23. Mack
CHAPTER 23
MACK
T he next few weeks pass in a haze of Gracelyn, football, and more Gracelyn.
I don’t know what it is about her, but I can’t get enough.
Enough of her laugh, her smile, her fucking amazing body.
I love watching her come undone, chest flushing the prettiest shade of pink, chill bumps rising on her arms. The way she shivers beneath my touch, then begs for more.
Harder, faster, deeper.
But even more than that, I love talking to her, spending time with her. She’s funny and cute and spunky.
Firecracker.
I’ve hardly spent any time with the guys, and they’re starting to give me a hard time about it. Especially Baker.
“Yo, Mack—coming out tonight? We haven’t had a chance to hang in forever.” Baker raises a brow at me from across the coaches office.
“It has been a while.” I huff out a breath, debating my evening plans. I have missed a lot of boys’ nights lately, and this could be one of our last chances before Baker becomes a dad.
Baker holds up his hands. “Lindsey’s feeling good at the moment and I have the green light on Mustang’s. So what do you say—you coming?” He shoots me a hopeful look, and I nod.
“Yeah, I’ll come.”
“Yes!” Baker pumps his fist in the air, a broad grin lighting up his face. “Carter’s meeting us there. He had a dean’s meeting, but he said he’s coming.”
“Okay, I’ll see you over there in a few.”
On the way to my truck, I text Gracelyn.
Mack: Meeting the boys at Mustang’s for a beer. I’ll be home by ten
Firecracker: Boo. I’m gonna miss you
Mack: Sleepover tonight? My place?
Firecracker: Tempting…
Mack: Key’s under the mat. Be naked when I get there
Firecracker: You’re awfully presumptuous. Who said I was coming?
Mack: Oh, you’re coming all right. All night long…
Firecracker: When you put it like that…
Mack: See you later
She sends a kissy face emoji and I toss my cell onto the passenger seat, firing up the truck. I’m almost to Mustang’s when the phone rings. Assuming it’s Gracelyn, I pick up without checking caller ID.
Big mistake.
“Hello, Ulysses.”
Fuck.
My throat dries up, palms instantly sweating on the wheel. There’s only two people on this planet that call me by my real name, and only one of them is female.
“Hello, Mother.”
“It’s been an absolute age since we chatted. I assume you’re coming for Thanksgiving? You haven’t been home since last Christmas. Not that I’m keeping track.”
Double fuck.
The last thing I want to do is spend the long holiday weekend with my family. But she’s right—it has been a long time since I’ve been home and I suppose I do owe my parents a visit.
“Um, sure. I guess.”
“Such enthusiasm, Ulysses.” Her tone snarky, my guard’s already rising. “What’s going on in your world, dear? Since we never talk. How’s the woodworking business?”
“Fine. Business is good.”
“I do wish you would have pursued something less…” She pauses for a long second, choosing her words. “Working class.” Her voice drops, almost as if she can’t bear the phrase.
“I like what I do, Mother. And I make a good living from it, too.” I exhale long and slow, trying to maintain my composure as I slide into a spot at Mustang’s.
I’m going to need a beer after this conversation. Talking to my mom always has this effect. The main reason I limit contact.
“A living subsidized by us. But it’s fine. You can use your inheritance however you want, now that you’re of age.”
Nice dig there.
“And what about your love life? I’m not getting any younger here. I’d love a grandbaby before I die.”
My hand grips the worn leather wheel and I stare at the exterior of the bar, debating mentioning Gracelyn.
“Actually, I have met someone.”
“What? Really? Is it serious?” Her voice tips up, intrigue traveling straight through the line.
“Yes, really. And we’re tracking that direction.”
“Who is she? What does she do? She’s not local, is she? Please tell me you didn’t meet her on some god forsaken dating app.”
I thrum the wheel, a tension headache brewing.
“No dating app. Gracelyn is a local, not that it matters. She’s pretty and smart and funny.”
“You must bring her to Thanksgiving, Ulysses.”
Oh no. Hot dread fills my gut, temple full-on throbbing now. The last thing I want to do is torture Gracelyn with my insufferable family.
There’s a reason I left Augusta. And that reason is them and what they represent.
Old money. Elitism. Exclusivity.
Everything I despise.
“I don’t know, Mother. It’s the holidays, she may already have plans.”
“You haven’t discussed the holidays? You absolutely must negotiate logistics if you’re serious about this Grace girl. I deserve to spend the holidays with my son as much as she does.”
For fuck’s sake. My mother’s getting up in arms about the division of holidays and she hasn’t even met Gracelyn yet.
Maybe if I take her home with me, rip off the Band-aid, we’ll start the relationship with my family on the right foot.
“Fine. I’ll ask her. But no promises. Like I said—I’m not sure if she already has plans.”
“Please let me know by Wednesday, Ulysses. I need to tell the chef how much turkey to prepare.”
I roll my eyes, grateful I’m not on Facetime.
“Of course. I’ll ask her and get back to you ASAP.”
“Wonderful. I very much look forward to meeting Grace.”
“Her name’s Gracelyn.”
“Right. Grace-lyn.” She puts heavy emphasis on the ending. “I do hope to see both of you soon. Have a good night, Ulysses.”
And with that, she clicks off, leaving me sitting speechless in the dark.
Oh shit.
Now I need to convince Gracelyn to come home to Augusta with me for Thanksgiving, otherwise I’ll never hear the end of it from my mother and the relationship will be damaged before she’s even met my family.
Holy hell.
I debate calling her right now, but this is probably a convo best had in person. Then I spot Baker and Carter walking into Mustang’s—I’ll have to chat with Gracelyn later.
Shoving into the bar, I immediately notice it’s a lot less crowded than the last time we were here. To be fair, it is a Monday night.
Carter and Baker have seats at the bar and beers already in hand. I sidle up, taking the spot next to Baker.
“Hey, boys.”
“I was wondering if you were punking us.” Baker glances over his shoulder, beer bottle raised. “Thought you weren’t gonna show.”
“I’m here.” I adjust my ball cap, running my fingers through my hair before setting it back in place.
“Don’t sound so excited, buddy.” Baker frowns, shaking his head.
“It’s not you two. I just got off the phone with my mother.”
I know both of them will understand and sympathize with my plight, having heard all about my family over the years.
“Oh. That’ll do it for sure. What’s the issue this time? The club run out of Arnold Palmers or something? Wrong type of turf on the greens?”
“Worse. She wants me to bring Gracelyn home for the holidays.”
“Oh shit.” Baker lets out a long, low whistle. “Don’t do it, man. Nothing good’s gonna come from that.”
I scrub the back of my neck. “I know. But if I don’t take her, I’m never gonna hear the end of it.”
Carter presses his lips together in a tight line, but stays silent. Something that’s not in Baker’s wheelhouse.
“If it were me, I’d avoid that scenario. Nothing against your parents, but I like to put off the meet-and-greet as long as humanly possible. Especially at the holidays.” Baker takes another long swig of his beer and I motion to the bartender, signaling for a drink. This entire conversation’s making me thirsty.
“That way, if things don’t work out—and I’m not insinuating they won’t, don’t get it twisted—but if y’all break up, no one had to go through the special hell that is meeting the parents. Ya know?” Baker waves his bottle through the air.
“Man, who hurt you?” I tease, frowning at him.
He shakes his head. “You know what I mean, Mack.”
“I do. Just giving you a hard time, Baker. But I don’t think I can get out of it this time.”
The bartender slides my beer across the counter, and I gratefully accept the chilled bottle. I love my parents, but that doesn’t mean I want to spend the long holiday weekend at their house. Add Gracelyn to the mix and Baker’s right—things could go sideways in a hurry. My mother isn’t the easiest woman in the world to get along with. Everyone appeases her to keep her at bay, and there’s no telling what type of snide remarks she’ll make to Gracelyn. I’ll have to stand up for my girl, and that will piss my mom off for sure. Honestly, I was hoping to put off the meeting with Gracelyn until we got married.
Married. What the fuck? I have no idea where that came from.
To drown out my wandering thoughts, I slug down half the beer, eyes fixated on the ball game playing on the television above the bar.
“Not to muddy the waters any, Mack. But if I were you, I’d take Gracelyn home. She’s good with people. I’m sure she can charm your family. Plus, if she doesn’t go, I sense your mother will be offended. Probably best to introduce them and smooth the way, since your mom’s keen on the idea.” Carter glances over at me, tiny frown lines etched between his brow.
Deep-down, I know he’s right. I should take Gracelyn home and introduce her to my parents. Show her where I come from, why I am the way I am.
I nod, my mind made up.
“Fine. I’ll take her, if she’ll go. For all I know, she and her mom already have big plans.”
“Doubt it. The past few years, Gracelyn and her mom came over to our house for Thanksgiving. But this year, Cam’s playing football and I’m going to the game. So I won’t be here.”
“Hopefully Mrs. Reynolds can find a backup plan for turkey day.”
Baker shrugs. “If not, you’re off the hook. That there’s what we call a win-win, Mack.”
He’s not wrong.
I shove away from the bar. “I gotta go talk to Gracelyn. See y’all tomorrow.”
Plunking a ten-dollar bill on the counter, I wave goodbye to my friends as I hustle out of the bar. The sooner I get this holiday discussion over with, the better. Either way, Thanksgiving just got a whole lot more complicated.