by Jordan Marie
“Our last date, he took me to a dance.”
“So? You love dancing!”
“A society formal at the Riverton’s Country Club.”
“Oh, shit.”
“He was very sweet. Even picked out my dress.”
“Okay. So far, I’m seeing no reason to cut the man loose. I mean…”
“It was this beautiful silk and lace, deep red,” I interrupt her, “that probably cost a fortune.”
“Again, C, not making a connection.”
“It was a black and white formal.”
“Oh hell.”
“Yeah, that’s not his fault. I have a very good hunch that it was all Cammie’s fault he picked out a red dress.”
“What? I mean, why would he…”
“He went to the one shop in Addington to buy formal gear. You know, the one where Cammie’s best friend Eliza works.”
“Holy fuck-nuggets Batman.”
“Pretty much.”
“Someone needs to bitch slap that cunt-a-saurus for freaking days.”
I think about the sprinklers and start to tell Mir, but I just don’t want to get into it right now. As much as I hate Cammie, she’s not my problem. I have this sneaking suspicion that it’s me that is the problem right now. I let my doubts push Gray away, and the truth is… I miss him.
“I miss him,” I whisper out loud.
“Oh, honey,” Mir says.
“I got scared, Mir. I like him. I really like him.”
“C…”
“Like, really, really liked him,” I stress.
“So tell him that.”
“He’s gone.”
“He’s in Texas. Not some third world country. Text him.”
“But we broke up,” I sigh. “Jesus, I feel like I’m back in high school worrying over Clinton Sparks.”
“He was an asshole.”
“Maybe Gray is,” I argue.
“I never thought I’d see the day that Claudia Cooper was afraid to live her life.”
“You take that back!”
“Nope. Not going to happen.”
“You’re such a bitch.”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing. Now find your lady balls and text your man.”
I sigh, looking at my phone. “I could just text him to see what he’s doing,” I reason, nerves filling my system.
“My freaking Lord, C, you are jinxed.”
“What?” I ask, jerking up.
“Cammie and her Witches of Crossville crew just came in. You’re jinxed.”
“Or maybe my best friend just picked a particularly horrible place to meet,” I grumble, because really, this place is just the kind of people Cammie would hang around.
“Point made. Jesus, they’re going to sit right behind us. Try not to move. If I have to talk to her, I may projectile vomit,” Mir says, and I agree with her. So for the next five minutes, other than making weird faces at each other, we say nothing. Mir makes silly faces imitating Cammie, and I might giggle a time or two, but we remain mostly silent.
Until the topic of conversation changes. “Cammie, where have you been? I was going to tell you about the new shipment of dresses we got in from Paris last week. They are to die for!”
“Father and I just got back from Texas,” she says, her voice hitting on every nerve ending I have. Mir mouths the word “Texas” and I stare at her, my fists clenching. It really pisses me off that Gray does business with these people, even if I don’t have a say so in it.
“What on Earth were you doing in Texas? It’s so hot this time of year,” one of the girls says.
“My fiancé is there. He wanted me to meet his family.”
My blood runs cold at her words. Her fiancé? Meet the family?
“You got engaged to Grayson Lucas and didn’t tell us? I thought he was dating that mechanic,” another girl says, and she says the word “mechanic” like it’s dirt beneath her fingernails.
“Oh pu-leeze! He was just sowing his wild oats before he settles down. All men do it, but a man like Grayson realizes what kind of woman he needs in his life. We’ll make a great partnership. He said so himself.”
“He did?” another asks while Mir reaches across the table and squeezes my hand in support.
“He did. Why, before I left, he said I was perfect and then he kissed me and, let me tell you ladies, Grayson Lucas can definitely kiss.”
I want to go off. I’m so close to the edge, it’s ridiculous. He wanted Cammie to meet his family? He said she was perfect? Who the fuck does he think he is? Was he just playing me for the fool, or because I didn’t jump onboard with his plans he replaced me that quickly?
I get up and stomp out. I don’t care if Cammie sees me or not. I’m so mad. I’d like to punch Grayson Lucas in his big, fat nose.
“C? What are you thinking? You know Cammie. She’s probably exaggerating and you can’t put a lot of stock into…” I ignore her, walking straight to my car. “C!” she yells, and I finally stop and spin around to face her. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to Texas and punching Gray Lucas in his pretty boy face.”
“Oh. Well, yes! Definitely do that! Heck, if I could get off work, I’d go with you! You should go do it right now! Don’t let him get away with it a minute longer.”
She’s entirely too gleeful over this shit for my liking, but she’s right. I’m going to confront the bastard and make him sorry he thought it was okay to play me.
Cammie’s fiancé! That lying snake.
31
Gray
“It’s a good thing you went into golfing because your fencing sucks,” Blue grumbles, wiping the sweat out of his eyes with a rag he’s stored in the back pocket of his jeans.
“Bite me,” I grumble, holding my thumb which moments before I slammed with a hammer. My mind isn’t on what I’m doing. Hell, my mind hasn’t been on anything but CC for way too long. She’s a fever in my blood and she’s infected my system completely. Everything reminds me of her. The color of the sunset reminds me of her hair. The leaves on mom’s roses reminds me of her eyes. Hell, the other day I was eating a peach and the taste of it even reminded me of her. God! What the fuck am I going to do? I need to get her out of my head, and soon. I can’t go on like this. That much is for sure.
My cellphone rings and I pick it up expecting to see Cammie’s number. She’s been calling nonstop. It took me two days to get rid of her and her father when they came down here. I still haven’t figured out their exact reason for coming here other than Riverton said he was in the area for other business and thought he’d check in on me. Mom hated Cammie and Maggie wasn’t far behind her. There were a few times I thought we were going to have an old-fashioned cat fight and my money would have been on my mom. It doesn’t even matter how old she is. If Mom had went at her, Cammie would have never known what hit her.
The number showing up on my phone, however, isn’t Cammie’s; it’s Seth’s. I know what he’s calling about and I’ve been dreading this conversation. “I have to take this,” I tell Blue, and he rolls his eyes at me. Then again, he thinks all cell phones are evil.
“Hey, Seth.”
“Don’t you ‘Hey, Seth’ me. Did you tell Riverton you didn’t want his sponsorship?”
“Seth…”
“You needed Riverton to grease the wheels here, Grayson! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that he and his daughter showing up at my mother’s house unannounced and talking down about everything and everyone here was just too fucking much to deal with. So, I told him he could either sponsor me or not. Besides, her father seems to think because I have a big bank account, I’m great boyfriend material. At this point, the farther I’m away from David Riverton and his whack-o daughter, the better.”
“Kind of a ballsy move for a fucker who’s been literally blackballed.”
“Whatever.”
“He especially liked the part where you called his daughter a perfect bitch.”
“Hey, what can I say? I have a way with words.”
“Riverton asked me to inform you that he got a job offer.”
“So? What the fuck do I care?”
“He’s been promoted to overseer of the championship tour.”
“Motherfucker!”
“If you’re going to piss off the big dogs, you better expect to have shit thrown at you, Lucas.”
“Whatever. Good luck trying to keep me out. All those fuckers can kiss my ass. I came in fifty-one overall the first part of this season and that was with being off for the last two weeks. They can block me. So I have to putt from every shit-hole coming or going, it doesn’t matter. I will survive and advance and flip them off while I do it,” I growl, fed up with the whole fucking thing.
“Finally, my brother has found his dick,” Blue mutters in the background.
“I hope you know what you’re doing, Grayson, I really do. You’re headed to Nebraska next week.”
“The landfill,” I groan, referring to a golf course that actually was a garbage landfill at one time. It’s a little hole-in-the-wall town that created the golf course to try and get tourism started and save the town’s economy. There’s one fast food restaurant and two hotels, and those are mom-and-pop owned. I hate the place. I have golfed there before when I was earning my stripes. What-the-fuck-ever. It’s tournament time and it’s time to prove to all of them that I have what it takes to do nothing but win. Maybe Nebraska is exactly what I need to get over Claudia Cooper.
Even as I say it, I know the hope for that is slim to none.
32
CC
Adrenaline and anger kept me going for the first half of the trip. The second half of the trip was motivated by constant phone conversations with Mir and memories of Cammie calling Gray her fiancé. Now that I’m riding in a taxi to Gray’s mom’s house, there’s nothing to keep me from running. That fact just gets clearer when the cabbie tells me that he won’t drive me up the driveway, but instead stops the car at the end of the main road. When I ask him why, he gives me some kind of vague explanation about a crazy woman shooting at his car because the yellow color scared her pet cow. If I wasn’t so nervous and busy second-guessing myself, I would have demanded more of the story.
“Fine, but stay here and wait for me. This won’t take long.”
“Lady, that woman is nuts. I’m not waiting around for her to fill my car full of buckshot,” the cabbie argues.
“Fifteen minutes. You can wait that long, right? I’ll pay you double,” I bargain, wondering if I shouldn’t just turn around. What is really the point of all of this?
“Ten minutes, tops. And I want to be paid first.”
“No way. I pay you and you’ll leave the minute I get out of this car.”
“Lady, I want my money.”
“What if I pay you half now, and then I’ll pay…”
“What is going on in here? You just going to sit at the end of my driveway all damn day? You’re about to give my baby a heart attack.”
I look up and there’s a lady with my car door open. She’s beautiful. She looks around forty, forty-five. She has soft brown hair that falls around her face in a shaggy bob, and she has green eyes that look just like Gray’s. This woman has to be Grayson’s mother. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to meet her. I’m confused, wondering why I’m giving her a heart attack until I realize she’s looking at the driver.
“I’m leaving, Ida Sue. I’m just trying to get this woman out of my cab.”
“You can’t leave! I need you wait until I do what I came here to do!” I plead.
“What is it you came here to do?” Gray’s mom asks.
I feel my stomach knot up. “I need to talk to Grayson.”
“And why’s that?”
“That’s something I really should discuss with Grayson alone,” I tell her, even though I immediately want to apologize for being snippy.
“You’re Claudia,” she says, appraising me, and I do my best not to squirm.
“CC,” I correct her.
“You definitely have more meat on you than that other girl.”
“Did you just call me fat?” She doesn’t answer. She grabs the overnight bag beside me and drags it toward her. I grab it to stop her and she looks at me.
“You don’t want to get out without your stuff? Heaven knows what this idiot would do with it.”
“Listen, Ida Sue…” the cabbie starts.
“I’m not staying,” I argue with her.
“Then don’t.” She shrugs. “But you came a long way to chicken out.”
“I’m not chickening out,” I totally lie.
“So you were just… what? Shooting the breeze in the cab? We eat dinner in an hour and I’ve got a roast that needs my attention, so are you getting out, or staying in?”
“Lady!” The cabbie growls, but I ignore him. Instead, I’m looking at the challenge shining in Grayson’s mom’s eyes. I toss money at the cabbie, secretly enjoying how the money falls apart and scatters over the front of the seat. He’s annoying. Then, I give up my overnight bag to Grayson’s mom and, once she’s standing outside, I slide out and follow her. We don’t talk as we walk up the driveway and I feel weird. I feel like I should come up with something to say, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything. Instead, I take in the large white farmhouse, the chickens running free, the three cats lying lazily on the front porch. It’s all completely different from anything I could have pictured Grayson growing up in, even after all his tales about his family. The strangest thing is watching a baby cow waddle over to the woman and wait for her to pet him. Wow.
“Did you really name your sons after crayons?” I blurt out.
The woman turns around to look at me with a half-smile. “The world needs bright colors to make it more interesting,” she reasons, and I can’t really argue, even though it seems like the answer has nothing to do with my question.
“And apparently flowers,” I mumble, annoyed when she shakes her head and turns away from me.
She looks over her shoulder. “You’re a spicy little thing, aren’t you?” she says, laughing. “I think I’ll like you just fine for my boy.”
“I’m not with your boy.”
“Then why are you here?”
“I’m here to give him a piece of my mind.”
“If you must, dear, but I think Gray would rather have a piece of something else from you.”
I can feel my face flame at her words because the first thing that comes to mind is a picture of Gray’s body naked and lying on my bed asking me to—I stop the thought by clearing my throat.
“Whatever. I’m telling him off and then I’m going back home to Kentucky and that’s that.”
“A fine plan, dear.”
“Uh, thanks.”
“I only have one question,” she asks as she throws a stick out for the baby cow. I watch as he goes lumbering after it and doesn’t stop until he reaches it and puts it back in his mouth. Did I just watch a cow play fetch?
“What’s that?” I ask, momentarily distracted.
“Why did you have to come all the way here to give him a piece of your mind? You could have done that on the telephone, surely.”
“Well, I wanted to see his face when I told him exactly what I thought about him,” I grumble, and then realizing that I’m talking about her son, I decide to try and soften my response. “No offense.”
“None taken, dear. Gray is as stubborn as a horse’s ass. It’s good to see he’s picked a woman who matches him.”
I’m inside following her to the kitchen before it hits me that Gray’s mom just threw shade at me. Somehow, I get the feeling the woman is a master at putting people in their place. I almost… like her.
33
CC
“I love your kitchen, Ida Sue,” I say lamely. I even like her. In fact, so far, I like everything about this place, and somehow that makes me feel horrible. I needed more reasons not to like Grayson. His family, as cra
zy as they are, have nothing to do with Grayson himself. The kitchen looks like the kitchen that used to be on television for that old TV show about the family with a huge amount of kids that lived in the mountains of Virginia. I can’t remember the name now, but I remember grinning at the end when all the kids were telling each other goodnight and wishing I had a big family. Grayson can’t realize how blessed he is.
“Thanks, dear. The kids about ruined it when they remodeled, but at least they kept my kitchen table,” she says. I have no idea what she’s talking about; the room is a work of art. If this is almost ruining it, I wish someone would do it to my whole house. Plus, her kitchen table, as she calls it, looks like an outdoor picnic table covered in a large white table cloth. It has bench seating only and could probably hold an entire football team.
“I have the tomatoes sliced. I hate to be a bother, but I really need to go find Grayson so I can head back home,” I tell her, putting my knife down. In answer, she puts cucumbers down in front of me.
“These too, sweetie. Besides, Grayson’s out on the range with Blue. It will be much easier if you catch him here at supper time. Otherwise, you could be looking until dark out there in the pasture and never find him.”
“They don’t tell you where they’re working? That seems like it wouldn’t be safe. What if one of them got hurt or something?” I mumble, working with the cucumbers and wondering why things aren’t working out the way I had them planned out in my head. I’m thinking the one answer to that is Ida Sue.
“Men. Who can keep up with them?” Ida Sue says just as the back door opens up. I tense, half-hoping and half-dreading to see Gray walk through the door. It’s not, however. There’s an older man in a black cowboy hat, jeans, and a faded button-up shirt with sandy-blonde hair that has some gray mixed in. Following him is a tall man dressed much the same, but he has shaggy hair, no hat, a faded blue shirt that’s more unbuttoned than buttoned, and he looks like walking sex. He has this rumpled look about him that says he just crawled out of bed, or maybe it’s just the way those smoky brown eyes look that makes you wish he just crawled out of your bed.