Good. Eve was going to get to see her daughter and maybe accomplish the very thing that he should have never come here to try to do.
Maybe.
Tessie certainly didn’t respond with a welcome greeting to her mom, but Lawson didn’t wait around to see how this would play out. Nope. He headed home, knowing he’d filled his “stupid things to do” quota for the day.
CHAPTER EIGHT
TANGLED MEMORIES DIDN’T go away just because you were sick and tired of trying to untangle them. Lawson already knew that, of course, but coming home to Wrangler’s Creek made it much harder to shove those memories to the back of his mind.
To get to the Granger Ranch, he had to drive through town and right down Main Street. That meant going past the high school that Eve and he had attended.
Brett, too.
There’d been football games, pop quizzes and more goofing off than studying. Things that all three of them had done together. The only times Brett had been excluded had been when lust played its hot little hand with Lawson and Eve. Lawson had made out with her too many times to count beneath the bleachers of the football field. And the baseball dugout. Oh, and in the gym where the basketball team played.
Apparently, sports venues had been libido triggers for Eve and him.
Once he’d driven past the high school, he got another blast from the past. He had to go right by Eve’s grandfather’s old house. Of course, her grandfather was long gone, and the place had changed hands several times over the past decade and a half. But Lawson had spent enough time in that house with Eve that even after all this time, it was approximately twenty-two thousand square feet of memories. Specifically, memories of him making out with Eve there in her bedroom.
In fact, the whole damn town, surrounding area and much of the county had become their make-out zones, which meant there were few places he could go that wouldn’t trigger the past.
His new house was an exception.
Even though she lived only a short distance away, there were no traces of Eve inside his place. The trick would be to keep it that way. Lawson knew he was tough, but he wasn’t sure his heart could stand another stomping. Darby had been safe. No chance of her hurting him because he would have never let things get deep with her. But Eve, well, she could still do some more damage after all these years. Seeing her in Austin had only confirmed that.
Lawson drove to the Granger Ranch. More memories. The barn, this time where Eve and he had had a romp or two. He made a mental note to limit his future sexual escapades to places he didn’t have to see on a daily basis.
Thankfully, there was work to do when he got to the ranch. A long buying trip like his came with paperwork, invoices and adjusting work schedules so there’d be enough hands around to deal with the shipments of the new cattle as they came in. No Garrett though. His cousin had apparently taken a rare day off to spend time with his wife and kids. Sophie was doing the same with her husband and twins.
Lawson still didn’t want a spouse or kids, but now that Eve had likely managed a reunion with Tessie, he was feeling a little like the odd man out. Yeah, he was stuck in a rut, but it was a rut that suited him.
Or rather it had until Eve had come back with that crapload of memories in tow.
Now he’d just have to work harder to make that rut the way it had been six weeks earlier.
Once he finished his work, he drove to his new house. Home, he mentally corrected himself, and he wondered just how long it would take for home to be his go-to word for the life he was trying to build for himself. Maybe a while—especially since there was an unwelcome sight waiting for him by the Heavenly Pastures’ gate.
Vita.
Her bicycle was leaning against the fence, and she had a chicken tucked under her arm. A live, ugly one. Emphasis on ugly. Of course, he’d never actually seen what he’d call a pretty chicken, but this one was dingy mouse gray with sprigs of black feathers poking out in random spots—including on its head.
Lawson stopped and lowered his window. “Yeah, I know. There’s a curse on me the size of elephant balls.”
Vita stared at him as if he’d just said the most ridiculous thing possible. Since those were the very words she’d foretold six weeks ago, he just stared back at her.
“There’s no more curse—for the time being, anyway,” Vita finally said after the staring match went on for several seconds. She tried to hand him the chicken, but when he didn’t take it, she frowned again. “You want more stitches in your heinie, do you?”
Lawson wasn’t sure if that was a threat or if it was chicken related. “Not especially.”
“Then take the hen.” She practically tossed it onto his seat. “Her name is Prissy Pants, and she’ll make things play out the way they should.”
There were so many things wrong with that explanation. “Play out?” he repeated. “You mean, it’ll go the way you say it’ll go?”
She huffed. “Not me. The fates, of course.” She mumbled something, but the only word he caught was stupid. “Keep Prissy Pants with you for a month, and your life will be back on its right course. All your bad karma over breaking up with Darby will be fixed.”
Lawson had been about to hand the chicken back to Vita, but that stopped him. Vita had indeed been right about the horns-baby-concussion-stitches curse. And while he really didn’t want to believe in anything Vita said, he didn’t want another butt injury, either.
“Uh, does Prissy Pants need a cage or anything?” he asked. Yeah, he was apparently buying into this. With a chicken whose name he didn’t want to say aloud.
“No. Just let her roam around your yard. You got some low trees, and she can roost in one of them. She’ll eat bugs until you get a chance to buy her some chicken feed.”
Great. Now he would have to buy feed to keep this hope alive of righted fates and karma.
“I’ll be back for Prissy Pants in a month,” Vita called out to him as she went to her bike.
Feeling duped and oh-so skeptical, Lawson looked at the chicken, but he could have sworn that Prissy Pants was exhibiting some skepticism of her own.
“It’s just for a month,” he muttered. Then he cursed himself for talking to poultry before he pressed in the security numbers on the panel to open the gate.
The chicken squawked when Lawson released the brake and the truck lurched forward. And she just kept on squawking and flapping her wings around. The rest of her didn’t stay still, either, and Lawson damn near ran off the road when she flew right in his face.
This wasn’t a good start to karma-fixing.
Thankfully, his house wasn’t far from the gate, and the moment he pulled into his driveway, he threw open the passenger’s door so the chicken could jump out. She stayed put, and this time when she looked at Lawson, there appeared to be a smidge of stink eye. A sort of if you want me out of here, then move me yourself.
He’d already compromised enough of his dignity for one day, so he merely left the truck doors open, got out and hoped the hen would be able to find her own way into the yard.
As he always did when he went in the new place, he held his breath. There’d been so many hitches with the idiotic construction crew that he was never quite sure what he was going to face. And that’s why he was pleasantly surprised that nothing looked wrong. Just the opposite. It looked like, well, home.
Lawson dropped his keys on the foyer table, smiling at the fact there was not only a table but also a completed foyer. With flooring and painted walls. The flooring and paint carried through the rest of the house where he saw his furniture. Obviously, the hands had moved the things from his house in town, and even though there were still plenty of boxes that needed to be unpacked, he made a mental note to give them all big fat bonuses.
The smiling, however, stopped when he made it to the kitchen. The green countertop that he’d nixed several times was still in place, but it see
med to be the only screwup. Maybe he could learn to live with stone that looked like pond scum with dabs of yellow fungus in it. Someone had even stocked his fridge with beer and put a few groceries in his pantry. Hell, there were flowers on the breakfast table, and next to it was a big purple box.
He opened the card on the package and read the note. A housewarming gift. Go to your living room window and look out. Dylan.
The gift was a pair of binoculars, and Lawson didn’t intend to thank his brother for it. Because before he even took the binoculars to the specified location—his living room—he knew what he would see.
Eve’s house.
What Lawson hadn’t expected to see was Eve herself. But there she was. She was in the garden on the side of her house and appeared to be tending to the roses. Obviously, she hadn’t stayed in Austin very long if she was already back. Maybe that meant the reconciliation with Tessie had flopped.
He zoomed in to try to get a better look at Eve’s face and expression. Just to see if she was upset or something.
Hell.
The binoculars were good enough that he could see her crying. He doubted this was allergy related. No. He was betting this had to do with the problems she was having with Tessie. Issues that had nothing to do with him, he reminded himself, and that’s why he put the binoculars on the foyer table and turned away.
Not easily.
But he managed it.
Since he knew he should put some distance between the front window and him, Lawson grabbed a beer and headed out back and had a look around. No fence nor was there any landscaping as there was at Eve’s–his mom’s old house, and he intended to keep it that way.
He wanted the view of the creek even though it coiled around the very land that could ultimately fuel a feud. Lawson was hoping since he was smack-dab in the middle of that contentious land that both sides of the Grangers would eventually agree to sell him those acres.
By then, Eve would have probably moved on and gone back to California.
The idea of that didn’t settle as well in his gut as he’d thought it would. It especially didn’t settle well in a specific part of him. That brainless wonder behind the zipper of his jeans.
Well, crap.
Now his dick had apparently decided that he was going to be damned if Eve stayed or even more damned if she left.
He was still cursing himself and his idiotic body part when he heard the sound of a car engine, so Lawson made his way back through the house to the front door. He threw it open, definitely not expecting to see the person who was now on his front porch.
Darby.
She had her index finger positioned over the doorbell that she was obviously about to ring, and she shrieked when she saw him. Lawson made his own sound of surprise, but his was mixed with a little confusion. He had no idea why his ex was there. Or better yet, why she was in red stiletto heels and a raincoat. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky.
“Oh,” she said, studying his face. “You didn’t get my message.” Before he could answer that, though, she motioned toward the driveway. “What’s Prissy Pants doing here?”
Since the chicken was now pecking at the grass in the front yard, she’d obviously figured out how to get out of his truck. “How’d you know that was her name?”
Darby’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened. And she suddenly looked about as comfortable as a steer’s rump on a hot branding iron.
“I saw her at Vita’s,” Darby stated.
Lawson could fill in the blanks. There was only one reason people went to see Vita. For fortune telling, curses or potions. Great. Maybe Vita had put together a curse for Darby.
“And you really didn’t get my message?” Darby continued, again before he could speak. “I came by earlier to bring over some beer and food, and I left it with one of the workers.”
So, Darby had done that. The cold beer suddenly didn’t taste that good, so he set it aside. “Thanks. That was nice of you.” Well, it would have been if Lawson had wanted her to do that. He didn’t. “What’d the note say?”
She got another of those uncomfortable “branding” looks. “That I’d heard you were back from your trip and that I was coming over. I added if that didn’t work for you, then you could call me.”
He tried not to sigh too loud but failed. “It’s not a good time.”
Darby’s uncomfortable look morphed into one of desperation. Lawson might have added an explanation to go with that bad-timing remark if Darby hadn’t thrown open her raincoat. She didn’t have on a stitch of clothes underneath.
And she’d obviously opted for a Brazilian wax and gold navel ring. Body glitter, too.
Normally, those were things he would have noticed and perhaps even appreciated. Of course, a naturally adorned naked woman would have gotten his attention just the same. But in this case, the attention didn’t result in a hard-on. Heck, he didn’t intend to admit this to anyone, but he didn’t even get any twinges in that area.
“Lawson,” Darby said, and she launched herself at him.
He caught her, whirling her around so that her naked body didn’t smack against his, and in the same motion, he maneuvered her inside. It was best not to have any ranch hands or visitors witness this. Because this was going to lead to Darby feeling embarrassed. Something he was already feeling.
Lawson didn’t say anything, but Darby must have realized that he wasn’t exactly taking her up on this not-so-subtle offer. In fact, while keeping her at arm’s length, he pulled the sides of the raincoat back together.
She stared at him, her bottom lip trembling a little. “I thought...well, I thought...” But Darby waved that off. “Vita said if I had any chance of winning you back that it would be today.”
Lawson just lifted an eyebrow. No need for him to spell out that Vita just wasn’t a reliable source for relationship advice. Of course, he did have a chicken prancing around in his yard, and that was proof that Vita could be convincing.
“I know it was stupid to believe her, and now I feel stupid, too.” Tears welled up in Darby’s eyes.
Lawson hated the tears. Hated even more that he was responsible for them. But what he hated most was that he had no idea what to say to Darby that could fix this. That’s why he settled for an “I’m sorry.”
She nodded, blinked back the tears and then tipped her head to his beer. “Can I have one of those, and then I’ll be on my way?”
It was a simple request, but Lawson wondered if this was some kind of ploy. Maybe Darby thought if she got drunk, or if she got him drunk, they’d land in bed.
“It’s just a beer,” she added because she probably saw his hesitation.
Lawson continued with the hesitation a couple more seconds before he sighed and headed to the fridge.
“I saw the for-sale sign on your house in town,” she called out. Apparently, she’d moved on from a seduction attempt to small talk. “Any offers yet?”
“No.” But sometimes houses in Wrangler’s Creek stayed on the market for months. This wasn’t exactly a hotbed of Realtor activity. That was okay though. There was no mortgage on either of his places, so he wasn’t strapped for cash. That was one of the few advantages of being a Granger.
When Lawson came back into the living room, he was pleased that Darby had kept her raincoat closed. He wasn’t pleased, though, that she had picked up the binoculars and was using them to look out the front window.
“Oh,” she said.
For just one syllable, it had a lot of emotion in it. Hurt, yes. Some anger, too. And her eyes were narrowed a little when she looked back at him.
“Eve,” she added.
“Dylan,” he explained. “That’s his idea of a housewarming gift.” He so wished, though, that he hadn’t explained that because it put a new spark of hope in Darby’s eyes.
“Oh,” Darby repeated. This time a sliver of a smile tugged a
t her mouth. She looked out the binoculars again and no doubt had Eve in her sights. “Oh.”
This time, though, the oh was different. There seemed to be some alarm in it. Lawson got confirmation of the alarm when Darby added, “Oh, God. You have to do something to help her.”
That sent Lawson scurrying to the window. He practically shoved the beer into Darby’s hand so he could take the binoculars and have a look for himself. It was Eve all right, and she was still in the garden.
But she was no longer alone.
Eve appeared to be having a showdown with none other than the Grim Reaper.
CHAPTER NINE
ALL THE CRYING had made her congested and plugged up her ears, and that’s probably why Eve hadn’t heard the footsteps behind her a lot sooner.
Especially these footsteps.
When she finally heard them and whirled around, she immediately spotted the intruder. It would have been impossible to miss him. He was wearing a shiny black cape that puddled on the ground and thigh-high leather boots with platform heels that added a good four inches to his already six-foot height. He was also carrying a black metal shield and a scythe blade.
Clearly, this was one of the hornies but one who preferred to dress the part rather than just deposit horns here or there. He had on the garb of a Swaron warrior, the characters who routinely kidnapped and tortured Ulyana so they could in turn use her to get to Stavros.
In the scripts, Eve had the same reaction every time a Swaron appeared. A sharp gasp, followed by a look of terror in her eyes. She did that now out of habit. And also out of habit, she reached for one of her prop knives. Which wasn’t there, of course.
The bottle of environmentally friendly aphid spray didn’t seem nearly as menacing as a poison-laced switchblade.
“Ulyana?” the intruder said. “Uh, is that you?”
Obviously, he didn’t follow script because he didn’t have a gravelly, threatening voice. What he did have was a Texas-sized amount of surprise in his tone. Probably because he hadn’t expected the teen demon hunter to be a thirtysomething-year-old woman in cutoff sweatpants and with a slightly pudgy baby belly. Well, they were even. She hadn’t expected a “fan” to be here.
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