The Short Game (3 page)

She had a minor clog. Easy to fix. I just needed to pull out the U-bend, flush the crap out, and put the pipe back.
 

As good as Tracy was at defending herself (and me) at that bar, something told me she was equally capable of doing this on her own. Regardless, I was happy to do it for her.

“How’s it going down there?” Tracy called.
 

“All right, although my phone’s digging into my hip.” I dug the thing out of my pocket. “Here, would you hold it for a sec?”

I held the phone out to her, and I felt her grab it out of my hand. I saw her feet move back to the adjacent counter, then leap up out of sight.
 

As soon as we’d come into the kitchen, she’d hopped up on the counter to watch me work. Given how short she was, watching her get up there almost looked like U.S. Gymnastics: Kitchen Counter Edition.

“I knew you looked like someone who was good with his hands,” Tracy said.

“Well, I did meet you in a hardware store,” I said.
 

“Speaking of, how’s your daddy liking his new deck?”

“Oh, he likes it just fine.” I wished I hadn’t told her that stupid lie. Now I had to keep up the pretense that not only I’d built a deck, but that my da was still alive.
 

“You must have a pretty nice place then, being so handy and all.”

I tightened the pipes one last time, then scooted out from under the sink. When I stood, Tracy and I were almost at eye level with her sitting on the high counter.

I wiped my grimy hand on the front of my jeans. “Well, I guess I better take off.”

“Don’t you want to stay for at least one more drink?” Tracy asked. “I’ve barely gotten to know you.” She hopped down off the counter. “I defended your honor and you don’t even know my last name.”

I couldn’t help but chuckle. “Fair enough. So, what is it?”

“What?”

“Your last name.”

“Why would I tell you that?” she said. “I barely know you.”
 

She opened the refrigerator and pulled out a couple of beers. “Let’s sit down in the living room where it’s more comfortable.”

Without giving me an opportunity to object, she crossed into the adjacent room and plopped down onto the couch. I followed behind her and passed up on the worn recliner to sit next to her on the sofa.
 

For the first time, I really looked around Tracy’s trailer. Most of the furniture was worn and old, but it was all kept up nicely. Not a single item was out of place. There were afghans draped over the couch and chair, and there wasn’t a single speck of dust as far as I could see. It didn’t look like a place decorated by a twenty-one year old girl. More like the home of her grandmother.

“So, you live here by yourself?” I asked.

“Yup, just me. I keep thinking about getting a pet, but I’m not a cat person and a dog’s too much work. Especially since I’m hoping to move next year.”

“Really? Where?” Was that a hint of disappointment in my voice? I needed to get a grip. I’d only known this girl for a few hours, and after tonight there was no way I was going to see her again.
 

“Baton Rouge, hopefully. I applied to LSU, and I’ll find out in a couple of months if I get in.”

“Well, good luck.” College? I hadn’t even gone to high school. I wondered what she’d think of that, before I remembered that I shouldn’t care what she thought about anything.
 

“Aren’t you gonna drink your beer?” she asked, motioning to the second can on the table.

I picked it up, but didn’t take a sip. “You trying to get me drunk?”

“Maybe a little.” She winked.

 
And that was all it took to make me lose what was left of my sense. I set the beer back on the table and slipped my hands around the back of her neck, my thumbs pressed against her jaw. I drew her face to mine and our lips crushed together. For a panicked second I thought maybe I’d misjudged the situation. She didn’t respond immediately, but a moment later her lips opened, granting my tongue access. Her kiss was just as honey sweet as I’d imagined.

I ran my thumb across her cheek, then slid my fingers down her neck and to her shoulders, across the hollow at her collarbone. I felt all the blood leave my head and rush to lower extremities, which probably explained why I wasn’t thinking.

Tracy broke the kiss and moved away. Disappointment filled my chest, but only for the second before I realized why she’d moved. In a blink she was on my lap, straddling me so we were facing each other. She grabbed my tight shoulders and looked me in the eyes, catching her bottom lip between her teeth. I leaned in to kiss her again, but she pulled her head back, making a tutting sound. She leaned in again, but instead of my mouth, her lips found my earlobe. I felt her tongue flick against it followed quickly by a graze of her teeth. The feeling of her breath hot against my neck sent an electric hum through my veins, but I wanted to feel her mouth on mine. I was desperate to taste her again.
 

Finally, after what felt like an eternity, but was probably only a few seconds more, she brought her face back to mine and kissed me. Hard this time. It was the sort of kiss that left little to the imagination. The sort of kiss that you knew meant she wouldn’t mind if things went a little bit further. Or a lot a bit further.

I kissed her back, hard and rough. I ran my hands down her slim waist and felt a groan escape from low in my throat, even though my head was too cloudy with the taste and feel of her to hear it. She reached down to my pants and began to unbutton them, shocking me back to reality.
 

I picked her up by her waist and lifted her from my lap. Tracy let me move her back to the sofa, but gave me a little pout that demanded to be kissed off her lips. Somehow, I managed to restrain myself. “I better get going.”

“Having too much fun?” she asked.

“Something like that.” Her look told me I needed to give some sort of explanation. “We just met and all. Maybe this isn’t a good idea.”

“You’re quite the gentleman,” Tracy said, though it only half sounded like a compliment.

“I try.” I didn’t. Not usually. If we were out on the road and Tracy was just some buffer girl I met at a bar, I would’ve slept with her. I kept telling myself that Tracy was different because she lived so close to the Village, but deep down I knew it was more than that. There was something different about this girl. Something that made me want to take things slow. Be respectful.
 

And I wondered why the Sheedys liked to call me a pussy.

With a half-hearted smile, I stood up and started toward the door, but Tracy’s hand on my wrist stopped me. I thought she was going to pull me to her one more time. Was sure she was going to kiss me again. If she had, I wouldn’t have been able to restrain myself a second time, but that’s not what she wanted.
 

“You forgot something.”

“Yeah?” I asked.

“You never did get my last name. It’s Manning. Tracy Manning. So let’s not be strangers anymore, all right?”

I felt my cheeks blush and mumbled, “Okay.” I turned back toward the door, but she grabbed my wrist again, turning me around once again. “You forgot something else.”

“Yeah?”
 

She held my cell phone out to me. “Wouldn’t want to forget this,” she said. “How else are you going to call me?”

“Thanks.” I took the phone from her hand, purposefully brushing my fingers over her palm as I did. “See you around.”

“See ya.” She fixed me with a coy smile that was nearly impossible to turn away from.

It wasn’t until I got to my truck that I realized I’d never gotten her number. But it was for the best. If I had gotten it, I might’ve made a stupid mistake like actually calling her.

C
HAPTER
F
IVE

“ANY WORD FROM the advisors about Shay?” I asked Maggie as she set two mugs of tea down in front of us. I grabbed my cup by the handle and took a small sip. Immediately, I felt more at ease. If one day I learned that Maggie slipped drugs into her concoctions, I wouldn’t be all that surprised. It was amazing how calm they could make you feel.

“No. Michael doesn’t want him calling back to the Village unless there’s a problem.”

“Michael” was Pop Sheedy—our clan leader. Only Maggie dared to call him by his first name. “That’s weird. Why wouldn’t he check in twice a week like we always do?”

Maggie didn’t answer. Instead she took a long draw from her mug. How it didn’t burn her throat, I didn’t know.
 

Maybe it did.

 
Ring.
Our house phone, and we didn’t get very many calls.

Maggie and I looked at each other, but neither of us moved to pick it up. She was probably thinking the same thing I was. What if the call was about Shay? He’d only been gone a week now, but who knew what sort of trouble he was getting into up in Pennsylvania. We were both too afraid to answer and find out.

Ring.
Maggie gave me one final look, then stood and picked up the phone. “Hello?” I watched her face closely. If anything happened to Shay, it’d show immediately. “Is everything all right?” She listened a short while, and the tension went out of her shoulders, then she handed me the phone. “It’s for you.” I gave her a look that asked what this was all about, but she just shrugged and shoved the phone at me.

“Hello?” I asked, no idea who’d have reason to talk to me.

“Hi, it’s Mary Costello. I have a message for you from your uncle.” Mary had been an advisor as long as I could remember. As long as Maggie could remember too, from what she’d said. I often wondered how old she was, but now certainly wasn’t the time to ask.

“And what’s that?”

“There’s been some tornados in Oklahoma, and Pop’s given him the go-ahead to find some roofing work over there, but he needs an extra hand. He wants you to meet him in Tulsa in a couple days.”

I sighed. I really didn’t want to leave the Village while Shay was away, but I didn’t want to leave my uncle in the lurch either. “I need to think about it.”
 

“Fine. But he said he’d call me back in an hour for your answer so make up your mind quick.”

“I’ll call you back in thirty minutes,” I said and hung up the phone. Truthfully, more than anything, I wanted to talk it over with Maggie, but I didn’t want to admit that to Mary.

I looked to my mam. “Uncle John wants me—”

“I heard.”

“So?”
 

“Go. You’re driving yourself crazy waiting around here for word from your brother, and you’re taking me on the ride with you. It’s not like you’re any closer to him here than you would be in Oklahoma, and it wouldn’t be like you not to help out your uncle.” Uncle John was born with one leg, a birth defect not that uncommon among Travelers. He could get around pretty well with his prosthesis, but he had a hard time climbing up on roofs.
 

Maggie was right. Maybe I should go. Uncle John was the closest thing I had to a dad. Normally I’d already be on my way to help him.
 

I think the reason I was so set on staying around the Village was that Maggie refused to tell me what was going on with Shay. I figured the closer I was to her, the closer I’d be to finding out what was going on. The fact that she wouldn’t trust me with his mission pissed me off on so many levels, but there was no arguing with her once she’d made up her mind about something.
 

I looked my mam up and down. She was wearing her nicest green dress. In fact, now that I thought about it, she’d been dressing up a lot lately.
 

Well, her version of dressed up, anyway. Most women in the Village had more sequins on their clothes than a Saints’ cheerleader, and they showed just about as much skin. But not my mam. She had far simpler tastes.
 

“Why are you dressed so fancy? You going somewhere?”

“Trying to change the subject?”

“Trying to avoid my questions?” Maggie narrowed her eyes, but I ignored it and pressed on. “Mam, seriously. What is going on with you lately?”

“I’ve just been going over to Emma Sheedy’s house. That’s all.” Emma Sheedy, one of Pop Sheedy’s daughters-in-law. She was married to Pat, Pop’s second youngest.

“Why’ve you been going over there?”

“Women issues.”

“Mam!”

“Fine. You know how she’s been sick a lot over the last few years?”
 

“I guess,” I said, although honestly I hadn’t noticed. Maggie always knew everyone’s health complaints because even though Travelers had no problem going to the doctor, the women of the Village put as much stock in Maggie’s concoctions as any modern medicine.

“She’s been having a problem with miscarriages. She’s lost five babies in the last three years.”

Wow. I had no idea. I didn’t know Emma all that well and I couldn’t stand her husband, but I still felt for them. It had to be difficult.
 

That would also explain why she hadn’t gone out on the road with her husband for the last couple of years. Women without school-aged children usually accompanied their husband for the season. I’d just assumed she hated looking at his lazy-eyed face as much as I did. Now I felt sort of guilty for those mean thoughts.

“She’s pregnant again. I’m giving her a course of treatment to support the pregnancy, and I have to go over there once a day to give it to her.”

“And you’re telling me this has nothing to do with Pop sending Shay up north?”

“Not that Emma knows.”

I narrowed my eyes at her. It was bad enough I couldn’t do anything to help out my brother without Maggie making me feel impotent at home.
 

“So maybe it’s an added benefit to keep an eye on the lass. See if I can hear anything about the Sheedy boys. Apparently, Pat and his brothers haven’t been calling back to the Village much either. I don’t like it.”

“Sounds like a reason why I shouldn’t go on the road.”

“It isn’t. You’ll only be gone a few weeks, right? Just fixing roofs damaged after some tornados? You go. I’ve got things covered around here.”