by Natasha Deen
“Sometimes—” she said.
I stiffened at the same tone she’d once used to confess wrecking my red sports car after a wild night of playing bingo.
“—in an effort to see your babies are taken care of, you can go too far.” She took Mr. Garret’s hand and flashed him a sweet smile.
The bat slid from my grip and hit the floor with a dull thunk. Oh, I did not like where this was going. I stumbled backwards. My feet pedaled away from her, towards Harry, and he was coming towards me, too.
“What did you do?” Harry asked and put his hand around my shoulder.
The teams had shifted, but I appreciated the support. I knew what she was going to say would make me question her sanity—and mine, for not keeping her restrained in a padded room.
“It’s like this,” said Mr. Garret. “We met the night you two moved in—”
“Speed it up, old man,” said Harry, rolling his hand in the air.
“There’s been no feud.” His words came out in a rush. “We were just trying to get you kids together.”
“What!” We both yelled the word at the same time.
His gaze focused on his grandson. “I figured Harry would come to the rescue if I was having lawn troubles with my neighbor”—his gaze swung sideways—“and your grandmother knew you would step in to mend broken fences.”
“It was a really good plan,” said Nana, jutting out her chest and pushing her shoulders back.
Her sparkling eyes met my gaze. Once again, I considered putting her in a long-term care facility.
“The scheme was long term and subtle—”
“And crazy!” I said, leaning forward. “I came here ready to bash heads!”
“Oh, I know.” Her hand fluttered in the air, dismissive, as though my words were too trivial to address.
I snapped my teeth together to prevent the hard words from spilling out.
“Family is everything. You’re a Baxter, through and through.”
“Baxter, schmaxter,” I muttered, thinking if she were right, I’d be better off opting for cats over kids. “I’ll need counseling for this one.”
Nana turned to Harry. “I never used that awful fertilizer. I found the empty bag in the garage after we moved in—I was tossing bird seed.” She reached out to Harry, palms up. “I’d never do anything to harm animals. You must believe me.”
My stomach churned as I glanced at him.
His jaw went slack; his fingers pulsed into my shoulder.
He had the stunned expression of a man who’d planted turnips only to reap cabbages. Silence goose-stepped around us.
Finally, Harry turned and said, “Isn’t there an animal reference for this?”
Implications of what had just happened swirled through my head, and I blinked. “What?”
“Like these two are crazier than a Tasmanian devil on meth.”
“Hush now,” said Nana. Her nose twitched, and her top lip curled up. “Where’s a little-bitty thing like a Tasmanian devil going to find a dealer or a lab?” She turned to Mr. Garret and rolled her eyes. “Honestly.”
Trademark Nana. She’d almost caused a feud worthy of the Hatfields and the McCoys, and she was offended not by being compared to a drugged-up devil, but because Harry had used an improper reference point. I ran my hands over my face. “We need some time to think about this.”
Nana’s face crumpled. “I didn’t mean to cause any trouble—” Her voice trembled.
“But you caused harm, and there’s got to be consequences.” I shook my head, unsure of how to proceed.
“She’s right.” He dropped his hand and gestured toward the door. “You two best go wait in the living room. We’ll be down in a bit.”
In a blink, they seemed to age. Nana’s face showed every wrinkle and Harrison’s back bowed forward. My grandmother clasped his hand and slowly, they turned. They shuffled toward the door. At the threshold, Nana turned and met my gaze with a hopeful smile.
I shook my head.
Her smile faded and she retreated down the hall.
I turned to Harry, part of me wanting to scream, the other part wanting to laugh. “I’m so sorry—”
“If he still had his driver’s license,” said Harry, staring at the door. “I’d take it away for three months.”
I laughed, letting the relief of avoiding a full-on feud, the optimism of having Harry in my sights bubble up and out. Once I started, Harry joined in. The mattress absorbed my weight as I sat on the edge.
Harry joined me, shaking his head.
“A set up—”
“Have they never heard of blind dates—?”
“Can you imagine—?”
“I can’t believe she was getting ready to give you a tutorial on the proper way to introduce wildlife references.”
We started laughing, again. I flopped backward onto the mattress. The duvet covers molded to the shape of my body. I grinned and looked up at Harry.
He smiled down at me. Then he reclined, lying on his side and propped his head in his hand. “Are all the Baxter women like this?”
“Of course not,” I said, fighting to suppress a grin. “I would never prance across a lawn.”
He chuckled then laughed.
Again, I was reminded how much that sound pleased me, how much I enjoyed the way he closed his eyes, how his mouth turned up, and how the action made his shoulders shake.
A few moments passed before my irritation with my grandmother gave way to reality. I was laying on a luxurious bed—on high thread count sheets and everything—with a gorgeous, almost naked man. That sobered me up, but good.
Harry stopped laughing, too. His eyelids relaxed, and he stared at me from half-closed lids. A small, promising smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
I remembered with gut-kicking clarity how attractive I’d found his blue eyes. “That was quite the performance with the bat.”
“I had to protect her.”
His chin dipped. “Got my attention.”
“So did you.” I breathed the words, too drunk on the nearness of him to actually speak.
“They must have figured we’d make a good team,” he said.
“I guess.”
He was so close, we were almost nose to nose. Mouth to mouth. I hadn’t a clue how we’d ended up in such near proximity and discretion told me to move away. I stayed put, hoping he’d move closer.
“Good thing we found out.” His gaze traveled along the lines of my body.
The moisture in my mouth evaporated and my heart started doing the Texas two-step.
“Good thing.”
An eyebrow lifted. “Could have been a disaster.”
I was too transfixed with the way his mouth moved to do anything but repeat. “Disaster.”
His gaze hovered—for a split second—on my lips. Then he looked at my eyes. “Glad we nipped it in the bud.”
“Real glad.” Wait…what? I blinked. “Glad? Nipped?”
“Sure.” He nodded. “A relationship would never have worked between us.”
My heart crumpled. “Yeah, never.” I rolled to the side and sat up.
“I mean, you’re a hot head.”
My brows drew together and I shot a glance over my shoulder. His arm rested behind his head and across the pillow. The posture highlighted the breadth of his chest and the hard bump of his bicep. I swallowed, trying to get moisture into my suddenly dry throat, and reminded myself to focus on the topic. “So are you.”
“And stubborn.”
“No more than you.” I stood. Why should I listen to this?
“And rash.”
“You too!” My jaw tightened.
“And quick to anger.”
“What about you!” Tarnation. He was right. My blood was lava hot. But I’d had about all I could take of his Yankee talk. Body rigid, I rounded.
“And you like to fight.” He pulled me back to the mattress.
My shoulders bounced against the pillows. “You too!” I tried to wriggle a
way.
“But you sure are cute.”
“You too!” Oh, wait. My heart sped. I swiveled my head to the right. “What?”
He smiled and reached up his hand to play with a lock of my hair. “Gorgeous, in fact.”
“Oh.” I could get into this conversation. Rotating on my side, I slid toward him, close enough to catch the scent of bergamot and sandalwood of his cologne, far enough to maintain dignity. I gave him an encouraging smile, took a breath, and tried to calm my racing pulse.
“And I do love a feisty woman.”
“Oh.” Oh. Lord, he turned my body into warm pudding: warm, thick, and gooey.
His gaze locked with mine. “Especially one who knows all about restrained bulls in heifer paddocks, hornets, peacocks, and Tasmanian devils.” He shifted close. His toes brushed against mine and the heat of his body seeped into my skin.
“Well, it’s true. Bulls can get quite ornery.”
“Oh, I’m sure.” He shifted closer. Now, our legs touched each other. And our knees. And…oh Lord, what this man did to me.
He gave me a sexy grin—the kind that hitched the side of his mouth and showed his white teeth—and trailed a finger along my arm. My skin broke into delighted goose bumps.
“Got to be real careful with them.”
“Tell me about it.” My voice came out breathy, husky.
Then there was nowhere left for him to shift. Our mouths connected softly. His lips were warm, firm, and inviting.
I moaned and pressed closer, relishing the way his hard body connected with all my soft parts.
His fingers threaded through my hair and pulled me on top of himself. His tongue slid across my bottom lip then slipped inside my mouth.
He tasted of sunshine and warmth, oceans, and cool breezes. Just as I was really getting into the way Harry apologized, a knock sounded at the door, hesitant but persistent.
“I don’t hear anything,” said Nana.
“You don’t think they’ve killed each other, do you?” Mr. Garret’s worried voice penetrated the wood. “Harry! Harry! I taught you better. Don’t you hit that pretty, little girl!”
Nana’s precise rapping followed. “You too, Angelica Tiffany Montgomery Baxter. Use your words, not your fists.”
I groaned. Duty called, but I couldn’t resist a last nibble on his delicious lower lip. I rose. Cold air rushed between us and prickled my skin. “What are we going to do with them?”
“Ground them.” He pressed his mouth to the spot right behind my ear.
My eyes rolled back. Bright spots of ecstasy exploded behind my closed lids. I gasped for air as the honeyed sweetness of his touch turned my body limp and heavy.
“Take away their bridge club privileges for a month.” He gently nipped my neck.
Desire mushroomed inside me.
“Keep them in their rooms from six to six. Better yet—” His hands stole along my arms, and dropped to my hips. “We’ll stay in this room from six to six.”
I smiled and dropped my face in the muscular column of his neck. “I like that plan.”
The knock sounded louder.
A frustrated sigh puffed past my lips. “This will never work.”
Harry matched my sigh. “It’s true.”
“They’ll harass us for the rest of our lives.” I tunneled into him, curling my fingers in the thick waves of his dark hair, and tangling my legs in his.
“They’ll never leave us alone.” His fingers trailed a gentle path along the bones of my jaw.
I caught my breath at the sensuous tingles rising inside, shivering at the delicious tremors his touch created. “We’ll never have a moment’s peace.” And we needed to. I had to find out what other magic those fingers held.
“Can you imagine our first date?”
“Too horrific to think about.”
He ran a finger along my bottom lip. His pupils darkened when I moaned. Sighing, he broke the embrace and reluctantly pushed off the bed. “Only one thing to do.”
Chapter Five
One Year Later…
Birdseed rained down as I hiked up the skirt of my ivory dress and ran for the limo. The happy calls of well-wishers followed as Harry opened the door and I dived inside. Laughing, I fell into his body.
“As weddings went, I think this one was brilliant,” he said.
“Hmm,” I agreed, my joy ready to burst out. I grinned and hoped I wouldn’t implode with the happiness that bubbled inside. “Everything went off without a hitch. The minister was fabulous, the church was gorgeous—” My gaze covered his face. His eyes sparkled and the sun highlighted the sharp, sexy angle of his jaw. “And the groom was extremely handsome.”
“Not to mention the bride,” said Harry, taking my hand and kissing my temple. “A lovelier lady I have yet to see.”
“Hush,” said Nana from where she sat in the back of the limo. She removed her lace veil, eyed the simple gold band on her ring finger, and said to Mr. Garret, “They could charm the spots off a leopard.”
Harry took her hand and kissed it. “Maybe—but I mean every word.”
My grandmother blushed and smiled at her new husband.
The chauffer put the limo into drive and pulled away from the curb. The sharp lines of the wedding attendees softened into a colorful blur of whites, pink, blues, blacks, and greys.
“He’s right,” said Grandpa. “You are a vision.”
Harry reached into his blazer. Paper rustled against the ebony cotton as he pulled out a crisp, white envelope. “This is for you, from us.”
“We couldn’t decide on one gift,” I said, thinking about all the debate that went into picking their present. I’d wanted to buy them a house in Antarctica—someplace far away, where they couldn’t meddle. But Harry insisted no location was so far away they couldn’t poke their noses into our business. He’d also pointed out they’d see through any scheme to increase distance.
I clasped Nana’s hand. “There was so much we wanted to do with your gift and one thing just wasn’t enough, so we went with two.”
“We wanted to give it to you before we got to the hotel for the reception.” Harry’s lips lifted in a charming smile.
Nana opened the envelope, the entire time protesting, “But you’re our grandbabies, you shouldn’t buy us anything!”
“Believe me,” I said, “it’s a gift from the heart.”
“Oh, foo! I don’t have my spectacles. Harrison, what is it?”
He pulled out his bifocals and read. “It’s a trip to Europe. Two tickets, visiting every major city.” He riffled through the papers. “And a cruise for us to visit every port in the southern hemisphere.”
“You gave us wings to fly. It’s only fair we lay the world at your feet,” I said. My voice hitched and tears clogged my throat. The woman drove me bat-crazy, but oh, I loved her…and I was looking forward to loving her from a great, long distance.
“Oh.” Nana teared up. “But you’ll be all alone for two years.”
I tried not to squeal with glee. Instead, I gathered my Southern manners and said, “We’ll get by.”
“But the past year—” Grandpa looked at us, his silvery brows wrinkled. “It’s been rough on the both of you. If you weren’t working late hours—”
Stolen dinners...alone.
“Or attending conferences—”
Stolen weekends…alone.
“It was the gas or air conditioning needing to be fixed.”
Stolen hours…alone.
“If it wasn’t for us—” He reached out and took the hand of his new bride. “God only knows where you two would be.”
I knew where we would have been: enjoying the peace and quiet of not having two crazy seniors “watching” over us.
“How will you get on?” Nana leaned close, worry clouded her eyes and made her lips pucker.
Harry pulled me close. “I promise I’ll look after Angel.”
I snuggled into the strong embrace I’d come to know so well. His arm tightened aro
und me, strong and protective, and the scent of his cologne wrapped me in happy memories. “And I’ll look after him.”
“Well—” Nana looked at Grandpa. “All right. We’ll do it.”
I smiled, calm and easy, even though I wanted to spike my bouquet in a victory dance. “Lovely.”
Nana turned her attention to her husband.
With a sigh, I turned mine to my soon-to-be husband. “Now, Mr. Garret,” I whispered in his ear. “There’s the small matter of a quiet, candlelit dinner you owe me.”
He leaned close and pressed his lips to my cheek. “Can I negotiate a change in venue?”
“You definitely cannot!” I jerked away. My insides thrummed with indignation. “We’ve been planning—”
“Hush now, you haven’t heard my offer.”
My ears caught the teasing lilt in his voice. I pulled my lips to the side, feigning irritation. “Fine, go on. What’s your offer?”
“Trade in a candlelit dinner for breakfast in bed.”
“Whose? Yours or mine?”
“Both.”
I grinned and nuzzled his neck. “Sir, I believe that’s a right neighborly agreement.”
“So, you’ll take me up on it?”
I pressed my lips to his. “Up and down.”
A word about the author...
When I was little, there was only one thing I wanted to be when I grew up: a superhero. Sadly, this goal was made moot when I realized that being a klutz was not in fact, a super power, and my super-weakness for anything bright and shiny meant that a magpie with self-control could easily defeat me in a battle of wills. Hence, the turn to writing as an occupation. I don’t get to live on a secret space station orbiting the earth (and thank God, because I get motion sick on a merry-go-round), but I still get to wear leotards, a cape and say things like, “STAND ASIDE! THIS IS A JOB FOR WRITING-GIRL!”
Other Titles by the Author
What Happens in Vegas
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