Laken muttered. “Ava says that all the time.”
“Ava’s a country girl.”
“Yeah, right,” Laken snorted. “And I’m the Queen of France.”
“Be quiet, you two,” Luisa commanded. “I want to hear more about Saxon. How is he, Ellie? Are you pleased with your lessons?”
“I’m really proud of you for sticking, darling,” Sylvie assured her.
“Which reminds me—I have a bone to pick with you, Sylvie Everett.”
“Me?”
“Saxon says he told you he wasn’t a teacher, that he had no desire to teach me.”
Ava laughed. “And either of you is surprised that Sylvie didn’t listen?”
Smiles spread all around the room.
Sylvie shot Ava a glare, then she turned back to Ellie. “He didn’t mean it.”
Smiles erupted into chuckles.
“I rest my case,” Ava said.
Sylvie persisted. “But it’s working, isn’t it, Ellie? You’re doing wonderful work.”
“How do you know that?”
“Saxon says so.”
“He did?” Ellie turned bright pink.
“Can’t you tell it from his reaction?”
Laken stood up. “You mean like—” She hunched over, grunting and nodding. “Me, Saxon. Me, genius. You—” She gestured with one thumb. “You…not terrible.” She scratched her sides like an ape and grunted again, then sat down.
Everyone but Ellie laughed.
“That’s not fair. He’s…I think he’s lonely.”
“Oh, lordy,” Ava sighed. “Another chick to mother.”
But meek little Ellie’s eyes shot sparks at her. “Don’t mock me, Ava. He is lonely.” No lioness ever guarded her cubs more fiercely.
An awkward silence descended.
Sylvie spoke up, her usual reserve shaken. “Ellie, did I make a mistake? Does he make you unhappy?”
“No,” Ellie insisted. “We’re doing fine. He’s…he’s incredibly gifted, Sylvie. Just to paint in the same space is…” She shook her head. “I can’t explain it. But I’m glad, truly, that you made me do it. And I think we’re becoming friends. Well, sort of, anyway.”
“Next thing you know, he’ll be invited to Ellie’s Thanksgiving for lost souls,” Laken opined.
Ellie’s back straightened, her cheeks flaming. Her fair skin and tendency to blush made it impossible for Ellie to hide her feelings.
“Oh, god. You already did, didn’t you?”
“You don’t have to come, Laken,” she shot back.
Even Ava was shocked at that response. Laken had a standing invitation to Ellie’s Thanksgiving feast because she never wanted to see her family back in L.A. Laken had been Ellie’s pet project for years.
“Then I won’t.” Laken rose stiffly and headed toward the kitchen.
Ellie put her face over her hands, then rose heavily. “I didn’t mean—” She turned to look helplessly at Ava. “You started this.”
Ava held up her hands, at a loss for words. She’d never seen Ellie like this. Then she stood up. “I’ll go get her.”
“No,” Ellie held up her hand, shaking her head. “I made the mess, I’ll fix it.”
The three left behind exchanged glances of concern. Ava fought a sick feeling in her stomach. She and Ellie had never been at odds before.
“Anyone want to talk about Camille and the Rolling Stones?” Luisa tried for a lighter tone.
Ava shook her head, suddenly weary. She shot a look at Sylvie but knew better than to probe about Gabe. She addressed Luisa, instead. “Tom said he had fun with Carlito—um, Carlos.”
Luisa shot her a sympathetic look. “Hard, isn’t it?”
Sylvie spoke up. “He wants to change his name?”
“Well, it isn’t really changing. Carlos is his real name, you know.”
“But he’s been Carlito forever.”
“I know. He says it’s a baby’s name.”
Sylvie looked confused. “I thought it was a term of endearment.”
“Not when you’re fifteen and trying to prove you’re a man,” Ava observed. She rested her head on the back of her oversized chair, curling her legs beneath her. “It makes me tired, just remembering Grayson at that age.”
Luisa’s eyes were troubled. “But your son never—”
“Never what? Talked back to me? Gave me the dumber than dirt look?” Ava snorted. “Of course he did. I just didn’t tell you.”
“Ramon is up to something. He tried to keep Carlos from going that night with Tom.”
Ava knew Ramon was up to more than that, but she’d promised Tom not to betray the boy’s confidence. Seeing Luisa’s distress, she was hard-pressed to honor it.
“A boy needs his father,” Sylvie ventured.
“Not that father,” Luisa shot back. “I wish Ramon lived a thousand miles away. I want him out of my son’s life.”
Ava trod carefully. “He’s Ramon’s son, too.”
Luisa’s jaw jutted forward. “He is not a fit father.”
“But Sylvie’s right. Whether or not he’s an ideal man, no boy can forget his father, for good or for ill.”
Luisa huddled in her chair, arms wrapped around her. “I’m just so afraid I’m losing my son.” Tears welled on her lashes. “I’ve tried so hard to be both mother and father, so that he didn’t miss Ramon.”
“Luisa,” Ava said gently, hoping Tom would forgive her. “Maybe you shouldn’t force him to choose.”
Luisa’s voice went cold and hard. “There is no choice. His father is weak and a coward. He was a violent drunk, and I don’t believe he’s changed.”
“But the more you try to force Carlos to choose, the more you risk sending him straight into Ramon’s arms.”
“Why couldn’t Ramon be dead?” Luisa buried her head in her arms, bent over double. “All he’s ever done is make my life hell.”
It wasn’t the time to remind Luisa that she wouldn’t have the children she adored without the man she despised.
Laken and Ellie re-entered the room, arm in arm. Ava shot them both a look of apology. Laken smiled, and Ellie immediately moved to Luisa’s side, dropping down on one knee and rubbing Luisa’s back.
“Luisa,” Ava interjected. “If it helps any, Tom told Carlos he could call him, day or night, if he needed to talk.”
Luisa lifted her head, already swiping away tears. Ellie handed her a tissue from the magic pockets where Ellie always seemed to produce whatever was needed. Luisa blew her nose softly. “Tom is a wonderful man. You’re so lucky.”
“I know,” Ava smiled. “Believe me, I know that. He’s my sun and my stars.”
Laken rolled her eyes. “Puhleeze, Ava. No hyperbole. Save it for your books.”
When Laken’s comment provoked a laugh from Luisa, Ava didn’t protest. “I think I’m going to write a romance for Camille Paglia. I’m thinking I’ll call it ‘The Biker Babe and the Rock Star. What do you think?”
“I’m reserving my copy right now,” Laken smiled. “Just make it hot, as usual. It’s the only love life I plan to have for awhile.”
“Celibacy? Our Laken?” Sylvie the Imperturbable looked mildly shocked.
“Well, Madonna did become a doting mother,” Ellie observed. “Stranger things have happened.”
Luisa perked up. “Next thing we know, Ellie will run off with Saxon.”
Laughter convulsed them all.
* * *
“You’re everyone’s hero,” she announced to Tom.
He looked up from his book. “And that surprises you?”
She threw a pillow at him, but he caught it, tossed it aside, and grabbed her as she passed, yanking her down on top of him.
“Of course, no one knows the full extent of my charms like you do.” His dark eyes held a gleam she recognized.
Sliding fingers into his hair, Ava pulled him down for a kiss he returned with such ardor that she felt the night’s happenings slip away. “Mmmm-m-m,” she whispered again
st his lips. “Missed me, did you?”
He threw back the covers and pulled her beneath them. “Thought that damn meeting would never end.” With a nip at her throat, Tom sent shivers down her nerves. “Don’t know why you women can’t get it all talked out in an hour. Guys could.”
She pulled his head up and sucked on his lower lip. “I—we—oh, who the hell cares what we talked about? Talk is cheap. Action is what counts.”
Tom chuckled, low in his throat. “Someone in this bed has too many clothes on.” With quick strokes, he remedied the situation, then moved his mouth lower on her body.
“Tom, I should—” her voice went high. “Oh…oh…”
He lifted his head, dark eyes sparking. “What were you saying?”
Ava arched her back, rubbing sinuously against him and licking her lips. “I didn’t hear anything.”
Tom grinned. “Must have been my imagination.”
“Yeah,” she inhaled sharply as his knowing touch sent her fever spiking. “You have a wicked imagination.”
“Thanks. I like your dirty mind, too.”
She reached for him, rewarded by his intake of breath. “You ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”
Tom laughed. Ava sighed.
The night echoed with moans…and whispers.
Chapter Seven
‡
Thanksgiving
Ellie placed the pan of dressing in the lower oven and set the timer. Straightening, she brushed against someone and gasped, until a voice she knew all too well spoke over her shoulder and arms stole around her waist.
“Have I told you lately that you work too hard, Mrs. Preston?”
Ellie sighed and leaned back against Wyatt’s chest. “Gonna take me away from all this?”
“I would if I thought you’d let me.” He turned her around. “You don’t have to feed half the Western world every Thanksgiving, you know.”
“Do you mind the expense? With everyone bringing something, it’s not too—”
He laid one finger across her lips. “That’s not what I’m talking about. You’ve been cooking for three days. You’ve got to be exhausted.”
She smiled. “But Laken would be alone, and Saxon.”
“Speaking of the glowering artist, I haven’t seen him.”
“He hasn’t shown up yet.”
“Think he will?”
She shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. But thank you for letting me invite him.”
“Hey, I just live here. My job doesn’t kick in until it’s time to do dishes after this feast.”
She stole her arms around his waist, standing on tiptoe to kiss him. “You’re wonderful to do the clean-up.”
“You, Mrs. Preston, are the wonderful one. Every year you make a motley assortment of people feel like a family. I’m just glad you let me live here, too.”
Ellie smiled, laying her head against his chest and closing her eyes for one moment of blissful peace. “Just try and go anywhere else.” They had so little time together anymore.
“Mom, you have company,” Sarah’s voice sounded strained.
Ellie opened her eyes to see Saxon standing there, a bottle of wine in his hand, looking at her with an odd expression on his face. She straightened quickly and went toward him, smiling. “I’m so glad you came, Saxon.”
Turning toward Wyatt, she introduced the two men, who shook hands and took one another’s measure.
“And I guess you’ve met our daughter Sarah.”
Saxon nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Thank you for the wine.”
“I—” Saxon lifted his hands. “I’m not much of a cook.” His eyes shared the memory of cranberry bread.
Cheeks burning, Ellie stepped back awkwardly, gesturing toward a counter loaded with various dishes. “I told you we’d have plenty of food. Thank you for coming to help us get rid of it.” She turned toward her husband. “Wyatt, would you please take Saxon and introduce him around?”
“Sure thing, ma’am,” Wyatt answered easily. “This way to the lions.” He shot a grin back toward her.
“Get on, you.” She waved him away, smiling at Sarah. “Your father’s cute, Sarah Lynn.” She hugged her daughter.
“Mom?”
“Yes, sweetie?”
“That’s your art teacher?” Sarah’s voice was filled with awe.
“Yes, he is.”
“You didn’t tell me he was a hottie. Is Daddy jealous?”
Ellie laughed, though a vision of a broad bronzed chest filled her vision. “Why would Daddy be jealous?”
“He’s gorgeous, Mom.”
“Is he?” Ellie tweaked her daughter’s nose. “I hadn’t noticed.”
“Oh, Mom, you’re hopeless.”
“What I am, young lady, is in need of someone to set the table. You and Joseph are elected.”
“First you have to get Joseph to stop slobbering over Laken.”
Ellie smiled. “Go tell Laken I need her help, too. He’ll follow.” She cocked her head. “Brilliant, no?”
Sarah giggled. “Pretty good, Mom. Devious, too.” She grinned widely. “I like it.”
Ellie swatted her daughter’s rump. “Then go retrieve Drool Boy and get to work.”
* * *
“I—I wish you could be here, Michael.” His mother’s hesitance made his chest hurt. There had been distance between them since her bombshell revelation. In the end, however, he couldn’t ignore her on this first holiday without his father, whatever wrong she’d committed.
“But you said you have plans, right?” She’d promised she did.
He’d said the same—but he’d lied. He was busy, but not with any holiday dinner plans. The practice he was babysitting, coupled with the animals on Leonard’s spread meant he didn’t have three seconds to himself, and all that activity was a welcome dodge.
“I do, but—” There was a hitch in her voice.
He missed what they’d had, all those holiday traditions they’d shared—but what he wished for most was his former innocence about what she’d done. Or some good explanation that would make all this fit. She’d been a good mother—
To him. But she’d abandoned his missing brother.
He opened his mouth to pin her down for specifics to help him find Ian—
In the end he couldn’t. He would find his brother on his own. She was miserable over their estrangement, and he wasn’t happy about it, either. He just didn’t know how to square all of this.
“Shouldn’t you be leaving for your dinner? What time are you all eating?”
“Late, I’m sure.” She laughed. “You do remember how Leslie could never do anything on time, right?”
“I do.” This was the least stiff conversation they’d had since he’d learned about his brother’s existence. About her lies.
The doorbell rang. He glanced out and saw a teenage boy and girl with anxiety all over their faces. He thought they might be from the neighboring acreage. “Mom, I have to go. Looks like an emergency of some sort.”
“Oh, Michael…if you hadn’t—” She broke off, but the damage remained.
“It’s the life I’ve chosen, Mom. I like it.”
She sighed. “I know. I’m happy to hear it.” He heard a sniff. “Oh, Michael, you know, don’t you, that I wouldn’t have hurt you for the world? I just—”
The doorbell rang again, twice in rapid succession. He didn’t have time to get into the emotional morass again. “Let’s not go there again. I’m fine. Happy Thanksgiving, Mom.”
“Oh, thank you, Michael. I wish—”
“Mom, I’m sorry, but I really have to get the door.”
“All right. Be well, my son. I’m so thankful for you.”
But not for Ian, the child you left behind? he wanted ask. He shook his head. Not productive. “Bye, Mom.” Gently he disconnected and opened the door.
“You’re a vet, right?” the boy asked. The girl had tears in her eyes.
“Yes. Something wrong?”
&nb
sp; “There’s a dog,” the girl said, eyes filling. “He’s hurt—maybe a car hit him. Please, can you come?”
“Sure, let me get my bag.” He’d much rather be doing this than any of his other options. “You’re down the road, right?”
“Yes. Sorry—I’m Joseph Preston. This is my sister Sarah.”
“Michael Cavanaugh. Get in my truck, and I’ll drive you back.” Within seconds, they were headed down the drive. When they got there, a crowd was gathered, and at its center a woman was stroking the dog’s head and talking to him. She glanced up.
Michael’s feet skidded to a halt.
Their eyes locked.
It was Ms. Trouble. Ms. Sexy as Hell. From that club.
Her mouth fell open, so she recognized him, too.
Then the young dog whimpered, and Michael snapped out of his trance. He took two steps and knelt by the animal, switching to vet mode. “What happened? Whose puppy is this?”
“I—we don’t know,” said Ms. Sexy. “I came outside and heard him whimpering.”
“We don’t know. Laken just found him,” said the man Michael had often seen driving in a pickup. “Wyatt Preston. Thank you for coming.”
“Michael Cavanaugh. No problem.” He turned to the dog, already running his hands over the animal’s body.
“Should I—do you need me to move?” Ms. Sexy asked.
Michael had his stethoscope in his ears, listening to the chest sounds. He shook his head briskly.
Her hand on the animal’s fur was slim and lovely. There were tears in her voice. “Is he going to be—”
“Shh!” He cut her off. “I can’t hear.”
She stiffened but went silent.
He palpated the belly and gently touched the dog’s legs and stroked his head. The dog whimpered when Michael touched his front right leg.
He glanced up. “I’ll have to x-ray, but it might not be broken. I’ll need to take him to the clinic for that.”
“It’s Thanksgiving. Surely you’d rather not—”
“I’d rather not wait.”
“But you had plans, I imagine—”
“No plans.”
“Tell you what,” Wyatt said. “We’ll go get the X-rays, then you come back here and eat with us.”
The Book Babes Boxed Set (Texas Ties/Texas Troubles/Texas Together) Page 9
