by Thalia Eames
“Money has its privileges,” Garrett said. “I have connections. It wasn’t hard to have the prescription delivered.”
Money looked good on him too. Real good. But it didn’t matter. She wouldn’t get sucked into the Garrett trap for a second time. He’d fractured her trust and she had no intention on letting it mend.
“Let’s play Storytellers.”
Lennox jumped at Nox’s sudden exclamation. No matter how much she wanted to be annoyed he made her smile. Garrett smiled too. “We need pictures to play Storytellers,” he said.
“I’ve got a bunch on my tablet.” Nox got excited. “They’re from college. Hold on.” He ran out of the room and clobbered the stairs with heavy steps.
“He’s been to college?” Lennox asked as Garrett helped her sit all the way up.
He studied her position and plumped the pillows. “I think we’ve been set up. He has my snapshots from school.”
Gran hopped out of the armchair out of nowhere and held one finger high, as if she’d had an eureka moment. “I’ve got pictures in my room too,” she said, disappearing through the door.
“Oh.” Lennox nodded, and regretted the movement immediately. Her bones and nerve endings were trying to merge together. It hurt.
“You all right?”
She hated the concern in Garrett’s eyes. If someone wanted to build a better mousetrap, they only had to start with Garrett’s eyes. She’d been caught up in those depths and had her neck snapped before. “I’m okay. Maybe Nox just wants to know more about his mom.”
“I’d buy that if he didn’t know everything there is to know about Tina. He knows her favorite foods and music, her cultural traditions, everything.” Garrett resumed his lean against the headboard, and rested an elbow on his bent knee. When he turned to her amusement sparkled in his eyes. “He wants to know more about you.”
The smile in his eyes disappeared suddenly. His jaw hardened as he turned to look at her. “You’ve been good to him today. He likes you a lot. Having a godmother means more than you know and I appreciate it. But don’t abandon my son, Lennox. Don’t do that to him.”
Where the hell had that come from? Her, Lennox Averdeen, abandon someone? Never. She knew what it felt like to suffer a mother’s rejection. “You think I’d do that, Garrett?”
His hard stare swung from her to the door. “You’ve done it before.”
Nox bounded in before she could reply, a backpack bouncing behind him.
This man was too much. She doubted they could ever be civil to each for more than an hour. She fumed but put on a happy face for Nox. “How do we play?”
Her godson refused to explain until Gran came back, clutching her nearly bursting leather photo album tight to her chest.
“Okay, Gran, can you hear me?” Nox said, making a show of speaking loudly for the senior citizen sitting directly beside him on the bed. She shook her fist at him and shouted, “Eh?” directly into his ear.
Nox recovered quickly. He passed out index cards from his backpack. “Write down three words. Whatever you want.” On a second go round he handed out Sharpies in citrus colors. “Then we take turns picking cards. Match a card to a picture. An’ tell the story behind the picture.”
Breathless, Nox paused to make sure they all understood. They nodded or, in Garrett’s case, grunted.
“Since me and Gran are the only ones with pictures we get to pick the words. Y’all get to write ’em.”
Lennox regarded the two opposites on the age scale. One face she couldn’t imagine life without. A scary thought when most of her friends had already lost their grandmothers. The other, younger face had somehow made her life a little sweeter.
How did a kid come along and wreck everything while building it up? Fears Lennox hadn’t let run through her mind in years, broke free. She couldn’t help it. She had to wonder if she’d ruined her mother’s life more than made it better. After all, Angie Evans Averdeen left town as soon as the doctor cut the umbilical cord. No hellos. No goodbyes. And it still hurt because Lennox still wondered why.
Lennox paused and listened, but only one answer came to her. She let out a long breath. Most new mothers probably felt the way she did: scared, choked up, and excited. The exact opposite of Angie Evans Averdeen.
For Lennox, getting to know this child, who’d been named after her, who had become hers in a sense, seemed like an adventure she’d need Indiana Jones’s whip and wit to survive. She couldn’t wait to see what her godson would do next.
Lennox picked up her index card and scribbled her first word in orange marker. Words two and three took a few seconds each. Garrett finished before her. He flipped his cards facedown onto the middle of the bed.
Nox shuffled the cards, sliding them around on her comforter.
“Are you sure that ink is dry?” Lennox scanned the creamy fluffiness for any sign of Sharpie transfer. She’d heard kids somehow made messes just by looking at something clean. No streaks of orange marked her bedding. She sagged with relief.
“You pick first, Gran,” Nox said, grinning.
“What happens if a word stumps her?” Lennox asked.
“Then the person who wrote it gets a point.” Garrett stretched, reaching for the ceiling. “If she tells a good story, she gets a point.”
His muscles strained the fabric across his upper arms. Lennox tilted her head. Damn those biceps looked good. She blew out a breath and looked away, without pain. The Flexeril had kicked in. Actually no pain unless you counted the burning need between her thighs. With all the great prescriptions drugs on the market, you’d think they’d have invented an anti-horniness pill. It’d fix a whole lot of bad situations.
An announcer voice boomed inside her head, In love with your hot English prof? Swallow down the Prude Pill and stop whoring your way to that A. Can’t stop scheduling extra examinations with your sexy doc? Take the Prude Pill and quit begging for plastic glove love.
The possibilities went on and on. She’d pay good money for a prescription drug that cured lusting for your gorgeous ex-best friend who’d broken your heart and knew exactly what to say to piss you off. No wonder “hot” described both arousal and anger equally well. Her rage kept turning into raging desire.
Damn you, Anderson Garrett Westlake. Damn you to hunk of burning love hell.
The sound of crickets filled the room, actual crickets from her backyard. Her three companions had gone silent. Each of them stared at her with differing degrees of amusement.
“Were my lips moving?” she asked.
Gran readjusted the shawl around her shoulders. “Let’s hope I’m the only one who can read your lips.”
Garrett cleared his throat. “You’re not,” he said dryly. “What hunk of hell am I supposed to burn in?”
“You said what?” Nox nudged her thigh with his bent knee.
Lennox sucked one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth. “What word did you pull, Gran?”
Gran shook her head and flicked the index card she’d chosen a few times, allowing her eyes to adjust. “Home.” The senior Averdeen hugged herself and rocked side to side. “I have the perfect picture for that.”
She flipped through the overstuffed photo album lying in front of her. Pausing she flipped back a few pages before she found what she wanted. Gran turned the book to show them and tapped the corner of a sepia-tone image with her index finger. In it a family of three, with dark sienna skin and wavy hair, plus two men and women of varying nationalities posed on the steps of Averdeen Manor. Lennox knew this photograph well. Every time Gran felt sentimental she brought out the family photo album. Afterward nostalgia and pride always overcame Lennox. Not a bad thing at all. They’d come a long way.
When she spoke, Gran’s watery voice touched Lennox. She settled in to listen to the story the same as Nox, who was hearing it for the first time.
“For some m
ystical reason three immigrants moved into LuPines between 1915 and 1919. They settled here for various reasons. One had seen pictures, another thought to find kin, the third had walked from New York. Whatever the reasons this caused a stir.”
“I’m guessing the town was a lot more insular then,” Garrett said.
“I’d go with small minded,” Gran shrugged, “but you’re kinder than me.”
Lennox giggled. Garrett smiled. Whether Lennox’s giggle had brought it out or Gran had delighted him. Who knew? A sexy smile didn’t care who caused it.
“Folks in town gave those three a hard time. They could barely find a place to eat or a room to rent.” Gran put her arms around Nox. “Maybe those accents scared the town. I’m not sure. But the Deen family, who lived right here, understood what they were going through.”
“Why?” Nox asked, leaning into her.
“Well, the Deens had an ancestor who’d been a slave. With slavery not over for more than sixty years and them being a mixed family, you can imagine how well that went over at parties.”
“I don’t understand that whole thing,” Nox said.
Gran shook her head. “It’s not something we can explain to you tonight.” She kissed his forehead. “But I’ve got some books you can read.”
“Can you send them to my eReader?”
“Hell no.” Gran patted his cheek. “You better get enough gumption to turn the pages of a book.”
They stuck out their tongues at each other. Garrett chuffed and reached over to check Lennox’s temperature. She almost let him but pushed his hand away at the last second.
“Cutting a long story down to size, our three immigrants ended up helping to transform one peach tree into an orchard. Gradually, and through sticking together against the bullies of this town, Mr. and Mrs. Deen, their daughter Savannah, Yash from India, Ayla from Turkey, and Jarek from Poland, became one family.” Gran rested her cheek against the top of Nox’s head and continued. “They all changed their names to Averdeen. Aver means ‘we’ll see’ or ‘now’ in Spanish. So they all became ‘now Deens’ and eventually marriages and children and time blended us together. That’s how the Averdeens made this house and this town home.”
“Wow,” Nox said. “That’s a good one.”
Score a point for Grandma. Lennox gave herself a secret point too. She’d wanted Nox to hear that story when she wrote “home” on her index card. She hoped he’d understand you’re not always born into a home. Sometimes you find one.
“My turn.” Nox stirred the index cards around a bit more. He chose and read out his word. “Chicken.”
Lennox grumbled. “You’re hilarious, Garrett.”
Chicken, especially the frozen kind, made her blush every time. If Nox could find the right picture, he’d definitely earn a point. Sure enough he pulled up an image of her and Garrett eating chicken tenders. A series of red blotches covered her face and hands in the picture.
“Dad, can you tell this one?”
“Without a doubt.” Garrett ran a thumb across his lips. Apparently he thought he could erase his cheese-eating grin by rubbing it away. “It’s a favorite of mine,” he said, puffing-up-politician-at-the-podium style. “Lennox and I shared a house in college. One day I stepped out of the shower and heard kabloosh followed by a loud hiss. I thought a giant anaconda had slithered into the kitchen.”
He paused. The funniest expression Lennox had ever seen him wear crossed his face. “So I ran in there to save Lennox—” Garrett doubled over. His shoulders shook violently. He didn’t make a sound but if he didn’t stop laughing soon, Lennox would pelt him with a marker.
“Are you serious right now?” she asked. “Tell the damn story already.”
Garrett swallowed and straightened. “It turned out the kitchen needed saving from Lennox.”
“What happened?” Nox leaned in. He probably hadn’t known such a funny story went with such a harmless picture.
“Well, son, our friend Lennox had ignored the laws of basic science. She’d thrown a frozen chicken breast into the deep fryer and…” Garrett mimed a mushroom cloud in the air. “Kabloom! Her face and hands looked like she’d been splattered with red ink for a week.”
Unable to control himself, Mr. Storyteller threw himself across the bed and rolled onto his back laughing. A hoot cut through Garrett’s guffaws. Gran tried her best to hold it in, but she knew Lennox too well. She could probably envision the whole scene vividly. After shaking for ten seconds she hooted again and didn’t stop.
Nox made a face. He looked at Lennox and said, “I don’t get it.”
She smiled. “I know, hon, and I’m too ashamed to explain it to you right now. Maybe in the morning.”
He seemed satisfied with that. Gran and his dad kept laughing. Every few minutes Gran yelled, “Frozen chicken.” Afterward Garrett nodded and pounded the bed. “In the deep fryer.” During one of these exchanges he said, “Good thing she didn’t let it get hot enough or I’d have had to mummify her in bandages and aloe vera.”
Lennox threw the orange marker at his head. He caught it and went on with his enjoyment. Nox’s lips thinned. He didn’t like being left out of the joke. “Lennox,” he said, “was this before you and dad met my mom?”
“Yeah, right before we met her. She was working in the school infirmary. She’s the one who fixed me up,” Lennox said.
Her godson crawled up the bed and snuggled in beside her. “She liked you a lot. Dad has this letter where she said you and him could make a box of matches funny. She said you kept her laughing and you knew how to listen.”
Lennox hid the bulk of her pain from Nox. He didn’t need to see it, but her lips trembled against her will. “Oh, Nox, I liked her a lot too.” Ignoring the twinge in her neck and the ache in her temple, she hugged her godson. “I loved her. Her laugh. Her patience. Her kindness. The food she made. She amazed me.”
Nox settled in closer to her, laying his head on her chest. “Leni?”
“Yeah?”
“Will you be my godmother for real?”
“I already am.”
He tilted up to meet her eyes. She noticed how still the room had gone. Both Garrett and Gran watched them.
“I mean will you be my second mother? You know, like a second chance?”
Lennox yanked him into her arms. “Of course. Every day. All day,” she said.
Garrett’s harsh voice startled them. “Nox, go to bed.”
“But—” Nox began.
“Just go. Gran set you up with a room. Right?” After he received a nod in response Garrett went on. “I’ll come in and stay with you in a few.”
Her chest hurt as she watched her godson leave. What had gotten into Garrett this time? He answered her. “Let’s not go there, Lennox,” he said, through gritted teeth.
He strode out of the room, leaving Gran gaping and Lennox fuming. Such a freaking hypocrite. One minute he didn’t want her to abandon Nox. The next he didn’t want her to step up. She hadn’t been good enough to be the mother of his children and now she wasn’t good enough to be a second mom.
“Gran, if I say something childish, will you forgive me?” Lennox banged her fists against her thighs. Her grandmother got up, walked around the bed, and stroked her hair.
“Go right ahead,” Gran said.
Lennox leaned back into the pillows Garrett had so carefully fluffed for her. She closed her eyes, hoping to forget, but his face floated behind her lids. “I hate him, Gran. I really do.” She sighed, breathing out her frustration.
Soft fingers threaded through her hair. “You don’t hate him, Leni. That’s what makes him so hard to deal with.”
Chapter Six
Garrett woke up pissed off. Taking a moment to examine his state of mind, he came up with several reasons for it.
1. He ’d overreacted with Nox and Lennox last night. Their c
loseness scared him. Lennox had walked out on him before. When Tina died he hadn’t had anyone to lean on. He couldn’t let that happened to his son.
2. He wanted Lennox to be a part of their lives, but it wasn’t going to happen. Not only could Nox get hurt, what if his own loneliness confused him and he slipped up? He couldn’t risk it. He’d stay away from her despite yearning for her presence.
3. Her laughter had been floating through the halls for a good fifteen minutes now. And Ian Somers took the credit for her enjoyment.
Two of those factors propelled Garret out of bed. He didn’t bother putting on a shirt. Let Lennox see his bare chest. Then they’d put an end to all this mirth first thing in the morning.
Garrett sauntered into Lennox’s bedroom. “You two need to keep it down.” He flexed his pecks. “Nox is still asleep.”
Yeah, he felt like an idiot. So what? Ian and Lennox turned from their conversation. She rolled her eyes. Ian apologized and paused. “Holy shit, dude, that’s a spectacular set of pectoral muscles. Do you work out? I mean, you gotta. I count one, two, three, four.” Ian mockingly fanned himself. “Yup, that’s a genuine eight pack.”
To her credit Lennox averted her gaze so she wouldn’t embarrass Garrett. She didn’t look directly at him but ended up giggling anyway. He almost covered his nipples out of shame, but he’d pierce both of them with thorns before he let Ian out alpha him. Garrett didn’t come into the room to be ridiculed. He came to do the ridiculing. He’d been named one of the Top Ten Most Influential People In Hollywood. Directors, producers, and actors fought for appointments on his schedule. GQ Magazine created a feature called The Westlake Look to chart his sense of style. Plus, he actually did have a pretty damn dazzling set of chest muscles and the abs to match.
“Close your eyes, Ian,” Garrett said. “Stare at me any longer and you’ll get confused about what makes an alpha male.”
Ian started to respond but aborted. He stood up from the edge of Lennox’s bed. “I’ve got to get back to the vineyards, Leni.” He kissed her forehead. “Take better care of yourself. You don’t want me to have to move in to look after you. Do you?”