by Francis Ray
Maureen’s mouth gaped. A driver stood by the back door of a black stretch limousine. She thought “car” meant his brother’s personal car.
“I got it, thanks,” Simon told the driver and opened the back door.
She was trapped. Swallowing her mounting fear, she climbed inside. Several other people were already there. All of them had their eyes trained on her.
Rafael patted the seat beside him. “Sit here so I can tell you stories about Simon that might change your way of thinking about him.”
“Ha, ha.” Simon closed the door and sat next to the door, putting Maureen between himself and Rafael. “Maureen, I’d like for you to meet my family. John and his wife, Helen. My younger brother, Alec.” Simon grinned. “You already met the baby of the family, Rafael.”
Rafael’s eyes narrowed. “I’ll get you for that.”
“Behave, both of you, or you’ll have Maureen think Mama didn’t raise us right,” John said.
Despite her nervousness, a smile tugged at Maureen’s mouth. “I can tell you’re a close family.”
“That’s good to know.” His oldest brother looked at his petite wife beside him. “Mama might be gone, but Helen will have our heads if we act up.”
“They forget that people aren’t as fortunate as they are. It’s nice meeting you,” Helen said. “We’ve heard a lot about you.”
Had he mentioned how much older I am? “He’s talked about all of you as well,” Maureen said, gauging that Simon’s oldest brother and his wife were probably around her age. This couldn’t get any worse.
“Simon is usually the quiet one,” Alec said. He was as handsome as the other brothers, with dark, piercing eyes and a sensual mouth. “After meeting you, I can see why.”
Maureen didn’t know what to say. Was he kidding with her?
Simon curved his arm around her. “He’s almost as bad as Rafael. You can save your breath, Alec.”
Alec winked at her. “You can’t blame a guy for trying.”
“Yes, I can.” Simon scooted over and pulled Maureen closer. “That goes for you, too, Rafael.”
John smiled. “Forgive my brothers’ poor manners. They haven’t gotten over the days they used to fight over toys and whose turn it was to drive the car. I didn’t let them meet Helen until we were engaged.”
“Sneaky,” Alec said and smiled at Helen. “But smart.”
“All the Dunlap men have good taste,” Rafael said just as the car pulled to the curb and stopped. “Even slow Simon. Maureen, save a dance for me.”
“Not a chance.” Opening the door, Simon helped Maureen out. “She’s strictly with me.”
Maureen couldn’t find her voice until they were several feet away. “My age didn’t bother them.”
“They’re looking at what matters. Your heart,” he said. “I have to sit with the wedding party, but as soon as I can, I’m coming for you.”
“I’ll be waiting,” she promised, her fears fading away. Simon was right. What was in their hearts mattered and she was desperately in love with him.
Traci hummed along with the radio on the way home from work Monday afternoon. She was happier than she could ever remember. Elisa remained at large, but Traci seldom thought of the other woman. She owed it all to Ryan. He made each day so much better.
And you love him.
“No,” Traci said aloud as if that would make it so. They were great, make that incredible, in bed together. They had just as much fun going out or staying in. As long as they were together, it didn’t matter to either of them where they were or what they did. They could differ on subjects, but they still respected the other’s point of view. Just seeing him made her heart race.
Stopping at a signal light, Traci closed her eyes and banged her head against the headrest. What had she done? Falling in love was dangerous. One person always loved more than the other. She made her living by that irrefutable fact.
Opening her eyes, she blew out a frustrated breath and continued through the green light. At least, if she had to be foolish and fall in love, it was with a man she admired. But it would be suicidal to let him know.
She saw the black Titan when she turned onto her street. Panic hit her. She gunned the car. From two houses down, she saw him, head bowed, sitting on the front porch. She parked behind the truck in a screech of brakes and raced to him.
“Granddaddy, are you all right?”
Ezekiel Hightower lifted his gray head when she turned into the driveway. By the time she was out of the car he was halfway to her. He carried his seventy-five years well. His shoulders were as straight and proud as they’d been thirty-three years ago when Traci’s mother dropped her off for a “visit” and never picked her up.
“Better now that I’m seeing you, Scamp.” His arms went around her, holding her close.
“It’s Mother, isn’t it?” Traci asked.
He set her away from him and stared down into her face, his own troubled. “I can’t understand why she can’t ever be satisfied.”
“Let me get my key out of the car. We’ll talk in the house.” Traci quickly retrieved her purse and attaché case. “Why didn’t you call the office on your cell?”
From the shady part of the porch he picked up a bushel basket filled with vegetables. “I forgot how to turn it on. I figured you’d be home sooner or later.”
Her grandfather had to be the most patient man in the world. He had to be to stay married to her shrewish grandmother. Then he’d had a mean-spirited daughter like her mother. “How long have you been here?” she asked once they were inside.
“Doesn’t matter.” He glanced around the foyer. “This house seems bigger every time I come.”
Traci admitted to herself that she’d purchased the house to make a statement that she’d made it. It had been lonely at times, until she’d befriended Maureen, the Invincibles, and then Ryan. “It takes a bit of getting used to.”
“I’ll bet.” He followed her down the hall. “You could fit four of my houses in here with room to spare.”
“Probably, but the size didn’t matter to me.” She placed her things on the island and turned to him. “What mattered was the love you always gave me.”
He nodded. “That went both ways. You make me proud.”
He’d always said that to her. His belief had sustained her. “Now, stop stalling and tell me how long you’ve been waiting.”
He placed the basket on the counter by the stainless double sink. “I guess since around noon.”
“What! Granddaddy, the high today was eighty degrees!”
“I worked in the fields without food or water when it was a hundred degrees,” he reminded her.
Her grandmother “forgot” to bring his food and once he’d started plowing he hadn’t liked to stop. He had been much younger then, and fussing wouldn’t do any good. “Before you leave, you’re going to know how to use the cell phone.” She washed her hands at the sink, then went to the refrigerator. “Dinner should be ready shortly, and you can eat.”
“Smells good.” He peeked into the Crock-Pot. “Pot roast. We can make a salad with the cucumber, lettuce, and tomatoes I brought.”
Traci handed him a glass of water and their favorite soft drink. “Drink the water first, then you can tell me what Mother is up to now.” Traci waited until he had drunk half a glass of water before she began emptying the basket of vegetables into the sink.
“I wish I didn’t have to tell you this.” He set both glasses on the counter and stared straight ahead. “I considered just driving, seeing the country like I always wanted.” He looked down at Traci. “But I didn’t want you to worry. I figured, together, we’re a good match against Vera.”
Panic hit her. The four-hour drive from Macon was bad enough. To think of him driving aimlessly tore at her heart and heated her simmering anger. “Granddaddy, what is it?”
He blew out a breath. “She wants me declared incompetent so she can sell the property that has been in our family for four generations.”
Traci kept it together because she knew how much it hurt him to say that. He’d worked all his life in all kinds of weather, just as his father and his father before him had to make sure their families had what they needed. He took pride that his family owned twenty-seven acres, that he could leave a legacy.
“She’s reached a new low,” Traci spat, no longer able to contain her anger. “She can’t get away with that.”
“I’d like to think that shyster husband of hers put her up to it since all of his get-rich schemes have ended with them sinking further and further into debt, but she didn’t have to listen.”
“Her husband can talk her into anything.” Including abandoning her young daughter. Traci picked up a cucumber to slice, taking her anger out on it. “How bad is it?”
“Pretty bad,” her grandfather told her. “They’re in danger of losing their house. I hear they’re hiding their car at night to keep it from being repossessed. I’m their ticket. They both know you won’t give them a cent.”
Traci’s hand tightened on the knife handle. “I can’t believe she had the gall to ask me for money after she happened to see Dante’s obit … when she’d ignored me all my life.”
Ezekiel placed a calloused hand on her shoulder. “Her loss.”
Her hand relaxed. “My good fortune. I got you.”
“We got each other.”
The doorbell rang. “Expecting company?” he asked.
She blushed. “Yes. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Her grandfather followed her to the kitchen door. “Would he be the reason you sound different, happier lately?”
Stopping, she looked back at him, a frown marring her forehead. “How do you know it’s a man?”
“I know. Now go answer the door,” he said as the door chimed again. “He sounds anxious.”
Recalling why she never played cards with him, she went to the door. “Hi, Ryan.”
He stepped inside the foyer, his sharp gaze roaming over her and then beyond. “Are you all right?”
“Yes. My grandfather is visiting. I won’t be able to go to the movies,” she said.
“We’ll go another day.” His hand brushed down the side of her face, sending delicious shivers through her. “Am I still invited to dinner?”
Traci bit her lip. “He figured out you’re the reason I sound different, happier. He never liked Dante,” she confessed, finding it easier and easier to talk to Ryan about her marriage.
“Shows he’s smart.” Ryan took her elbow and started for the kitchen. “I promise not to throw you on the floor in front of him.”
She playfully swatted him on the shoulder. Both were laughing when they entered the kitchen. Traci’s laughter died as her grandfather’s frank gaze sized Ryan up. “Ryan, this is my grandfather, Ezekiel Hightower. Granddaddy, Ryan Gilmore. You’ve met his mother, Maureen Gilmore.”
“Good evening, Mr. Hightower.” Ryan extended his hand.
“Evening.” The handshake was firm. “I like your mother.”
Ryan’s mouth twitched. “I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that you like her son as well.”
“I’ll set the table,” Traci said. “Granddaddy has been outside waiting for me since noon.”
All playfulness left Ryan. “Do you feel all right, sir?”
“I’m fine. Traci, if you were going someplace, I can take care of myself.” He took the plate in her hand from her.
“Nothing that can’t be changed. We planned to eat before we left in any case.” Taking the plate back, she put it on the table with the others.
Ryan opened a drawer and took out the flatware. “I hope you don’t mind that I didn’t leave. Traci’s a great cook.”
“Looks like you’ve been here a time or two,” her grandfather said, continuing to watch Ryan closely.
Ryan met the searching gaze head on. “Yes, sir. I’m proud to say I have. Traci is a cautious woman. Took me months to get her to go out with me.”
“A woman can’t be too careful these days,” he said.
“I agree.” Ryan finished the last place setting.
“Granddaddy, please sit down.” Traci placed his unfinished soft drink on the table.
Ezekiel took the middle seat, separating Traci and Ryan at the round table for four. “What do you do for a living?” He reached for his soft drink.
Traci rolled her eyes and set the salad on the table. Her grandfather didn’t plan for her to be snowed by the wrong man again. “Oh, Granddaddy.”
“I’m a doctor. OB-GYN.” Ryan held out Traci’s chair for her, then took his seat across from her.
Traci bowed her head and said grace. “Ryan also volunteers at a clinic for unwed teenage mothers.”
“Is that so?” her grandfather said, with obvious interest.
Ryan picked up his fork. “Traci is helping the clinic put on a fund-raiser to purchase supplies and possibly give scholarships to patients who want to go to college or learn a trade. It’s important that they can take care of themselves and their babies.”
“In my day, if that would have happened, a man would have been looking down the business end of a shotgun.” Ezekiel picked up his fork, his gaze locked on Ryan.
“Sometimes things change, and not for the better.” Ryan forked in a bite of pot roast. “Traci tells me you have a farm outside Macon.”
“I don’t farm much except for my vegetable garden.” He plucked a roll from the bread basket. “Brought some with me. Nothing tastes better than homegrown vegetables.”
“I agree.” Ryan put a generous amount of salad on his plate. “My mother’s parents always had a garden. I’d eat tomatoes right off the vine. I didn’t care that the juice ran down my chin.”
“Done that myself,” Granddaddy Hightower mused. “Traci and me have cracked a few watermelons and ate them right then and there.”
“I remember,” Traci said, biting into her salad. “This takes me back.”
“I’ll say.” Ryan forked in another bite. “Mr. Hightower, I’m doubly glad you didn’t object to me staying for dinner. I agree, nothing tastes as good as fresh garden vegetables.”
“There’s black-eyed peas, okra, and snap beans,” Ezekiel said.
Traci smiled at her grandfather, thanking him without words. He was willing to get to know Ryan better. Five minutes after meeting Dante, her grandfather had taken her aside and begged her to call off her wedding. To her lasting regret, she hadn’t listened.
Ryan looked at Traci. “I hope you’ll invite me over.”
“There’s a definite possibility,” she teased.
“Ryan, do you play checkers?” Ezekiel asked.
It wasn’t lost on Traci or from the pleased look on Ryan’s face that her grandfather had called him by his name for the first time. “Not since I was a kid,” Ryan answered.
“After dinner, why don’t we see how much you remember,” he said. “Traci is the worst player in the world.”
“Gee, thanks, Granddaddy,” she said.
“Ain’t no harm in not being good at everything,” he said. “You’re good at what counts, and I couldn’t ask for a better granddaughter.”
Traci blinked. “All because of you.”
“Well.” Ezekiel cleared his throat and came to his feet. “If you’ll give me your key, I’ll put your car and my truck in the garage and grab my suitcase.”
“I’ll get it.” Traci stood. “We can have dessert when you get back.”
“You need any help, Mr. Hightower?” Ryan came to his feet as well.
“No, but Traci might with the dishes,” he said, taking the key Traci gave him.
Her lips twitched. “Still hate washing dishes, I see.”
“Yep.” He left the room.
Ryan caught Traci by the waist, bringing her flush against him. “I think he’s warming to me.”
“You think?” Smiling, she placed her hands on his wide chest, felt the muscled hardness.
“Yes, and I think something else. I’d better g
et my kiss before he comes back.”
“You read my mind.” Lifting herself on her tiptoes, she pressed her mouth against his.
Ryan hadn’t won a single game.
He would be disgusted with his poor showing if Traci’s grandfather wasn’t enjoying trouncing him so much. One game had lasted less than a minute.
“No matter how long you look at the board, Ryan, I still got you,” Ezekiel said with relish.
“Granddaddy, it’s not polite to gloat,” Traci admonished from her position on the arm of her grandfather’s easy chair in the great room.
“I’m just stating facts,” Ezekiel said with all the innocence of a baby.
Ryan wasn’t fooled and, from the indulgent expression on Traci’s face, neither was she. “I’m thinking.”
Folding his arms, Ezekiel leaned back in his chair. “Putting off the inevitable just makes it worse.” He picked up his dessert plate. “I’ll just go get another slice of pound cake. Winning gives a man an appetite. Anyone else want any?”
“No, thanks,” Ryan mumbled, looking at his single black checker surrounded by four crowned checkers of Ezekiel’s.
“No, thank you,” Traci said.
“More for me.” Chuckling, he strolled off.
“You might have warned me he was such a great player,” Ryan said.
“I might have, but I wanted you two to get to know each other better.” Traci went to him and hunkered down. Her fingers walked up his thigh. “I’ll make it up to you tomorrow night.”
Ryan’s body stirred. He was grateful his lower half was hidden by the game table. “I’ll hold you to that.”
“You do that.” Standing, she moved back to her perch on the arm of the other chair.
Ryan eyed her rounded buttocks, her shapely legs, and tried not to recall his hands on her hips, her legs locked around his waist. He lost before his next breath. He twisted in his seat. Down, boy.
“You move yet?” Ezekiel asked as soon as he entered the great room.
“About to.” Ryan reached for his single checker just as the doorbell rang. He tensed, his troubled gaze going to Traci. Without words, he knew they both were thinking of Elisa.
