These two were going to set the house on fire if I didn’t do something. I wasn’t sure I’d ever witnessed a conversation go downhill that fast, and I’d heard some things.
Amos and Rhodes were rookies.
Luckily for them, I had a doctorate in passive-aggressive and straight-up aggressive family figures. And this man wasn’t the woman who I’d thought of as my mother-in-law. I knew I didn’t have to spend the rest of my life kissing this man’s ass to be happy.
I owed them. I could do this.
I took the stairs as fast as I could and had just strode outside when I heard Rhodes’s strained, strained voice, spitting out, “—can look however he wants to look, sir.”
Yep, the house was going to get burned down.
And my garage apartment would go up with it.
I would tell myself later on I was doing it for me just as much as I was doing it for them, and that’s why I shouted, sounding like an out of breath maniac from taking the stairs so fast, “Rhodes, can you help me—oh, sorry. Hi.”
Amos’s eyes were wide, and I could tell he was trying to process what I was doing while being so surprised.
Standing beside a Mercedes G-Wagen, the older Mr. Rhodes was shorter than his son, but the resemblance was there in different ways. The same cleft chin. The shape of his cheeks. The beefy build. Especially the shape of that severe mouth.
And he was staring at me.
I had to use my powers for good.
Focusing on Rhodes, I saw the pensive expression on his face… the slight confusion there. The lines were there across his forehead. His mouth was pressed flat, but I doubted it was from me.
I was still looking at Rhodes when he asked, “What do you need, angel?”
“Nothing that can’t wait, sorry,” I said, hoping I actually sounded apologetic and not full of shit and winging everything. He’d called me the wrong name again, but it was fine. “Is this your dad?” I asked, trying to sound sweet so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea.
“Yes. This is Randall. Dad, this is Aurora… our friend,” Rhodes said softly.
His friend?
That might be more epic than being his girlfriend, honestly. Screw it, I’d even go as far as to say this might be more of an honor than being someone’s wife. What!
A big, effortless smile took over my mouth and, honestly, probably my entire face too as I decided right then that I hadn’t made a mistake coming over.
I was about to smooth shit over as much as possible for them. As long as Rhodes didn’t give me a dirty look that said beat it. I recognized that face on him.
“Nice to meet you, Randall,” I said, coming to a stop in front of the man who was standing at the bottom of the deck.
Then I went for it, laying it on real thick because killing people with kindness was so satisfying. I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him.
I was pretty positive I heard Amos choke, but I wasn’t sure.
Randall Rhodes stiffened under my arms, and I squeezed him tighter before taking a step back and thrusting my hand out.
The older man’s eyes flicked toward his son’s in surprise or maybe even disgruntlement for being touched by a stranger before he slowly extended his own hand and took mine. His wasn’t too firm or too soft, but I’d learned not to be the weaker party unless it was in my best interest, so I gave him a solid shake back.
“Nice to meet you,” I told him brightly.
The older man gazed at me like he didn’t know what to think before flicking his gaze back to Rhodes. “You didn’t tell me you were seeing someone.”
“We’re not together,” I corrected him, imagining for a second a world in which Rhodes wouldn’t kill me if I pretended to be his girlfriend.
Because I would.
But he would kill me, I was pretty sure, so we were going to stick to the truth. “But I wish, you know what I mean, Mr. Randall?” I snickered playfully.
The older man blinked, and I didn’t miss the long, inspection-like look he gave me. Not an old perv, but curious. Not dead. Maybe a little confused on top of everything.
Meeting Amos’s gaze, he gave me this bug-eyed expression that told me he might be having the time of his life.
“I apologize,” Randall Rhodes said, sounding cryptic and still confused. “My son doesn’t tell me anything.”
Shots fired.
I smiled about as sweetly at him as possible. “You’re both so busy, you don’t call each other much period, I’m sure. It happens.” He wasn’t going to put all the blame on his son.
The very good-looking older man’s face went carefully blank. Or maybe it was cautious.
Yeah, pal. I know your game.
“Let me put your bag in the house, and then we can leave for dinner,” Rhodes kept going, before angling his body toward me.
They were going to a dinner I hadn’t been invited to. I could read a cue. “In that case, it was nice meeting you, Mr. Randall. I will—”
Rhodes’s hand landed on my shoulder, the side of his pinky landing on my bare collarbone just a little bit. “Come with us.”
I jerked my head up to meet his gray eyes. He had his serious face on, and I was pretty sure he’d used his Navy Voice, but I hadn’t been paying enough attention because I’d been distracted by his finger. “I’m sure you three want to spend some quality time together….” I trailed off, cautiously, not sure if he wanted me to go or… not?
“Come with us, Ora.” It was Amos who piped up. But he wasn’t the one I was worried about.
Rhodes’s big hand gave my shoulder a gentle squeeze, and I was fairly certain his gaze softened, because his voice definitely did. “Come with us.”
“Are you asking me or telling me?” I whispered. “Because you’re whispering, but you’re still using your bossy voice.”
His mouth twisted, and he lowered his voice to reply, “Both?”
I grinned. I mean, okay. I wasn’t at a good part in my book yet, and I hadn’t eaten dinner either. “Okay then. Sure, if none of you care.”
“Nope,” Am muttered.
“Not at all,” Mr. Randall answered, still eyeballing me speculatively.
“I’ll wait out here then while you put his things up,” I said.
“I’ll come along. I’d like to wash my hands before we leave,” Randall said with a sniff.
Rhodes gave me another squeeze before he stepped aside and headed toward the back of his father’s Mercedes. In no time at all, he had pulled a suitcase out of the back, and he and his dad were heading inside the house. Amos stayed outside with me, and the second that door closed, I said, “I’m so sorry, Am. I just heard him being so rude, and you guys were trying to be polite, and I could tell your dad was about to lose his shit, and I just wanted to help.”
The kid stepped forward and wrapped his arms around me, hesitated for a second, then patted me on the back awkwardly. “Thanks, Ora.”
He hugged me. He’d fucking hugged me. It felt like my birthday.
I hugged him back real tight and tried not to let him see the tear in my eye so I wouldn’t ruin it. “Thanks for what? Your dad is going to kill me.”
I felt him laugh against me before he dropped his arms and took a big step back, his cheeks a little flushed. But he was smiling that sweet, shy smile he rarely shared. “He’s not.”
“I’m 50 percent sure it might happen,” I claimed. “He’s going to bury me somewhere no one will ever find me, and I know he could do it because I’m sure he has a bunch of spots picked out where, if it ever came down to it, he could pull it off. Why is your grandpa so mean anyway?”
Amos smiled a little. “Dad says it’s because his parents were really mean to him; then he married my grandma who was just as mean and crazy, but he didn’t know that until it was too late, and he’s spent his whole life trying to make more and more money because he didn’t have anything growing up.”
That would do it. For sure. And I wanted to ask about the crazy mother/grandma, but I figured we d
idn’t have time to get into it.
“It’s okay,” he tried to assure me. “You’re doing Dad a favor.”
I eyed him. “How?”
“Because he doesn’t talk, but you do, and you’ll save him from his dad.”
I grimaced. “Are you sure I should come to dinner? I don’t want to—”
The kid groaned and rolled his eyes.
I laughed and then rolled my eyes back at him. “If you’re sure. If he tries to drive me anywhere to dump my body, I want you to at least give me a nice burial, Am. I need my purse.”
“I’ll go get it,” he offered a second before he said, “Be right back.” He stopped suddenly and said, “Thanks, Ora.”
Then he took off. Running. Amos was running.
I hoped this went okay.
* * *
If I hadn’t lived through the tension of the day Amos, Rhodes, and I had done the four-mile hike to see the waterfalls, I would’ve been in for a real shock at the level of awkwardness that dinner with the two of them and Mr. Randall reached.
But my entire relationship with Kaden—having to deal with the Antichrist—had been preparation for this. And in another lifetime, I would’ve considered my relationship with that woman to have been training to deal with not just Mr. Randall, but every difficult person I’d ever encounter.
No fucking wonder why Amos and Rhodes hadn’t told me to leave when I’d come running over.
The complaining and criticizing started before we even got into Rhodes’s Bronco with Mr. Randall sniffing and suggesting, “We can take my Mercedes to be more comfortable.”
I had kept my mouth shut, but Rhodes—who I’d bet later on had heard this argument before—said, “The Bronco is fine.”
It was only the beginning.
I’d watched Mr. Randall out of the corner of my eye as he got into the front seat, and I climbed into the back with Amos. Five minutes later, it started up again with him saying, “I don’t think any of us would complain if you drove over the speed limit some.”
Rhodes didn’t even glance over. “I’m not speeding. I’m a peace officer. What would it look like if I got a ticket?”
“A peace officer?” he scoffed in this way that said he didn’t think very highly of his son’s occupation. “You’re a game warden.”
In my mind, it was time to tag myself in, so I piped up from the back, “A great game warden. One time, Amos and I were in the garage, and you would never guess what came up to us.”
Silence. And that silence continued even after I slapped my hand over my mouth and made a face at Amos who glanced up at the ceiling and pressed his lips together to keep from cracking up.
“Okay, you don’t need to guess. I’ll tell you. We thought it was a hawk, but it was not.” And then I rambled on for a good five minutes, telling him about the golden eagle and Rhodes laughing at me and how the eagle was still in rehabilitation but would hopefully get released soon.
I’d just asked about my majestic friend, and he had found out for me.
Eventually, Rhodes parallel parked off the main street and we got out, following him into the Mexican restaurant overlooking the river that I’d met Johnny at. Randall Rhodes sighed when we had to wait two whole minutes to get a table, while I asked Amos about school—careful not to bring up his music because I didn’t want the old man to criticize him about it. I might be the one to bury his body somewhere if that was the case. The two men just stood there, each purposely looking around and not speaking to each other, the tension suffocating.
On the way to the table, I spotted a few customers from the shop and greeted them, Amos hanging back with me. By the time we made it, Rhodes and his dad were standing there, and I knew for a fact I didn’t imagine Am pushing me toward his dad before grudgingly sliding into the seat closest to his grandpa and earning a “The lady sits first, Amos. How did Billy not teach you that?”
“My cousins would say I’m not really a lady,” I tried to joke as I stopped beside Rhodes since that’s where his son had aimed me. I smiled up at him, not sure if I’d done the right thing.
He pulled my chair out.
All right then. I took it.
None of them said a word as we looked at the menu. I snuck a glance at Rhodes, and he must have sensed it because his eyes flicked toward me. His mouth twisted just a little.
I took it as a sign. The more I talked, the less chances Mr. Randall had to be rude.
And that’s what I did for the next hour.
I told them one story after another about something that had happened at the shop. Amos was the only one who chuckled, but I did catch Rhodes’s mouth twitching a time or two. His dad, on the other hand, settled for focusing on the chips and salsa and looking at me like he wasn’t totally sure what to think. I didn’t think he meant for me to catch him, but his gaze bounced back and forth between his son and me way too often as well, like he wasn’t sure about us.
Mr. Randall got up to “find the facilities,” but I caught him actually paying the bill when I got up to go too. To avoid arguing with Rhodes? I didn’t know, but I thanked him on the walk to the car, and he simply nodded.
The ride back to the house was quiet, and I felt talked out, so I didn’t say anything. Amos was on his phone the whole time, and I took the opportunity, since there was cell service off the main highway, to finally check mine for the first time all evening. There were messages from Nori and my aunt waiting. I opened my friend’s first.
Nori: Nailed it [picture of arroz con gandules]
Me: [drooling face emoji] Please come cook for me.
She texted me back immediately.
Nori: Come visit me first. Yu’s still talking about how much fun she had.
That made me smile, and I opened the messages from my aunt.
Aunt Carolina: The antichrist just emailed me to ask for your phone number. She offered to pay for it!
Aunt Carolina: [picture image attachment of a screenshot of her email]
I blew it up and read it. And yes, Mrs. Jones had lost her shit. She was offering to pay my aunt for my phone number. Wow. That woman literally hadn’t heard the word “no” in years. It was kind of nice to know she was desperate since I’d blocked her on Facebook too.
Me: I’ve never felt so honored. A whole $500! WOWEE.
Mrs. Jones spent five hundred dollars on dinner. Really? That was nothing for her anymore.
I thought about that the entire ride back. About how one person could throw someone else away and then decide they wanted them back after all. For selfish purposes. Not because she was so fond of me or thought that I could make her son happy.
How could they think that I would ever forgive and forget? This wasn’t 50 First Dates. I wouldn’t forget what they’d done.
And they really thought so little of me? Of my family? That they would rat me out for five-hundy? For ten thousand, they totally would.
But then they’d take me to get my number changed and we’d go out to eat afterward and have a good laugh.
I stewed on that shit for way too long as Rhodes steered the SUV, which was really nicely restored now that I’d finally seen the inside of it, down the driveway. We all got out, and Am ambled toward their front door, pretty much dragging his feet. Rhodes hovered by the car, and Mr. Randall headed toward his SUV, muttering about something he’d left in it.
And I just stood there before saying, “Bye, Amos. Bye, Rhodes. See you guys tomorrow. Thank you for inviting me!” I wasn’t sure what their plans were, and I could only wish them the best.
Rhodes, though, turned and nailed me with his serious face, all angles and harsh bones. He was so close, and he dropped his voice so only I could hear him. “Thanks for coming with us.” I could feel the heat coming off his body.
“You’re welcome.” I beamed at him.
“I owe you one.”
I shook my head. “You don’t, but if you want to give me any skiing or snowshoeing tips, I’ll take them.”
Those incredible gr
ay eyes swept over my face, and it was his turn to nod. “You got it.”
We both stood there watching one another, the silence between us thick and heavy.
Lowering my gaze, I noticed his fisted hands at his sides.
I forced myself a step back. “’Night. Good luck.” Then I took another step. “Goodnight, Mr. Randall. Thank you again for dinner.”
The older man was already at his car with the driver-side door open. He seemed to stand up straight, but didn’t turn around before he replied, “You’re welcome. Goodnight.”
Rhodes and Am disappeared into the house just as I was halfway to the garage apartment when Mr. Randall spoke up again.
“Do they hate me?”
I stopped and found him standing between the opened door and the seat. The faint glow of the dome light illuminated him from the back, telling me he was looking in my direction. I hesitated. I hesitated big-time.
“You can tell me the truth; I can handle it,” Mr. Randall went on, his voice like steel.
And still, I hesitated. Then I pressed my lips together for a second before telling him, “I don’t think that they do. I didn’t even know up until about a week ago that you… were around.”
“They do hate me.”
“If that’s what you think, Mr. Randall, I don’t understand why you’re asking me. I told you the truth. I don’t think they do, but….”
“Should I leave?” he asked suddenly.
“Look, I know very, very little about your situation with them. Like I said, I didn’t know until a week ago that Rhodes—Tobias—whatever you call him, even had a dad. I’ve lived here since June, and I’ve never seen you before.”
Like his son and grandson, he fell back into silence.
“Do you want them to hate you?” I asked.
“What do you think?” he snapped.
“That you’re asking me a question, and now you’re being kind of rude,” I told him. “And that you were being rude to Am and to Rhodes—Tobias—and now you’re trying to turn this around and seem like the victim.”
“Pardon me?”
Oh man, it really was so much easier when I didn’t have to care about my future with someone when they were being jerks. “You criticized Amos. You talked down to your son. My uncle has three sons, and they all think he’s the absolute greatest. I think he’s the greatest. My dad wasn’t around hardly at all while I was growing up, and sometimes I wish he would have been. But he seems like a pretty decent man.
All Rhodes Lead Here Page 28
