Sweet Texas Kiss (Sweet Texas Secrets) (11 page)

He glanced at the numbers on the lockers, and a pit formed in his stomach when he realized they were the two that he and Tori had used their sophomore year at Sweet Ridge High. The place they met up between classes, where they made weekend plans, where he gave her advice on all the stupid guys she used to like, and where he comforted her when their family dog, Checkers, died. The momentary insanity of his protectiveness toward Macy slipped away against the backdrop of the lockers. He’d let his guard down, and who wouldn’t? He’d spent more time with Macy in the past twenty-four hours than he probably had in all the time since senior year, but the facts remained the same. “No, it’s nothing. I don’t know why I’m here.”

“You were worried about me.” She grinned, looking cute, but she was nothing but trouble. “Admit it.”

“No, I wasn’t. Really. If there’s anyone in this world that I don’t have to worry about, it’s you. I have to go. I have patients to see.” He pushed the door open. “One you hit with your car, in fact.”

Without looking back to see how his words hit her—but damn, he hoped they stung—he stepped into the sunlight. It was immature, and a low blow by any means, but she brought out the worst in him. Seeing Macy, especially at their alma mater, brought him back to the most humiliating moment of his life. He’d lost, she didn’t play fair, and there was nothing he could do about it.

• • •

Macy stood at the smudged glass door, one hand resting lightly on the metal bar. Part of her wanted to push it and follow Gavin outside to finally have it out with him, but the other part knew that wouldn’t get her anywhere. The hallway filled with noise as the kids poured out of the music room and left the school, their footsteps and voices echoing off the walls. Mr. Procter closed the door behind them and watched until the last teen had left the building.

“Thank you so much for coming today, Macy. The kids got a real kick out of seeing you, and I’m sure you made a difference.” He tucked his reading glasses into the front pocket of his short-sleeved, button-down plaid shirt.

“It was fun, but I don’t know how much of a difference I made in one short visit.” Yet given the chance, she’d do it again. The kids’ reaction to her was exhilarating, giving her the spark of excitement about music that had been missing.

“You’d be surprised. Kids this age eat up experiences, and I’m sure they’ll remember it for a long time.” He stopped by the trophy case, fiddling in his pants pocket for keys.

“Well, then, I’m glad I came. It reminded me of when I used to want to be a music teacher. I can see why you’d spend your time on this program now that you’re retired.”

“It’s time well spent. Anything I do for the kids is rewarded tenfold. They’re a good group.” Mr. Procter looked tired but happy, and Macy noticed for the first time how deep the wrinkles bracketing his eyes were and how his hair was more salt than pepper. “Listen, if you end up staying in town a little longer, we’d love to have you come back.”

His words hit her like a punch in the gut. It was too late. For the most part, she enjoyed her life in Nashville, judging for the show and watching singers’ dreams come true. With any luck, she’d squeeze more meaning out of their experiences and find some peace, but it wasn’t ever going to be anything like what she’d just felt in the old music room. Hell, she couldn’t even sing anymore, so her future had shrunk to putting on a happy face, offering encouragement, and watching privileged suburban kids whose parents had spent truckloads of money on private voice teachers and image consultants go through the rounds on her show. For most of them,
America’s Next Country Star
was little more than a stepping-stone to a recording contract, and she was nothing more than a cog in the entertainment wheel. Her time as an artist was over. Visiting Mr. Procter’s group again would probably do nothing more than drive home the fact that she’d thrown away the life she wanted after one selfish, shortsighted moment at a party in Nashville.

But she couldn’t confide that to her old mentor. She’d been gone too long for that, too.

Instead, she smiled brightly, hoping he couldn’t see her pain. “Thank you, I’d like that very much.”

Gavin returned home from work that evening exhausted but knowing that his evening would be anything but relaxing. With any luck, he’d made Macy uncomfortable enough that she’d remain holed up in the bedroom and leave him to unwind with dinner and television. He checked Merle’s water and food dishes, surveyed the refrigerator for dinner ingredients, and uncapped a bottle of water. The refrigerator door slammed closed when it slipped out of his hand at the sight of a wet-haired Macy standing ten feet away, wearing the shortest shorts he’d ever seen on a person and a tight, vintage Willie Nelson tour T-shirt.

She crossed her arms protectively over her chest and jumped back. “I didn’t know you were home yet.”

Without makeup and with her hair hanging in loose waves around her face, Macy was disappointingly gorgeous. All his life, Gavin had wanted to be married, have a family, build a life with someone, preferably in this very house. Having a beautiful woman in the kitchen looking right at home as he planned dinner was too close to ideal for comfort. If she hadn’t been the one person standing between him and his dreams, he’d own up to how much he’d like to slide his hands under her shirt, or how her wet hair would feel between his fingers. Instead, he kept those thoughts to himself and arranged his expression into one of neutral disinterest.

“Obviously.” What next? He didn’t want to encourage too much friendliness. “How was your visit with Mr. Procter?”

Her face lit up, a brief moment of joy so beautiful it reminded him of when they were kids. “It was amazing. The kids were awesome, so much more mature and thoughtful than I expected. It was a good visit.”

“Did you check your purse to make sure you still had your wallet when you left?” It was again immature, but knocking the wind out of her sails a bit made him feel better. He’d be mature when she was gone.

She rolled her eyes. “Is everything about me a joke to you? The kids were great, the afternoon was great, the only bad thing about it was having to come home to you.”

He took a long sip of water from the bottle. “You didn’t have to.”

“If you hate being with me so much, you should get out of my house.” She turned and stalked away, stomping through the living room and up the stairs.

He didn’t want to watch her as she left, but somehow he wasn’t able to tear his eyes away from her retreating form. Fortunately, he didn’t give in to what his body begged him to do and blindly follow her; he would’ve tripped over the cowboy boots she’d left on the floor. Did this woman know how to pick up after herself?

Loud music blasted from her room upstairs after she slammed the door. Seriously, it was like living with a teenager. There was no way she played music that loudly when she was home alone.

Silence—cold, lonely silence—was the norm for folks who rattled around in five thousand square feet of bedrooms and living rooms by themselves.

• • •

The next day, Grayson slipped into the seat opposite Gavin in the booth at Sweet Ridge’s popular new lunch spot, Praline Park Café. The midday crowd noshed on salads and sandwiches, happily chatting, highlighting the fact that the Cooper brothers were alone in their troubles. Gavin absentmindedly tapped the envelope of photos from his father’s safe-deposit box as he scanned the menu.

“Hey,” he greeted his brother. “I haven’t ordered anything yet. I wasn’t sure if you wanted to try the guacamole here.” The Cooper family made it their mission to sample guacamole whenever the opportunity presented itself, a tradition going back to childhood. It was the only way to make sure that Guac Olé produced the best dip, and if they ever tasted one that was better, they made a family game out of figuring out why.

Grayson laughed. “I’ve had it here, and it’s nothing compared to ours. I’ve been working out a way to branch into commercial services, and part of my proposal is compiling a list of restaurants in town where Guac Olé dips would fit best. This place is on top.”

“I’d think most places around here would be open to it.” Gavin scanned the menu, trying to decide between a cheeseburger and a club sandwich. When the waitress approached, they both ordered the café’s signature own vanilla rose iced tea.

“I agree, but I won’t be happy until I get things in motion. Unless they’re making it in-house as some kind of specialty or prepping it tableside, I don’t see why any local restaurant wouldn’t want to serve our dip, so it seems like a no-brainer. Once I get every place in town on board, I’ll start a new list of avenues we can explore to get Guac Olé on every table in Texas, and then the country. Honestly, though, until I figure out how to get my shares back from Becca, it’s a little harder to be as enthusiastic about it.”

“Yeah, going from the brink of owning the whole thing to not even owning a single share sucks. Makes you wonder not only what Dad was thinking, but if all the work leading up to now has even been worth it. He had to have known that a big part of the reason you’ve always been so invested in the company was that you knew you’d own it someday.”

The waitress returned with their iced teas, and they each ordered the café’s colossal cheeseburgers. Grayson took a sip of his drink and sank back into the vinyl cushion lining the booth. “Believe me, I’ve thought about sending out résumés more than once this week. I didn’t make Guac Olé my entire life to lose it all like this. If I’m going to just work somewhere, it could be anywhere. I feel like a fool for carrying on like nothing has changed, when it’s clear that I’m completely replaceable. And by a floor supervisor with no marketing or upper-management experience, at that.”

Gavin put the envelope of pictures on the table. “I Skyped with Gage last night and sent him copies of all the pictures. I can e-mail you the scans, as well, if you like. He’s going to try to make arrangements to meet with Charlotte Wilkinson, who sounds like a real piece of work, and maybe we’ll have some answers soon.”

“Maybe Charlotte is the mystery woman. Then we can at least put together some of the pieces and start to figure out what Dad was thinking.” Grayson slipped the pictures from the envelope and flipped through them, carefully considering the details of each before moving on to the next. If only the pictures and their dad’s request for Gavin to pick them up made more sense. It felt like he was trying to explain the sudden changes with the inheritance, but there were no answers. And the token gifts remained a mystery, as well. Grayson’s strawberry charm had nothing to do with losing the business, Gage’s key hadn’t opened anything they’d tried yet, and Gavin still had no idea what the glasses were for. Their father had been an up-front and open man with them all their lives. What had changed?

The waitress delivered their burgers, refilled their drinks, and left them to enjoy lunch. The burger hit the spot, the perfectly cooked patty melding with melty cheese and crisp toppings to momentarily distract him from the family’s troubles. If the mystery woman in the pictures was Charlotte, they’d know that their dad was motivated by romance. The problem with that theory was that Gavin couldn’t recall Dad ever mentioning Charlotte’s name. For such a personable and well-regarded man, Jack Cooper had surprisingly few romantic relationships in the years after his wife’s death.

Well, Gavin would root for Gage to convince this Charlotte to sign over his land, but Grayson probably had the best chance of the three of them of getting his originally promised inheritance. Surely, he could make Becca an incredible offer for her shares, and he’d be back on top. She had no experience in running a company, had been living on a floor supervisor’s salary, and would likely be thrilled to be bought out. Only he would have trouble remedying his situation. He had been too cold to Macy to hope that she’d relent and let him buy the house. She got under his skin, catching him off guard and making it impossible for him to keep his cool and strategize. And being under the same roof with her meant that he had to be on guard, keeping his old attraction to her in check while trying not to let his anger toward her for her role in Tori’s death take over.

Things would be so much easier if she’d just go back to the hotel.

“I stopped in to pick up donuts from Betty Lou, and she said she saw you and Macy together.” Grayson dipped a crispy fry in the restaurant’s house-made honey mustard-barbeque dipping sauce and popped it in his mouth. Grayson picked up donuts from Betty Lou’s any chance he got. The Cooper boys couldn’t get enough of Betty Lou’s famous donuts now that they were free to pop into the diner whenever they wanted. They never got to go to Betty Lou’s when they were kids, as much as they’d begged their parents. Dad had declared that the family needed to cut costs and dug in his heels about skipping small extravagances like diner donuts, which seemed like a lame excuse to Gavin at the time. But in the Cooper family, Mom and Dad were the bosses and there was no arguing once they laid down the law.

“How’s that going?”

“It sucks. She’s staying at the house, and she won’t leave. I can’t get away from her. And as though it’s not bad enough to have her living under the same roof, I’ve seen her in town every day since we ran into her at Silver Spurs. It’s ridiculous, like every time I turn around, she’s right there.”

“Have you thought about just coming out and asking to buy the house? It’s probably too bold to try to get her to just sign it over, but don’t you think she’d sell it for a reasonable price? I mean, there’s no way she wants to commute to Nashville, and I doubt she wants to quit her job. I know she has to wait the twelve months, but maybe you could rent it from her in the meantime.”

“I doubt it. She wanted me to move out, but I convinced her to let me stay, and I haven’t exactly been welcoming. It’s so hard to be cordial to the woman who owns the house that should belong to me, and with our history, I’m having a hard time wrapping my mind around even seeing her again. I wouldn’t be surprised if she held on to it, even if she never sets foot in town again, just to spite me. I’m probably going to have to move out, so I may need to start looking at real estate.”