Playing Dirty

by Jamie Ann Denton

  She set her coffee aside and went to the silverware drawer for cutlery, then snagged placemats and napkins from another drawer. He handed off the plates to her and she arranged the place settings at the island.

  Rhythm. Without thought or design, they were finding theirs again—just like they always had done.

  “Mommy? Is Daddy going to church with us?”

  Mattie’s gaze shot to Ford, who looked at her expectantly. He shrugged, silently leaving the decision to her.

  Two weeks ago she’d married Trenton. So far as she knew, no one in town was aware Ford had returned. Yet. To the people of Hart, she was Ford’s widow who, after a proper period of mourning, had remarried a nice lawyer from Dallas. There would be stares, gossip, and questions she wasn’t prepared to answer.

  “Not today, Pork Chop,” Mattie said. “Daddy just came home so we’re going to skip Mass and get ready to go to Granddaddy’s house later, okay?”

  Phoebe gave her a stern look. “Father Monty won’t be happy. He’s gonna sa-cold you.”

  “It’ll be okay. He won’t scold me too much.”

  Phoebe shook her head. “I don’t know, Mommy. He’s not gonna like it.”

  “Just this once,” Mattie reassured her daughter. “It’ll be okay.”

  “Father Monty?” Ford asked.

  “He came to Our Lady of Grace when Father James retired about three years ago,” she told him. She kept the fact that she credited Father Montgomery Davis in helping restore her faith after Ford’s death to herself. She’d essentially given up, on everything, her faith included. Deep down, she was still the youngest daughter of the town doctor, a girl from small town Texas. Come Sunday morning, her butt was in the pew regardless of what she’d believed. It was the Southern way—at least in Texas.

  “He’s mean,” Phoebe told her father.

  “He’s not,” Mattie said to Ford.

  “Yes, he is, Mommy.” Phoebe looked at her father. “And he thinks baseball is dumb.”

  “Phoebe, you don’t know that.”

  She planted her hands on her hips. “Yes, I do,” she insisted. “He said I watch too much baseball for a girl.”

  Mattie rolled her eyes. “I really have no idea where she comes by her sense of drama.”

  “And don’t talk when he’s talking, Daddy. He will call you names.”

  Ford frowned. “What kind of priest calls little girls names?” He removed the platter from the warming oven.

  “A mean one,” Phoebe said again.

  “He didn’t call her names. Phoebe, don’t stretch the truth.”

  “I’m not, Mommy,” she said. “He called me a pert ant.”

  “He said you were impertinent,” Mattie corrected. “And that’s not name calling.”

  “It’s still mean,” Phoebe said, then bent her head to concentrate on her coloring book.

  Ford chuckled as he retrieved the bacon from the oven and transferred the slices to the platter. While he slid the last batch of pancakes from the griddle, Mattie went to the pantry for syrup and powdered sugar, then stopped at the fridge for butter.

  “I’m starting to see what you meant,” Ford said with a wide grin when they met at the island.

  “Don’t say you weren’t warned.” Mattie fixed up a pancake with butter and syrup for Phoebe, then cut it into small, bite-sized pieces. “It’s a good thing I’m close friends with the elementary school principal.”

  “Anyone I know?”

  “No. Her name’s Hannah Richards. She moved up here from Corpus Christi a couple of years back. Hanna is the one who hired me.”

  Ford took the seat next to Phoebe. “I thought you taught high school.”

  She nodded as she sat. “Hanna was initially hired as vice principal for the high school, then eventually took over on the elementary side this year.” She smiled. “It really pays to have friends in high places.”

  Phoebe finished her breakfast in record time, then scampered off to her room to play with her dolls, while she and Ford lingered over coffee. She did her best to answer his questions. She explained the story behind Griffen and Jed and the crazy circumstances surrounding their relationship. She told him of her dad’s decision to semi-retire and the young doctor from Seattle he’d hired to eventually take over his practice, and how she and Griffen suspected her dad had been seeing someone whom he’d yet to introduce to his daughters. She told him how she’d graduated from culinary school, but had decided to stick with teaching because the hours in restaurant work weren’t conducive to raising a child on her own.

  She finished off her coffee. “A lot of life happened in the past five years.”

  Ford settled his hand over hers. “I’m sorry. I never should’ve left you.”

  She looked at him, into that piercing blue gaze she’d have given anything to see one last time. Her own filled with tears. “No, you shouldn’t have.” Her voice caught. “Losing you nearly killed me,” she admitted to him. “I can’t go through something like that again.”

  He laced their fingers together and brought their joined hands to his lips. “You won’t,” he said, kissing her fingers. “I promise you. You won’t have to.”

  She wanted to believe him. She really did. But as she pulled her hand from his, she knew that wasn’t his promise to make.

  Eight

  AS IF THE past five years of his life hadn’t been spent living in sheer hell, Ford found the mundane task of driving, oddly satisfying. He pulled Mattie’s red Ford Edge into her dad’s driveway and parked it next to Jed’s Escalade. He killed the engine as he looked over at Mattie, who frowned down at her cell phone. “Something wrong?”

  “Nope.” She shook her head, her sleek ponytail swaying with the movement. “Nada.”

  “Are you sure? You look upset.” His gaze zeroed in on Mattie’s tanned legs. The urge to smooth his hand over her thighs had him tightening his hold on the steering wheel. “Maybe you should’ve cancelled, considering you just came home—”

  From your fucking honeymoon.

  Anger and jealousy clawed at him. He looked to her slender legs again. Avery had touched her, but had he discovered what turned her on, or how she loved it when—

  He quickly dispelled the image of his wife in the arms of another man and fought hard against the resentment building up each time his mind wandered down a path better left untraveled. While he understood on a logical level why she’d moved on and married the bastard, he couldn’t help wonder if he’d ever move past the jealousy. “You only returned from Europe yesterday.”

  She slipped her phone into the skirt pocket of her sundress and looked at him, worry banked in her gaze. “It’s fine,” she said.

  Bullshit. None of this was fine. The fact that she obviously didn’t want to tell him about her concerns, not only annoyed him, but fed the green-eyed monster lurking inside him. Had she trusted Avery? What secrets had she shared with the man that he’d never learn?

  He slid his hand over hers and reined in his impatience. “Something is bothering you. Talk to me.”

  She shook her head again. When she looked at him, a smile curved her lips. “Really,” she said, “It’s nothing. Just a text from Griffen saying she’d given Dad a head’s up.”

  “And you would’ve preferred to tell him yourself.” He slid the key from the ignition. “That’s understandable.”

  Mattie nodded as she unhooked her seatbelt, then went to help Phoebe out of the car while he opened the lift gate for the items she’d prepped for tonight’s dinner. Sweat immediately beaded his forehead and he swiped it away with the sleeve of his blue golf shirt before reaching into the back end of the Edge for the supplies. He’d become so accustomed to the hot, arid climate of the Middle Eastern region that the sweltering Texas heat, with its blazing temperatures and thick, heavy humidity was cloying, almost claustrophobic, in comparison.

  “Wait for me,” Mattie called to Phoebe who took off like a shot for the house anyway. She reached in beside him for a couple of the lighte
r bags, then waited for him to take the rest. “I can’t keep up with her,” she said. “She’s fearless. Like you.”

  He wasn’t sure what she wanted him to say. “I’m sorry,” he offered, because it was all he had.

  She gave him a tentative smile. “You don’t have to do that, you know?”

  “Do what?”

  “Keep apologizing for being alive.”

  “Sorry.”

  She laughed and he couldn’t help grinning, enjoying the way her eyes softened when she looked at him. The jealousy and irritation momentarily slipped away. His gaze fell to her lips and the urge to kiss her hit him hard.

  As if she sensed the moment, her smile wavered and she took a step back before he could lower his head and taste her glossy lips. Guilt kicked him in the gut, followed by a deep prick of annoyance. Once upon a time, kissing his wife whenever the hell he’d wanted to wasn’t an issue. Granted, their circumstances weren’t ideal, but damn it, he was her husband. She shouldn’t...what? Be so skittish around him? Avoid his touch?

  He stifled the string of vile swear words threatening to erupt and slammed the lift gate closed. The next few minutes were destined for more emotional chaos. He didn’t need to complicate matters by coming on to his wife when she clearly wasn’t interested.

  A high-pitched squeal drew his attention. He looked over in time to see Phoebe fly up the steps of the front porch and launch herself into his father-in-law’s outstretched arms.

  “Here we go,” Mattie murmured as Griffen, Jed and Austin gathered on the wide front porch.

  Ford followed behind, carrying the remaining grocery sacks. As they neared the house, he spotted another woman he didn’t recognize inside the front door. She hung back from the ruckus and observed their approach. He estimated her age around mid-to-late fifties, and from the concerned way she kept looking at Tom, he’d bet this was the secret he’d been keeping from his daughters.

  “Look, Granddaddy. Look,” Phoebe said pointing in his direction. “My daddy’s not in Heaven anymore.”

  He climbed the steps to greet his father-in-law. After a nudge from Jed, Austin dutifully took the grocery bags from him and carried them into the house.

  Tears brightened Tom’s eyes. “As I live and breathe,” the older man said. He handed Phoebe off to Jed, who hoisted the girl onto his shoulders.

  “Good to see you, Tom,” Ford said, extending his hand.

  “Damned good to see you, too, Son.” Tom ignored his outstretched hand and pulled him into a bear hug instead. “Damned good.”

  Mattie’s family was his family. That’s how it’d been for as long as he could remember. Once his mom had passed, the only family he had left was a great aunt in Connecticut he’d seen twice in his entire life and barely remembered. But the Harts? They were his family. His people. For the first time since returning, he truly felt as if he’d come home.

  Home. Where he prayed he still belonged.

  “It’s good to be here,” he said when Tom finally let him go.

  Tom beamed with genuine happiness. “I’ll bet.” He clapped a hand on Ford’s back, landing with a firm smack between his shoulder blades.

  Ford stiffened for half a heartbeat, just long enough for his father-in-law to notice. Tom gave him a quizzical glance, which he returned with a slight shake of his head, effectively dropping the subject. Temporarily, at least.

  When Tom finally turned his attention to Mattie, Griffen snagged his gaze and motioned for him to follow her into the house. Jed swung Phoebe down from his shoulders and took her by the hand while Ford took the last two grocery sacks from Mattie. Ford followed behind, but not before seeing the extreme concern lighting his father-in-law’s eyes. Whether for his physical condition or Mattie’s emotional one, he couldn’t be sure. Knowing Tom, no doubt a good measure of both.

  He walked into the house and looked around. The last time he’d been there had been well over six years ago, and other than a fresh coat of paint, little had changed in his absence. The year before his capture, he’d been on back to back missions. Then, Mattie had been pregnant with Phoebe so they’d remained close to their home in San Diego. When her parents had come out west for a visit, he’d been in some hot zone playing the big shot hero.

  And for what? For missing out on the first five years of his daughter’s life? For his wife to become a widow because he’d supposedly been killed in action? No wonder she’d turned to Avery. He’d given her no other choice.

  “You look like you could use a drink,” Jed said to him.

  “Several. But I’ll take an iced tea.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yeah,” he said, determined to shake off the melancholy. “I’m driving.”

  Jed pulled a pair of glasses from the cabinet. “Coming up.”

  “How is that possible?” Griffen asked as she started to unload the bags. “Didn’t your driver’s license expire?”

  “Friends in high places,” Ford answered.

  “Must be nice.”

  “It has its perks.” He took the glass of tea Jed offered. “Who was that woman I saw earlier?”

  “Lillian Valdez,” Griffen told him, keeping her voice low. “We just met her.”

  “Your dad has a girlfriend?”

  Griffen hiked one eyebrow. “So it seems.”

  He’d always had a hard time reading Griffen. She was more stoic than Mattie and more grounded than their oldest sister, Dani, had been. With Griffen, he’d never been able to tell if she was being skeptical or sarcastic.

  At that moment, Lillian Valdez walked into the kitchen. “Can I do anything to help?”

  “No, thank you,” Griffen offered a warm smile. “A word of warning, though. My sister’s not shy about enslaving those around her, so we tend to scatter if we can manage it.”

  “Good to know,” Lillian said.

  “You’re safe for now.” Griffen pulled out a chair from the breakfast bar. “Jed, will you fix Dr. Valdez something to drink?”

  “Lily, please. I’ll have whatever y’all are having.”

  “Another round of iced tea, it is,” Jed said.

  Ford had a hard time reconciling the wild stories he’d heard about Maitland the Maniac, the Texas Wranglers’ former star quarterback, with the man he was beginning to know. The brother-in-law serving iced tea and friendly chit-chat with Tom’s lady friend hardly seemed like a hardboiled womanizer or the hell on wheels troublemaker. With training camp already in full swing and the Wranglers’ first pre-season game a couple of weeks away, he couldn’t help wonder if Jed missed the game.

  Ford approached Dr. Valdez and extended his hand. “Ford Grayson.”

  She shook his hand, surprising him with her strong grip. “Lily Valdez.”

  “You’re a doctor?” he asked as he pulled out a bar stool and sat. “What’s your specialty?”

  She smiled her thanks when Jed slid a glass of iced tea in front of her. “Psychiatry.”

  “Interesting field,” Ford said. “I’ll bet you’re fun to sit next to at cocktail parties.”

  “Ah yes.” She grinned. “Because I see what others cannot.”

  Ford chuckled. “Something like that.”

  “No such luck. Psychiatry, not psychic. I missed that class in med school.” Her smile deepened with humor and Ford understood Tom’s attraction to Dr. Lily. In some ways, she reminded him of his late mother-in-law with her thick, dark sable hair, and her direct gaze, a more-gray-than-blue that reminded him of the sky just before a storm started to gather.

  “That’s too bad,” Jed added, slipping the last container into the fridge.

  “Trust me,” Lily said. “There were times it would’ve been incredibly handy, too.”

  Griffen handed Jed a large plastic Tupperware container filled with potato salad. “Would have? You’re retired?”

  “Not completely.” Lily took a sip of her tea. “I still work, but mostly on-call with crisis patients.”

  “Suicide watch.” Ford shook his head. “T
hat doesn’t sound like much fun.”

  “Unfortunately, no, it really isn’t. And yes,” she said, “most of my patients are suicidal, which is all too often a desperate cry for help.”

  The bags now empty, Jed folded and stowed them in the pantry. “Seems rather dramatic,” he said. “I can think of a dozen other ways to ask for help.”

  “That’s because you’re not a high risk patient with mental health issues,” Lily explained. “A large percentage of the people I work with are suffering from varying forms of schizophrenia or severe bipolar disorder. One of the most difficult aspects is keeping them on their meds. You really haven’t lived until you try convincing a paranoid schizophrenic, who hasn’t slept in three days, that the medication he needs in order to function, isn’t filled with micro-organisms crafted by some high-tech government lab rat, in order to take over his body while he sleeps.”

  “In my line of work,” Ford said with a chuff of laughter, “I wouldn’t discount it as a possibility.”

  Jed laughed. “Paranoid much?”

  Ford grinned. “Only a little.”

  Austin and Phoebe came into the kitchen, Austin moving beside Griffen. The kid towered her by a good two inches and easily slung his arm over her shoulder. “I’m hungry.”

  “What’s new?” She reached for the fruit basket on the counter. Austin plucked a nectarine, then went to the sink to rinse it. Ford couldn’t believe how much the kid had grown since he’d last seen him. The fact that he was a carbon copy of Jed was mind boggling.

  “Daddy?” Phoebe’s tug on his pant leg drew his attention away from his rapidly growing nephew. “Where’s Mommy?”

  “She’s talking to Granddaddy,” he told Phoebe. She lifted her arms and he reached down to place her onto his lap. “Why? What you need, Centipede?”

  “A hug.” She slipped her little arms around his neck and held on tight. “Just a hug, Daddy.”

  “You’ve come to the right place,” he said. “I’ve got lots and lots of hugs ‘specially for you.” He held her close and kissed the top of her head.