favorite.
“Just like Calvin.” Beverly sidled close to Melissa, who was standing at the back wall of the dining room. “He loved carrot cake.”
Melissa smiled. “He did.”
“She looks more like him every day.”
Melissa kept her eyes trained on her daughter. The chubby cheeks and ponytails of childhood were fading away. Abby was stretching up, her eyes hinting at secrets and inside jokes with her friends. She whispered on the phone about girlhood dramas, horses, and boys in bands.
“She looks like herself,” Melissa murmured. “But yeah, there’s a lot of her daddy there.”
Cary caught her eye from across the room. He was standing next to Ox, but he was keeping his eyes on Melissa and Beverly. Melissa gave him an almost imperceptible shake of the head. Cary and Calvin had been friends. He knew better than most how much tension lived between Melissa and her in-laws.
And how much tension was between Cary and Melissa.
She was pointedly ignoring any and all memory of their kiss outside the hospital months before. It had been a moment of madness. A reaction to stress. It was… a relief kiss. A “super glad you’re not dead!” kiss. She and Cary were friends. Good friends. That was all.
Melissa Rhodes, you are a big fat liar.
Beverly broke into her mental accusations. “Have you thought any more about our offer?”
Melissa forced a polite smile. “Bev, it’s so generous, but you know this is my family home. Calvin wanted to settle here, and so do I. Abby and I are very happy.”
“She’ll be going to middle school soon,” Beverly said. “The schools on the coast are bette
r than the schools here. We’d pay the full tuition for her to attend Saint Anne’s.”
The offer sounded kind on the surface, but this wasn’t about generosity. It never was with Calvin’s parents. It was about control.
“This is our home.” Melissa maintained the polite smile. “But thank you so much.”
“We built the house for you and Abby. I wish you’d reconsider.”
You built the house for me and Calvin, as soon as he told you we’d be living here. He didn’t want it, and you know exactly why.
Melissa put her arm around Beverly’s shoulders and gave her a one-armed hug even as her mother-in-law stiffened up. “If we ever need it, we know it’s there. But Abby is happy here. She goes to a good school and has wonderful friends. And she has the run of the entire ranch. I know that’s what Calvin wanted for her.”
Melissa knew she had to frame things exactly right, or her mother-in-law would leave in a huff. “You know, that was probably the thing Calvin talked about most often, riding his horse around the ranch growing up. Watching the men work, watching Greg work. Exploring with the dogs.” She felt Beverly soften at the memory of Calvin’s childhood. “Abby has that here, Bev. And I promise we’ll try to visit more. You know you’re always welcome here. Anytime.”
Beverly was silent, but Melissa knew she’d held off the argument for another day. It was the best she could manage. They’d paid attention when Calvin told them he wanted to live in Oakville, but they acted like Melissa didn’t know her own mind, even after six years on her own.
She shifted gears. “Did I tell you I’m planning to convert the old bunkhouse into a holiday cottage? Once it’s done, you and Greg could stay on the ranch when you visit, instead of at the hotel in Metlin.”
Beverly’s eyes went wide. “A guest house?”
“Yeah. For guests and for some tourists. My friends who have converted old outbuildings into rooms can always rent them out to people visiting the national park. It’s a nice side income.”
Bev’s face was frozen, and it wasn’t just from the Botox. Her blue eyes blinked over and over. “You’re going to have strangers in your home?”
“Not in my home. In the old bunkhouse. After we convert it.” Melissa tried not to get frustrated. “I think it’ll be cool. We’ll meet people from all over.”
“Strangers from all over. What kind of people would rent a bunkhouse from strangers?” Her pale face turned even paler. “What about security, Melissa?”
You think I don’t know how to take care of my family? Melissa withdrew her arm. “Don’t worry, Bev. I have a shotgun and really good aim.”
“I would hope so.”
Melissa bit her tongue and caught Cary watching her again. His eyes were narrowed. She shook her head again.
Don’t get started.
She could read his eyes even though he didn’t say a word.
Fine. For now. Cary crossed his arms and watched them.
It wouldn’t be the first time Cary and the Rhodes family had fought. The first time had been at Calvin’s funeral when Greg and Beverly tried to hustle a grief-stricken and confused Melissa and Abby into a car to take them to their opulent house in Paso Robles. Melissa had been so exhausted she barely understood what was happening, but Cary, Ox, and Greg had almost come to blows.
“Mom! Uncle Ox said he can take us outside.” Abby was hastily braiding her wavy brown hair. “Is that cool? Can he take us out to ride? We’ll just be in the pasture. I can saddle Moxie and PJ.” Her big brown eyes pleaded with Melissa. “Do we need to clean up the dishes or—?”
“Don’t be ridiculous,” Calvin’s father, Greg, broke in. “You shouldn’t be washing dishes.”
Abby looked between Melissa and her grandfather, unsure of whether she’d been given permission or not.
“Thanks for asking, baby.” Melissa smiled. “But it’s your birthday. Grandma and I will take care of the dishes. You go out with Uncle Ox.”
Cary stood up. “I can help too.”
“Thanks.”
“Before you skip out on us”—Greg raised his voice to attract everyone’s attention—“I think Abby has a present from her grandmother and me to open.”
Melissa could feel Beverly vibrating next to her.
Oh boy. A present from the Rhodes grandparents was bound to put anything Melissa gave Abby to shame. She’d learned not to let it bother her. Greg and Beverly gave Abby extravagant presents. Melissa gave her everything else.
“What is it?” Abby was nearly jumping.
“There’s an envelope there with your name on it.” Greg nodded to a vase of flowers they’d brought. “Why don’t you open it up?”
Dear Lord, it wasn’t even in a box. What was it this time? A trip to Europe? An iPhone? A car she couldn’t drive for another six years?
Abby opened the envelope and pulled out a picture. Her mouth dropped open and her eyes grew to the size of saucers. “Is it…?”
“He’s yours,” Beverly said. “That’s Sunday Picnic. He’s sixteen hands, seven years old, and he’s on his way from Kentucky right now.”
Abby ran over and hugged Greg. “Are you serious?”
“Of course.”
“Seriously serious?”
Greg chuckled and patted her back. “Seriously serious, princess. We figured you were ready for a step up from ranch horses. You’re an excellent rider, Abby. I know you’ll do us proud.”
Melissa ignored the slight about ranch horses and focused on her daughter’s excitement.
“Mom!” Abby’s face was glowing. “Did you see?” She held up the picture.
“I did! He’s beautiful, baby.” Melissa plastered a smile on her face.
If you keep making that face, it’s going to get stuck like that.
Kind of like Bev with the Botox.
Abby ran to Cary’s mom, a tiny, elderly Japanese woman who was like another grandmother. “Nana Rumi, look at my new horse!”
“He is beautiful.” Rumi’s eyes were wide. “But so tall! Are you big enough to ride him, Abby?”
“Yeah, I’m ten now!”
Melissa looked at the picture of the large gelding with a smartly coated rider on his back, jumping over a rail. It looked like a photograph out of a horse country magazine.
Greg and Beverly had bought her ten-year-old a Thoroughbred. A fancy one. Probably spent twenty grand on it, or more. Never mind that the girl would be better served on a foothill ranch by a hardy quarter horse or an Appaloosa.
Melissa had a bad feeling about this. Greg was looking too smug for this to be a simple present.
“Let me see.” Cary put a hand on Abby’s shoulder. “That is one handsome horse, kid.”
Abby was beaming. “Look at him, Cary. His name is Sunday Picnic, but I’m gonna call him Sunny.”
“That’s a great name for a horse. Think he’ll get along with Moxie and PJ?”
“Look at his face.” Abby was already in love. “I think he’s the sweetest. He’s going to love Moxie and PJ.”
Beverly’s smile was sharp. “I’m sure he would get along with any horse, but he’ll live at our stables, Abby. You’ll see him there.”
Aaaand there it was. Melissa tried not to curse. You shits.
Her mother looked furious but was trying to hide it. “Seems a little silly to keep a girl’s horse two hours away when she lives on a ranch.”
Abby’s smile fell. “He’s not going to live here?”
“Oh sweetie, he’s not a ranch horse,” Beverly said, trying and failing not to condescend. “Not like your mother’s and grandmother’s horses. He’s a Thoroughbred. Sunday Picnic has been trained as a jumper. You can learn how to jump with him. We’ll keep him in our stables on the coast with our trainer.”
Greg said, “Desmond has all the connections to get you the very best jumping instructor. He’s very excited to start. And once you’re ready to compete, there are tournaments and competitions all over the Central Coast.”
If they couldn’t convin
ce Melissa to move to the coast with their granddaughter, they’d simply try to bribe Abby directly.
Abby was confused. Her friends were confused. Everyone was passing the picture of Sunny the new horse around, and Ox and Cary were glaring at Greg Rhodes like he’d just murdered a unicorn.
Melissa clapped her hands together. “Riding time! Who’s ready for riding?”
The squeals started again, and the girls headed toward the door.
Abby ran over to her mother. “Mom, I don’t understand—”
“We’ll talk about it later.” She leaned down, kissed Abby’s cheek, and whispered, “Go say thank you. Say thank you to Grandma and Grandpa Rhodes, and we’ll figure it out, okay?”
“Okay.” A quick hug. “Thanks for the party, Mom.”
“You bet, baby.” Melissa patted her on the back and watched with pride as Abby walked over and thanked her grandparents for being selfish.
Kidding. Her baby had impeccable manners. Unlike her in-laws.
Cary shot Melissa one more look before he headed out the door with Ox and all the girls. Confusion had been forgotten. They were ten years old, hopped up on cake, and horse crazy. Let them go run off the energy outside.
Cary’s mom disappeared into the kitchen with Emmie. Joan and Melissa remained in the dining room with Beverly and Greg.
“I think you should have talked to me before you gave her a horse and then told her she wasn’t allowed to have it.” Melissa was trying to control her temper, but it was difficult. “Do you honestly not see the problem with this?”
Greg was patronizing. As usual. “She’ll see the horse whenever she wants to. You just have to drive her to our house.”
“You live two hours away from here. She has school during the week. She has soccer every Saturday through the fall. If the horse lived here, she could ride every day. Instead, you’re holding her own horse hostage until she comes to visit you.”
“We wanted her to have a quality animal,” Beverly said. “And quality instruction.”
“I see.” The rage was a low roar in the back of her mind. “So her mother and grandmother aren’t quality teachers? Four years of junior barrel racing, four years in college, and you think I’m an amateur? My mother and I were riding as soon as we could walk.”
Grit: A Love Story on 7th and Main Page 2
