The Opposite of Wild

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The Opposite of Wild Page 19

by Kylie Gilmore


  After everyone had taken their fill of dinner and dessert, Maggie hit them with the purpose of this entire evening.

  “Jorge and I have an announcement.”

  Jorge took her hand across the table, and Ryan’s eyes narrowed at the sight.

  “We’re getting married. The third Saturday in September. It was the earliest the church was available, and Jorge really wanted a church wedding.”

  Jorge and Maggie looked lovingly into each other’s eyes.

  “Omigod!” Liz blurted.

  “Congratulations,” Shane said slowly.

  “That’s less than a month away,” Trav said. “It’s so…wow.”

  “You!” Ryan stood and jabbed a finger at Jorge. “You think you can just take advantage of an old lady, move into her house, and take over? You think she’ll leave you the house? Put you in the will?” He leaned menacingly across the table. “I won’t have it.” His fist pounded the table for emphasis, and the dishes clattered.

  Liz blinked. She’d never seen him angry. It was intimidating. She glanced at Jorge, who remained calmly seated.

  “Ryan, cool it,” Shane said.

  “You won’t have it?” Maggie’s voice rose in volume, matching her oldest grandson’s. “No one asked you. Jorge and I are in love.”

  Jorge kissed Maggie’s hand. “It’s true. And I’m not trying to get her house. That never even crossed my mind. We just want to be together. Your grandmother makes me happy.”

  Aww…so sweet. They all looked to Ryan to see how he took that announcement.

  Ryan shoved a frustrated hand through his hair. “Gran, you’ve known this bozo for what, a month? And now you’re going to marry him?”

  “He’s not a bozo!” Maggie exclaimed hotly.

  Jorge placed a soothing hand on her arm. “It’s okay, love.”

  “No, it’s not okay!” Maggie glared at Ryan.

  “Sorry,” Ryan said, not sounding all that sorry. “All I’m saying is, what’s the rush? Be reasonable, take things slow.”

  “Ryan is right. There’s no rush,” Trav interjected. “It’s not like you’re pregnant.”

  Liz sucked in an audible breath, and Ryan looked at her for a long moment. She turned her attention back to Maggie.

  “In case you forgot, I’m seventy-two years old.” Maggie lifted her chin defiantly. “I don’t have time to take things slow. Jorge already spends most nights here—”

  “Great,” Ryan muttered.

  “And he makes me happy,” Maggie continued. “I want to see him when I go to bed at night and when I wake up in the morning.”

  “Maggie,” Jorge murmured. “Mi amor.”

  Ryan glared at Jorge, then turned to Liz. “Did you know about this?”

  Liz swallowed. “I knew they were close.”

  Ryan turned to Shane.

  “I knew they were close too,” Shane said, “but—”

  “Why am I the last to know anything around here!” Ryan exploded.

  Trav raised a hand. “I didn’t know.”

  Ryan’s stormy expression said that didn’t help.

  Liz spoke up. “I’m happy for Maggie, though I agree it’s sudden.”

  “I’m happy for you too, Gran,” Shane said.

  Trav nodded his agreement.

  Ryan’s mouth opened and closed. With nothing left to say, he stormed out of the house.

  Maggie turned to Jorge. “That went about as well as I expected.”

  “We’ll clean up, Gran,” Shane said, jerking his head at Trav to grab some dishes. The two disappeared into the kitchen while Jorge comforted Maggie.

  “I’ll help too,” Liz said, rising from the table.

  “No, you’re a guest,” Maggie insisted. “You just relax.”

  “Are you sure?” Liz asked.

  “We’ve got this,” Shane called.

  “I’d love for you to be my maid of honor, Liz,” Maggie said.

  “Of course I will!” Liz crossed to Maggie and hugged her. “Congratulations, you two. I’m so happy for you.”

  “Thank you, dear,” Maggie said.

  Trav appeared in the dining room. “Can you smooch Ryan out of his bad mood?”

  “Go see him, honey,” Maggie urged. “You’re probably the only one he’d talk to right now.”

  “Okay,” Liz said uncertainly. She had no idea what she’d say to him. “Thank you for dinner.” She headed outside, and in the lingering light of a late sunset, she caught a glimpse of Ryan stalking down the sidewalk toward his house. “Wait up!”

  He kept going.

  She hurried down the sidewalk. “Ryan!”

  No response. The man could move when he wanted to.

  “I said wait up, you blockhead!” she yelled.

  That got him. He stopped and slowly turned around. Then he marched back toward her. She met him halfway.

  “Did you just call me a blockhead?” he asked through clenched teeth.

  “Not me. I called you a reasonable, devoted grandson.” She held back a smile.

  He crossed his arms and fixed her with an annoyed stare. “Don’t expect me to be happy that Gran is shacking up with her dance teacher.”

  Okay, she understood it was a shock. He hadn’t been at dance class to see how they were together. How they danced together so beautifully. The adoring looks. Their chemistry.

  She put a comforting hand on his arm. “Don’t you want her to be happy? She told me she’s been a widow for more than twenty years. She finally found someone. I don’t think Jorge will take advantage of her.”

  “You don’t know that! That house is worth something. What if he convinces her to sign it over to him? What if he steals her social security checks?”

  “He said he loves her,” Liz said. “I think it’s beautiful.”

  “And you.” He jabbed a finger in her direction. “Leaving me hanging all week”—he gestured wildly—“not returning my calls. What is that, Liz?”

  “I texted you,” she said in a small voice. But she knew she was in the wrong. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t talk about it.”

  Some of the anger seemed to go out of him. He stepped close, smoothing a lock of her hair behind her ear. “You don’t have to be alone in this.”

  She stepped back, resisting his warm touch. She was too emotional, too conflicted over her simultaneous longing for the pregnancy since her nephew’s arrival and her terror over the complications of raising a child that he didn’t want. “I’m fine. Really.”

  He studied her. “Well, good. I admit I’ve been scared shitless all week. Just let me know as soon as you know. Okay?”

  Her fears were confirmed. He didn’t want children. This entire fling had been a huge mistake.

  “Okay?” he prompted at her silence.

  She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat.

  He looked off down the street toward his house and turned back to her. “You want to come over?”

  Bad idea. She was in no mood for casual sex. They’d passed casual on the way to a pregnancy test.

  She shook her head. “I’m pretty tired so—”

  “We don’t have to…we could just, you know, hang out.” He shoved his hands in his pockets.

  “Not tonight, okay? I’ll see you later.” And even though it was painful, she turned away.

  He grabbed her arm and spun her back around, enfolding her in his arms. Too exhausted to fight her need for this small bit of comfort, she sighed deeply and wrapped her arms around him.

  “Daisy had the baby,” she said into his chest.

  “What?” He pulled back to look into her eyes.

  “Daisy had the baby. A healthy baby boy.”

  “That’s good. You’re an aunt. Congratulations.”

  Her throat tightened. “She named him Bryce because a nurse told her it meant swift. He was in a hurry to get here.” She tried to laugh, but it turned into a sniffle. She brushed a tear away.

  He looked alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

&n
bsp; She shook her head. “Nothing. I’ve got to go.”

  And this time, he let her.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Two days later, Ryan pulled a fancy envelope out of his mail pile and ripped it open.

  You are invited to the wedding of Margaret O’Hare and Jorge Chavez

  Saturday, September 19th at one o’clock

  St. Joseph’s Church

  179 Main Street

  Clover Park, Connecticut

  Bring your dancing shoes for the Happy Ever After party to follow!

  RSVP by September 12th

  __Accept with pleasure

  __Decline with regret

  Gran was really going through with this. He marched out the door, headed straight to Gran’s house to talk some sense into her. It’s too soon. He knew it in his gut. Gran hardly knew this loser.

  He stopped on the sidewalk, switched gears. Maybe he should shake some sense into Jorge first. Where did that jackass live? Oh, right, with Gran. They were already shacking up. His hands tightened into fists.

  He arrived at her house and checked for Jorge’s car. He must be at work. He knocked once and let himself in. She’d left it unlocked again.

  “Gran!” he barked.

  His grandmother appeared from the back of the house. “Lower your voice, Ryan. I can tell by the wild look on your face that you got the invitation, so have a seat and let’s talk.”

  She wore a bright red T-shirt and jeans that were too tight for a woman her age. Who did she think she was fooling? She was a grandmother, not a teenager. She should be wearing one of her flowery dresses or something more…senior citizen friendly.

  She gestured for him to sit in one of the chairs in the living room, and she took the sofa.

  “Gran, you can’t marry this guy—”

  “I can, and I will.”

  He steepled his fingers. Remain calm. Reason with her. “But what do we really know about him?”

  She met his eyes with a steady gaze. “I know all I need to know, and I hope you will get to know him better soon.”

  Ryan leaned forward. “What’s the rush?”

  “When it’s right, it’s right,” she said.

  “How can it be right? The guy’s, what…twenty years younger, and you’ve known him for five minutes! It’s not happening.” He set his jaw, determined to get through to her. “You haven’t been the same since your accident. Someone has to look out for your best interests. You sure as hell aren’t thinking clearly.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Ryan O’Hare! You will not speak to me like a child. I’m happy, and I’m doing this.”

  He pitched his voice low and steady. “Not if I have anything to say about it.”

  “You don’t,” Gran said firmly.

  He blew out a breath of frustration. “I don’t know what to say. This just feels wrong.”

  “Say you’re happy for me,” she said with a small smile. “Be our best man, because you are a great man. That’s how I raised you.”

  He rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes over the headache forming there. “Dammit,” he muttered.

  The next thing he knew, Gran had her arms around him. “I love you.” She patted his back. “Now shoo. Everything will work out. You’ll see.”

  There was nothing he could do to stop the wedding. Or was there? He could run a background check on Jorge to see if there was any dirt. Then he and Jorge could have a little talk. Man to man.

  He stood. “Okay. I’d better get back to work.”

  She nodded and walked with him to the door. He’d just pushed it open when she said, “Your father will be at the wedding with his girlfriend, Gina.”

  He turned around, and she shut the door in his face. End of discussion.

  Great. Now he had his grandmother throwing her life savings away on some tango-dancing asshole, his drunk old man showing up after seventeen years with some bimbo, and the one person he actually gave a damn about too spooked over a pregnancy scare to see him. If he was a drinking man, this would be the perfect time. Instead, he went for a run and didn’t stop until he could think of nothing but the next step, the next breath, and the pounding of his heart.

  ~ ~ ~

  That night Ryan waited in the shadows in the parking lot of the Jorge Chavez Dance Studio, refusing to step foot in that seducer’s so-called dance class. Major pick-up scene obviously. If he’d known that, he would’ve made sure Gran never signed up in the first place. The background check had come up with zilch, but that didn’t mean Ryan was gonna let the guy off easy. By the time all the students had left the dance studio, he’d worked up an even bigger mad. Just one good punch. That’s all he needed.

  Finally, Jorge stepped outside.

  “Yo, Jorge!” he called across the empty parking lot.

  Jorge looked around, and Ryan stepped out into the light of a nearby streetlight, crossing the lot to the older man.

  “Hello, Ryan, what brings you here tonight?” Jorge gave him an open, friendly smile, acting like nothing had ever happened that might piss someone off. “My dance studio is closed, but we reopen tomorrow at three.”

  Ryan restrained himself. He wasn’t a bully. Still, the man was trying to pull one over on Gran.

  “What’s the hurry to marry my grandmother?” Ryan demanded. “Hoping to cash in on her life insurance? Inherit a nice house?” He glowered at the older man, a look that had sent the guilty to confessing back in his cop days.

  “I know what you’re doing,” Jorge said in a soothing tone. “Protecting Maggie, but it’s not necessary. I love her.” He put his hand on his heart. “I swear that’s all.”

  Ryan grabbed the front of Jorge’s shirt and yanked him up close. “If you hurt her or take one cent from her, you’ll find yourself in jail so fast you’ll do one of those tango spins you like so much.”

  Jorge swallowed visibly. “I lost my wife five years ago to cancer.”

  Ryan dropped his hold. “I didn’t know that.”

  Jorge straightened out his white button-down shirt. “I’ve learned to grab happiness where I can.” His eyes welled up. “I never thought I’d love again.”

  Ryan felt an unwelcome pang of sympathy. “All right, shut up already.”

  Jorge did not shut up. “Your grandmother’s so full of life. She might even outlive me. If anything does happen to her, I’ll make sure she leaves everything to you and your brothers.”

  Now he felt like an asshole. Ryan wasn’t angling to get Gran’s inheritance. He just didn’t want this bozo to have it.

  “Good.” Ryan turned and headed back to his car.

  “It would mean so much to Maggie and me if you were our best man,” Jorge called across the deserted parking lot.

  “Fine!” Ryan barked, not bothering to turn around. He hit the remote to unlock his car and slid in. None of this craziness would’ve happened if Gran hadn’t been in that accident and gone nuts about “living life to the fullest.” He lived life to the fullest, and you didn’t see him running off to marry Liz. And he knew her a helluva lot better than Gran knew Jorge. Liz was beautiful and kind and full of fire if you knew what buttons to push. And he did.

  Not that she’d have you.

  He hadn’t been alone with Liz in a week. He peeled out of the lot and blasted the radio. He just wanted to talk to someone who’d understand the whole Gran craziness.

  He wanted Liz.

  ~ ~ ~

  School was starting in two weeks, and with the classroom prep and meetings she had to go to, Liz realized she wouldn’t be able to fly out to see Daisy and Bryce until after the first week of school on the long holiday weekend for the Jewish high holy days. Her mother would be returning just days before Liz’s first staff meeting. Daisy would be on her own for ten days, but hopefully with their mother’s help, she’d get the hang of the baby thing quickly. Liz entered the dates into the travel discount website to find a nonstop flight.

  The doorbell rang. She peered through the peephole. Ryan! Shoot. She looked dow
n at her yellow pajama pants with smiling monkey faces and matching pajama top and sighed. It wasn’t like she was trying to seduce him at this point. In fact, she wasn’t sure what to do about him. She still didn’t know if she was pregnant. So where did that leave them? Her life didn’t make sense anymore.

  She opened the door.

  “Hey, Liz,” he said in his deep voice that sent a shiver of anticipation down her spine despite everything. “Can I come in?”

  She stepped back. “Of course, what’s up?”

  “Did you get the wedding invitation?”

  Ah, Maggie trouble. Well, that’s easier than trying to figure out what to do about a maybe baby.

  “I did,” she said gently. “Have a seat. Can I get you a drink?”

  “Sure, I’ll take some water.” He sank down heavily on the sofa.

  She headed for the kitchen. She missed him, missed his touch. But she didn’t want to sleep with him again before she knew what was what. Pregnant or not pregnant were two radically different paths for her future. She poured two glasses of water and joined him on the sofa, crossing her legs primly.

  “So, you’re upset about Maggie getting married,” Liz said.

  His eyebrows drew together, and he gave her a look that said she was Queen of the Obvious.

  “Your grandmother’s happy,” Liz said. “And it’s her life. I think we should just give her this bit of happiness, even if it seems sudden.”

  He threw his hands up. “There’s nothing I can do about it. She won’t listen. And Jorge practically cried telling me he loved her.” His lip curled on this last bit.

  “Why would he cry?” she asked with growing alarm. Had Ryan threatened him? He was very angry that night.

  He waved that away. “Wimp. I don’t know. Anyway, it’s done. I’m the best man. End of story.”

  “Really?” She shook her head. “Wow. That’s wonderful. I thought…well, you seemed so upset—”

  “I don’t have to be happy about it.”

  “No, you don’t.” She smiled inwardly. He was putting Maggie first, even when that included things he wasn’t happy about. He was a good grandson. A good guy.

 

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