Always On My Mind

by Kelsey Browning

  “You never seemed worried to me.”

  “Of course I was! If that’s what you think of me, why didn’t you nominate me for the Mommy Dearest award and be done with it?”

  Her mom wore a frown, but it looked a little trembly. Great. Jenny had hurt her feelings.

  “I didn’t mean it that way.” Now, Jenny’s chest was aching. She was worried about Grayson, ashamed about what she’d said to her mom, and confused as all get-out about Teague.

  “You’ve known Teague all your life,” her mom huffed. “You know he’ll take care of Grayson. He’d protect that boy with his life if it came down to it.”

  “Even Teague doesn’t control the universe. Accidents happen.” Or Grayson might decide he liked Teague more than he liked his own mom. It was hard enough competing with Daniel’s family money and his in-laws, who owned a baseball team. Yeah, like she could run out and buy the Astros to impress her kid.

  A flash of headlights cut through the trees separating Summer Haven from the road. Eerie shadows danced on the leaves and splashed the white gazebo out front.

  “See,” her mom said, “they’re home.”

  Jenny forced herself not to throw open the door and race down the steps. That wasn’t her normal MO, and it would embarrass the fire out of Grayson. So when the bell rang, she casually strolled to the door.

  “You should’ve been an actress,” her mom said.

  When she opened the door, Teague and Grayson were standing together—a united front. She gave them the once-over. Neither of them were wearing the same clothes they’d worn when they headed to the basketball game. Grayson was still wearing his jeans, but his shirt was a too-big sheriff deputy’s uniform. And Teague’s polo and jeans had magically turned into a Big Butts Barbecue Joint T-shirt and a pair of Bartell County Jail-emblazoned cotton pants that looked like pajama bottoms.

  “What happened?” she asked.

  Her son glanced up at Teague, obviously trying to send some kind of mind-meld message.

  “Nachos,” Teague said, urging Grayson through the door and past Jenny. “That cheese is killer. It was all over us so we stopped by my office for some clean clothes.”

  “Where’s Gray’s shirt?” she asked.

  “It…uh…” For a second, panic shot like lightning across Teague’s face. “It was pretty much totaled. Figured we’d save you the bother of trying to get the stain out.”

  “So you threw it away?”

  “You could say that.” Teague tilted his head toward his left shoulder, which put his gaze somewhere in the vicinity of Jenny’s elbow rather than her face.

  Yeah, there was more to this story than either of them were telling.

  “Guess it’s time for bed,” Grayson said, making his move for the stairs.

  Jenny caught him by the brown collar. “Not so fast, young man. What do you say to Teague?” And when had her kid ever voluntarily gone to bed?

  Grayson spun back around and exchanged a fist bump with Teague. “Thanks for the sick basketball game.”

  Teague pulled Grayson in for a high five and a hug that scraped away at some of the protective cover around Jenny’s heart. “Any time, dude.”

  Grayson’s response was a broad grin and a sudden burp that would’ve gotten him kudos from his friends for weeks.

  “How about an excuse me?” she said.

  “Mom, he’s a guy. Guys don’t care when other guys burp, scratch and fart.”

  Now, Jenny shot Teague a glare. “I can’t imagine where you learned that.”

  Teague just flashed that smile that had sweet-talked her into the backseat of his Jeep Wrangler years ago. He wrapped the crook of his elbow around Grayson’s neck. “Later, man.”

  “See ya.” Grayson took off up the stairs, tripping once on his shirt’s long tail.

  Jenny turned back to Teague and leveled a stare. “Give it up.”

  “What?”

  “I could’ve gotten nacho cheese out of his shirt.”

  “How was your dinner?”

  Damn him. Master subject changer, but she did want to thank him properly, so she grabbed his hand and led him onto the front porch where the six white rockers creaked to and fro in the chilly breeze. And where they’d be out of her mom’s earshot. “Dinner was the most delicious thing I’ve had in a long time. Your mom’s enchilada recipe. That brought back memories.”

  “Best around.”

  “It was such a treat not to cook or fight over having chicken nuggets for the fifth time this week.”

  “And the bath?” Even in the pale moonlight, Jenny could see his eyes darken with arousal.

  “You’re doing the naked thing again, aren’t you?”

  “Can you blame me?” He laughed. “I’ll probably be forced to renovate my bathroom to get the image of you in my tub out of my mind.”

  “Teague, about earlier—” She paced along the row of rocking chairs. “I know you want things from me, but I’m not sure I can—”

  “Yes, I want things.” He caught up with her, cupped his hand around the back of her neck to stop her pacing. “And maybe I’m moving a little too fast. But it’s taken an act of Congress to get you to Georgia, and I don’t know when I’ll see you next. Can you blame me?”

  “I don’t know what we’re doing.”

  “Picking up where we left off.”

  “That’s not possible.”

  “You’re right.” With his head bowed and his fingers caressing her nape, he sighed. “But there’s no reason we can’t pick up where we are now.”

  He was so earnest. He was laying his heart and feelings out there for her to stomp all over or scoop up and cherish. If she won the art competition, the residency would give them time to find out if they had a chance of making things work again.

  She needed to know if she and Teague still had enough between them to even consider that line of thinking.

  Jenny turned into his arms and ran her hands up his chest. Through the worn T-shirt’s thin weave, she could feel every ridge of muscle. She wanted her hands on those muscles when he was bare-chested. And the only way she would go further than kissing this man was if she thought they had a future.

  For now, though, she rose on her toes and kissed his jaw, his short stubble rough against her lips. She skimmed her lips down to his chin, gave it a tiny nip. Teague’s hand on her neck tightened.

  “Now I’m the one who doesn’t know what we’re doing,” he said, his tone hoarse.

  “We’re getting reacquainted.”

  PICK YOUR PASSION™

  Sweet - continue to next page

  Heat - skip 1-2 pages

  Chapter 5 - Sweet

  Teague interlaced his fingers between hers. “I can promise you I haven’t forgotten a thing about you. Not the way your lips feel on mine. Not the way you feel in my arms or the arch of your back when I touch you in just the right place.”

  He backed her against the porch rail and hiked her up to step between her legs. She wrapped her legs around his waist to hold her balance.

  He whispered, “And if you tell me you’ve forgotten what we feel like together, I’ll call you a liar.”

  Her body definitely hadn’t. It had gone soft and totally willing. But her mind and her heart weren’t yet convinced. No. She hadn’t forgotten, and that’s what scared her most of all.

  Skip 1 -2 pages to Remainder of Chapter 5

  Chapter 5 - Heat

  “I can promise you—” he pulled her closer, until their bodies were aligned and she could feel him stirring against her stomach, “—I haven’t forgotten a thing about you. Not the way your lips feel on mine. Not the way you arch your back when I touch your breasts. And not the way you moan when you come.”

  He backed her against the porch rail until she spread her legs to let him stand between them. Oh, he wasn’t just stirring anymore. He was completely hard. He whispered, “And if you tell me you’ve forgotten what we feel like together, I’ll call you a liar.”

  Her body definite
ly hadn’t. It had gone soft and totally willing. But her mind and her heart weren’t yet convinced. No. She hadn’t forgotten, and that’s what scared her most of all.

  Continue to next page

  Remainder of Chapter 5

  Suddenly, the porch light flicked on and off.

  “Dammit,” Teague said softly. “If that was your mom, I’m never buying her another beer.”

  Doubtful. Jenny knew how her mom felt about her relationship with Teague. “Probably just a mistake.” But the light had definitely pulled her back from the brink of something she couldn’t undo. “Besides, we were talking about why you tossed a perfectly good shirt because of a stain I could’ve cleaned.”

  Teague’s eyes scrunched up in what looked like pain. “Not this stain.”

  “Was it atomic cheese?”

  “Well, when you combined it with the Frito pie and the Big Red he drank, you could probably call it that.”

  “Are you telling me he—”

  “Good news is you don’t have to worry about him having a stomachache tonight,” Teague said with a rueful grin. “Better news is if they ever make vomiting an Olympic sport, he’s a shoe-in for the gold medal.”

  Chapter 6

  After getting up earlier than anyone in the house to take pictures of a Georgia sunrise, Jenny was feeling lighter and more optimistic. The solid weight of her camera in her hand was better than hours of therapy.

  She’d forgotten how in tune with the world around her she felt by looking through that lens and capturing an individual and unique moment. As if she’d seen something, immortalized a slice of time that no one else was privy to.

  Grayson had downed one of Sera’s homemade bran muffins and a glass of milk like nothing had happened last night. Poor Teague. He probably hadn’t known what the heck to do. She’d have given anything to have seen him handle a sick kid.

  But Grayson was all smiles when they hopped into the car and drove over to the high school.

  This time, she walked into the school with a sense of pride…and, deep down, hope. What a difference a day made. Yesterday she could’ve strung up her mom for entering her into this art competition. This morning, that artistic spark was a warm ember inside her. Maybe all she had to do was nurture it, protect it, blow on it, and her talent would come to life again.

  The displays had been open for a while, but still Jenny was surprised at how crowded the show was.

  She squeezed Grayson’s hand. “Are you as anxious to see how many Christmas ornaments are in my vase as I am?”

  Grayson nodded and gave her that perfect little smile, making her heart flood with so much love. She’d obviously won the best-kid-in-the-world lottery. That was, when he wasn’t upchucking nachos.

  They beelined straight to her booth. Grayson took one look at the vase half full of blue, red, green and silver metallic balls and exclaimed, “Look, Mom. You’re winning!”

  “I don’t know about that.” She laughed. “It’s only the first day. They won’t count the ornaments and announce a winner until Saturday.”

  “You’ll win,” he said. “I just know it.”

  His confidence in her was contagious.

  A sense of pride washed over her. Maggie and Mom had gone to a lot of effort to make sure she had a moment to shine. Still, she studied the photographs with a more critical eye this morning and rearranged a couple for a more balanced display.

  Her gaze snagged and held on the photo of Teague and her. She had a mind to take down such a memory-evoking photo, but she couldn’t do a thing about it now. The competition required ten art pieces, and she was displaying exactly that number. Her mom hadn’t printed a single extra.

  Satisfied with the arrangement of pictures, she turned to Grayson, but he was nowhere in sight.

  Her heart immediately clenched. He knew better than to walk away from her in a public place. Maybe someone had…

  “Well, hello, Jenny.”

  Jenny spun around to see Angelina sauntering toward her in skinny jeans and a multi-colored shirt with shiny sequins and beads winking like colored diamonds. That woman seemed to swoop in from nowhere, making a grand entrance every time she arrived. Her son, wearing strangely bumblebee-ish black pants and bright yellow shirt, trailed behind.

  “Have you seen Grayson?” Jenny blurted out in lieu of a proper hello. “He was just here and I—”

  “Are you saying you think someone in Summer Shoals would take your son?” Angelina snapped. “We’re not that kind of town. We love kids here.” She gave Booger a nudge. “Take a lap around and see if you can’t find Grayson.”

  “I should go with him,” Jenny rushed out. “Grayson could be—”

  Rings glittering on her thin fingers, Angelina took Jenny’s arm and led her to a folding chair inside the booth. “I don’t know how things are where you live, but in Summer Shoals, kids can run around the school all they want. It’s safe here. No need to get your panties in a twist.”

  Jenny tried to calm her hitching breath. “A few days before we left, they had a lockdown at Grayson’s school.”

  “Oh, that’s terrible,” Angelina said, sincerity suddenly filling her voice. “Now I’m not saying small towns are perfect, mind you. But we’ve never had an incident like that.”

  The boys came running up, hair flying and tennis shoes slapping against the speckled linoleum. They were laughing like wild men.

  “Grayson Daniel Northcutt,” she scolded. “You can’t run off like that. You scared me half to death.”

  Her son’s mouth turned down. “I didn’t mean to do nothing bad. This seems like a real nice place and…”

  Jenny grabbed him and wrapped him in a hug. “It’s okay, but I need you to tell me where you’re going next time.”

  His earlier smile came back in full force. “Then can I play with Booger?”

  Not exactly a sentence a parent ever wanted to hear from her kid’s mouth. Thank God, Angelina had clued her in that it was that poor kid’s nickname. “Yes, but don’t go far. We’ll only be here for an hour.”

  “’Kay,” he said, but he was already running the other way, Booger beside him.

  Jenny turned her attention back to Angelina.

  “They’ll be fine,” Angelina said. “Everyone in this town loves Booger.”

  “I’m sure it’ll be a lot more fun for Grayson to hang out with someone his own age, rather than me.” She regretted that Grayson didn’t have as many friends now. Although she’d been able to get a condo close enough to their old house that he could still play with his friends, he was now in a different school district. The past year had been a big adjustment for him. The divorce. The move. Everything.

  “Now that Grayson is accounted for, it’s time for you to man your booth. My meet-the-artists idea will make this event the envy of every county in Georgia.” Angelina flung her arms in the air in a grand gesture that made her dolman sleeves flutter as if they might lift her right off the ground like a giant butterfly.

  For five thousand dollars I’d stand on a pedestal in the middle of this darned event and let people throw pies at me.

  Angelina lowered her arms and cocked her head, studying her as though trying to decide if she was worthy of all the envy this art show would stir up. “Each artist is also supposed to donate something.”

  A detail Jenny obviously hadn’t known since she hadn’t registered for the darn show. “Like a piece of our work?”

  Angelina flicked a look at Jenny’s photographs. “Hmm…well. Those aren’t exactly the committee’s style. But if you were to take pictures of each booth, that would work just as well. And please try to make them as flattering as possible because I want to use them in next year’s promotional materials.”

  “I can do that.”

  “Fabulous,” Angelina said with a bright, white smile with the slightest edge of insincerity. Then her attention moved beyond Jenny’s shoulder. “Oh, there’s Colton Ellerbee. I’ve got to run. He’s about to leave. You must meet him this week th
ough. He’s an amazing sculptor. He’d be an inspiration for someone like you.” She dashed down the hall to a man wearing a tweed beret over his blond hair and sporting a goatee trimmed in a perfect vee.

  What had Angelina meant by someone like you? Obviously, the woman didn’t think Jenny was on par with the other exhibitors. Well, she’d show her. It was hard to make event pictures both practical and artistic, but Jenny was up for a challenge. The feel of her Nikon in her hands this morning had boosted her confidence, no matter what Angelina said.

  Jenny pulled her camera from where she’d stowed it under the booth’s single chair and checked the flash and settings for indoor lighting. Before shooting anything, she took a first pass through both hallways. Some good work was displayed, but with each booth, the feeling that she actually had a chance of taking home that prize money became stronger. Angelina Broussard be damned.

  Even so, she took her time to find the perfect angle to showcase each of the works of art. Kneeling to zoom in and capture the tiny details on the whittler’s miniatures. Standing on a chair to take overhead shots of the leather tooling.

  At the sculptor’s booth, she crouched to take her first shot of the nativity scene vignette. The artist’s name was burned into the side of the manger. Colton Ellerbee. So, Mr. Beret was the one behind this work. Whether or not the artist was amazing or a dumpster diver was in the eye of the beholder. But good art was supposed to evoke emotion. Ellerbee’s found objects nativity scene certainly had done that with Angelina and Teague, albeit on opposite ends of the emotional spectrum. She took a wide-angle shot from across the aisle that cast the nativity with a glow from the lights, making the entire vignette appear heavenly.