The Cowboy's Texas Twins

by Tanya Michaels

  His dad’s store, though? The place where Bryant and Rachel had begun their ultimately doomed relationship?

  Ned clapped him on the back. “Of course, you’ll need time to consider it, and I’d have to crunch a lot of numbers before I could even—”

  “Mr. Garcia, thank you for the offer, but this isn’t the place for me.” When he thought of the store, he still thought about his father ranting, practically frothing at the mouth. It wasn’t a pleasant association.

  “Well, that’s disappointing but understandable. You know where to find me if you change your mind.”

  * * *

  “SO, YOU AND HADLEY...” Vi kept her tone light and her gaze on the spaghetti noodles she was pouring into the strainer, but Grayson squirmed as if under interrogation. “Is this getting serious?”

  The word lodged under his skin like a splinter. “How could it be serious? This is our first date.”

  She turned to him then, her eyebrow cocked. “Not by my count.”

  “Then you should double-check your math.”

  “Did you just sass your aunt?”

  “No, ma’am.” He backpedaled before he found himself not only signed up for another festival committee, but also chairing the damn thing.

  “All right then.” She reached into a cabinet for plates. “Will you tell the boys to wash up on your way out? Dinner’s ready.”

  He hoped they saved him some; Vi’s homemade spaghetti sauce was the best he’d ever had. But he and Hadley planned to grab burgers at the bowling alley. It might not be five-star food, but it would be five-star company.

  Whistling softly, he went into the living room, where the boys were racing cars around a plastic track. He was met with identical glares.

  “Miss Hadley is going to be sad,” Sam informed him. “Because you’re not bringing us with you.”

  “Yeah,” Tyler agreed. “She likes us.”

  “Yes, she does. She likes you a lot,” he assured them as he kneeled down. “But tonight is a dinner for grown-ups.”

  The boys exchanged glances. “So was dinner with Miss Sierra and Mr. Jarrett,” Sam said. “And we were good.”

  “Very, very good,” Tyler insisted. “We’ll behave if you take us with you.”

  “Please.” Sam’s eyes were huge.

  Saying no to that expression made Grayson feel like a monster. He might as well have come into the room growling and stomping on their toy cars. “Tell you what,” he began, “tonight I am going out with Miss Hadley by myself. But if you’re good for Vi, I’ll ask Miss Hadley to come over this weekend and have dinner with us. Deal?”

  The twins shared a look. “Will she read us a story?” Sam asked.

  Grayson bit back a laugh at the realization that he was negotiating with a five-year-old. “Well, I can’t make promises for her, but that seems like a safe bet.”

  “And can we make ice-cream sundaes when she comes over?” Tyler asked.

  Grayson tousled the boy’s hair. “Don’t push it.”

  He gave them both hugs, supervised handwashing for dinner and headed to Hadley’s house. It was a bit off the beaten path, even for Cupid’s Bow, but he’d been familiarizing himself with the roads. Late Monday night, he’d replaced faded and illegible numbers on a woman’s mailbox, and before going to work this morning he’d left a cooler of authentic lebkuchen cookies at Mr. Weber’s front door.

  Hadley’s home was a small one-story, not much bigger than Sierra and Jarrett’s place. The welcome mat said Reader Sanctuary and there was a sign by the front door that said No Soliciting... Unless You’re Selling Books. Grinning, he rang the doorbell.

  “Just a minute!” When she answered the door a few moments later, she was wearing jeans, a green T-shirt with lacy sleeves and just one sock. “Sorry,” she said as she looped her hair into a ponytail. “Today was my Wednesday off, which you would think means I’d be ready early, except I lost track of time while I was writing, and well... Give me a sec. I need to shut down the computer and get some shoes on.”

  “And your other sock,” he said, following her inside. The living room was filled with books and pictures of her family.

  She disappeared around a corner, and when she returned, she had matching socks on and a pair of sneakers in her hand. “I see you found my collection.”

  He was studying the Snoopy knickknacks on a shelf above her TV.

  “Snoopy is my dad’s favorite,” she said. “Mom used to get him Snoopy greeting cards and Christmas ornaments every year. Guess I picked it up from him.”

  His gaze landed on a figurine of Snoopy typing, hard at work on a story. “I can see why.” He turned to face her. “Since you looked me up on the internet, it only seemed fair for me to do the same. Your stories are great.”

  She froze in the act of tying a shoe. “You read one?”

  “Three, actually. Last night.” He frowned. “Is that okay?” He never would’ve mentioned them if he hadn’t liked them. “I mean, they were published for people to read. Right?”

  “Yes, of course. I want people to read them, but at the same time, they’re...part of me. Having people read them means being exposed—naked, in a way.”

  His gaze dropped over her body. “For the record, I’m pro-naked.”

  Her cheeks reddened, but she returned his smile as she stood. “You really liked them?”

  “They were fantastic and eerie as hell.” He took a step forward and tapped her forehead lightly. “There’s some surprisingly dark stuff behind those gorgeous eyes of yours.”

  Her smile grew, and she wrapped one arm around him. “Hell of a compliment.”

  “That I think you have beautiful eyes?”

  “That you think I’m dark and twisted. Just what every budding suspense author wants.”

  Cupping her face, he leaned closer. “Well, if there’s anything else you want... I aim to please.” Their kiss was thorough and languid, the kind of leisurely exploration they hadn’t had time for until now because there’d been other people around.

  But we’re alone now. That realization, along with Hadley’s soft purr of pleasure, shot heat to his groin. He kissed a trail down the side of her neck, and she tipped back her head, giving him access to the hollow of her throat.

  He swallowed. “We should probably get going, huh?” It was their first date. Probably too soon to toss her onto the nearest horizontal surface.

  She looked dazed as she met his eyes. “Yeah. Probably.” She drew a ragged breath. “Grayson, I...”

  In her face, he saw the same conflicting impulses he felt, and he kissed her gently. “Me, too.”

  They moved toward the door faster than was strictly necessary, as if they needed to leave before they changed their minds, and neither of them said much as he started up his truck. The silence in the cab was charged, and he turned on the air-conditioning even though the evening was cool.

  “Music?” he asked. He turned the radio knob, and a heavy beat filled the space between them as the singer rhapsodized about the things she wanted her lover to do to her. Wincing, Grayson turned off the radio. “Maybe not.”

  Next to him, Hadley choked back a laugh.

  Neutral topic, neutral topic. Bowling shoes weren’t sexy. As he drove toward the bowling alley, he asked her about the playfully boasting text she’d sent earlier. “You seem pretty confident that you’ll win. How’d you get so good at bowling?”

  “My dad. He used to be in the league, and he’d take me with him to practice after school.”

  “Sounds like you and your dad are pretty close.”

  “Very. He’s the one who taught me to pitch. He cheered his head off for me at all my softball games. Mom loved me, of course, but it’s like she never knew what to do with me. She and Leanne had a lot in common. When Leanne fell for the wrong guy and followed him out of state, Mom was brokenhearted. I fel
t like nothing I did made up for Leanne’s absence. Until Mom’s stroke. She and I spent days on end together, and, for the first time, we really started to understand each other. Not that I’m happy she had the stroke,” she added hastily.

  “Of course not. You’re just finding the good in something horrible that happened. I admire that about you. Until recently, I wasn’t much of a silver-lining guy. When bad things happened, I got angry and held a grudge.”

  “That must get emotionally exhausting. You can’t prevent bad things from happening,” she said softly. “So you might as well look for the good.”

  “I’m working on it.” He didn’t want the boys going through life ticked off, and, besides, Hadley was right. Being mad all the time took a lot out of a person.

  His mind went to Violet’s confession, about knowing where his mother was. After Vi gave him his mom’s phone number, he’d stuck it at the bottom of a duffel bag in his closet. He didn’t want to waste time thinking about Rachel; evidence suggested she certainly hadn’t thought much about him. But was pushing aside all thoughts of her an indication that he didn’t care, or just a sign that, deep down, he was still angry?

  “Can I ask your opinion?” he asked.

  “In Cupid’s Bow, you don’t even have to ask. People just give them freely.”

  He attempted a smile, but it didn’t take.

  “What’s up?”

  “You know my mom left when I was in first grade? Just walked out. Left a note telling my father goodbye and saying to give me a hug on her behalf. Yeah,” he said bitterly, “because a hug is definitely enough to cancel out two decades of wondering why she didn’t love you and if you’ll ever see her again.”

  Hadley made a small sound but didn’t interrupt.

  “When her father died, I thought maybe she’d come home for his funeral, but we didn’t hear a word from her. Then my dad died. But still nothing.”

  “Ever look for her on the internet?” she asked.

  “Of course. I got a few million unhelpful hits. A competitive eater in Chicago, British tabloid coverage of a model from Edinburgh. And an obituary, which scared the hell out of me until I realized it was for a ninety-four-year-old woman. After that, I couldn’t quite bring myself to try again for a long time. Miranda—the twins’ mom—once suggested I hire a PI so I started saving up money to do that. Then I thought, why? Why spend my hard-earned cash to track down a woman who wanted nothing to do with me? So I decided to just stop thinking about her.” He stared out the windshield, wondering how he would have reacted if Vi had given him the choice when he was a teenager, if he would have gone with Rachel.

  “But you’re thinking about her now. Because you’re back in Cupid’s Bow?”

  “Because Violet told me she’s been keeping a secret. When we were in high school, my mom showed up, a married woman who wanted me to come live with her and her husband.”

  Hadley gasped. “And Violet didn’t tell you?”

  “Not until recently. I don’t know that I fault her for it. Who’s to say my mom really wanted me? As soon as Violet said no, she left without putting up much protest or trying to see me. What if I’d gone with her and she and her husband eventually had a kid of their own? Would she send me back because I was extraneous?”

  “She’d be crazy to give up free built-in babysitting.”

  He snorted; an offbeat sense of humor was more soothing than pity. “Anyway, when Vi told me the truth, she gave me my mother’s phone number. Or at least, the last known number we have. If you were me...would you call? I haven’t spoken to the woman in twenty-one years.”

  “If I were you? That’s a tough one. I’ve been told I have unhealthy levels of curiosity. Whether or not calling is what’s best for you, though...”

  He turned left, the blue neon letters of the bowling alley ahead. “This is a weird first-date conversation, isn’t it? We’re supposed to be talking about our favorite movies or something.”

  “My favorite movie is based on one of my favorite books, and when I get carried away comparing what I love about each of them, people tend to get glassy-eyed and fake incoming phone calls to escape. But I’m flattered you trusted me with something so personal.” She gave him a rueful smile. “I just wish I had a better answer to give you because, honestly, I don’t know what you should do. She hurt you badly. Why give her the chance to do it again?”

  He parked the truck and unfastened his seat belt.

  “On the other hand,” Hadley said as she opened her door, “life is uncertain. Chances at closure don’t last forever. If you don’t at least try, how much will you regret it down the road?”

  Chapter Eleven

  “The food here is better than I expected,” Grayson said.

  “Too bad,” Hadley said, raising her voice to be heard over the erratic rhythm of bowling balls roaring down the lane into the pins.

  He frowned. “Why is it a shame that I like the food?”

  “Because if you didn’t, I could finish your fries for you.” She grinned, completely without shame when it came to potatoes. She’d once arm-wrestled her sister over the last of their mom’s sinfully cheesy au gratin.

  Grayson laughed. “Maybe we should get another order to split.”

  “We can after we bowl.” She raised an eyebrow. “I’m always hungry after kicking ass.”

  “Big talk. Care to make a wager on—”

  “Gambling, Mr. Cox? Tut, tut.” Sixteen-year-old Mona Flores paused by their table, holding hands with a boy about an inch shorter than her and who had a pierced eyebrow. “What kind of role model does that while impressionable kids such as myself are around?”

  Grayson turned his head, looking surprised but not displeased to see her. “Mona! What are you doing here?”

  The girl turned pointedly toward the bowling lanes, then back to him. “Playing racquetball,” she replied, deadpan.

  He snorted. “I meant, how are you out and about? Last I saw you, there was complaining about your ‘ridiculous parents’ grounding you for the rest of your natural life.”

  “Guess this must be my unnatural life then. Hi, Miss Lanier. Thanks for that book you recommended about glass sculpture. The pictures are sick. One day I’ll get out of this town and actually see some of those museum exhibits.”

  “In the meantime, go to your classes,” Grayson said. “All of them.”

  “I am.” She lifted her chin. “I even got an A minus on my math quiz today, hence the parental units letting me go out to celebrate.”

  “Nice job.” Grayson high-fived her, then turned a flinty glare to her date. “It’s a school night. Have her home early.”

  The boy choked out a startled “yessir” as Mona laughed and dragged him away.

  Watching them go, Grayson suddenly paled. “Dear Lord. I really am becoming a dad.”

  Hadley shook her head in mock-pity, charmed but not above heckling him. “We’d better go ahead and bowl before you start yelling at kids to get off your lawn.”

  They paid their bill for dinner, then headed for the counter, where they rented shoes and signed up for a lane. On weekends, there was usually a significant wait unless you called ahead and reserved one, but tonight, the crowd was moderate, evenly split between the lanes, the diner and the arcade. She was giving the attendant her shoe size when a too familiar voice behind her said, “Hey, puddin’.”

  It was her father’s pet name for her. You have got to be kidding me. She spun around slowly, as if he would vaporize into thin air given enough time. But there he was, grinning, with his arm around her mother’s waist.

  “Mom, Dad.” She managed a somewhat strangled introduction. “Grayson, these are my parents. Paul and Wanda Lanier.”

  “A pleasure to meet you. Grayson Cox.” He politely shook hands with both of them.

  “What are you two doing here?” Hadley tried to make it so
und like a cheerful, isn’t-this-a-fun-coincidence question, rather than the blatant accusation it was.

  “We were at the church potluck,” Wanda said, “and got to talking to Gayle and Harvey about how much fun it was when we used to go bowling. Then on the way home, your dad said maybe we should pop in for a few frames.”

  Uh-huh. That certainly was one possibility. Another was that Hadley had been spotted on her date sometime during the last hour and a dutiful citizen had reported in to her parents. Maybe we should have just stayed at my place. Except, based on the heated kisses they’d shared, their physical relationship would have escalated pretty quickly. Hadley wanted Grayson, but she wasn’t one for casual sex.

  Then again, judging by the wicked intensity of the man’s mouth, casual wouldn’t be the right word to describe it.

  Her face heated, and she suddenly realized her mother was staring at her. Damn blushing. It was why she always got busted and Leanne had gotten away with things when they were little.

  “Mind if we share a lane?” her dad asked Grayson.

  “Not at all. The more, the merrier,” her date said gamely.

  As the two men walked toward the racks to choose bowling balls, she overheard her father ask, “So what is it you do for a living, Grayson?”

  Just what every couple wanted for their first date—burgers, bowling and interrogation.

  “Mom...”

  Wanda smiled beatifically. “Yes, dear?”

  Hadley mentally searched her vocabulary, censoring the words too inappropriate for using with parents. “I...”

  “I’m so glad we ran in to you and your gentleman friend. We’ve heard so much about him from your sister and Miss Alma and Anne Ross. Why, we were starting to feel left out.”

  It wasn’t quite a guilt trip. More like a guilt casual outing. “Mom, we’ve only been out a couple of times. You know that if it turns in to something, I would have brought him to meet you and Daddy.”

  “Well, now you don’t have to. It’s serendipity.”

  Once they had all the necessary equipment, her dad bought them a pitcher of soda while Hadley entered their names into the system. She was rattled enough by her parents’ appearance that her first attempt was a gutter ball, but she knocked down all ten pins on her next go.