Devastate (Havoc Series Stand Alone Book 5) (10 page)

              “Who's Luke Bryan?” Glove ponders. “Is he hot? Is he as a hot as me?”

              “Bless your heart,” Pa sighs shaking his head at him.

              “And the girl in the car is Grim's wife, Haven.” I turn my questions to them. “Not that I'm not happy to see your ugly mugs out in these parts, but what the hell are you doing here?”

              Grim starts, “We--”

              “Marines,” Jazz's voice cuts him off.

              “Ma'am,” they greet her in tandem.

              “Respectful.” Pa beams proudly. “Rascal, I'm glad they're here. Help them get settled and ready for dinner will ya? Ma's gonna be so excited to have company for dinner.” He grabs his shotgun and heads towards the house. “But if the pretty one makes a move on my wife, I won't hesitate to shoot him.”

              The screen door shuts and Glove immediately asks, “Why would I make a move on your mother bro'? Is she hot?” Before I can answer he quickly says, “You're parents are old by the way.”

              “That's his grandfather genius,” Jazz retorts an exhausted tone in her voice already.

              “Phew,” Glove exaggerates the word. “I was gonna say...Bro...you were the
ultimate
accident.”

              “Two hours of this bullshit on the drive here.” Grim points to him. “Two. I almost left his fucking body in a field for crows to peck his eyes out.”

              “But Haven loves me.” Glove shrugs. “And her best friend is
in love
with me. So I'm pretty much set.”

              Grim goes to snap when Jazz interrupts, “Why is Haven here?”

              His face twitches and a familiar anger I'm used to seeing pours out of him. “It's complicated.”

              “He's over protective.”

              “Shut it,” Grim growls.

              “Look,” I speak up. “No blood shed on my grandparent’s front porch all right? We make it through dinner then you tell me why you're here, why she's here, and most importantly did you get Mandy's named tatted on you?”

              “That's most important?” Jazz jeers from next to me.

              Glove chuckles and extends his fist for me to bump. “Missed you bro.”

              I extend one for Grim to bump and he sighs, exasperated, “Why do you encourage him?”

              With a laugh I wave at Haven who pops out of the truck and rushes over tossing her curvy mocha frame into my arms. “Lordy!”

              I give her a good squeeze, the sound of Grim growling again having me pull back quickly. “You missed me too?”

              “Of course!” she exclaims loudly. “They need you.”

              “As a bumper?” I question.

              “A bumper. A filter.” Haven glares over her shoulder at Grim. “A voice of reason.”

              “Haven--”

              “Nope.” She raises her hand at him. “I don't wanna talk to you.”

              “It's been a
fun
car ride,” Glove sighs deeply.

              Grim grumps, “Tell me about it.”

              Curious about the tension, but knowing better than to start an argument for them right now I keep my original plan of simply postponing it until after dinner. “Why don't we show y'all the guestrooms? Help you get settled before dinner.”

              “Yeah um...” Glove points to the house behind me. “I thought you lived in a house with one window and chickens for pets. You know. Ultimate farm town shit.”

              Jazz tilts her head at him as Haven wraps her arms around mine. “Why...why...” The rest of the sentence seems to fail. “Just...why?”

              “I don't know. He never mentioned much. I went off of well acted country movies.”

              Weary I ask, “Well acted?”

              “You never objected!” He nods his head at the house. “Are you gonna explain this?”

              “Dinner,” I bluntly respond. “Come on. Let's show you where you'll be stayin' for the night or nights or....”

              “Just go,” Jazz insists. With a slightly jealous look, she's trying to bury, she asks Haven. “Do you need me to talk to Grim?”

              “Talk to him. Yell at him. Anything because he isn't listening to me,” her sigh is followed with a sniffle.

              The sound seems to dial back the resentment in my girl, but I smile at the sentiment anyway. Love how quick she is to stake her claim. First with Mary Beth. Now with Haven. Just the brief flash that she cares that much lets me know she's right. We're gonna be just fine.

**

              After getting them settled in rooms close to our side of the house, Jazz and I dismiss ourselves to shower up, in which I introduce her to the convenience of shower sex, before going another round in the sack under the challenge of making as little noise as possible. Once we're both momentarily sated, we get dressed. We both know if the guys are here, it's not a good thing, and the likeliness of sex being an option after this moment isn't something we should bother trying to fathom.

              Downstairs I sit at the dining room table with Glove, Grim, and Pa, while Haven and Jazz help Ma bring the dishes in. Pa makes conversation with my brothers about their backgrounds and inquires about their families. Once everything is set and prayer is said, we dig in, with the conversation rolling over random topics setting the scene for what I always wished family dinners would be like growing up. Brothers who aren't disgusted by my presence in the same room. Brothers who don't feel every conversation should be about money whether it's how to make more of it or why they aren't getting enough. I joyfully watch as Ma scolds Glove for smacking on his fried chicken, his elbows on the table, and to remember to use his napkin, all with a smile. From the loving look on her face it's clear she's already adopted him as a grandson.

              “Rascal, pass me those taters.” Pa points.

              As I reach for them Glove ponders, “Why do you call him Rascal?”

              Ma responds, “Always have. Born with a playful, troubled gleam in his eye. Besides, what do you call a boy who eats an entire bowl of cobbler for breakfast when he thinks no one is lookin'?”

              The table chuckles and I shrug. “I was five. Besides it was good!”

              “Is that the recipe you gave me for my birthday?” Haven asks from her place across from Jazz.

              “Yep.”

              “It's a family recipe,” Ma says.  “So don't you go sharin' that with anyone else. Understand me?”

              “Yes ma'am.” She offers her a smile.

              “You're family, so I'm not too worried. Besides, now that you're pregnant there are some other recipes that you're gonna want floatin' around,” Ma comments and my fork drops at the same time Jazz's mouth does.

              “What?!” The two of us shout in unison.

              “Have you two lost your damn minds,” Pa fusses. “Lower your voices.”

              “Sorry Pa,” I apologize.

              “You're pregnant?” Jazz snips.

              Haven's jaw bobs before she meekly nods.

              “How'd you know that?” Jazz turns to Ma. “I mean...you just met her.”

              “Oh sugar, don't be ridiculous. I have been around plenty of pregnant women. It doesn't take much to recognize it when you know the signs,” Ma explains as I shift my eyes to Grim who is staring down at his plate.

              Carefully I inquire, “If she's pregnant, why do you both look so miserable?”

              “Good question,” Ma agrees. “Babies are a happy thing! A blessing! Bringing life into this world is a blessing.”

              Grim shakes his head slowly, but doesn't say anything.

              “You worried about one more mouth to feed?” Pa smacks much like Glove. “Because if that's the case put that to rest. You two are family. You were family before you walked through that door. From everything Rascal's told us, feels like we've always known ya. We take care of family. Never have to worry about that kind of thing.”

              The speech convinces Haven's face to smile briefly. “No sir. We're okay there. But thank you....that's...so sweet.”

              “One more person to protect,” Jazz answers pushing her plate away from her. “That's what the problem is.”

              When Grim's eyes lift to hers, I know she's hit the nail on the head. “And knowing Grim's natural reaction to things, it wasn't a thrilled response. He most likely over reacted, said something he shouldn't have and turned an already scared female even more so.” His jaw starts twitching, but unlike the rest of us who know that's when to back down Jazz doesn't believe in boundaries like that in regards to us. “Which is why she's here isn't it? You don't want her out of your sight. No more than she has to be. Am I right?”

              He doesn't answer.

              “Grim.”

              “I don't wanna talk about it anymore.” He drops his fork on the table, the tension match between them escalating.

              “So you're like Lord of the peaches.” Glove moves the conversation. Chuckling at his own joke he emphasizes, “Ya know, 'cause your last name is Lord.”

              “Bless his heart.” Ma shakes her head.

              “What's wrong with my heart?” He has another bite of whipped garlic potatoes. “Do you know something I don't? Can you tell that too? Are you like a fortune teller too?”

              The laughter that erupts burns away some of the animosity, but not enough. Pa stays on the topic change while keeping a distant eye on Grim and Jazz. “Best peaches in the country Glove. Wait 'til you taste dessert. You'll see what I mean.”

              “Man Lordy, I can't believe you didn't tell us you had an entire empire of peaches!” Glove licks his finger and pushes his plate away. “That's the kind of shit you share.”

              “Because you needed more ammo to pick on me?”

              “Need? No. Want. Always. Just imagine the number of jokes that could've been made before now,” Glove laughs leaning back in his seat. “Better yet, think of all the one's we're gonna make now.”

              “Awesome...” I groan.

              “I never asked Jazz, but why do y'all call him Lordy?” Pa questions. “His last name is just Lord.”

              “Right.” Glove leans forward. “But he says this thing when he shoots...” Glancing at Grim they nod in agreement.

              In unison they call out, “Good lordy! Good lordy! Did you see...that shot!”

              Pa tosses his head back laughing before leaning over to give me a good pat on the back. “That's my boy!”

              Ma huffs from the other end of the table, “Jody's been saying that since before Rascal was born. Glad he took something with him when he left.”

              “It's his trademark,” Grim answers her. “If it's something Pa says, my guess is it's his ode to him since he's been gone. The subtle way of keeping his family ties.”

              “I like that,” Ma coos at Grim before turning to me shoot me a loving look. “I'm gonna grab dessert.”

              “I'll help clear plates,” Haven volunteers.

              “No. No. You stay put little lady. I can tell you haven't been eating enough already and over working by the discomfort in your lower back.”

              Shock paints her face, “How--”

              “I'm an old woman, Haven. Not my first rodeo.” She stands reaching for Glove's plate that he's damn near licked clean. “Y'all relax and enjoy each other's company. I'll holla' for Rascal or Jazz if I need any help.”

              “Jazz in the kitchen?” Glove's confusion is to be expected. “I don't think I've ever thought about that. I just assumed she lived at work, so she didn't know what a kitchen was.”

              “You're an idiot,” Jazz snaps.

              “We'll that's not a debate,” Pa inserts making the table laugh again. “He may be an idiot, but his hearts in the right place. Just like Grim may be a little coarse, but his intentions are good. He loves that girl something fierce and the thought of lovin' somethin' else just as fierce probably frightens the shit out of him.” For a second Grim glances over at Haven with a plea in his eyes. “Y'all gotta remember that about good folks. Often, they make choices with the right purpose and pure hearts. The situations just aren't ideal...” His eyes land on me. “No matter what happens in life, don't forget that, Rascal.”

              “Yes sir.” I nod as Ma strolls back in with peaches and cream bars for us to enjoy.               However as everyone else lets their attention wander to Ma and her speech on why peaches are the most delicious thing a person can put in their dessert, my eyes stay plastered on Pa. On his fading smile. The spark weakening from his eyes more and more every day. Something is not right. I just don't know what it is. And whatever it is, I know we can survive it. We have to. He has too.