Chapter Two
MaCee
Ugh, my head. Damn, what the hell did I do last night? I moan as I roll over onto my side and squint one eye open, then both eyes pop open as I look around. This isn’t my apartment. Oh, I remember, I moved back home. I let out a relieved breath, only to look around some more. I notice a large room with faded blue walls and a fan slowly turning in the center of the ceiling. It’s slightly messy with clothes scattered around the floor. Hold up a minute, this isn’t my bedroom either. I sit straight up in the bed and hear a groan from the other side. I look over to see a tan, well-muscled back of the male variety.
“Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit …” I jump out of the bed and grab my head with both hands as I start pacing the room.
What did I do last night? I remember the cotillion, and Justin giving me a splash of something that tasted God-awful, which I drank. Meeting Tyler, meeting Tyler! Oh fuck, I screwed the new guy after not knowing him for even twelve hours! I look down and notice I’m wearing a …
“Holy shit, a Longhorns shirt! Oh my sweet baby Jesus! A Longhorns shirt!”
Tyler sits straight up in bed and yells, “What! Where?” He looks at me and falls back onto his pillow.
Okay, think, MaCee. I have my panties on and a shirt, so hopefully, that means we didn’t have sex. I mean surely, I would be naked if we had, and I would hope I would know or at least feel something, maybe sore, anything. Hey, it’s been a while, okay? I sit back down on the edge of the bed and try to remember last night. How much did I drink? Obviously much more than I should have.
“A lot, and for some crazy reason, I felt it was my duty to keep up with you, and no we didn’t have sex. I was so drunk I couldn’t have managed it even if you weren’t passed out.”
Damn, I must be speaking out loud every thought crossing my mind. I look over and meet a pair of the most gorgeous blue eyes—well, they would be if they weren’t slightly bloodshot—and then I bury my face in my hands. Great, now I feel the need to go to the bathroom, and I don’t know where it is. Add another humiliation to the mounting number I have going on right now.
“The bathroom is through there.” He points to a door, and I head toward it.
“Did I say that out loud too?”
“No, I could just tell.”
I squeak as I race through the door into a large open bathroom which in is need of a major overhaul, leaving him laughing in the bed. At least one of us finds this funny. The first thing I notice is a huge claw-foot tub in the corner. I walk over and take a closer look at the tub. It has dust in it and there is no water going to it that I can see. Someone had good intentions but fell short of completing the project. I find the toilet off to the side and a freestanding shower beside it. There is a sink with a mirror on the opposite wall of the toilet and I notice my appearance for the first time.
“Oh my heavenly God.” I cannot believe how awful I look. My hair is standing on end, I have mascara and eyeliner smeared under my eyes, pillow marks on one side of my face, and what looks like dried drool coming out the side of my mouth. How embarrassing. He looks like a messy-haired sex muffin and I look like two-day-old road kill. I guess it was good while it lasted, or I’m assuming it was, considering I can’t remember any of it.
I pee and then find a hand towel to try and get the makeup and drool off my face. There is a brush on the counter beside the sink and I tame my hair enough so I can braid it and not look like I’ve stuck my finger in an electric socket. I find toothpaste in a drawer and finger-brush my teeth. At least now it doesn’t taste like something died in my mouth. I hear moving around in the bedroom, and about jump out of my skin when he knocks on the door.
“Hey, you all right in there? I don’t mean to rush you, but I’d really like to use the toilet if you’re done.”
And another humiliation is added to my pile. I rush out only to crash into a solid wall of muscle. So wish I would have hit that while it was still on the table, instead I drank away any chance of ever getting to know Mr. Hot Tyler Dixon. We do a little dance back and forth as I try to move out of the way and let him pass. He finally grabs my upper arms and leads me into the bedroom.
“How do you feel about the Dallas Cowboys?” What? That’s random.
“Take ‘em or leave ‘em. Why?” I ask.
“Well, if you want to change your shirt, I put out some different options and there are sweats too. I know they will be way too big but it’s the best I can do,” he says over his shoulder as he enters the bathroom.
Awwww, how sweet. I wait until he closes the door and take off the awful Longhorn’s shirt and toss it across the room. I pick up a Lone Star beer shirt and put it on along with the sweats, which I roll up at the waist and the legs and cinch the string as tight as I can.
“Damn, you really are an itty-bitty thing. Your heels added a couple inches last night and by the time you shucked them I was too wasted to realize how tiny you are.” He is right behind me, and I jump before I turn to face him.
He’s wearing a shirt now and gym shorts. I hate he covered up that hotness considering I probably won’t get to see it again after the things I can only imagine I did in my drunken state.
“Tyler, look, I’m so sorry if I did anything … Well, I know I did something to embarrass or ultimately humiliate myself last night. I’m having some trouble remembering certain parts.”
He looks down and gives me a grin that speaks volumes and increases my level of anxiety to much greater heights.
“What exactly do you remember?” I see a twinkle in his eyes and can only groan. I think for a moment before I start speaking, something I should have done before I started drinking.
“I remember leaving the cotillion and going to The Twisted Oak. Mitchell was there and seemed extremely happy to see me, which is weird because we were never that close in school and the last time I saw him he was getting yelled at by my mother for bringing me home drunk. Cotillions seem to bring out the worst in me.” Tyler taps my nose with his finger and turns to lead me out of the bedroom down a hall into a kitchen that looks like it’s seen better days. It’s large, but the appliances look like they’re from the seventies and are that funky green that was so popular then.
“Sorry about the shape of the house. I’m planning on remodeling.”
I shrug as I remember always thinking Fair Oaks was a charming old farmhouse at the end of a long tree-lined driveway. It has a porch that extends the entire front of the house with swings on each end. I’ve always thought it had a lonely, deserted look about it.
“Continue on.” He waves his hand as if encouraging me.
“Justin ordered us all shots of some sort and we drank to Melody, then Hannah ordered shots and we drank to cotillions and then I ordered shots and things go fuzzy after that.”
Tyler’s back is to me, and I can smell coffee brewing. Thank the Lord. If I didn’t know this man wouldn’t want anything to do with me after last night, I believe I’d keep him.
“Some more people showed up from the cotillion, and they bought shots. It seems to be a tradition to get completely shit-faced after the annual event.”
I nod because, yeah, it is. It’s like a slap in our parents’ faces, but each generation continues to keep the tradition of the cotillion alive, and each generation goes out afterward and has a hell of a throwdown. I know my parents did, and the generation before, and I’m sure the ones before.
“After things got to rocking, Mitchell brought out a karaoke machine.”
“That damn Mitchell …” Oh Lord, things just went south real fast. Anytime a karaoke machine is involved there’s bound to be trouble.
“Ain’t that the truth.” He starts laughing and shaking his head and then laughing harder.
“What did I do? Tell me everything, as painful as it is, I need to know.” I’ve buried my face in my hands and am now
talking through my fingers.
“You and several of your compadres really like the Spice Girls, and then there was some Prince which wasn’t so bad. You did ‘Baby Got Back’, and baby, you got back.”
I can only groan at this point. I smell coffee under my nose, which makes me feel somewhat better, and hear things being shoved in my direction. I fix my coffee the way I like it—with lots of sugar and creamer—and take a drink before I respond.
“I would say you’ve seen me at my worst, so I guess I can only go up from here.”
“Darlin’, if that was your worst I can’t wait to see your best.” I look up into his laughing face and see no condemnation. He seems to think we just had a good time.
“Last night was the most fun I’ve had since I got here. I actually think I needed it. I’ve had to deal with my dad’s sudden death and lawyers and then moving here. Please don’t regret last night because I don’t.”
I think I’m in love. Okay, maybe not love but serious like, he’s so perfect. I look down when I realize I may be giving him goo-goo eyes.
“Wait, how did we get home and why am I here and not at my house?” And why am I just now asking this question? My brain is not functioning at full capacity just yet, it would appear.
“Funny story about that.” He takes a drink of his coffee before he continues, “Mitchell brought us home after he closed because it was on his way, but he refused to bring you to your house. He said last time he thought your mother was going to shoot him, and he wasn’t taking any chances.”
I start laughing remembering that glorious night, which obviously wasn’t as wild as last night because I can still remember it.
“Did he tell you I was eighteen at the time? It was the first time I had ever been drunk, or should I say so drunk my mother was going to know what I had been up to.”
Tyler shakes his head. I start hearing a buzzing sound and find my cell phone on the counter. When I look down I see it’s my mother. I can’t suppress the groan. I motion for Tyler to stay silent while I answer.
“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” I roll my eyes at Tyler as he grins down at me.
“Hi, honey, I hope I didn’t wake you, but I wanted to remind you I won’t be home until late this evening. Aunt Faye and I are on our way to the art festival in Jackson and we left early this morning. It was so early I didn’t wake you, and I just remembered I forgot to leave you a note.” Dang, take a breath, woman. “I didn’t know if you remembered I was going to be gone. There’s leftover chicken from supper last night in the fridge if you get hungry. Liza won’t be coming in today.”
Holy shit, my mother is out of town! I do a little happy dance and then try to act normal on the phone.
“No, Mom, I’m sorry. I did forget you were going out of town. I’m glad you called. Don’t worry about me; I’ll make do. You and Aunt Faye have fun!”
“Thanks, hun. I’ll see you tonight.” She hangs up, and I’m so relieved not to have to face the music.
I know I’m twenty-two years old, but I was not looking forward to having to perform the walk of shame into my mother’s house and then listen to the lecture to follow about not being a common slut or how he won’t buy the cow if the milk’s free.
“I take it that was a good call?”
I grin at Tyler and nod.
“The best. My mother is out of town and doesn’t know I didn’t come home last night, or if she does, she’s choosing to ignore the fact. I know I’m an adult, but part of the reason I wanted to get out of this town so bad was my overbearing mother. After my dad died, she became very protective and focused all her energy on me. College was a wonderful escape.” I love my mother, but most of the time, we tend to not see eye to eye.
“I guess that means no walk of shame for you. Not that we had sex or anything, not that I don’t want to have sex with you. Don’t get me wrong, I wouldn’t have minded if we would have had sex last night. I find you very attractive and was asking Justin who you were before I met you last night. Okay, I’m going to shut up now.” Damn, that was some word vomit.
Tyler’s face takes on a slight red color. He leans over the counter and kisses my lips, shocking the hell out of me. I feel tingly the moment his lips touch mine, and he reaches out to place his hands on each side of my face. I open to let his tongue in and rub mine against his. Someone moans, or maybe it was both of us, as the kiss becomes more heated. We pull apart and look into each other’s eyes—his are slightly glazed. Wow, as far as first kisses go that was pretty amazing. I can’t say I’ve ever had a kiss, first or not, affect me quite like that. I may be slightly breathless. If he was trying to distract me from his earlier speech, call me distracted.
“I don’t want to be friend zoned, so let’s be clear; I want this to go in a different direction. I really like you, and I’m going to stop right here because I want to do this right.”
I grin at him with what I know has to be the goofiest look imaginable.
“You’re definitely not friend zoned. Now I’m going to finish my coffee, get my clothes together, we’re going to program our numbers into each other’s phones, and you’re going to drive me home. I’m going to be busy tonight, but tomorrow afternoon you’re going to see if Justin and the gang are getting together and then you’re going to call and ask me to go.”
He grins and grabs my phone, takes a selfie and then puts his number in and hands me his phone to do the same.
“By the way, what’s your mother’s name?” He looks slightly confused by my question, and I can’t say I blame him. It’s a weird question.
“Sara, and you asked me that last night. Why is it so important?”
Sara is a nice name. I can live with Sara. Oh crap, he wants to know why it’s important. Might as well confess, he’ll eventually find out anyway. Hell, he can just ask anyone in this town and they will tell him. It’s not like it’s a secret.
“You’re probably going to find this strange, but we have a weird tradition in my family and nobody is brave enough to break it. Every oldest daughter names her oldest daughter after her two grandmothers. Doesn’t matter which order, as long as the child is named after them. I never date anyone whose mother has an awful name.” I know that sounds horrible, but I don’t want to do to my child what was done to me. It’s not fun.
“Really? So we wouldn’t have a chance if my mom’s name was Gertrude?”
I shake my head sadly.
“As sad as it would be, no, we would not.”
“Your name isn’t bad, and it’s modern. I don’t get it.”
Damn, I was hoping he wouldn’t bring this up so soon.
“MaCee is the nickname my father gave me to cover up my real name. It’s Mabel Camilla. He combined the two and called me MaCee. It stuck, thank heavens. Most people don’t know it’s not my real name.” He grimaces when I tell him my name but doesn’t comment on it.
“What happens if you don’t do this?”
“Tradition says the women in my family had awful luck in love until one of my ancestors named her daughter after her two grandmothers, and her luck changed. They decided it broke the ‘curse’, and we’ve done it ever since. No one is brave enough to try their daughter’s luck.” I shrug my shoulders as he laughs.
“So, what you’re saying is, your first daughter is going to be named after her grandmothers, and you only date guys whose mothers have decent names.”
“Yep, that pretty much sums it up. I mean if I really liked you I guess I would maybe make an exception, but your mother’s name is great, so I guess you’ll never know.” I squeal as he picks me up and swings me over his shoulder to slap my ass in reply to my smartass remark. Once he sets me back on my feet I start gathering my things and get ready for him to take me home.
“One more thing, and I feel like an awful person for just now asking this, but what happened to Hann
ah?”
“A deputy showed up, loaded her up in his car and drove off with her. Oh crap! I hope she’s okay. I didn’t think anything of it last night.” The horror on Tyler’s face cracks me up. He really doesn’t know anyone or anything about this town.
“It’s okay. I’m sure it was her brother. Mitchell probably called him. Justin hasn’t been a very good friend to you. He hasn’t introduced you to anyone.” For someone who wanted to leave this town as badly as I did, I’m acting awfully happy to be back.
“It’s not Justin’s fault, I’ve just been so busy trying to relocate. Actually, he’s invited me to several things and I’ve put him off. Things are beginning to settle down now, so hopefully, I can start becoming one of the locals instead of Alan Dixon’s out-of-town son.”
“Oh, hun, you’re a local simply by being Alan Dixon’s son. Out-of-town or not, you’re one of us now.” I may have to question his sanity because he appears to be happy about this.
Chapter Three
Tyler
I drop MaCee off at her house, or should I say mansion, after we finish our coffee and wonder if I might be aiming above my pay grade. She lives in a classical southern plantation house with huge white Grecian columns, red brick exterior, a large wooden front door, and floor-to-ceiling windows across the front. It’s very well maintained and makes my house look like a run-down old shack. I pass this drive every time I leave my house and have wondered who lives here. I guess now I know and wonder how she feels about my place. MaCee doesn’t seem like she’s the type to look down on folks or that she really gives a shit about appearances, and I’m going to go with that. Besides, I have big plans for my house and know the old place has suffered from years of neglect by my dad. As much as I loved my father, I know he tended to not pay much attention to his surroundings, which shows in the state of the house and land around it. I definitely have my hands full in trying to whip it back in shape.
Mama Knows Best Page 2