Play It Safe

by Kristen Ashley

  He shrugged off his leather coat, unwrapped his scarf and, like me, tucked it on the bench between himself and the person next to him.

  “Hey, Gray,” we heard and I watched his eyes go down the table where more greetings were being called.

  He did a chin lift then introduced, “Folks, this is Ivey.”

  I lifted a hand, looked down the table as a whole and gave a lame wave.

  Then I realized it probably looked lame so I dropped it and tucked both between my thighs. As I did this, I took in a bunch of curious, friendly looks, smiles and a few greetings.

  Then, to my surprise, that was it. They turned to each other or their meals.

  Giving us privacy (kind of).

  Wow. That was nice.

  “Evenin’ Gray, hello beautiful creature that embodies the reason I put my ass on the line for this country,” I heard, my eyes grew wide, my head turned to the gravelly voice and I tipped it back to look at an old guy standing by our table to see him looking down at me. “Gray knows the drill. Gray gets a T-bone, rare, potato, loaded and loses the veggies. I gotta know about you. You want a T-bone, which, little thing like you, will kick your ass. A strip, which I recommend. A fillet, which melts in your mouth but there ain’t much to it. Or a sirloin, which is okay, still recommend the strip.”

  “Uh…then, I’ll um, go for the strip,” I told him.

  “Right, then how you want it cooked?”

  “Medium rare,” I ordered.

  “Pansy but you’re a girl, I’ll let that slide.”

  My eyes got wider.

  He kept speaking.

  “Baked potato or fries and before you waste my time, a loaded potato comes with butter, salt and pepper, sour cream and chives. If you’re gonna eat a potato, I won’t like you if you don’t get it loaded.”

  My eyes got even wider.

  “Okay, then potato. Loaded.”

  I mean, what else could I say?

  Still, truth be told, I wanted it loaded.

  “You want veggies?” he asked.

  “Uh…sure?” I asked back.

  “Women, they eat the veggies and/or make their kids eat ‘em. Men are men ‘cause they got out from under their Momma’s thumb and can say a big ‘eff you to vegetables. I carry no judgment, a woman wants her veggies,” he informed me.

  “Well, that’s good,” I muttered.

  “Still, you could bust my chops, order a steak well-done, a potato plain and ask me to steam the veggies and I’d do it for you ‘cause you’re just that beautiful.”

  Wow.

  “Thanks,” I whispered.

  “Though, that said, it’d still be a pain in my ass.”

  I heard Gray chuckle and I liked it, I liked seeing his face when he was amused but I couldn’t tear my eyes off this guy.

  “Sonny,” a female from down the table called, “there’s children present.”

  Sonny, our unusual waiter, looked down the table and asked, “My seed make that kid?”

  I heard Gray chuckle again as my eyes got even wider.

  “Of course not!” she cried, offended.

  “Then do I care?” Sonny fired back.

  I pressed my lips together. Gray’s chuckle became laughter.

  “Honestly!” the woman huffed.

  “That’s about it,” Sonny muttered then without another word he took off.

  I watched him go then my eyes dazedly drifted back to Gray to see the dimple on full display which did nothing to assist my daze.

  “Sonny’s a character,” he pointed out the obvious.

  “I think I got that,” I returned the favor.

  His dimple pressed deeper.

  Seeing that, my mind became consumed with the hope that this date would end with a kiss.

  “He went to school with my Dad,” Gray informed me.

  I pulled myself out of my thoughts and nodded.

  “Granddad died, he left Dad the place. Dad died, he left it to me,” Gray kept sharing.

  I nodded again and there it was. His Gran was living with him and it was her home. He didn’t lie and I was glad to know it.

  His voice was quieter when he asked, “What’s your Dad do?”

  My eyes slid from his as I felt steel bands clamp around my ribs.

  “Ivey,” he called and my eyes slid back.

  “Don’t know my Dad.”

  He held my eyes and I let him.

  Then he asked, “Ever?”

  I shook my head.

  I watched him pull in a soft breath.

  I changed the subject.

  “What is your place?”

  “Say again?”

  “What’s your place? Is it an orchard, a ranch, a farm?”

  “Ranch and orchard. We got peach trees and we got horses.”

  That was interesting.

  “Horses?” I asked.

  Gray nodded. “Breed ‘em, raise ‘em, break ‘em, train ‘em, sell ‘em.”

  “Oh,” I whispered, liking this. I’d never ridden a horse but I thought they were very pretty.

  “Mustangs,” he went on and my gaze sharpened on him because I liked that more even though I had no idea why. “Or they used to be,” he continued and grinned. “Obviously not wild anymore.”

  “Right,” I said softly really not knowing what he meant.

  He must have read my face because he leaned toward me and explained, “Mustangs were and still are free-roaming. In other words, wild. Sometimes, to control the population, they’ll let them be captured and adopted. But to be a true mustang, the horse needs to be wild. My great granddad and his dad before him, before they were managed, used to go out and capture them, break ‘em, breed ‘em. Sometimes we’ll adopt to get new blood because we need it since all our horses’ ancestry is mustang.”

  I thought that was fascinating.

  “Have you captured any?” I asked.

  “Yeah,” he answered.

  That was even more fascinating.

  So much, I smiled.

  Gray smiled back.

  Then he offered, “Hang around another day, dollface, take you to my barn, show you my beauties.”

  I was going to hang around another day. Definitely. Absolutely. I didn’t care if Casey’s blooming love went up in a fiery ball of flame and he was desperate to beam out of Mustang to another galaxy. I was sticking around because I was going to see Gray’s “beauties”.

  “I’d like that.”

  He smiled again.

  “I’ve never ridden a horse,” I shared and his brows went up.

  “Seriously?” he asked.

  I shook my head.

  “Then we’ll get you up on one.”

  Oh no.

  That was when I shook my head. “That’s okay. Just seeing them would be nice.”

  “No way, Ivey. You haven’t lived unless you’ve been on the back of a horse.”

  “I –” I started but he leaned further in.

  “You ride with me. You don’t like the feel of it, you’re safe, you don’t have to control anything. I got it. You like it and want to give it a shot; we’ll get you up on one alone. Your call, honey, but you gotta let me give this to you and you gotta let yourself have it. You do, swear to Christ, you’ll never regret it.”

  I ride with him.

  I was stuck there. Riding on the back of a horse with Gray.

  “Okay,” I agreed and earned another smile.

  I smiled back.

  Then suddenly I felt the mood at our table change. It was swift, palpable and I would know why when a presence hit the end of the table and a woman’s catty voice sounded.

  “Same Gray, big spender. VFW on a first date.”

  My eyes were on Gray and I saw his eyes turn stone-cold as his jaw went rock hard and he turned his head and looked up.

  I did too.

  She was pretty, not beautiful, pretty. Very pretty.

  But she thought she was God’s gift. It was clear as day.

  “Cecily,” Gray muttered
not in a welcoming way and I got the feeling he intended to say more but she beat him to it.

  Her eyes came to me. “Know you’re new in town and every girl in town knows so, fair’s fair, you should too, this is where he takes all of us.”

  “Goodness me,” a woman down the table muttered.

  I stared.

  “I should believe this, it’s you, but I still don’t believe this,” Gray ground out but I didn’t look at him. I couldn’t tear my eyes off her as her venomous gaze swung to Gray.

  “We’re girls. We don’t play games like you boys do.” She looked back at me. “Do we, sweetie?”

  I knew. That venomous look, I knew.

  She had him. She lost him. She wanted him back. She knew that wasn’t going to happen, mainly because she was a screaming bitch. If she could do this and convince herself it was okay, she could do a lot of things and think she could convince who she was doing them to, namely, at some point in the probably not-so-distant past, Gray, then she’d lose the person she was doing them to.

  Namely…Gray.

  Her dark, arched eyebrows shot up and she asked, “Do you speak?” She looked to Gray. “Is she mute?”

  I didn’t know if Gray intended to answer and this was because I was still looking at her when I did.

  “I speak though I try not to when I don’t have anything nice to say and I’m afraid I’ve been struggling the last few seconds trying to find something nice to say.”

  Her eyes shot back to me and narrowed.

  For some reason beyond me, I didn’t shut up.

  “I don’t know, I mean, I do, since you’ve made it clear you don’t but there are some of us girls who think a steak dinner in a family place where the money goes to charity and the waiter went to school with your Dad who’s passed away is a pretty darned nice first date. It’s too bad you don’t.” My head tilted ever so slightly toward Gray and I finished, my point very thinly veiled, “Really too bad.”

  “Charming,” she hissed, not smart enough to keep Gray, not dumb enough to miss my point.

  “Funny, that’s what I was thinking,” I said softly.

  She clamped her teeth shut.

  “Have you eaten?” I asked when she didn’t mosey on her way then didn’t wait for her answer when I went on, “If you haven’t, though you’ve been here, just FYI, the strip comes highly recommended.”

  “I’ve had the strip,” she retorted.

  I didn’t miss a beat. “Was it good?”

  Her nose went up in the air half an inch. “I prefer the fillet.”

  Her meaning was clear.

  Total bitch.

  “Sonny said, and it’s also my experience, there’s not much to a fillet.”

  She leaned toward me slightly and said softly, “It melts in your mouth.”

  I shrugged. “May be just me but I prefer to sink my teeth into something.”

  At that, Gray burst out laughing, my eyes moved directly to him but not before I noted Cecily’s doing the same.

  Still laughing, his dancing eyes on me, Gray forced out, “Don’t stop, darlin’, me and the rest of the VFW are enjoying the show.”

  Hells bells.

  I pressed my lips together.

  Gray’s eyes dropped to my mouth, his waning laughter waxed and it was then I heard a number of chuckles all around.

  My eyes slid to Cecily to see her face had gone red.

  “Are you done welcoming me to Mustang?” I prompted and she shot daggers at me with her eyes.

  “Enjoy your strip,” she replied snottily.

  “I intend to,” I muttered, Gray’s laughter kept sounding as did the many chuckles.

  God. Embarrassing.

  Cecily, definitely shoving her nose in the air, flounced away.

  I sighed deeply.

  “That…was…brilliant,” the woman who had tried to tell off Sonny whispered down the table at me.

  I smiled even as I bit my lip.

  “Dollface, give me your hand.”

  That was Gray and I looked to him to see his arm stretched across the table toward me, his big hand turned up. I took mine out of my lap, rested it in his and his fingers curled warm and tight around mine.

  “Last night, I bled for you. Cecily is the female version of taking on a battalion of pissed off assholes. Now I owe you,” he said, smiling at me.

  “He’s not wrong,” the man beside me leaned in to mutter then his mutter dropped to a whisper, probably because there were kids at the table. “Thinks her shit don’t stink. Probably not a surprise but you aren’t special. She spreads that cheer all around. Gets on everyone’s nerves.”

  I nodded to him.

  Gray’s hand squeezed mine and I looked back at him.

  “Thanks for havin’ my back.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  His fingers gave mine another squeeze.

  It felt nice.

  Sonny arrived and Gray’s hand quickly let mine go so both of our arms could vacate the table’s surface seeing as, if they did or didn’t, either way, Sonny was dumping two plates on the table.

  Once this was achieved, his eyes locked on mine.

  “Next time you have a verbal catfight, you call me before you engage hostilities. Yeah?” he demanded.

  Well, that didn’t take long to make the rounds.

  “Uh…all right,” I whispered.

  “Clear your plate or you’ll break my heart,” he ordered.

  “I wouldn’t wanna do that,” I muttered, looking down at my plate.

  It looked sensational.

  “I hope not,” Sonny whispered and his whisper was chock full of something, so much of it, even though him whispering at all would make my eyes shoot to his face, it was the emotion that made them make the journey in record time.

  When he caught my gaze, his, which was burning with the emotion in his voice, didn’t let mine go.

  Then he nodded his head and stomped off.

  I watched him go.

  I was still doing it when Gray prompted quietly, “Tuck in while it’s hot, dollface.”

  I looked to him.

  Then it was me who nodded.

  Then I tucked in.

  VFW charity dinner or not, Gray wasn’t wrong.

  It wasn’t only the best steak I’d ever had, it was the best meal.

  I loved every bite.

  * * * * *

  “’Night, Janie,” Gray called.

  I waved.

  “’Night you two,” Janie called back also adding a wave and a big old smile.

  Gray had his arm around my shoulders and was leading me out the door of The Rambler where, after a delicious steak dinner and conversation that, following Cecily’s warm welcome, included the whole table and that would be the rotating people who sat at it after folks finished and new folks arrived, we had a few beers and a half a dozen games of pool.

  During which I wiped the floor with a Gray who didn’t mind even a little bit.

  I figured this had to do partly with him watching me play pool not only with his eyes on my behind (which I caught more than once and it made me feel warm in a way I’d never felt before) but also just watching me shoot pool.

  He was impressed and didn’t hide it.

  It had always been a job, the hustle, second nature.

  That night, playing pool and essentially entertaining a handsome, easygoing, often smiling man I liked a great deal and with every passing second liked even more, it became a whole lot more.

  “Honest to God, you just picked up a cue and could shoot pool?” Gray asked.

  Obviously, we’d chatted. After the first evasive maneuver I had to make to deflect his question about my Dad, Gray made an effort to keep it light, for me.

  Not for him.

  I learned when Gray was twenty, his Dad died in the car wreck that took away his Grandma’s legs. Tragic without additional tragic circumstances like joyriding kids or drunk drivers. It was a snowy night and they went head-to-head with another pickup, both c
aught ice and the results weren’t pretty. His Dad died, his Gran lost her legs, the other driver lost his arm.

  I also learned his Mom left his Dad when Gray was five after suffering her third miscarriage after she had Gray. She disappeared for twelve years, no word, no sightings but then came back out-of-the-blue and tried to take up where she left off with both Gray and his father. Gray’s Dad, still alive then obviously, was not big on this option. Neither was his Gran. Neither was Gray who without evasion cared deeply for them both. His father loved his mother and her desertion of him and his son understandably didn’t go over well and her return was worse.

  She gave up but didn’t leave. Gray told me he ran into her on occasion but didn’t give her his time. She was a nurse at the local clinic. Night shifts.

  That explained his not getting stitches last night.

  I also learned that I was right; he was twenty-five, twenty-six in March.

  For my part, Gray learned Casey was twenty-seven, Casey had currently convinced himself he was falling in love and that I had a natural talent playing pool.

  It wasn’t a fair exchange but I was new to this, I was going easy and I was scared.

  I was who I was and I had a sense that he knew who I was and didn’t care.

  That said, I didn’t expect he’d be all that hip on having a pool hustling girlfriend who traveled the continental United States with her brother, playing pool, hustling idiots and returning back infrequently to have steak dinners with him at the VFW.

  I didn’t know what I was doing or where this was going.

  I just knew right then, for the first time since I could remember, maybe the first time in my life, I knew I liked right where I was.

  So I was living that moment and doing the best I could.

  Gray didn’t seem to mind.

  “Yeah,” I answered his question as we walked into the cold and Gray moved us down the sidewalk toward the hotel which was away from his pickup thus clearly stated we were taking a short walk. “I mean, I wasn’t as good as I am now but it isn’t far off.”

  “You got a head for numbers?” Gray asked and I looked up at his profile, feeling his arm around me, my arm, which had slid around his waist, and thinking, strangely, walking tucked to his side and held by him, that it didn’t seem cold.

  Not even a little bit.

  “A head for numbers?” I asked back.