by Diane Roth
"I'm not altogether sure," Cara answered, and began digging through her purse in search of her cell phone. "They were riding from the high school with Greg, but they had to drop Maddie's friend, Bella by her house first. Maybe I'd better call to see what's going on. I expected them by now."
"Oh, here they are now," Barbara said, waving at the late arrivals coming in at Cara's back.
Seventeen-year-old Maddie sat down beside her mother and brandished a bouquet of yellow tulips under her nose. "Look what Uncle Greg brought me," she said, her eyes bright, her smile proud. "He said he couldn't tell my ankle bothered me at all."
Cara knew it to be a bit of a fudge, but wasn't about to let on. "Oh, Maddie, how pretty. I love tulips. And these are a beautiful color." She caught Greg's eye across the table where he'd sat down beside his mother and sent him a sweet thank you smile.
"She deserves them. You did a great job today, Maddie," Greg told her.
"You did do a good job, Mad," Ryan added, seating himself on the other side of his grandmother.
Cara sent him a smile, too, for supporting his big sister. They were close, thank goodness. Cara relied on them to take care of one another these days. She tipped her imaginary cap at him, a reminder to remove his ball cap in the restaurant. At age fifteen, things like that slipped his mind, but he did as she directed and ran a hand over his newly shorn head.
All the females at the table reacted to the brand new buzz job with wide eyes and a comment or two.
"Wow. That's the shortest you've ever cut it," Cara said, looking him over good and trying to decide if she liked it or not. Usually, his summer buzz made him look younger, but this year, for some reason it added age to him. Suddenly, he looked all angles and jaw and Adam's apple. Like a man. It gave her a jolt in the belly to think of him growing into a man so quickly.
"That's hot, Ry," Maddie told him.
Ryan smiled proudly. "That's what the girl who cut it said, too." He wagged his brows and leaned forward to smile conspiratorially at his uncle sitting on the other side of his grandmother.
Greg nodded. "She did. I heard her," he confirmed. "I don't know what you girls see in that. He looks like a meat head to me."
Ryan took a swat at Greg's shoulder with his ball cap behind his grandmother's back, but Greg caught his cap easily and won the battle prize after a short tug-of-war. Ryan laughed and reached for it again, but Barbara grew uneasy between the warring factions and settled them down with a hand on Ryan's arm, a piercing gaze on her own son beside her. "Chill," she said to them both.
Maddie laughed. "Nana said, 'chill'. Too cute. I have to text Bella and tell her," she said, already typing said text on her omnipresent phone.
The waitress brought Cara's wine and took orders for the others. Talk continued about Maddie's performance and Ryan's win of yesterday. Barbara took the opportunity to catch up with her grandchildren's doings.
Cara took a moment to breathe, settling her weight back in her chair and closing her eyes for a moment. It felt really good after the long, nerve-wracking day she'd spent directing the recital.
"You tired?" Greg asked her quietly.
She opened her eyes. "I am." It was a rare admission. Being a pleaser by nature, her usual response was more on a positive spin. But this was Greg. Solid as a rock, always there when she needed him, no demand Greg. It felt okay to be real.
"Recital means you're finished for summer, right?"
"Mostly. There are several girls I teach privately along with Maddie. And we hold a cheer day camp for incoming middle-schoolers in late July. But that's only one week," she said.
"One mad, loud, drama filled week, I would imagine." His expression told her he wouldn't want to be a part of that for love or money.
"Oh, for sure," she said with a laugh. "Nothing but drama with middle school cheerleaders." Something quiet and unspoken passed between them, a look of us against them, an attitude that Cara appreciated more and more every day. She sometimes felt guilty for relying on Greg so heavily for help with her kids, but he never complained, never hesitated, and often showed up at events or even her suppertime table without an invite, and was always welcome. He was her go-to guy for all sorts of issues, and she knew she was darned lucky to have him. She sent him a sweet smile and a wink, just because he was so handsome sitting there with his green eyes and dark hair, and a set of broad shoulders a girl could easily lean on.
Barbara told them all about a Single Seniors cruise she planned to take over the summer with several of her friends. "We're calling it the Golden Girls' Getaway Cruise," she with a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe I'll meet a hottie."
Maddie squealed. "O. M. G., Nana. That is hilarious!"
Ryan closed his eyes and shook his head in denial that something of that nature might even cross his grandmother's mind. Cara and Greg shared a chuckle at his expense, but Cara knew a moment of something like loneliness. Seemed like everyone had plans for the summer except her. Maddie was traveling to New York for a summer intensive dance training at The Julliard School for three weeks, and Ryan would be attending several ball camps over the course of the summer. Barbara was sailing in search of an octogenarian hottie. Cara's partner Etta was packing for Florida, and even Greg was getting away. It was Wichita and corn-fed plow boys, she reminded herself. But still.
"Hey, speaking of singles. I have a favor to ask of you," Greg said.
"What's that?" Cara knew she'd say yes before he even asked. It really didn't matter what he asked. She owed him like no other.
"I've got a black tie fundraiser for the university in a couple of weeks. I'm chair of the committee, but I have no hostess for my table. It's a big muckety-muck affair. I need someone to class me up a little. Would you consider rubbing elbows with the rich and entitled for me?"
Her summer outlook brightened a bit. "Maybe. Black tie, huh?"
He nodded. "Yeah, this is straight up stuffy. Big money."
"You could wear my prom dress, Mom," Maddie suggested. "Maybe you'd meet some rich guy."
Cara swiveled to look at her daughter, surprised by the first ever suggestion that Cara move on with her life after Jason's loss. Ryan frowned his displeasure at the thought, but Cara wasn't surprised by that at all. He was less ready to let go of his dad than any of them.
"That's a pretty dress, Maddie, but your mom should buy something new for herself," Barbara said. "When is the last time you bought something dressy and new like that?" she asked Cara.
"Oh, gosh. It's been a while. Jason and I didn't do much black tie socializing."
"Yeah, Dad did all his fun stuff like that on the road," Maddie said, drawing another curious assessment from her mother for her unusually sharp tone of voice in regards to her father. But Maddie kept her nose in her cell phone, texting incessantly, instead of meeting Cara's gaze.
"Well, regardless of what I wear, I'm happy to hostess for you," she told Greg. He smiled his thanks, but she put a hold on his expression with a stipulation. "But I have a favor to ask in return."
"What's that?"
"Our class reunion. It's the weekend of our birthday ... and I don't want to go alone. Were you planning to go?" Cara and Greg shared a birthday and usually had a family celebration to mark the day in mid-July. Last year they had skipped the party in light of Jason's recent death, but this was a big one for them both.
He looked like he'd been pinned over a barrel. "Hadn't thought much about it."
"Well, I think you should. In fact, we should go show them all how good forty can look." She shot him a sexy little grin across the table for enticement. "Besides, I think everyone in the family but us is going to be gone on their fabulous summer trips." She looked down the table at the others. "Right, guys?" The others nodded.
"I felt badly about booking my cruise over your birthday weekend, but it was the only time they were holding the single seniors cruise. I had no choice," Barbara said.
Cara scoffed. "Stay here and have some birthday cake, versus going to find a hottie on a c
ruise?" She laughed. "No contest, Barbara. None whatsoever."
"I'm glad you feel that way," Barbara said.
"So see? It's just you and me," she told Greg. "We're on our own for our big, fat birthday this year. Say you'll take me to the reunion." She knew it wasn't fair to wheedle so much, but she hadn't done anything fun in such a long time. And it was bound to be a rough stretch of weeks with both the kids and Barbara out of town.
He sent her a look back across the table that said he was none too happy to be held ransom like that, but it was tempered by something else ... indulgence, maybe, shining in his eyes. She thought it looked pretty handsome on him.
"Come on, Gregory," she cajoled, knowing it rubbed for her to call him by his full name. She was about the only one he allowed to do so, and he usually retaliated by calling her 'Caroline', something she didn't much enjoy, either. It was their inside joke ... one of about a dozen between them. "Let's go see who's lost their hair and gained a beer belly. Let's show 'em what forty can be."
Something changed in his look as he let her grovel a little more. She couldn't have called it by name, but it was there, in his eyes as he looked at her, assessing ... hungry. And it gave her a perverse little thrill to see it. He studied her for a minute more. Finally having exhausted her repertoire of begging, she canted her head to one side and tried a little flirt with her eyes.
It seemed to reach across the table and sucker punch him. He reeled, then raised one eyebrow at her. "I give," he said. "You're too persuasive, by half."
Well, good. At least she still had a touch of sex appeal. Actually, it felt pretty darned good to get it out and work it a little, she decided. Good deal. She now had two things to look forward to. Summer was looking up.
***
He should have pressed the point and picked her up himself. Not that she was actually late. In fact, she wasn't due at the event center for another fifteen minutes, but Greg had been eagerly watching for her for at least fifteen minutes already. He couldn't say why he was so suddenly edgy about tonight. It wasn't as if this was an unusual type of gathering for him. As Assistant Athletic Director for the university, he routinely attended these fundraising functions and all manner of soirees. Most of them bored him to the bone, but it was all part and parcel of the job description. He went from hobnobbing with the über rich to helping recruit the sometimes knuckle-headed athletes who didn't have sense enough to be unleashed from momma's apron strings. It was enough to give a guy social whiplash, his job. So tonight was nothing new. He couldn't account for the tension he felt in the back of his neck and his eagerness for Cara to arrive. He'd owe her one after this. She was saving his hide by acting as his hostess tonight.
He leaned one shoulder into a marble column in the foyer and relaxed some, reminding himself there was no way in hell she'd arrive late, or inappropriately dressed, or anything else one might consider a social misstep tonight. That just wasn't Cara.
Caroline Brooks was one of the most put together and intelligent women he knew. Organize a recital for two dozen pampered princesses and make it look like child's play? Like she was having a blast doing it effortlessly? That's exactly what he'd watched her do two weeks ago. Oh, those who knew Cara best might have recognized a hair's breadth of irritation with some little darling, or, more likely, her mother, but only those who knew her well would recognize it. For the rest of the world, she was Miss Congeniality.
Her marriage to Jason had been much the same, Greg had decided. Whatever hardship she'd suffered being married to a man such as Jason, Cara weathered well, if the facade she put out there was any depth of truth. But look deeper and you might have seen the carefully mended ragged edge of loneliness and neglect. Jason hadn't been much to brag about in the husband category.
Greg felt justified in thinking so. No one on God's green earth had adored his older brother more than Greg had Jason. And really, what was not to love? He'd had looks and charm and raw, effortless talent on the football, baseball and track fields until it wouldn't have surprised anyone for him to sweep championships in all areas. Hell, it would have amazed them for him not to have done so. He was that kind of guy. All American. Eagle Scout. Most Popular. Most handsome ... just all that and a bag of chips. The kind of guy who walked into a room and sucked up everything ... attention, girls, oxygen, then made it look like he'd brought it all for everyone else's enjoyment. It was carefully practiced and artfully ... brilliantly executed maneuvering. And it worked every.freaking.time.
Greg didn't even try to outdo his brother. He was simply "the other Brooks boy" and idolized Jason with the rest of the world. It wasn't hard. But if he was honest, really down in the gut honest with himself about Jason, Greg knew there were chinks in the armor. It was hard not to immortalize or deify Jason now that he was gone. That was human nature. But Greg knew that as a father and husband, Jason had been selfish and emotionally unavailable to his family. And that was a damn shame, because Jason had had about the best wife and kids a man could ever hope for.
"Are you holding up this column or posing for a fashion photographer?" Cara whispered from over his right shoulder. " 'Cause you look like a hot men's wear model." It brought him upright immediately, that tickle of moist breath falling on his ear.
"Hey. When did you get here and--" words left him when he actually got a look at her. He turned around fully and took a step back, wanting to get the full effect. She looked like a million bucks in a coral colored short cocktail dress that hugged her tighter than sin, cupping her ass like a second skin and scooping way low at the sequined neck line to reveal more cleavage than he'd seen her bare in a long time. Her hair was drawn up off her neck and arranged in a loose curly, swirly thing that made a man want to get his hands all up in it.
He shook his head slowly and whistled under his breath, taking in the whole picture from head to breasts to hips and all the way down those dancer's legs to a pair of five inch heels, and it was enough to blow any persona of cool he might have previously possessed. "Damn, girl. You clean up real good," he said.
She smiled all sexy like and reached to straighten his folded kerchief in his breast pocket. "I could say the same to you. This is a great improvement over coach's shorts and running shoes. You look very handsome in a tux. Don't guess I've seen you in one since your wedding to Beth."
That sobered him some. "Yeah, well, let's don't go there." He leaned back for one more look at her, not even attempting to hide his appreciation. "Turn around and let me get a good look at you."
She gave him a reproachful look, but did as he'd asked, twirling slowly and pausing halfway through to look over her shoulder at him. "It's not too tight on my butt, is it? Maddie said she didn't think so, but I'm a little uncomfortable."
He didn't know how to take it that she could so blithely ask him to check out her ass. She either thought him totally immune to her assets, or too much of a brother to be affected by a good long look at her tight little ass. Either way, she was dead wrong. It had him shunting blood like a randy teenager.
"You're ass looks great, Cara. Any better and I'd have to cop a feel to make sure it was real," he told her. It was an old game they'd played for nearly as long as they'd known one another. He'd make a threat to grab a handful of ass, and she'd make a big game of tease and evade. Just ribald banter between them that was nothing more than good-natured teasing. Jason had ignored it. Beth had tolerated it after an initial period of indignation as a newlywed. And Cara and Greg enjoyed teasing one another with it. Simple as that.
She chuckled deep in her throat, a naughty, sexy sound that he absolutely loved and was probably the primary reason he'd continued to tease her all these years ... just to hear it.
"But seriously, Greg ... you look great tonight," she said, giving him a quick hug and sisterly kiss on his jaw. "Mmm, and you smell nice, too." She leaned back to assess him critically. "You on the troll for a Sugar Momma?" she asked, then laughed that thoroughly bad girl, sexual laugh again.
He grinned. "Well, hell ye
ah. Who isn't?"
She laughed and hooked her arm through his. "All right, then. I'll be on the lookout. It shouldn't be too hard to snag one looking like you do, Mr. G.Q." She squeezed his arm to her side tightly, drawing it up close to the fullness of her breast, and beamed a million watt smile up at him. "You ready?"
"Sure," was the most intelligent thing he could manage at the moment. To her, it was simple banter, like they'd always done. Right now, it didn't feel simple to him. It felt complicated as hell ... confused his senses and deprived his brain of blood. It must be true that, while men had been given two heads, they'd been allotted only enough blood to operate one at a time. There was little doubt which one was going to be in control tonight.
All through dinner and the moderately entertaining speakers, Cara charmed his table guests like she'd been born to the role of hostess with the mostest. As the banquet gave way to party, the band cranked up, warming up the old coots with Sinatra and a touch of Big Band so they might take their wobbly wives for a spin on the dance floor. Greg watched with amusement as Cara had one of his heavy contributors nibbling crumbs out of her hand all evening. The old guy was widowed a while back, Greg knew, and probably hadn't seen this much female attention since the Nixon administration. He was bound to need some muscle relaxers tomorrow, having danced several times with Cara. Hell, he might shake something loose before the night was over.
The band was a good one, an Austin favorite for university and politico gatherings, and they knew how to drive the party. Big Band sounds surrendered to the music of the Stones, Motown, an occasional disco tune, and even a Tim McGraw or other country song thrown in for seasoning every once in a while. A great mix.
