The Perfect Stroke (18 page)

“You don’t want to get out without your stuff? Heaven knows what this idiot would do with it.”

“Listen, Ida Sue…” the cabbie starts.

“I’m not staying,” I argue with her.

“Then don’t.” She shrugs. “But you came a long way to chicken out.”

“I’m not chickening out,” I totally lie.

“So you were just… what? Shooting the breeze in the cab? We eat dinner in an hour and I’ve got a roast that needs my attention, so are you getting out, or staying in?”

“Lady!” The cabbie growls, but I ignore him. Instead, I’m looking at the challenge shining in Grayson’s mom’s eyes. I toss money at the cabbie, secretly enjoying how the money falls apart and scatters over the front of the seat. He’s annoying. Then, I give up my overnight bag to Grayson’s mom and, once she’s standing outside, I slide out and follow her. We don’t talk as we walk up the driveway and I feel weird. I feel like I should come up with something to say, but for the life of me I can’t think of anything. Instead, I take in the large white farmhouse, the chickens running free, the three cats lying lazily on the front porch. It’s all completely different from anything I could have pictured Grayson growing up in, even after all his tales about his family. The strangest thing is watching a baby cow waddle over to the woman and wait for her to pet him.
Wow.

“Did you really name your sons after crayons?” I blurt out.

The woman turns around to look at me with a half-smile. “The world needs bright colors to make it more interesting,” she reasons, and I can’t really argue, even though it seems like the answer has nothing to do with my question.

“And apparently flowers,” I mumble, annoyed when she shakes her head and turns away from me.

She looks over her shoulder. “You’re a spicy little thing, aren’t you?” she says, laughing. “I think I’ll like you just fine for my boy.”

“I’m not with your boy.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I’m here to give him a piece of my mind.”

“If you must, dear, but I think Gray would rather have a piece of something else from you.”

I can feel my face flame at her words because the first thing that comes to mind is a picture of Gray’s body naked and lying on my bed asking me to—I stop the thought by clearing my throat.

“Whatever. I’m telling him off and then I’m going back home to Kentucky and that’s that.”

“A fine plan, dear.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“I only have one question,” she asks as she throws a stick out for the baby cow. I watch as he goes lumbering after it and doesn’t stop until he reaches it and puts it back in his mouth.
Did I just watch a cow play fetch?

“What’s that?” I ask, momentarily distracted.

“Why did you have to come all the way here to give him a piece of your mind? You could have done that on the telephone, surely.”

“Well, I wanted to see his face when I told him exactly what I thought about him,” I grumble, and then realizing that I’m talking about her son, I decide to try and soften my response. “No offense.”

“None taken, dear. Gray is as stubborn as a horse’s ass. It’s good to see he’s picked a woman who matches him.”

I’m inside following her to the kitchen before it hits me that Gray’s mom just threw shade at me. Somehow, I get the feeling the woman is a master at putting people in their place. I almost…
like her.

“I love your kitchen, Ida Sue,” I say lamely. I even like her. In fact, so far, I like everything about this place, and somehow that makes me feel horrible. I needed more reasons
not
to like Grayson. His family, as crazy as they are, have nothing to do with Grayson himself. The kitchen looks like the kitchen that used to be on television for that old TV show about the family with a huge amount of kids that lived in the mountains of Virginia. I can’t remember the name now, but I remember grinning at the end when all the kids were telling each other goodnight and wishing I had a big family. Grayson can’t realize how blessed he is.

“Thanks, dear. The kids about ruined it when they remodeled, but at least they kept my kitchen table,” she says. I have no idea what she’s talking about; the room is a work of art. If this is almost ruining it, I wish someone would do it to my whole house. Plus, her kitchen
table,
as she calls it, looks like an outdoor picnic table covered in a large white table cloth. It has bench seating only and could probably hold an entire football team.

“I have the tomatoes sliced. I hate to be a bother, but I really need to go find Grayson so I can head back home,” I tell her, putting my knife down. In answer, she puts cucumbers down in front of me.

“These too, sweetie. Besides, Grayson’s out on the range with Blue. It will be much easier if you catch him here at supper time. Otherwise, you could be looking until dark out there in the pasture and never find him.”

“They don’t tell you where they’re working? That seems like it wouldn’t be safe. What if one of them got hurt or something?” I mumble, working with the cucumbers and wondering why things aren’t working out the way I had them planned out in my head. I’m thinking the one answer to that is Ida Sue.

“Men. Who can keep up with them?” Ida Sue says just as the back door opens up. I tense, half-hoping and half-dreading to see Gray walk through the door. It’s not, however. There’s an older man in a black cowboy hat, jeans, and a faded button-up shirt with sandy-blonde hair that has some gray mixed in. Following him is a tall man dressed much the same, but he has shaggy hair, no hat, a faded blue shirt that’s more unbuttoned than buttoned, and he looks like walking sex. He has this rumpled look about him that says he just crawled out of bed, or maybe it’s just the way those smoky brown eyes look that makes you wish he just crawled out of
your
bed.

“Damn, Mom, something sure smells good in here,” the man says, going to the stove where Ida Sue is standing. He grabs one of the rolls she’s putting in a bowl and takes a bite. My eyes are glued to him because he might be the prettiest man I’ve ever laid eyes on. Jesus, if all of Ida Sue’s kids look like Gray and this guy, then the woman should have never stopped. In fact, the country should pay her to continue to reproduce because good golly, Miss Molly, I had no idea they even
made
men like this. I sure haven’t seen them in Kentucky before.

“White Hall, I told you if you didn’t stop your cursing I’m going to wash your mouth out with soap. Show some respect. Grayson’s lady friend is here visiting us.”

White Hall. Definitely a brother, though Grayson left out his middle name. I’m almost scared to ask where the Hall comes from, but considering the story about Magnolia, I have a pretty good idea. White turns around to look at me and those smoky eyes travel up and down my body, and in a way I just know he’s not missing anything. Heck, I’m hung up on his brother and still I can feel myself getting warm and tingly. This guy must break women’s hearts far and wide.

“I definitely like this one better than the last one. What’s your name, sweet thing?” he asks, and I almost want to roll my eyes. Did all the boys learn how to pick up a woman the same way? Gray’s “sweet lips” were more interesting.

“I’m CC,” I answer, laughing.

“I’m in love,” White answers, sliding in beside me and sitting so close I have to move over to make room between us. I shouldn’t have bothered because he just crowds up against me again.

“Behave, White Hall. This here is Gray’s Claudia.”

Gray’s Claudia? What does that mean?
I’d clear my throat to object, but I don’t get the chance.

“
Me
-
maw! Me-maw!” A little white-blonde tornado comes in yelling wearing nothing but a smile. He’s running straight for Ida Sue who stops what she’s doing, bends down to meet him, and the biggest smile comes on her face. I’m struck again with how beautiful Grayson’s mom is. I’m starting to feel frumpy around these people. All those old body issues are coming back to haunt me.

“What did I tell you about wearing clothes, River?” she asks, and the name jars me so much that the knife slips and I cut myself.

“Shit!” I growl, holding my thumb out to inspect the damage.

“What did you do, sweet thing? Here, let old White have a look at it,” White says, taking the knife from me. He looks up and winks at me. “Experience has taught me to watch women with sharp objects. We’ll just put this down.”

“Experience has taught you that women learn your bullshit fast and you have to be careful,” a man says, coming through the front door. He’s got blonde hair much like the child and he’s also freaking sexy and he’s wearing a uniform; sheriff, to be exact. Yeah, I’m definitely feeling frumpy around here.

“Bite me, Luca,” White says.

“No, thanks. Haven’t had enough shots to protect me from all the diseases you’ve probably contracted over the years.”

“You staying for dinner, Luca?” Ida Sue asks, but she seems a little cold towards the new guy. I definitely detect a chill there.

“Here, sweet thing, you’re bleeding,” White says, then kisses my hand against the wound, which might be bleeding, but if it is, it’s not much. His mouth is warm and the female in me can appreciate the soft feel of his lips, but the guy himself, as cute as he is, is starting to annoy me. I try to pull my hand away but he’s not letting go easily.

“No, Ida Sue. Just bringing River and dropping him off. Petal said she was coming here for dinner to meet Grayson’s girlfriend,” I hear the other guy answer.

This place is chaos because I hear doors open in the background coming from the living room. A couple more people come in through the kitchen door at the same time while White still kisses my hand. The naked kid is asking Ida where Terry is.

But I’m frozen because I heard the sheriff’s words. I’ve been feeling out of my depth and not talking a lot, but before I can stop myself, my mouth picks now to finally work.

“Cammie’s coming here?” I squeak because I really can’t handle that.

“Who is Cammie?” the sheriff asks.

“I hope to fuck not,” the older man joins in.

Then, I hear the voice I’d been wanting to hear ever since I first stepped foot in this crazy house. “White, what the fuck are you doing with CC? Drop her hand right now!”

Gray’s voice rings louder than anyone else’s, and the room goes quiet. My eyes automatically go to him. How is it that the man is better looking now than he was just six days ago? That doesn’t seem fair.

“What? She was cut. I was just giving her first aid. She seems to be having a little trouble breathing now. I’m thinking a little mouth-to-mouth is in order,” White says, giving me a wink. I’d laugh if I wasn’t scared that Cammie was coming here. In all of my planning of how exactly I was going to tell Grayson off, the possibility of Cammie showing back up wasn’t in them.

“If you don’t get away from my woman, you’ll be sucking your dinner through a straw,” Grayson growls. My heart trips inside of my chest.
His woman?
 

“Your woman? I don’t see how that can be since you’re engaged to Cammie!” I yell at him.

“Engaged to Cam—? What in the hell are you talking about? I wouldn’t be engaged to that snake if my life depended on it,” Gray growls back, walking towards me. He jerks White’s hands away from me. “Back the fuck off, White,” he growls quietly. White grins, but nods his head and looks back at me with a wink.

“We’ll catch up later, darlin’,” he says before getting up. 

“Not if you want to keep your face as pretty as you think it is,” Gray growls. He’s towering over me and I feel at a disadvantage, so I stand up to face him. “Now what the hell are you talking about with Cammie? Have you lost your damn mind?”

“She seems to think you are engaged.”

“She what?” he yells, and the anger and surprise in his face makes me feel a little better. I shrug when he looks at me, expecting me to explain further. I’m suddenly not sure what I’m doing here. “I’m not engaged,” he grumbles, his hand coming up to touch my hair.

“She says you are,” I argue, jerking away.

“Woman, I just left your bed a week ago,” he argues, and he doesn’t say it quietly. My face heats as I hear the whispering and laughing around us.

“A week is a long time for a player,” I tell him stubbornly.

“Not the way you wring a man dry,” Gray says, and the laughing becomes almost as loud as the red on my face.

“Gray!” I snarl.

“Everyone out!” Gray yells. No one leaves. “You either leave or you’ll see me fucking my woman on the kitchen table.”

“If my child says that word one more time, I will cut your peter off so you can’t touch your woman again!” a girl’s voice yells from the door. 

“I got a peter!” the blonde child yells. “It pees!” he yells, then proceeds to show everyone.

Let me tell you, nothing breaks the tension like having a child piss on the kitchen floor.

Nothing.