One Hot Summer (36 page)

“An inbreeding question. Original. Is that kind of like how Cambelle isn't really your daughter you're marrying, although she's just about that right age? Is that the sort of nastiness you're talking about?”

Laughing like Micah had told him a hilarious joke, Wynd stood and puffed his chest out. He really had that old-time miser act down pat. “Remedy, why don't you stay here with us tonight? I'm sure whatever the resort serves in their restaurant won't be as tasty as roadkill stew or whatever's on the menu over at Micah's redneck palace, but I'm sure we'll manage.”

Micah itched with the need to defend his home turf and his family, but he could feel Remedy leaning away from the conflict and see her casting longing looks at the parking lot as though she'd already gone to a happy place in her head and distanced herself from the conversation at hand. She's already pleaded with Micah to leave, so getting her away from such a disgusting display of ignorance trumped everything else.

Micah eased the pie boxes from Remedy's hands so she could hold on to him while traversing the stairs. “We're leaving now, Remedy. Got your purse?”

It took her a moment to register that he was talking to her. “Yes.”

“Then let's get out of here.”

The drive to his dad's house was quiet and tense.

“I'm sorry you had to hear all that from Wynd. He's a jerk,” Remedy said when they turned onto Micah's dad's block.

Wynd was a lot worse than a jerk, but that didn't need mentioning. Micah set a hand on her knee. “I was thinking about how sorry I was for you for the same reason. It's hard to believe those are your friends.” He gnashed his teeth together, regretting the inflammatory comment immediately.

“It is, isn't it? I thought that today, more than once.”

It was tempting to ask her why she'd want to return to Hollywood if those were the type of people she'd be going home to, but her plan to leave was already a sore subject between them and Remedy had suffered enough distress for one day. “What kind of pies are those we're bringing?”

“Cherry. From Petey's.”

“My family's favorite. They're gonna love you just for that, guaranteed.” He set a hand on her knee and gave it a squeeze, but her expression remained distant, so he dropped it.

Minutes later, they stood before his dad's two-story brick and pale blue siding house set close to the street in the heart of a sleepy residential neighborhood. As opposed to their neighbors on either side, their home boasted no trees in the yard, nor any visible in the backyard. Just grass and a cracked concrete driveway and a rusty off-road Jeep, Dad's one tribute to redneck country living that drove his kids up the wall.

“This is where you grew up?” Remedy said.

“Yes and no. My folks didn't change the layout of the house's interior when they rebuilt after the fire, but the garage is new, as is a fair amount of the dirt under that lawn. But this is the spot.”

“It's hard to imagine everything you lost in the fire. You don't have any baby pictures, for example?”

“Only the ones my parents sent to my grandparents and other family.”

He sensed the pull of sorrow tugging at her, the same feeling he'd gotten after picking her up at the resort. He wiggled their joined arms. “Don't get sad. We escaped that fire with everything that mattered.”
Even if it had cost him his mother, a few months later.

“The Jeep is a nice touch.”

He chuckled. “Don't say that around my sisters. They're always harping on Dad to get it fixed or they'll have it towed. And then he tells them if they'd stop sending the grandkids over for him to babysit, then he'd have time to work on it. But he loves those grandkids, so I think it's more about them all liking to snip at each other when the mood strikes them.”

“Kind of like you and me.”

He released her hand so he could hug her tight against his side. “Maybe that's where I get it from. Who knew I was subconsciously looking for a woman to bicker with, just like I'm used to with my own family?”

She nuzzled his shoulder with her face. He loved the way she rubbed up against him every chance she got, all curves and sweetness. “Don't forget the making up after the bickering,” she said. “That's my favorite part.”

“I would never forget that. It's my favorite part, too.” He glanced around to make sure no neighbors were watching too closely, then let his hand stray to her backside. “Doesn't look like your parents are here yet.”

Her head fell to his shoulder, not playfully like she'd nuzzled him, but as though she needed him to support the weight of her burden. “They're not coming. Something happened today that I'm not ready to talk about, and I asked them not to come.”

He kissed her hair. “Maybe later you'll feel like talking?”

She nodded, then settled her gaze on the Jeep. “I might be asking to borrow that Jeep for Cambelle and Wynd's wedding. It looks kind of safari-like, and it wouldn't be a favor to them; it'd be a favor to me.”

Micah wondered if they'd still want the wedding there, given the ballroom fire and their obvious dislike of Texas, but he wasn't about to voice that curiosity to Remedy, nor how wonderful he thought it'd be if they canceled and took themselves out of his and Remedy's lives for good. “All right, then. You know I can't say no to you, and you're soon to learn that my dad's as big a pushover as I am. Sounds like everyone's around back. Let's go.”

*   *   *

Micah's dad's backyard was crowded with people of every age, and it took a few beats for them to realize Micah and Remedy had arrived, because they were intently watching two kids dangle peanuts from fishing poles trying to lure squirrels into two clear plastic barrels that seemed to have held cheese puffs, according to the labels.

“Watch this,” Micah whispered. “Savannah and Duncan are having a squirrel-fishing race. Whoever gets a squirrel in the barrel and gets the lid on first is the winner.”

Joining in with Micah's family to watch children racing to see who could trap a squirrel first was the perfect antidote to the day she'd had with Cambelle's group and her parents. “What does the winner get?”

“Don't know. Probably just bragging rights, but that's a pretty big deal for the Garrity clan.”

Savannah seemed to be the sure bet. She had a patient touch while reeling the peanut toward her barrel, where more peanuts waited inside to entice the hungry squirrel. With each inch the squirrel chased the peanut, Remedy found herself leaning in with bated breath like the rest of the audience.

A tall, handsome black man stepped next to Remedy and nudged her with his elbow, a knowing smile on his lips. Remedy recognized him immediately.

“You must be Remedy,” he whispered.

“You must be Xavier.” She stuck her hand out, but Xavier enveloped her in a jovial hug. When he released her, Micah draped a casual arm around her shoulders and nodded his hello to Xavier.

“Where are your twins? I've been dying to meet them,” Remedy said.

“Alex has them inside. They're too young to understand the rules of squirrel fishing and aren't very good at staying quiet on command.”

“That's what Micah and Alex have both told me. Are they still teething?”

Xavier rolled his eyes, nodding.

“I love those kids,” Micah said in a whisper, “but this teething phase is getting real old, real fast.”

“Tell me about it,” Xavier said.

A kid standing in front of Remedy whirled around and shushed them. Xavier and Remedy devolved into chuckles. No wonder Micah loved Xavier so much. He was fast becoming one of Remedy's favorite people, too. She couldn't quite visualize how he and Alex worked as a couple, because Alex was so cool and distant while Xavier was all warmth and genuine kindness, but maybe by the end of the party their connection would make more sense to her.

The next moment, the crowd erupted in cheers. Duncan jogged a victory lap with his barrelful of squirrel, then released the poor thing near the downslope at the end of the maintained lawn.

“I really thought Savannah had that,” Remedy said to no one in particular.

Micah stuck his fingers in his mouth and let loose with a loud whistle of cheer. “You'll get it next time, Savannah. You can't let your cousin win all the time!” He smiled at Remedy. “She's a smart cookie. Reminds me a lot of you. Bossy as all get-out.”

“Hey!”

“But also as sweet as sugar,” he added.

She kissed his cheek. “Nice try.”

“You must be Micah's girl!” a booming male voice called out over the crowd.

The crowd hushed again; then Micah and Remedy were rushed by at least a dozen adults, and almost as many kids, all introducing themselves and pulling Remedy in for bear hugs. There were too many names for her to remember, but she tried to do her best to memorize which people were married to each other and who their children were.

They were all disappointed that Remedy's parents had to cancel, but she made up an excuse about an unexpected phone interview with an Australian radio talk show that her dad's publicist had neglected to add to his calendar. Micah would know that was a lie, though his family seemed to buy it hook, line, and sinker.

The booming voice belonged to Micah's dad, who was an inch or two shorter than Micah and with a stomach that was a few inches wider but otherwise was an older, perfect mirror to him. Bubba Senior, as the family was teasingly referring to him today, with an emphasis on the
Senior
since they were celebrating his birthday, it was explained to her.

After a hug and a kiss on her cheek, Bubba cracked open a can of beer and stuck it in her hand. “Let's toast to you putting up with our Micah here. God love him.”

“Gee, thanks, Pops.” Micah tried to extricate the beer can from her grip. “She's more of a champagne type of lady, though.”

Remedy held fast to the can. “You don't know that I don't like beer. Heck, you bought me a beer on our first date.”

“That was before I knew about…” He let his voice trail off with a flip of his hand.

“About what?” She wanted to hear him say it out loud, how many assumptions he made about her based on her upbringing. About some things he was almost as bad as Wynd or Cambelle.

He wrinkled his nose at her, smiling patiently. “About how much you love champagne. It's all you keep around your house.”

Nice save.

Alex was the next familiar face she saw. He walked her way with a friendly smile while holding the hands of two toddling brown-haired cuties. “Fancy seeing you here,” Alex said.

Remedy knelt down. “I'm so happy to finally meet these little sweethearts. Hi, Isaac. Hi, Ivy,” she said with an exaggerated wave.

Isaac only had eyes for Micah. He raised his hands and gave a grunting whimper until Micah scooped him up in his arms and whisked him away for some tickles and kisses. Ivy wiggled a few fingers at Remedy before turning bashful. With a drooly smile, she hid behind her daddy's leg.

Remedy stood again. “I see why you're in such a hurry to get home every night. You have a beautiful family.”

“Thank you. I do.”

Xavier appeared at Alex's side, an arm loosely around his waist. “And now that you're planning the weddings at Briscoe Ranch, Remedy, he's starting to remember what his beautiful family looks like again.”

“Oh, spare me,” Alex said, though his eyes glowed with affection.

“I think they're about to serve dinner, so how about you come sit with us? We'll save a seat for those two,” Xavier said, nodding to Micah and Isaac.

There wasn't a single table large enough to accommodate such a big crowd, so after everyone filled their plates from the mouthwatering spread on the kitchen table everyone gathered in clusters of chairs around a loose, uneven circle, with Bubba holding court at the head of the circle in a wide wicker chair that resembled a throne.

The brisket was to die for. She might have made some orgasmic sounds similar to those that had snuck out the first time Micah had taken her to Hog Heaven.

“Hey, Remedy,” said a woman sitting across the circle, who Remedy was fairly sure was married to Micah's brother. “Micah made us swear not to ask you about any celebrity stuff, but I can't help it.”

“Aw, geez, Connie. Really?” Micah said.

“You shut your piehole. This is between me and Remedy,” Connie said. “Now, I've got some questions about Zannity.”

There was a term Remedy could've lived her life without hearing again. She washed her bite of brisket down with a swig of beer. “What would you like to know?”

“Was Serenity really as bitchy as she came across on TMZ?”

“My lawyer advised me to never speak of those two again. So I plead no comment.” Then she cupped her hands around her mouth and whispered, “She was worse, actually. A lot worse.”

Xavier leaned closer. “What about Zander? Nod your head if he was really that big of a spoiled, rich twit as they made him out to be. Nod twice if he's even worse than Justin Bieber—which he is, if you ask me.”

Oh, he was. He definitely was. “No comment,” she said, nodding twice.

Xavier flashed her a thumbs-up.

“Okay, new topic,” Connie said. “Your father has made nine films with Spielberg. Did you ever go to the Spielberg house for dinner? I heard Steven mans the grill when they have guests.”

“Sure we did. My parents and the Spielbergs are still close.”

“Does he really grill? He doesn't have a personal chef do that?” Alex asked.

“He does it. Definitely. He and my dad are both pretty proud of their grilling skills.”

Xavier pressed a hand to his chest. “Preston Lane can cook? That silver fox just gets better with age.”

“Ew, that's my dad,” Remedy said in her best mock-offended voice.