“Should we play a game? They have a bunch inside. Monopoly could be fun.” Harlyn is already half out of her seat at the prospect.
Foster’s face takes on a gray shade. “No way, not again.”
“Oh, come on,” she prods. “It’ll be fun.”
He shakes his head. “Nope. It’s too competitive. I can’t handle you at that level.”
Sutton starts laughing. “Right? She’s always cool as a cucumber until hotels start being built. I agree with Foster.”
Harlyn slumps in her chair. “That’s lame.”
“Do they have Life?” I find myself asking.
Three pairs of eyes focus on me. Sutton leans on my armrest. “Maybe. Is that what gets your vote?”
I shrug and drop my gaze. “It always looked fun. Getting to choose your path and see what happens. I’ve never played.”
Sutton stretches for my hand under the table and applies some gentle pressure. I drag my gaze up to hers. She smiles, her stare a calm blue ocean inviting me in. I’ll gladly go. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”
Turns out, board games are a lot of fun. Who the hell knew? Certainly not me. An hour later and I’m the official winner. But with the girl sitting beside me, I was already coming out way ahead.
22
Grady
Happy something #63: Finding an escape that lets me forget. Even for a few moments.
The putrid stench of rotting life wafts into my open windows. I do my best to cover a cringe. There’s no stopping the bone-snapping force that locks up my joints. I clutch harder at the steering wheel until my knuckles are white. This was a mistake. The evidence is strewn about the trailer park between piles of trash and hollowed out vehicles. This place is haunted with the worst memories, many of them my own.
My balding tires struggle across the overgrown terrain. The main drag is even worse than a short month ago. I swerve into the first available spot and shift my pickup into park. Above a pair of squawking crows, I can almost hear the old engine sigh. Not that I’m really listening. Nothing registers over the vicious evil plaguing my mind. Inky black sludge paints my vision until I’m left in total darkness.
Sutton doesn’t belong here. This type of ugly should never touch her. I’m gutted and weak. What worth do I offer? I glare at the rusting dumpster through the windshield, refusing to face the horror marking her features. There’s no doubt her regrets are stacking higher than the abandoned bags of garbage.
“We should leave,” I growl.
In my periphery, I see her head swivel toward me. “What? Why?”
“I don’t want you to see the worst of it.”
She rests a soft palm over my flexing forearm. “Gray, look at me.”
A poisonous thatch of thorns grows in my throat. It takes the remaining control I have to swallow past the pain. I allow my eyes to wander her way. What I find waiting in her expression steals the air from my lungs. There is no pity or embarrassment. I don’t see shame glimmering in her blue gaze. Her stare is steady and doesn’t waver, filling me to the brink with peace and love and everything good. I match her intense focus and take a deep inhale. Only the purest hit of strawberries and coconut greet me. This woman pulls me away from the wreckage, saving me from the worst version of myself. My exhale is a quiet stutter.
“Thanks, Sutt.”
“We’re a team, Gray. I’ll never spook from anything so long as you’re by my side. That should go both ways.”
I manage a jerky nod. “It does.”
“Good. Let’s go see your mother.” She hauls one of the grocery bags onto her lap. The swift move proves the strength in her tone. My girl isn’t going anywhere but inside as planned.
I grab the other sacks and hop out of the cab. Sutton meets me at the tailgate. Her plaid summer dress matches the tropical ocean in her eyes. Shiny dark waves ripple in the slight breeze. It’s no surprise that she’s stunning, a blinding bright spot amongst the corroded rubble.
“Love you, Sutt.” I swoop down and place a kiss against her temple.
She leans into me. “I love you, Gray.”
Those three words inject me with enough confidence to face forward. The four wheels that hold up my mother’s home have been flat since she moved in. I don’t concentrate on the other crushing qualities as we walk along the grassy path. A few long strides and we’re at the front door. The new hinges I installed gleam in the sunlight. I smile at that while knocking on the metal frame.
Sutton grips my arm when I step onto the single stair leading in. “Shouldn’t we wait for her?”
“Nah.” I shake my head. “I just like to offer a bit of warning, just in case.”
A furrow dents her forehead, but she doesn’t comment further. We enter the dimly lit room in silence. I ignore the foul odor of rotten eggs that assaults my nostrils. My stride falters when I catch sight of my mother sitting on the couch, a wide smile aimed at us. Talk about a rare bout of lucidness. I could trick myself into believing this person is a stranger. The flash of grotesquely decaying teeth provide damning evidence on the contrary.
I dredge up my voice. “Ma?”
“Hey, boy.” She straightens against the cushions.
“You okay?”
She angles toward us, her expression warming another degree. “Of course. What’re you doing here?”
I blink at her. Once more to be sure the sight in front of me is real. She’s still there, awake and grinning. I’m seeing this clearly. Her question worms its way into my mind.
“Brought you some food.” The bags I’m holding suddenly weigh a hundred pounds. I heft them higher and carry the loot into her kitchen.
Sutton follows my shaky gait. “All good?”
I shrug. “Uh, yeah. This isn’t the sight that usually welcomes me.”
“But she’s alright?”
“Guess so.” I peer over Sutton’s shoulder. My mom is staring at us with a shrewd gaze. The typical glaze is absent, leaving a spotless view of her green eyes. I’m well versed on how to handle the woman who occupies this trailer. This seemingly pleasant version is a foreign concept.
She lifts her wrinkled chin at me. “Whatcha whispering about in there? Come sit down, boy. Bring your friend.”
I grab Sutton’s hand and thread our fingers together. We shuffle to the couch with obvious hesitation shackled to our ankles. I draw us to a halt a few feet from where she sits. My mother tsks, blowing some wispy strands off her face.
“I’m not gonna bite, kid. Don’t be such a chicken shit.”
That sounds familiar. I release a suspended breath. Her words, harsh as they might be, soothe the bite of unease nipping at my heels.
I spend a moment studying her, attempting to peel away the superficial layers. “How’re you feeling?”
“Like roadkill, not that it’s any of your concern.” Her gaze skips to Sutton. “Who’s this?”
“My girlfriend.” I tuck her behind me on instinct.
Her eyes remain locked on Sutton. “You Barry’s girl?”
She nods. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Don’t bother with that formal shit.” My mother shakes a boney finger at her.
Sutton’s gulp is audible. “S-sorry.”
“No reason to apologize. We just aren’t too fancy in these parts. Isn’t that right, Grady?”
Her underlying meaning is a dirty film coating my skin. I scrub at the residue it leaves behind. Getting a clean break from this snake pit is a lost cause. But there’s no sense responding to her cutting remarks. My mother should know I won’t stoop. She tosses me a haughty sneer regardless.
“Such a puss,” she accuses. “Not sure what this beauty sees in you.”
Sutton gasps and clutches the fabric of my shirt in a tight fist. I grind my molars until a deafening crack pops the silence. “That’s our cue to go. Enjoy the food. Make sure to eat something.”
“Now, now, don’t be getting all pissy. I’ll behave.” The smile she plasters on is brittle. Being nice and respectful has n
ever come natural for her.
I almost call bullshit. This woman has never asked me to stick around longer than necessary. She’s probably ramping up to beg for some cash. Bummer for her, I’m fresh out. I fold my arms and widen my stance. “Why? So we can have a friendly chat?”
My mother ignores me, her attention returning to Sutton. She pats the couch and a cloud of dust rises. “Come sit with me.” She shoots a pointed glare at me. “Be a good boy and fetch us some tea.”
I choke on the stale air. Tea? Since when does this woman drink anything except liquor? Yeah. Fucking. Right. This situation smells worse than a polluted swamp. Leaving Sutton alone with her, even for a few minutes, doesn’t sit well in my gut. A gurgling protectiveness rises up and I remain rooted in place.
A shrill whistle cracks through the dank air. “You deaf, Grady?”
My mother gets an eye roll for that. She knows damn well I’m not. The digs will get her nowhere. I cock a brow and wait her out.
She makes a shooing gesture. “Why are you just standing there? We’re thirsty.”
“Pretty sure I can handle whatever you’re about to say. There aren’t any secrets between us.” I point at my chest before pointing at Sutton.
My mother scoffs. “Get real. We’re just gonna have a little girl talk. No boys allowed.”
I look to Sutton and she shrugs. Her lips form a few words that I’m pretty sure are meant for reassurance. I hitch a thumb over my shoulder. “I’ll be right over there. Holler if you need me.”
“We won’t.” My mother is already facing my girl, icing me out.
And with that, I’m officially dismissed. I barely hear their quiet murmurs across the room. Instead of obsessing, I busy myself with finding two clean mugs and the kettle. It’s shocking that my mother owns a teapot. A canister on the stove snags my eye. The contents smell minty, but there’s an underlying aroma I don’t trust. I won’t be letting Sutton drink a sip of this questionable shit. If my mother wants a dose, that’s her choice.
A soft giggle from the couch has me spying. Their heads are tipped close together. My mother pats Sutton’s cheek. All I can do is stare. I’ve never received that type of open affection from her in my twenty-four years. Not that I’m surprised. Sutton gets the good from everyone, even a washed up junkie.
The bubbling boil alerts me before the sharp hiss begins. I fill the cups with steaming water and drop a leafy bag into the one for my mom. With quick strides, I make my way back to them. I set the two mugs in front of them on the table.
“Thank you, Gray.” Sutton sends me a sweet smile.
I lift my lips in one of my own. “You’re welcome.”
My mom makes no move to touch the beverage. “Uh-huh, yeah. Thanks, boy.”
“Good talk?” My question is to both of them, whoever wishes to answer.
“She’s a good egg, Grady. Don’t fuck it up.” My mother beams at Sutton.
I snort at her words of wisdom. Stellar advice from mother of the year. “I plan to keep her around for always.”
Sutton dips her chin, a deep flush coloring her face. “Likewise.”
My mom sits silently, her gaze growing distant. Before I can comment, she blinks and the haze is gone. “It was nice meeting you, Sutton. Enjoy the day. You too, kid.”
“Well, I guess we’re free to go,” I joke.
My mother reaches for her pack of smokes. Sutton scrambles off the sagging cushions as if something bit her. That’s very possible in this hole. I loop an arm around her waist and lead us to the door. Mother dearest offers a weak wave with a flick of her lighter.
I almost cough from the rush of semi-fresh air as we walk outside. A comfortable silence envelops us. The last hour swirls through my mind on a rapid spiral. I’m not sure what to make of anything that occurred inside those four walls.
When we’re settled back in the truck, a deep exhale escapes me. I sag against the lumpy seat. “That was really strange.”
Sutton buckles up and turns to me. “Yeah? She seemed to be in good spirits.”
“Exactly. That never happens.”
“Huh. Guess that’s odd.”
I glance at her from the corner of my eye. A sad sort of smile curls the edges of her mouth as we pull out of the lot. “You okay, beautiful?”
“Yes. It was a bit sad, but also sweet.”
I nearly swerve off the road. “Did you just refer to my mother as sweet?”
Sutton giggles. “I did. And she is.”
“What in the world did she say to you?”
“Nothing outrageous. I think that little conversation was her version of sniffing me out. Making sure I have honorable intentions where you’re concerned.”
I can’t stop the burst of laughter that booms out of me. “That’s hilarious, Sutt. I doubt my mother gives a single shit about me or my life.”
She strokes a finger down my cheek. “She told me to take care of you.”
“That’s comforting considering she never did.”
Sutton hums. “She wasn’t shy about pointing out her list of faults.”
“Only took her several decades.” My tone is bitter, a sour taste on my tongue.
“I think she wants the best for you, in her own twisted way.”
“Why couldn’t she tell me herself?”
She looks out the window at the passing fields. “That’s on her. Maybe she’s ashamed. Years of neglect and abuse. Sometimes it’s easier to share all that with a stranger.”
I release another heavy breath. “Whatever. I just hope it wasn’t too much on you.”
Sutton grabs my free hand. “I’m happy we went. This was a good thing.”
“Maybe you need a refresher of what that word means.” I lift our connected palms, kissing her wrist.
“What’re you suggesting?”
I wink at her. “A new happy something. Anything you want.”
Her hips wiggle in a sexy shimmy. “The possibilities are endless. Let’s start with swimming.”
That gets a low chuckle out of me. “Out of everything, that’s what you want?”
She walks her fingers up my arm. “Diving off your dock.”
My chest warms at the memory of a talk we had so very long ago. We never got to jump in the lake together. Turns out her suggestion is the greatest one.
Sutton leans across the space separating us. “Oh, and by the way? I lost my bikini. Hopefully skinny dipping isn’t a deal breaker.”
23
Grady
Happy something #37: Having the power to be numb.
The Monday morning sun is threatening to blister my skin and it’s barely nine o’clock. I almost miss the stuffy confines of working indoors. A quick glance along the outer wall promises a large shaded area thanks to the huge oak nearby. I should hit that patch of relief after a few more sections. What I wouldn’t give to be neck-deep in the lake with Sutton again. Having her slippery body gliding over mine was the most satisfying happy something my dirty mind could ever conjure up. I palm my junk, cursing the persistent desire sizzling through me. It’s hot enough without adding more flames.
After adjusting myself, I grab another piece of flimsy plastic. I’m finishing up the siding this week. Lighting and appliances after that. I have to stain and install the trim. Finishing touches in the bathroom. That should wrap up the restoration. The end of this project is finally in sight.
I’m about to nail another portion in place when my phone begins vibrating. An unknown number flashes on the screen. I stare at my cell for a slow beat. The decision to answer wobbles my hand. With a resigned sigh, I swipe across the green line.
“Hello?”
“Is this Grady Bowen?”
“Yeah.” I’m already preparing to hang up.
“My name is Patricia. I’m a nurse at Springs Regional.”
Everything screeches to a halt and my vision tunnels to the ground. “What happened? Is Sutton hurt?”
The woman clears her throat. “You’re listed as the emergenc
y contact for Camilla Bowen.”
“She’s my mother.” This isn’t the first time urgent care has called me about her. It probably won’t be the last.
“Camilla was rushed to the hospital a couple hours ago.” Her tone is flat, as if she’s reciting a shopping list. That jaded indifference probably comes with the job.
I rub at the grit in my eyes. “Did she overdose?” I can only imagine the stash she dug into once we left yesterday. That woman isn’t cut out for sobriety. That momentary glimmer was a glitch.
“The toxicology results aren’t completed.”
I want to tell her that’s not necessary. Anyone in this town can fill in the blanks. And if not, her health history is more than extensive. “When can I pick her up?”
They usually watch her overnight, depending on the severity.
The nurse makes a strangled noise. “This is serious, Mr. Bowen. The doctor on call has just finished initial diagnostics. It’s been recommended that you get here immediately.”
“What’s wrong with her?”
“That information will be shared with you in person. I’m at liberty to tell you that her condition is considered critical.
“Can I talk to her?”
“That’s not possible. She’s unconscious, sir. I repeat, her situation is urgent.”
The salvia in my mouth turns to mud. “Uh, okay. I can be on my way shortly.”
“Very good, Mr. Bowen. We’re on the third floor. Check in at the front desk when you arrive.”
“Okay,” I repeat.
She ends the call without further instruction. I glance at the blank screen while possibilities stack up. They’ve never told me to rush over. That’s definitely new. A prickle of unease worms up my neck. I scratch at the odd sensation. It’s probably nothing. But that doesn’t stop the cement from sinking in my gut.
My steps are robotic as I walk into the house. The nurse’s words continue playing on repeat. This is more serious than an overdose. She’s knocked out. The information can only be shared in person. Hurry my ass up.
Tempt Me: A First Class Romance Collection Page 103