And this was why she loved Sunny. No judgment. Granny Em probably wouldn’t, either, but McCall couldn’t say that for the rest of the town.
Or even for Austin.
“I’d like to keep this on the q.t.,” McCall went on, “but yes, I’ll teach you a few moves.” She winked at Sunny, but then McCall’s expression got a lot more serious. “There’s more.” Again, best to say this fast. “I became close friends with the owner of Peekaboo, Lizzie Marlow, and when she passed away last year, she left the strip club to me. According to the terms of the will, I can’t sell it or give it away.”
No gasp this time, but Sunny stared at her for some long moments, no doubt trying to absorb everything. McCall knew her sister would have questions, and then Sunny would soon come to the conclusion about the owner of a strip club getting involved with Austin.
It’d be a bad idea.
Wouldn’t it?
Of course it would. Well, unless McCall kept things to a fling, but heck, that would be bad, too. He was recovering from a horrible ordeal, and while sex might give him a temporary lift, it wouldn’t solve anything.
“Very few people know about me owning Peekaboo,” McCall went on when Sunny didn’t say anything. “Boo knows. So do the strippers who work there.” She frowned. “And Cody Joe.”
She could thank one of the strippers, Marla Devereaux, for spilling that to him. Apparently, the woman hadn’t taken McCall’s warning of “keep this hush-hush” to heart and had spilled when Cody Joe and she had crossed paths. That path crossing had likely involved sex, but at least Marla and Cody Joe hadn’t let the ownership info leak to anyone else.
“Wow,” Sunny repeated, the word coming out with a gush of breath.
McCall nodded. “I know. It’s a lot to absorb, a lot to take in.”
Sunny mimicked her nod and kept her gaze locked with McCall’s. She could see Sunny trying to process all of this. “I have a question,” her sister finally said.
Of course she had a question, maybe more than one. Sunny probably wanted to know how she thought she could go on keeping a secret like this. Because after all, secrets-keeping took its toll. And it would especially take a toll if McCall had to watch everything she said, everything she did.
“Funny Sunny time,” her sister announced. “Why do strippers wear panties?” Sunny followed with the punch line before McCall could even think to venture a guess. “To keep their ankles warm.”
The laughter burst from McCall’s mouth, and she thought that it might have been the first time she’d found a Funny Sunny actually funny. She would have asked her sister when she’d added adult humor to her comic routine, but all laughter faded when her phone beeped with a call, and McCall saw the name on the screen.
Alisha Lozano.
“Cody Joe’s mom,” McCall muttered. She would have preferred to let this go to voice mail, but it could have something to do with the foundation.
“You need some privacy?” Sunny asked.
McCall shook her head. She might want her sister’s shoulder if this turned out to be bad news. Plus, she’d basically just bared her soul to Sunny so there would be no need to keep hush-hush anything said in this phone conversation.
“McCall,” Alisha said the moment that she answered, “I need you to forgive Cody Joe.” The woman’s tone wasn’t what anyone would consider friendly, but this seemed even more brusque than usual.
“Forgive him!” McCall tried to clamp down the dart of temper that hit her like a boulder. Remember the foundation, she told herself. Remember that this woman could make things better or worse. For the sake of the foundation, McCall needed better to happen.
“Forgive him?” McCall repeated once she got her teeth unclenched. “Exactly what does forgiving him entail?” That had also come out as a snarl, and she had to rein that in. “Are you thinking maybe a statement to the media?”
Because if so, McCall could muster up that lie if she kept reminding herself it was for the good of the foundation.
“For starters, but you’ll also have to do something more personal than that,” Alisha readily supplied. “A media statement will go a long way in soothing over things with our donors.”
“I had already planned to do a phone interview with the press,” McCall agreed. She had a reporter friend who could help with that. “But what do you mean about something more personal?”
“Forgiving Cody Joe, of course.” Again, no hesitation. “Really forgiving him,” the woman emphasized. “That means you should be visiting him in the clinic so that everyone knows you two are still a couple.”
Another temper dart jabbed at McCall. “Cody Joe and I haven’t been together in months. You know that.”
“Yes, I know that my son apparently had some wild oats to sow. Well, the oats are all sown,” she said like gospel. “I’ve spoken to him, and now he understands that it’s time for him to settle down.”
It took McCall a moment to get her jaw unclenched. “With me?”
“Of course. Who else? Cody Joe and you are perfect for each other. I couldn’t ask for a better wife for him.”
McCall knew she should be used to the woman’s steamroller attitude, but it was pissing her off more today than usual. “Cody Joe got caught about to have sex with Miss Watermelon,” McCall pointed out. “I’m not going to forget the damage that caused to the foundation and possibly to my therapy practice.”
“That’ll all blow over.” Again, it was Alisha’s gospel tone. “I expect you to mend this rift with my son.”
This time, McCall’s jaw locked, and she could have sworn she actually saw red. “And if I don’t?”
“You will,” Alisha declared. With that order, she ended the call.
McCall stood there, staring at her phone, and when her fingers began to cramp, she eased up her grip. Eased the reins on her temper, too, and that temper flew right to her fingers.
She pulled up Austin’s text, her gaze skimming over the words again.
If you’re still in town on Friday night around six, do you want to have dinner at my place? Fairy dress and tutu optional. Austin.
McCall didn’t tamp down anything she was feeling when she typed, I’d love to have dinner with you. Pink tutu, okay?
And before McCall could change her mind, she hit Send.
CHAPTER SIX
“ON A SCALE of one to ten, how sure are you about this dinner date with McCall?” Shaw asked.
“Ten,” Austin immediately answered.
It was a lie, of course, and while he didn’t like lying to his brother, he also didn’t want to admit that his confidence rating was more like a three or four. But if Austin said that to Shaw, he’d have to justify why he’d asked McCall out. Shaw would get the attraction/possible-sex angle. Heck, he would even get the part about Austin wanting to catch up with an old friend.
What Shaw wouldn’t get was this had an “appease Edith” element to it.
Austin felt like crap for having that play into this, even if the playing into it was in a very small way. He’d indeed thought about seeing McCall, but there was little chance he would have acted on it this fast had it not been for Howie’s maybe it’s something you oughta consider.
While Austin waited for his brother to respond, he continued cooking and keeping his well-tuned parental ear turned in the direction of the girls’ bedroom. The twins were supposed to be stuffing their backpacks for their overnight with Uncle Shaw and Aunt Sunny, but if it got too quiet, Austin would need to check on them. For now, there was enough giggling and excited chatter that all was well. When you had three-year-old twins, silence and quiet usually weren’t good things.
“Ten?” Shaw repeated with all the skepticism of a big brother or a jaded parole officer.
Austin looked up from the pot of red sauce he was stirring and lifted his eyebrow. “You’ve got reservations about me seeing McCall?” He di
dn’t wait for an answer from Shaw. “Because if so, you’re kind of late. She’ll be here in about fifteen minutes.”
Unless she’d changed her mind. If she had or if she had doubts about doing this, he normally would have heard about it through the town grapevine. But Austin hadn’t told anyone other than members of his immediate family about the dinner date so there was no gossipy fruit on the vine. Apparently, McCall had kept things quiet, too.
Shaw shrugged. “It just seems like McCall’s got a lot going on right now. I’m surprised she’d want to fit in a dinner date.”
Austin stared at him and considered something. Shaw was bedmates with McCall’s sister so it was possible McCall had expressed her doubts about this date through a sisterly gabbing session. Doubts that Sunny would have then passed on to Shaw.
“Since I need to get some water boiling and then put on my tutu,” Austin said, “maybe it’s best if you cut to the chase. Are you worried about McCall or me?”
Shaw opened his mouth, stopped and did some gaping. “Your tutu?”
“It’s tonight’s dress code,” Austin said with a straight face. McCall had no doubt meant that “Pink tutu, okay?” part of her text as a joke, but Austin thought it might be a good icebreaker.
“I’m not worried,” Shaw insisted after a long pause. It seemed as if he changed his mind a couple of times on what to add to that. “I just don’t want you or McCall hurt.”
Austin wanted the same thing, but he didn’t see a chance of that happening. “It’s dinner,” he reminded Shaw. “I’m sure McCall’s no more interested in falling for me than I am in falling for her.”
That seemed to be what Shaw was waiting to hear because he nodded. So did Austin. But then his brother shrugged and added, “I’m surprised McCall’s stayed in town this long. Figured she’d be here just overnight like usual when she visits Granny Em.”
“Well, there was nothing usual about this visit. McCall’s sort of hiding out from the press.”
At least, that was Austin’s take on it. Shaw was right, though. Over the past decade and a half since McCall had graduated from high school and left, her trips to see Granny Em had usually been only for a night or two. McCall had been here for nearly a week now and probably wouldn’t be staying much longer.
A reminder that didn’t settle well in Austin’s gut.
Of course, her life wasn’t here. It was in Dallas with her perhaps odd counseling practice. In fact, she could be planning on going back to that life and her home this weekend. If so, this date could be her way of saying goodbye.
Shaw snapped his fingers, getting Austin’s attention. His brother stared at him, cursed softly. “You’ve got a glazed look in your eyes.”
“It’s from the red pepper flakes I put in the red sauce,” Austin said without missing a beat.
“It’s from lust,” Shaw argued. “Just a reminder that you might have forgotten—dicks don’t always make good decisions. Don’t let yours get in on any decision you make with McCall.”
Austin thought, all in all, that it was sage advice. Not necessarily advice that any functioning male had ever taken, but he made a sound to let Shaw know he’d heard those words of wisdom and would act accordingly. In other words, if McCall wanted sex, Austin would have sex with her.
To shift the subject, Austin was about to add another thanks for Shaw agreeing to take the girls for the night, but the giggling and running feet stopped him. Apparently, Avery and Gracie had changed the subject for him and were ready to go.
Sort of.
“Where the heck did they get the makeup?” Shaw asked, eyeing their red lips, green eyeshadow and attempted pink rouged cheeks.
“It’s not makeup,” Austin said. “It’s Magic Markers.”
Austin gave the girls his best glare while secretly admiring, well, whatever it was they were doing. It appeared to be some sort of attempt at costumes, complete with glitter winter knit caps that covered their heads. They were both wearing tutus, as well, which meant he wouldn’t be able to use one to impress McCall with his wit and complete confidence in his masculinity.
Outside, he heard a car turning into his driveway. McCall probably. Well, unless Cody Joe had returned for a repeat performance.
“Uh, will Magic Marker come off with soap and water?” Shaw asked.
“No,” Austin answered. “But hand sanitizer works.”
This was a déjà vu situation except the last time the girls had resorted to Magic Marker makeup, he’d been on the receiving end of the “makeover.” That’s when he’d been dumb enough to try to take a nap while the girls were supposed to be watching a movie.
“I’ll get the hand sanitizer,” Austin muttered, but the girls immediately objected.
“We want the fairy lady to see us all pretty,” Avery insisted with Gracie joining in on that.
To Austin, it seemed as if there was some other agenda behind that simple demand. But he shrugged and went to the door to answer it when he heard the knock. It was indeed McCall. So, not only hadn’t she canceled, but she was even a little early.
And she was also wearing a pink tutu over her jeans.
“The fairy lady!” the girls squealed before Austin could even get out a greeting. They swarmed toward McCall and hugged her legs as if greeting an old friend. And McCall hugged them right back.
“Did you put that makeup on for me?” McCall asked.
Gracie and Avery eagerly bobbed their heads.
“Well, it’s lovely,” McCall declared. “Hello, Shaw.” She hugged his brother, too.
No hug for Austin, but the smile she gave him was plenty enough. Of course, her mere breathing seemed to be enough to remind him that he was glad she hadn’t canceled.
“Something smells great,” McCall remarked, sniffing the air.
“Pasta sauce,” Austin supplied, “and I baked some breadsticks.”
“We getta have pizza,” Gracie piped in.
“With Nuckle Shaw,” Avery finished.
“Yep, Sunny’s picking up the pizza for us now. Come on, girls,” Shaw said to them, but the twins didn’t budge.
“I’m Gracie,” Avery volunteered, looking up at McCall.
And Austin got it then. It was the reason they’d dressed alike and were wearing the hats to cover their hair. They were attempting a switcheroo, and they usually got away with it with almost everyone but Cait and him. Now, though, McCall eyed Avery with what Austin was pretty sure was skepticism.
“Okay, Gracie,” McCall said, and she gave the girl a wink. She winked again when she greeted the real Gracie and called her Avery.
Again, the twins stared at her with some awe. Austin did, too. The girls were indeed identical in looks—except for their expressions. Austin had gotten very good at reading those, but most people didn’t see the differences.
“Time to go,” Shaw repeated. “There’s pizza, movies and a clean house waiting for you two to mess up.”
That caused some jumping up and down and giggling as if it were a fine joke, but there would indeed be some messes made. It came with the territory.
Austin kissed the girls goodbye, but there was no need to give them reassurances that he’d be at Shaw’s first thing in the morning to get them. This would be a fun outing for them, and they’d likely beg him to stay even longer with their uncle. Shaw, in turn, would be more than ready to hand them back over to Austin.
“I feel overdressed,” McCall remarked, motioning toward her tutu, after Shaw and the girls had left.
That gave Austin an excuse to skim his gaze over her body while he shut the door. He could hear the water boiling on the stove, but he didn’t hurry. Unfortunately, McCall noticed the slow as molasses gaze-skimming because her eyes met his when he finally lifted them.
“So, why exactly did you ask me to dinner?” Her voice had some smoke in it, and the sound created a stir in hi
s body. Of course, his once-over of her had done some preliminary stirring, too.
Austin considered how to answer that, and he figured this wasn’t the time for the truth—that Howie had put the notion of it in his head. Nope. That wouldn’t play well, and besides, Austin had taken the notion and run with it. Not because of Howie or Edith. But because it was something he’d wanted to do.
He wanted to do this, too.
And he leaned in and brushed his mouth over hers.
It barely qualified as a kiss, but that didn’t mean it had no punch to it. It did. Man, it did. A punch that was hard enough to make him remember that he shouldn’t have done it. A punch that was coated in guilt. Not just because he’d maybe gotten McCall here under false pretenses but because of those pictures on the mantel.
Because of Zoey.
Part of him still felt married to her, and that part of him pulled back. He would have stepped away from her, but McCall caught on to the front of his shirt and dragged him to her. Specifically, dragging his mouth to hers. Of course, she really didn’t have to exert much energy to get him heading in that direction. Apparently, lust and attraction could override even a double dose of guilt.
This second kiss wasn’t much more than a touch, either. At first, anyway. But she pressed harder, leaning in until the stiff netting of the tutu pressed against the front of his jeans. As if that weren’t enough contact, she touched his bottom lip with her tongue before she broke the contact and let go of his shirt.
“All right,” she said as if surprised by some experiment she’d just tried. Then she muttered some profanity. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t feel that as much as I did.” McCall looked up at him. “We didn’t kiss like that in middle school when it was scripted.”
“No,” he agreed. Then Austin added some truth by giving her back her own words. “I’d hoped I wouldn’t feel that as much as I did.”
She nodded and licked her lips as if tasting him there. That didn’t stop his body from begging for more. Nope. Didn’t help at all.
Chasing Trouble in Texas Page 7