Good Girls Don't Kiss and Tell

by Codi Gary

  He moved behind her and slid his hands up under the T-shirt and over her belly. She started a little, then leaned back against him. He tilted his head down so he could see into the bowl. A creamy, off-white batter was spinning around the metal mixers, and he frowned. He didn’t have a hand mixer.

  “What are you making?”

  “Belgian waffles.” She tipped her head back and pursed her lips for a kiss. He chuckled and obliged her before she turned back to her work.

  A woman’s whiny voice came out of his stereo speakers, and Eric squeezed her. “You know, if you’re going to cook in my kitchen and use my stereo, the least you could do is not play chick music.”

  She ignored his comment and started singing loudly again.

  His hand came up and clamped over her mouth. “Okay, you can listen to the chick music, just don’t sing it.”

  She extracted herself from his embrace to take the bowl over to the waffle maker, kicking him in the shin as she passed.

  He was rubbing the abused area when he realized he didn’t have a waffle maker either. “Where did that come from?”

  She closed the lid gently. “You didn’t have anything besides eggs, so I got up and went to the store. Then I stopped by my house for my waffle maker. You like waffles, don’t you?”

  “Sure, love them, I’m just usually waking up for lunch, so I hardly eat them. What did your parents say when you swung by and didn’t invite them to breakfast?”

  “They were already gone. They had plans with some friends in Twin Falls this morning.”

  “Ah.” He looked at the counter and several grocery sacks scattered across it. “That looks like more than just waffle items.”

  “Well, I figured since you were letting me crash here, I might as well contribute to your food stores.” She smiled. “Want some coffee?”

  She had gone out to get stuff to make him breakfast and made him coffee? Most women he slept with wouldn’t have bothered.

  Is that really all she is, though? Just another hookup?

  As he watched her move around his kitchen, opening cupboards like she belonged there, he knew she wasn’t just a convenient fuck, but was too scared to analyze his feelings further.

  “Do I have something on my face?” she asked.

  He jumped at her question. “What?”

  She was standing at the coffeepot, holding a cup in one hand and the pitcher in the other. “You didn’t answer. You want coffee or not?”

  “Yeah, that would be great.”

  She turned and poured him a cup, adding a little half-and-half just the way he liked it. He took the cup from her. “What are your plans for the day?”

  “Well, if you’re not busy, my parents asked if we wanted to do the tree today and decorate it tonight. We have a whole ritual, so if it’s too much—”

  “No, that sounds great. I’d like the chance to make up with your mother.” Actually, he was dreading it, but he found that he was willing to put himself in the most uncomfortable situations if it meant being with Gracie.

  “I did that yesterday,” Gracie said.

  “Did what?”

  “Smoothed things over with my mother.”

  “And? How did it go?”

  “It was pretty great, actually.” She pulled the waffles out of the machine and placed them on a plate. “I feel like yesterday was fantastic, as far as everything coming up Gracie.”

  “Oh yeah?” He grabbed the butter dish on the counter and a knife from the silverware drawer. He started buttering the stack of waffles as she made them, standing shoulder to shoulder with her. “And how about your new fake boyfriend? Everything great?”

  Eric caught the small smirk she tried to hide. “It’s okay.”

  Well that was a kick in the gut. “Just okay?”

  She shrugged. “Sure. I’m having a good time. As far as fake boyfriends go, you’re doing much better than Brad Gilbert.”

  “Who’s Brad Gilbert?”

  “The boyfriend I made up in eighth grade when no one asked me to dance at the graduation dance.”

  “Why didn’t they ask you to dance?”

  Her cheeks turned pink. “I sat on a candy bar during the ceremony in my white dress. When Gemma tried to help me get it off, it looked like I shit my pants. All the boys were making fun of me about it, and I ended up going home early. I told everyone that summer that I had a boyfriend in Canada named Brad Gilbert, and he would kick all their asses if they so much as looked in my direction.”

  “Did it work?”

  Gracie shrugged. “They left me alone, until we started freshman year and my boobs finally came in.”

  “Well, I’m glad that I’m doing better than imaginary Brad.” He kissed the side of her neck and whispered in her ear, “And that your boobs grew.”

  “For the most part. They still aren’t much to speak of.”

  “I like ’em. I’m more of an ass man anyway.”

  “Gee, thanks.” She unplugged the waffle maker with a jerk, and he could tell by her stiff posture he’d said the wrong thing.

  He dropped the butter knife and snaked his arm around her waist. “Hey, now, what’s up?”

  “Nothing. You basically just said you didn’t care that I wasn’t stacked ’cause I had a big ass.”

  Eric’s jaw fell so far, it almost broke. “Holy shit, do women just hear what they want? I never said that! I implied you have a nice ass, and I even said I liked your tits, so what—”

  Gracie started making a gagging sound. “Do not call them tits! I hate that word.”

  “Fine, breasts. I was trying to make you feel better! That was the only goal.”

  Her green eyes were watching him so intently, it made him squirm. Then she reached up and wrapped her arms around his neck with a sigh. “Sorry. I don’t exactly have a stellar résumé when it comes to relationships. I tend to sabotage them before they even get started. Even the fake ones, apparently.”

  Eric had never been really serious about anyone, except Megan Barlow, who he’d dated off and on for years after they graduated high school. She had moved to Montana after college, having no interest in settling down in Rock Canyon. No one had caught his eye seriously since.

  Until Gracie.

  “What time are they expecting us?”

  “My parents? Sometime this afternoon, why?”

  “’Cause I have plans for you.”

  He didn’t even let her react but reached out and dumped her over his shoulder, carrying her back to the bedroom.

  “But I didn’t get to finish my breakfast.”

  He slapped her butt lightly. “Don’t worry, it will still be there when we’re done.”

  That was the last protest she made as he shut the bedroom door.

  * * *

  Gracie was surprised when, after some incredibly satisfying sex and some reheated waffles, Eric drove them into Twin Falls, toward the industrial area. The day was clear and sunny, if blisteringly cold. She was glad she’d thought to pack a bag of clothes when she’d gone by her place earlier, including warm gloves and a sweater.

  “What are we doing?” she asked.

  “I just wanted to check something out.”

  He turned onto Victory Lane, and when he slowed down in front of People for Pets Humane Society, she reached out to take his hand.

  He parked the car and sat for a minute, staring out the windshield. He held on to the steering wheel with the other hand and seemed to have a hard time letting go.

  “You sure you want to do this?” she asked.

  He gave her a sad smile that broke her heart coming from such a big man. “It doesn’t hurt to walk in and see who they have, right?”

  Gracie knew that Eric had put his dog down and that it had been rough on him, but he’d never talked about it. Of course, they hadn’t really been on the best of terms anyway, but still, everyone knew it had hit him hard.

  Gracie was starting to realize that beneath all his macho crap, there was a big old squishy heart. And it s
cared her a bit. Pervert Eric was one thing, but sweet, sensitive Eric? She had no idea what to think of him.

  They got out of the car, and when Eric reached out to take her hand once more, she let him. Her body warmed against the cold as she sensed he needed her, and they walked inside hand in hand. The place was hopping with people and animals in the lobby, and as they waited for the receptionist to acknowledge them, Gracie looked around. A fat gray cat lay on the counter, tolerating the occasional stroke from whoever was standing there. There was a room with the door open and several people sitting in the lobby chairs, holding on to leashes or pet carriers.

  “Can I help you?”

  They stepped forward, and Eric said, “We just wanted to look at your available dogs.”

  The dark-haired receptionist smiled widely and pointed. “Sure, straight down that hallway, make a right and then a left through the door. How did you hear about our Whiskers in Wonderland event?”

  “The Rock Canyon Shelter,” he said.

  “Great, just let someone know if you need any help.”

  Eric and Gracie wound through the people, toward a wall of windows with adult cats. Some of them were sleeping, others were sitting there, watching them pass.

  “What’s Whiskers in Wonderland?” Gracie asked as they walked through the door.

  “I guess someone paid all the animal’s adoption fees so they could get homes by Christmas.”

  Gracie’s heart melted at the generosity. “That’s amazing!”

  “Yeah.” They reached the end of the hall, where the walls were lined with chain link kennels. Several people were milling down the aisles, looking into the cages, and Gracie pulled Eric forward.

  The first kennel was empty, but the second had a small dog with big ears. His ID papers had an adoption sticker on top, so they kept walking. There weren’t very many dogs left, which made Gracie very happy.

  “I guess they’ve had a good turnout, huh?” she said.

  They got to the end of the row, and Gracie stopped, making a little squeaking noise. “Oh, look!”

  Several puppies climbed the gate of the kennel, and Gracie squatted down, releasing Eric’s hand. “Aren’t you adorable? Are you all adopted?”

  She turned to ask Eric to check, but he was gone. She stood up and spotted him on the other side, bent down with his hands in a cage. She couldn’t see what kind of dog had grabbed his attention, so she followed him over.

  She stopped behind him, a little surprised. She’d pictured Eric getting taken in by a bully breed or a big shepherd. This dog was pure black and looked young, probably less than a year. His fur was thick and soft looking, and his head looked like a Q-tip. He had eyes the color of a copper penny, and the only indication that he knew they were there was the way he leaned into Eric’s scratching fingers.

  Gracie fingered his paperwork. Black lab mix, approximately eight months. Found running along Highway 93.

  “Looks like he’s not ready for adoption yet. They’re waiting to see if his owner will claim him.”

  Eric stood, pulling his hand out, and the dog leaned against the gate, looking up at him sadly.

  “Hi, can I help you?” one of the kennel techs asked. She had long brown hair and a splash of freckles over her nose and cheeks.

  “This guy. How long is he on hold for?” Eric asked.

  “Let’s see.” She pulled his paperwork down and scanned it. “Looks like he’ll be available on Monday.”

  “Are there any applications on him?”

  Gracie watched the intensity on Eric’s face and glanced down at the dog, whose tail had started to wag, almost like he knew what Eric was doing.

  “I can check for you. Would you like to fill out one?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “I’m afraid that the Whiskers in Wonderland pricing will no longer be available on Monday,” she said, as if that might change his mind.

  “That’s fine, I’d like to pay his adoption fee today, and if his owners do claim him, you can put it toward another animal.”

  The woman got a dreamy look on her face as she smiled at Eric. “That is so sweet. Just follow me.”

  A flash of jealousy shot through Gracie as the woman continued to chat with Eric the whole way up to the front counter, and Gracie found herself moving a little closer to him. While Eric filled out his paperwork and paid for the dog’s adoption, Gracie watched the women in the room. Several of them were discreetly checking Eric out, and she really couldn’t blame them. He was tall, built, handsome, and obviously loved animals. They didn’t even know he was successful in business and nice…

  Gracie’s stomach twisted up in knots. Was she having feelings for Eric? Like…deep, loving types of feelings?

  Her palms grew damp with sweat, and she danced on the balls of her feet as she waited for him. She tried to calm the panic in her chest by being reasonable.

  Of course she was having feelings for Eric. He’d been there for her during a difficult time. What she was experiencing was gratitude and friendship. It was natural to care about a wonderful man who supported you and who was helping you.

  But as Eric took her hand in his, her skin tingled where their palms met, and her belly did a little flip-flop.

  “Thanks for going with me today, Gracie Lou,” he said as he held the door for her.

  She looked up into his eyes, at the warmth that had nothing to do with lust, and swallowed hard.

  “Anytime, Eric. It’s what fake girlfriends are for, right?”

  He didn’t smile at her joke. Not even a twitch.

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  “In my experience, good things happen just before stuff really hits the fan.” - Miss Know-It-All’s Gossip Column.

  On Tuesday morning, Gracie sat at the second table near the entrance of Starbucks, anxiously watching the door. She cupped her tall peppermint mocha in her hands, hoping the warmth would soak into her chilled skin. She knew it was nerves more than the air that was turning her skin to ice. She was tired and anxious and already knew she looked like hell. That was what happened when you panicked over nothing.

  Gracie had stayed at her place Saturday night and hadn’t been back to Eric’s since. He’d seemed a little puzzled by her sudden desire to suffer the stiff lumps of her living room couch, but when she’d mentioned she had to be up at four thirty every morning while Tanya was on vacation this week and that she wanted to spend a little more time with her parents, he’d just accepted it. No questions, no asking if everything was all right. He’d just kissed her on the forehead after the tree had been trimmed and told her he’d talk to her the next day.

  And he had texted her, had invited her over on Monday night for family dinner again, but she’d declined. He’d come in a couple of times for coffee, and they’d texted and talked on the phone, but she kept making excuses for why she was so busy. She was being an insane coward, she knew that, but it was almost as if she was possessed by the need to run from him and her feelings.

  A woman who appeared in her late sixties came up the sidewalk, her dark hair striped with silver and her tan skin wrinkled. She stepped through the glass door, and her gaze immediately landed on Gracie.

  Gracie stood as the woman approached her. “Margaret?”

  The woman held out her hand to Gracie. “Yes, and you must be Miss McAllister.”

  “Gracie, please. Can I get you a coffee?”

  “No, that’s all right, honey. I already had some.” Margaret took off her coat and draped it over the back of the chair. “I just thought this would be a quiet place for us to talk.”

  “Yes, of course.” Gracie sat down across from her, anxious for any news about Pip. “How is Jocelyn?”

  “Oh, she’s doing all right. Quiet, like I said.” Margaret hesitated, then cleared her throat. “I think she misses you.”

  Gracie wasn’t sure how to respond at first, so she just went for honestly. “I miss her too.”

  “I don’t want you to think me heartless, not bringing her wit
h me today, but I wanted to meet you myself and get a feel for you as a person.”

  “Believe me, I understand. She’s your family.”

  Margaret grimaced at the word, and Gracie wondered what she’d said wrong.

  “Well, I’m a little thin on relatives willing to step up and help me with her, even her own grandmother, my eldest daughter.”

  Gracie’s jaw tightened. She couldn’t imagine not being there for her family, especially if they needed her.

  “I’m so sorry to hear that,” Gracie said. “I was a little surprised to find out you were her great-grandmother.”

  “Well, I had my daughter when I was barely twenty, and my daughter had my granddaughter when she was just sixteen. I guess you could say I was the only one who ever had my life together; Lord knows all of my children seem to have struggled through life and their children, well…” Margaret shook her head. “I was ashamed when I heard what my granddaughter did to Jocelyn, leaving her with that woman. Makes me so mad and sad at the same time.” Margaret seemed to get a hold of herself. “But I don’t mean to burden you with all my family drama.”

  “I don’t mind. I was curious about you all, but I am sorry that your children aren’t stepping up to help you.”

  Margaret shrugged. “There’s nothing I can do about it now. I thought I raised them better, but apparently, I failed.”

  The older woman’s voice was so dejected that Gracie reached out for her hand to squeeze. “You know, sometimes kids are just screwed up through no fault of their parents’.”

  “Well, I wish that were true, honey.” Margaret used her free hand to wipe at her wet eyes. “You’re a good soul, you know that? I could tell over the phone I was going to like you right off.”

  “Thank you, I appreciate that.”

  “Which is why I want you to adopt Jocelyn.”

  Gracie jumped in surprise. “But…why? Don’t you want her?”

  “Of course I do. She is the sweetest thing, but I… The week before Jocelyn came to live with me, I had some tests run. Turns out I won’t be around to raise Jocelyn like I’d hoped.”

  Gracie’s chest ached for her, and she put her other hand over their clasped ones.