What was going on with him? If he was as tired as Mom said, why wasn’t he leaving all of the decisions to Gray?
Determined now, decision made, Gray drove to Spade’s law office all the while thinking, God help me, I don’t want to do this. John granted five minutes of his time. It took Gray all of two to get the procedure started.
“How does this work?”
“We’ll petition family court for guardianship for you over your dad. He’ll become a dependent adult. We’ll petition for guardianship of his property in probate court.”
Gray moaned. “Jeez. That’s bad. We’re treating him like a child.”
“We’ll seek a psychological evaluation. I’ll hire a professional to conduct it.”
Gray loosened his tie and undid the top button of his shirt. He couldn’t breathe. “What if Dad won’t agree to the evaluation?”
“We can have the court order it.”
Sick to his stomach, he asked, “They would force him?”
John nodded. “He’s been making decisions that are killing the company.”
When Gray didn’t respond, John assessed him with a thoughtful gaze. “Okay, listen, Gray, this is how it’s going to go down. You’re emotionally involved. Understandably so.”
John stood and rounded his desk. “From now on, I take care of this. You do nothing. Go about your normal life. Take care of your dad’s business, but leave this to me. All of it. I’ll get this done for you, but you don’t ask questions to which you don’t want to hear answers.”
He ushered Gray to the outer door. “Are we clear?” Judging by Spade’s expression, he would be as ruthless as necessary.
Stomach churning, Gray strode to his parked car before he could change his mind. Who knew guilt could be physical, could leave a man feeling like either losing his breakfast or smashing his fist through the windshield?
Once back at work, he pulled three sticks of gum out of a package he’d bought earlier, crammed them all into his mouth and chewed furiously.
If he did this, would Dad ever forgive him? How long could Gray live with the guilt? But then, how much longer would Dad live? Even hinting about Dad’s death cut off air to his lungs. Besides, the guilt wouldn’t end on Dad dying.
Gray would still have to live with Mom’s hurt, with her sense of betrayal. She would no longer trust Gray, wondering when he would turn on her. Thoughts of Mom brought to mind the contents of that letter and the despair on Shelly’s face.
If he went back on the promise he’d made to her yesterday that he would deliver the money she needed, he didn’t doubt that Shelly had the backbone and the extreme motivation to take her story to the papers.
It would kill Mom to learn that Dad had been unfaithful, but particularly if she read of it in a public forum.
Declaring Dad unfit would corrode their family unit. Gray would never be welcome in his parents’ home again. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place.
Gray had no choice. Like any good businessman, he could do whatever needed to be done. And he just had.
CHAPTER SIX
ON FRIDAY MORNING, Gray had picked up a mile-long list of ingredients for Mom’s dinner tonight. Now, he stood in The Last Dance, waiting for a flower arrangement she had ordered from Audrey.
Waiting being the significant word.
Audrey was with another customer, a woman he recognized. Laura Cameron. Every boy in high school, including himself, had had the hots for Laura. She had a stunning figure, beautiful eyes and lush chestnut hair. She also had a baby in her arms. Must have gotten married. Or maybe not, these days. It just showed that he was still out of touch with a lot of the townspeople.
Audrey oohed and aahed over the baby, chucking her under the chin and making her giggle, rather than dealing with a customer. Him.
“I just love her outfit,” Laura said. “Thank you so much for making it, Audrey.”
“Thanks for bringing Pearl in so I could see it on her.” She reached under the counter and pulled out a small camera. “Let me get a shot.”
She hadn’t even acknowledged Gray. Even if she was pissed at him because he’d been so cold to her on Wednesday morning when she’d visited his mom, this was no way to run a business.
Jerry came from the back, spotted him and ambled over, pressing his wet nose into Gray’s hand. Gray couldn’t resist the soft insistence of his attention, the quiet assumption of Gray’s affection.
While he rubbed Jerry’s ears, he watched Audrey, because it seemed that, as long as he was in the same room with her, he could do nothing else.
Today, she wore an emerald-green dress with white stripes. He thought the style was called a halter dress. He wasn’t sure how the engineering, the mechanics, worked, but that must be strong material. Those straps around her neck were holding up a lot of...stuff.
She took a photo of Pearl and then put the camera on the counter. “Let me hold her.”
Gray rolled his eyes. Seriously? She was keeping a paying customer waiting?
Pearl went into her arms easily and nuzzled her neck, rooting until her mouth came close to one of Audrey’s breasts, and Gray’s temperature shot through the roof.
He’d wanted children. Marnie had wanted children. If they could have only agreed on where they would live after the wedding, they would have already been married and had a couple of kids when she died. Gray would already be a father. Harrison and Abigail would already be grandparents.
Losing his fiancée had shattered him. Not already having a family to replace the parents who would die someday soon from old age killed him. On top of that, he was about to lose his dad because of a business decision that had to be made.
He wanted...he wanted...life to be full and whole and good, and for all of this bad stuff to stop happening. As hard as he tried to steer his life forward, as hard as he pressed on the accelerator to get ahead, the car kept stalling. When he did move, roadblocks hovered every few feet.
He wanted a normal life with a loving woman on one arm and his baby on the other.
Audrey giggled because Pearl was still trying to get to her breast.
“I have to feed her after I leave here,” Laura said, laughing, too.
Pearl looked as though she belonged in Audrey’s arms. The rightness of Audrey holding a baby sapped Gray of all sense.
An image, puissant and fierce, of her opening her dress and putting a babe to her full breast, shocked him. His fingers clenched in Jerry’s fur, and the dog whimpered. He eased his grip. So what if she looked good, wholly feminine and maternal holding a child? What did that have to do with him?
He’d seen a lot of women with babies, tons of them, so why was he suddenly brain-dead stupid just because Audrey Stone was holding one?
Gray forced himself to erase the image of Audrey breastfeeding, as breath-robbing as it was, from his mind.
He turned away until he’d collected himself. One day he would have a family. He just had a few obstacles to overcome first.
The idea of wanting Audrey at all, craving all of the lush sexiness of her body and the generosity of her spirit, was terrifying enough without images of her holding not just any baby, but his.
Why she intimidated him—no, that word was too mild; he’d been right the first time in that she terrified him—both puzzled and confused him. He’d never had trouble with women before. So, what was it about her that scared him? She was a woman, nothing more.
When Laura finally left, she nodded to him, and he smiled, but when he approached Audrey about his mom’s flowers, his smile slipped.
“This is no way to run a business. You don’t keep a customer waiting while you fall apart over a baby.”
The joy on Audrey’s face dried up, and Gray felt as if he’d killed a baby rabbit. The sun had just gone behind a bank of storm clouds. He couldn’t seem t
o stop himself and plowed on.
“You’ll never be a success if you treat customers so shabbily.”
She didn’t say a word, just reached for a wrapped package, as though she couldn’t get him out of her shop fast enough.
“Here’s Abigail’s arrangement.” She named the price, and he paid with his credit card.
About to leave, she stopped him with a quiet, “Gray.”
He looked over his shoulder.
“This is a small town. The way business is run here is by being friendly, open, communicative. By being part of the community. If you don’t recognize that, you’ll run into trouble here.”
She was right. He’d overreacted with his impatience and his big-city get-it-done-yesterday mind-set.
After that image of her holding the baby, after those revelations of how deeply his longings went, he realized how much he needed to keep this woman at a distance. At a long, far, miles-away distance.
She couldn’t be his friend. She couldn’t be his lover. He was about to betray his dad. He couldn’t get close to Audrey and then betray her. Because he would. Betray her. She was going to lose those greenhouses to him, and he was going to save both his mother from disappointment and disgrace, and Turner Lumber from bankruptcy.
How could he avoid Audrey, though? She was coming to dinner tonight. He would have to ignore her. Not look at her. Acknowledge her as little as possible. Put a bag over his head. Bury his head in his mother’s garden.
He hoped she showed up in a paper sack.
* * *
FOR AN HOUR, since Audrey had arrived and while they’d eaten dinner, Gray had been watching one strap of her dress slip from her left shoulder. She would smooth it up, but five minutes later it would complete its inevitable slide down her white skin.
He’d never seen such unblemished skin.
She hadn’t shown up in a paper bag, but a white dress with black Eiffel towers tilting at jaunty angles all over the fabric. The dress hugged her curves to a drop waist, then flared out from her hips.
An upside-down arch of fabric swooped from the top of her bodice up over her shoulders. She must have been wearing one hell of a strapless bra because the collar of the dress was too wide to allow for bra straps. Whatever the undergarment, it must have been a real feat of engineering to hold up all of that lovely flesh.
He glanced at Audrey’s face. She’d caught him staring at her chest. His face flamed, but maybe not as much as hers did.
“Do you two remember when—” Mom began, but Dad cut her off.
“Abigail,” Dad said, his tone as stern as Gray had ever heard it, his rudeness out of character. “Don’t go there, sweetheart.”
Dad had tried to instill in Gray flawless manners. For the most part, it had worked, until lately, when Gray seemed to be impatient with everything and everyone, but no wonder. His life had been hit by too many hard events in the past year.
For once, Mom heeded Dad.
Audrey’s wide violet gaze flew between the two of them, and Gray again had the sense that everyone in the room knew what was going on but him. What?
Why would there be things in his family left unsaid? Why would Audrey know about them? She wasn’t part of his family. He’d never been friends with her. He’d spent some time with her father because Harrison and Jeff had been friends, but not with Audrey.
That strap fell from her shoulder again, snagging his attention. His mother popped up from the table and left the room to return a minute later with a small wicker basket from which she pulled a pincushion.
“Let’s fix that for you, dear. These boat collars are so attractive, but they have to fit just right.”
“I made it a little too wide,” Audrey said, “but didn’t have time to fix it before I left home.”
“Of course not, with your father requiring so much care.”
“I don’t see why he couldn’t have come over with you,” Dad said. “I count your dad a good friend.”
“I couldn’t persuade him to come,” Audrey said, distress in her voice. “He never leaves the house.”
He only half listened because he couldn’t stop staring at Audrey’s shoulder. He’d seen hundreds of shoulders. He’d had a healthy appetite as a teenager. He’d sneaked plenty of issues of Playboy into the house.
He’d had plenty of girlfriends, had seen beautiful—no, gorgeous—shoulders, so, what was it about Audrey? The retro clothes? The fact that she did nothing to flaunt her sex appeal? The fact that she just was sexy without even trying?
He didn’t even need to touch her, simply look. Men were visual creatures, and for Gray looking was an aphrodisiac. Foreplay. Imagining how soft her skin must be was pure pleasure.
He’d never known he could be satisfied just glimpsing skin, that even knowing he would never touch it could be a joy.
When Mom cinched the strap tightly and started to pin it, Gray yelled, “No!”
Three heads swung his way, all with wide eyes and mouths agape.
“What, dear?” his mother asked.
What indeed? There were so many whats. What was wrong with him? What had gotten into him?
What could he say? Don’t cover her alabaster skin? I want to ogle our guest for the rest of the night? I want to see how far that strap will slip? I want to know what she’s wearing underneath that’s keeping all of that amazing flesh in place? To see whether it’s practical or whimsical? Industrial or sexy? God forbid it should be sexy. It might kill him. Cardiac arrest guaranteed.
On the other hand, on Audrey, maybe even industrial looked sexy.
Where had today’s vow made in The Last Dance to keep his distance gone? Was his resolve so weak where Audrey was concerned that he turned to jelly just because of an ill-fitting dress strap?
She nibbled on her bottom lip. All of her lipstick had been worn away while she’d eaten, and her mouth was every bit as pretty without artifice as it was when painted.
He didn’t want to want Audrey. He didn’t need this flash flood of desire tumbling through him.
“Nothing,” he mumbled. “I meant nothing.”
They continued on with dinner, and Gray settled into a better, calmer place.
This was how he had always imagined it could be with Marnie. He’d tried to get her here many times, but had managed it only once.
The visit had been fine, but Marnie had been too formal, too aware that this was small-town America and she didn’t fit in.
She’d tried, he’d give her that, but she’d never wanted to visit again. And living here? Even knowing that his parents were so old and wouldn’t be around forever, and that he wanted to spend their last few years with them? Off the table.
Despite her quirkiness, Audrey fit in, not only into town, but also into this family. Into Gray’s home.
He picked up plates and carried them to the kitchen where he rinsed them, then loaded them into the dishwasher.
Straight-armed, he leaned against the counter, the edge biting into his palms, trying to figure out what was wrong with him, why a woman who was so far from his ideal could fry his brain so thoroughly.
He returned to the dining room with the pot of coffee and filled cups.
“Thank you, dear,” Mom said. “I know this seems rude, but does anyone mind if we take our desserts into the living room? I’d like to watch Say Yes to the Dress.”
Audrey popped up like a jack-in-the-box. “Yes! I’d love to.”
Abigail laughed, took Audrey’s hand and all but dragged her to the front room.
Gray followed slowly and asked, “Dad, are we really going to watch TV while we have a guest?”
“Are you kidding? Your mother is addicted to Say Yes to the Dress. She told me earlier that Audrey is, too.”
“Dare I ask what Say Yes to the Dress is?”
Just before they joined the women in the living room, Gray said, “Shoot me now.”
Three hours of torture later, Mom asked him to walk Audrey to her car. How was watching women shop for wedding and bridesmaids’ dresses supposed to be fun? Maybe if you liked shoving bamboo stakes under your fingernails.
Despite that, his mood mellowed and his mind eased more than it had in months, and it was because of Audrey.
The happiness she’d given his mother by enjoying the show, the pleasure she’d taken from it, made Gray want to do foolish things, like taste her full lips and lick her high cheekbones.
She walked beside him, her confidence in herself, her supreme belief that she was okay exactly as she was, part of the calmness that settled over him.
He’d never met a woman more comfortable in her own skin, less affected by fashion’s supposed ideal image, by society’s pressures to look a certain way.
Audrey, the woman who was supposed to be his enemy and who, for some nameless, faceless reason, terrified him, was a surprise.
She’d thrown him for a loop.
She sighed, and it sounded like contentment, as though all were right with the world. He knew it wasn’t. She had her father to deal with and him to fight about the land, but he’d noticed this thing about Audrey, this amazing ability to live in the moment. She took each second as it came and derived whatever joy she could from it.
“Your parents are the best people,” she said. “I love your mom.”
Me, too. “Thank you.”
She glanced at him, skin pale and hair jet-black in the gathering night. “For what?”
“For making her happy tonight.”
They’d reached the car, and only the most meager light drifted this far from the porch, so he couldn’t be certain, but he thought her smile might have been shy.
It enchanted him.
Before thought, before sanity, came an impulse so strong Gray couldn’t resist—to hold on to this lovely normal evening with both hands, because one day soon his world would explode.
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