Handcuffs and Handheld Vegetables
COLT
Beck eyes me as he digs a plastic bag out of his pocket. “You know that I know that you’re thinking about using these on Lainey, right?”
“They’re for Dean’s career day, jackass. He’s dressing up as a cop.” Taking the bag, I’m surprised by its weight. These handcuffs are the real deal.
Better be, considering Beck got them from our actual sheriff. Took him over a week to track Cody down. The two of them go way back, just like me and Ryder. I figured if anyone could get his hands on some, er, handcuffs, it’d be my brother.
“Your six-year-old is not bringing actual handcuffs to school.” Beck eyes me as he tucks his hands back inside the pockets of his jacket. It’s late, well after eight o’clock at night, and the air is chilly. “Seriously, I need to know that you’re gonna use ’em for play and not for—”
“Actual restraining purposes?”
He smirks, the porch light catching on his copper-colored beard. “Are you gonna read her her rights before you—”
“I knew this was a mistake,” I groan.
It’s been nearly a week and a half since Lainey arrived. I’ve done a decent job of avoiding her. Out of sight, out of mind.
Or so I thought. I think I just—God, she annoys me, even when she’s not around. Somehow the chick got under my skin. Now I can’t stop thinking of ways to get back at her.
Ways to send her running. Figure the handcuffs might be a fun little prank to nudge her in that direction. I thought I’d keep them in my back pocket when I’m at work, clearly visible. Maybe threaten to cuff her if she gets in my way.
Maybe I’ll even keep them in my glove box. She’ll get a fun little scare next time she’s in my truck.
Is the prank idea unhinged? Probably. But I’m done bracing myself every time I turn a corner, annoyed—scared—I’ll run into her again.
“Not a mistake if you use ’em to have a little fun,” Beck says slowly. “I’m not gonna judge you for that. Heck, no one deserves to blow off some steam more’n you.”
I lean against the doorframe and sigh. Much as I appreciate Beck dropping the cuffs off at my house, I’m ready for bed. Haven’t been sleeping all that great. “That’s not what I got them for.”
Beck narrows his eyes. “Fine. If you didn’t want them for Lainey, what are you gonna do with them?”
“I told you, they’re for Dean.”
Beck rolls his eyes. “I’m too tired for this shit. Fine. Whatever. Just don’t do anything stupid, okay?”
I can just imagine the fire in Lainey’s eyes if she found them in my glove box beside the whiskey and the cigars.
Who the fuck do you think you are? she’d ask.
You’re the one who brought up handcuffs in the first place, I’d reply. You’d best listen to what I say, yeah?
In the terrible fucking dream I had last night, she did listen.
She listened very well when I told her to lie back and spread her legs.
I woke up sweating. Leaking everywhere. Which just pissed me off even more, because I had to change the sheets.
I hate this woman. I’ve known her for all of a week and some change, and suddenly I’m having dreams about her?
Fuck her for life, seriously.
“Okay.” Straightening, I reach for the doorknob. “Thanks. And speaking of Lainey, I appreciate you keeping her occupied.”
“She’s a fuckin’ delight.”
“I beg to differ.”
“You can’t stand her because you like her.”
“This isn’t middle school, Beck.”
Beck shrugs. “Middle school sucked, but this doesn’t have to. Just sayin’, I like her for you.”
Scoffing, I start to close the door. “I love you, but please leave.”
“She’s smart.”
“Bye.”
“And cute.”
“Goddamn it—”
“And she’s different. In a good way.”
I hang my head. “Stop.”
“Never.”
“She’s a pain in my ass.” I lift my head. “She’s an employee. She’s also young. Too young. Not to mention that I’m not—”
“Right.” His smirk is back. “You’re not at all interested. Got it.”
“What kind of message would that send Dean, huh? Me…doing whatever with Lainey? Not like I ever would because she sucks, but…”
“I think it sends the message that you like women who are real and fierce.”
Women who aren’t like Abby.
Because while Abby was many things, real wasn’t one of them.
“It also shows him there’s life after death,” Beck adds softly.
I’m beat. Sighing, I give him a wave. “See you tomorrow.”
“Night, Colt. Love ya.”
“Love you too.”
I tuck the handcuffs into my work bag and collapse into bed.
Sunday supper.
It’s usually my favorite time of the week. Mom makes something ungodly delicious. Dad breaks out the good brown liquor. Dean gets showered with love and attention and his favorite desserts. Mom is a big baker, and she loves the excuse to whip up something sweet just for him.
But I realize one second too late that this Sunday supper is different.
As I step into the single-story home where I was raised and where my parents still live, despite the fact that they could’ve easily built something bigger and fancier, the first person I see is none other than Lainey freaking Brown.
She’s standing at the kitchen counter beside Mom. The two of them are laughing, all smiles as Mom gives a pot a stir and Lainey peels a cucumber. A pair of mostly empty wineglasses sit on the granite nearby.
I swear to Christ, the woman is out to kill me. A fucking cucumber? Really? I know she’s not trying to antagonize me, because she’s got better things to do. But as she holds the cucumber and patiently, almost tenderly, peels the skin off—
Goddamn it, I feel like she is trying to antagonize me.
Or maybe you just want her to because those handcuffs are burning a hole in your pocket. Saddlebag. Whatever.
It’s been almost two weeks since she arrived.
Almost two weeks since I grabbed her hand and felt woozy from the contact.
I do not get woozy. Ever. But there I was, sure I was in the midst of a legitimate cardiac event as Lainey laughed and Big Brother practically kissed her palm.
We’ve crossed paths a few times since then.
She’s always scribbling in that damn notebook of hers, a thoughtful look on her face as she listened to Beck talk about cattle, watched a buyer take a horse for a spin, or asked Billie a million questions about how she keeps an operation as big as ours running.
I hate that she’s so interested in everything. Why can’t she, I don’t know, turn up her nose at us and be the stuck-up, clueless city girl I want her to be?
She did look ridiculous in what I’m sure she thought was appropriate ranch wear. For her, that looks like tight-ass jeans, white fucking cowboy boots, and flannel button-ups she ties at her waist, showing off her belly button.
I dreamed about her again last night. She and I were fighting about something—everything—and out of the blue, she grabbed my shirt and kissed me. Then I pulled off her shirt, and just as I was slipping my hand inside her jeans, I woke up hard as fuck again.
I’ve been careful to avoid her since that first day.
For obvious reasons. One of the benefits of having five siblings is that someone’s always around to pick up the slack.
Far as I know, Lainey’s been spending most of her time with either Billie or Beck or holed up in the conference room in the ranch’s new offices.
Bless her black heart, she’s been staying here at my parents’ house while we wait for a plumbing issue to be fixed in the apartment above the hay barn. Guess that explains why she and Mom are so chummy all of a sudden.
Also explains why Lainey would be at Sunday supper.
“Mimi!” Dean still screams with delight anytime he sees my mom. It’s really cute. I can already see glimpses of some preteen attitude in him, so it’s nice when he still acts like my sweet baby boy.
Part of me is so ready for him to grow up. Another part wants to keep him this little forever.
He takes off running and wraps his arms around Mom’s legs. “Mimi, guess what!”
“Well hey there, handsome!” She bends down to wrap him in a tight hug. “Oh, you always give the best hugs.”
“But guess what!”
“What?” She’s grinning ear to ear.
“Dad drove me all the way to Austin yesterday to go to this store that was all LEGO! Can you believe it? Look what I got!” He holds up the half-completed Star Wars ship we’ve been working on since, oh, six thirty this morning. “Isn’t it the coolest?”
“Whoa whoa whoa.” Lainey holds up a hand. Thankfully, it’s not the one holding the cucumber. “You like LEGO sets?”
My son smiles up at her. “I don’t like LEGO sets, I love LEGO sets.”
That has us all laughing. And then—Goddamn it—my eyes are raking over Lainey because my guard slipped for all of two heartbeats.
She’s barefoot. Wearing a long black dress that hugs her waist and buttons down the front, the deep V of the neckline revealing just the tiniest bit of her full chest. Her hair is loose and wavy.
Lips bright red.
She looks pretty. And sexy. And perfectly put together in a relaxed kind of way.
I wish I were that relaxed. That free to just…kick back and enjoy the evening.
Why don’t you? Right now?
“I just so happen to love LEGO sets too. I miss playing with them,” Lainey is saying. “Maybe you and I could build something together?”
Dean, suddenly shy, grins. “Okay. Are you Mimi’s friend?”
“That’s right! Y’all haven’t met yet.” Mom puts a hand on Dean’s shoulders. I notice she’s still leaning a bit on her right leg, which makes me frown. “This is Miss Lainey. She’s here to help me and Pawpaw come up with some new ideas for the ranch.”
“New ideas?” Dean shrugs. “Like what?”
Lainey grins. “You know how everyone recognizes a LEGO brick? Like they immediately know what it is because it’s so different and cool and special?”
“LEGO bricks are super cool,” Dean replies.
“Well, I’m going to do that for the ranch. Make sure everyone knows what it is because it’s so different and cool and special.”
Dean is grinning now too. “That sounds fun.”
“Do you like to draw?”
“Yeah. Only with markers, though. Crayons are for babies.”
“Well, would you like to help me draw up some ideas for a new logo for the ranch? It’s a symbol that will represent what y’all do here. We could play around with horseshoes, horses…”