Let's Not & Say We Did (The Love Game Book 5)

by Elizabeth Hayley

  “That’s okay,” I said. “We’ll just…mingle.”

  My mom looked both apprehensive and relieved. My guess was that she’d known the right thing to do was introduce me, but it also wasn’t something she particularly wanted to do. Not that I could blame her. I wasn’t sure where she stood with the rest of the family, and honestly, it couldn’t have been easy to have the child social services had taken away from you show up to an event like this. I gave her credit for wanting me here, even though it highlighted her greatest failure: her inability to take care of her children.

  “Okay, well, I’ll catch up with you in a bit,” Kari said, and I nodded.

  I took Taylor’s hand in mine and turned to look out over the rest of the park and the people milling around in it.

  Hudson stood on my other side. “So, you want to meet the crazy ones, the crazier ones, or the craziest ones?”

  I shared a look with Taylor, and she smiled. Turning back to Hudson, I said, “May as well go all in.”

  Hudson smirked. “Uncle Lester it is.”

  She started off, and though the evil glint in her eyes made me wary, I followed. Whether it was to my benefit or destruction…I guessed I’d find out.

  T A Y L O R

  Uncle Lester could’ve been anywhere between forty and eighty. His back was slightly rounded, giving him that hunched-over look often associated with old age, but he also used words like lit and salty and asked if we were coming to “spill the tea” when we walked over.

  I only knew he wasn’t a teenager because his hands were weathered and the skin on his arms was loose and saggy.

  Usually one’s face gave the strongest evidence of age, but since Uncle Lester was wearing some sort of Steampunk bird mask, I wasn’t getting any help in that department.

  “So you became a Yankee, eh?” he asked Ransom, his voice muffled by the mask.

  The question made me lean harder toward him being eighty. Or two hundred and eighty.

  “Uh, I guess,” Ransom answered, his words coming out like a question.

  “Shame. Strong fella like you coulda helped the cause.”

  “Cause?” Ransom asked, and I almost wished he hadn’t.

  If Uncle Lester started on some sort of Civil War-era, racially charged rant, I was going to explode.

  “Yeah. People down here are trying to overturn laws that have ruled our great state since its inception.”

  I felt Ransom stiffen beside me, but Hudson placed a hand on his arm and whispered, “Wait for it.”

  “Take my hometown of Gainesville, for example. There, it’s illegal to eat a chicken with a fork, a perfectly reasonable law. And people want to overturn it! Everyone knows, chicken is meant to be eaten and enjoyed with your hands. We need all the help fighting off these psychopaths we can get. You look good and intimidatin’. We need more of that down here.”

  Whew. So Uncle Lester was just insane. What a relief.

  Ransom looked flustered, and I’d have felt for him if this weren’t one of the most entertaining conversations I’d ever been a part of.

  “I don’t, uh, I’m pretty settled up there,” he said. “Sorry.”

  The bird head shook back and forth slowly. “Such a pity. Well, let me know if you change your mind. Got a comfortable couch you can stay on until you find your own place. Course, that’s where Mable sleeps, but I’m sure she’d share.”

  “Who’s Mable?” I asked, expecting him to say anything from his daughter to a dog.

  “My chicken.”

  Damn, hadn’t seen that one coming.

  “Don’t worry,” he continued. “I won’t eat her with my hands. And certainly not with a blasted fork!”

  “Uncle Lester,” Hudson said, leaning toward him, conspiring. “Is that Aunt Fiona over there? I wonder if she ever bought that rake.”

  “I bet she didn’t. She’s been a heathen since the womb.” He started to move past us. “Fiona! Fiona, I got a rake to pick with you.”

  “Rake?” I asked Hudson as we watched Lester point a finger at an older woman who looked about ready to physically remove his head from his body.

  “She lives in Acworth, where every citizen must own a rake. She refuses to buy one to drive Lester crazy.”

  “Seems like an easy task,” I muttered.

  “Yeah, he’s really eccentric but harmless overall. He once gave me fifty dollars because he said my shoes looked worn.”

  “That’s nice,” Ransom said.

  “It was. I mean, I’m pretty sure he did it to get under Aunt Renee’s skin, but still. New shoes are new shoes.”

  Ransom let out a heavy sigh and rolled his shoulders. “Okay. Who’s next?”

  “Well, that depends. There’s our cousin Ronald, who always wears fedoras and speaks with a British accent, great-aunt Hazel, who thinks she can predict your future if she rubs your feet—sidebar, I’m destined to go on a crime spree that’s somehow caused by a misunderstanding—or Hector. I’m not sure how we’re related to him, but he claims he grew the world’s largest peanut, but due to jealousy and a vicious streak a mile wide, his wife ate the peanut before them ‘boys from Guinness,’ as he called them, could get out there to measure. He tried gluing the shell back together, but the damage had been done.”

  “Wow. Are they still married?” I asked, curious if one could overcome a betrayal of that magnitude.

  “No, they divorced soon after. He still lives in her basement, though. He had to move down there when she remarried.”

  I looked over at Ransom. “Holy shit. I think you may be the most normal one here.”

  “Hey,” Hudson protested as Ransom grabbed me in a loose headlock, causing me to burst out laughing.

  “You’re messing up my hair, you Neanderthal.”

  “According to Uncle Lester, Georgia needs more Neanderthals.”

  He let go, and I beamed up at him. “Too bad they can’t have you.”

  “Oh no?” he asked, his eyes sparkling in the sun.

  “Nope. You’re all mine.”

  Ransom smiled and was leaning down to kiss me when Hudson said, “That reminds me, I’ll have to introduce you to Baxter. He once stole a mannequin from a department store and went running down the street with her, yelling about how she asked to go live with him. Spent some time in the asylum after that stunt.” She shook her head sadly. “Never been the same since.”

  I was just about to beg to never meet this Baxter person, when someone spoke from behind us.

  “Ransom?”

  We turned to see an older woman with white hair puffed up to make her look about three inches taller than she was. But even with her short stature, there was an intimidating air about her. She was solidly built, but not overweight, and looked like she was more than capable of knocking grown men on their asses.

  Mostly, though, it was probably the serious set of her face that made her seem unapproachable. She didn’t smile, her brows were held in a rigid line, and her eyes looked almost…disinterested. Like she was deigning to speak to us without any real desire to do so.

  “I’m your grandma. Been a long time since I’ve seen you.” She gave Ransom a quick look over. “Looks like you grew up all right.”

  I wanted to say something spiteful like it was no thanks to her that was the case, but I held it back. I don’t think she missed the sharp intake of breath I’d taken, making it clear I’d wanted to interject but hadn’t.

  “Who’s this?” she asked, sounding like she expected him to say I was some grifter he’d picked up on the way down here.

  Ransom wrapped his arm tighter around me. “This is my girlfriend, Taylor. Taylor, this is my grandma Irene.”

  “Taylor,” she repeated. “Never really understood people who used last names for first names.”

  “Hmm, Hudson must’ve been a hard sell for you, then,” I snapped back before I could censor myself.

  She raised one of her eyebrows slightly, and if I had to guess, I would’ve said she looked almost impressed by my retort
. If she was, she was in for a treat. I had snark for days ready for this lady.

  We all stood there looking at each other. It was clear none of us knew what to say, and since everything that entered my mind contained an expletive, I decided to sit this one out.

  Hudson moved toward Ransom and embraced his arm. “Isn’t he handsome, Grandma? And smart. He’s getting his master’s degree.”

  Ransom shuffled a little, looking uncomfortable by the praise, probably because it sounded like Hudson was trying to sell her grandmother on him—something that shouldn’t have been necessary. But I gave her credit for trying. The poor girl was in a difficult position, and she was doing her best to navigate it with a sunny smile and a positive attitude.

  “That’s nice,” the older woman said, sounding as someone might when accepting a preschool art project covered in glue and popsicle sticks. “What in?”

  “Sports medicine,” Ransom replied.

  She nodded. “That makes sense. You always were good at sports. Shame what happened at Ohio.”

  Ransom was visibly taken aback, likely shocked she knew anything about his interests, let alone the career-ending knee injury he’d suffered in college.

  “Yeah,” he said, his voice thick. “Figured becoming an athletic trainer or physical therapist would let me still have something to do with the game. Especially since football was the only thing I was ever really good at.”

  “Well, it’s good to play to your strengths,” his grandmother said.

  I wasn’t sure if Ransom had said what he did thinking that being self-deprecating would endear him to her or if he really thought he wasn’t good at anything else, but I couldn’t let this woman or Ransom, for that matter, think he was short on talents.

  “That’s not the only thing he’s good at,” I said. “He’s great with kids. He’s by far the most popular counselor at the after-school program where we work. He’s also who our boss there trusts the most because he’s dependable and responsible. He’s on track to graduate from his program with high honors, he’s funny, he’s kind, he’s a great friend and an even better boyfriend. There’s nothing he can’t do if he sets his mind to it.”

  I was nearly out of breath when I finished my diatribe, but I didn’t regret a word of it. Maybe I was guilty of the same thing Hudson had done—tried to make Ransom sound good to his grandmother. But fuck it. Nothing I said had been a lie, and if she’d made any attempt to know him, I wouldn’t have had to tell her anything. She would’ve already found it out for herself.

  She was quiet for a moment, lips pursed. “That’s quite a list. Did y’all practice that on the way down?” She smirked as if her words were funny.

  Ransom cleared his throat. “Why would we do that? It would imply a desire to impress you. Something I can assure you I feel no need to do.”

  His grandmother appraised him before giving him a full smile, without any hint of malice or judgment. “I’m glad to hear it. No one here is worth trying to impress.” She stepped forward and reached out, patting Ransom on the forearm. “I’m glad you came, Ransom. And I’m glad you managed to turn out so well. God knows we weren’t much help to you in that regard.”

  She cast a brief look in my direction before turning her attention back to him, her lips clearly fighting a smile. “Maybe your guard dog will let us visit a little more later.” And with that, she began to walk off.

  “Did she just call me a dog?” I asked loudly, causing the infuriating woman to cackle as she headed toward another group of people.

  Hudson looked perplexed. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard her laugh like that.”

  “I tend to bring the best out in people,” I replied.

  Ransom snorted at that, the jerk.

  Chapter Fourteen

  R A N S O M

  I’d spoken to so many people within the first hour of arriving at the reunion that my throat had started to ache. At some point, Hudson had wandered off, leaving us to tackle the masses on our own. Most people had been genial and welcoming, even if there seemed to be an alarming number of eccentric personalities in my family.

  But then there were people like the ones we’d found ourselves stuck talking to for the past few minutes, like Cal. He’d introduced himself as my mother’s distant cousin but also as my great-uncle. When Taylor had looked at him quizzically, he’d shrugged and said he’d “married twins.”

  I had no idea how that would impact his place in my family tree, but I was also fairly certain I didn’t want to find out.

  When my gaze drifted to the woman beside him, who I assumed was his wife, he said, “Oh, Billy Jo’s not one of them. We met after I divorced the first twin for the second time.”

  Wow. For a somewhat portly and homely man, “Uncle” Cal seemed to get a lot of action.

  “This is my oldest son, Cal Jr. Junior, meet your cousin… I’m sorry, I’m not sure I ever knew your name.”

  I felt Taylor take a step forward, and I imagined it was so she could rip Cal’s head from his body, but I reached out to grab her hand, shooting her what I hoped was a calming look. It didn’t seem to work. She looked furious, and oddly, that made me less so.

  This clown was no one to me. The people who knew and loved me were in my corner, and that’s what mattered. The fact that Taylor felt each slight against me so viscerally made me feel whole in a way I wasn’t sure I ever had.

  I extended my hand. “Ransom.”

  Cal Jr. clasped it, pumping it once as his father slapped his rotund belly like some sort of down-on-his-luck Santa Claus.

  “I did know that,” he said through guffaws. “We had a good laugh about that one when you were born. Ransom. For the love of Pete, what was Kari thinking?” He sobered, but the mirth didn’t leave his eyes—though it did morph into something decidedly crueler. “Though I guess you and I both know she wasn’t exactly thinking straight, was she, Ransom?”

  That sent him into peals of laughter again, and despite my earlier feelings of calm, rage was quickly bubbling up.

  “It is funny, isn’t it?” Taylor said beside me.

  I snapped my attention to her, the hurt crushing my chest as if an anvil had been dropped on it. Though when I looked at her, I noticed she wasn’t laughing.

  “It’s almost as funny as some hillbilly with a twin fetish mocking his own family at what should be a celebration of his relationship with them.”

  Cal’s laughter slowed as he swept his glinty stare over Taylor. “You talkin’ about me?” He chewed the inside of his cheek as he forced a neutral expression to his face.

  I assumed the psychopathic nonchalance he was trying to exude was something he thought made him more intimidating. Instead, it made him look like a constipated actor who was working too hard to sell his lines.

  “Hmm, clever too,” Taylor replied. “That’s a surprise.”

  A flush crept up Cal’s neck as his anger seemed to be literally bubbling to the surface. He took a step toward her, his finger outstretched. “Now you listen—”

  That’s as far as he got. Instinctively, I’d moved to fill the space between them, causing Cal’s finger to graze my chest before he quickly retracted it. I had at least four inches on the man, causing him to have to tilt his head back to look me in the face. And from the way his eyes widened, I’d hazard a guess he didn’t enjoy the position he found himself in.

  “You say one word out of line to her,” I growled, “and you’ll be leaving here in an ambulance. Got it?”

  A slither of fear slid through his gaze at my threat, but as he registered the small crowd that had gathered around us, he puffed up like the proud little rooster he clearly was and attempted to shrug my warning off as he stepped back.

  “Threatening your family, huh?” His attention shifted briefly to Taylor. “Wish I could say I was surprised. Being a criminal is pretty much in your blood.”

  His words were exactly what I’d feared before we’d come, and despite them coming from a man who was clearly a total lowlife, it still s
tung. I tried to maintain a blank facade, but from the way his lips turned into a smirk, he knew his words had left a mark.

  I felt Taylor move behind me, but whatever she was going to say was cut off by a voice that was so icy, it likely could’ve been used to combat global warming.

  “Must be,” Grandma Irene said, her eyes holding so much malice, Pennywise the Clown would think twice before fucking with her. “Especially since you also share that blood. Between that lady friend you got caught with in your car a while back and that restitution you had to pay your boss after parts from his shop were magically found in your garage, it seems being a criminal is something you have a bit of expertise in.”

  “I was set up. Damn cops in town have it out for me,” Cal blustered, spittle flying from his mouth in his frenzy to defend himself.

  “Hmm, yes, you with your pants around your knees as a woman somehow fell, openmouthed, onto your…member definitely screams setup. What was her name? Cherry? Candy? I forget. Didn’t forget the rumor she may have been a minor, though. Care to clear that one up for us?”

  “I…I…I can’t believe…you…” Cal scrambled to form his thoughts as he gestured to me, apparently caught off guard by my grandmother’s attack of him in defense of me.

  She moved in on him, sliding her small body between him and me, her eyes never leaving his. “You can’t believe what? That I’d put all your business in the street? Or park, as it were. Guess it’s been too long since you’ve seen me, Calvin. You’ve clearly forgotten how long my memory is and that all gossip trains run through my station first and foremost. Oh, and that I don’t give a flying fuck about you and yours. So you better get away from my grandson before I start talking about what really landed you in Georgia State Prison a few years back.”

  Cal had grown progressively paler as my grandmother spoke, and he stood there, gaping like a fish, as she continued to stare him down. Finally, he cleared his throat and took a quick look around before uttering a brusque “let’s go” to his family, who filed behind him like stupid little ducklings.

  Once he was far enough away, my grandmother turned and said to the crowd that had gathered, “What do y’all look so surprised about? It’s not a Moxon reunion if there’s not a row smack in the middle of it.”