The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) (11 page)

She grinned as
she typed her reply.

Damn right, I am.

It took him no
time to reply.

Well, at least you're
honest. Call you later, Sunshine
.

He called late
that afternoon. "This is Mr. Brooks with Supreme Satisfaction Portfolio Investments.
Is this the lady of the house?" he asked, all sexy voiced. She could
imagine the grin he wore.

"Why, yes.
Yes, indeed, this is the lady of the house."

"Ma'am,
it's come to my attention that you might be in need of some new strategy to, uh
...  
stimulate
your assets
,"
he said, drawing it out.
"I feel I have precisely what you've been looking for. Prime stuff, ma'am.
I'm talkin' something with
hot
possibilities that will
pump deeply
into your accounts until you are thoroughly satisfied."

"Oh, my.
That sounds very
excitin
'. But I'm not very
knowledgeable in this area, kind sir. It might require a few sessions to help
me get a
firm grip
on all this," she said, putting a lot of airy
breath in her voice and
souping
up the Texas twang a
little.

"Hot damn!"
he said, making her giggle, then he cleared his throat and recovered his mien.
"Ahem ... I mean, well, no problem, ma'am. I'm happy to oblige you until
you're thoroughly satisfied."

"Satisfaction
guaranteed, sir?"

"You can
bet your little scrap 'o lace panties on it, Sweet Cheeks."

"The
problem with that, Mr. Brooks, is that, at this moment, I don't seem to be
wearing any panties," she purred.

There was
silence on the other end for a moment. "Caroline, that just delayed your
dinner, darlin'," he said, dropping all pretense. "I was going to ask
if I could take you to dinner, but now there's a big fat problem. I'm not fit
for public perusal right now after thinking about your lack of panties and
obliging you until your satisfaction is guaranteed. I'm not fit but for one
thing right now, darlin'."

"Oh, good.
That's how I like you best," she said.

"Well, all
I can say is it's a darn good thing you like me this way since you elicit such
strong gains in my portfolio."

She laughed in
her throat, something between a chuckle and a moan. "It sounds like this
might take a while. Hope you're not all that hungry."

"Only for
you, babe."

"Good. I'll
meet you in the shower. Sound good?"

"Sounds
perfect. Be there in ten minutes," he said, and she thought she might have
heard him gun it as he was disconnecting.

 

Chapter
Seven

 

Barbara hadn't
been able to let it go, the fact that she'd been on her Single Seniors cruise
during Cara and Greg's shared birthday, and invited the whole family over to her
house for dinner the Wednesday evening after everyone's return home from their
various summer travels. She also invited Etta, and Maddie asked if she could
bring her friend, Bella, since the BFF's had been separated for weeks and had
so much catching up to do. Thus, the evening promised to be a lively one.

Cara had a mixed
bag of expectations regarding the evening. She usually loved these family
gatherings, looked forward to the laughter and teasing of the teenagers, the
inside family jokes that one seemed never able to live down, and the good food,
good wine and familial bonding that cemented them all together. It was as gooey
as a Hallmark holiday commercial on television, and Cara ate that stuff up.

But this time,
she had all sorts of misgivings. It would be the first time she and Greg would
spend any time together with the other family members, namely Cara's children,
who were so finely attuned to their mother's moods and needs until it wasn't
exactly healthy. She wasn't certain she'd be able to hide her feelings for Greg
from her kids. And even if she did manage to pull off the impossible, there was
always Etta to step in and pick it plumb to death, Cara figured. Already, she'd
been gently snooping around, asking Cara leading questions about whether she
and Greg had done the deed yet. For reasons that weren't completely clear, Cara
didn't feel like sharing yet, and had done her best to remain cagey and
noncommittal whenever Etta questioned her. But she'd be all over them tonight,
watching every perceived longing look and happenstance touch and taking it
apart for its deeper meaning. She'd let Cara know she was doing it, too, upping
the stress factor for Cara big time.

Yes, there was
little to look forward to this evening. Well, little except getting to see
Greg. In the past ten days, they'd stolen a grand total of ninety minutes at
his house for a quick nooner one day, and talked on the phone every night
before bed, just wistful and frustrated and longing to be together. And Greg
was already putting subtle pressure on Cara to let everyone in on their
relationship status. Very subtle, but there, nonetheless. Cara knew it was
bound to be a high-strung evening at Barbara's tonight.

And it was.

For starters,
Greg came in wearing those soft, faded, thigh-hugging, lust-inducing jeans Cara
loved so much, and it made her want to say, "Excuse us, everyone, for a
moment while I take Uncle Greg into the bathroom for a quickie." The
thought made her smile a secret little smile that garnered a hawkish and suspicious
look from Etta and a very interested almost grin from Greg across the room, the
devil. He knew good and well what those jeans did to her. Her kids, at least,
seemed oblivious to it all.

They shared
stories during dinner, telling about their interesting travel experiences of
the summer. Barbara had indeed met a man from Houston while on her cruise, and
they were communicating via email and getting to know one another a little
better.

"So you met
your 'Hottie' after all, didn't you, Nana?" Maddie teased her grandmother.

"You bet I
did. Told you I was going to try," Barbara replied, making all the
teenagers do that giggling groan thing.

"I think
Mom oughta go on one of those cruises. Maybe she'd get herself a
boyfriend," Maddie said, but didn't dare to look up from the dinner roll
she was eating with her fingers.

Suddenly all
eyes were on Cara, and she stopped chewing ... sat stone still, her wide-eyed
gaze going round the table to find them all waiting for her response. She
rolled her eyes dismissively. "And what would I do with a boyfriend?"
she asked, scoffing at them.

Etta rolled her
own dark brown eyes. "Girl, you ain't been a widow that long. Surely you
ain't forgot."

Greg found that
amusing across the table, if his stifled grin was any indication, but he
shoveled in another mouthful of mashed potatoes and kept his eyes downcast.

"Oh, I can
assure you, it comes back to you rather quickly, even if you have
forgotten," Barbara said ever so matter-of-factly. It took them all about
five seconds to register that she'd actually said it, and they began laughing
hysterically. Greg had a hard time swallowing the mashed potatoes, and Ryan
fell right out of his chair onto the dining room parquet floor in paroxysms of
laughter.

"Well, of
course, I don't mean
that
thing. Just flirting and stuff, you
know," Barbara clarified. She actually blushed, not having meant to say
something of that nature, especially in front of her grandchildren and guests,
but it was out, and there was no taking it back. Slowly, the laughter began to
subside, everyone breathing hard and holding their stomachs. Ryan finally found
the strength of climb back into his chair.

"Well,
well, well, Nana ... you are just full of surprises lately," Ryan told
her.

"I can see
that you all think so, but I'll thank you to remember that, while I may be old,
I am not yet dead," she said, her nose a smidge out of joint at being the
butt of their joke.

"Yeah,
somebody else ought to remember that, too," Etta said, and cut her eyes at
Cara.

"Yeah, Mom
... you need to find yourself a boyfriend," Maddie said.

"Shut up,
Mad," Ryan said, losing all signs of his earlier amusement. In fact, his
tone was bordering on surly.

Maddie looked
surprised at his rudeness. "What's your problem, Ryan?" she asked.

"I don't
have a problem. But you're always sayin' stuff like that to Mom. If she wants a
man in her life, she'll get one. Quit pushin'," he said, then seemed
resigned. "Besides, I think she already has one."

"Really?"
Maddie asked, looking back and forth between her brother and mother.

All heads
snapped back to look at Cara again, and she truly felt like a bug under a
microscope.

"What makes
you say that, Ryan?" Cara asked, deflecting.

Ryan cocked an
eyebrow and shrugged lightly, mixing arrogance and miffed really well in his
expression. "You've been in a pretty good mood all summer and you're
always wearing makeup and fixing your hair." He shrugged again. "And
I hear you talking real low on the phone every night."

"Are you
eavesdropping on me?" she asked, indignant with the thought.

He frowned at
her, as only teenagers can do at their embarrassing parents. "Um, your
room is right below mine. Can't help but hear you talking," he said, as if
she might be dense.

"It doesn't
mean you have to listen," Cara said, employing the exact same tone.

"I can't
make out what you're saying, only that you're talking. And giggling a lot.
Seems suspicious to me."

The room grew
awkwardly quiet.

No one said a
word.

The grandfather
clock in the foyer sounded the half-hour with an inordinately loud gong.

"Well, are
you going to tell?" Greg asked.

Cara's head
snapped up so fast she went dizzy, and she pinned a fierce look on him across
the table. "Tell what?" she asked through gritted teeth, hoping
beyond all else he wouldn't choose this moment to unleash on the family.

"Yeah.
We're all dying to know, Mom," Maddie said. "Tell us."

Cara attempted
to slow her furiously beating heart. She laughed lightly and moved some food
around on her plate with her fork. "There's nothing to tell, you
guys."

Maddie looked
unconvinced. "Uncle Greg seems to think there is."

Cara sent him
another reproving look across the way. "Uncle Greg is teasing me."

"Mmm
huh," Etta murmured, and wiped her mouth with her napkin, then folded it
just so and laid it on the table. "That's what I thought," she said,
but Cara knew that was not at all what Etta was thinking.

Greg got up and
took his plate into the kitchen, and it seemed to break the mood of inquisition.
Cara was exceedingly thankful to be out from under the microscope. She hadn't
any idea what to expect of Greg after the exchange. It was his manner to be
honest and above board about things. Too much trouble to hide stuff, he would
probably tell her. And that would probably be true. But for now, she felt like
she'd dodged a bullet. And she now knew that her kids were even more perceptive
than she'd given them credit for being. She sighed and took her own plate to
the kitchen.

Greg was
scraping and rinsing plates before loading them into the dishwasher. She
offered him her plate but didn't let go of it when he would have taken it from
her. It forced him to look at her, and she suddenly wished he hadn't. There was
too, too much in those handsome green eyes looking back at her, and a lot of it
was painful to see.

"It wasn't
the right time, Greg," she said.

"It was a
perfect opening," he argued, his expression full of irritation and
impatience.

She sighed again
and went back into the dining room to retrieve more dishes. The others were
filtering into the kitchen as well, so nothing more was said, but she felt his
mood deteriorating, and it made her heart hurt. Already this was growing too
deceitful for her comfort level. And yet, she couldn't think of breaking things
off with him.

The kids
prepared to leave in Maddie's car as soon as they'd devoured Nana's delicious
homemade birthday cake. They planned to take advantage of the last days of
summer vacation to see a late movie. "I might spend the night at Connor's
tonight, Mom," Ryan called as they made for the door. "He's meeting
us at the movies."

"
'Might'
is not a plan, Ryan. Call or text after the movie to let me know for
certain," Cara told him in her serious momma voice.

"Yeah, yeah
... I got it," he said, as if he'd heard it far too frequently, then
followed the girls out the front door.

Etta laughed at
the exchange between mother and son. "Lawd, but that is a hot mess of
unspent energy and hormones gettin' in that car. How you sleep at night, baby?"
she asked Cara.

"With one
eye open, I assure you," Cara said. "I probably won't ever sleep
again when he starts driving. It was bad enough when Maddie got her license.
But add a heaping dose of testosterone, and my sleeping days are over as soon
as Ryan gets his."

"Gotta let
them grow up sometime, Caroline," Greg said, and she had the feeling he
wasn't talking about driving, but he didn't bother to look at her, so it was
hard to be certain. He sat across the room, petulant and angry, one knee
sprawled wide across the upholstered arm of the chair, and he reminded her of
Ryan in one of his moods.

"I'm doing
my best to keep them
alive
, Gregory," she said, sounding a little
more snippy than she intended, but his veiled innuendo was about to piss her
right off.

"They might
surprise you with their maturity, given half a chance," he said, and
finally deigned to look at her. It wasn't good, that look he gave her. Fueled
by two weeks of sexual frustration and her refusal to tell the truth about
their relationship, his anger was simmering right under the surface in a slow
boil. Cara read it quite easily now, but there was more, as well. Hurt?
Distrust? She couldn't say, and even as she studied him across the room, he
began to shutter his emotion.

"Oh, and
suddenly you're the parenting authority?"  It was a low blow, she
knew, but he'd pushed her buttons once too often tonight.

Etta got up from
the sofa. "Well, y'all can stay and duke it out, but I'm taking my behind
to the house. Got to get my full eight, you know what I'm sayin'?" Cara
recognized she was trying to break the mood, and while the effort was
appreciated, it was futile at this point.

"Sure,
Etta. Thanks for coming," Barbara told her, rising to see her out.

Cara didn't
bother to get up, too distracted by anger to attend to the niceties.
"Night, Etta. Thanks for coming. See you tomorrow," she called
half-heartedly.

"Night,
baby." Etta and Barbara walked to the foyer and out into the evening,
Barbara lingering on the front porch while Etta took her leave.

Cara glowered at
Greg for a moment, and he finally felt the burn and raised his head to look her
in the eye.

"I don't
appreciate you trying to have a veiled argument with me in front of Etta and
your mother, Greg."

"I don't
appreciate you denying our relationship in front of our whole damn
family," he said.

"I didn't
deny a relationship with
you
specifically," she said, affronted,
her hands on her hips, and was ready to defend that weak argument when Barbara
returned, closing the front door behind her, and nattering on about something
funny Etta said on her way out the door. She stopped suddenly, astutely
recognizing the confrontation going on in her den. "Excuse me," she
said, surprised by the depth of emotion rippling on the undercurrent.  She
raised her brows warily and made her way to the kitchen, practically tiptoeing
all the way there.

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