But Kellan would. He lived for firestorms of publicity.
That gave Eve a new wallop of anger, and she snatched up her phone to call the doofus. No answer. It went to voice mail, and she had to listen to his recorded gag-worthy greeting—“Hey, it’s Kell. Say something sweet to me, and I’ll get back to you with something sweeter.”—before she could leave him a message that definitely didn’t fall into the sweet category.
“Call me, you asshole.” Eve instantly regretted using the crude term. Even though it was accurate. Still, she’d said it in front of Tessie and Aiden.
“You know why Kellan did this,” Cassidy said. It wasn’t a question.
Yes, Eve did know. “This will get Kellan’s name in the tabloids. It could spur some new interest in a reunion show for Demon High.”
Tessie’s mouth dropped open. “You’re not doing Demon High again, are you?”
“No,” Eve quickly reassured her. She repeated that no to Lawson. “Not a chance, but Kellan’s been pressuring me for years.”
“Yes, because he can’t get another acting job where women drool over him and fondle his horns,” Cassidy interjected.
That was true, as well. “You said Kellan was here in town?” Eve asked Lawson.
He nodded. “He was at the Longhorn when he did that lying sack of crap interview. According to the time it was uploaded on the internet, he talked to those reporters only an hour ago. You want me to kick his butt for doing this?”
“Yes!” Cassidy and Tessie answered in unison.
It was tempting, but that would only make matters worse. “The press would get pictures and then do big blow-up articles about you punching out Kellan’s lights because you’re jealous of him and me. That could lead to speculations about the jealousy, and some nosy reporter could even make the connection that you’re Tessie’s father.”
Cassidy groaned. “And then the Granger Ranch would get sucked into this cesspool of news. Tessie would, too. She doesn’t need any more publicity right now with her expulsion under review.”
Until Cassidy had added that last part, both Tessie and Lawson both looked as if they might still lobby for Kellan to get a good butt-kicking. Thankfully, that seemed to make them grasp just how ugly this could get if not handled properly.
Eve grabbed her purse. “I’ll go find Kellan and quietly talk this out with him—away from reporters and the press. I’ll keep it all very low-key.”
That sounded civilized enough, and Kellan was going to agree to it—even if she had to threaten him with the butt-whipping. Of course, a low-key chat was just the beginning. Eventually, they’d have to work out what Kellan would say to the press about Tessie. Maybe the best way to go was to say nothing about Kellan’s lie. Then Lawson and the Grangers wouldn’t get dragged into this.
“I’ll go with you,” Lawson offered.
Eve didn’t even have to think about it. She shook her head. “Low-key,” she repeated. “I’ll call you after I’ve talked to him.”
She brushed a quick kiss on Tessie’s and Aiden’s cheeks and wanted to do the same to Lawson, but the timing was bad for that. Later though, maybe she could work in some kisses or at least a good hug when she told him they’d dodged a bullet with the defective condom.
As she got into her car, Eve tried to call Kellan again, but when it went to voice mail, she hung up rather than waiting for his greeting or leaving another message. She drove out of the ranch, frustrated when she saw a fresh pile of horns, a Swaron and a photographer.
Good grief.
Since they weren’t actually on the ranch, they weren’t trespassing, but they had no right to be there. She opened the gate and got out to demand that they leave. However, the moment she opened her car door, three more Swarons came rushing out from behind the bushes. And they didn’t just rush. They yodeled that Swaron battle cry just as the actors had done on Demon High.
Even though she knew these were hornies, her body geared up for an attack. “Get back!” she yelled in the best Ulyana voice she could manage. But it didn’t work. The three of them latched on to her, one on each arm and the third one catching onto her waist.
Eve kicked the center one in the nuts. He cursed, howled, caught onto his family jewels and dropped to his knees. “My nuts!” he yelled.
She was about to pivot and do the same to the other two when she heard something else she didn’t want to hear.
Applause.
Then laughter, followed by more clapping.
“I told you she hadn’t lost any of her form,” someone said.
Kellan.
And he was the clapping fool who stepped out of the bushes along with two photographers who were snapping pictures of her. A third guy was making a video of this debacle. The guy on the ground was gasping for air, holding his groin and yelling “My nuts.”
“Well, maybe she lost a little step,” Kellan went on—clearly oblivious to the scalpel-sharp glare she was giving him. And the yelling Swaron. “But that’ll all come back with some training.”
He went to her, still oblivious, and he hooked his arm around her. “Stavros and Ulyana back together again,” he announced to more applause and pictures.
“No. We’re. Not,” Eve managed to say through clenched teeth, which Kellan didn’t seem to notice, either.
“Play along, Baby-Cakes,” he whispered when he brushed a kiss next to her ear. “This is the start of something big. When the studio sees this, they’ll jump to get us back.”
Eve untangled herself from him so he could see her angry face when she spoke. “I don’t want the studio to jump at us because I’m not doing another episode of Demon High.”
The standing Swarons gasped. The one on the ground started another round of yelling about his nuts. The photographers kept clicking and filming.
“Play along,” Kellan warned her again. “This is a good deal for both of us.”
In that moment, Kellan had never been a bigger ass. “No, it’s not a good deal for me.”
He ignored her, gave a fake Hollywood laugh and kissed her scowling, tight lips. “Don’t screw this up for me, Baby-Cakes. I didn’t put up a fuss when you were knocked up with Tessie on the set and when you had Aiden. So, you more or less owe me.”
Eve had thought the old saying “seeing red” was just a cliché. Not something literal. But she saw red. Bright, angry, mean, bad-tempered red. That’s why it wasn’t a good idea when Kellan took hold of her shoulders to keep her from getting back in her car.
Kellan held on. Eve brought up her hands to shove him away. He turned. She turned. And somehow her hip ended up ramming him in the groin. It was apparently just as effective as a kneeing because Kellan howled, grabbed his crotch and went down like the Swaron.
Eve reached for Kellan, not that he deserved to be helped to his feet, but she hadn’t intended to hurt him. Ditto for the Swaron. But as she was reaching for Kellan, the photographers started running. They were heading back to their vehicles, which were parked just up the road.
Getting away.
And Eve knew exactly where they were going. Within an hour, maybe less, the picture of her hitting Stavros in his privates would be front-page news on the tabloids.
* * *
LAWSON KNEW THAT people had different definitions of what low-key meant, but he seriously doubted this picture was on any part of anyone’s low-key scale. Especially Eve’s.
It was the latest photo of the encounter she’d had with Kellan two days earlier, and it was making the rounds on the internet and TV gossip shows. Making the rounds on his phone, too, since people kept sending it to him. In this case, Lucian was the messenger. He’d texted Lawson a copy at 2:00 a.m. Not that Lawson had been asleep. No. A nightmare about Brett had seen to that, and he’d been pacing in his living room in his boxers, glancing at the whiskey bottle, when his phone had dinged. Because of the hour, he had known i
t wouldn’t be good news.
And it wasn’t.
This photo was not only a different angle of the actual balls-bump that had sent Kellan to his knees. It also included the Heavenly Pastures name on the gate. Lucian hadn’t included a message with the photo, but Lawson knew there was only one thing his brother would want to say.
Fix this.
Of course, there was no putting that particular cat back in the bag, but Lawson figured the tabloids would soon latch on to something else, and it would die down. It might not die down for Tessie though until she found out if she was going to be kicked out of college. And then her expulsion could only stir up the paparazzi again.
That was on Lawson’s mind, too, as he kept pacing. So was Eve. And even Kellan since the man was still rankled at Eve and vice versa. But the thing that was weighing heaviest right now were the pieces of the nightmare that were still with him.
Especially the different pieces.
Normally, the nightmares were all the same. Various fragments of the party. Eve. Always Eve. And then assorted versions of them discovering Brett unconscious. Not so much of an actual nightmare but the real memories that ate away at him.
This one had been different though.
This time, Lawson had gone down the stairs, alone, and he’d seen Brett on the sofa. Not unconscious—yet. But still drinking. Still alive. The dream was still a dream in that things weren’t as they’d been. Furniture in odd places. The blurred edges of the images.
It had felt real.
Was it?
Had he actually gone down those stairs in time to stop what was about to go wrong? Until tonight, Lawson would have said no, that he had no memories in between sacking out with Eve and finding Brett the following morning. That’s why most folks had blamed Eve. She had seen Brett. She had gone down those stairs. But maybe Eve had gotten a bad rap. Maybe he was the person solely to blame for this.
Lawson groaned, pressing his hands to the sides of his head, wishing for some peace that wouldn’t come. Well, it could come with the whiskey, but it would be only temporary. Still, temporary seemed pretty damn good right now, and Lawson was losing his battle with his willpower.
Until someone knocked on his door.
His gut tightened even more than it had with the photo that Lucian had sent. Because a wee-hours-of-the-morning knock was almost certainly going to be worse than a text arriving at that same time.
Or not.
He opened his door to find Eve on his porch. She was wearing a robe over a nightgown, both short, and she had a pint of Ooey Gooey ice cream and a spoon in her hand. A pint and spoon that she thrust at him.
“I was up and pacing and looked through the binoculars to see you doing the same thing.” She walked in, her body brushing against his. “Maybe you should invest in curtains because I clearly have no willpower when it comes to spying on you. Sorry about that.”
Lawson wasn’t sorry—though he should consider curtains. He’d needed something but wasn’t sure what until he saw Eve. And no, this wasn’t about sex. It just eased the nightmare to have her there. A first. Because usually coupling her with the memories of Brett only made things worse.
“How did you get here?” he asked. “I didn’t hear your car.”
“I walked, using the flashlight on my phone.” She put the ice cream and spoon in his hand and tipped her head to the whiskey. “I saw that, too,” she added. “Saw how you were eyeing it. And I came up with an idea. You eat my vice, and I’ll drink yours. That way, neither one of us will be giving in to the demons.”
Leave it to Eve to come up with something like that, but Lawson couldn’t help but smile. He shut the door, following her into the living room, but she made a detour into the kitchen to come up with a shot glass.
She did indeed pour herself a drink, took a sip, grimaced. Then gagged. “My coping mechanism tastes better than yours.”
He had a bite of the ice cream and agreed. But unless he ate enough to put him in a sugar coma, the whiskey was going to work better at shoving aside those memories. Shoving aside common sense though, too. But at least the Ooey Gooey wouldn’t leave him with a hangover.
“So, why were you pacing?” Lawson asked, sitting on the sofa next to her. “This isn’t about the condom, is it?”
She shook her head, had another sip of the whiskey. Another grimace followed. “No. That all worked out. I was right about it being the wrong time of the month. Hortense came.”
He was going to assume that Hortense was what she called her period and that some other person hadn’t come into this crazy episode that was their lives. But at least now they wouldn’t have to add an unplanned pregnancy on top of everything else.
“I was pacing because of bad dreams,” she said. “You?”
Lawson nodded. “A nightmare about Brett. I thought I came down the stairs and saw him. I thought I could have saved him.”
She looked at him, lowering the shot glass that she’d had right against her mouth. “You didn’t come downstairs.”
He looked at her, too. “Are you saying that to try to make me feel better?”
“No. Nothing will make us feel better about what happened to Brett that night. This is always going to suck, and it’s never going to heal.”
There it was, all in an ugly little nutshell. Whiskey and ice cream wouldn’t fix that. Apparently, neither could time.
“I said you didn’t go downstairs because you didn’t,” she went on. “You sleep like a rock, especially after sex, and I don’t. If you’d gotten out of bed, I would have known it.” She turned away, staring down into the glass. “I was the only one who could have saved Brett, and I didn’t.”
That wasn’t completely true. And maybe it was the sugar rush or the exhaustion from lack of sleep, but Lawson suddenly had a light-bulb moment. “Brett could have saved himself by not drinking. No way though could we blame him because we feel so guilty about losing him.”
Suddenly, there were tears in Eve’s eyes, and while he could be clueless sometimes about emotions, he knew these weren’t of the happy variety. On a heavy sigh, he slipped his arm around her and pulled her to him.
“Maybe we’re not supposed to forget,” he went on, wishing he knew the right thing to say. “Maybe that’s the price of loving and losing someone. It’s always with us. Always there. Always bittersweet.”
She lifted her head from his shoulder, their gazes connecting. “Like us?”
“Like us,” he agreed.
Lawson didn’t kiss her though their mouths were only inches apart. He held back not because he didn’t want to kiss her—he did—but because the timing was definitely wrong. She hadn’t come here for kissing and sex but rather to soothe some of their raw edges from grief.
The silence crawled on for a few long moments before she had another sip of the whiskey. While she grimaced, she motioned toward the ice cream. “If you eat a big spoonful, the brain freeze will help chase away the images. Of course, you’ll get a bad headache, too.”
Pain. Something Lawson hadn’t considered for coping. He tried it. It worked. But now he was the one grimacing.
“How’s Tessie?” he asked, hoping it didn’t cause her eyes to tear up again.
“Moody and moping. A lot like what I’ve been doing. I suppose you’ve seen the pictures of Kellan and his injured nuts?”
He settled for a nod. “I’m sure he deserved it. And more. He didn’t fess up to the lie he told about being Tessie’s father.”
She tossed back the rest of the shot before she answered. “No, and I haven’t pushed it because anything that any of us says right now will only fan the tabloid flames.”
Lawson agreed. Maybe Kellan would work with that same theory and stay out of sight while nursing his bruised balls.
“Does Lucian want me to move off the ranch?” she asked.
Because both Ev
e and he knew Lucian well, Lawson had figured the question was coming. “Probably. But that’s no reason for you to go. It’s nice to see Lucian irritated about something not going his way.”
She made a sound of agreement, took the spoon from him and had a bite of the ice cream.
“I heard about Darby’s offer to contact the dean.” Eve handed him back the spoon. “Or rather Cassidy heard about it when she went into town to get some groceries.”
So, that was on the gossips’ agenda. Surprising, since there were so many other tidbits to spread around.
“It was nice of Darby to offer,” Eve went on, “but I’m worried it’ll come with strings attached. Strings for you.”
He would have loved to deny that, but as a general rule Lawson didn’t like to fudge the truth to himself. Darby might indeed see this as a way back into his life especially since she thought that Kellan was Tessie’s father. That might cause Darby to believe that Lawson would be free to take up with her again.
“I’ll text Darby and tell her thanks but no thanks,” Lawson assured her. It was something he’d strongly considered doing, but he hadn’t wanted to get rid of a possible lifeline if Eve felt it was a good one.
She stood, recapped the whiskey. “I should be leaving so we can both get some rest.” He stood, too, but she didn’t move, and there seemed to be a whole lot of hesitation in her eyes. Maybe because she was going to launch into the kissing and sex that Lawson had already ruled out.
Or not.
“I decided not to sell my California house,” she said, throwing that out there. “In fact, I’m thinking if Tessie does get expelled, then Aiden, Cassidy, her and me will move back there for a while.”
And with that bombshell, she turned to leave. Hell. Was this goodbye? But she stopped and looked at him over her shoulder. Maybe now she would say she was just kidding or that it was the whiskey talking.
Or not.
“Lawson, I really am sorry for screwing up your life,” Eve added before she hurried down the steps and disappeared into the night.
Texas-Sized Trouble Page 24