The Trouble With Tomboys

by Linda Kage

  Swallowing, he numbly moved to the phone, slowing with each step until he was there. His fingers came up, and they hovered over the delete button, debating. If he pushed it, he’d never hear Amy again.

  Above him, he heard a muffled thump—B.J. flopping a bag of baby things on the guest room floor, no doubt. Grady stared up at the ceiling.

  If he didn’t push the button, what would she think? Realizing he wouldn’t be able to move on and start his future until he let go of the past, he punched the button and gasped out a breath as he did so.

  His heart pounded against his chest, and his finger stayed glued to the delete button for seconds after he knew the message was already gone. Letting out a shaky laugh, he pulled away and stared at the phone as if he expected it to exact some kind of revenge for his actions.

  “I’ll always love you,” he whispered, hoping somewhere up there, Amy heard him. “No matter what.”

  Feeling a strange relief, like he’d just freed a caged dog and was watching it enjoy all the wide open space, he blew out a breath. Lifting his face toward the ceiling again, he smiled slightly and started for the stairs.

  The door to the guest room was still open, and he could hear her moving around inside. Grady approached quietly. He stopped just before entering and peeked around the corner. She sat on the bed, holding up the tiniest pair of high top sneakers he’d ever seen. It was the awed smile on her face that caught him right in the chest though.

  More than anything, he wanted to go inside, sit next to her and see all the things she and Jo Ellen had picked out. But she looked so happy, doused in her private thoughts, he felt himself stepping back instead. Since she was upset with him, he didn’t want to ruin such a special moment for her.

  He retreated to their bedroom, stripped to his boxers, and crawled into bed. After shutting off the light, he lay there, wondering how the hell he was going to deal with this.

  ****

  When B.J. went to bed, Grady was already lying under the covers on his side of the mattress with his eyes closed. She swore he was faking it. But she didn’t want another confrontation just then, so she quietly slipped into an oversized T-shirt and eased onto the mattress beside him. He didn’t stir.

  It took her a long time to fall asleep. And when she did, she dreamed of him and Amy at a hospital, delivering a healthy baby. The smile on Grady’s face was so radiant, she jerked awake with a gasp.

  The first traces of light were starting to enter the room through the shades, so she crawled out of bed, feeling drained and sore. She took a shower, dressed and left the bedroom before Grady woke.

  He joined her just as she poured milk over her cereal. Unable to look at him, she merely put the carton in the fridge and moved silently to the table. As she seated herself, she watched him out of the corner of her eye. He went to the back door, disappeared outside for a few seconds before returning with a newspaper.

  She munched noisily, staring straight ahead as he fixed his own bowl of cereal and finally seated himself across from her.

  Unable to take it anymore, she muttered, “I’m messing up, aren’t I?”

  In the middle of unrolling the paper, Grady snapped his head up. “What?”

  “Are we fighting?”

  He blinked. “Uh. . .” he stalled, looking confused. “What makes you think we’re fighting?”

  “Well, when you walked in here this morning, I noticed your hair was kind of messed up and I thought it looked really sexy. So, naturally, I thought about what it’d feel like to run my fingers through it and then, wham, this totally erotic fantasy popped into my head of me crawling into your lap, right there where you’re sitting at the table and riding you like there was no tomorrow. But I held myself back because I thought. . .well, you’re mad at me for not calling you yesterday. You probably don’t want me anywhere near you.”

  He straightened. “I’m not mad at you.”

  “You’re not?”

  He shook his head.

  She scowled. “So, why didn’t you touch me last night?”

  He laughed. “I don’t know.” He ran his hands through his hair, making it look even sexier. “I guess I thought you were mad at me.”

  “Why would I be mad at you?” she demanded to know. That kind of thinking was just. . .stupid.

  He shrugged.

  “I’m not mad,” she said. “And I still want to ride you like there’s no tomorrow.”

  He was already dropping his newspaper and scooting back his chair. “Then what’re you still doing over there?”

  B.J. laughed. Popping to her feet before he could change his mind and realize he really was mad at her, she rushed around the table and straddled his hips just as he unzipped his fly.

  “Hurry,” he growled, his eyes already unfocused and glassy.

  B.J. kissed him hard and ground her middle against him, making him groan and sink his teeth into her bottom lip.

  “I’m not kidding,” he added. “Hurry. I need you. Now.”

  As he skimmed his hands up her torso and rid her of her shirt, she slipped off her panties. He reached for her hips and jerked her down. When she sheathed him with her heat, they both caught their breaths. To keep them from tipping over backward in the chair, he braced his legs wider, which spread her thighs in the process, leaving her open and vulnerable. The resulting effect caused her to clench around him.

  His already glazed eyes dilated. Grabbing her hair with both hands, he yanked so hard tears of pain clogged her lashes.

  “God. Oh, God,” he rasped and jerked up into her, nearly bucking her off his lap. Squeezing her hips more securely around him, she stared into his eyes and came just when she felt him shudder.

  He buried his face in her shoulder, and she wrapped her arms around him, kissing his temple.

  “I think I like starting the day this way,” he murmured.

  B.J. threw back her head and laughed. But her chuckle died when he lifted his face and she caught his frown. He reached for her cheek and touched a tear at the corner of her eye with his index finger.

  “I hurt you?”

  Realizing he was worried, not angry, she let out a relieved breath and rolled her eyes. “God, Slim. Don’t you remember trying to yank me bald? You damn near pulled my hair out by the roots.”

  “I did?” Eyes wide with concern and alarm, he reached for her scalp and eased his finger gently over her still aching noggin. “God, B.J., I’m sorry. I didn’t realize—”

  “Oh, can it, Rawlings. I loved every second. Sometimes, nothing hits the spot like a full dose of rowdy sex.” To prove her point, she purred like a contented cat and stretched out her arms above her head. “Man, I feel great.”

  But when she glanced over her shoulder at the tabletop, she frowned. “Oh, damn. My breakfast went soggy.”

  Grady burst out laughing.

  B.J. whirled around and gaped at him, a little shocked to hear him laugh so openly. She’d seen him smile and even chuckle in the past few weeks, but. . .she hadn’t seen him really let go like this. Watching him laugh now caused something inside her to spark. And she fell in love. . .completely, hopelessly, irreversibly in love with her husband.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tucker Rawlings couldn’t stop pacing. But where the hell was his son? Grady never arrived late. He checked the clock on the wall, then the watch on his wrist, and cursed. If the kid didn’t walk through that door within ten seconds—

  The door opened and Grady entered. Tucker almost jumped out of his skin. Okay, that was Twilight Zone weird.

  Whistling as he moseyed through the entrance like he hadn’t a care in the world, Grady lifted his hand in greeting, and Tucker returned to his senses.

  “Grady, where the hell have you been? The meeting was supposed to start fifteen minutes ago. Your mother’s been trying to entertain a room full of investors with coffee and doughnuts, but they’re getting restless.”

  “Oh, hell,” Grady yelped and leapt into action, hurrying toward his office. “I comple
tely forgot about the meeting.”

  “Do you have your presentation with you?” Tucker trailed his every step, unable to believe his ears. Grady never forgot meetings. . .and come to think of it, he never whistled either. Not since—

  He slowed to a stop.

  “It’s in my office,” Grady assured him, opening the door and flying into the room. He snagged the folder off his desktop.

  Tucker shook his head, forcing his mind back to the task at hand. Meetings. Investors. Got it.

  “Thank God,” he said, but only paused again as he took in the features on his son’s face. “Jesus, Grady,” he said, stepping forward and reaching for his son’s crooked tie. “What’ve you been doing? You’re a complete mess.”

  He straightened the knot and started to smooth out Grady’s unruly hair before he realized his son was coughing into his hand and turning tomato red. Pausing, Tucker frowned in confusion until Grady lifted his head, letting his dad see the glow of contentment in his eyes.

  Dropping his fingers, Tucker took a shocked step back. Then he shook his head and laughed. “I guess this means your marriage is going well.”

  Grady grinned as they shared a knowing look. With a nod, his son answered, “Can’t complain.”

  Tucker chuckled again and grabbed Grady’s shoulder, feeling a blast a relief. “Shit,” he murmured and turned his son toward the meeting room. “Go give your presentation already.”

  As Grady tucked his file under his arm and hurried to comply, his father stood there a moment, staring after him. An emotion of immense pressure slipped off his chest and loosened the knot that had been there for two and a half long years.

  Running his hand over his face, he made sure there weren’t any tears in his eyes. But, God. He’d waited so long to see his boy happy again.

  ****

  A Rawlings Oil company truck sat parked at the Gilmore hangar when B.J. landed her plane for lunch. She taxied to a stop near the entrance of the opened double doors and killed the engine. Rudy had agreed to go up with her today to take some aerial pictures but once again hadn’t shown on time. So she’d gritted her teeth and dragged Leroy along. But her older brother had actually been halfway decent for once in his life. They’d gotten six farms photographed, and he hadn’t made one rude comment about her marrying a Rawlings.

  But all her morning’s work was instantly forgotten as she stared at the parked truck.

  Grady.

  “Horny bastard,” she muttered even as her heart sang at the thought of him coming to visit her at work. “Hey, Leroy,” she called over her shoulder as she unstrapped her safety harness. “Can you get the equipment? I’ve got company.”

  “I guess,” came the reluctant grumble. “But you owe me.”

  “Thanks.”

  Grinning, she popped from the plane and nearly sprinted down the tarmac. But as soon as she entered the hangar, she slowed to a stop. The smile dropped off her face as she stared at the man who was chatting with Pop. It wasn’t Grady at all, but his father.

  Tucker glanced over when he heard her enter. Instantly, he straightened from where he’d had his foot propped on a bench. Turning to face her fully, he gave a brief and solemn nod.

  Not realizing she was holding her breath, B.J. returned the silent greeting. Her steps were much slower as she approached.

  “B.J.,” he said.

  She didn’t answer.

  “Got a minute?” he asked.

  She nodded, cleared her throat, and pointed to the closed door of the office. “We can talk in there,” she said, irritated with herself for letting her voice go hoarse.

  Tucker stepped back to let her lead the way. He was just like Grady, she realized, letting the lady go first. Her heart clenched in misery.

  Grady.

  She opened the door and started to enter, but immediately realized someone—probably Pop—had just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Slamming a palm over her mouth, she backed out of the doorway and spun toward Grady’s dad.

  “We can talk out here,” she amended.

  He grinned at the humor in the situation, but politely asked, “Want to go outside to get some fresh air?”

  She didn’t answer immediately, still fighting back the nausea. Then she closed her eyes, blew out a breath and shook her head. “No. I’m good.” Straightening, she faced him head-on. “Look, I don’t know what you want now, but I’m not making any more deals. You can just keep the goddamn plane. Okay? I can’t—”

  “B.J.,” he broke in. His smile faltered, and he shifted uncomfortably. “No. I, uh. . .to be honest, I’m here to apologize for all that.”

  B.J. nearly passed out at his feet. Striving to hold in her shock, she managed a casual shrug. “Well. . .don’t worry about it. No harm done.”

  “No,” he said. “There was harm done. I offended you and. . .” He paused and shook his head, looking ashamed. “I get a little overprotective and irrational when it comes to my children. I—”

  “Mr. Rawlings, you have every right to worry about Grady. I don’t blame you at all for anything. In fact, I probably would’ve thought less of you if you hadn’t done anything. I—”

  “B.J.,” he said, stopping her again with his soft voice, shocking her into silence as he took both her hands into both of his. “I was wrong,” he murmured, looking into her eyes with a penetrating blue stare so like his son’s that she could only gape back, holding her breath.

  “You’re not some scheming gold-digger. You’re not out to hurt or cheat anyone. You’re just a woman who’s in love with a man.”

  She sucked in a surprised breath. Wow, it felt extremely uncomfortable to hear anyone actually say that aloud. She sent Grady’s dad a leery look. “You’re not going to tell him that, are you?”

  Tucker sputtered out a surprised laugh. After a moment, though, he squeezed her fingers reassuringly. “I’ll leave that detail to you.”

  Her shoulders deflated, and she nearly fainted once again.

  “Oh! Before I forget. Here. This is for you.” Tucker yanked an all-too-familiar-looking document from his back pocket and tried to hand it to her.

  B.J. backed away from the deed as if it had lice. Then she lifted her eyes. “I can’t take anything for marrying Grady.”

  Lips parting in dawning realization, Tucker glanced down at his hand and then tried to shove it at her again. “Well, look at it as a wedding present then.”

  She shook her head. “I can’t take it,” she whispered.

  Tucker looked distinctly uncomfortable as he continued to hold out his hand. “B.J., honestly. I don’t want your plane.”

  He glanced in horror at her Cessna, and B.J. finally grinned. “I’ll tell you what,” she relented. “How about I make the same payments to you I was making to the bank and buy it back?”

  “That would work,” he said, his shoulders sagging as tension eased out of them. “That would work just fine.”

  “And about the prenuptial agreement,” B.J. started. “I don’t mind letting Grady have everything that’s already his. But the baby—”

  “I’ll have a new agreement worked up by the end of the week,” Tucker said.

  This time it was B.J. who was relieved. “Thank you,” she said.

  He nodded. Thinking that was all the business they had to discuss, B.J. shifted when Grady’s dad merely stared at her a moment longer.

  “I, uh, came to give you something else too,” he finally said. She frowned just as he added, “This,” and enfolded her into a huge hug. Too bowled over to resist the fatherly embrace, she just stood there like an idiot with her arms hanging down limply at her sides.

  “Thank you,” he said into her hair, “thank you so much for bringing my boy back.”

  Confused, she pulled away and looked up at him.

  He smiled, his eyes damp with emotion. “I never thought we’d see the old Grady again. He was so lost. But when he came into work this morning. . .”

  For a second he looked too choked to speak. Then he broke int
o another brilliant grin. “He was smiling. You made him smile.”

  Emotions engulfing her, B.J. covered her mouth with her hands and burst into tears.

  Chapter Nineteen

  B.J. didn’t want to blame it on Tucker’s visit, but after he left, something inside her shifted. After locking herself in the bathroom until she’d stopped bawling and the red blotchiness left her face, she emerged a different woman entirely, humming as she returned to her plane.

  Leroy paused to send her a strange look.

  “What?” she asked as she moved by.

  “You okay?” he asked, wrinkling his face and sending her the strangest expression.

  She frowned. “Sure. Why?”

  He shrugged. “Don’t know. You’re just acting awfully. . .girly all of the sudden.”

  B.J. rolled her eyes and turned away. “Well, thank God I’m a girl then.”

  She knew he continued to watch her, but she kept ignoring him. After a moment, he said, “Them pregnancy hormones are really messing with you, ain’t they?”

  When she glanced his way, he actually looked concerned, like there might really be something medically wrong with his sister.

  “Shut up,” she muttered and flipped him the bird.

  His face cleared, and his shoulders slumped in relief, but he sent his own dirty hand-signal back in return. Then he turned and strode off. She could’ve sworn she heard him say, “Thank God,” as he walked away.

  B.J. stared after him for a moment, absolutely stunned. Her butt-headed brother had actually been worried about her. The sudden softness she felt for him shocked her even more.

  Hell, maybe there was something wrong with her. If there was, she knew exactly what the source was. One Grady Jace Rawlings. If she’d acted a little too feminine today, it was purely his fault. The guy made her emotions go haywire.

  She was in love with him, and that scared the piss out of her. Suddenly, she wanted to make this marriage thing work. . .not just work. She wanted to make it succeed. She wanted it to be permanent, and she wanted to be as important to him as. . .well, hell, as important as Amy had been.