Victim Of Circumstance

by Freya Barker

  She’s pulling a U-Haul behind her small SUV, so Robin told her to take it slow and divide the drive over two days.

  “She’s driving?” Kyle does not sound pleased.

  Jimmy and I look at each other, simultaneously raising an eyebrow before we glance at Kyle.

  “What’s it to you?”

  His eyes shoot to me.

  “It’s hardly safe for a woman alone on the road. What if she hits bad weather?”

  “Listen here, kid; if her mother trusts her enough to make the trip, why the hell would you worry?”

  “Her mother doesn’t see what I see,” Kyle persists, not so wisely. “Paige could stop traffic, she’s that hot.”

  “All right, Valentino,” Jimmy jumps in, throwing an arm around his shoulders and steering him into the garage. “You’re poking the bear,” I hear him mumble at the kid.

  I’m starting to rethink the favor I was going to ask of the guys to come and help empty Paige’s trailer when she gets here. Maybe that’s not such a good idea, given the way Kyle talks about her.

  I pull out my phone and dial Robin as I head around the side of the shop to the apartment stairs.

  “Change of plans,” I tell her when she answers my call.

  “What?”

  “Kyle won’t be helping this weekend.”

  “That’s too bad. Is he busy?”

  “No.”

  I open the door and let myself inside, flicking on the lights. I’ve left the furniture for Paige to pick through, but other than my clothes and books, there’s not much left for me to load up.

  “He said no? Well, that’s a surprise; I actually thought he might be a little sweet on her. Guess I was wrong.”

  It would probably be easier to let her assume that.

  “He didn’t say no,” I admit anyway.

  “Okay, now I’m confused.”

  “He thinks she’s hot,” I clarify.

  “So I was right. I knew it,” she says triumphantly. “So why isn’t he helping?”

  Normally Robin is sharp as a tack, I can’t believe she’s not clueing in.

  “Because he thinks she’s hot,” I repeat. “Sunshine, the kid almost bit my head off when he found out she’s driving here by herself.”

  “Awww, that’s sweet,” is her chuckled reply. “Almost sounds familiar, Gray. You think maybe you’re being a little overprotective here?”

  Now I’m getting a little pissed. Doesn’t she realize I’m just using common sense?

  “You wouldn’t say that if you knew what guys his age spend their time thinking about, Robin. They’re horndogs.”

  Apparently I said something funny because she’s suddenly laughing loudly. I’m about to hang up on her when she seems to gain control.

  “Gray?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Why don’t you come home and explain it to me. Maybe we can scratch another item off your bucket list,” she teases in a sultry voice.

  Fuck. The blood that was trying to keep from boiling suddenly heads south, flooding my dick. Just like that, every argument on my lips evaporates.

  “I’m just packing up,” I tell her, as I empty the contents of my drawers straight into the laundry basket.

  Her chuckle is sexy as shit.

  “I’ll be in the garage.”

  Holy crap. We exchanged fantasies last week and enacted hers, but she’s clearly not forgotten about mine. I already moved my Mustang to her place and I know exactly where I’ll find her.

  My voice comes out sounding strangled when I respond.

  “Be right there.”

  Fifteen minutes later, hornier than a teenager at a Playboy party, I slam my truck in park next to Robin’s Honda. I don’t even bother taking my shit out of the truck but head straight for the detached two-car garage, set back from the house.

  Soft light flickers in the single window on the side of the building, but I aim for the left bay door behind, where the Mustang is parked under a dust tarp. I roll up the door, wincing when my jeans prove to be tighter than I anticipated.

  The inside is lit with a single lantern sitting on the workbench. My immediate focus is drawn to the Mustang, the dustcover off, and the paint gleaming in the sparse light.

  Leaning back against the hood is Robin; naked as the day she was born.

  “Welcome home, honey.”

  Chapter Twenty-Eight

  Robin

  “What’s wrong with your arm?”

  Of course the first thing Paige notices is the stress bandage wrapped around my wrist. I shoot a quick glance at Gray, who is suddenly very interested in his boots.

  I’m not about to tell her it’s the result of a very enthusiastic—but probably ill-advised—effort to scratch an item off Gray’s bucket list. Luckily she can’t see his swollen knee, or she might guess.

  Our adventure in the garage was all very sexy, until I got a cramp in my calf in the middle of… Anyway, Gray attempted to lift me off the hood, had forgotten his jeans were around his ankles, and started going down. He sacrificed his knee and I tried to brace for impact by sticking out my hand.

  The whole thing was a clusterfuck—quite literally.

  I plaster a smile on my face for my daughter’s sake.

  “I tripped over the cat,” I lie, silently apologizing to Zeus for throwing him under the bus. “It’s just a sprain. Now, do I get a hug?”

  Paige takes the few steps separating us and I can fold her in my arms.

  “Hey, Mom,” she mumbles in my neck.

  “Hey, sweetheart. So glad you’re here.” I glance over her shoulder to Gray, who is observing us with a faint smile on his lips.

  The next moment she lets me go and turns to him.

  “Hey, Gray.”

  “Paige,” he barely gets out, before Paige plants her face in his chest and wraps her arms around his waist. I almost laugh out loud when I see the brief look of panic on his face before he awkwardly pats her back. “Your drive okay?”

  She lets him go and steps back, and he quickly tucks his hands in his pockets.

  “Yeah. I lucked out with the weather. Not a snowflake in sight.”

  “That’s good,” he grumbles, still looking a little uneasy. “If you give me your keys, I’ll drive it over to the apartment. I’ve got someone meeting me there to help. We can get started on unloading, while you catch up with your mom.”

  “If you’re sure. I just wanna grab a quick bite of something and we’ll be on our way.”

  “Positive.”

  She hands him her keys and he leans in, pressing a kiss on my hair. We watch as he gets behind the wheel of the small SUV, quickly adjusting the seat for more legroom. Paige quietly snickers beside me.

  “You sure you don’t wanna stay here tonight?” I offer, hooking my arm through hers as Gray drives off.

  “I’d rather get this done today, so I can drop the trailer off in the morning.” She starts pulling me toward the house. “But first you need to feed me.”

  It always amazes how natural it feels when my daughter is home. I grin when she heads straight for the kitchen.

  “What’ve you got?” she asks, her head already in the fridge. “Oh, apple pie.”

  She pulls out the pie, grabs a fork from the drawer, and starts eating right from the pan.

  “I have plates, you know,” I scold her, only partially meaning it.

  “No need to get any dirty,” she says with an apple pie filled grin, as she sits down at the table.

  Shaking my head I pour her a glass of milk, setting it beside the pie plate she’s guarding with her arm curved around it.

  Some things never change. She may be all grown-up, but to me she’s still that little pigtailed girl.

  “That was nice of Gray to offer, by the way.” She glances up at me and I bite off a grin.

  “It was,” I agree, pulling out a chair and sitting across from her. “Although I have a suspicion there was a little more to it than just being nice.”

  Paige raises an
eyebrow.

  “What do you mean?”

  “He may have had second thoughts about asking Kyle to help move your stuff.”

  “Kyle? Isn’t that the guy at Olson’s?”

  I recognize the way she tucks her hair behind her ear and widens her eyes in mock-innocence. Oh, my girl knows exactly who I’m talking about.

  “Mmmm,” I mumble in confirmation.

  Paige suddenly gets up and shoves the massacred apple pie back in the fridge, drops her fork in the sink, and moves toward the bathroom.

  “I’m just gonna freshen up before we go,” she mutters, as she disappears from sight.

  This should be interesting.

  I’m chuckling at the stormy expression on Gray’s face as Kyle stubbornly hauls my daughter’s coffee table up the stairs to the apartment by himself. Paige is waiting in the doorway.

  “Down boy,” I whisper in his ear.

  “He’s a punk,” Gray grumbles.

  “He is not. He’s a nice kid, who works hard and obviously aims to impress my daughter.”

  He harrumphs, sounding so much like my dad used to it hits me with a pang of bittersweet nostalgia. I slide my hand in his and entwine our fingers.

  “Go easy, honey,” I caution him, my tone drawing his attention as he turns his head to look at me. “Paige hasn’t exactly been exposed to protective men before. You may want to introduce her gently.”

  He tries to smile but the annoyance isn’t quite gone from his eyes, so I hook a hand behind his neck and pull him down, lifting my mouth for a kiss.

  “All right!” I hear my daughter’s voice coming from above. “I did not need to see that. Are you guys gonna just stand there or are you helping?”

  Gray ducks his head, but I catch the grin on his face as he pulls me along behind him and up the stairs.

  An hour later, we’ve got the apartment the way Paige wants it, and tossed some of the furniture she no longer wants in the back of Kyle’s truck so the guys can run it to the dump. She and I have sorted the kitchen, put clean sheets on the bed, and are putting away her clothes. There are only a few boxes left with odds and ends she says she’ll go through tonight.

  “Have you talked to Gram?” she asks, when I hand her a stack of folded T-shirts to put away.

  “I was going to try and reach her tonight. Why? Did you talk to her?”

  “She called me this morning when I was on the road. She said they might stay on another week or two.”

  Mom was originally supposed to get back next weekend. I’ve missed her, but her wanting to stay longer means she’s having a good time and I’m happy for her. I can wait an extra few weeks to hug her.

  “Good for her. It’ll probably have warmed up by then, so maybe we can have a barbecue at my place. See if we can get her to bring Ken for us to finally meet.”

  My daughter’s dancing eyes meet mine.

  “Can we invite Kyle?”

  I only hesitate for a second, grinning when I think about Gray’s reaction to that.

  “Sure. I’ll ask him.”

  Gray

  “I’ll get it.”

  I watch Paige jump up from her seat on the steps and dart inside to answer the door.

  She was keeping me company while I clean the grill. She and Robin have been cooking all morning. Enough damn food to feed all of Beaverton. Crazy if you ask me, since it’s only Robin’s mother and her boyfriend coming, but the two younger Bishop women seem intent on making an impression. I tried to steal a potato from the salad Paige was putting together earlier but almost got my fingers chopped off. I was banned after that.

  Not a hardship, exactly. I enjoy sitting at the kitchen table with a book in front of me, listening to the two of them chatter in the kitchen. Something that’s happened a few times since Paige moved back. Two women, both fiercely independent, but still so tightly connected. I imagine Robin’s mom will be like that too. It seems to run in the family.

  Family.

  Hard to believe not that long ago, I didn’t know what that meant, or maybe I’d just forgotten. Either way, I’m learning quickly what family can be: uninvited smiles, warm touches, easy disagreements, comfortable silences, and food—lots and lots of food.

  “Look who’s here?”

  I turn away from the grill to find a smiling Paige coming through the sliding door, fucking Kyle right behind her.

  “I don’t recall inviting you,” I snap, annoyed he’d have the gall to show up out of the blue.

  “That’s because you didn’t. Robin did,” he answers, the shit-eating grin on his face starting to piss me off.

  I’m about to give the little punk a piece of my mind when Robin steps outside, and I catch a sharp glare from her before she turns a bright smile on the kid as she sidles up to me.

  “So glad you could make it, Kyle. Would you like a drink?”

  “Wouldn’t mind a beer.”

  I may have made a sound, because the next thing I know I have an elbow in my ribs.

  “Coming right up.” She hooks her arm in mine. “Can I borrow you for a sec?”

  I don’t get a chance to answer; she’s already dragging me to the door.

  Inside she swings on me, fire in her eyes as she plants her hands on her hips.

  “Do you think you could lose the attitude before my mom gets here?”

  “What attitude?” I grumble.

  “That one,” she snaps, poking her finger in my chest. “I haven’t seen Mom in months, it’s my first time meeting Ken, and I’d really like us to try and make a good impression.”

  There’s a lot more I can hear her saying between the lines, and I immediately regret adding to her stress. All she wants is for everyone to like each other and get along, and right now there are already plenty of question marks in play. Last thing she needs is me adding to the tension.

  It’s not that Kyle is a bad guy—he’s not, from what I can see he’s smart and a hard worker—but his cocky attitude gets to me sometimes. Maybe because he reminds me of me at that age, and God knows I was a punk.

  I step toward her and slip my arms around her waist, tugging her close. I bend my head down and kiss the tip of her nose.

  “I’m sorry. I’ll behave.”

  “She could do worse, Gray,” Robin says, a plea in her eyes. “She already has.”

  She’s referring to that little weasel. That guy ever shows his face here, he and I will have words. Of sorts.

  “I know, Robin.”

  “He’s a good man,” she insists, her lips a firm line.

  I save myself from responding by kissing her. I tease her with my tongue, satisfied when I feel her mouth finally relax, letting me in. One of my hands tangles in her hair, tilting her head back. With her slim neck exposed, I slide my lips down until I find her heartbeat in the soft hollow at its base.

  “Love you, Sunshine,” I mumble against her skin, before lifting my head and looking in her eyes.

  “Me too,” she whispers.

  “Hellooo!”

  Robin’s eyes go wide at the sound of a woman’s voice from the front of the house, but before she can wrestle herself from my hold, a pretty woman, who could be Robin’s older sister, and a tough-looking guy walk into the kitchen. The resemblance between all the Bishop women is undeniable; all brunettes, all beautiful.

  Robin and her mother hug and the man, Ken, and I take measure of the other over the women’s heads.

  “You look so good!” Robin exclaims, holding her mother at arm’s length. “Look at your tan.”

  “And you, honey, you look fantastic,” her mother replies.

  With those two chattering away, and remembering my promise to Robin to behave, I approach Ken offering my hand.

  “Good to meet you. Gray Bennet.”

  “Ken Saunders.”

  His grip is firm and his gaze discerning. The guy can’t be that much older than me, but there’s something authoritarian about him. Must be the cop in him. Robin told me he was retired law enforcement.


  “Beer?”

  “Dying for one.”

  By the time I pull a couple from the fridge and hand one to Ken, the women have turned to us, both smiling big. Further introductions are made—which included a hug from Mrs. Bishop—something else they have in common.

  “Gram!” Paige’s squeal triggers more hugging and introductions.

  I make my way to the door and slip outside, the kitchen becoming a little claustrophobic with all those bodies. I take in a few deep breaths to release the tension in my chest.

  It still happens every so often—an enclosed space, an unexpected hand on my back, an occasional nightmare—but nothing Robin’s soft touch or a little deep breathing can’t erase.

  “You don’t drink?” Ken’s voice sounds behind me.

  He must’ve seen me hand the other beer to Kyle.

  “I do, but not often.” I turn around and face him, leaning my back against the railing. “You know,” I challenge him, catching another scrutinizing glance.

  “Didn’t know it was a secret,” he fires back.

  “So? What’s the verdict?”

  I know I’m being an ass but it slips out anyway. I don’t expect the grin stretching on his face.

  “Thought you already served your time?” he deadpans.

  I bark out a laugh, surprised as hell.

  “Every last second,” I tell him.

  “Good,” he says, turning so he’s facing the sliding doors as well. “Now that we have that out of the way, what do you make of that cocky little bastard in there?”

  Minutes later, Robin walks outside with a platter of meat, her eyes on me.

  “What are you grinning about?” she wants to know.

  I’m not about to tell her I may have backed off Kyle, but Ken is planning to put the thumbscrews on. I take the platter, slide it to the side of the grill, and take her in my arms.

  “I’m happy.”

  She tilts her head, not sure if she should believe me.

  “How come I get the feeling that’s not all?”

  I take her face in my hands and lean my forehead against hers.

  “Sunshine, it’s everything.”

  Epilogue