by Debby Conrad
He let out a loud harrumph sound, ran a hand through his hair and stepped back. As if she had some contagious disease. “You’re just a kid.”
Hollin’s spirits sank. “I’m mature for my age,” she said defensively. “My mother and stepfather tell me that all the time.”
“Really? You think wearing tight clothes and makeup makes you mature?” He jerked his head toward the trailer. “Do you have any idea what your sister and Randy are doing in there right now, while I’m out here babysitting you?”
“Babysitting?” Hollin straightened her posture. “Of all the nerve.” She pushed a lock of hair behind her ear and glanced at the trailer. “Rachel wanted some time to talk to Randy alone.”
“He’s fucking her.”
His foul choice of words came crashing down on her like an avalanche, and even though Rachel had hinted that she and Randy had been intimate, Hollin hadn’t wanted to believe her sister would do . . . that.
Her breathing accelerated, her pulse nearly skidding out of control. “I don’t believe you.”
“Why don’t you go see for yourself,” he said, opening his arm wide in invitation.
Was he crazy? No way was she going inside there. Besides, Rachel was a big girl. She could take care of herself. Or could she?
Falling from the swing and landing on her butt was nothing in comparison to the humiliation she now felt. Her cheeks burned with intensity and she refused to look at Griffin.
Sliding from the trunk of the car, she landed on the gravel drive, but twisted her left ankle. “Ouch,” she said, righting herself.
Griffin’s hands shot out to steady her. “You okay?”
“I’m fine,” she said, shrugging from his hold. “I’m going to get my sister.”
He stepped in front of her, blocking her way. “Don’t, Hollin.”
It was the first time he’d said her name. She hadn’t even been sure that he knew it. Something inside her mellowed, and she stared up at him. “Do you think they’re really . . . doing it?”
“Yes. I do.”
She crossed her arms in front of her and shuddered. “They must be so in love.”
“You don’t have to be in love to have sex,” he said, searching her face. Digging in the pocket of his T-shirt, he pulled out a pack of cigarettes and shook one free, offering the pack to her.
She looked at it with disgust, then tossed her head from side to side. “Don’t you worry about getting lung cancer?”
“Nope. I don’t worry about a whole lot of things.” But rather than light up, he dropped the cigarette back into the pack and returned the pack to his pocket.
Relaxing somewhat, Hollin leaned against Rachel’s blue mustang and lifted her face to the sun, feeling its warmth seep into her skin. “My mom doesn’t do a very good job of taking care of us either. It’s not her fault, though,” she said, lowering her head to see his reaction. “She has Fibromyalgia.”
He shifted his weight and pushed his hands into his jeans pockets. “What’s that?”
“She suffers from muscle pain, stiffness. She’s constantly tired and weak, and doesn’t sleep well. She takes lots of medicines, but nothing seems to help.”
“Is it contagious?”
She shook her head. “No. She’s in England right now, she and my stepfather. Supposedly, there’s this doctor who John thinks might be able to help her. John is my stepfather.”
He nodded. “Must have cost a fortune.”
“I wouldn’t know. My mom didn’t want to go, but somehow John talked her into it. He’s always doing research in the hopes of finding a new treatment for her.”
The wind kicked up a notch, blowing her hair in her face, and she pushed it behind her ears. “Brad thinks this doctor is just another quack who’s trying to take their money. Brad is my stepbrother.”
“I know who Brad MacDougal is.”
“Oh, of course. He was a year behind you in school.” She silently berated herself for mentioning school again, but Griffin didn’t so much as flinch. “Anyway, I sometimes think my mother doesn’t want to get well. I think she likes all the attention.” She met his gaze, then added, “That sounds mean, doesn’t it? To talk about my own mother that way?”
“Not if it’s the truth. We can’t pick our parents. My mother was a drunk.”
“Do you ever see her?”
“Nope.”
She hesitated a moment before asking, “What about your dad?”
“Have no idea who he is. I doubt my mom does either.”
Her heart ached for him. “My father died in a car accident when I was two. I have pictures, but I don’t really remember him.”
He looked at her with sad eyes, took a step forward, and raised a hand to touch her cheek. His palm was rough, dry. Hollin tilted her head into it with a sigh of pleasure.
Lifting her gaze she saw him staring down at her. He moved his hand and traced a tiny circle around her mole. “This is so sexy,” he said, and then he bent his head and kissed it gently.
His breath was moist and warm against her face. Her heart raced, wanting him to kiss her again. But he didn’t. Instead, he lifted his head and locked his gaze with hers.
“Will you teach me how to kiss a man?” she asked, remembering his earlier accusation.
“You’re too young,” he said, but dipped his head toward hers. Their lips almost met when the door to the trailer flew open and Randy stuck his head out.
Griffin quickly moved away from her.
“Hey, you’re supposed to be watching the little twit, not taking advantage of her,” Randy yelled.
“Fuck you!” Griffin answered in return.
Randy laughed. “Rachel already did that.”
Rachel came around from behind him, punching him playfully on the shoulder and bounced down the steps.
Hollin hurtled back to earth. She stared at her sister, partly in shame, partly in envy. Rachel looked so happy it made her sick inside. But she couldn’t worry about her big sister at the moment, she had to battle her own personal restraints. She’d been so busy watching Rachel, she hadn’t realized Griffin had strolled away.
She saw him swing a leg over his motorcycle, and roar down the street without so much as a backward glance. The harder she tried to ignore the truth, the more it nagged at her. The admission finally came to her. It was beyond both reason and logic.
She was in love with Griffin Wells.
CHAPTER SEVEN
“I don’t want to go,” Hollin said. And she certainly didn’t want to go wearing the clothes Rachel had dressed her in. A denim skirt so short she wouldn’t be able to sit down without exposing her panties, and a red, fitted top so snug it showed off every bit of cleavage she had. Not that there was much cleavage to show off, but what she did have she didn’t want to share with the rest of the world.
“You have to go to the party with me.” Rachel dragged Hollin by the hand, out of her room and toward the stairs. “Josephine thinks I’m taking you to the drive-in movie with Kara and Stephanie. Sort of a be-kind-to-little-sisters evening.” Kara Cornell was Rachel’s best friend, and Stephanie was Kara’s thirteen-year-old-sister.
“If you don’t go with me, Josephine will never let me out of the house tonight.” Rachel frowned at Hollin when she dug her heels in, refusing to go any further. “I’m supposed to be grounded, remember?” she asked beseechingly. “I’m lucky she’s letting me out at all. After she found those cigarettes in the pocket of my jacket last week, she said I wasn’t allowed to leave the house until Mom gets back from England. She’s been keeping such a close watch on me lately, I feel like she’s constantly breathing down my neck.”
“If Griffin wanted me to come to his party, he would have invited me,” Hollin tried to reason.
“Oh, grow up, Hollin. That’s not how it works. Kids invite other kids to parties all the time. Nobody cares. Griffin probably didn’t invite you because he didn’t think you’d want to come.”
Hollin was busy digesting Rachel’s words
when she added, “If you like the guy, you need to flirt with him a little, let him know you care.”
“Is that what you did with Randy?” she asked, studying her sister’s face.
“It’s what I do with any guy I meet and want for my boyfriend.”
“Did you have sex with him at the trailer yesterday?”
“Who? Randy?” She sighed, looking bored. “Yes. It’s not a big deal.”
Hollin wasn’t surprised by her answer. “Did you have sex with any of your other boyfriends?”
Rachel laughed. “Am I on trial here?”
“Just answer me, or I’m not going.”
Clucking her tongue, Rachel glared at her. “I went on the pill when I turned fifteen, and lost my virginity with Matt Howell shortly thereafter.”
“Matt?” Hollin tried not to act shocked. “Were there others besides Matt and Randy?”
“I don’t remember. Let’s just go, okay?” She tugged at Hollin’s hand.
Hollin pulled her hand free. “You don’t remember? Or you don’t want to tell me?”
Rachel blinked, then looked down to adjust the chain belt on her black, leather skirt. “I don’t want to tell you.”
“How many, Rachel?”
Her sister looked up impatiently. “Five. Or maybe six. I really can’t remember.”
“Doesn’t it bother you? I thought when you made love, it was supposed to be with someone you love, someone you want to marry.”
“I did love them.”
Hollin released a lengthy breath. Poor Rachel.
“If you’re not gonna go, then I’m going to sneak out. Will you cover for me?”
“I’ll go,” Hollin said reluctantly, “but only because I love you.”
Rachel threw herself at Hollin and hugged her. “I love you, too. You’re the best sister ever.” She pulled away, looked into Hollin’s eyes. “Randy said he thinks Griffin has the hots for you.”
“Really?” she asked, draping her purse over her shoulder. “What else did he say?”
“I’ll tell you in the car. Come on. This is going to be the best night of your life.”
Rachel chatted non-stop on the way to the party, saying it would be so cool if her baby sister was dating Griffin, and how much fun they could have double dating. And for a little while, Hollin wanted to believe.
She shifted to the right as Rachel made a sharp turn into the gas station. “I need some cigarettes and gum. Do you want anything?”
“No, thanks.” She tugged at her skirt, thinking she’d better stand all evening just to be on the safe side.
A few minutes later, Rachel returned to the car carrying a bag. “I bought you something.”
Hollin grabbed the bag from her. She loved surprises. “What is it?” But she froze when she saw what was inside. A box of condoms.
“Tuck them in your purse. Just in case,” Rachel said. “You don’t want to get pregnant, do you?”
“No,” Hollin said quickly. “But--”
“Do you know how many teenage pregnancies there are each year? And there’s no excuse, with all the birth control available out there.”
“Thanks, Rachel, but I think I want to wait to have sex until I’m married.”
Rachel laughed. “So does every fifteen-year-old. And then you meet someone, fall in love and you’re not prepared. Nine months later you have some screaming kid attached to your hip. Put them in your purse.”
Hollin picked up her purse from the floor and slid the condoms inside. Maybe Rachel was right. She was already in love with Griffin. What if he kissed her again and then wanted to make love with her? Would she let him? She told herself she wouldn’t, but then she’d never expected to fall in love with someone she’d only talked to once. Okay, twice, if she counted the time at the hardware store. Maybe it wouldn’t be quite so easy to say “no.” Besides, Rachel always knew best.
By the time they arrived at the trailer it was dusk, and the party was in full swing. At least a dozen cars were parked all over the front lawn, kids sitting on top of them, drinking beer, smoking, laughing, having a good time. Music blasted from a boom box. A small camp fire was roaring near the edge of the drive, where it looked like a girl was toasting a marshmallow.
Rachel and Hollin got out of the car. Hollin thought about leaving her purse behind, then picked it up and hung it over her shoulder.
“Hey, Rachel. The keg’s on the side,” a guy Hollin didn’t recognize said, pointing in the direction of the tire swing. “Or there’s hard stuff inside the trailer.”
“I’m dying for a beer,” Rachel said, looping her arm through the guy’s arm. “Lead the way.”
Hollin stood alone, assessing the party guests. A guy and a girl were making out in one of the cars, where everyone could see. Two boys looked to be drunk already. She didn’t recognize anyone her own age, which meant she was the youngest one there. Putting on a false bravado, she marched up the steps to the trailer and walked inside.
And then she choked. Cigar smoke hung in gray pockets, making the air thick and hard to breathe. Her eyes watered and she blinked, trying to get them to focus as she continued to cough and sputter.
From the corner of her eye, she saw Griffin, dressed in a navy T-shirt and jeans. He tamped out a cigar and ordered the rest of the guys to do the same. He was sitting at the kitchen table, holding cards in his hand. In the center of the table were several bills and a pile of coins. Three other guys sat around the table, also holding cards. One was Randy Swartz.
“Somebody get the girl a drink,” she heard a male voice say. And then a glass was pushed into her hand and she downed the golden brown liquid.
And choked some more. It stung and scorched her throat raw. Whatever it was made her entire body flush as well.
“Griffin, who invited the jail bait?” a guy with spikey, two-toned hair asked.
“I sure as hell didn’t,” she heard Randy say.
His words stung more than the drink. Male laughter erupted and Hollin knew they were laughing at her. But rather than act offended or hurt, she stood, watching them as they carried on with their card game.
After a moment, Randy tossed his cards down on the table. “I’ve had enough. Besides, my woman is probably here.”
He slid his chair back, the legs making a screeching sound on the linoleum. Randy chucked Hollin on the chin as he passed her. “Hey, Gumby. You’re looking pretty hot tonight. Where’s Rachel?”
“She took off with some good-looking guy,” Hollin said, staring him in the eye.
Randy yanked the door open and flew down the steps. “Rachel! Rachel!”
Hollin shut the door behind him, glad to be rid of him.
“Hey, sweet cakes, I’m talking to you,” the guy with the spiked hair said. “Do you know how to play poker or not?”
“Me?” Hollin looked behind her to make sure he wasn’t talking to someone else.
But before she could answer, Griffin said, “She’s not staying, Kirk.”
Seeing the vacant chair, the one adjacent to Griffin’s, she quickly sat down. “I’d love to play.” They didn’t need to know she’d never played poker in her life. She’d catch on. How hard could it be? Besides, she was a quick learner.
Griffin scowled at her. “You shouldn’t be here.”
“I’m staying,” she said, lifting her chin.
“Let her stay,” Kirk said.
Griffin sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Do you have any money?”
Hollin blinked, his words barely registering.
“Money,” he repeated, glancing at the purse in her lap.
“Oh, sure. How much do I need?” She opened her purse, took out a twenty and two fives. “Is this enough?”
A guy with a blond ponytail grinned. “That’ll be just fine. For starters.”
“I have more,” she said, lifting her purse to the table.
Griffin stared down at her purse, met her gaze, then snapped it shut and hung it on the back of her chair. She realized too la
te he’d probably seen the box of condoms inside, and he didn’t look very happy about it. He also didn’t look very happy when he glanced down at her bare thighs peeking from her short skirt. “Deal,” he said between clenched teeth, setting the deck in front of her.
The smoky room grew much too warm, especially with the way he was scrutinizing her every move. “How many cards?” she asked.
“That depends,” Griffin said. “It’s up to the dealer to choose the game.”
“I thought we were playing poker.”
The guy with the ponytail snickered, took the last gulp from his glass. “I’m going home rich tonight,” he said. “Anyone care for a drink?” He stood, taking his glass to the kitchen counter.
“I’ll take one,” Hollin said, looking boldly at Griffin. She didn’t want him to think of her as a kid.
“She doesn’t need another one.”
Hollin laughed, feeling a little giddy and daring. “I’m a big girl. I think I know when I’m thirsty. Make me another of whatever I had before.”
The guy nodded. “Whiskey, straight up.”
Griffin sucked in a noisy breath and shook his head again. “There are lots of different poker games. The dealer is supposed to pick one,” he said, obviously quite annoyed with her.
Remembering some of what Rachel had said about flirting with a guy to show him she cared, Hollin batted her eyelashes and used her most syrupy voice. “Why don’t you pick one for me.”
Griffin made an impatient hissing sound. “Five card stud.”
Hollin smiled. “Good choice. How many cards should I deal?”
He gritted his teeth. “Five.”
She surprised herself, catching on quickly, but then the game changed and she had to learn a new one. This continued for several hands. She was having fun, and Griffin didn’t seem quite so angry with her once she started winning a few hands.
“I’ll see your bet and raise it by two,” Griffin said to the blond man he’d called Dave.
Everyone threw two more dollars in the pot. And then it was Hollin’s turn. “I’m not sure if I have anything good or not,” she said casually. “What do you call three of something and two of something else?” she asked innocently, flicking her lashes at not only Griffin but at Dave and Kirk as well.
