by Kar, Alla
I sniffle into her ear and pull back to look at her. A few more wrinkles have covered her face, but she looks just as beautiful as she always has. “I’ve missed you, too.”
She pulls back and looks me up and down. “Your boobs has gotten bigger.” She leans in close to my ear. “Finally.”
Way to go, Grandma.
Her eyes avert over my shoulder before I can say anything. I can’t tell anything from her expression, but I’d guess she’s staring at Taylor. I turn and gesture toward my group of friends. “This is Taylor, Cindy, Brett and you know Damon.”
She smiles. “Taylor?” she asks, an eyebrow raised. I see her looking him up and down. Taylor looks pale as a ghost. He swallows heavily.
Taylor steps forward and offers her his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. I’m Layla’s fiancé, Taylor.”
She hums underneath her breath and nods. “Look at those muscles.” She grabs his biceps and squeezes. “And this face.” She pinches his cheeks. Oh, God. Please stop. “No wonder you’re smitten, Layla.” She brings him in for a hug and I see Taylor’s shoulders relax a bit. “Such a handsome man,” she says.
She pats his cheek softly and turns to Cindy and Brett. “Roommate and roommate’s boyfriend, right?”
Cindy straightens her shoulders and puts on the fakest voice I’ve ever heard come out of her mouth. “Yes, ma’am. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” I roll my eyes.
Cindy grins at me over my grandma’s shoulder. Then she hugs Brett and pats his head. “You’re a looker too. You girls must be giving these guys something good to keep ‘em.”
Cindy snorts and I give her a don’t even say anything look.
My grandma isn’t supposed to know anything about that! I always imagined her having my mother through Immaculate Conception.
Then I see her wobble to Damon. Cinnamon is at her feet begging for attention and she pushes her away from her foot. “Damon, baby. How are you?” She takes his face in her hands and squeezes.
He puts his hands over Grandma’s and smiles down at her. “It’s so good to see you, Grandma. It’s been so long.” Grandma? What the hell? Don’t get me wrong, Damon knows my grandmother but not enough to say that, right? What. The. Hell.
“Oh, we’ve missed you around here. We haven’t seen you since last year when … ”
Huh? I didn’t think Damon had been over here since right after my parents died. “What?” I ask. “You came by here last year?”
Grandma turns and puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not nice to interrupt, Layla.” She frowns and turns back to Damon. “I’ve missed you. We’ve missed you. Dan is asleep but we’ll see him first thing in the morning. Let’s get inside out of this cold and into your beds for the week. Layla, I made up the guest house for all of you. I want y’all to feel at home.”
“Okay, great.” My eyes turn toward Damon but he won’t look at me. I want to know why he came by last year and why he never told me. Does Grandma know more than I think she does?
The guest house has two stories and has three bedrooms, a small kitchen and living room. It’s the same faded color as the house but with more privacy for us. I’m surprised she’s actually letting us stay here. I was never allowed alone with a guy until I was sixteen. Now she’s shoving me into our own house for the week.
She slips on her slippers and we all follow her toward the house. “How was y’all’s trip?” she asks.
Damon’s eyes avert to Taylor. Taylor narrows his eyes and locks his jaw. “Long,” Taylor says. “About sixteen hours all together.”
Grandma lets out a whistle. “That’s a long trip.” She fumbles with the keys. “I’m glad y’all made it here safely. I was starting to worry.” She jiggles the keys and finally the door swings wide open. “The satellite is in here now, so y’all won’t be bored to death. I also stocked the fridge in case you get hungry. Dan is getting up around six to get ready for the day. You’ll want to try and catch your grandpa in the morning. Layla, you know where all the rooms are. Show everyone. I’ve got to get in this bed, or I won’t be worth nothing in the morning. I’ll see you all at breakfast.”
We all say bye and then she shuts the door behind her. I let Mittens go and she starts to sniff around. Cindy jumps up and starts fist pumping the air. “This house is badass, Layla. I can’t believe we get our own house. I was expecting her to make the girls sleep in one room and the boys in the other.”
“Me too. I wish she was this laid back when I lived here.”
I show everyone the three rooms and we all take the ones we want. Taylor and I take the one upstairs. It’s small but has a bed, TV, dresser and closet. The bathroom is right across the hallway from us, too.
Taylor sits our suitcases on the bed and turns his back to me. He hasn’t said anything in ten minutes. “You’re mad about something. What is it?”
Taylor fists his shirt and rips it over his head. I watch the muscles in his back move as he grabs another shirt. “No, I’m not.”
I slip out of my shoes and nod. “Yeah, you are. I see it.”
“Layla! It’s an 80s scary movie marathon down here. We’re watching the old version of Carrie,” Cindy yells from the bottom floor. “You guys get down here and watch it with us.”
“Be there in a second.”
Taylor keeps his eyes glued to the floor as I walk closer to him. “What’s wrong?”
Taylor sighs and cups his hands around my neck. “I hate that he is so close to your family. I know it’s fucking petty, but … I hate it so much. I want to be close to your grandma. You’re marrying me, not Damon.”
“Taylor … he’s always going to be close to them. He grew up around them. Mostly. He was always over here with my dad when we were little. It doesn’t mean you can’t get close to them, too.”
He nods. “I know.” Sighing, he reaches over and grabs a pair of shorts out of our bag. “I’m going to take a quick shower. I’ll be down to watch the movie in just a bit.”
He walks out of the room and closes the bathroom door behind him with a thud.
I stare at the door for a minute. I completely see where he is coming from. I truly do. But, I can’t take Damon out of my past, just like I couldn’t prevent my parents’ deaths. I start down the stairs toward the living room when I pass Damon shrugging on a shirt in his room. I stop at the door and stare at him.
“You know, it’s not nice to stare, especially when someone is trying to change clothes, Layla.”
“I want to know why you came to my grandparents’ house last year.”
He pushes his dark hair from his eyes and they lift to meet mine. “Layla, I always come and visit your grandparents ... ”
“No, it’s been years and you fucking know it. I want to know right now. Why were you here? Did they know someone was after me?”
Damon presses his lips into a tight line.
I scoff. “You’re not going to tell me?”
He gives me a one shoulder shrug.
“You guys coming?” Brett yells.
“Just a minute,” I yell, then turn back to Damon. “Tell me why you were here, Damon. Now. Do they know what happened to me? Have you been reporting back to them like a fucking traitor?”
His lips pull up to a sarcastic smile. “You have no idea what you’re talking about, Layla. Just drop it. I’m going to watch a movie and you should too. Try to relax.” He steps closer and slides beside me to stand in front of me in the doorframe.
His breath is hitting my face and it smells like mint. “Tell me.”
He leans down an inch, his mouth close to mine. “No. I won’t. You can ask your grandparents.” He points his finger at my chest.
I grind my back molars together. “No. I’m not going to. You’re going to tell me.” I poke him back.
His breath comes faster and I realize being this close to me is tormenting him. I take a step back into the hallway. Pictures of me growing up line the walls. I even see a picture of Damon and me as kids. “You remember playing with me as k
ids, Layla?” Damon asks.
I nod. “Yeah, what about it?”
A small smile forms on his jaw. Turning toward the pictures he trails his hand against them. “Remember playing in here when we were kids?”
I shake my head. “A little. Stop trying to change the subject, Damon. I –,”
“Remember when we would hide in the closet and kiss?”
What? Hell no, I don’t. “What are you talking about? We did not –,”
He turns to me and his gaze makes my stomach flutter. “Yes, we did. You told me I could kiss you. And I did. It was only a second, seeing that we were only six, but we did.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He shrugs. “You’ll figure it out soon, I’m sure.” He winks and walks down the hallway. What in the hell? I knew we played together as kids but I didn’t remember kissing him. Why would he lie? Better yet, why would he even bring it up? What will I figure out? Ugh! I want to slap the shit out of him. I’m standing there with my mouth gaping open when Taylor wraps an arm around my waist.
“What are you doing out here?”
“Nothing,” I lie. “Let’s go watch the movie.”
Chapter Four
Taylor
Sunlight is peeking through the blinds and shining right into my eyes. I groan and reach over to feel for Layla. Her side of the bed is empty and cold. Sitting up, I rub my fists over my eyes until I can see. A small body impression is still dented in but it’s cold as I slide my fingers over the sheet.
No sign of her. I stagger up, pull on some jeans, a T-shirt and a hoodie. Cindy and Brett are curled up in their bed asleep but Damon’s bed is empty. Of course it is.
I know Layla wouldn’t cheat on me. I know it. But, a hollow feeling starts to form in my stomach, sending a raging heat all over me. Walking down the hall, I see a couple of pictures of Damon with Layla. They’re only around five or six but it boils my blood. It just gives him an incentive to go after her.
I slip on a pair of boots I brought, that I’ve only worn once, and open the door. The basset hound from last night is curled up on the porch staring at me through droopy eyes. She rolls over onto her back and begs for me to rub her stomach.
“Hey, girl,” I coo, scratching her belly. A billow of smoke is rising from the main house and I figure it’s a fireplace. Someone is up. The dog keeps on my heels as I walk to the door. I knock, not knowing what else to do. Would it be rude to just walk in? A few minutes later Layla’s grandma opens the door. I have no idea what to call her. “Hi Mrs. … ” I trail off.
She smiles. “Call me Sarah, hon. Come on in. Sweetie,” she says when I walk past the door, “you don’t have to knock, just come on in.”
I nod. That answers that question.
“Layla and Damon are this way, having breakfast.”
Oh, hell. I swallow my pride and follow her toward the dining room. It’s large with worn furniture but really homey. A small fireplace is burning underneath a mantel in the far corner that has pictures of Layla and who I assume are her parents. She looks just like her mother. Down to the long legs, and beautiful smile. They’re both gorgeous.
I follow Sarah to the dining room. Layla and Damon are both eating pancakes. Neither one are speaking or looking at each other. It’s … odd. A tension is riding between them. I’m not sure I want to know.
Layla glances up at me and waves me over. “Good morning.”
I take a seat next to her. “Why didn’t you wake me up?”
She shoves a mouthful of pancake into her mouth. “You drove sixteen hours over the last two days. I was letting you sleep.”
Grabbing a plate, I scoop up three pancakes. “What time is it?”
“Six thirty,” Layla says over her glass of orange juice. “My grandpa is out in the field. When we finish we were going to go out and see him. Want to come?”
By ‘we’ I’m assuming she means Damon. He’s staring at me over his glass when I look up. Bastard. “I’d love to,” I say.
Layla is wearing some old work boots over her skinny jeans and I have to admit it’s fucking hot as hell. I would love to see her here in the summer, blue jeans shorts and boots. My dick is getting hard thinking about it. The backyard is definitely a farm. There is a barn, sheds and acres and acres of fields. Horses, cows and chickens are everywhere. It would be peaceful if the winter wind wasn’t whipping at my face.
Damon is in front of us, leading the way. It pisses me off that he knows his way around so easily. When we get to the barn, an old man is pouring feed into a trough in front of some horses. He has an old John Deere hat on top of his gray head of hair. Overalls and boots. He looks like Old McDonald.
When he turns he glances at Layla and a huge smile tugs on his worn face. “Baby girl,” he says, wrapping her in a giant bear hug. “I’ve missed you, Layla girl.” He looks up. “Damon,” he nods. Then his eyes land on me. I see Layla gets her blue eyes from him. Scruffy gray hair covers his cheeks. Wrinkles line his forehead, I’m sure from the southern weather. “You must be Taylor?” he asks.
“Yes, sir,” I say, offering him my hand. He takes it and wraps a protective arm around Layla’s shoulders. “It’s nice to meet you, sir.”
His eyes are narrowed. He’s looking me over. I expected this but it’s terrifying. Not that I think he could whoop my ass but I want his blessing to marry Layla. I don’t want her family to hate me. “Yes, a pleasure,” he says. I hear the hesitation in his voice. I know he won’t be easily persuaded. I’ll just have to show him.
He turns to Damon. “Why don’t you get the feed ready? It’s about time to feed those damn chickens.” He kisses Layla on top of the head and walks out of the barn without another word.
Layla glances over at me. “I’m sorry,” she says. “He’s always been like that. Even when I dated in high school.”
“I expected it. It’s okay, promise.” Layla wraps her hand around mine and tugs me closer to her.
“I’m thinking the barn will be a great place to get away from everybody. What do you think?”
Shit. Please, don’t get me hard. Not in front of your grandpa. “I think that sounds like a pretty damn good idea,” I whisper.
Layla nods. “Hey, Layla. Your grandma needs some help in the kitchen.” Dan’s gaze flickers to mine. “I think Taylor and I can handle it out here.”
Fuck.
He hasn’t said more than two sentences to me the entire morning. Nothing more than pick that up, over there, put the feed here. God, and I’m sweating in the damn thirty degree weather. Damon and him have been laughing and chatting. I swear I’ve nearly ripped Damon’s head off three times. I think it would look great on top of this damn pitchfork I’m using to shovel hay into the stalls.
“So, Taylor. How did you meet Layla?”
Is he talking to me? Alert the fucking media. “Well, I met her at the pool hall. She likes to play pool.” Well, hustle people at pool.
He chuckles and wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “Layla always did like to play pool.” He glances over at me. “Damon, why don’t you go see if they have lunch ready for us?”
Damon glances over his shoulder at me. “Sure thing, Grandpa.”
Grandpa? Kiss ass much? Yep, I’m going to kill him. We shovel hay in the quiet for a few minutes before he stops and sits down on a hay barrel. “Taylor, I think we need to have a talk.”
I turn toward him and press my weight onto the pitchfork. I’m sure I look nothing like what someone you’d expect to be shoveling hay. “Yes, sir.”
Taking his hat off, he runs his hand over his gray, short hair. “Layla is special. She’s been hurt time and time again. Her father was a selfish man. He didn’t think about anyone but himself. Until he met my daughter. I hated the bastard.” He scoffs. “I hated him so fuckin’ much. Once he put his old life behind him, it was too late. Layla was older and that was when they died. Because of him. Because he couldn’t put his old lifestyle behind him for so long. My daughter died because h
e couldn’t stop hustling people. Layla … she has enemies she doesn’t know about. Her father pissed so many people off. I’m well aware of what’s been happening to Layla. I know you saved her life and I’ll be eternally grateful for it. But, I’m also aware of what you do. You fight, right?”
How in the fuck does he know all of this? I’m pretty sure Layla hasn’t said a damn word. And I’m one hundred percent positive this guy doesn’t know how to use the internet. That only leaves Damon. He’s been reporting back to them. Little fucking traitor. “Yes, sir. I do.”
He twists the rim of his hat in his hands. “Do you think that’s a good job to have while you’re trying to marry my granddaughter?” It’s definitely a rhetorical question. “It won’t work. You can’t continue to fight and be with Layla. She needs stability. Someone that can give her a normal life.” He stands up with a grunt. “Can you do that, son? Because I’m not sure you can. I’m not sure you’re any better than her daddy.” His eyes flicker toward the back of the house and at Damon.
I know what he’s thinking. Damon can give her those things. I know he wants Damon to end up with Layla. Over my fucking dead body. I don’t care if this is her grandpa. I won’t let Damon have her ever. “Sir, if I’m being honest, I don’t give a rat’s ass what anyone thinks. I love, Layla. No, I fucking love her. And I won’t have someone that hasn’t said more than ten words to me give his opinion on how he thinks I’m a deadbeat.”
He stares at me for a really long time. But, I don’t apologize. I don’t back down. “Son, you need to learn how to control that mouth of yours.” He points a piece of straw at my head. “And I know a lot more about you than you think.”
“Yeah?” I ask. “Who told you? Damon?” I smile over at him. “I don’t care about Damon, and you shouldn’t either. Because he has no chance with Layla. Because no one can love her like I do. No one. So, I’m sorry to disappoint but I am who I am.”
Stepping forward, he stares at me. “Son, do you know what it feels like to lose your daughter? To almost lose your granddaughter? My only daughter was taken away from me at twenty-eight. You know why? Because her husband couldn’t stop making enemies. He kept living his old lifestyle and got my daughter killed. I won’t let that happen to Layla. She deserves so much more than to follow in her mother’s footsteps.”