Playing With You

by Cheyenne McCray

  Deena ignored Garrett as she walked down the hall and disappeared from sight. The picture with the broken glass was no longer where he’d set it. All of the pictures were gone, for that matter, including the box they’d been in.

  “How are you feeling?” He went to Ricki and settled his hands on her shoulders and squeezed.

  “Fine.” She offered him a smile but her expression was pained.

  He kissed her forehead, feeling her soft skin against his firm lips. He breathed in the scent that was all Ricki. “I’m going to get the last two boxes and I want you to rest. Understand?”

  He held her shoulders still until she nodded. “Okay.”

  Just as he was about to kiss Ricki, Deena returned, carrying a small cup of water and a couple of pain reliever tablets in one outstretched hand.

  Garrett stepped out of the way and Ricki took the tablets and put them in her mouth before grasping the small paper cup and swallowing down the pain reliever.

  He could have imagined it, but he thought he saw malice in Deena’s eyes when she glanced at him. The woman was a man hater, no doubt about it.

  It took one more trip to get the last of Deena’s things. She refused the offer of further help and said that she’d put everything away that was boxed herself.

  “Thank you for your help.” Deena hugged Ricki, clearly mindful of her sprained wrist. “I imagine you have something planned for later today.”

  Garrett spoke even though Deena’s words had been directed at Ricki. “If you don’t need anything else, we’ll get out of your hair.”

  What there was of it. Deena’s spiked hair seemed impossibly shorter at an inch long at most. Last time he’d seen her, he’d detected her dark roots, but her hair was bleached to the scalp once again.

  “Next Sunday is spa day.” Deena’s smile broadened as she looked at Ricki. “It’ll be a fun girls’ day out.” She emphasized girls. “Make sure you take care of that wrist.”

  “I’m looking forward to it.” Ricki’s smile matched Deena’s. “I’ve never been to a spa in Sedona.”

  “It’s going to be fantastic,” Deena said.

  After Ricki told Deena goodbye, and Ricki had started toward the door, Garrett gave Deena a nod. She just glared at him. Her glare vanished when Ricki glanced back.

  Deena waved and Garrett put his arm around Ricki’s shoulders and walked with her to his truck.

  “How does an afternoon at the rodeo sound?” he asked as he helped her up into his truck.

  “I’d love that,” she said. “I’ve never been to a rodeo.”

  “I’m happy to be your first,” he said with a grin.

  She returned his grin before he closed the passenger door and headed to the driver’s side.

  When he climbed in, she reached over the console and squeezed his hand. “Thank you for coming today. I know you and Deena don’t see eye-to-eye and it probably wasn’t the most comfortable for you.”

  He squeezed her hand in return. “As long as you’re happy, that’s all that matters.”

  “You’re a good man,” she said with a smile.

  He pushed aside old negative feelings that wanted to rush forth and he kept his expression composed. “I don’t know about that, but I am thankful for you.” He leaned over and kissed her. Her lips were so soft against his. He drew back and she was smiling at him.

  Prickles went up his spine. He glanced at the doorway to Deena’s home and saw her glaring at him before she slammed the door shut.

  Chapter 23

  The rodeo was loud and dusty and packed with cowboys in western hats and Wranglers covering nice asses with Skoal rings on a lot of back pockets. Plenty of cowgirls were at the rodeo, too, and the place smelled of cows, horses, and concession stand food.

  The April day remained bright and clear and the sun had been warm enough to give Ricki a slight sunburn and turn her shoulders pink. While they watched the rodeo, she especially enjoyed the women’s barrel racing competition, the men’s bronc riding, and the kids’ goat tying events.

  It was evening when they left, the arena’s lights illuminating the parking lot. Hair that had escaped her braid floated around her face in a soft breeze.

  They were nearly to Garrett’s truck, his arm around her shoulders, when a man stepped in front of them.

  The man squared off with Garrett, face screwed up in fury. “You sonofabitch.”

  Ricki blinked and realized it was Andy Johnson. He’d come into the bakery with his wife, Sally, a few times.

  Puzzled, Ricki looked at Garrett, whose eyes were narrowed at Andy.

  When she looked back at Andy, his face was purple with anger. “You ruined my marriage.”

  Ricki frowned. What?

  “You ruined your own marriage.” Garrett released Ricki and stepped away from her, gently pushing her behind him before getting in Andy’s face. Fury was apparent on Garrett’s features. “You’re a cheating bastard.”

  “You had no damned business spying on me.” Without warning, Andy swung his fist at Garrett’s face.

  Ricki cried out, eyes wide, stomach swooping in fear.

  Garrett blocked the swing with one forearm. “Cheating sonofabitch.” With his opposite hand he drove his fist into Andy’s face.

  The loud smack of flesh rang through the air as Andy’s head snapped to the side. He shouted as blood poured from his nose.

  “Garrett!” Ricki cried out, horror prickling her skin, but he didn’t seem to notice when she called out his name.

  Andy went after Garrett again, slamming his fist into Garrett’s solar plexus. Garrett grunted then grabbed Andy by his shirt.

  Garrett jerked Andy close, drew back his fist, and landed another punch, this time to Andy’s eye. Skin split and more blood ran down his face.

  Andy looked even more enraged. When Garrett released him, Andy stumbled back. He regained his balance, stepped in Garrett’s space, and swung at him.

  Garrett blocked the next shot then rammed his fist into Andy’s gut. He didn’t stop there. He punched Andy twice more and the man dropped to the asphalt. Garrett grabbed Andy by the shirt again, and jerked him to his feet. “Sally deserves better than you,” Garrett said as he drew back his fist.

  “Stop!” Tears rolled down Ricki’s cheeks as she saw the violence in Garrett’s eyes. She grabbed his arm and held on. “That’s enough!”

  Garrett didn’t move for a moment, and then a change went over his features as he seemed to come back to himself. He pushed Andy away and the man tripped and fell back against a truck, which kept him from dropping.

  Andy glared at Garrett and wiped blood from his nose with his sleeve. “You’d better stay out of my way, McBride.” Andy had hatred in his eyes. “Or you’ll be sorry.”

  Garrett stared the man down and said nothing, fury still on his features that now looked harsh in the parking lot’s artificial lighting. Andy turned and stumbled away.

  The violence Ricki had just witnessed churned her stomach. She stared at Garrett as he refused to look at her for a long moment. He seemed to be trying to regain his self-control.

  He turned to face her and his chest rose and fell and he looked like he was attempting to slow his breathing. The hardness and fury in his eyes started to fade.

  “I’m sorry you had to see that,” he finally said.

  Tears threatened at the backs of her eyes and she couldn’t think of anything to say. The violence had scared her and her body hurt from tension.

  She moved away from Garrett and walked from him toward his truck. She tugged on the door handle, but the door was locked. He came up to her and took her by the shoulders and turned her to face him.

  Refusing to look at him, she stared past his shoulder. “You didn’t need to do that. You could have walked away.”

  “You’re right.” He let out a harsh breath. “We’ll talk about it, but not here.”

  “Maybe I don’t want to talk about it.” She moved her gaze to his. “Maybe I’ve seen enough.”

  H
e moved his hands from her shoulders. He reached for the door handle as he unlocked the door with the remote. When the door was open, he helped her into the truck. Her whole body felt stiff as he touched her.

  Even as angry as she was, she found herself wanting to turn to him, throw her arms around his neck, and hold on to him. But that was the last thing she was going to do.

  After he helped her with the seatbelt so that she didn’t have to use her bad wrist, he shut the door behind her. He strode around the truck and climbed in. After his seatbelt was on, he put his hand to his solar plexus and winced.

  He didn’t look at her as he started the truck, but when the big engine roared to life, he gripped the steering wheel and stared out into the night. A moment later he seemed to come to a decision and put the vehicle into reverse and backed up before leaving the parking lot.

  They were quiet as he drove and then she furrowed her brow as he started to drive out of town instead of heading toward her neighborhood.

  She frowned. “Where are you taking me?”

  “My place,” he said quietly.

  She shook her head. “I want to go home.”

  “There was a time when I would have done just that and walked away.” He glanced at her. “But not with you, Ricki.”

  She wasn’t sure how she felt anymore as she crossed her arms over her chest and stared out the window as the dark scenery flew by.

  It wasn’t too long before he pulled down a dirt road and drove toward a ranch-style house with a porch light on but the windows dark. Even though it was nighttime, she could see the house was made out of an adobe-colored brick. A couple of buildings were crouched to the right of the house, the headlights bouncing off of them as the truck rattled over a cattle guard.

  He parked in front of the house and killed the engine. He said nothing as he climbed out of the truck and closed the door. She was still unfastening her seatbelt with her good hand when he opened the passenger door. She did need his help but she remained stubbornly quiet as he helped her out.

  They walked side-by-side to the house and Garrett unlocked the door before turning on a light in the house and letting them in.

  The house was neat and clean with casual cowhide furniture and a polished knotted wood coffee table with matching end tables, and there were a couple of framed Norman Rockwell prints on the walls, along with other artwork. The room smelled of air freshener and lemon oil.

  “The cleaners came today,” he said in explanation. “I have them take care of the place once a month.”

  She nodded as he closed the door behind her and she said, “I like it.” She turned to face him. “I don’t know what we’re doing here, though.”

  “You’ve got to be hungry by now,” he said. “Those hotdogs we ate at the rodeo were a long time ago.”

  “As long as we talk afterward,” she said as she studied him.

  “Yes.” He held her gaze. “We’ll talk.”

  He turned and headed through an archway. She followed him into a kitchen with high ceilings, oak cabinets, and granite countertops. The appliances were black, the floor was done in large adobe-colored tiles, and there was a heavy oak table with six chairs in an alcove to the left.

  “I like your house.” She paused to look around the kitchen that needed a woman’s hand. It was inviting, but lacked touches of warmth. With her love of decorating and making home improvements, she thought of things that would make the kitchen come alive.

  He ducked down and looked into the fridge. “What are you hungry for?” He turned and glanced over his shoulder. “If you’d like hamburgers or steaks, I can grill some.”

  “Okay.” She moved closer to him. “What can I do to help?”

  It wasn’t long before he fired up the grill for the steaks and hamburgers and in the kitchen they were cooking mashed potatoes and green beans. The house smelled of barbeque and the warm cornbread she’d whipped up from her favorite recipe.

  She was afraid dinner was going to be a silent affair, but they talked about the rodeo—everything but what had happened afterward. When they were finished eating, leftovers put away, and dishes finished, Garrett took her by her good hand and led her through the open arcadia doors to a pair of large chaise lounges near the barbeque grill.

  Outside, a swath of stars covered the sky and it still smelled of mesquite wood and barbeque. Cool night air brushed her skin and she shivered.

  “Come here.” He drew her close to him and then he eased into one of the large lounge chairs with her on his lap. “I’ll keep you warm.”

  She wanted to pull away and tell him that she didn’t want to be that close until they talked. But she gradually relaxed in his arms. It felt good being held by him, her head resting on his chest.

  “I wanted your first visit to my home to be a good memory,” he said, regret in his voice. “I’m sorry.”

  “What happened out there?” Her throat was dry as she spoke.

  He rubbed his temples with his thumb and forefinger. “Sally Johnson is my client. She hired me to find out if her husband, Andy, was cheating on her.”

  “And apparently you did,” Ricki said quietly.

  “Yeah.” He sighed. “I hate those cases but I hate even more when I find out that the person who hired me was right in his or her suspicions.”

  “You shouldn’t have fought him, Garrett.” Ricki clenched her hands in her lap. “You should have walked away.”

  “You’re right.” He frowned. “I know Sally from way back. We went to school together.”

  “So you were looking for an excuse,” she said.

  “No.” He bit out the word. “I would never have touched him if he hadn’t come after me first.” He stroked Ricki’s arm with his thumb as he looked up at the stars. “But you’re right, I should have walked away. All it would have taken was one movement and I could have stopped him without hurting him.”

  “Why didn’t you?” Her voice sounded flat. “Why did you lose control like that?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head then stopped. “Yes, I do know. It’s because I can’t stand to see anyone go through that kind of pain, especially a woman.”

  Ricki frowned. “You wanted to hurt him.”

  “Yes, I did.” He sighed again. “All I can do is hope you’ll forgive me and I promise to do my best to never lose control like that again.”

  Ricki was silent for a moment. “Where does your anger come from? It’s there, isn’t it…inside of you, something that never quite goes away.”

  His features tightened. “You’re pretty damned observant.”

  She put her hand over his, where it rested on her thigh. “I want to know.”

  “All right.” He linked his fingers with hers. “This won’t be easy. It’s something I don’t talk about and have never told anyone before. You might even hate me when I finish telling you.”

  His last statement made her feel off-balance. What could he tell her that would make her hate him?

  “It goes back to when I was a kid.” He gripped her hand tightly, probably more than he’d intended. “My childhood wasn’t what you’d call fun or pleasant.”

  Ricki waited for him to explain, not wanting to interrupt him.

  “My birth father, Butch, was a real bastard.” Garrett’s voice sounded like his throat was constricted. “Butch beat my mother and brother, and he beat me. He didn’t have to be drunk to do it. He did it for the fun of it.”

  Ricki sucked in her breath.

  “Mom didn’t know about the old man knocking me and Reese around,” Garrett said. “He hid it real well and told us if we breathed one word he would beat Mom to death, so we were afraid to say anything. Seeing my younger brother being whipped and punched was more than I could stand.” Garrett clenched his hand into a fist. “But I was so small and I felt so damned helpless.”

  Garrett made a disgusted sound before he continued. “If beating all of us wasn’t enough, he was having an affair with the woman next door.”

  “So th
at’s why cheating makes you so angry,” Ricki said.

  “I finally figured out a way to get the old man,” Garrett said. “I ‘borrowed’ Butch’s camera, followed him, and took pictures of him and his mistress. I also managed to sneak photos of my father beating Reese while Mom was at work. I wanted to prove where Reese really got all of his bruises. It wasn’t on the playground.”

  Garrett dragged his hand down his face. “Once the photos were developed and I showed them to Mom, they were the final straw in a whole haystack of things Butch did to our family. She confronted the bastard and threw the pictures at him. He beat the hell out of her, screaming, demanding to know where she’d gotten the pictures. She refused to tell him no matter how badly he beat her.”

  Ricki’s stomach sickened as Garrett spoke. She thought about Angel, the sweet woman she’d met at the Easter gathering and what she’d been through.

  Garrett’s voice grew angrier and angrier. “I’d always been something of a sleuth as a kid and that must’ve dawned on Butch because he turned on me. I tried to fight back but I was too young and too small compared to that big bastard. He broke my arm and knocked me around pretty good.”

  “My God.” Ricki’s heart ached for him, his mother, and his brother. “How did you get away from him?”

  “Mom grabbed the cast iron frying pan from the top of the stove and slammed it into the back of Butch’s head while he was beating me, knocking the bastard out cold.” Garrett pushed his fingers through his hair. “While he was out, we bound him with duct tape and left him there for the police. I wanted to hit him again with the frying pan. He’d hurt us all so badly over the years that I didn’t care if it killed him, but Mom said we weren’t going to be like him. We packed up and left. First for the police station and then to a shelter.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Ricki felt tears pricking at her eyes for the second time tonight. But this time her oncoming tears were for the small boy Garrett had been as well as for Reese and Angel. “Your mother is a strong woman to have done what she did.”