Legally in Love Boxed Set 1

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Legally in Love Boxed Set 1 Page 60

by Jennifer Griffith


  He steered them in a big hurry back onto the freeway while Piper felt her hands tighten into fists. Puerto Rico!

  “I’ve never left the continental U.S. Oh, except for being born in New Zealand, apparently. Thanks a lot for not telling me, Mom and Dad.”

  Where was he taking her? Where, exactly, would someone park a corporate jet? They weren’t headed toward the airport.

  “Wait. They didn’t—what?” Zach took his eyes off the road to stare at Piper, and they almost swerved into a semi. “They never told you where you were born?”

  “Not until I got the deportation letter.” Frustration swelled in her. This was the right time to tell Zach about her felonies—unwitting felonies, albeit—but Teacup yapped. “Oh, Teacup, are you all right with this little plan? Daddy’s taking us to Puerto Rico.”

  He got a text from Cora and glanced at it. “The flight will be ready at midnight.”

  “Midnight! So soon? I mean—” Piper’s stomach did three flips. That was only eight hours from now. She and Zach and the ocean and the warm waves and the island breezes. It seemed like a combination lethal to all her resolves.

  ∞∞∞

  For some reason, Piper hadn’t taken to Zach’s honeymoon suggestion like he’d expected, despite the fact that Agent Valentine’s car had decorated their driveway like a big black cloud.

  “Are you okay?” Zach let up on the gas, not sure where he was going anyway.

  “I mean, I know we have to do this. Believe me, seeing Valentine’s spy parked in the driveway about gutted me, but…” She hiccupped, as if searching for words. “But what about Teacup?” The Maltese nestled up against the side of the cage, its fur pressing Piper through the cage, happy as could be. The sight warmed him. “Zach, we can’t take her on a plane. What if she hates flying?”

  She’d made a valid point. Both of them had seen Teacup’s bad manners on full display at the vet. An airplane ride that long could be a nightmare for the crew if Teacup didn’t take to the skies in a friendly fashion. Zach might lose his corporate jet privileges forever, and sour his chances at the partnership at the same time if Teacup decided to damage the leather seats with her claws.

  Piper must not have been as averse to the honeymoon trip itself, because she offered a suggestion, rather than just nixing the idea.

  “I’d say we could leave her with M or with Birdie, but M is allergic, and Birdie has cats.”

  “Of course she does.” Birds would have cats. “There are boarding places. Kennels.”

  “Be honest. How would that look?” Piper raised an eyebrow at him, and he felt the weight of her gorgeous green eyes. “Buy dog, take to kennel within seventy-two hours? People get defensive about the appearance of pet care, even though we love Teacup. Leaving her at a kennel goes against what we’re trying to accomplish. Plus,” she looked down and petted the dog, “I’d hate to leave her with a bunch of strange dogs and with kennel employees with too many dogs to care for. What if she didn’t get enough personal attention?”

  Zach reluctantly agreed. As a rancher’s son, he’d always been taught to treat a dog like a working part of the ranching operation, with a job to do, and not to get too attached. But Teacup was different.

  “By this time of day, it’s too late to book a pet boarding anyway.” It was almost dinnertime. The jet would have a hot meal, but that was hours away. “I’d call and ask, but Grandma Vada’s lifestyle is not conducive to small dogs needing attention.

  “Even for two days?” Piper asked, her voice filled with worry. “Teacup liked her leather jacket, remember?”

  They drove back toward the center of the city, away from their pretty little home in the suburbs. In just hours he’d have Piper on a plane to an island. If they could figure this hitch out. The dog was a key element in their proof of “real marriage” plan, but it came with bad timing.

  Piper looked over at him with a hesitant glance.

  “What about you parents? Would they—?”

  His parents! Whoa, no. Absolutely not. Zach’s stomach clenched. Taking Teacup to them would mean taking Piper to the Double Bar T, showing her the remnant of what his life had been. The devastation there was so utter that he’d gone years without visiting while the sun still shone.

  No.

  “Are they too busy, do you think? They ranch, right?”

  “They—” No plausible excuse sprang to mind. They are unimpressive when it comes to taking responsibility at this point? “I wish you could have met them five or six years ago.”

  “But do you think they’d take care of her?”

  He swallowed hard and nodded, begrudgingly circling back around for the freeway entrance.

  ∞∞∞

  He hadn’t been here during daylight hours in a long time. Now, it was coming on sunset, and the fiery horizon echoed the ghosts of the flames that had burned the Double Bar T years ago. Zach had only seen the embers—and the aftermath—when he showed up a couple of hours after the fire trucks left their ashen, muddy mess.

  Zach had been working as a first year associate, his first big case. He hadn’t answered his phone call from his mother. Meanwhile, his family home had been reduced to cinder and ash.

  “Is all this land yours?” Piper gazed out, not in derision, but in wonder. “How far does it stretch?”

  The Double Bar T Ranch, no matter how neglected and dilapidated, still had an impressive number of acres.

  “From here to those foothills.”

  Piper caught her breath. “All of that? Are you serious?”

  He was serious, as was the state that acreage lay in. The horses were gone, the cattle, too. All the animals had been sold after the farm equipment went up in flames. Fire insurance would have paid for their replacement, for the rebuilding of the barn, the house, the business, even Dad’s classic Firebird. But something else burned up that night, something far less replaceable than a tractor or even a rare vintage Pontiac.

  Now the money languished in that account, the one Zach used for their weekly upkeep. But they refused to manage even the small things like grocery shopping. Only the cable bill got paid religiously, so Dad could watch his late night shows.

  But now they pulled further into the yard, and the state of things loomed gloomy and forlorn. It berated him for his negligence. Zach’s soul crumbled like the first time he’d seen it, when the steam still hissed as it rose from the wet ashes.

  “They live in this trailer.” He pulled up next to the single-wide. Yeah, he probably should have called before coming to warn them he was bringing someone, but it was Friday evening, his usual visiting hours, and there was every chance they wouldn’t do anything different even if he was bringing Piper.

  He’d gotten married—without inviting them, without even telling them. For obvious reasons, that had been the case, but still, swallowing those facts went down like chalk.

  Zach parked, staring at the blaze of orange on the horizon. He didn’t get out. Not yet.

  “What do you think they’ll say about taking care of Teacup?” Piper pulled the pup from its cage now that they were stopped. She tucked the dog up close to her chest. Zach reached over and petted it, but he didn’t try to take it from Piper. It was in its happy place against her chest. Yeah, that did look like a happy place. Zach could probably use a dose of that embrace himself, to fortify him for what lay ahead right now.

  “Zach? You seem hesitant. Maybe we should forget asking them to keep the dog. I don’t want to put them out. I mean, I also don’t want the first time I meet your family to be by asking for a favor.”

  Zach took a cleansing breath.

  “Don’t worry about that. Let’s go.” He came around and got her door. “Let’s do this: if Teacup doesn’t turn into a barking maniac when she meets them, we’ll ask the favor. Otherwise, we’ll take her on the plane.”

  From the look of horror on Piper’s face, she liked that Teacup-in-Flight idea about as much as he did.

  “What if we lose her in Puerto Rico? I’m s
tarting to get attached to her.”

  “Let’s just see.”

  Zach wished the sun would just set already, so he wouldn’t have to see the devastation of the Double Bar T at full view. Now he realized, besides his work hours, why he always subconsciously chose to come here by night.

  “Hey, Mom.” Zach entered first, letting Piper and Teacup hang back at the top of the creaky lean-to steps. He shouted over the high volume of the TV in the main living room as he entered the trailer. “Wheel of Fortune on now?”

  “It’s over. We’re watching Jeopardy. Well, your dad is, and he’s shouting all the wrong answers, as usual.” Mom came over and hugged him. As she did, she caught sight of Piper over his shoulder. “Oh. You’ve brought someone with you.”

  “This is Piper.” Zach stepped back and beckoned for her to come in. He almost added my wife, but it lodged in his throat and didn’t make it out. Because she’d have that title for how long? Only long enough to break his mom’s heart.

  “Look at your green eyes. They’re so pretty. Did you know that green is the rarest color of eyes?” Mom loved that bit of trivia, didn’t she. “And look at your little dog. That’s a Maltese. They’re named for the Island of Malta, I believe, which is off the coast of Italy. You’re not a dog breeder, by chance, are you?”

  Because if so, Zach was sure Mom would have a lot of trivia to share with Piper about dogs, and they might miss their flight to Puerto Rico—and possibly the next week of work.

  “Piper’s a chef, Mom.”

  “Have you eaten yet?” Piper asked. “I’ll be glad to whip up some dinner. Zach and I came starving.”

  At this, Zach’s spine jerked straight. The fridge. She’d see how empty it was if she went in there. Then she’d open the cupboards and know—or at least suspect—the level of dysfunction going on here. He never should have brought her here. Not without some kind of explanation to prep her.

  “I’ll see if Libby wants to go shop for dinner ingredients with me, depending on what you want me to make.” Piper sounded so bubbly, so unfazed by the obvious disarray of his family. “Zach told me all about her.”

  “Oh, we have a fridge full of food. Just use whatever.” His mom waved them off, not even responding to or introducing herself to Piper. Yeah, this could totally be going better. “Libby? Can you come help with dinner? Zach brought someone you ought to meet.”

  In wandered Libby, her nose in a book, but she peeked over it, her eyes skeptical.

  “I heard you all out here.” Then she gasped, staring at Piper. “Who’s this?”

  However, instead of greeting Piper, Libby dropped her book on the plant stand beside the front door and pulled Teacup straight from Piper’s arms.

  “Aren’t you a pretty one? Aren’t you? What a pretty doggie. Can you come and be my doggie? Even for a little while?” She had it up by her face and was rubbing its fur against her cheek.

  Wonder of wonders, Teacup did not bark, not even a little yap.

  “Do you like her? She seems to like you.” Piper reached out and petted the dog. “We just got her this week, but it turns out we can’t take care of her for the weekend. Terrible timing.”

  “I’m taking her.” Libby had her eyes shut, the dog already half her own. “Don’t even start arguing. I’ll feed her some…” She glanced around, at a loss.

  “Don’t worry,” Zach said. “We ran past the pet store on the way here. She has a bed and some food out in the truck.”

  Libby just nodded and loved on the dog. Zach glanced over at his dad, who had started shouting at the television now that a commercial break was over. Libby wandered away with the dog. His mom had gone absent, looking out the window. She did that a lot these days.

  Zach reached over and hooked his pinky finger through Piper’s.

  “This,” he waved to them all and spoke softly, “is my family.”

  Piper surveyed them.

  “What they need is a good supper.”

  Zach told her to wait there. He slipped into the kitchen and opened the fridge. Nope. Not surprised. Nothing in there but a half-empty can of Coca-Cola and an expired bottle of pink liquid antibiotics.

  It was worse than last time. Not even mealy apples for the taking. How did they keep Libby alive? He knew he’d left three cases of canned soup a few weeks ago, but come on. It was one thing to starve themselves, but their daughter? If it weren’t for the school lunches Zach had set up for her, he didn’t know where she’d be.

  “How near is the grocery store?” Piper stepped up beside him, her warmth on his arm. “I’m starving. So are you. And I’m a fast cook when I want to be. Efficient. Not everything has to be gourmet Chilean sea bass.”

  “We could do take-out. We could even just go eat. It’s hard to tell whether or not they’ve had dinner yet. Can of soup, maybe.” Since there was clearly nothing else. He suppressed the urge to open the cupboard to double check.

  “No.” Piper set her jaw. “What they need is a home cooked supper.”

  Forty minutes later, they’d cleared out half the shelves at the nearest grocery mart and were back in his mother’s kitchen.

  Piper spread all the ingredients for the meal on the counter. She instinctively knew which drawers held knives and cutting boards and cook pots, and began assembling things.

  Meanwhile, Zach filled the fridge with the rest of the foods she’d requested he buy, food not part of tonight’s meal: prepared tubs of potato and macaroni salad, fried chicken from the grocery store deli, a spiral cut ham, rolls from the bakery, more cans of Coke. Some fruit.

  “It’s not all fresh, exactly, but ready-made food takes no thought. They’ll eat. It will help.”

  She didn’t say anything else about them, or their obvious state of deterioration. She didn’t have to. To Zach it was obvious that she’d assessed it and come to her own diagnosis and remedy. Rather than talk it into the ground, Piper set to work chopping tomatoes, onions, lettuce and avocado, all while frying up ground beef and seasoning it.

  “Nobody can resist a taco.”

  Cumin, garlic, onion. The best scents filled the whole house.

  “At least not in Texas.” He snitched a wedge of avocado when her back was turned. Food of the gods, for sure. “Peace, love and tacos. I’m thinking about having that motto spray painted on my truck.”

  “Bad idea.”

  “Don’t dis the taco.”

  “I’m saying it’s a bad idea because then someone will agree so much they’ll try to steal your truck, especially if you have to park downtown.” She stirred the beef and heated up the oil for frying the corn tortillas. “San Antonio loves its tacos.”

  After another ten minutes, she’d created a stack of tacos, about fifty high, and poured a batch of fresh salsa out of the long-neglected blender she found under the sink into a shiny metal bowl. It looked like a gallon of salsa—which was probably only about half as much as he’d want to chug-a-lug, judging from the fresh cilantro wafting from it.

  “Dinner is served.” Piper placed the last dish on the table and put her hands on her hips. She looked like a domestic goddess, and her creation was beautiful.

  “It’s incredible.” Piper was incredible. If anything could serve as food therapy, it was this food. This girl. This love. Because he could feel the love she’d poured into these tacos. He hasn’t been kidding when he’d said peace, love, tacos.

  Then Zach did the most courageous thing he’d done in weeks—make that years: he ventured between his father and the television set, and he shut it off.

  “Hey, Dad. Come eat.”

  His dad’s eyes, still glazed, turned on Zach in anger.

  “It was the daily double! How—” Veins popped out on the sides of his neck and his mouth pursed like he was prepping to spit poison darts.

  “There are tacos in the kitchen,” Zach ventured, not knowing whether the sentence would cause an eruption the size of Vesuvius or…

  The mouth relaxed, and Dad’s head cocked to the side.


  “Tacos, huh?”

  Dad followed Zach in and sat himself down at his old spot at the head of the table. Zach noted the cobwebs that had spun between some of the slats on the backs of the chairs. How long had it been since there’d been a family meal at the table?

  Tacos. They had mystical powers.

  Libby’s eyes bugged out when she saw the salsa.

  “I love fresh salsa. Did you actually home-fry these taco shells?”

  Even his mom sat blinking.

  “It’s so good to have you here. What was your name again?” Slowly, like waking from a hibernation, his mother was tuning back in. “You’re so pretty. How did you meet Zach?”

  Now that was a story.

  “Eat,” Piper said. “You say grace here, don’t you? Then we’ll tell everyone a little story.”

  Dinner was blessed and passed and devoured. Zach had never tasted a taco like this. How did she—? Ah, that was the ongoing question when it came to Piper. How did she?

  He let his eyes cast across how easily she shared the food she’d made, offering his dad more chips, pouring everyone more Coke, giving a rundown of the recipe to his mom, asking Libby what she was reading today. Zach didn’t realize it until he felt Piper’s hand rest on top of his under the table, but he’d been resting his hand on her knee, owning her.

  Libby talked about the books she’d read lately, and Piper knew several. Libby was so articulate. Zach had never known.

  Suddenly, Dad slapped both his palms down on the table, bouncing the dishes and silverware with an abrupt clink. Everyone stopped talking, and stared at him.

  “I have something to say.”

  They were the first words he’d spoken since sitting down, and the tremors of them hung in the air. Mom touched a hand to her throat, fear glistening in her eyes. Beneath the table, Piper placed a hand over Zach’s. He was too shocked to move.

  “That fire…” Dad started and then trailed off, as if the words had died in his throat on their way out, evaporated in the heat of the flames that still obviously burned in his memory. His eyes were glassy, faraway.

  “It’s okay, hon—” Mom said.

 

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