by Jami Denise
"She's wearing a bathing suit, Royal."
His eyes bugged out of his head and he looked at me like I had a rhino on my back. "What the hell kind of bathing suit is that? It's... it's too fucking small and her...” he waved his hands around in a circular fashion in front of his chest and frowned. “You know... she needs to keep her clothes on."
I had an ah-ha moment and gave him a kind smile. Boobs. In Royal's world, his daughters were still five years old. He had a hard time understanding that he had three beautiful daughters with curves and lady parts. The one thing he did understand was teenage boys. Once upon a time, he’d been one of those boys. In that moment I fully understood his temper.
"Macy, get in the truck. Let me talk to your dad."
She huffed, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. "Just so you know, you totally ruined my life!"
So dramatic.
“I highly doubt that, but we’ll talk later.”
Once she was behind closed doors, I reached over and rubbed Royal's arm. He was fuming, practically shaking with anger.
"What did you see that has you so pissed off? She looks just like all the other girls at the beach. She's not wearing anything inappropriate."
"Bullshit," he hissed, leaning closer and lowering his voice. "That little bastard had his hands in her back pockets—grabbing her ass! You know damn well that girl doesn't look the same as any of the girls on this beach! She looks too grown fucking up!"
I wanted to giggle. I didn't, but I really wanted to. I worried about boys, too. Every mother does, but I also knew it was normal for her to like boys and for boys to like her. Was I happy that the boy was touching her butt—hell no, and we'd have a conversation about that later, but having her father freak out and humiliate her was unnecessary.
"Look. You can't do things like that. You want to alienate her like my dad did? She'll end up in the back of that kid’s Ford faster than you can snap your fingers and you know it."
Rage flashed behind his eyes at the mention of her being with a boy, but I needed him to understand.
"You had your hands down my pants before my sixteenth birthday, Royal Grainger, so you need to control yourself. She's going to date boys, kiss boys, hold hands with boys, and eventually, do other things with boys. She's almost eighteen years old. Chill out before I end up with a grandbaby in the same elementary school as my son."
That seemed to trigger something because I watched as the color returned to his face.
"Fuck, I hate this. Did she have to find the biggest juvenile delinquent on the beach to suck face with? Is she trying to kill me?"
I reached up and kissed him, feeling bold, but unable to hold back. It was a huge turn-on seeing him so protective and loving toward his girls. There was nothing sexier than when he was in alpha dad mode.
"Of course she did," I purred, pulling his lip between my teeth. I let go and smiled against his lips when he groaned and pulled me into his arms. "Like mother, like daughter."
"Great," he said sarcastically.
I laughed. "Don't judge a book by its cover, Royal. My dad thought you were the devil incarnate, and you proved him wrong. He's just a kid."
I had no idea if the kid was just a kid or not. I’d get that information from Macy later. I just needed Royal to settle down.
I felt his body relax, and just as his lips came down on mine once more, there was a rap on the window. The car was turned off, so they couldn't roll the windows down, so Macy yelled through the glass.
"Get a room!"
"I guess we should go." He kissed me again, letting his tongue dance playfully with mine. I knew he was playing it up, in retaliation for the comments from the girls, but it suited me just fine. The day had turned out much better than I thought it would, and I felt the distance between us fizzling. I wasn't ready for it to end.
"I have an idea," I told him.
"Mm-hm," he mumbled against my lips.
"Give the kids money to pick up dinner on the way home, and tell them we'll meet them there," I suggested.
He smiled against my lips and then reached for the door. He popped his head inside and looked in the backseat.
"Macy, Mom's coming home with me." He dug for some money in his pocket and placed it in her hand when he got out of the truck. "Stop and pick up some pizza or something on the way home—and go straight home. I'm timing you."
She rolled her eyes at him, and I could see it was taking all he had not to start in on her again.
"You can knock that shit off, too." He gave her a pointed look, and she had the good grace to nod in acceptance. He was seldom hard on them, so she knew he was too pissed off to mess with.
"Ready?" he asked, smiling—genuinely for the first time in a while.
"Yup." I grabbed his hand and leaned into him.
"Gross," Skylar said from the front seat, making Macy laugh.
"Right? I get in trouble, but they can make out in the parking lot in front of everyone? Ugh."
We didn't stick around to listen to the rest. I wasn't tempting fate—my husband was smiling, talking, and holding my hand. We were going home—alone, and there was a very good chance we were going to have some fun when we got there. I was horny and happy and my whiney kids weren't going to spoil it.
Chapter 8
"Jenna, you should slow down. That was a yellow light."
I gripped the steering wheel tightly and bit the inside of my cheek to keep the insults from spewing out of my mouth. We'd barely made it out of Sarah's neighborhood, and she was already throwing her usual jabs.
"Sarah, the light turned yellow while I was in the intersection. Why don't you leave the driving to me, Okay?"
I heard Glenn snigger from the back seat and threw him a dirty look through the rear-view mirror. I had no idea why Sarah insisted on coming with us, anyway. She never went to his therapy appointments, hence the need for me to go. She was adamant about going, though, and I was in no mood to argue with her.
Not after spending the morning arguing with her stupid son.
Things had been going good. We'd been closer than we had in over a year and finally starting to connect on an intimate level. But it was short lived. He was back to being an evasive pain in the ass, and he hadn't touched me in all week.
He was working longer hours than usual and had been making more frequent out of town trips. I understood that he was trying to branch out and get more business, especially in some of the new building developments just out of town. Sadly, all the travel and long hours had soured his mood even more
He was emotionally absent, and I was left wanting.
So, yeah, his mother’s crazy bullshit was extra annoying.
At least the drive was short, and before long, I was pulling into the parking lot of the clinic. I got out, went to the back of the truck, and dragged Glenn’s wheelchair out of the back. I unloaded it, unfolded it, and pushed it to his side of the truck.
It was hard getting him in and out of the truck, and Sarah was no help. He outweighed me by at least sixty pounds, and since he only had the strength of his upper body, he couldn’t help much himself. I was waiting for the day when he'd flop out and flatten me against the asphalt of the parking lot.
Not only was it physically a pain in the ass, but he was such a grumpy old bear all the time. His lack of gratitude was grating on my nerves, and I was ready to snap on him any minute.
I tried not to feel that way. I loved him, and what happened to him was a horrible tragedy. It’d been five years since the day he went over the side of the road on his motorcycle, and all of our lives were turned upside down. No one had been the same since. Especially Glenn.
Losing his leg and mobility destroyed him.
Because of that, I never once complained to a soul about taking him to the doctor appointments. Sarah couldn’t handle it on her own, and he wouldn’t allow Tara to help, so it was me. Our physical therapy visits brought us closer, in fact, although I wanted to punch him in the junk most of the time for being
so stubborn.
Once I got him signed in, I took a seat next to Sarah and grabbed my book to read while we waited.
"I'd like to go in with you if that's all right, honey," Sarah said softly, patting Glenn's arm.
A small smile pulled at my lips. Glenn never let me go in with him. I wasn't sure if it was his pride or his stubbornness, or a little of both, but he insisted that I wait in the lobby while he finished his appointments.
It didn't bother me. I waited patiently and read. It wasn't like I could do anything for him in there, anyway. I had to admit that I wasn't too gung-ho on watching him struggle, either. He didn't like being seen as vulnerable or weak, and that's exactly how he'd feel if we were to interfere. I just wasn't sure how Sarah would handle the rejection.
"Sure, Ma. That's fine. You'll be bored, though."
My head shot up, the shock obvious on my face. He shrugged his shoulders and looked down, but I understood the expression on his face. He wanted his mommy. It figured. She babied them—both him and Royal—and they ate it up.
"Will you be all right out here alone, Jenna?" Sarah said, looking concerned.
I smiled. "I'll be fine." I held up my book and gave it a shake. "I have a book to read, and I always wait out here. I just let him do his thing."
She nodded, seemingly pleased that I wasn't upset, and grabbed a magazine off the table next to her. She thumbed through it quietly before she spoke up again.
"Royal mentioned that he saw Lana Adams recently. We'll have to have her over for dinner, Glenn. She was always such a darling girl."
It felt like I'd been hit in the stomach by an anvil. I swung my head around to gawk at her. Had I heard her correctly? Had she actually brought Lana Adams up in front of me? Called her a darling girl? And had Royal actually talked about her to his mother?
Flashes of rage blasted behind my eyes like lit sparklers. The woman was crazier than I gave her credit for.
I clenched my teeth—hard—and breathed through my nose so I wouldn’t pass out. God, the woman could be such a bitch. A bitch with the brain of an idiot. Sometimes, she could be so inconsiderate. I wanted to grab her by the hair and shake the stupid out of her.
Unbelievable!
"I hear she looks better than ever. All that sunshine, I guess. She was always such a beautiful girl, so lively and fun-loving. I enjoyed having her at the house."
Her tone was nonchalant and innocent enough, but I could tell she was throwing a jab at me. For the most part, Sarah was always kind to me. We got along okay, but she always blamed me for Royal dropping out of school, even if she never straight out said so. She should’ve been proud that he stepped up to the plate to take care of me and the kids, but she could never let go of her dream of bigger and better things.
God forbid she did better for herself. Leave it to her sons to take care of her.
I never felt an ounce of guilt for the life I shared with Royal, but there had been times when I thought she resented me and the fact that Royal stepped up—unlike his own father. She used their father leaving her alone to her advantage, which pissed me off to no end. They’d both been very young. She had plenty of opportunities to do better for herself.
I didn’t know much about her marriage to their father, and Royal was only around five when he left, so he didn’t know much. Glenn never, ever, talked about him. Ever. But they both lived under the assumption that that it was their job to take care of her. I always found it admirable that Royal was so close to his mom and that he had so much love and respect for her. As the years went on, though, I saw through her manipulations and guilt trips and read them for what they were—pathetic cries for attention.
She was very calculated. She loved her sons, but she also didn’t like to share them. The worst of that came out after Glenn’s accident. Not once did she try to convince him to go back to his family, Tara and Lily, even though she knew how miserable he was without them. She didn’t get along with Tara, mostly because Tara didn’t put up with any of her crap.
Sarah brought me out of my inner grumbling with her hand on my arm. "You remember Lana, don't you, Jenna?"
I didn't answer. She was pissing me off, and I felt my nerves crumbling. She knew damn well that I knew her, and more than that, she knew everything that skank put me through.
"They don't exactly get along, Mom," Glenn said with a frustrated sigh.
Sarah looked between the two of us before snapping her fingers. "I remember now. They were still dating when Royal met you, right?"
I gave my head a swift shake. "No, Sarah, they weren't dating. He was still screwing her in the back of his van from time to time, but I wouldn’t call that a relationship."
She gasped, and I almost felt bad. Almost. She had a way of nudging me toward a cliff, like a splinter underneath your fingernails.
"The woman is a bitter shrew. She needs to stay away from my husband."
“Not sure it’s a good idea having her around, Mom. She’s always had an evil streak when it came to Jenna.”
I leaned forward so he could see me better and mouthed thank you.
Sarah was quiet, probably silently wigging out because of my language. That was just too damn bad. Bringing Lana up was rude, and she’d done it on purpose to get a rise out of me. The rise she got was probably more than she expected, especially in public.
Thankfully, Glenn was called in quickly, leaving me in the waiting room alone with my book. I was lost in thought and not really concentrating on the words in front of me when my phone rang.
It was Melissa.
“Hey Melissa, what’s up?”
She sighed, and I closed my book and ran my hand through my hair. Shit.
I had a bad feeling I was about to lose my days off. Days I needed for my own mental sanity.
“So, I just got a call from my professor and I have to retake this test I screwed up and the only time he has available is today before four o’clock. I’m so sorry, Jenna. I wouldn’t ask you—you know I wouldn’t—if it weren’t super important. I’m so, so sorry.”
I knew she was. She was a good girl, and she had a tough schedule between school and working at the salon. It was a lot for a young girl, and she was doing it all on her own. I wanted to support her.
“Okay, Melissa. It’s no problem. I’m with Glenn at physical therapy at the moment, so I won’t be there for at least another hour and a half. What time do you need to leave? Can Tara handle it until I get there?”
“Thank you!” she cheered. “That gives me plenty of time. Thanks again, Jenna. I owe you one. Seriously.”
I chuckled and threw my bookmark between the pages to save my place. “You bet you do. I’ll see you in a bit.”
* * *
"Here, wear this one."
It was bordering on ridiculous that my husband had to be so difficult about even the simplest of tasks.
"I hate this shirt. Why am I getting dressed like this again? We're not even going anywhere."
I huffed. He acted like it was going to kill him to wear a dress shirt for one night. He'd live—I wasn't going to give in. I didn't want t-shirts at the dinner table.
I grabbed my brush from the vanity and dragged it swiftly through my hair.
"Because I want to have a nice dinner party. I worked hard on dinner, and we're having guests. I told you all of this three days ago."
Of course, he probably hadn't been listening to me, but I was used to that. I just wanted to have a nice, normal dinner. I wanted to set the table with my best dishes—the ones I never got to use—have my family interact like normal human beings and enjoy our guests. It wasn't a lot to ask, but apparently, everyone wanted to make it difficult.
We hadn’t had a real dinner party in years. Usually dinner with friends and family was an all-out fiasco with kids, the grown kids, and lots of beer and food. For once, I wanted to do something really nice.
Plus, I had ulterior motives. I’d met a very nice guy when I’d taken Melissa’s clients a few weeks before. As soon a
s he walked through the door, I knew he’d be perfect for Abbie. She needed a guy like Jason. He was older but so handsome and had one of the best smiles I’d ever seen. Right away we hit it off, and I learned quite a bit about him in the half hour it took to cut his hair.
He was a widower, had just relocated from Texas to get away from the memories of losing his wife and to start over. He decided he wanted to be by the ocean and settled on our little Northern California beach town to make his new beginning.
Plus, he was a doctor.
"Who's this guest again?" Royal said, interrupting my inner ramblings.
"Dr. Hutchens—Jason."
"Oh," he said. "We call him Jason?"
I turned around and gave him a warning look. “Don’t be like that. God! He’s a very nice man, and he’s new to town and alone. Can we just be nice and keep him company?”
He groaned but made no other comments while he buttoned his shirt. I hadn’t expected him to be thrilled with my idea, but some cooperation once in a while would’ve been nice. Sometimes he was difficult just to be difficult.
"I'm going to finish up in the kitchen. My bread is probably ruined."
I turned to walk out of the room but stopped and turned back to face him. "And Royal, please be on your best behavior tonight. He's not one of your rowdy friends. Let's make him feel welcome, okay?"
He smiled, and it made me nervous. I cursed myself for even bringing it up. My husband could be a real shit.
Difficult fucking Graingers.
I'd stressed over what to prepare for dinner for days but finally settled on prime rib. Everyone loved my prime rib, and it always turned out perfect. I usually reserved making it for special occasions, but I wanted to do something special. I paired it with seared garlic green beans, twice-baked potatoes, and homemade sourdough loaves.
The whole house smelled delicious, and I hoped it'd make Jason feel welcome. The girls were getting excited about our new guest, especially Skylar. She'd shown an interest in medicine as a career path and had a specific interest in sports medicine. She was looking forward to picking his brain.