Chapter 5 #2
“If that’s the case, maybe we can be friends starting now. Equal footing as adults. What do you say?”
I tempt a lopsided grin right out of him. “I’d say that’s fair. Forget about all the other stuff. Friends?” He holds out his hand. Just as I take it, we’re startled by heavy footsteps.
“Christine Greene,” his father says, coming from the hall near the stairs. “What brings you by?” Walking straight to the roast, he lowers to get a good whiff. “Man, I’m starving.”
I reply, “I—”
“I’m glad you’re here for dinner. I want to hear about your dad and how he’s doing.”
“Of course. Thank you for having me.” I think that’s my cue to leave. “I’m going to join Mrs. Grange on the porch.”
He looks up and says, “Let Mary know dinner won’t be long.”
“I will.” I walk outside, closing the door behind me.
I bring the glasses to the table between a rocking chair where Mary sits holding Beck on her lap and the white wicker loveseat that’s seen better days.
The sun does a lot of damage to things left unattended too long.
“Mr. Grange said dinner is almost ready. Is it okay if I open it?”
“Yes, please.” After a kiss to Beck’s head, she tells him, “Go and have fun.” He takes off running as if freedom tastes too good to waste sitting around with the ladies on a porch.
Leaning forward toward me, she whispers, “Now let’s gossip. Tell me everything.”
I start to laugh. Twisting off the cap, I say, “I’m not sure there’s much to tell these days. You know how it goes in Peachtree.” I generously fill both glasses.
“I do, but there must be something the young people here are up to or the latest church news. Who’s been caught cheating or who was seen out at the bars when they shouldn’t have been.
” She sips her wine. “This piece of paradise is a part of who I am, but the nights are a lot quieter these days.” She looks at me as I settle onto the loveseat.
The gentle tip at the corners of her lips can’t conceal the sincerity in her expression.
It’s all laid bare for me. “I miss the bustling of the boys and the busyness of running the stables and seeing people, talking to others.”
“I know that feeling. I mean, not the kids’ part but the quiet part.” Directing my gaze toward the sunset, I say, “I don’t know that I’d trade these views for anything, but it would be nice to share them with someone.”
She nods. “I met Justin in high school. He was a year older. We just clicked. Do you go on dates?” It’s odd to be asked questions that the men in my life never do.
Lauralee and I commiserate, but it feels good to have a different perspective, and it’s comforting, like how it might have been with my mom.
“Truth be told,” I start with a laugh, “the selection isn’t great.”
“I imagine it’s not. And it’s not like Prince Charming is going to show up on the ranch out of nowhere.”
I grin. “Exactly.” She gets it. “Lauralee and I go to the bar every so often, but it’s no better there.”
“And Dover County? Do they have any worthy prospects?”
“Define worthy.” This time, we both laugh.
Although she’s sitting back, her gaze volleying between watching Beck handle a stick like a wizard and me sharing how pathetic my dating life is, she reaches over and squeezes my hand.
Looking only at me this time, she says, “It can’t be easy running a ranch out here as a woman.
You need a partner who respects your position and deserves all the love you have inside you. Don’t settle, okay, Christine?”
My feelings wrap around my heart, giving it a little squeeze as tears form in the corners of my eyes. She’s setting her glass down and moving next to me in seconds. With her arm around my back, she rubs and whispers, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
I dip my head and swipe under my eyes, hoping I won’t look like a raccoon from my mascara running. It feels good to be embraced in her arms like I’m one of her own.
My dad is a great go-get’em-tiger kind of man with a pat on the back.
He’s mastered the side hug and the occasional kiss to the head, but his upbringing taught him showing emotions is a sign of weakness.
My mother was the opposite. She made him softer in the ways that a little girl needs.
Once she was gone, he forgot how to feel anything.
Lifting my head from her shoulder, I laugh as embarrassment takes hold of me. “I’m sure I’m a mess now.”
Using the soft side of her finger, she gently wipes under my eyes.
“Beautiful as ever. I used to be so jealous of your mom. She was cheerful and optimistic, effortlessly beautiful, like you, and the kindest soul. I miss her visits. I miss hanging out on her porch drinking mimosas . . .” She eyes me like they were up to no good.
“Because we thought that was fancy and catching up on the week while the boys played.”
“I just miss her.”
With a little rub of my knee, she nods and sits back again.
I don’t know why I feel lighter. I would have thought humiliation for breaking down would be weighing on me, but it’s the opposite. I exhale, letting a smile return to my face, and then sip my wine. Sitting with Mary is nice, so I say, “Mr. Gregors is sleeping with Iris Barker over in Dover.”
Popping to the edge of her seat, she leans over. “Really?”
“Yep. She was widowed last year, but rumor has it this affair has been going on long before he died.”
Her mouth hangs open. “How do you know this?”
“Lauralee gets all the juicy gossip up at Peaches.”
When she’s sitting back again, she laughs, holding out her glass to me. “It’s good to have some girl time again.”
“It is.”
Opening the door, Tag pops his head outside. “Dinner is ready.”
Mary stands, giving my wrist a little squeeze. “Perfect timing.” She mouths to me, “Thank you.” With a new glow about her, she takes the bottle of wine inside with her.
I stand with my glass as Tagger calls Beck inside. Turning to me, he says, “What did you two talk about?”
Facing him, I lean against the house, not a foot dividing us, and smirk. “Not you if that’s what you’re worried about.”
“Disappointing.” His smirk quirks into place. “Whoa,” he says, jumping back to let Beckett fly past him. “Wash your hands, buddy.” Tag is quick to return to his spot, smiling at me like there was no interruption. “Where were we?”
“You were expressing disappointment because your mom and I didn’t make you the center of our conversation.”
“Ah. Yes.” His eyes look past me, and he takes in a breath.
Standing this close to him has me taking in the finer details of his face—three lines from the corners of his eyes, the green is sager when reflecting the colors of the sunset, and the scruff covering the snow drift of his jaw has my mind wondering how it feels—against my fingertips and much lower. “Well, there’s always tomorrow.”
I don’t know why that keeps my smile in place, but it does. “There’s always tomorrow.” I’m not sure I should be hoping he comes out to the ranch again, but I wouldn’t be upset one bit if he did.
Back in my bedroom, I had convinced myself that my new little buddy had twisted Tagger’s arm to invite me over. Now, standing here with him hanging out like we have nowhere to be or a dinner to eat, I’m rethinking that stance. Recent events would prove the case . . .
Large hands that covered my hips at the store.
The electrifying brush of our skin in the kitchen.
Even him offering to drive me was surprising.
I look down between us, giddiness threatening to zip up my spine. I shouldn’t allow myself to feel things that might be one-sided, much less with a man I know will be gone in a few days. But when I look back up at him, I can’t deny the signs of possibility coming from him as well.
Get a hold of yourself, Chris.
He’s Baylor’s best friend.
In some kind of situation with a woman back in New York City.
And has a son to focus on.
Tagger Grange was always nice when I remember the times we spent together. He’s just being a gentleman, so don’t read too much into this. It will only lead to my own disappointment. And when he leaves, like he already plans to do, I don’t need to be healing another broken heart he’s left behind.
Returning to what this really is—a friend having a friend over for dinner—I glimpse his family seated at the table, and ask, “Are you ready for me?”
His body still blocks my entry, and his eyes fix on mine. “I’m not sure, but I might be willing to take the risk.”
And just like that, my heart is thrown into turmoil again.