by Larissa Ione
Saturday nights had always been his favorites. Hector would be gone, out getting trashed somewhere, which meant that one night a week, there was no tension in the house. No yelling...except for the occasional sibling bickering. On Saturdays, there was pizza, laughter, and sometimes a board game.
Until Hector stumbled in after the bars closed.
But Hector was gone now, and there was no point in dredging up these old memories. It was time to make new ones.
Chapter Five
Brittany’s stomach was doing somersaults.
When Ginny told her that the Prager sisters, Anna Mae and Rita Mae, were having a small barbecue in the courtyard of their bed and breakfast to celebrate Marcus’s return to Storm, Brit had jumped at the chance to come. Marcus had worked for them for years, and they both loved him like a son, so there was no reason Brit should be nervous at what amounted to a family get-together. But now that Marcus and Logan were entering through the garden gate, the carrots and ranch dressing she’d snacked on were starting to rebel.
Next to her at the umbrella-shaded picnic table, Ginny practically bounced in her seat. “Logan is so hot,” she said in a conspiratorial whisper, although no one was around. The Pragers’ niece, Mary Louise, was across the yard heating up the grill, and Ginny’s sister, Marisol Moreno, who had stopped by to say hi to Marcus, was doing just that.
Brittany felt a twinge of jealousy when they hugged, but she got over herself fast. According to Ginny, Marisol was dating Logan’s brother Patrick, although they kept it pretty quiet. Why, Brit had no idea.
While Marisol caught up with Marcus, Logan sauntered over to Ginny, and the two shared a kiss that made Brittany fantasize about kissing Marcus. Her lips actually tingled at the thought of his mouth on hers, his big body pressed against her, his strong hands roaming possessively over her skin.
Yes, please.
She absently fanned her face as Logan and Ginny broke apart.
“Hey, Brit,” Logan said, giving her one of his trademark lopsided smiles. “Glad you could make it.”
“I wouldn’t pass up an opportunity to have one of Rita Mae’s burgers for anything,” she said. Rita Mae’s homemade burger buns were practically legend in this part of the state. “You must have missed them while you were away.”
He made a dismissive sound. “I missed eating any food that didn’t have sand in it.” He cocked his head at the cooler on the patio. “I’m going to grab a beer. You ladies need anything?”
Ginny gestured to her cup of lemonade. “Thanks, but I’m fine. Brit?”
Brittany shook her head. She’d already had two Cokes. “I’m saving room for my burger.”
Logan left to grab a drink, and Brit snuck a peek at Marcus, his long legs encased in well-worn jeans that hugged his perfect ass, his upper body defined by a black tee that did nothing to hide every muscle in his broad chest and rippling stomach. A breeze ruffled his dark hair—hair her parents would think was too long and unseemly for a man. Of course, her parents probably thought everything about Marcus was unseemly. But Brit thought he was perfect, even his hair, which lent just a touch of boyish charm to soften his angular features.
He was surrounded by all the Prager women now, but for a brief moment, he looked over, and in that heartbeat of eye contact, Brit melted. Then he gave her a smile that nearly made her swoon, and she had to fan herself again. It was hot today, and she couldn’t even blame the blistering Texas sun.
“Ooh, look at that,” Ginny teased. “I saw a moment.”
More heat swept over her cheeks. “That wasn’t a moment.”
“My pregnant ass it wasn’t. He’s interested.”
As Brit self-consciously played with the laces on the bodice of her lime corset-style tank dress, she could only hope Marcus was taking an interest in her. It wasn’t that she was desperate...she’d just had a crush on him for as long as she could remember, and she wasn’t going to let this opportunity pass without a fight.
“We’ll see.” She turned to her friend, partly to avoid looking like she was drooling, and partly because she and Ginny hadn’t had much time to talk since she started seeing Logan. “So how’s it going at the Salts’ place?”
Ginny sighed. “Everything’s fine. It’s nice to get out of there, though. I know Celeste means well, but she smothers me sometimes.”
Brittany wasn’t going to offer the usual explanations about how Aunt Celeste was still mourning the loss of her son, so she was heaping attention on the woman carrying her grandson, because that was obvious.
Instead, she took Ginny’s hand and squeezed. “I’m here any time you need to talk. Is Lacey still being a twit?” Jacob’s sister, Lacey, had dealt with her brother’s death surprisingly well...at first. But now that the shock had worn off, things seemed to be going downhill.
“Ugh, yes. And with all of Celeste’s attention on me, Lacey is kind of being shoved aside. And the situation with Luis and Mallory isn’t helping matters.”
Yeah, that was a weird one. Ginny’s brother, Luis, had supposedly slept with Lacey while dating Mallory, which had caused a huge rift between the three of them. Brit had stayed out of it, but this was a small town, and eventually everyone ended up in the middle of everything. Or worse, everyone was forced to take sides.
Ginny waved at Marisol, who waved back as she opened up the picket gate to leave.
“And how are things between you two?” Brit asked. There had been some strain in the relationship between the sisters, stemming from the fact that years ago, Marisol had taken on the parental responsibilities after their parents’ deaths. The fact that Ginny had chosen to live with the Salts after Jacob died instead of with Marisol and Luis had only added to the strain.
“Good.” Ginny trailed her finger along a crack in the tabletop. “We talked it out. I think I kind of resented her taking over after our parents died, but I get it now. Impending motherhood kind of makes you see things differently.” Her smile brightened as Logan approached, beer in hand. Marcus crossed to them holding his own beer and shaking his head at his friend.
“Dude, this was an ambush.”
Logan clinked his beer bottle against Marcus’s. “Then we did it right.” He made an encompassing gesture around the yard. “I didn’t think you’d want some kind of big party, and the Pragers were dying to see you, so we all figured a low-key get-together would be perfect.”
“We would have invited your mom and sisters, but...” Ginny trailed off, and Marcus finished the sentiment.
“But you didn’t want to deal with Dakota’s drama. I get it, and this is great.” He looked over at Brittany and her heart did a funny little flutter. “Perfect, in fact.”
Brittany’s mouth went as dry as sand, and she suddenly wished she’d taken Logan up on his offer to get her a drink.
“Oh, hey, guess who I saw on my way over here,” Ginny said. “Loretta Vorderstrauss.”
“Holy shit.” Logan popped on his sunglasses. “I thought she moved to California with that religious cult.”
“She did. But I guess the compound was raided and the cult was broken apart. She’s living with her parents again.”
“Wow.” Marcus’s gorgeous dark eyes flared. “She always seemed so together. Wasn’t she best friends with Delia Bruce? Whatever happened to her?”
Logan paused with the beer bottle halfway to his mouth. “You don’t know?”
“I remember she turned up pregnant a month after graduation, but I don’t remember her dating anyone after you two broke up.”
“Yeah, well, turns out her baby daddy was one of our teachers. Remember Mr. Phelps?”
Marcus choked on his beer. “The social studies teacher? Holy shit.”
“Yep,” Ginny said. “But because the court determined that she was eighteen when they first had sex, he didn’t get prosecuted.”
“Tell me he’s not still a teacher.”
Brittany shook her head, remembering the scandal that fueled her parents’ and grandmother’s gossip for months. “He got fir
ed. He married Delia, though, and they moved away. I saw her parents a couple of months ago. I guess he got a job doing some sort of accountant work, and she’s working as a cashier at Home Depot. Delia’s mom said they’re getting divorced.”
“Well, there’s a shock,” Ginny said, sarcasm dripping from her voice.
The savory aroma of grilling meat filled the air, and Marcus made a hungry noise that struck Brittany in all her feminine places. “Smells like lunch is about ready. I’m going to go wash up.”
Brittany watched his fine rear as he walked toward the bed and breakfast’s back door and sighed when he disappeared inside. How was it possible that he’d gotten even more good-looking than he’d been in high school?
“You know,” Ginny said in a low voice, “there are lemon bars inside.”
Brit took the hint. “That sounds good. I think I’ll go get one.” Yep, she was going to jump at the chance to catch Marcus alone for a few minutes.
Leaving Ginny and Logan at the table, she entered the air-conditioned house. A cool blast of air gave her goose bumps as she made her way to the kitchen counter, where Marcus had set his beer bottle next to several plates of dessert bars, cupcakes, and cookies.
As she reached for a lemon square, Marcus came out of the bathroom down the hall. “You still have a sweet tooth, I see.”
“I can’t believe you remember that.”
“I don’t think I can ever forget you winning the Founders’ Day pie-eating contest.”
She nearly groaned. Wasn’t that a heck of a way for him to remember her; face covered in piecrust, hair drenched in blueberry filling.
“Let that be a lesson,” she said. “Never get between me and dessert.”
He laughed, a deep, masculine sound that rumbled through her in a wave of heat. “I’ll have to remember that.”
She eyed the lemon bars again, but decided they’d be too messy to eat in front of him. It was already difficult enough to simply talk to him without babbling like an idiot. “So how does it feel to be home?”
One powerful shoulder rolled in a shrug. “It’s taking a little getting used to.”
“Well, I’m sure that come winter, you’ll be glad you’re here,” she said. Something flashed in his eyes, something sad, she thought. Maybe leaving Montana had been hard for him. “Did you like Montana?”
“Not at first. You’re right—the winters are insane.” A wistful smile curved the corners of his mouth. “But once the snow is gone, it’s beautiful. The sky is every bit as big as they say. And the mountains...there’s nothing like it.”
She’d like to see the Rockies someday. Maybe learn to ski. “And ranch life agreed with you?”
“Yeah. Turns out I like it. And I’m good at it. My boss, Ian, said I was like some crazy cow whisperer.” He took a drink of his beer, leaving a tiny droplet on his lower lip and leaving her wanting to catch it with her tongue.
“I’ve never heard of a cow whisperer.” She hoped he didn’t notice the breathy hitch of lust in her voice.
Then he made the lust worse when his tongue slipped out to catch the drop as his gaze caught hers, holding her with an intensity that sizzled across the surface of her skin. “We’re a rare breed.”
Never in her life had the word “breed” made her think of naughty things, but then, no one had said it the way Marcus had, all husky and low.
“You know,” she said, keeping things as light and flirty as she could, even though her body was on fire, “there are plenty of ranches around here that need help. But you’d better get your accent back or no one will believe you’re a Texan. You sound like a Northerner.”
“Had to lose the accent,” he said, not missing a beat. “Those Montana cows couldn’t understand a word I said.” He winked, charming her so completely that she nearly giggled like a schoolgirl.
The back door opened and Mary Louise popped her strawberry blonde head inside. “Burgers are ready. Come and get it!”
“You heard her,” Marcus said, his smile socking her right in the heart. “Beat you to it.”
Laughing, she darted outside, but he managed to win the race to the condiment table. He spilled beer on himself, though, so that soothed her bruised pride a little.
Mary Louise brought over a plate of burgers and gave Marcus a shy smile as she set them on the table. Ginny had said earlier that she’d love to give Mary Louise a makeover to help bring her out of her shell. She was a pretty woman who probably got carded when she bought alcohol even though she’d just turned thirty, but she didn’t seem to know how attractive she was. With a little makeup, a haircut, and some clothes that would emphasize her figure, Mary Louise would be a knockout.
“If anyone wants a hot dog instead of a burger,” she said with an impish grin, “I’ll give you directions to Dairy Queen.”
Marcus snorted. “Oh, I remember the rule.” Wagging his finger, he mimicked Anna Mae’s lecturing tone. “If it ain’t fresh beef from the Double J Ranch, it doesn’t so much as touch my grill.”
Anna Mae took out her wagging finger, and everyone laughed as she playfully scolded Marcus. “Boy, you’re not so old that I can’t take you by the ear and set you to work cleaning the grill.”
Marcus bent down and gave Anna Mae an affectionate kiss on the cheek. “First of all, you’d need a stepladder to reach my ear, and second, I’m going to clean the grill anyway. Thank you for all of this.”
“You know we’d do anything for you.” Anna Mae reached up and pinched his cheeks like a doting aunt. “Now go eat before I fetch a stepladder.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Smirking, Marcus snatched up a paper plate and joined Brittany as everyone dug into the burgers, chips, potato salad, and baked beans.
As expected, Anna Mae and Rita Mae flitted around like hens herding their chicks as they pestered everyone to fill up their plates.
Food piled high, they all settled around a picnic table, Brittany sitting next to Marcus, their knees touching, and she was so nervous she could barely eat. Every time his hand brushed hers, tight, shivery arousal coiled in her belly and she lost the ability to speak. She figured that by the end of the day, he’d think she was an incoherent ditz.
Still, as they ate and reminisced about old times, she found herself having the best time she’d had in months. Maybe years. In fact, the time went by so fast that when she glanced at her watch two hours later, she was shocked.
Marcus patted her lightly on her thigh, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. “I’m going to get a soda. Want anything?”
“I was just going to grab one myself,” she said. “I’ll go with you. I have to wash my hands.”
They’d just reached the cooler when the back door opened and Marylee stepped out, looking perfectly put-together in a crisp peach blouse, a brown and peach pencil skirt, and sensible, low-heeled shoes. And somehow, despite the afternoon humidity, her gray hair was smooth and sleek, tightened into a bun at the crown of her head.
“Grams.” Brit froze mid-step. “What are you doing here?”
“Your mother and I need your help with some Founders’ Day snags we’ve run into. She mentioned you were here, and I figured that since I needed to drop off some forms with Rita Mae, I’d pick you up at the same time.” She pivoted to Marcus and offered him a polite, if forced, smile, the one she reserved for political rivals, media personnel, and people she didn’t like but had to be nice to in public.
Oh, God. Please be nice. Please be nice...
“Hello, Mr. Alvarez. I heard you were back.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“How nice.” Marylee’s gaze raked him from head to toe, the way she might assess a steer she was selecting to butcher. “You know, I’m so impressed with your mother’s work that if you need a job, let me know. I’m sure I could use another gardener or pool boy.” She turned back to Brittany, effectively dismissing Marcus after making sure he understood his place in her social hierarchy. Brittany wanted to shrivel up in a little ball and die, especially when she saw the bl
ack storm clouds gathering in Marcus’s expression. “Come, dear. We have a lot of work to do, and I promised your father we’d make some headway while he’s gone.”
“Gone?”
Her grandmother waved her hand absently. “He’s meeting with some community developers a couple of towns away. It can never hurt to court supporters, you know.”
Yes, Brittany knew. She couldn’t remember a time when her father wasn’t sucking up to someone. And as she turned to say good-bye to Marcus, she realized she’d have to do some sucking up, as well.
Because he was no longer standing there. In fact, he had joined the others and didn’t look her way again.
* * * *
Dakota sat in the corner booth of a tiny diner in the middle of nowhere, her gaze focused on Senator Rush as he popped an onion ring into his mouth. She’d finally texted him back, agreeing to meet him here after his appointment with some nameless supporters nearby. He’d tried to tell her about the brief meeting, but she’d mostly heard, “Problems with blah, blah, and budgeting issues and blah, blah, and if the library would only blah, blah...”
She’d pretended to be interested because he’d bitched several times about his wife never listening, but God, his job was boring. Not that she was complaining. She’d love to be a senator’s wife. And she’d be good at it. She’d look great standing next to him at public events, and when she put her mind to it, she could be tactful, too.
“I brought you something,” he said as he wiped his fingers on a napkin.
“You didn’t need to do that,” she said, even though he did. She was still fuming over the way he’d stood her up last night. Sure, he’d been busy putting out some sort of political fire, but he could have called long before he had.
Grinning, he pulled a jewelry box from his jacket pocket. He pushed it across the table, and she snatched it up with a squeal of delight. Inside was a delicate gold bracelet that matched her skin tone perfectly.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, holding out her arm so he could put it on her wrist. “Thank you.”
As his fingers deftly worked the clasp, she concentrated on the feel of his touch, the shivers he always sent over her skin. He’d said he didn’t have time for a quick stop at a motel, but maybe he’d change his mind. She hoped so because just being near him got her worked up and antsy, as if she’d die if he didn’t get inside her right away.
