Getting Lucky

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Getting Lucky Page 22

by Carolyn Brown


  "Annie is Julie Donavan's daughter and don't you forget it."

  He reached out and moved toward her at the same time. One hand touched her face, the other cupped her chin. He moved in for the kiss and she tilted her chin slightly. He tasted iced tea with a bit of lemon and chocolate. Not a bad combination.

  His tongue traced the outline of her lips and glued her to the floor. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in.

  She tasted tea and that bite of yeast bread he had popped into his mouth while he was talking to his family. Not a bad combination.

  Julie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, tasting more, deepening the kiss until steam shot out of her ears, the passion was so intense. Was there a lock on the door and would those witches in the kitchen miss them if they stayed gone half an hour?

  Griffin sucked on her lower lip and got the full benefit of the kiss. He wished there was a lock on the door and no children or relatives in the house. Living without her after kissing her would be pure hell, he decided just before they broke away.

  "What was that all about?" she asked the moment his lips left hers.

  "It was about a damn fine kiss," he said and stood up. "I'll see you in the kitchen."

  When he was out of the library, she touched her lips. They were still on fire and she wanted another one. Griffin was right. It was one damn fine kiss. The best damn kiss she'd had in all of her thirty-four years, and she would have liked for it to have been more than a damn fine kiss.

  Chapter 13

  "YOU GET THAT STRAIGHTENED OUT?" MELINDA ASKED Griffin when he waltzed into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

  "I did."

  She patted the chair beside hers. "Good. Now let's you and me and Momma sit down to the table and plan this year's party. We've already called in a band to play the dance and we use the same caterer every year. Barbecued everything that don't move, along with beans, cole slaw, corn bread, and every kind of cheese cake under the sun."

  "Julie, you take that chair, I'll pull up another one," Griffin said as she sauntered in.

  Melinda shot him a mean look.

  "I'll go play with the children a while," Julie said, then wished she could take the words back because Griffin's bitchy sister would count that as a feather in her hat for sure.

  "I'm askin' you to come join us and put your two cents into the pot," Griffin said.

  She walked over and sat down. She touched her lips again and hoped they didn't look as bee-stung as they felt. How in the hell could one kiss turn her insides to a quivering bowl of Jell-O? Derrick's kisses had been nice, even passionate at times, and she'd enjoyed them. Graham's had been hot and fiery and sent her hormones on a roller coaster ride. But when Griffin's mouth touched hers, it was as if her soul had come home. Later, when she was alone, she'd think more about it, but right then she wished that bitchy sister and mother would disappear and she could cart that sexy cowboy to a bedroom and do more than just kiss him until she couldn't catch her breath.

  That idea brought her up short. She didn't live in the nineteenth century where a woman didn't kiss a man until she was married to him and damn sure didn't have sex with him until after the vows were said. She lived in the modern day world… but by damn, she refused to fall for Griffin Luckadeau. There would be too many obstacles in the course from start to finish—beginning with his sister, who was shooting daggers at her—and she didn't have the energy to conquer them.

  "Griffin, I understand that you are angry because we didn't open up our arms and be all sugar and sweet to Julie," Melinda said. "But remember we've lived through Dian. Not to mention that schoolteacher that almost led Beau to the altar and bankruptcy at the same time. Or how about that witch Slade dated back before Jane came along? We are willing to get past our prejudice, but this is a family thing. It's our sale, not Julie's."

  "No, sis, it's my sale. If I want Julie's help, then I'll have it. And one other thing, she will be attending the party as the mother of Graham's daughter and if you don't like it, maybe you'd better not unpack your suit cases," Griffin said.

  A grin tickled the corners of Laura's mouth. Her quiet son had finally stood up to his overbearing sister. "Julie, what do you think about a Christmas theme this year? We usually stay away from Christmas because everyone is already about half sick of it, but I was thinking about those little steer figurines with Santa hats for centerpieces."

  "Momma, that's so hickish," Melinda said.

  "I love it," Julie said.

  "I like it, Mother. Call Mamie and ask her where to buy those things," Griffin said.

  Melinda set her jaw and tapped her foot on the tile floor. "It'll look like redneck heaven."

  "Or white trash," Griffin said with a sideways look at Julie.

  They both got tickled. It started as a giggle from Julie and erupted into full-fledged laughter from Griffin.

  Laura and Melinda stared from one to the other, ques tions on their faces.

  "Inside joke," Griffin finally said when he got it under control. "Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you, Marita said to tell you both hello and she'll miss seeing you this year. She called every day until Carl got out of the hospital. Now she calls every other day. I think she's trying to wean herself away from Lizzy. It can't be easy for either of them. Annie and Chuck help on this end and I'm sure Clarissa's kids and grandchildren help on that end, but it's still tough."

  "I was so sorry to hear about that. Now shall we serve barbecue—ribs, chicken, quail, beef, and pork?" Laura asked.

  "Sure. We using the same caterers?" Griffin asked.

  "Yes, that same one out of Fort Worth. They'll arrive in the middle of the afternoon and put cloths on all the tables and make the old barn look as formal as a hotel lobby," Melinda said.

  "Then what's left for us to plan?" Julie asked.

  "Decorations. What we'll be wearing. It's formal. Men in western tuxes, ladies in gowns. So there's some shopping to do. We'll make several trips to Wichita Falls," Melinda said.

  "Formal? In a barn?" Julie asked.

  "Of course. If you don't have anything to wear you don't really have to attend it, does she, Griffin?" Melinda asked.

  "I assure you, Julie will look just fine. She could come in a burlap bag with a rope as a belt and still look fine. I'm in charge here, Melinda. Get over yourself," he said.

  "Why are you fighting with me?" Melinda asked. "You never have before."

  "It didn't matter before. It does now. I mean it. I manage to run this place all year without you. I could put on a party without you, too."

  "I'm not sure I like you like this. It's as if Graham came back alive and crawled in your body," she said.

  Griffin shrugged.

  "Don't you value what you've worked your whole life for?" Melinda asked.

  "One hyphenated word. Pre-nup," he said.

  "That means the land and the farm equipment. What about the capital to run the place, to buy feed, to buy cattle? That part could sift through your fingers and into her pocket real quick," she challenged.

  "Two words. Ain't interested," Julie said.

  "I don't believe you and I don't believe you are ranch material, either," Melinda said.

  "What makes you an expert?" Julie asked.

  "I happen to own and operate a ranch. Momma is an only child so when her father died six years ago, she and Daddy went over around Bellville, Texas, where she was raised and took over the management of the Circle R Ranch. Her mother, Granny Raley, was also a ranching woman and before she died she inherited the Bar L near Conroe from her uncle who didn't have children. I'd have to draw you a genealogy chart to make you under stand. Anyway, Grandma hired a manager and when she died, she left the Bar L to me. I married the manager the next year. We've got two sons, Houston and Austin. They're ten and twelve and off on a camping trip with their father right now. He does that with them while I come help Griffin with the sale party. They'll be here the day of the sale and we'll go home together after we have presents. So
I do know about ranching and I am a damn expert, which is something you will never be."

  "So you're older than Griffin?" Julie asked.

  "I am forty," Melinda said in a huff.

  Julie chuckled. If Melinda looked that damn good at forty, then she didn't mind Griffin thinking she was that old, after all.

  "What's so funny?" Melinda asked.

  "I'd have thought you were just a year older than Griff at the most. And honey, I'd have pictured you more in the modeling business than the ranching one with those long legs and your looks," Julie said.

  Melinda's whole face softened with the compli ment. "Momma had given up ever having another child and then—ka-boom—twin boys with her white streak when I was twelve. They were my toys. I loved them, but got to admit I was partial to Graham. He had this magnetism about him even as a child. By the time he was a teenager he could sweet-talk the panty hose off a nun."

  Julie blushed.

  "No offense meant there," Melinda said.

  "I'm not Catholic. I'm dyed-in-the-wool Methodist, and believe me, we were both drunk enough that neither of us had to do much sweet-talking—and I wasn't wearing panty hose."

  Griffin excused himself and went to the living room. Her kiss was still warm on his lips and he didn't want to hear about his brother and her in that hotel room.

  Melinda went on. "Anyway, it about killed me when he died. Don't get me wrong. I love Griffin. I'd fight a circle saw for him, probably quicker than I would have for Graham. Griffin was always a deeper, more complex person. Graham had this devil-may-care, to-hell-with tomorrow attitude that said let's go find some trouble and see if we can get into it. I guess you already know that, since you went to bed with him when you didn't even know the man."

  Julie jerked her head up and blinked twice.

  "Melinda, watch your tongue," Laura said.

  Julie stared Melinda down without blinking. "Yes, I did, and yes, he was magnetic. Be careful about throwing stones, though. Could be one will come through your glass house someday. You don't know me or who I am. Take me or leave me. I don't care. But if you're going to stay in this house the rest of the week, may I suggest you learn to curb your tongue? My temper can only take so much. So, truce?"

  "Or what will you do?" Melinda asked.

  "Honey, I will take you outside and mop up the yard with all that pretty blonde hair. I've stood as many slurs and degrading remarks as I intend to," Julie said.

  "Momma?"

  "She's right," Laura said. "You are my daughter but I've told you for years that the toughest lesson you'll ever learn is when to shut your mouth."

  "You're takin' the part of a one-night stand over your own daughter," Melinda fumed.

  "That's one. You get two more. You'd better pace them or you're going to find out what a one-night stand can do in a cat fight," Julie said.

  "I'm going up to bed. Good night." Melinda left the room as Griffin came back.

  Laura fluffed back her hair with her fingertips then picked up the notebook Melinda had left. There were a few gray strands at the temples that didn't involve that silver streak flowing back from her forehead. "She's always spoken her mind."

  "So have I," Julie said.

  "I can see where Graham would have liked you," Laura laughed.

  Griffin picked up his coat and went right out the back door. For the first time in his life he wished he'd been born one child instead of a twin.

  That evening Julie read the kids a book and then went to her room. She could hear Griffin talking to his mother and sister in the hallway. Their voices floated through the door but she couldn't make out a single word, only the tone. Once or twice Melinda swore and then she laughed. Julie wondered briefly what could be funny, but not for long.

  She picked up the new Sue Grafton book she'd bought at the bookstore when she was at the Gainesville mall. Before the fire she'd owned the whole set, from A Is for Alibi right up to S Is for Silence. T Is for Trespass had been out for months but she hadn't had time to read anything lately.

  Footsteps came up the stairs. Two sets went to rooms across the hall. One set stopped at her door for a moment then continued on to Griffin's room. She wondered if he was aching for a fight about that kiss. Well if he was, then he should have it, right?

  She peeked out into the hallway. She could hear Melinda and Laura moving around behind closed doors. She tiptoed to Griffin's door and raised a hand to knock, then thought better of it. One little noise and at least two doors would open in the hallway, with the possibility of a third, if Annie heard it. Explaining to Annie would be easy compared to Laura and Melinda if they caught her going into Griffin's room. Melinda's temper would ignite into flames and she'd do a dance right there in the hallway singing about being right about the red-haired, white trash gold digger.

  She turned the knob and eased into the dark room. Griffin was stretched out on the bed, his hands laced behind his head. He figured Lizzy was sneaking into his room to ask for a midnight snack. When he looked across the room and saw Julie lit up from the moonlight flowing through the window, he sat up so fast it made him dizzy.

  "Which kid needs me?" he whispered.

  "Nothing is the matter with the kids. Something is the matter with us," she said.

  "Please tell me that kiss didn't spook you into leaving Saint Jo for the holidays…"

  "I'm not leaving. Wild horses couldn't drive me away and let your sister win this silly war she's declared on me," she said.

  He threw himself backwards with enough force to make the bed bounce. She pulled up a rocking chair to the side of his bed and slid into it, drawing her knees up, propping her forearms on them and her chin on her arms.

  "Okay, then what is the problem that you'd invade my bedroom without even knocking?"

  She was suddenly tongue-tied. What had seemed like a perfectly good idea five minutes before was suddenly sophomoric and silly. She wasn't a teenager and Griffin wasn't the first man she'd kissed.

  "It was the kiss, wasn't it?" he asked.

  She nodded.

  "Well, rest assured it was just something that happened. Kind of like a knee-jerk reaction to a situa tion. It won't happen again."

  "Why?" she asked.

  "What do you mean?"

  "Why won't it happen again? Am I ugly? Do I repel you?"

  He sat up again. "You most certainly do not!"

  He was careful to keep the sheet over his lower body. Just looking at her in that silly nightshirt with Betty Boop on the front had flushed him with desire that wasn't easy to cover up, even with a sheet.

  "Then why?"

  "Because you…" he stammered.

  "Because I was with your brother, Graham?"

  "That and the fact that you and I could never have a relationship, Julie. Number one, you are not my type. Number two… I can't think of what number two is but give me a day or two and I'll have a whole list."

  She was on her feet in flash and put one hand on each of Griffin's cheeks. She leaned forward and kissed him soundly and passionately. When she broke away she ran her tongue over her lips to get the final taste.

  "Number one," she said, "you aren't my type either. Number two, I'd rather be your friend. Number three, you kiss damn good and your brother and I were both so plastered that night I can't even remember what his kisses were like. Good night, Griffin. Rest assured, it won't happen again. I just wanted to make sure the first kiss I'd had since my divorce really was as good as I thought it was."

  "And was it?" he asked hoarsely.

  "I don't kiss and tell." She slipped out the door.

  Griffin's pillow took several beatings before he pounded it into submission enough that he could go to sleep.

  "Good morning, son. Sit down and have some of Elsie's wonderful pancakes," Laura said, all chipper the next morning.

  "Griffin has sausage, eggs, biscuits, and gravy," Elsie said. "It's on the stove except for the eggs. Easy over or scrambled?"

  "Easy over this morning," he said.
>
  Laura looked up from the notebook she'd been writing in all morning while she ate. "You are spoiled."

  "Why would you say that?" Elsie asked.

  "Because Marita never made breakfast. We were all on our own for that meal. Cereal. Toast. Frozen waffles. It was grab and run in the morning. You are spoiling him," Laura said.

  Elsie smiled. "I usually come to work at the same time Paul does. The children and Miz Julie are already gone to school. But during the holidays Griffin asked me to come in early while you all are here to give you a hand with whatever you need. The sale party will take a lot of work. It's only for a few days that he gets breakfast that I cook. I understand Miz Julie does a fine job of making a good hot breakfast when I'm not here."

 

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