Grit: A Love Story on 7th and Main

by Elizabeth Hunter

“Devin Peres,” Cary muttered. “Peres, Rhodes. Wonder who the J is?”

  “Don’t care.” She waved a hand. “Doesn’t matter. All I know is that Greg is saying that if I don’t shut up about Jordan Valley and dissolve the protest committee, he’s going to call in the note on the ranch. Which… I can’t even do that. I didn’t start the committee. It’s not in my power to dissolve it.”

  “Unbelievable.” He closed his eyes. “Actually, it’s sadly believable.”

  He and Calvin had been friends, and none of this came as a surprise to Cary. Calvin had hated his parents, but he could be a little bit like them at times. He’d probably signed that note using Melissa’s ranch as collateral without even considering the idea he’d be unable to repay it. Stupid.

  Cary shook his head. “I can’t believe he signed that note without telling you.” He stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab her some Kleenex. She wasn’t crying, but it was close.

  Melissa took the tissues he held out. “It probably seemed like so little money to him he didn’t even consider it. Besides, Calvin would have been thirty before it came due, and he would have come into his trust fund. We were never going to be short on cash once he had that. I can’t even count how many times he said, ‘After I turn thirty…’” She heaved a massive sigh. “Life sure has a way of kicking you.”

  Cary said, “Calvin died just before he turned thirty, so no trust fund.”

  “The money didn’t disappear, it just rolled over to Abby’s fund. But I don’t have access to it. Neither does she until she’s thirty. Those are the terms of the trust his grandparents set up.”

  “Are they still living? Can they change it? Calvin signed a note that you and your mom are being held responsible for because he’s gone. Surely his grandparents never intended—”

  “His grandparents are dead. And Greg and Bev have nothing to do with it. It’s a law firm in Santa Maria.”

  “Fuck.”

  “Yeah.” She wiped her eyes. “So I have to come up with seventy-five thousand dollars really fast.”

  Cary shrugged. “Or you can just go along with things. There’s no guarantee the development will happen. The Allen Ranch project may die a natural death because people keep making noise.”

  “Or it might go through and we’ll have two thousand houses at the end of Jordan Valley, chemicals in our water from golf course runoff, and traffic issues from here until forever.”

  Cary put his hands on his hips, still standing. He was too pissed off to sit. “It wouldn’t be the end of the world,” he said. “And you’d still have your ranch.”

  Melissa cocked her head. “I can’t believe you’d even suggest that. I’m not the only one affected by this.”

  “No, but you know what? You’re the only one being asked to put your own neck on the line because of it, Missy. I would never judge you for doing what you needed to do to protect your family, and I’d kick the shit out of anyone who questioned your motives.”

  “But it’s not just about me.” She reached in her pocket and pulled out her phone. “Oh, and in case you think Greg and Bev are being heartless, read this. She just sent this.”

  He took the phone and saw an email on the screen.

  * * *

  Dear Melissa,

  I heard that you and Greg had words yesterday afternoon about the Allen Ranch project. I don’t want this to come between our family. It would break my heart.

  I want you to know you are always welcome here at the ranch. Always. And though I know you’re probably very angry with Greg right now, I have talked to him and convinced him that we don’t want to anger you. You’re Calvin’s widow and Abby’s mom. You’re family.

  If you would speak up in defense of the project at the next council meeting, it would go a long way to smoothing things over with him. If you’d do that, honey, I think we could tear up that note entirely. The money is nothing to us. We just want you and Abby to be safe and happy.

  Love always,

  Beverly

  “That is…” Cary had to read through it twice. “Wow.”

  “Right?”

  “Help us get our development project done and we’ll cancel your debt. Speak out against it and we’ll take your ranch.” He looked up. “Is this woman for real?”

  “Did you like how she mentioned the money was ‘nothing to them’? I liked that part especially.”

  “The money isn’t anything to them.” He sat next to her. “This is all about control. About getting their hooks in you whatever way they can.”

  “And through me, Abby.” She looked up at him, her eyes still damp. “I can’t do it, Cary. If I give in on this, they’ll hold it over me for the rest of my life.”

  He nodded, knowing she was right. “So what are your options?”

  “Right now, nothing. They have to give me notice if they’re calling it in, and I already emailed Mom’s estate lawyer, hoping he might find a loophole somewhere.”

  Cary wasn’t counting on a loophole. He was already shuffling his assets, trying to figure out where he could grab seventy-five grand. He could put it together, but then he’d have to convince Melissa to take it. That would be the harder part.

  She laid her head on his shoulder. “I haven’t told Mom yet. She’s going to be so pissed. And disappointed.”

  “At you?”

  “No, at Calvin.” Melissa heaved a huge sigh. “She adored him.”

  Cary turned his head and kissed her forehead. “Are you pissed at him?”

  She was silent for a long time. “No. Because it’s just such a Calvin thing. He was the enthusiastic dreamer. He always figured things would work out. There was no malice there. Just… gross optimism.”

  “He should have told you when he signed that note.”

  “I had a hard pregnancy, and I was so damn cranky because I couldn’t ride. I was getting three hours of sleep on a good day.” She snuggled her head into Cary’s shoulder. “He was probably afraid of me.”

  Cary put his arms around her and marveled at the generosity of her heart. She could have blamed her late husband, could have resented the life of privilege that gave Calvin such an unrealistic attitude toward money.

  She didn’t. She loved him for who he was.

  “What are you going to tell Abby?”

  She pulled away and stared at him. “Nothing. Why should I tell Abby anything?”

  “Maybe not now, but if they call in the note—”

  “She doesn’t need to know, Cary.”

  He bit his tongue. It wasn’t his place to say, but Abby was a mature kid and she wasn’t clueless. She was going to know something was going on.

  “Kiss me,” she said.

  He stroked her hair and tucked a piece behind her ear. “I want to, but you’re upset.”

  She frowned. “I know. That’s why I want you to kiss me.”

  He smiled, glad that she’d come to him, relieved that he’d become her sounding board even if he had to bite his tongue sometimes.

  “I suppose…” He kissed the corner of her eye, which was still a little teary. “…I could kiss you. As a friend.”

  She looped her arms around his neck. “Yes. Just a friendly kiss.”

  “Missy,” he whispered against her lips before he kissed them.

  Soft.

  Generous.

  Sexy as hell.

  The taste of her mouth was addicting. Cary kept his kisses slow and controlled. She wanted comfort? He could give her comfort. She wanted distraction? He was fine with that.

  He put his arm around her back and lowered her to the bed, his mouth never leaving her lips. They lay on their sides, and he kissed her over and over again, wanting to drive every tear from her eyes and every ounce of tension from her shoulders.

  As he kissed her, he kneaded her back and ran his fingers through her hair.

  She let out a shuddering sigh. “You’re petting me like a cat.”

  “Is it working?”

  “Meow.” She kissed him again and
threw her leg over his hips. “This is giving me all kinds of ideas.”

  “Keep your ideas to yourself tonight,” he muttered. “I’m being good, but I’m not that good.”

  “No.” She pulled back and looked into his eyes. “You’re not good. You’re great. I’m sorry it took me so long to see that.”

  I am yours.

  I am yours.

  I am so yours.

  Cary cupped her cheek in his hand and stared at her. He rubbed his thumb over her lips. I love you like crazy, Melissa Rhodes.

  “Can you tell me something?” she asked.

  “Anything.”

  She took his hand off her cheek and looked at it. “How are your hands so soft? Seriously, they’re all callused but they’re still soft. I don’t understand.”

  Cary chuckled a little. “They make special lotion climbers use because we don’t want to lose our calluses. So I order that, and then I also use a very fine sandpaper to smooth them out.” He played his thumb along her lower lip. “Don’t want to rough you up.”

  She squeezed his thigh with her leg. “I don’t mind a little rough.”

  “Woman, I am really trying to be good here.”

  She laughed, a low, wicked laugh that told him she knew exactly how much she affected him.

  “Come here.” He hooked a finger through her belt loop and pulled her closer. “You kiss me this time.”

  “I am kissing you.”

  “You know what I mean.”

  She put a hand on his cheek and stroked it. Then she ran her fingers up and into his hair, teasing it between her fingers as she leaned forward and took his mouth. Her tongue came out, ran along his lips, and he opened his mouth to welcome her.

  Her hand rested on his chest, and she had to feel his heart pounding, had to feel the solid erection he was sporting, pressed against her thigh. She didn’t hurry. Didn’t rush a single thing.

  It was slow, glorious torture, and he loved every minute of it.

  She had to leave before it got too late, but Cary was relieved to see that by the time she walked to the truck, the strain was gone from her eyes. He walked her out and opened the door for her.

  “You coming to Abby’s program next week? We can’t do the camping thing because of soccer, but she wanted you and your mom to come.”

  Abby had invited Cary and Rumi to the fall talent show at her school. She was singing and dancing with a group of her friends and was asking for an audience.

  Cary nodded. “We wouldn’t miss it. Text me the time of her game this weekend and I’ll try to make it if we haven’t taken off yet.”

  “I will. And I’ll make dinner after the program if you and your mom want to come over.”

  “Sounds good.” He hesitated, not sure if he should bring up the loan again. “You going to tell your mom about it?”

  “Dinner?” Melissa frowned.

  “No, the other thing.”

  “Ah.” Melissa took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Yeah. I have to.”

  “I still think you should tell Abby. Not to badmouth her grandparents, but just so she knows what’s up. ’Cause she’s going to know something is up.”

  She didn’t argue with him this time. She stared at the steering wheel and nodded. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Fair enough.” He curled his finger toward her. “Come here.”

  “Again?” Her smile reappeared from hiding. “You’re insatiable.”

  “Just wait. You’ll find out how much.”

  Her lips were flushed and swollen by the time he finished kissing her.

  “Soon,” he whispered against her mouth. “Very soon.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  Melissa sat next to Cary in the darkened auditorium, trying to ignore the feeling of his finger sliding along her leg. His face gave nothing away; he was watching raptly as Abby and three of her friends lip-synced and danced to “Walking on Sunshine” while dressed in 1980s costumes, sunglasses, and carrying cardboard surfboards.

  A slight smile was on his face, but Melissa couldn’t tell if he was smiling at the girls’ antics or enjoying her torment.

  She cleared her throat and shifted. “Stop,” she mouthed at him.

  He didn’t say a word, he just moved his arm from beside her leg to the back of her seat, effectively putting his arm around her.

  Her eyes went wide. “Cary.”

  “What? These seat are tiny,” he whispered. “My shoulders don’t fit.”

  She wished she could just relax, lean into his side, and maybe lean her head on his shoulder. He was solid. It would feel so nice.

  But her daughter was on the stage. A hundred nosy gossips filled the auditorium. She wasn’t embarrassed about Cary, she just didn’t want a million different opinions on something that was nobody’s business but theirs. So she sat stiffly next to him, pretending the muscled arm around her shoulders was nothing more than the gesture of a friend.

  He leaned over to her and whispered, “Our childhood is now a historical musical era.”

  “Showing your age, old man.” She smiled a little. “I was a baby when this came out.”

  “Oh, that’s right. I forgot you’re barely legal.”

  Melissa had to muffle a laugh.

  “What was your boy band of choice? Were you an ’N Sync girl? Backstreet Boys?”

  “Please.” She cut her eyes toward him. “I was obviously the sixth Spice Girl.”

  His lip twitched. “I apologize. I don’t know how I could have made that mistake.”

  “You think I was a fan of ramen-noodle hair?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but now I’m hungry for ramen. Thank you.”

  She smiled. “You never told me how the climb went.”

  “Good.” He nodded. “Very good.”

  “Was it… relaxing?”

  Cary bit back a smile. “Not as relaxing as some things can be.”

  “Shhhh.”

  Joan was glaring at them, so Melissa shut up. You could be thirty-four, but that didn’t mean you got to ignore your mom when you were whispering during the assembly.

  “Be good,” she whispered to him.

  “Trust me, I’ll be very good.” His thumb slid along her bare shoulder, and Melissa barely contained the shiver.

  It wasn’t fair for Cary to turn her on in the middle of the Oakville Elementary assembly hall, but when had life ever been fair?

  They sat through Abby’s dance—which was pretty cute even though the girls had done more laughing than lip-syncing—and two more dance groups. Four trembling singers, three piano solos, and the world’s shortest and cutest garage band rounded out the night’s entertainment. When the lights came up and everyone turned to go, Melissa looked at Cary.

  “I made chili and corn bread, so we can eat when you and your mom get to the house.”

  Cary was staring at her.

  “What?” She looked down. “Did I get something on my dress?”

  He murmured, “I want to kiss you right now.”

  “Because I made chili?”

  “No, I just want to kiss you.” He leaned close as people shuffled around them. “It’s been over a week. I need you and me. Alone.”

  Her eyes went wide. “I’m going to go pick up Abby from her classroom, then we’re going to the house to eat dinner.”

  “After that?”

  Her cheeks felt hot. “After that… I wanted you to check out the new plumbing in the bunkhouse if you have time.”

  “Sure.” His eyes burned her skin. “I’d be happy to do that.”

  “Did you see when I slipped?” Abby burst into laughter. “I thought Marta was going to fall all over me, and then we were all going to fall over like dominos.”

  “But you didn’t,” Rumi said. “You caught yourself and then you all finished very nicely. It was a beautiful dance.”

  “Thanks, Nana.” Abby reached for another piece of corn bread, but Melissa stopped her.

  “Nuh-uh.” Melissa poi
nted at her bowl. “Actual food before you take more corn bread.”

  “Mom—”

  “Don’t argue. Protein, Abby. Muscles don’t grow from corn.”

  Melissa pretended not to notice when Cary slipped half his corn bread over to Abby’s plate, but she caught his eye when Abby giggled.

  “What?” His face was all innocence. He took a bite of his chili. “Great chili, Missy.”

  Abby swung her head toward Cary. “Hey, adult.”

  “Hey, kid.”

  Abby smiled. “Why do you call Mom Missy? You’re the only one who does that. Uncle Ox and Grandma call her Lissa sometimes, but you call her Missy.”

  Cary smiled. “Do you really want to know?”

  Melissa said, “Oh Cary, don’t.”

  “What?” He grinned. “It’s cute.”

  “It’s embarrassing.” She covered her face.

  Abby was bouncing in her seat. “What is it? You have to tell me now. You have to.”

  “It was funny and adorable.” Cary turned to Abby. “So when your mom was a little older than you, she was riding over by our house.”

  Abby turned to Melissa. “Were you riding Sky?”

  “I was,” Melissa said. “I’d just gotten her a few months before.”

  Cary smiled. “And I was… a lot older than your mom. I was in my twenties and almost done with college.”

  Abby’s eyes went wide. “I didn’t know you were older than Mom.”

  “Only by numbers. She’s much older than me mentally.”

  “Hey!” Melissa tossed her napkin across the table.

  “Can we not start a food fight to prove our youthful energy?” Joan asked. “I’m not cleaning that up.”

  “If you start a food fight”—Rumi raised a spoon and narrowed her eyes—“I’m taking you all out.”

  Abby giggled, but she wasn’t distracted. “What happened? Why do you call Mom Missy? You still haven’t told me.”

  Cary put his arm around Abby’s chair and turned his eyes toward Melissa. “So I’d just come home from college in San Luis to work for the summer, and your mom comes riding up the road from the ranch on her horse.”

  “On Sky.”

  Cary nodded. “On Sky. I hadn’t seen her in a couple of years and I didn’t recognize her. And I knew I’d remember that horse. So I asked her, ‘Hey, can I help you? Are you lost?’ And you know what she said?”