I’m driving to the store and promised I’d call her right away to let her know how our plan turned out with Clyde today. “Well?” Amber asks as she picks up on the first ring.
“I think it worked,” I admit with a sigh. “At least I hope it did.”
“Yeah? I told you, start with food. Guys love that sort of stuff.” She sounds like my mother.
“How would you know? You were with like two guys and have been married ever since.”
“How do you think I landed my husband so quickly?”
“Point taken.” Laughing, I shake my head, even if she can’t see me.
“What did he say when you gave him the fruit salad?”
“Nothing really. I don’t think he actually knew what to say.”
“That’s good, and you didn’t use the excuse of your boss wanting you to stop by for work, right?”
It was on the tip of my tongue, but I fought it back in place of the truth that I wanted to be there. “Nope. I gave his dogs some toys and then handed him the bowl before he could tell me to leave again.” He’s done that nearly every time I’ve stopped over, and it’s pretty embarrassing.
“Wait, you brought toys for his dogs?”
“Yeah, they’re always sweet when I stop over, and if Clyde really is a grouch, I wasn’t sure if they had any.” I hope he plays with them. Tyler would if he was around, and who knows with Nate. At least they have new squeaks to enjoy.
“Dude!” She laughs. “That’s freaking gold! I can’t believe you thought to bring the dogs stuff too. I was worried at first, to be honest, but you’re going to have Clyde back in no time if you keep that sort of stuff up.”
“What? Was it weird to bring them toys?”
“It’s just something you’d be more likely to do if you were a couple or something. I bet his lips were flapping he was so shocked. This is awesome; you should’ve recorded his reaction for me.”
“Well, okay then, good.” Smiling, I hit my signal to pull into the craft store parking lot.
“Where are you now?”
“I just pulled in to park at Hobby Time. I’m getting supplies to make him a front door wreath with stuff from his favorite football team.”
“Jesus, that man’s not going to know what hit him. It’s been a long time since he’s had a Southern woman around a lot. Just remember to be easy. If you rush it too much, he may freak out. You know, guys can be strange when it comes to relationships and stuff.”
“Yes, ma’am. Duly noted. Give that precious angel of yours a kiss from me.”
“Stop spoiling her, she’s two, she’s already rotten enough.”
“Macy is the most precious little girl ever. She needs to be spoiled.” I missed the first year of her life, and I’m absolutely thrilled I’ve moved back and get to be around her now. As for the rotten part, I truly believe she gets that attitude from her mother. Her dad is way too easy going. She’s Amber’s little mini me of herself.
“Ugh, you and her father seem to think so. I was the one stuck changing her diapers. She has y’all fooled.”
Laughing, I say my good-byes and head inside. Operation football wreath is in full swing, and I need to get busy making it. I want to do something for him at least once a week to keep going with my regular schedule of visits. Only this time, switch them from business to leisure, so to speak.
Sure as cornbread goes with greens, you’re the answer to my dreams.
—Southern Sayin’
Nate strides down the stairs, hair askew, obviously having just woken up from sleeping half the day away. Sleeping’s not a big deal, but it’s one in the afternoon. The guy needs to get his life together; he’s not a kid anymore.
“Late night?” I can’t help the gruffness in my non-amused grumble as I ask.
He glances around, finding me on the couch and nods. His gaze stops on the large mixing bowl sitting in my lap. “Cereal?” His brow hikes with his observation and starts to turn for the kitchen.
“No. It’s Mom’s fruit salad.”
A choking sound leaves him before staring me down. “What did you just say?” He knows how long I’ve been trying to replicate it.
“It’s Mom’s fruit salad.”
“You finally found a recipe?”
“No, someone else made it and dropped it by yesterday.”
“Oh, so it’s not really Mom’s then.” His shoulders bounce like it’s not the real deal.
“It is, and to the T. Best thing I’ve had since she was here to make it herself.” It’s the truth. I swear my mouth fell open when I had the first bite. It was like being back ten years ago when Mom was floating around the kitchen.
His forehead scrunches, making us appear even more alike. We seem to make the same gestures all the time. He hurries to the kitchen, grabbing a large serving spoon before making his way over to plop down on the couch beside me.
“Let me try it.” He gestures, spoon heading in my direction, all ready to dig in.
“Nope.”
“Fuck you.” He glares. “Why not?”
Giving in, I huff and hold the bowl out in his direction after a moment so he can scoop a bite out.
“Mmm, oh fuck, bro, that’s good.” He croons like he’s been starved. The guy normally eats like there’s no tomorrow, but we all do.
“Told you it was Mom’s,” I mutter defensively.
He nods, chewing another bite. “I’m getting a bowl. I need more.”
“No way. This was made for me.”
Glowering at my proclamation, he opens his mouth, then shuts it without making a sound, and then his eyes widen. “White truck chick?” It’s like a lightbulb clicks on for him.
Damn it.
“Huh?” I nearly choke at him guessing right away who made it. Clearly, he’s been paying too much attention in my direction lately. Surprising, that’s for sure, and I obviously need to watch myself better.
“You know…” He waves his hand, gesturing toward the direction she always parks. “The short blonde always stopping over. She’s not just a tax lady is she? Wait…” His mouth drops open again as he glances around, most likely looking for a picture of her. I don’t have one anymore though. I made sure Mom got rid of them when everything happened. “Was she ‘the one’?”
Damn it. I clench my teeth to keep me from cursing out loud. “You remember her?” I ask, not wanting to admit he’s guessed correctly.
“Shit, I’m right! I mean, I do, and I don’t remember.” He shrugs. “I didn’t really pay much attention back then; I was too worried about football and chicks. And then the fact that Ty was fucking fast. I was always practicing so that little shithead wouldn’t be quicker than me.”
Grinning at the memory, I take another bite of the sweet, fluffy concoction, reminiscing at everything it brings back. Those two were always competing. It must’ve been a pain in the ass for Nate having a younger brother who was right on his heels growing up. I was close to dad, so I was around him as much as possible. Nate and Ty were the two always screwing with each other and playing pranks or fighting. If it wasn’t them, then Nate would be stuck to Dallas’ hip, it seemed.
“He was faster,” I confess after a moment.
“I know, but I’d never tell him that. It made him try harder,” he admits, grinning as well.
Chuckling, I climb to my feet and put the fruit salad in the fridge. “Don’t eat all of that. I want some later.” It’s made my favorite way with no nuts and extra cherries. I could eat the stuff until it gives me a stomachache and still love it.
“I won’t. So, uh, that’s her, huh? White truck chick?”
Blowing out a breath, I come clean. “Yeah, that’s her. She has a name. It’s Shyla. She’s not a tax lady either; she’s a real estate agent. I didn’t know what to say when you initially asked. I was surprised to see her myself. I ended up saying the first thing that came to mind. I didn’t want anyone asking more questions before I had a chance to think and process why she’d suddenly shown up again after b
eing gone for so long.”
“She stopped by to see you?”
“No.” I shake my head, resting my hand on my hip. “She wanted me to sell the ranch to her boss.”
“You’re joking, right? You can’t be serious.”
“I am as serious as a damn heart attack. I’ve turned her down each time she’s come around though. Then she shows up here again the other day at the pond. I don’t know what she wanted; I didn’t give her a chance to talk much.” A scowl overtakes my face at the memory. “I didn’t care what she had to say, so I threw her ass in the pond.”
He sputters. “You did what?”
I nod, confirming he heard me right, and he bursts out laughing, slapping his leg. Love how this is so easily amusing to him. The woman is beyond infuriating. Just seeing Shyla’s face drives me crazy inside. Hearing her speak is an even worse reminder of what was once between us.
“I didn’t want to hear her repeat the whole spiel she seems to have memorized. Then she showed up again. This time, she was armed with the fruit salad. I’d forgotten in my irritation of her pestering me, that Shyla and Ma were so close back when we were dating. She brought over that damn bowl, and I couldn’t refuse it. Hell, I couldn’t speak much at all when I found out what it was.”
“I get it. I wouldn’t have been able to either. Now, back to the pond, what did she say about you throwing her in?”
“Oh, she cursed me and took her shirt off.” I shrug. It’s typical Shyla; she’d have done the same thing back when we were teenagers too. I’d expect nothing less out of her.
“No fucking way. She’s pretty hot.”
I send him a glare before I catch myself. I shouldn’t care, especially after so long. She’s not mine, and she never will be. Doesn’t mean I’ll tolerate my younger brother chasing her tail.
“Sorry, man, but it’s true. So, did you bang her after that?”
“Bang her? No, Nate, I’m not a ‘banger.’ If you’re wondering if I slept with her, well that’s none of your damn business.”
“Holy shit, you did fuck her!”
At one point in time I did—many times. “Jesus H Christ Nate, watch the f-bombs. Mom would be throwing spatulas at you if she heard the way you talk now.”
“I’m a grown man, Clyde.”
A snort escapes. “Are you?” I quickly change the subject, “’Cause I see you waking up at one p.m. and staying out all night. Last I checked, grown men take care of things, like having a job for example or finishing college.”
He shoots nearly the same cold glare as my own, right back at me. “I have a job. That’s where I’m at all hours of the night. I bartend. I’ve told you this before.”
I think he’s full of shit, but I don’t say it aloud. He may have others drinking the Kool-Aid he spouts, but I’m not one of them. Part of me wonders if he has an actual drinking problem. I certainly hope not. The only thing not adding up is that we have buckets of moonshine that haven’t been touched. I’d think if he were a true alcoholic he’d be drinking the free liquor we have here, not out at a bar.
“Right.”
His arms cross, his eyes so much like my own, staring me down. “Back to you and Shyla—”
“There is no me and Shyla,” I cut him off.
“Well, she made you food and keeps stopping over. So, I’d say there’s something there, bro.”
“There may have been at one time, but I’ll never let her back in. She made her choice long ago, and in response to hers, I made mine as well.”
“Did it ever cross your mind that it may be good to have a woman in your life? Or that decisions like those aren’t so simple to make? You’re thickheaded, Clyde. You always have been.”
Scoffing, I shake my head. “I don’t have time for a woman in my life, and if I did, it wouldn’t be Shyla.”
He shrugs. “Whatever, man. I’m going to go vacuum out my truck and wash it.”
“When are you going to do rounds?”
He used to check over the ranch for me regularly, but he’s been slacking on it more and more. It’s too time-consuming for me to ride around looking it over and fixing whatever needs to be done as I go when I have everything else to take care of around here. It’s the least he can do as far as pitching in goes.
“I can check out things later. Why?”
“Chaos will be stopping back by the ranch sometime soon, and I only have enough ‘shine for one more pickup. I need to start on another batch soon, so that means you have to be keepin’ an eye on things around here.”
Chaos is Kadence’s father. He’s a biker that drives through here a few times a year and likes to take my moonshine back to his motorcycle club. It’s good business, and the fact that it’s Ty’s girl makes it better. I hate selling to new people. You never know who to trust.
“I thought that’s why you got the dogs?”
“They help when you’re not around. I’ll be in the shed out there, though, and I need you to check the perimeter. You know you can’t hear shit well when you’re cooped up in that small space.”
And if I don’t monitor it closely, something could go wrong. Something you learn in moonshining is it’s never that simple. Something always messes up or catches fire, and a fire is the easiest way to draw unwanted attention. The last thing I need is the law out here snooping around, especially when someone already has his eyes on our land.
“All right,” he relents, his muscular arms falling to his sides. “I’ll see if Dallas wants to go with me.”
“Good idea. Just don’t drink too much. The last time the fucker drove through the fence.”
“He told you about that?”
“No, Nathan. I’m not an idiot. I figured it out for myself when he offered to fix it without me paying him for it. He hardly has enough common sense to realize he gives himself away every damn time. Has ever since he was a teenager.”
“It was my fault. We started taking a shot for each fence post we fixed, and it just went downhill the longer we were out there.”
“You don’t need to cover for him. You’re both adults. You want to screw around and have to waste time fixin’ shit that shouldn’t need it, is up to you. I’ll be making ‘shine to keep the horses fed.”
I throw the last bit in to make him feel a touch guilty for screwing off, even though it’s not true. I make enough to care for them just from boarding a few rich city folks’ horses. Those people will pay a pretty penny to have their animals cared for. My uncle turned me onto that side business, and I’ve never been so grateful for it.
“Maybe I’ll run into your old girlfriend if she decides to stop by again.” He snickers. “I’d love to meet the chick that turned your heart to ice and ask her to make me some food too.”
“She stops by, then you ignore her. Shyla doesn’t need anyone encouraging her in any way.”
“If she was close to Mom and y’all dated for forever, does she know about Dad’s side business?”
“Enough about Shy, Nate. Just ignore her and pretend she doesn’t exist; that’s what I do.”
“You keep telling yourself that, big guy, but you forget that I grew up with you. Memories are starting to come back to me—one in particular of a drunken bonfire. I believe you were burning things and ended up hooking up with two chicks that night? You were shit-faced and at least half the team was around.”
“Shut up. I have work to do.”
I make my way out the back door before he can continue stirring the pot. I remember that night like it was yesterday. That was the evening everything changed between us. I could never forget no matter how much I drank or who I was around. I’d decided to attempt to drown my feelings in whatever way I could, and my teammates joined in, celebrating our team win. My dad let it fly after being there front and center to witness my devastation.
I’m sure there are a few stalls that need cleaning. That’ll no doubt get my mind off a specific persistent woman and the haunting memories making their way to the front of my mind. Nothing like fresh
horseshit to clear your head of just about anything.
I’m from the south darlin’…
I will bless your heart and slap the mess out of you.
And then bring you a casserole.
—Rotten Cards
“Clyde?” My brother pokes his head in the small building a week later. I’m sweating like a pig trapped in here with all this heat. I’ve been working on getting the fire just the right temperature to start on the next batch of apple pie moonshine. It seems to be everyone’s favorite and my best seller.
“Yeah?”
“It looks like someone’s been on the very edge of the property, down at the south side.”
“They were trespassing, or you think it was the neighbors?” We all live so far apart that we rarely—if ever—see each other. Sometimes we may get a group of trespassers if they’re kids trying to drink or whatever without getting caught. Other times people have been caught attempting to hunt. Not sure what they’re looking to hunt, but in any case it’s illegal, all of our land this way is private property.
“Hard to tell, but I’ll check over there again this evening. Maybe they’ll show back up when it’s dark. Could just be some teenagers.”
“That’s what I was thinking. Take the shotgun with you, in any case.” I nod toward the weapon propped beside the door.
You can never be too careful when you run an illegal side business. Some people think it’s fine to steal, but I’m not one of them. And he’s saying it’s over by the south side of the ranch. That’s not close to any streets, so it automatically gets the hair standing up on my arms, wondering who it is and what they’re after.
“I will. I’ll have the dogs go too; see if they pick up on anything.”
“Sounds good. I’ll be either here or in the barn if you need me.”
Gracie starts howling, coming up from the around the house. I’m glad the doors open from Nate or I’d probably never have heard her. “Shit.”
3 Times the Heat Page 5
