Can't Stop Loving You (8 page)

“Don't I get a hug?” he asked.

The look she shot him could have frozen Lake Travis in thirty seconds flat.

Dottie yoo-hooed from below. “Are you showing off your new paint, Brawley Odell, without inviting me?”

He chuckled. “Not a chance, sweetheart. We're waiting on you. Come on up.”

He opened the door and held it while the three women filed in.

“Well, would you look at this.” Dottie let out a small whistle. “These old walls haven't seen this much paint in the last century. Nice. Very nice. Very different.”

“I like it.” Maggie turned in circles, taking in the mix of colors. Her eyes fixed on his. “Truth. Did you choose these shades?”

He glanced at his mom. “I picked the pale gray. Mom decided we needed a touch of the dark to go with it.”

“Good choice, Mom.” Maggie gave her two thumbs up. “I absolutely loved Annie's colors. They fit her. The whole apartment did. It fit Sophie, too, after she put her own little touches on it. But this. This is right for you, Brawley.”

She turned another circle. “It's strange to see it empty, though. The light fixtures, the vintage table Annie sanded and refurbished. All the little knickknacks. Gone.”

“They weren't me, Maggie.”

“No, I don't suppose they were.”

“This is temporary, but I might as well be comfortable while I'm here.”

“You could have come home, son. You're always welcome.”

“I know that.” He laid a hand on his mother's shoulder. “As much as I love you and Dad, that's not the best idea. I'm too used to being on my own. And you and Dad are used to living your lives without me there.”

“While I'm sorry you don't have him, Karolyn, I'm awfully glad he's here,” Dottie said. “For as long as he wants to stay.”

“He should be handy to have around.” His mom patted his cheek. “Before I go, son, I have something in the car for you.” Halfway out the door, she stopped. “You need to promise to tell me if I start suffocating you.”

“Oh, believe me, I will.”

His mother scurried down the stairs.

Brawley looked at Maggie and Dottie. Both women simply shrugged.

Karolyn was back in a flash, a huge box in her hands.

“What's that?”

She opened the crate and pulled out a huge wreath. “For your door. To celebrate spring.”

His mouth dropped open, and he took a step back. “Mom, it's covered in flowers.”

She squinted at it. “Oh, my gosh. It is!” Then she laughed at the horror-struck expression on his face.

He shook his head and stuck his hands in his back pockets. “Men don't decorate their doors with flowers. Especially not Texans.”

“Sure they do.” She gave him a smacking kiss and hung the wreath.

He winced. Shit! He'd have to hide the thing when Cash or Ty came around, then hang it back up before his mom showed up again. He glanced at Maggie and glowered at her grin.

Before he could come up with a legitimate argument against it, a huge truck lumbered down the street. Brawley eyed it speculatively. Then, making out the mover's logo on the side, he fisted his hand in an air-pump. “Yes! My furniture. It's here a day early.”

“You want us to help?” Maggie asked.

“No. The movers will haul everything up. Between starting the demo on the clinic last night, clearing Annie's stuff out of the apartment with Cash this morning, then painting the rest of the day, I'm bushed. I'll have them set the furniture in place and just stack the boxes anywhere they can for now.”

“But we could—” Dottie started.

“Nope. You've got a big event coming up this weekend, and Maggie's got something special to show you. Why don't the two of you run along downstairs? I'm in no hurry. When it's all put together, I'll have everybody up for drinks. Some snacks.”

When his mother started back into the apartment, he shook his head, grabbed her by the waist, and turned her around. “You're leaving, too. I've got a hunch your body's chewing you out nearly as much as mine is me. Go. Get cleaned up and make Dad take you out to dinner.”

He gave her a kiss and herded her down the steps, then walked to the end of the drive to meet the movers. Finally. Once he had his things around him again, he'd feel a whole lot better.

Behind him, he heard Dottie's cry of delight.

“My dress!”

“It's not finished yet, but I want to see how it fits.”

He turned to see the two disappear inside and remembered how tired Maggie had looked when she'd pulled in. Looks like the hours had paid off. Her unselfishness had made Dottie one happy woman.

Brawley fished out his wallet and tipped the two men healthily. Job done. Then again, as he looked around the apartment, maybe he should make that job barely started. What the hell would he do with all this stuff?

Everything had fit nicely in his Dallas place, a condo three times this size. He'd moved quite a bit of his furniture into storage. Still…This should prove interesting.

First things first. Food. As the moving van headed off to Dallas, Maggie stepped out of Dottie's, chatting a mile a minute.

The gods had smiled on him. Had presented the perfect opportunity to grab Maggie for dinner. To take another small step toward making peace.

Halfway downstairs, he called out to her. “Hey, Red, it's dinnertime.”

She made a production of checking her watch. “Actually, it's closer to a quarter past.”

“Hah-hah. You hungry?” he asked.

“I am. Thought I'd stop by Sally's and pick up a burger to eat on my drive home.”

“I have a better idea. I'm on my way out to grab something, too. Let's go together.”

“I'm not having dinner with you, Brawley.”

“Why not? You're hungry, I'm hungry. Makes sense. It's not like I'm asking you for a date. Loosen up.”

“Loosen up?”

He walked down the last few stairs and closed the distance between them. “Look, I'm gonna be living here in Maverick Junction. From now on.”

When she opened her mouth, he laid a silencing finger on those luscious lips. “I know you're leaving, but when you come back to visit—and I know you will—I'm gonna be here. Your friends are my friends. We need to learn to coexist. Last night was a good start. Consider tonight a second tutoring session.”

She laughed. “Oh, that's rich, Brawley.
You're
going to teach
me
how to play nice?”

“Guess you could say we'll learn from each other.”

Her eyes went a deeper shade of green. “I don't know that you and I ever played nice with each other.”

“Then maybe it's time we started.”

She cursed the timing. If she'd been five minutes sooner, she'd have escaped this little scenario. Since Dottie stood at the kitchen window smiling at them, she probably shouldn't knee Brawley and take him down. Though damned if there weren't still times she dreamed of doing exactly that.

Make him hurt in the most elemental of ways. As she had.

As she still did.

Because of their shared friendships, she couldn't always avoid him. Like now.

She'd rather eat dirt than a burger alone with Brawley, but he'd trapped her. And he would pay.

She narrowed her eyes. “I want it understood this is against my better judgment. I won't enjoy this and neither will you.”

“Understood. Let's go have an awful time.” He held out his hand.

“I'll meet you there.”

Half an hour later, she had to swallow her words along with the burger. Although she'd spent the better part of the day beating herself up for last night's shared kisses, here she was enjoying herself with him again. She'd forgotten how much fun Brawley could be. Had forgotten that rapier-sharp wit.

He'd led her to a small table at the back of the restaurant, speaking to everybody he passed, poking fun at himself, assuring them the animal clinic would be open again in a few days, and totally ignoring the speculative glances sent their way.

After they sat down, Brawley asked, “Dottie like the dress?”

“She loved it. It's absolutely stunning on her.”

“Figured it would be. She's a good-looking woman, and you're one hell of a designer. Winning combination.”

Sally brought them sweet teas without needing to ask. They ordered cheeseburgers and greasy fries. He pulled the lettuce off his the instant their waitress set his meal in front of him.

“You're not going to eat that?”

“Nope.”

“Lettuce is good for you.”

“Not on a hot sandwich,” he groused.

Maggie forked the lettuce and added it to her burger. “You have some strange habits, Brawley Odell.”

“Possibly,” he conceded. “How many will be at this shindig on Saturday?”

Maggie shook her head. “A whole lot more than we'd originally planned. Dottie and Fletch decided on an intimate family wedding. As it turns out, practically the entire town wants to come, and everybody assumes he's invited.”

“So small and intimate has shifted to large and complicated.”

“Exactly. And that's okay. It's only fitting that all of Maverick Junction and half of Lone Tree celebrate with them.” Maggie took a bite of her burger, her tongue sliding out to lick a speck of mayonnaise from the corner of her mouth.

Brawley breathed deeply and wrestled his overactive libido to the ground.

“For the town, it's an opportunity to get dressed up and party. Pops and Dottie aren't exactly your typical bride and groom.”

“Because?”

“Well, they're…more mature. They're in love with each other, not in lust like most newlyweds.”

“In other words, you don't think they'll be falling all over each other?”

“Brawley! We're talking about my grandfather.”

“Yeah?”

“So this isn't young love with all the hearts and flowers. Not that Dottie doesn't deserve the romance.”

“Oh, I think they're doing okay in the romance department.”

She laid down her sandwich. “What do you mean?”

Oh, boy. Now he'd stepped in it. He sipped his tea, giving himself a minute. “Forget I said anything.”

“How am I supposed to do that?”

“Come on, Mags. You're a big girl. You know what goes on between couples.”

She grimaced.

He laughed. He couldn't help it. “They're older, not dead, sugar. There's still plenty of heat.”

Slowly, she shook her head. “I don't even want to know how you can be so sure.”

He popped a fry in his mouth.

“This is a ridiculous conversation,” she said.

“Your grandfather stopped by for a booty call after you left last night.”

She choked. “Oh, geez.”

He made to pat her back, but she elbowed him away.

“I was at the window when he came out, all mussed, shirt half unbuttoned, and barefoot. The two of them shared a real nice kiss before he got in his truck and drove away. Believe me, sweetheart, theirs is not a platonic relationship.”

“I never said it was.”

“Good.” He swirled another fry in ketchup.

“Please tell me they weren't rolling around naked in the garden.”

“In the garden? No.”

She pressed her fingertips to her eyes as if blocking the visual. After a full minute of silence, she threw him a wobbly smile. “I'm happy for him. For both of them. It's a good thing.”

“It is.” He crunched his pickle. “Sad state of affairs, though, when an octogenarian is getting more than I am.”

“Yeah, isn't it?” She grinned wickedly.

More than ready to leave the topic behind, he asked about Ella. “How's she working out?”

He questioned Maggie about her plans once she hit New York, she asked about his for the clinic. Any trace of awkwardness disappeared.

He finished his fries and started on hers. She slapped his hand away. “Eat your own.”

“I did.” He pointed at his empty plate. “They're gone. Sally didn't give me as many as she gave you.”

“Bull. Order some more.”

“Nah, I'm okay.” Lightning quick, he grabbed a couple more of hers.

“Okay, so I've heard the company line.”

He quirked a brow. “About what?”

“The clinic. I know what you're telling everybody, but will your doors open on time?”

“Yep. I had a crew working today. Cash and Ty are gonna meet me there tomorrow. So's my dad. If we put in a couple long days, we'll make it.”

“What all are you doing?”

“Out front, not too much. A little reorganization of the reception area, some sprucing up in the exam rooms. You know, slapping some paint on the walls, new flooring. Most of the changes are in the back. We're doing some work in Doc's office. Knocking out a closet, enlarging the bath, sticking in a shower.”

“Whoa! A shower? That sounds pretty major to me.”

“Dottie's place is great, and I love the claw-foot for soaking. But a man can't live without his shower. After a day working with animals, I can be pretty grungy. With a tub, I feel like I'm soaking in my own dirt. I need to wash it away, right down the drain, and I'd prefer to do it before I leave the clinic.”

“Makes sense.”

“Want to stop and take a peek at what we've done so far?”

“I'm dying to, but I need to get home. Tomorrow's another busy day. Between planning this weekend's wedding, training Ella, and getting everything ready before I head to New York, I'm meeting myself coming and going.”

They argued over the check.

“It's not a date,” she reminded him. “Therefore, I pay for my own meal.”

“It's two friends—”

At her raised brows, he backtracked. “It's two
old acquaintances
sharing dinner. If one wants to pick up the other's tab, why not?”