Nah, she should slip out and grab something to eat at a restaurant or hide out in her room until he went to sleep. Either choice was preferable to sharing a meal with him, alone in this house. On the other hand, she couldn’t let him see how uncomfortable he’d made her. She was well within her rights to be in the house, and letting him push her around wasn’t going to get her anywhere.
• • •
Gavin turned a beautiful strip steak over on the grill and smiled at Merle, who was rolling around on his back, clearly enjoying the evening and unconcerned about their houseguest. He could see Macy inside, poking around in the kitchen, surveying the refrigerator and opening cabinets. Torn between wanting her to get the hell out of the house and convincing her to let him buy it, he set the steaks on the oversized platter waiting on the side of the grill. He couldn’t stand around in the backyard, burning steaks and avoiding her all night. Best to go in and face the situation head-on. Merle seemed content to bask in the waning sun, so Gavin closed the lid on the grill and carried the platter to the back door that led into the kitchen. Macy’s head jerked up in surprise, the knife she was using to chop up vegetables for a salad nearly slipping from her grip.
“Careful. If we have to go to the emergency room, dinner will get cold.” He kicked the door closed behind him and set the platter on the counter. He reached around her to grab a couple of pot holders, brushing against her and tamping down the zing of energy that sparked between them. She ducked out of his reach as though burned. “Don’t worry,” he said as he slipped the oven mitts onto his hands and held them up in innocence. “I’m not going to try to kiss you or anything.”
“I know that,” she snapped, though the hint of a blush crept up her neck and into her cheeks.
“I’ll let you finish that.” He indicated her salad-in-progress. “And then dinner will be ready.”
He pulled baked potatoes from the oven and assembled condiments while she finished chopping up a cucumber and scraped the pieces into the salad bowl with the rest of the vegetables. Her determination to concentrate on her task instead of making eye contact or speaking to him gave him a chance to decide how to approach their evening together. He’d have to back off a little, try to rein in his irritation at having her in his home, if he expected to get anywhere. If he pushed her, she might reconsider letting him stay, and then where would he be?
They ate dinner in awkward near-silence at the kitchen table, peppering the meal with no more than the occasional request for a condiment or comment about the food. Macy steadfastly refused to look at him more than was absolutely necessary, keeping her eyes trained on her meal, so Gavin took the opportunity to watch her. She hadn’t changed much since they were teenagers. She still had the same beautiful blond hair, worn loose in no particular style. Her face was still pretty, but some of the bright-eyed enthusiasm had been replaced by the grief of her loss, worn like a mask. They hadn’t kept in touch, so he didn’t know how she coped, but he could guess that it was much like he had in the beginning: operating on little sleep, eating nothing but unhealthy convenience foods, if anything, and only going to work because his staff and patients depended on him. Gavin would’ve given almost anything to make the pain go away.
Tori had been his best friend, but they weren’t able to spend much time together after she became famous. He’d been gutted by the loss, but at least he wasn’t used to having her around every day. Macy had to have taken it even worse. Her professional life had been upended, daily routines shattered, and with an uncertain future, she was surely miserable. Still, if she’d only been more responsible, Tori would be alive. Part of him wondered if he’d ever forgive her, even knowing that she suffered enough having to live with the consequences of her actions.
Finally, his curiosity about how long Macy would be in town and whether or not he’d be forced to move won out over his ruminations. He couldn’t make a plan until he knew hers. “So, how long are you planning on staying in Sweet Ridge? Surely, you have a concert coming up or have to be back at your show or something, right?”
She swallowed the bite she’d been chewing and dabbed at her lips with a cloth napkin embroidered with an elaborate letter C. “I’m actually not sure when I’m going back to Nashville. We’re on a brief break for the summer before the new season starts, so this is perfect timing.”
“I’d think you’d use the time between seasons to record or book your tours.”
Macy looked away, letting her gaze fall on the salt and pepper shakers in the middle of the table. “I don’t go on tour anymore.”
“Never?” True, he wouldn’t be first in line for a ticket or anything, but he never thought she’d given up performing altogether. Come to think of it, he hadn’t heard any solo Macy Young songs on the radio.
“Not since Tori died. I haven’t recorded anything, I don’t go on tour, and I don’t sing. I never sing.” She put her fork and knife down on the plate.
“Because you feel guilty?”
She flinched at his words, and he felt a prick of regret, but the truth was that her actions led to the death of his best friend and her partner. Perhaps she should feel a little guilty.
“Because I can’t. I haven’t been able to sing since she’s been gone, and as much as it hurts, I’m okay with it. It feels fair.”
“But what about on your show?” America’s Next Country Star was Grayson’s guilty pleasure not his, but Gavin couldn’t imagine they’d have a star as big as her and not have her sing.
“None of the judges sing. We judge the contestants and give our opinions. We don’t perform.”
“That show’s only a couple of years old. What about the years after Tori died? Did you just not work at all?” Why he cared about her career or financial affairs was a mystery, but how could she have just … quit? Maybe all her rowdy and unprofessional behavior had caught up to her. Even as careful as he’d been to limit his exposure to her, Macy Young was famous enough that news of her bad behavior occasionally seeped onto his radar. He knew she’d been in minor altercations at bars and clubs, thrown out after screaming matches with strangers, and he’d read that she trashed a hotel room or two and was a no-show for performances. Things must have gotten worse than that.
“You know, if you want to know what I did after Tori died, why don’t you just read a tabloid? I was headline news on every celebrity gossip site for a while there.” She cut her steak with more vigor than was necessary. “I ruined everything, and I didn’t care. Didn’t even know that my own mother had passed away until my boyfriend told me, since I couldn’t be bothered to answer my phone most of the time.”
“You have a boyfriend? What do you think he’d say about you staying in the house with me?” He speared a chunk of cucumber in his salad. “Not that I care, of course.”
“He’s not my boyfriend any more, hasn’t been for a while. I wasn’t exactly lovable. Turns out being a hot mess isn’t such a turn-on for most guys. Happy?” Challenge flashed in her eyes, daring him to take another dig at her.
“Of course not. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it.”
She put her knife down and relaxed her shoulders. “It’s fine. You were right. I felt guilty, and a few years of self-destructive behavior made me feel like I was getting what I deserved. The night Dave—that was my boyfriend—had to track me down to tell me my mom had passed away was the night I realized I’d hit rock bottom. She had congestive heart failure and hadn’t been doing well. For a while, I was able to take care of her. I’d visit her, clean up around her house, fill her prescriptions, things like that. I think the days I spent with her were the only times I didn’t sit around feeling sorry for myself. Then a program about Young and Wilde aired, and it was like Tori had died all over again. I holed up in my house, refusing to answer the phone, not making any contact with the outside world, and she passed away during that time. Dave was already beyond pissed off with me because I’d done it before, the whole hermit routine, but I missed taking her to a doctor’s appointment.
He was a real trouper, rescheduled her appointment and took her since I was useless. He was the one who found her.” She took a deep breath, keeping her eyes trained on her plate. “He’s a good guy, really. Better than I deserved. But that night, he had to pull the blankets off me and practically drag me out of my bed since I wouldn’t get up. After everything he’d been through that day, he had to deal with me acting like a child, and it was finally too much for him.
“After that, I knew I had to pull my shit together or I’d end up homeless or lying in a ditch somewhere. I couldn’t blame him for leaving me, but without my mom, he really was the last person I had left. They were the only two who’d stuck around, and whether I sank or swim at that point was entirely up to me. It was a miserable time, but at least I picked myself up and got back to work.”
“But not as a singer.”
“Nope. I’d pushed Dave away along with everyone else, but he stuck by me as a friend. God only knows why he did it, but I hate to think where I’d be without him. He’d just been hired as the first judge on the show, and he convinced the producers to take a look at me.” She shrugged. “I thought it was kind of cheesy to be on a talent competition show at first, but it kind of saved my life.”
If Macy had been able to go on with her life as though nothing had happened, he would’ve been surprised. In a way, he was glad she felt bad. It meant that she recognized everything that they’d lost, and she hadn’t taken it lightly. Still, her bravado was absent, and he wasn’t interested in making her cry at dinner.
• • •
Wishing she hadn’t revealed so much to Gavin, and wishing even more that their dinner would end, she shoved a big bite of steak into her mouth and chewed, though swallowing past her sadness wasn’t easy. Gavin opened his mouth and then closed it without speaking, like he wanted to ask more, to talk about Tori.
After the accident, Macy had been forced to come up with ways to talk about her friend and partner without breaking down in interviews. When changing the subject didn’t work, she’d deliver one of her pat answers about Tori living on through their music, or how Tori would’ve thought whatever contestant on the show Macy loved was great. Luckily, most people would take the hint and move past talk of the past. Every once in a while, an interviewer would push for more, and Macy had to either get up and walk out or bite the bullet and answer. It had been as painful as she’d expected, but none of the people asking about Tori had really known her, and Macy hated that they used her tragedy for their ratings.
Nobody who knew and loved Tori could help Macy through her guilt and grief. Tori’s parents and younger sister were devastated when she died, and they had a hard enough time keeping their family together. They certainly weren’t available to comfort Macy, especially since they’d known how rough things were between them before she died. Young and Wilde’s manager was wrapped up in the business of canceling concerts and fielding as much of the press as she could take off of Macy’s plate. And after being away from Sweet Ridge for so long, Macy didn’t have any friends she’d kept up with enough to turn to for comfort.
Being surrounded by people but essentially alone to grieve meant that Macy had to depend on herself. And she’d done a terrible job, sending her life and career straight into the gutter.
She swallowed her bite and took a sip of water. She had to change the subject before Gavin asked anything else about Tori. “So, this steak is delicious.”
Lame, she knew, but maybe he would get the hint and move on.
“It’s all in the seasoning. My mother’s famous spice blend. I use all her recipes.”
“She must have been a wonderful cook.” Great, they were getting into a conversation about yet another beloved dead woman, but thankfully, Gavin didn’t seem uncomfortable. Mrs. Cooper had died long before she knew any of them, and her sons had always spoken about her in a matter-of-fact way. “Is that how you learned?”
“A little. She died when we were so young that she didn’t exactly have time to teach me. She always hid out in the kitchen to get away from my dad when they argued, which was a lot, and I’d come in here to keep her company. I could tell when she was really mad because she’d be in here pounding out bread dough and cursing under her breath.” He closed his eyes briefly and shook his head, a small smile playing on his lips. “Come to think of it, we spent a lot of time in here without Dad. I remember sitting on the kitchen counter while she rolled out cookie dough and licking spoons when she mixed up batter. She was a great baker, and she loved to make desserts for people. She used to make half a dozen pies for Thanksgiving, and she’d always let me pinch the piecrusts and brush the egg wash over the tops. Being in this kitchen with her was one of my favorite things, and it’s what I miss about her the most. We have all her recipes, though, so she’s always with us.”
“So your dad must have had to teach you then. I’ll bet that was hard for him.”
“My dad never learned how to cook anything,” Gavin said with a laugh. “He was a disaster in the kitchen when it came to anything but guacamole. After our mom died, he had to raise the three of us himself and run his company, so he didn’t have time to turn on the stove, much less teach us anything. Our nanny taught me and Grayson. Gage was never much interested in being in the kitchen.”
She’d guess that he’d told the story before, and that plenty of women felt more tender toward the poor motherless Cooper boys after hearing it. She’d been raised by a single parent, too, though, and there was no money, and no nanny, to help her mother with the task.
“Your nanny taught you.” It was impossible to keep the edge out of her voice. She hated that his mother had passed away, of course, but she wasn’t going to feel sorry for the rich kid whose hired help had to teach him how to do household chores.
“Yeah. My dad did the best he could, but raising kids on his own was a lot of work.” He swallowed hard, probably realizing what he’d said as soon as the words were out of his mouth. “Oh, sorry. I know your mom was on her own, too. I’m sure that was hard.”
He trailed off. To say that her mother had it hard was a joke. Her mother cut corners to keep the lights on and food on the table. Without anything like the extraordinary resources the Cooper family drew from, Macy’s mother made tough choices every day, choices Gavin couldn’t imagine: working an extra shift or being home to help Macy with her homework. Buying fresh produce or paying her water bill. Life was hard, and nothing came without a price. How she managed to somehow keep everything afloat while making sure that her daughter knew how loved she was mystified Macy, and made her feel more than a little guilty when she allowed herself to wallow in grief.
There were many times when, after not leaving the house or speaking to another soul for a week, Macy realized how self-indulgent she’d become, how disappointed her hardworking and practical mother must be. Her mother never had the luxury of lying in bed for a week because she was too depressed to move, but she never judged Macy for failing to pick herself up and get on with her life. Mom just kept showing up, trying to feed Macy warm casseroles and washing her bedsheets no matter how much she protested, until her health problems railroaded her. Taking care of her mother had given Macy a temporary reprieve from the disaster she’d made of her own life, but in the end, even a mother’s love wasn’t enough to avoid self-pity.
“Yes, she had it pretty hard.” Her voice carried a harsh edge, but she didn’t care. “When I think I can’t go on, I remind myself of everything she had to do to survive.”
“I guess everybody has to find ways to carry on after they lose someone. I’d just taken over the clinic when Tori died, and a lot of the time it felt like too much. I had to rely on my dad and brothers a lot more than I wanted to.”
“Yeah, well, five years ago I was about to turn thirty and I had everything I’d ever wanted. My career was going great, and the world was at my feet. Then instead of putting out a new album and launching a world tour, I buried my best friend. Everything died that day, and you don’t have exclusive
rights to grief. You’re not the only one who got hurt. At least you had your perfect family and everyone in this perfect town to turn to. I didn’t have anybody. And I still don’t.” Shaking as she balled her napkin into a tight ball, Macy stopped herself. “You know what? I think I’m going to go to my room. Thank you for dinner.”
Macy stood and pushed her chair in, almost walking out of the kitchen without clearing her plate from the table. She’d noticed Gavin’s irritated glances at her things lying around the house, and she didn’t care if it bothered him or not. It was her house, after all. Leaving a dirty dish on the table just to prove a point wouldn’t help anything, though, so she rinsed it off in the sink and tucked it into the dishwasher.
But he didn’t look up, and, vaguely disappointed that he’d ignored her attempt to feel superior tonight, she headed upstairs to hide out behind the closed door of her bedroom.
Chapter Five
Gavin went in to work the next morning, glad for the chance to get away from Macy for the next eight hours or so. His carefully constructed righteous anger was dangerously close to being toppled. Somehow she managed to throw him off balance without even trying, and it was refreshing to be in his office, where he’d be in charge for a while. He paused at the reception desk, giving Merle the chance to sniff around to see which other dogs had been in the lobby recently.
“Good morning, Susan.” He leaned down, unleashed his black Lab, and patted his head. The dog bounded behind the desk to get his morning treat and pets from the office manager, who obliged him and sent him on his way with a kiss on his furry forehead.
Sweet Texas Kiss (Sweet Texas Secrets) Page 6
