by Jeannie Watt
She stopped dead, turned back. “You don’t know what I care about. What I don’t.”
“Maybe I’d like to know more.” He sounded serious, which only made her feel more panicked.
She gave a loud snort. “That is not going to happen.”
And this was the last time she was going to let her hormones overrule her head. She had the answer to her question. He was an amazing kisser. Information stored away, no need to repeat.
She stomped down off the bleachers, continued the walk of shame to her trailer then decided, screw it. The sooner she faced things, meaning the interested bystanders, the better. She took a couple of cleansing breaths, then headed over to the group of parents, pasting a smile of sorts on her face, doing her best to ignore the fact that her lips felt swollen.
“Hi, Frank. Gloria.” The owners of an insurance business, who’d graduated high school with her. She didn’t know the other parents that well, but had a feeling that Frank and Gloria had filled them in on her history with Grady. “Are your kids enjoying lessons?”
“I’m now being hounded night and day to buy a horse.” Frank gave his wife a small nudge. “We’re so glad we signed them up, right, honey?”
“Lessons and horses have been the topic of conversation for the past week,” Gloria agreed. “Tiffani says you give private lessons.” She smiled at Lex in a way that was half amused and half congratulatory.
Lex lifted her chin. “Annie Owens works for me, so I gave one of her twins extra help this week.” It was now difficult to tell the sisters apart by posture, and despite being totally irritated at the situation, Lex felt a small upwelling of pride. “It was a favor to Annie, not official lessons.”
Gloria glanced over at Grady sitting alone in the stands. “So your lessons aren’t going to...continue?”
The other parents smiled at the innuendo, and Lex felt herself start to slide into defense mode. She’d had enough double-talk and was about to set the record straight in no uncertain terms when she realized that would be really hard to do when Grady had just kissed her in the stands. Leave it be. Walk away. That would be the sensible thing, but she couldn’t help addressing the topic directly. “Are you talking about me and Grady or me and the twins?” she asked in a conversation-stopping voice.
“You and Grady,” Gloria said, totally unabashed. “I think you’re cute together.”
Lex blinked at her. What was she supposed to say to that?
“Fireworks make for an interesting relationship,” Frank added. The woman standing next to him nodded her agreement.
Lex simply stared at the small group of parents as she realized that Grady had been 100 percent correct when he predicted that there was no such thing as damage control in this situation.
“Glad you think so,” she finally said to no one in particular. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to shovel out my horse trailer.”
* * *
GRADY WAS OF the opinion that he needed to come up with a way to kiss Lex again under better circumstances. If a ten-second kiss was that good, what would it be like if they had, say, thirty seconds...or a couple of minutes...or the entire night?
Probably not something he should dwell on as he drove his nieces home, but it was hard not to.
He didn’t think Lex was immune to him. Not when she kissed him back as she had tonight. What she was, was overly self-protective. And maybe torn, because while she purported to dislike and disapprove of him, she’d also started a rumor about them—a rumor that he wouldn’t mind turning into reality.
But if they did make it reality, Lex’s heart had to be in it. She couldn’t be doing it to make a point or win a battle or something. That would be wrong...and he didn’t think Lex was the kind to sleep with him for those reasons. She was too honest. With him, anyway. Sometimes he wondered how honest she was with herself. Whatever, the situation left Grady teetering on the edge of frustration...but it also kept the summer interesting.
When they got to the house, the girls dove into their reading. They had until Monday to read the last book of the required twenty that were necessary to receive reading awards from the mayor and partake in the ice cream party and pool party that followed. Annie told him that the contest had become quite a big deal in the town, and because of the grant money received, they were able to give bigger and better prizes each year. This year the names of all the kids who qualified would go into a draw for a bicycle.
What impressed Grady most, though, was that the contest was on the honor system and the girls never once considered skimming a book. Instead they were scrupulously honest, reading every word of every book, before asking him or Annie to sign the paper where they’d recorded title and author.
“I love how earnest they are,” he said after Katie had carefully placed her signature paper in a plastic folder before heading back to the bedroom where Kristen was still reading.
“I know. Too bad people can’t hang on to that.” Annie refolded the afghan that lay over the arm of a recliner that had seen better days, then took a seat.
“I think we do hang on to it,” Grady said as he picked up the television remote more out of habit than anything, “but it gets buried under all the other baggage we stack on top of it. We lose sight of it.”
Annie shot him a look. And then she kept looking at him.
“What?”
“That was insightful.”
“Why does that surprise you?” He wondered if he should be amused or insulted. He started clicking through the muted television channels.
“Because you put on that cocky bull rider act most of the time.”
He paused on a sports channel, not bothering to look up as he said, “It’s not an act. I’m that good.”
“You’re full of—”
“Hey, Mom?” Kristen came into the room, holding two dresses on hangers, one pale yellow and the other a turquoise and brown polka-dot print.
“You were saying?” Grady asked innocently.
“I think you can fill in the blank.” Annie turned to her daughter, and they conferred on which dress was more mayor worthy. Grady noted that she picked the one that would be least likely to show chocolate syrup later—something he wouldn’t have noticed a mere two months ago.
Annie settled back in her chair, watching the silent television as Grady continued to flip channels. If he found something worthwhile, he’d turn on the sound. “Quite the rumor going around town about you and Lex.”
Grady’s finger stuttered on the remote. Boom, out with the big guns. “The one Tiffani is spreading?” he asked blandly.
Annie shook her head. “No. I was there when that happened. This one involves the grandstands at the riding lessons.” She sent him a look of mock concern. “Do you really think you should be making out in the stands while my daughters are present?”
“They weren’t looking.”
“Everyone else was.”
Exactly what Lex had said. And she’d been right. And he didn’t regret kissing her one bit.
Grady propped one foot up on the worn ottoman. There really was no fighting this. Not as long as he and Lex continued to spar—and kiss—in public. “You want to hear a secret, Annie?”
“I’m all about secrets.”
“I like Lex.” Her eyebrows slowly lifted at his casual confession. He rather enjoyed that, even though the frustration caused by the Lex situation was once again taking hold. “I can’t say that the feeling is mutual, or that anything will come of it, but...I like her.” He spoke with simple sincerity because that was the way things were.
Annie gave a considering nod as she casually twisted the fringe on the afghan through her fingers. “So that’s why you keep kissing her. Now it all makes sense.”
“She kissed me first,” he pointed out.
“To make a point. Right. I forgot.”<
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Grady smiled at the irony in his sister’s voice, even though he no longer felt like smiling. The conversation drove home the point that he had a problem. This was no longer about winning or losing some battle of wills or saving face or anything like that. It was about being attracted to a woman who could erect a barrier faster than most people could sneeze—which was why it was possible nothing would come of the fact that he found himself more and more drawn to her.
Despite that, he felt a deep need to test the waters.
The big question was how.
* * *
“WELL, YOU DID tell Tiffani you were sleeping together,” Danielle said as she and Lex flipped through racks of bridesmaid dresses. Great-granny hadn’t made the trip and Danielle’s mother and grandmother were one rack over, so they could finally talk. Lex wouldn’t have talked at all if Danielle hadn’t gotten wind of the story just before they left for Bozeman that morning and asked if it was true. That had opened the floodgates of Lex’s frustration at being part of a public spectacle. It would have been one thing if there really was something between them, but there wasn’t.
“I was making a point to her,” Lex said from between her teeth. They’d been conversing in snatches for the past hour whenever they managed to get away from the older Perry women. “To make her realize she was sticking her nose where it didn’t belong.”
“Didn’t seem to work.”
“Tell me about it.”
Danielle turned to Lex, still holding the skirt of a pale yellow dress, even though her dresses were supposed to be pink. “What do you have against Grady?”
“Oh, let’s see. Maybe the fact that he chose rodeo over you?” How could Lex not hold that against him? He’d seriously talked marriage with a woman who couldn’t handle his career. He shouldn’t have done that—not when he hadn’t been willing to give up the career.
“Let me clarify. What do you have against him?”
Lex had no answer for that, so she pulled a rose pink minidress off the rack and held it out, more to look busy than because she thought it was a possibility.
“No!” Danielle’s mother called from across the store, and Lex instantly put it back.
“In case you didn’t know,” she said without looking at Danielle, “track records matter.”
“People change.”
Lex gave her head a shake, as if trying to clear it. “What are you saying?”
“People. Change.”
“No. Are you saying that I should have something to...do...with Grady?”
“He has his good points.”
“Along with a few character flaws.”
“Who doesn’t? All I’m saying is don’t dislike him just because you think you should. Because of me.”
“He didn’t do his sister any favors by never coming home.”
“He’s home now.”
Lex pulled in a breath. “Please don’t tell me again that people change.” Fortunately Danielle couldn’t have if she’d wanted to, because her grandmother had given an excited shout from nearby and then proudly displayed the perfect bridesmaid dress...if one were a sugarplum fairy.
Lex left Danielle to tactfully deal with the tulle and satin dilemma and concentrated on putting their conversation out of her head. She had reasons for her feelings about Grady, and no one was going to talk her out of them. Just as she hadn’t allowed people to talk her out of being friends with some of the less-than-cool kids in high school. Lex followed her heart and her head. Only her hormones seemed to get her into trouble, so they were out of the equation.
After Danielle had explained to her grandmother that she was looking for something a little sleeker and got the sparkly puffy dress safely back on the rack, the team broke for lunch.
“Next we’ll go to Carson’s Wedding Boutique,” Mrs. Perry announced happily. “That’ll be the most likely place to find the perfect dress for Danielle.”
At least all of Danielle’s relatives had gotten over the disappointment of her not choosing a family dress to restyle, and all were now focused on the hunt for the perfect wedding dress with which to torture some future granddaughter.
Twenty minutes later, Lex was idly perusing the display racks while Danielle changed into her first choice and her mother and grandmother waited, seated in white leather chairs with glasses of sparkling water in their hands. Lex couldn’t make herself sit still.
This situation with Grady was bugging the heck out of her. How had everyone gotten the idea that they were an item? A couple of kisses? Who didn’t kiss a casual date good night? Did that make them a couple?
“Try this.”
Lex turned to find an associate standing behind her, holding a draped column of a dress with no embellishments other than a few artfully crafted fabric roses on one side of the neckline. She swept it through the air to hold it up to Lex before she could utter a word of protest. The silk charmeuse whispered over her skin and she could see that the skirt was deceptively full, even though it was cut to cling to the hips.
“Very 1930s,” the woman explained. “Perfect for your figure.”
“I’m not the bride,” Lex said.
“Oh.” The dress drooped a little; then the woman lifted the hanger again. “You will be, and when you are, you need to remember this dress. Perfect, perfect, perfect.”
“Thank you,” Lex said, and then she was saved by Danielle making her way out of the dressing room, looking stunning in a simple satin gown.
“You’re both lucky women,” the associate murmured. “You don’t need a lot of glitter and glitz, because you have presence.”
“Thank you,” Lex murmured again, thinking that the woman was good. Because at that moment, thanks to her, she did feel as if she had presence, and there was no question that Danielle had it. It felt odd being placed in the same category as her friend, who was a bona fide knockout.
“This dress is perfect,” Danielle said, turning in front of the mirror as the associate pinched the fabric here and there, showing where it could be altered.
Perfect dress or not, she tried on seven more at her mother’s behest before they decided that the first one was indeed the one. By the time the alteration card had been filled out, Lex would have loved a pitcher of beer, but instead she made do with a small glass of red wine at the victory dinner before heading back to Gavin.
“You know,” Lex said after dropping off Danielle’s mother and grandmother, “I don’t think this dress will be all that bad if your daughter wanted to wear it.”
“We say that now,” Danielle said with a wide smile. The smile faltered a little and she said, “About our earlier conversation... Grady and such...” Lex sucked in a fortifying breath, but all her friend said was, “...We won’t talk about that again. I can see that it isn’t your favorite topic.”
That was why Danielle was her best friend. She let her off the hook when she really needed to get off the hook. Right now she didn’t even want to think about Grady Owen. She simply wanted to get on with her life, such as it was.
Lex got home to find a message on her landline message machine and, curious about whom on earth would be calling the landline, pushed the play button.
“Hi, Alexa. This is Pete. I couldn’t help noticing that you had a lot of animals at your place and wondered if you might be able to foster a flock of ducks as a favor to me. Call me if you haven’t already hung up. Thanks.” Lex smiled to herself as she jotted down his number and then called him back.
“Why do you need a foster home for ducks?”
“It’s a long story, but my grandmother recently sold her house and is moving. There will be a two-month period in which she will have no home, so she’s going to Minnesota to stay with her sister.”
“Okay...”
“The ducks are a special breed. Exotic something or others.�
�
“Something or others?”
“Waterfowl aren’t my thing,” he confessed. “They come with a pool and a pen and everything.”
“How many?”
“Six.”
“What if something happens to them?”
“It’s on me...so if you think something’s going to happen to them, say no.”
“I have a cat and three dogs, but they never bothered my chickens when I had them, so... I guess.”
“Thank you, Alexa. I’ll be in touch.”
“You’re welcome.”
She hung up without saying, “How hard could duck-sitting be?” because she’d learned the hard way that nothing ruined a day like taunting the cosmos. And one thing about the ducks—they took her mind off Grady for almost a minute or two.
Chapter Nine
The day of the Dedicated Reader Awards and ice cream pig-out dawned sunny and clear. Annie laid out a battle plan. Grady would bring the girls to Jaycee Park, arriving early so that Annie could make certain they still looked presentable. She’d save him a seat in the parents’ section. After the fun was over, he’d take the girls home and quite possibly make prodigious use of the stain removal prewash spray.
“Okay, so the girls are ready to go. All you have to do is to get them to the park by eleven. Danielle and I will walk over from work.”
Annie was repeating herself, so Grady got the idea that this reading awards ceremony was important to her. As it should be. The girls had read a goodly number of books to qualify for the honor.
“Who’ll mind the store?” he said.
Annie smiled. “We’re putting up a bee-back-soon sign. Danielle wants to see the girls get their dedicated reader awards, too.”
“What about Lex?” Not that he was thinking about her or anything.
“She has something going on this afternoon, or I’m sure she’d be at the awards, too.”
“It’s cool that this is such a big deal.”
“I know. They’ve made it so that getting the award is a real achievement.”
