Getting Lucky (27 page)

   "Sometimes I wonder why all this had to happen," Julie said.

   "Sometimes it's hard to get an Irish lass's attention."

   "Damn my red hair and name. Thanks, Momma," Julie managed a weak giggle.

   "Any time. Good-bye and good luck."

   Julie went back to the lion's den to face off with the vermin only to find both Laura and Melinda sitting on the floor dressing Barbie dolls with the girls. Griffin and Chuck had gone back to the barn.

   Laura looked up. "Can we start all over? I'm Laura Luckadeau, Griffin's mother. And this is his older and very much overprotective sister, Melinda, who speaks her mind before she thinks. We are glad you are here."

   "I'm Julie, Annie's mother, and thank you for starting all over," Julie said coolly.

   Julie went to the kitchen and continued with her lunch preparations. In between jobs she stole glances at the women with the little girls. Would the Luckadeau grand parents decide to press for grandparents' rights and take Annie away from her for a weekend a month, and a month in the summer? The thought gave her cold chills.

   "Mother, we better let these girls finish their Barbie ball and get busy. We need to call the caterers and check on the guest list," Melinda said.

   As they walked into the kitchen, Melinda flipped her blonde hair over her shoulder. "Mother will boss, whine, and beg for the rest of the week to get what she wants and when the two-day sale starts, she'll be as sweet as honey to the buyers. She's damn good at what she does. Dian hated her for it. Oops! Guess I'm not supposed to bring up her name anymore."

   "Don't be catty," Julie said. "I don't give a damn if you loved her and talk about her all the time and to her on the phone every single day. Griffin and I are friends. That's all there is to it. You won't make me jealous talking about Dian, so don't be coy or catty."

   "You sure speak your mind," Melinda said.

   "Always have and always will. Take it or leave it. I don't care one way or the other," Julie said.

   "Dian saw Mother as competition rather than a friend," Melinda said.

   "I don't see either of you as anything other than Lizzy's grandmother and aunt," Julie told them.

   "And Annie's grandmother?" Laura said.

   "We'll see," Julie said.

   "Fair enough." Laura got up and went to the pantry. She returned with a notebook and a pen and picked up the cordless phone on the kitchen cabinet.

   Julie couldn't wait to get Griffin off in a corner and tell him exactly how upset she was with him for unloading all this in her lap without warning. And especially for doing it without telling his mother about Annie.

Griffin dreaded going back in the house that evening, even though he hadn't seen his family since the beginning of the summer and he always loved company. He'd played a dozen scenarios in his mind during the afternoon while he invented reasons for him and Chuck to stay in the barn.

   He'd meant to tell Julie that they always helped with the sale, but he thought he had at least one more day. It wasn't easy talking to her when every time he looked at her all that was on his mind was making love to her. The desire he'd been fighting for weeks kept him tongue- tied and confused. He couldn't act upon the ache to feel her in his arms; not after she'd been with his brother, Graham, and had a child with him to prove it. Yet, he couldn't make it disappear.

   
So what?
his conscience chided.
She's a strong
woman, a good mother, and you're damn sure attracted
to her now, no matter what happened in the past. What
was it he said? "The past is like Las Vegas; what
happens there stays there."

   He was glad to see the old red truck still sitting in the driveway when he parked his vehicle. So she hadn't let his sister's sharp tongue send her packing. That was good because she hadn't let them run her off and then it was bad because she would be gunning for bear—and he was the bear.

   "She's going to be a handful," he said as he crawled out of the truck and made his way to house.

   "What's a hamfull?" Chuck asked.

   "You'll understand when you get older," Griffin said and went through the gate Chuck had left open.

"Griffin!" Laura said when he walked into the kitchen.

   "You're still in trouble," Melinda sing-songed from behind the bar where she filled glasses with ice and set them on the table.

   "Shut up and give me a hug," he said.

   "Not until you've had a shower and shave and smell like a human," she teased.

   "Daddy, Daddy, guess what? Grandma is Annie's grandma too acause your brother is her daddy," Lizzy paused and tilted her head sideways. "How'd that happen, Daddy?"

   "You'll understand it when you are a big girl. Do you mind sharing Grandma with Annie?"

   "No and she's going to share her grandma with me acause I don't have a momma's momma."

   "Honey, you do have another grandmother. She lives in California with your mother, Dian, but you just don't get to see her. But that's nice that Annie is going to share her grandma with you, too." Melinda looked at Julie.

   Julie stood in the corner of the kitchen, arms folded over her chest, with that look on her face that Griffin had seen twice before now—that day in her yard when Lizzy ran away and more recently, in the back of Mamie's store when Dian stole Annie. He had a feeling that today's look had nothing to do with children and everything to do with him.

   "Please excuse Julie and me. We've got some things to talk about in the library," he said.

   "I thought this was a platonic relationship," Melinda said.

   "What it is happens not to be a bit of your damn busi ness, Melinda," Griffin said.

   "Momma, she's got him talking like Graham did. Griffin used to be the good twin," Melinda pouted.

   "Suck up your lower lip. I'm a big boy. I can even go to the potty all by myself," he said.

   "I'm not so sure," Melinda said.

   He ignored her and followed Julie into the library. He would have liked a beer but he'd be damned if his sister saw him getting a little liquid courage.

   Julie paced from one end of the small library to the other. Three walls were covered floor to ceiling with filled bookcases. The fourth wall was glass and faced out into a small courtyard, where a white rock and cactus garden waited for spring. A wing back leather chair sat behind an enormous mahogany desk that took up a sizeable chunk of floor space in the middle of the room. She was at the far end of the library when he opened the door.

   She turned and started firing questions at him at the same time. "Why didn't you tell me they were coming and why didn't you tell me what the sale involved and why didn't you tell them about Annie? And why did you leave once you did tell them and I had to face off with both of them alone?"

   He sat down in the chair and double-clicked the icon on the computer to bring up his email messages. She crossed the room, reached over his shoulder, and deleted the action.

   "What are you doing?" he asked.

   "Don't you sit there and play with the computer when I ask you something." She had leaned in so close that a red curl brushed his neck and set off a rush of desire.

   Yep, she was a handful when she was angry. Living with her would always be a nightmare so he should get that idea out of his head right now. But what a ride life would be with her. There'd never be a dull moment and she'd keep him on his toes right up until the time he died.

   "I was going to tell you they were coming. I thought I had a couple of more days. I'm surprised they got here this early. I didn't want to tell you until the last minute because I didn't want you to take Annie and go home for the two weeks they'll be here. Lizzy would drive me insane without Annie around. Even with her grand mother and Aunt Melinda, it would be a nightmare. So if I didn't tell you until it was too late for you to make other plans, then I wouldn't have to deal with that," he said honestly.

   She propped a hip on his desk. "You've had weeks to tell your mother about Annie and me and Graham. I had to do it and it damn sure wasn't easy or fair."

   He grinned, the dimple in his chin deepening. She had the sudden urge to kiss those lips right above the damned indention but he wasn't getting off the hook with a boyish grin. No sir, she wasn't finished fighting at all.

   "All you had to do was ask me to stay. I'm not so eager to separate them either, you know. They should have been twins. Either mine or yours. It's like they've found their other half," she said.

   "Well, the way you act, I sure didn't know that. Hells bells, most of the time, I don't know what you'll do or say."

   "Get used to it, honey. I'll never hold my tongue or my emotions again," she lied. Sitting so close to him sent her blood to the boiling point and it had little to do with anger.

   "We finished?" he asked. He hoped not. He was alone with her and he liked that.

   "For now. We'll talk about this sale thing later. I thought it was a bunch of men who bought cattle and hauled them out in a truck," she said.

   "Basically that's right. But it's an auction and a dance and a party and half the state including the governor will probably be here, so get ready to smile until your face hurts," he said.

   "I'm not going to that thing. I'm just the hired help," she said.

   "No, you are the mother of Graham Luckadeau's daughter and yes, ma'am, you will be attending and helping with the plans," he said.

   "Annie is Julie Donavan's daughter and don't you forget it."

   He reached out and moved toward her at the same time. One hand touched her face, the other cupped her chin. He moved in for the kiss and she tilted her chin slightly. He tasted iced tea with a bit of lemon and chocolate. Not a bad combination.

   His tongue traced the outline of her lips and glued her to the floor. She wrapped her arms around him and leaned in.

   She tasted tea and that bite of yeast bread he had popped into his mouth while he was talking to his family. Not a bad combination.

   Julie wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer, tasting more, deepening the kiss until steam shot out of her ears, the passion was so intense. Was there a lock on the door and would those witches in the kitchen miss them if they stayed gone half an hour?

   Griffin sucked on her lower lip and got the full benefit of the kiss. He wished there was a lock on the door and no children or relatives in the house. Living without her after kissing her would be pure hell, he decided just before they broke away.

   "What was that all about?" she asked the moment his lips left hers.

   "It was about a damn fine kiss," he said and stood up. "I'll see you in the kitchen."

   When he was out of the library, she touched her lips. They were still on fire and she wanted another one. Griffin was right. It was one damn fine kiss. The best damn kiss she'd had in all of her thirty-four years, and she would have liked for it to have been more than a damn fine kiss.

"YOU GET THAT STRAIGHTENED OUT?" MELINDA ASKED Griffin when he waltzed into the kitchen as if nothing had happened.

   "I did."

   She patted the chair beside hers. "Good. Now let's you and me and Momma sit down to the table and plan this year's party. We've already called in a band to play the dance and we use the same caterer every year. Barbecued everything that don't move, along with beans, cole slaw, corn bread, and every kind of cheese cake under the sun."

   "Julie, you take that chair, I'll pull up another one," Griffin said as she sauntered in.

   Melinda shot him a mean look.

   "I'll go play with the children a while," Julie said, then wished she could take the words back because Griffin's bitchy sister would count that as a feather in her hat for sure.

   "I'm askin' you to come join us and put your two cents into the pot," Griffin said.

   She walked over and sat down. She touched her lips again and hoped they didn't look as bee-stung as they felt. How in the hell could one kiss turn her insides to a quivering bowl of Jell-O? Derrick's kisses had been nice, even passionate at times, and she'd enjoyed them. Graham's had been hot and fiery and sent her hormones on a roller coaster ride. But when Griffin's mouth touched hers, it was as if her soul had come home. Later, when she was alone, she'd think more about it, but right then she wished that bitchy sister and mother would disappear and she could cart that sexy cowboy to a bedroom and do more than just kiss him until she couldn't catch her breath.

   That idea brought her up short. She didn't live in the nineteenth century where a woman didn't kiss a man until she was married to him and damn sure didn't have sex with him until after the vows were said. She lived in the modern day world… but by damn, she refused to fall for Griffin Luckadeau. There would be too many obstacles in the course from start to finish—beginning with his sister, who was shooting daggers at her—and she didn't have the energy to conquer them.

   "Griffin, I understand that you are angry because we didn't open up our arms and be all sugar and sweet to Julie," Melinda said. "But remember we've lived through Dian. Not to mention that schoolteacher that almost led Beau to the altar and bankruptcy at the same time. Or how about that witch Slade dated back before Jane came along? We are willing to get past our prejudice, but this is a family thing. It's our sale, not Julie's."