Gone Country (25 page)

“How is he? I haven’t seen him in a while.”

“The man drives me insane. I almost got into a fistfight with him.”

“What did he say that pissed you off?”

“What
didn’t
he say.”

“I thought you two were friends.”

“We were. Until we weren’t.”

Cryptic.

Rory dished up the hash browns and bacon. The toast popped up, she buttered it and sliced it before adding the eggs to the plates.

“You would’ve been an awesome short order cook.”

“Doesn’t pay as much as bartending.” She ripped off a piece of bacon. “Or a master’s degree in Ag Management.”

They dug in. Rory didn’t chatter through the meal like normal.

Once the dishes were cleared and they’d refilled their coffee, Rory spoke. “So you’re really with him.”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

Rielle squeezed Rory’s forearm. “I love you. I’m here for you. I will talk to you about anything you want. Except for this.”

“Why are you being so secretive?”

“Why are you being so nosy? I’ve never grilled you about the guys you’ve dated. So what gives you the right to do that to me?”

“Because this isn’t like you, Mom. Because I’m worried about you.”

The frayed end of her patience began to unravel. “You know what? You should’ve been worried about me years ago. When as a young woman I never went on a date, never had a boyfriend—not one man passed through my door or your life during your growing-up years. I was one hundred percent devoted to being your mother. I did a damn good job raising you. But that part of my life—seeing myself as a mother first—is over. It has been for a while and I’ve needed to move on from that. Now I have.”

Rory didn’t look up from her coffee when she asked, “What does that mean?”

“It means my relationship with Gavin is not up for discussion with my daughter.”

“Yeah, I get that having me at sixteen fucked up you having a normal life.”

Rielle slammed her coffee cup on the counter. “For Christsake, Aurora, you think that’s a fair thing to say to me?”

Her pale skin colored. “Probably not. But that’s the way you make me feel sometimes.”

“When?” Rielle demanded. “When have I
ever
acted like you were anything but the absolute joy and light of my life? Never. And don’t let your jealousy that you might have to share my affections with someone else now distort the past.”

“So you’re saying tough shit, suck it up?”

“Pretty much. You are a twenty-four-year-old woman, Rory. Your reaction to your mother having a boyfriend is ridiculous.”

Rory was completely taken aback.

“My relationship with Gavin won’t ever affect my relationship with you. Unless
you
let it. Your choice.” Rielle slid from the barstool and walked out.

An hour later, she’d reached the bottom of her pile of logs to split. Even though it was still snowing, she’d gotten so hot she’d ditched her jacket and only wore a thermal shirt.

If anyone asked, she’d blame her wet face on sweat. So what if a few frustrated tears leaked past her defenses while she was working out her aggravation.

“Ree?”

She let the blade fall before she looked at Gavin. “Yeah?”

“Is it safe to approach?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

“Because you’re in a bad mood and wielding an ax?”

She offered a sad smile. “Point taken.”

Gavin moved in closer. “You and Rory had words.”

“Did the little snot say something nasty to you?”

“No. But she shoveled the walkway. And swept a path to the garage and the barn.” He gestured to the pile of chopped wood. “Like mother, like daughter. Literally working off a mad.”

“More productive than drinking,” she said lightly.

Gavin framed her face in his hands. “Do you want to talk?”

“That’s the thing, Gavin. I don’t want to talk about my kid or yours.”

“Just what I was hoping to hear.” He tugged her hat off and pushed his fingers through her damp hair.

“I probably smell like sweat.”

“I don’t care.” His thumbs stroked her cheekbones. “I watched you out here. So strong and determined. You’re beautiful and it’s bizarre that seeing you whack the shit out of stuff turns me on.”

Rielle laughed.

Gavin fastened his mouth to hers; the kiss was sweet and steady—like a first kiss. Maybe it was the first time he’d kissed her with such exquisite tenderness. He’d shown her passion. Playfulness. Lust. He’d flirted and teased. But this soft and slow meeting of tongues showed her another side to him and another side to herself. She accepted that he could comfort her, he could offer his support and it didn’t make her weak or needy for wanting it.

Rory watched her mom from the upstairs window. Kissing Gavin. But it was more than that. Just by their body language she saw that her mom trusted him.

Before her mother had stormed off this morning, Rory had tried to get her to recognize that she was making the same mistake she had at age sixteen, falling for the first guy who paid attention to her.

Her mother’s inexperience with men scared her. This wasn’t a casual situation with Gavin. They lived in the same house. Of course the temptation would be there, but Gavin Daniels didn’t seem like her mom’s type.

Had she ever thought about the type of man her mother would be attracted to?

No. She’d spent her life seeing her mother as…sexless. Selfless. More an earth goddess than a sex goddess.

But the way Gavin had kissed her mom—
her mom
!—yesterday afternoon had caused her jaw to drop. Not only the passion between them, but the familiarity. Rory realized she didn’t know that part of her mother at all.

And when she’d demanded an explanation, she hadn’t gotten one. Which again, wasn’t how her mom usually acted. She couldn’t believe her mother hadn’t told her about one of the biggest changes in her life…well, ever.

Rory knew she was being a brat. Maybe it wasn’t Gavin specifically that she had a problem with. Maybe she was bugged by the idea of her mom being with
any
guy—and that was stupid and childish and she didn’t know what the fuck was wrong with her. She was just so…mad.

“I’m pretty sure the fiery looks of hatred you’re sending my dad won’t start his hair on fire from up here,” Sierra said from behind her.

“You’re a fucking laugh riot a minute.”

“You’re still pissed off about this?”

“Yep.” Especially after Sierra told her she’d accidentally seen them making out weeks ago.

“Come on. Can’t you at least admit they look happy?”

Rory didn’t answer.

“Or don’t you want your mom to be happy?”

“Of course I do.”

“Doesn’t seem like it.”

“Why? Because I’m not teary-eyed that she’s making out with your dad in the clearing while snow falls around them?”

Sierra snorted. “No. Because you picked a fight with her first thing this morning.”

Rory turned around, startled that Sierra nearly looked her in the eye—few women were her height. “No, I tried to have a discussion with her. But she won’t talk to me about this, when we talk about everything else.”

“You talk about
everything
with her?” Sierra asked skeptically.

“Yes. Why?”

“Because I call bullshit on that.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “In fact, I know it’s bullshit.”

“How?” Rory folded her arms over her chest, her posture equally argumentative.

“I was there last night, remember? Listening to your drunken rant.”

Ah fuck. Goddamn Jaegermeister.

Sierra wore a smug look. “Rielle doesn’t know what happened between you and Dalton, does she?”

Rory felt her cheeks heat up. “That’s different.”

“How? Did you tell your mom how many guys you’ve slept with in college? Or their names? Or whether you went into the date expecting it’d be the start of a relationship and not just a one-night stand?”

She opened her mouth. Closed it. How the hell was Sierra so freakin’ observant? She was a spoiled sixteen-year-old kid.

“You can talk to your mom about a lot of things, Rory. But you draw a line with her.”

“So?”

“So why are you so pissed off that she’s doing the same thing with you? Do you really want explicit details about what sex is like between her and my dad?”

“Eww. No!”

“Then what is your fucking problem?”

“My fucking problem is him,” she lied, embarrassed to tell her the real issue. “He’s going to hurt her.”

Sierra rolled her eyes. “Assume much? And don’t give me that crap about him being a—” she made quotes in the air around the word, “—McKay.”

“He is what he is.”

“You’d think you were a West with the big chip you’ve got on your shoulder about the McKays.”

Rory’s eyes turned shrewd. “Maybe there’s validity in the Wests’ point of view. Seems the McKays screw everyone over.”

“The point is, you assume that my dad will screw your mom over. But you know what? I’ve never thought for a single second that your mom might be a gold digger.”

“Why would you even say that?”

“Because my dad has money. Your mom doesn’t. Maybe
she
seduced him.”

This girl was on some serious crack. “That’s bullshit. My mom is
not
like that.”

“Yeah? And my dad is not some asshole heartbreaker.”

They stared at each other.

“So much for our agreement last night to stay out of it,” Rory said.

“I tried to, but you won’t let it go.”

“Fine. I’m done. So is that why you’re following me around this morning? To be all smug and shit?”

“Following you around?” Sierra snorted. “As if. I tracked you down to make sure you were still gonna bring up that thing before you left.”

Rory played dumb. “What thing?”

“That thing we discussed last night where you tell my dad that he’s retarding my social development in Sundance by not letting me drive? Remember?”

“Vaguely.”

Sierra looked annoyed. “Don’t be a dick, Rory.”

“All right. But remember you told me I could say it however I wanted—”

“I never said that!”

“Yes, you did.”

“Was that before or after you told Dalton—”

“What’s going on?” Gavin asked sharply.

When had he snuck in?

Of course Gavin gave
Rory
the evil eye, not his precious Sierra.

“What’s going on? We’re about to demonstrate our favorite cage fighting techniques. Sierra was bragging about a couple of illegal moves and I called her on it.”

“My money is on Sierra.” He flashed his teeth. “I wanted to talk to you about—”

“Last night?” Rory supplied. “Fine. Sierra was my designated driver. And since I don’t have a curfew, I wasn’t ready to leave at midnight. Her lateness is my fault.” But she wouldn’t apologize for it. “However, during my chat with your daughter, I found out a few things that concerned me more than her missing curfew.”

“Such as?”

“Such as why you’re basically keeping her a prisoner out here. You’ve lived here almost three months? And you haven’t taken her to the Golden Boot? Or to Ziggy’s? Or to the Twin Pines? The only reason she went into Dewey’s was to sell raffle tickets with Marin. Those are the hangout spots for everyone in this town, even teenagers.”

Gavin studied Sierra but she was picking her fingernails.

“You don’t know what high school is like in a small town. I do. Most kids in her class have been in the same class since kindergarten. They won’t welcome her with open arms because she’s new. But any time she brings it up—asking when she’ll finally get to drive—you shut her down. I don’t know if you’re dangling her car as some sort of reward, or not letting her drive as some sort of punishment, but the truth is she’s being ostracized…because of you.

“She goes to school and she comes home. That’s it. She’s been to three football games. She’s not in any school clubs. You don’t belong to a church. How are the kids supposed to get to know her when the only time they see her is at school? And you scheduled a family party on the one night of cheerleading tryouts so she couldn’t even do that.”

Gavin wasn’t glaring at Rory; his sole focus was on Sierra. He crossed the room. “Sierra. Sweetheart? Can you look at me please?”

Sierra raised her head.

“Is what Rory’s saying true?”

“Yes.”

Gavin looked baffled. “Why didn’t you say anything to me before now?”

“I did! Last week and
every
week. But you never listen to me. You think every time I bring it up it’s only about me driving and it’s not. Since we moved here we hardly ever do anything. We cook here. We watch movies and TV here. We don’t go out to eat and we used to go out all the time in Arizona. We used to go out and do things. You don’t even let me go grocery shopping with you anymore. You work from here. It’s like you’ve become a hermit and you expect me to be one too. It’s not fair.”