Steel Country Boxset

by Fields, MJ

  I am also excited that, with added responsibility, seems to come added me time. Two people have been added to our staff of now five, including Dad and I. Phoenix and I will always work nights together. Those also happen to be the only two nights I am now scheduled to work. Pearl and I will work Monday through Friday days, and I will do a swing shift Friday night. Saturday, I will be working during the day, unless we have live entertainment, which for the next three weeks while he is gone, we won’t.

  Dad thinks it’s too much for me. I think, if that’s what it takes to see him smile even if it’s just every so often, and it makes the possibility of us both living more and existing less, I will do just about anything.

  I walk out of my room to find Dad at the counter with my coffee. When he hands it to me, I take a big sip.

  “You look beautiful, Mandee,” he says, and I nearly choke. “Just like your mother.”

  The choking sensation is replaced with a smile and tears filling my eyes.

  He continues, “I trust you. And although this is going to be hard, the thought of you...” He stops and looks down. “I don’t want you to not live, Mandee.”

  “I don’t want that for you, either,” I tell him.

  He nods. “I’m trying, Doodlebug.”

  The word “Doodlebug” brings a smile to my face. He hasn’t called me that since I was about ten.

  “Still that girl.” He nods and clears his throat. “Not crayons, paints, or tape anymore, but still always happiest when creating. That’s your gift. Your mom knew it. I must have forgot. Seeing you with that planner, the decorations in the new addition, I’m thinking maybe when I get back, maybe that’s your focus—events.”

  I set my cup down and hug him tightly. “Are you sure?”

  “Yeah, Doodlebug, I’m sure.” He squeezes me back. “You better get up to the Landing. Those girls are gonna need you and your attention to detail. Nothing more important than the day you commit to loving one person for the rest of your life.”

  “In sickness and in health, Daddy,” I tell him, hoping that’s a reminder that the vows he said didn’t say you died the day the person you loved did. “You did that. You—”

  He kisses the top of my head then steps back. “I know that. Now get out of here. I’ll see you at the bar.”

  “You mean the venue?” I smile.

  “Sure do, Doodlebug.”

  Turning down the driveway about a quarter mile past the main drive into Falcon’s Landing, onto the dirt road to Garrett and Juliana’s home, the place they will get married, my phone rings.

  I hit the control on my steering wheel and say hello.

  “Good morning, Mandee.”

  “Morning, Blue.”

  “You heading up to see Phoenix?”

  “Yep, it’s the big day,” I say, allowing my excitement to sound in my voice, and he laughs.

  “I know you’ll be busy. I just wanna make sure you’ll save me a dance.”

  “Of course,” I answer as my thoughts fly to that one sentence Grayson spoke to me. Then I push the thoughts of Grayson out of my mind and say goodbye to Blue.

  I put my vehicle in park and step out. I scan the cars in search of his motorcycle, but I don’t see it. I breathe out a sigh of relief, and then in a breath of pure nervousness as I walk past the garage toward the front porch. I stop when I hear a guitar playing, thoughts of all those years ago flooding me.

  “Like that?” I hear a little boy’s voice and know it’s Brandon.

  Then I hear his. “Just like that, little man.”

  “Am I ever gonna be as good as you?” Brand asks, and I wait for clarification, because in my head, I know. Then I cover my mouth to stifle realization’s gasp.

  “Gonna be better than me,” Garrett says on a laugh. “I didn’t start playing until my folks bought this place when I was much older than you. Didn’t even play in front of anyone.”

  “Where did you play?” Brand asks.

  “I played for the trees, the lake, and the wind,” he answers.

  “Did ya always sing?” Brand asks.

  “Always tried.” Gray laughs. “Never very good at it.”

  “Dad and Xavier think you have something special. They think you could be a star,” Brand tells him.

  “Only star I care to be is one in your eyes, little man. How am I doing?”

  Brand laughs. “Really good, Uncle Gray. Really, really good.”

  I hear a door squeak as it opens.

  “Needs some oil.” I think it’s Garrett’s voice.

  “I’ll get it, Dad,” Brand says, and then I hear little footsteps coming toward me.

  My first thought is to run and hide, but I can’t, not today, maybe not ever. Therefore, I put one foot in front of the other as I now breathe in courage.

  As soon as I walk around the porch, Brand runs right into me, and we both topple over.

  “I’m sorry, little lady. Are you okay?” Brand asks, jumping up quickly.

  I can’t help laughing.

  “Everything okay?”

  I look away from Brand to see Garrett Falcon walking toward me.

  “Think I ruined her pretty dress, Dad,” Brand says, and I look down.

  Quickly, I grab the hem to hide my now showing sexy panties as I scoot around, trying to pull it down since it’s stuck under my ass.

  I hear a chuckle and look up.

  Grayson.

  “Might be easier to stand up.” He walks past Garrett, stands in front of Brand, and holds out his hand.

  When I scowl at him, he shakes his head, lips quirked a bit. Then he bends down and grabs my elbow. When I yank it back, both his eyebrows shoot up.

  “Dad, she has black...” Brand begins, and then I hear a muffled, “panties.”

  “Come on, Brand; let’s go grab that oil.” Garrett chuckles.

  Gravel crunches as they walk away, and then Gray squats down.

  He’s close, too damn close, as he lifts his sunglasses. His eyes, those deep brown eyes, stare intently at me, so close I think he’s doing it purposely to swallow me up whole in his scent, his presence...him.

  “Black?”

  “What?” I gasp, knowing exactly what he means.

  “Liked the white a hell of a lot better,” he says, trying his best not to smirk.

  “They aren’t for you,” I hiss quietly.

  All playfulness and expression leaves his face. “Blue gonna finally get up inside that?”

  “Who says he hasn’t already?” I ask, pushing myself up to stand. Then I walk around him.

  I swear I hear a growl.

  “Let Blue have it.”

  I don’t like how I respond to him, like I am constantly playing defense, almost selling myself, and I am no one’s whore.

  I force myself to turn and face him. Immediately, I am infuriated. I poke him in the chest, and his eyes widen in an almost shock, but then narrow again quickly.

  “Maybe you need to talk to someone about your indecisiveness, Grayson. One minute, he can’t touch me. The next, you won’t. And now you’re giving me ‘permission’?” I air quote. “I don’t need your permission.” I poke him again, and now...now I know he growled because he does it again. “Just leave me alone.”

  He grabs my hand and pulls me hard against him, shocking me. “After that shit in college, you shouldn’t be so damn willing to put yourself at the mercy of a man who just wants to fuck you, Mandee.” He lets go of me and steps back. “Me indecisive?” he huffs. “Consider yourself lucky I’m doing the right thing by you. Blue? Blue isn’t your fucking color, hot lips.” He looks down at my chest and sees what I know is my nipples poking straight out like arrows to what is my damn color—Gray. “You do need to get laid, though. It’s a pity you’re friends with my future sister-in-laws and that I have to worry about my fucking family.”

  “What does that even mean?” I call out as he turns and walks away.

  He turns to look back at me. “Stay away. It means, stay the hell away,” he s
ays, teeth clenched.

  “Everything okay?” I look to see a woman, who is no doubt his mother, walking toward us.

  Grayson puts his arm around her and turns her. He kisses the top of her head and says, “It’s a great day to be alive.”

  She puts her arm around his waist and laughs. “If you say so, Grayson.”

  “I do.”

  She looks back at me, and from everything Phoenix has told me about her, I expect a look meant to kill. What I get is a smile. But before I have a chance to give her one back, they are gone.

  It takes little time to collect myself. I’m used to this—acting like everything is okay. I just take a deep breath and walk around the house, covering my heart with my hand.

  “Looks good?”

  I look back as Phoenix walks off the porch toward me and nod, unable to speak for fear I may cry.

  Phoenix is the one person I don’t have to hide tears from. She would no doubt think it was just a normal Mandee moment, lost in love and happy ever afters.

  “You’ll ruin your makeup,” she says, walking toward me.

  “I brought more,” I tell her as I look at the scene before me. “This is everything and more than I envisioned,” I tell her, wiping a few fallen tears away as I look at what will be the alter, country-fied.

  Two barn doors are the backdrop to the stage where they will say their I do’s. There are hay bales lined up like pews covered in burlap, a burlap aisle runner, and everything except flowers and the bows on the ends of the rows.

  “Flowers?” I ask Phoenix.

  “Juliana said it’s perfect.”

  I shake my head. “Pew bows?”

  “She said—”

  “Go inside, get dressed, and give me twenty minutes.”

  I don’t wait for her to say anything, I start looking around for flowers.

  I see the woman, who I know must be Mags, coming down the hill in a scooter as I begin walking toward an overgrown field, hoping to find at the very least some white flowers. I’m almost tempted to grab my phone and message Dad to have him grab some of the flowers from the bar and bring them, but I know I have less than an hour, and unless I find some within ten minutes, it will not be perfect.

  The scooter stops a few feet from me. “Where you headed, sweet girl?”

  “Mags?” I smile.

  “Mandee?” She smiles back.

  I reach out and shake her hand while I tell her, “Seems the flowers didn’t make it here and the pew”—I laugh—“though I should say bail bows, didn’t make it, so I’m just hoping to come across something I’m probably not going to find up here.”

  “What kind of magic are you looking for?” she asks, still smiling.

  “White, red, heck, even brown flowers, just to add some pop to the alter.”

  “Sweet girl, there is no more magical place than Falcon’s Landing,” she tells me with an almost mischievous smile. “You been here, right?”

  I nod.

  “Right next to Phoenix’s cabin is mine. That’s where my boy Gray crashes most nights. Well, when he’s not in the woods. That boy is hard to hold down.”

  I do my best to keep a smile on my face, waiting for her to continue, and cross my fingers at my sides, hoping to keep this smile on, even though she mentioned his name.

  “I love sunflowers. There are a million of them out there in some of my flower beds.”

  Sunflowers and burlap are going to totally clash with the black and red, I think to myself.

  “There are more than just that. Lots and lots of flowers to choose from.” She starts up her scooter. “Let me go get one of the boys to take—”

  “No, they’re all so busy. I’m sure I can manage. I’ll be just a few minutes. Thank you.”

  I hurry as fast as I can, hoping not to break a sweat and ruin my hair that I know is absolutely perfect today, as I make my way to the cabins.

  Once I get there, I walk out back and see the sunflowers. They are so tall, at least eight feet, and although sunflowers were never my favorite, I am instantly changed.

  I walk around them to see what else I can find, and my heart leaps to my throat when I see the beautiful red Gerber daisies growing in one, two, three, four, five rows.

  I look up toward Heaven and smile as tears once again come to my eyes.

  “It’s a great day to be alive, Mom,” I say as I swipe away the first fallen tear. “Thank you. Thank you so much.”

  I thank her because, as often as I think about her, it seems that the little tells or signs she used to send to me when I was at my lowest, starting with the man in the woods, have been coming few and far between.

  More tears fall because I feel I am able to let loose the guilt I still feel for pushing my father to a near breaking point just a few days ago.

  I bat away the tears as I walk over and bend down to pick the first of the flowers. I hold it to my nose and more tears fall.

  Okay, okay, I almost laugh at myself. Stop. It’s a happy day.

  “I got the daisies picked for a wedding day,” I begin singing my own words to the of tune of most inspiring song I can imagine, “Great Day To Be Alive.” “I got signs from Heaven it will be okay. It’s a perfect thing, but I just got to sing, so I know I’m doing life right. It’s a great day to be alive. The sun is shining when I close my eyes. There’s some hard times in the neighborhood, but why can’t everyone’s love be this good.”

  From behind me, I hear, “You do know those aren’t the words, don’t you?”

  My body stiffens immediately, embarrassment, anger...definitely embarrassment, flood me. But I will not let him mess up this moment.

  I turn around and shake my head. “Can you just leave me alone?”

  “Could, but Mags would have my ass,” he says, pushing the sunflowers to the side so I can see him.

  “Well, why shouldn’t she? Everyone else has had it,” I say, then immediately regret it.

  He bites the inside of his cheek to stop from laughing. I’m sure it’s at me, not with me.

  “Laugh it up.” I start to turn when he reaches out and catches my chin in his hand and swipes it under my eyes.

  “I make you cry?”

  I pull back from his touch. “Would it make your ego any bigger if I said—”

  He lets out an exaggerated sigh, interrupting me. “Can’t stand to see a woman cry, so no, it won’t make my fucking ego any whatever the hell you think it’s doing.”

  He reaches up with his other hand, and I see a pair of shears. He uses them to snip a sunflower.

  “I don’t need your help,” I tell him as I turn around.

  I reach to snap a stem, but he pulls my hand back.

  “You do that, you’ll be happy I was here to save that ass of yours from Mags’ wrath.” He lets go of my hand and gives me the scissors. Then he picks up a galvanized bucket and sets it down by my feet. “They can go in here.”

  I go about cutting some flowers, trying to space out the ones I snip as to not leave any bare spots. Out of the corner of my eyes, I see him starting to snap some flowers.

  “You need these?” I ask, holding out the scissors. “Mags and the ass having?”

  He smirks and lifts up a knife. “Thanks for being concerned about my ass.”

  “You were concerned with mine first,” I remind him.

  When I turn around again, facing the flowers, I hear that sound again, that growl, and so do my nipples.

  Damn him.

  Chapter Eleven

  Harder

  Grayson

  The situation, being around her, is becoming harder and harder and harder by the second. I have to force myself not to stare at her nice, round ass when she’s bent over. Already I can’t see her cry without wanting to fuck her or feed her chocolate. And for some fucking reason, I can’t stay away.

  Redirect, I tell myself. So, I do.

  “What were the tears for?”

  She looks back at me briefly, then turns her back and holds up the flower she just s
nipped. “Mom’s favorite.”

  “It makes you sad?”

  She shakes her head, and I swear I can smell the scent of her shampoo wafting through the air. It fucks with me.

  “She sends signs.” She shrugs then continues snipping and moving down the row.

  I cut off a few more sunflowers to bring to Mags. They are her favorite. “Signs?”

  She looks back at me with questioning eyes.

  “Fuck, okay, none of my business.”

  “Why are you doing this?” she asks, shaking her head.

  “What? Helping with flowers? Mags,” I tell her.

  “No, talking to me, asking me questions. You don’t have to worry about me saying a word to Phoenix, okay? You’re off the hook.”

  “Blue?”

  “God, Grayson.” She groans in frustration.

  “Told you I don’t know how to do this friends shit,” I snap.

  She looks at me and shakes her head. Then she looks away again and clips another flower.

  “So, we can’t be—”

  “No,” she immediately interrupts.

  “Oh, wow. So, you really just want to fuck me?”

  She spins around and points the scissors at me. “Today is a day to celebrate love. Today is a big day, huge, and they need these flowers. So instead of”—she points the scissors at my dick—“all that, just let it be about flowers and love.”

  “Your mom’s favorite flowers?” I ask, and she points the scissors at me again. I hold my hand over my semi-chub. “Can you point them somewhere else?”

  “Can you just stop, then?”

  I nod. “But you and I need to be friendly, Mandee. Gonna be a long day if we are fighting.”

  “I don’t want to fight with you, Grayson,” she says as the scissors snip louder.

  “You just want to fuck me?”

  To that, she laughs and turns around, still laughing as she hands me a flower. “There. I’m so sorry if my wanting to have sex offended you, sweet lips—”

  “Hot lips,” I correct.

  “Fine. Now there’s a flower. Do you feel better now?”

  I try to hold back my smile, but I can’t. “I feel a little better.”

  I hold the flower up to my nose and smell it, and she laughs. God, I love that smile, that laugh.