The Grand Opening

by Ava Miles

  “Don’t bother,” she said and yanked her arm free.

  Her feet ate up the floor as she walked out. Dustin was waiting for her, a penitent look on his face. She said nothing, and neither did he. Rhett was right. He was a teenager, and to ask him not to look at cleavage was silly. She’d talk to Mac about it and let him handle it. They’d agreed he would deal with that kind of stuff anyway.

  As they drove to Peggy’s house, she kept her eyes trained on the road, trying to keep out all emotion. She’d cried over this situation before, and she wasn’t doing it again. Rhett was not going to affect her anymore.

  When they pulled into Peggy’s driveway and left the car, Abbie surveyed the flower arrangement in her hands before plucking out a blue daisy and shoving it on the right side to give the bouquet balance.

  “Mom, relax,” Dustin finally commented. “They look fine.”

  Fine wasn’t good enough. This she had to at least get right. She rang the doorbell of Peggy’s house. Tapped her foot.

  The door opened. Peggy’s eyes narrowed as she scanned their group, probably looking for Mac.

  “Hey, Ms. McBride,” Dustin said. “I’m not here to work. Not that I don’t like that, but my mom wanted to give you some flowers and invite you to our house for dinner.”

  Her son had stolen her lines, or maybe he was trying to help her out since he knew she was upset about Rhett. Watching Peggy’s jaw tense made her want to reach for her antacids.

  “Here,” she said, thrusting out the flowers.

  Peggy eyed them like they might be infected with powdery mildew and didn’t take them.

  “Is Keith home?” Dustin asked.

  “Yeah, he’s inside, watching TV.”

  “Cool, I’ll go hang with him if that’s okay.”

  Dustin was probably eager to get away from her, Abbie realized.

  “I told him I’d teach him how to dribble a soccer ball.”

  The corners of Peggy’s mouth tilted up in a reluctant smile. “That’s nice of you. He’s really excited.”

  Her son kicked at the ground with his ever–growing feet. “He’s a fun kid.”

  Peggy stepped back to let him walk by her. The flowers fell to Abbie’s side, and the daisy dropped to the ground. She darted forward to pick it up and almost nailed Peggy in the head when she did the same.

  “Whoa!” Peggy called, pushing out a hand to prevent the collision.

  Abbie teetered on her heels before steadying herself and rising. “Dustin said you probably don’t like flowers. I’m sorry. I didn’t know what else to bring.”

  The plastic wrapping crackled when Peggy finally took the bouquet from her. “It was…nice of you.”

  The woman would have flunked any etiquette class with that whopper.

  An awkward silence descended.

  “So, you’re probably wondering why I’m here.” The dinner invitation needed more of an explanation.

  The woman didn’t say a word. Is that why Mac liked her? God knows she and Dustin always had something to say.

  “Mac said he told you about the bomb threat.” Her stomach churned at the very thought. “He said you’d keep it to yourself.” Please God.

  Peggy’s mouth twisted like she’d eaten a sourball.

  “I wanted to thank you. Dustin means everything to me, and this whole incident has been…crazier than I ever imagined. He did the right thing by telling us, and Mac handled the situation with Dustin’s former friend. Trust me, Mac’s a strict disciplinarian.” She didn’t add anything about herself. Peggy wasn’t “dating” her.

  Peggy’s grip on the bouquet was crushing the yellow Gerbera daisies. Abbie wished she’d give them some room.

  The woman still didn’t speak. Well, maybe Abbie could shock her into having a conversation. “I know we don’t know each other well, but my brother is in love with you.”

  No reaction. Great. Her poker face was as award–winning as Mac’s.

  “We all adore Keith,” she continued. “You’ve done an incredible job with him, and I know how hard that is. You’ve been more than fair to Dustin after the car incident.” She took a deep breath, pressing on her burning diaphragm. “I’d like you to come to dinner tonight at our house so I can get to know you better.”

  Peggy’s left eye twitched. Aha. So she wasn’t inhuman.

  “It’s only a simple dinner. Dustin would love it. Mac would too, although he wanted you to know this was my idea.”

  “I just got home from work,” Peggy finally responded.

  The refusal couldn’t be plainer, but Abbie had persuasive skills of her own.

  “All the more reason to be spontaneous and let someone else cook. Everything’s mostly in place. Mac’s going to grill steaks. Please come.” She looked down at her open–toe buttercup sandals. “My brother means the world to me. He’s sacrificed a lot to support us. You’re the first person he’s shown any serious interest in, and as his sister, I’d like to get to know you.”

  “Why? You don’t want it to last.”

  Well, when the woman finally decided to talk, she could be downright bitchy.

  Abbie met her hard gaze even though her heart was pounding. “As Mac pointed out, he has his own life to lead. I want him to be happy. Since you seem to make him that way, I trust his judgment. He’s had more time to come to a positive conclusion about you. I’m asking you to give us both time to develop a conclusion about each other.”

  Peggy’s death–grip on the bouquet loosened. The daisies were probably cheering over the extra space. “You didn’t say positive.”

  Her mouth tilted up. “No, I didn’t. But I’m willing to try. Are you?”

  “Mom!” Keith yelled out like a banshee. His shoes pounded across the floor, and then he catapulted through the door, Dustin trailing in his wake.

  “Dustin said we’re invited to their house for dinner tonight. Can we please, please, please go? I want to see all his soccer trophies and everything.”

  “Gosh, a triple please,” Peggy drawled. The flower wrapping crackled again as her hand clenched into a fist.

  Abbie took note of her white knuckles. So, she wasn’t too different from Mac and his poker players—just because she hid her emotions didn’t mean she didn’t have any. She thought about Rhett saying he and Mac had recognized each other. Perhaps that was how it was with Peggy and him. And then she realized she was thinking about Rhett, which so had to stop.

  “Okay, we can go,” Peggy finally said.

  Abbie wasn’t sure even Martha Stewart had any advice for hosting a reluctant guest. She’d have to check on her smart phone.

  Keith lunged into the air and gave Dustin a high five. “Awesome! Can I wear this?”

  “Sure, man. I’m wearing what I have on.” Dustin cast a pleading glance at her. “Please tell me you aren’t making this stuffy.”

  “Not at all. What everyone’s wearing is fine.” She nodded to Peggy’s jean shorts and gray T–shirt. God, she hoped her face didn’t show any disdain. What mother wore jean shorts?

  “Great! We’ll see you then,” Keith popped out like a little gentleman.

  Young kids always made her feel better. Abbie tapped him playfully on the nose. “I have something special for you for dessert.”

  “You do?” His eyes widened.

  “It’s only for special boys.”

  “Means I’m out,” Dustin murmured.

  Well, he knew he was on the rocks, but she still loved him.

  “No, it doesn’t. You just have to mind your Ps and Qs.” Since he knew what she meant, she stared him down before turning back to Peggy. “How about seven?”

  “Fine. Do you need us to bring anything?”

  She waved a hand, back in control. “No, I’ve taken care of everything. Do you need directions?” she asked, her secret way of discovering if Mac had brought her to the house when they were gone.

  Her gaze flicked up. “Yes. Thank you.”

  Yeah, Peggy had read her mind. It was good to know Mac
hadn’t gone that far. He’d never snuck a woman into their house before.

  She wrote down the address on one of the butterfly sticky notes from her purse. Peggy gave it the stink eye like she had the flowers, but tucked it into her pocket.

  “See you then.”

  “Mom! Can I go with Dustin now? I have lots to learn about dribbling.”

  Peggy gave him the Mother Warning Glare.

  “Of course you can come now if it’s okay with your mom,” Abbie interjected. “Right, Dustin?”

  “Sure, man. With those scrawny legs, it’s gonna take you a while to learn.” He gave his shoulder a little shove like he was a big–boy. Keith beamed.

  Yeah, her son still had a ribbon of sweetness in him. Thank God.

  “There’s nothing wrong with your legs, Keith. Don’t let Dustin tease you. He called me a lemon drop this morning,” Abbie said, not wanting his feelings hurt.

  Keith smiled shyly. “I like your dress. It looks pretty.”

  She kissed his forehead. “You’re such a sweet boy.”

  “Can I go, mom? I’ll be super good. I promise.”

  “Okay, you can go. But be sure to mind everyone.”

  He nodded and then raced over to the corner to pull on his neatly organized shoes. Her Organized Mother Gene cooed. They both liked order. Something to build on.

  “We’ll see you soon then.”

  “See ya later, Mom.” Keith waved and tugged Abbie down the sidewalk.

  As Abbie drove home, she couldn’t stop thinking about the awkward dinner invitation. How in the world was she supposed to become friends with a woman who barely spoke? Worse, what in the world did Mac see in Peggy?

  It would probably mystify people in the same way her entanglement with Rhett would.

  Another reason why things could not go on with him.

  Chapter 35

  After a frantic call to Brian asking for a wine recommendation, Peggy darted to the liquor store on the way to Mac’s house.

  Mac’s house.

  Give her a straightjacket now, since she’d plumb lost her mind, she thought, as she walked up the path leading to the colossal mountain McMansion of stone, native wood, and rustic charm. He had to be kidding. There must be a maid lurking around here someplace.

  She knocked on the door, taking in the enormous brass knocker that resembled a gigantic brass wiener. Who designed this stuff?

  Mac opened the door with flourish. “Hi there,” he murmured, his voice all whiskey and spice. No wonder she’d gone crazy. His voice had made her drunk.

  “Your house is huge,” she blurted out.

  “Actually, it’s about the same size as Tanner and Meredith’s.”

  Her observational skills clearly weren’t firing since it looked much bigger. “Get out.”

  “It’s true. You can ask him.”

  “Tanner’s been here?” she asked, hearing Keith’s laughter in the background. Why was she surprised? Probably because he hadn’t mentioned it—not that he would.

  “Sure. He’s a friend of mine. That’s a nice label.”

  “What?” Was her tag out? She’d changed into black pants, a white shirt, and a tan jacket after seeing Abbie’s yellow sundress.

  His laugh huffed out. “The wine, Peg.”

  She held out the pricy bottle. “I asked Brian. I don’t have a clue about wine. Honestly, I can take it or leave it.”

  “No matter. It’s nice of you to go to the trouble. Besides I bought a special beer for you.” A devilish gleam entered those stoplight green eyes. “You wouldn’t slug me if I kissed you? All the prying eyes are in the kitchen, and I’m not sure I can make it through the evening without touching you.”

  Damn, that was hot.

  He leaned forward, inch by slow inch. She watched him the whole way. When his lips settled on hers, her fingers tunneled through his thick hair. Who was she kidding? She wouldn’t be able to make it through this insane evening without touching him.

  His hand cradled her face when he pulled back. “I’m so glad you’re here, Peg.”

  “Mom!” Keith yelled.

  She jumped and stepped on Mac’s foot. “Sorry. Coming, Keith.”

  Mac gave her another quick peck.

  Her elbow connected with his rib. “Enough!”

  “Don’t look so guilty. Come on. Let me get you a drink so you can get settled.”

  Like that was going to happen. She pressed a hand to her Mexican–jumping–beans stomach.

  The house’s interior boggled her mind, all caramel–colored wood and sweeping arches. Like Tanner’s, an enormous boulder–like fireplace punctuated the family room from floor to ceiling. The kitchen could have been on some ritzy version of Top Chef. The appliances sparkled, the granite gleamed.

  Keith careened into her legs. “Mom. Isn’t this place the coolest? Dustin showed me his trophies, and he’s got like a million.” He pressed a hand to his head. “Mr. Maven let me light the grill, and Abbie let me add the key ingredients to the salad, but I can’t tell you what they are. It’s a secret. Like the dessert, but you’re gonna love it.”

  She scanned the others as Keith continued to summarize his exploits. Dustin was slicing red peppers on a cutting board as Abbie ground some powder in a mortar and pestle like an apothecary. Mac watched her as he uncapped a beer. When he brought it over, he made sure their fingers brushed. The label made her laugh.

  “Parking Violation?”

  “They don’t make it anymore, but I managed to find a few bottles. I thought you’d appreciate the irony.”

  The sweetness of the gesture blew her away.

  “I know I do,” Dustin replied sarcastically.

  “Be good to keep that in mind then,” Abbie added, handing him a yellow pepper. “Keith, do you want to make some kebobs with me?”

  “Sure thing, Abbie.” He held out his arms to her.

  Abbie plopped him down on the counter and showed him a skewer. “Now take a vegetable and—”

  “Shove it,” Dustin finished.

  “Dustin, ” Mac warned.

  Keith giggled. “Mom knows how to tell people where to shove it.”

  Usually she prided herself on that, but…

  “Keith McBride. Where in the world did you hear that?”

  “Jill told me, Mom.” He turned to Dustin. “You can’t get into trouble when someone else says it.”

  The little stinker.

  A pepper disappeared in Dustin’s mouth. “We need that rule around here.”

  “Peg, why don’t I show you around?” Mac said. “Keith’s already had the tour.”

  “Yeah, Mom! It’s sweet.”

  She squeezed the neck of her beer, feeling terribly out of place. She didn’t know how to socialize like this. Heck, she didn’t know how to socialize period.

  The doorbell rang. Great, who else was joining this freak show?

  “You didn’t tell a friend to swing by without talking to me, did you, Dustin?” Abbie asked.

  “Nope. I’m in enough trouble already.”

  “I’m happy to hear it’s finally sunk in,” Mac replied, amused. “I asked Rhett over. We have plenty of food, and I don’t like the thought of him being stuck alone in that big old house.”

  Abbie’s gaze could have sliced and seared the orange pepper in her hand.

  “Cool!” Dustin called, racing to the door.

  “I like Rhett,” Keith added. “He gives me piggy–backs.”

  Her mouth parted in surprise. When had that happened?

  “Who’s talking about piggy–backs?” the Cowboy–on–Crack said when he sauntered into the kitchen.

  “I was!” Keith jumped down and raced over. “Can I have one now?”

  Peggy crossed her arms. “Mr. Blaylock just arrived. Let’s not bother him.”

  “Well, now. If it’s not our fine deputy sheriff. Ma’am.”

  He didn’t look like a lunatic cowboy tonight. He was wearing blue jeans, a starched white dress shirt, and simple black cowboy
boots. Without the hat, he looked…normal. She hadn’t seen him since the poker game. What had happened? Then she caught sight of Abbie’s body language. She shoved a pepper on a skewer, missed, and cried out as she stabbed her finger. Ah, so there was something there.

  Rhett raced over to her side and grabbed her hand. “Did you hurt yourself?”

  Her black hair swayed when she nodded. “I’m fine.”

  “No, let me see.”

  He lifted her finger. Even from across the room, Peggy could see the blood.

  “Oh, that’s so gross,” Dustin interjected.

  Rhett took a paper towel, dampened it, and gently wrapped it around her middle finger. Then he kissed it. “See. All better now.”

  Abbie eased her hand out of Rhett’s hold, her body stiff and wary. “Thank you. I’m fine. Really.”

  “No, you aren’t, and we both know why. This will just make it easier for me to see when you’re giving me the bird when you get upset with me.” He gave a naughty wink. “You know there are times when you want to, Abs. Like today.”

  The eye roll she gave Rhett only made him laugh.

  “What happened today?” Mac asked.

  “I’ll tell you later,” Abbie said and shot both Rhett and Dustin a look. “We have guests.”

  Keith walked over and hugged Abbie. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine,” she said with a sniff, reaching for the kebobs. The paper towel unraveled from her finger.

  Peggy stepped forward. The scene bordered on pathetic. “Here, let me help. Why don’t you go sit down?”

  “No, I invited you. The boys can do it while I supervise.”

  Rhett nudged her across the kitchen to the farmer’s table in the corner. “I know you like hosting, but you’ve got a boo–boo. I brought your favorite wine to cheer you up. Let me pour you a drink. Mac, where’s your corkscrew?”

  “But I already have a glass,” Abbie protested, which Rhett ignored.

  Mac shook his head and walked over to help his friend. Peggy ran the situation over in her mind. Rhett was clearly in love with Abbie. He’d probably rented the house Peg and Mac used for their pied–à–terre to stay close to her. And he was no longer dressing like a crazy cowboy to make Abbie more comfortable. She sipped her beer to cover her shock.