She opened her mouth. Closed it. How the hell was Sierra so freakin’ observant? She was a spoiled sixteen-year-old kid.
“You can talk to your mom about a lot of things, Rory. But you draw a line with her.”
“So?”
“So why are you so pissed off that she’s doing the same thing with you? Do you really want explicit details about what sex is like between her and my dad?”
“Eww. No!”
“Then what is your fucking problem?”
“My fucking problem is him,” she lied, embarrassed to tell her the real issue. “He’s going to hurt her.”
Sierra rolled her eyes. “Assume much? And don’t give me that crap about him being a—” she made quotes in the air around the word, “—McKay.”
“He is what he is.”
“You’d think you were a West with the big chip you’ve got on your shoulder about the McKays.”
Rory’s eyes turned shrewd. “Maybe there’s validity in the Wests’ point of view. Seems the McKays screw everyone over.”
“The point is, you assume that my dad will screw your mom over. But you know what? I’ve never thought for a single second that your mom might be a gold digger.”
“Why would you even say that?”
“Because my dad has money. Your mom doesn’t. Maybe she seduced him.”
This girl was on some serious crack. “That’s bullshit. My mom is not like that.”
“Yeah? And my dad is not some asshole heartbreaker.”
They stared at each other.
“So much for our agreement last night to stay out of it,” Rory said.
“I tried to, but you won’t let it go.”
“Fine. I’m done. So is that why you’re following me around this morning? To be all smug and shit?”
“Following you around?” Sierra snorted. “As if. I tracked you down to make sure you were still gonna bring up that thing before you left.”
Rory played dumb. “What thing?”
“That thing we discussed last night where you tell my dad that he’s retarding my social development in Sundance by not letting me drive? Remember?”
“Vaguely.”
Sierra looked annoyed. “Don’t be a dick, Rory.”
“All right. But remember you told me I could say it however I wanted—”
“I never said that!”
“Yes, you did.”
“Was that before or after you told Dalton—”
“What’s going on?” Gavin asked sharply.
When had he snuck in?
Of course Gavin gave Rory the evil eye, not his precious Sierra.
“What’s going on? We’re about to demonstrate our favorite cage fighting techniques. Sierra was bragging about a couple of illegal moves and I called her on it.”
“My money is on Sierra.” He flashed his teeth. “I wanted to talk to you about—”
“Last night?” Rory supplied. “Fine. Sierra was my designated driver. And since I don’t have a curfew, I wasn’t ready to leave at midnight. Her lateness is my fault.” But she wouldn’t apologize for it. “However, during my chat with your daughter, I found out a few things that concerned me more than her missing curfew.”
“Such as?”
“Such as why you’re basically keeping her a prisoner out here. You’ve lived here almost three months? And you haven’t taken her to the Golden Boot? Or to Ziggy’s? Or to the Twin Pines? The only reason she went into Dewey’s was to sell raffle tickets with Marin. Those are the hangout spots for everyone in this town, even teenagers.”
Gavin studied Sierra but she was picking her fingernails.
“You don’t know what high school is like in a small town. I do. Most kids in her class have been in the same class since kindergarten. They won’t welcome her with open arms because she’s new. But any time she brings it up—asking when she’ll finally get to drive—you shut her down. I don’t know if you’re dangling her car as some sort of reward, or not letting her drive as some sort of punishment, but the truth is she’s being ostracized…because of you.
“She goes to school and she comes home. That’s it. She’s been to three football games. She’s not in any school clubs. You don’t belong to a church. How are the kids supposed to get to know her when the only time they see her is at school? And you scheduled a family party on the one night of cheerleading tryouts so she couldn’t even do that.”
Gavin wasn’t glaring at Rory; his sole focus was on Sierra. He crossed the room. “Sierra. Sweetheart? Can you look at me please?”
Sierra raised her head.
“Is what Rory’s saying true?”
“Yes.”
Gavin looked baffled. “Why didn’t you say anything to me before now?”
“I did! Last week and every week. But you never listen to me. You think every time I bring it up it’s only about me driving and it’s not. Since we moved here we hardly ever do anything. We cook here. We watch movies and TV here. We don’t go out to eat and we used to go out all the time in Arizona. We used to go out and do things. You don’t even let me go grocery shopping with you anymore. You work from here. It’s like you’ve become a hermit and you expect me to be one too. It’s not fair.”
“You’re right. It’s not. Get your coat. We’ll go into town for a late breakfast and we’ll talk about this.”
“Now?”
“Right now.”
“Can I drive?”
“Why is that always the first question out of your mouth?”
“See! This is exactly what I’m talking about.”
They argued all the way down the stairs.
After they were gone, Rory returned downstairs and whistled for her dog. Jingle trotted over. She patted Jingle’s head. “You ready to hit the road, mutt?”
Jingle barked.
Sadie loped over to see what the barking was about.
“So you’re really leaving?” her mom asked.
“After all that’s gone on, it’s probably best.” She looked up at her mother, leaning against the wall in the dining room. “This isn’t me throwing a tantrum. Or punishing you. I have some stuff to work through.”
“I get that. But why did you come home this weekend? Is there something else going on you wanted to talk to me about?”
She shrugged. “It’ll keep.”
“You sure?”
“Yes. I probably shouldn’t have come anyway. If I get back in time, I can pick up a shift at the bar and I can always use the extra cash.” She regretted the words right after they left her mouth.
“Sweetheart, if you need money—”
“I don’t.” Rory slipped her coat on and zipped it. She patted her pockets to make sure she had her gloves. “I’ll text you when I get to Laramie.”
Her mom hugged her tightly. “I love you.”
Rory closed her eyes. Her mother was so tough and strong and proud. And yet fragile. Sometimes she came off brusque, but Rory knew it was only because every day of Rielle Wetzler’s life had been filled with purpose. Work to accomplish. But beneath that life-toughened demeanor was a tender heart. She hid it well, masking that vulnerability with grit. Rory’s gut clenched with fear that her mom would show those soft parts of herself to Gavin and he wouldn’t appreciate them. Or worse, that he’d somehow destroy them and destroy part of her mom in the process. “I love you too.”
“Drive safe.”
“I will.”
She pulled back and really scrutinized her mother. It sucked that little snot Sierra was right. Her mom did look happy. Very happy.
“What? Do I have woodchips on my face or something?”
“No.” Rory fingered the short ends of her mom’s hair and smiled. “So is Ainsley gloating?”
“About what?”
“She told you if you cut your hair, you’d hook yourself a man. It appears she was right.”
Chapter Twenty-One
“No offense, but there’s nothing in these boxes that I can use for my report,” Sier
ra complained.
“You did call Vi and thank her, right?” Then a thought occurred to him. “You didn’t tell her this information is worthless, did you?”
“God, Dad, way to think so highly of me. I’m not a completely thankless brat.”
Speaking of brat… Gavin held his tongue and waited for his daughter to continue.
“When I called Vi to say thanks, after like the millionth time you reminded me, she asked if she could pick me up at the bus stop tomorrow and take me to Spearfish.”
“Why?”
“Because Amelia’s birthday is coming up and she wants me to help her shop for presents. She needs my advice, since she hasn’t ever really shopped for girls.”
Gavin wasn’t surprised that Vi had asked, but that Sierra wanted to go. “You sure? She didn’t pressure you into it?”
That comment earned him an eye roll. “Seriously? When have I ever turned down a chance to go shopping?”
“Point taken.”
“Besides, I like Vi. She’s super sweet and her texts are really funny.”
“Wait. You text with Vi?”
“Uh, yeah. How else am I supposed to stay in touch with her? It’s been two weeks since we had ‘the talk’ and I still don’t get to drive anywhere.”
Point out the weather has been shitty. But anything he said would increase her combative attitude today. “Fine. Go. Have fun.”
“Cool. I’ll call her.”
When she left the dining room table, Gavin said, “Forgetting something?”
“God. I can’t do anything right today.” She backtracked and picked up her empty pie plate and stomped to the kitchen.
Gavin yelled, “Put it in the dishwasher, and don’t leave it in the sink.”
That earned him a cupboard door slam.
So naturally he yelled, “And clean up your damn room.”
Rielle exited the swinging kitchen door, holding a plate. “Is it safe to come out?”
“Much safer now that the teen terror is headed to her dungeon.” He eyed the plate. “What’re you having?”
“A hot guy I know made this delicious peach pie. But I’m willing to share.”
He scooted his chair back and patted his thighs. “Sit on my lap.”
“Why?”
“Because I want a taste of you and the pie.”
She straddled him. “You just want me to feed you.”
His dick stirred the instant that delectable body was close to his. “Maybe. Take a bite.”
Rielle sliced off a chunk, popped it into her mouth and chewed. “Not bad, tycoon. You are getting much better at this pie baking stuff. I liked the cherry better. Maybe we should go into business together.” She cut another bite and held the fork to his mouth.
After Gavin swallowed, he took the plate from her. “I’ll feed you. Open wide.”
“You just like saying that.”
“Yep. It’s too bad you didn’t add whipped cream. Because you know how much I like seeing white stuff on your lips.”
She blushed. And smacked him on the shoulder. “Gavin Daniels, you have such a dirty mouth.”
“Mmm-hmm. It goes well with my dirty mind.” He latched onto her butt, pulling her pelvis closer. He traced her full bottom lip with his tongue, then he gently sucked the succulent flesh, tasting the tang of peaches and the sweetness of Rielle. “I want you,” he whispered against her lips.
“I can tell.” She rocked forward into his erection.
“Your room,” he said huskily. “I’ll eat the pie off you and then I’ll eat you.”
“You make me crazy when you put those images in my brain.”
“Good. But I’m still not hearing yes.” Gavin dragged openmouthed kisses down her neck.
“Omigod, seriously?” Sierra complained.
Gavin tried to discreetly remove his hands from Rielle’s ass.
But Sierra wasn’t done stating her opinion. “You guys have two rooms you could be doing that in, not here, where I have to eat.”
“Watch your tone and think very carefully about the next thing that comes out of your mouth,” he warned.
“How is this my fault? I just came back down to get my stupid notebook so I can finish my stupid homework and find you two like… What. Ever.” She snatched her notebook and stomped off.
Rielle scooted back onto his knees. “Well, that was fun.”
“You’d rather we were still sneaking around?”
“No.” She traced the edges of his goatee. “We have to remember to restrict our displays to the bedroom when your daughter is home. But god, when you touch me the flame just ignites.”
“Let’s turn it down to simmer for now.” He kissed her once more and helped her off his lap. “If you hadn’t noticed, getting busted playing grab-ass made my dick deflate. I probably won’t be able to get it up at all tonight.”
“Poor baby. I can give you a hand with that. Later.” Rielle pulled him to his feet. “Let’s go upstairs and watch TV so Sierra doesn’t think we’re going at it in my bedroom.”
“I think there’s a college—”
“No sports.”
“Why not?”
“Because that’s all you watch. And you yell at the TV. Like you yelling at the players or the coaches or the referees will make a difference.”
The woman had no concept of the responsibilities of a sports fan. Loud indignation about lousy calls and shitty plays were his right.
Hopefully she’d fall asleep, like she always did, during one of her blasted cooking shows and he could catch the day’s highlights on ESPN.
He offered her a charming smile. “Whatever you want.”
Sierra burst into the kitchen, shopping bags hanging from both arms. “Dad! You have to see all the totally awesome stuff I got today.”
Vi trailed behind her, smiling.
“Hey, Vi. Looks like you guys had a productive day.”
“We did.”
“You have time for a drink?”
Vi appeared taken aback by Gavin’s question. “What are you drinking?”
“Crown and water.”
“I’ll have one. Light on the Crown since I’m driving.”
Rielle skirted the pile of shopping bags, intending to duck out of the kitchen, but he circled her wrist, stopping her. “Please stay.”
“I don’t want to intrude,” she whispered.
“You’re not. So stay.”
“All right.”
Gavin mixed Vi’s drink and poured a soda for Sierra. “All right, sweetheart, tell me about your day and show me what you got.”
“First, we went to the toy store. There were so many awesome fun toys it was hard to pick one. So I got Amelia a Gloworm because I remembered how much I loved mine.”
That caused a pang. Didn’t seem that long ago Sierra was dragging that dirty, well-loved Gloworm everywhere.
“Then we went shopping for girl clothes at the western store. Omigod the stuff is so cute. You should see the tiny jean skirt with pink leggings and a button-up western shirt with lace edging. And she’s getting matching pink cowgirl boots with rhinestones!”
Sierra was talking enthusiastically about all the things they’d bought…for someone else?
“Which leads me to this.” Sierra flipped the lid off a shoebox, taking out a pair of pink cowgirl books with rhinestones on the toes and dark pink leather decorating the shaft. “Aren’t these the coolest boots you’ve ever seen? I wanted some so bad…” She squealed and leaned over to hug Vi. “Thank you so, so much, Grams, for buying them for me.”
“You’re welcome, dear.”
Gavin went motionless. Since when did Sierra call Vi…Grams?
Since Vi started buying things for her.
“I cannot wait to wear these to school tomorrow. Marin will be so jealous.”
“The bottoms have a slick finish so make sure you scuff them up first,” Vi warned.
“Will do.” Sierra hugged her boots. “It is insane how much I love these things alr
eady.”
Vi laughed.
Sierra tossed the box on the floor and snagged another bag. “Then we went to this boutique called Sweet Repeats that sells the funkiest things. Jewelry, clothes, scarves, jackets.” She grinned. “Check this out.” She held up a black suede jacket with fringe on the underside of each sleeve. “Look at the metal studs on the lapels and down the front. It’s bad-ass, but doesn’t make me look like a thug.”
“And you can wear black with anything,” Vi pointed out.
“I will wear it with everything, I promise. Thank you.”
Vi had bought her a fucking leather coat, too?
Sierra pulled out yet more things Vi had purchased for her.
A pair of jeans with rhinestones on the rear pockets and the front pockets.
A fur-lined vest.
A long-sleeved thermal shirt the same pink as the boots with Cruel Girl emblazoned across the front.
A bag overflowing with bangles and baubles.
“And last, but certainly not least…” Sierra unwrapped a cork bulletin board. She piled two stacks of fabric and two spools of satin ribbon on top of it. “A memory board for my room. We’re gonna fancy it up next week, huh, Grams?”
“Absolutely. As long as it doesn’t interfere with your school work.”
Sierra jammed all her new items back in the bags and hugged Vi. “Thank you so much for today. I had a lot of fun.”
Vi brushed the hair back from Sierra’s face. “I did too. We’ll do it again soon.”
“I hope so. Gotta put my stuff away!” Sierra announced and raced from the room.
Gavin swallowed a gulp of his drink. “Well, that won’t happen again.”
“What?”
“You taking Sierra out and buying her everything she wants.”
“Why is this a problem for you? Because I didn’t ask your permission to buy my granddaughter a few things?” Vi held up a finger to stop his protest. “Yes, Sierra is my granddaughter. You may still have a problem with our family ties, but she doesn’t. Don’t expect her to have your issues with the situation, Gavin.”
“So is it a coincidence, that she started calling you Grams after you bought all that shit for her?” he demanded.
“Sierra has been calling me Grams for months. Never in front of you, because she’s been afraid of how you’d react. Now I see that her fear was justified.”
Gone Country: Rough Riders, Book 14 Page 19