Place Your Betts (The Marilyns) (24 page)

No wonder Mrs. Smith was so bitchy. She was starving, but clearly not to death because her pudgy body was stuffed into a red Donna Karan knockoff dress set. She was the apple from the Fruit of The Loom. Thank God she and her skinny, whipped husband weren’t staying for dinner. The T-bones and baked potatoes would have sent her over the edge. Then again…Betts smiled. Death by butter would have been fun to watch.

Betts glanced at Gabe. Twice she’d caught him staring at her, and both times he smiled and didn’t look away. Was it a thawing of the ice or a show for the Smiths?

And he’d kissed her. It had been tender and loving. What was that about?

“This wine is just divine.” Marva Ann giggled. She was on her fourth glass. “I didn’t expect fine wine on a…farm.” Her tone suggested that the farm could give Chernobyl a run for its money as the Earth’s most toxic place to live.

Betts stabbed the toast points with a butter knife, slid them on a plate, and bit her tongue to keep from pointing out that grapes were grown on a farm. She stepped out from behind the new chocolate granite counter she shouldn’t be using because the glue wasn’t dry. What were the odds the counter would accidentally fall on Marva Ann?

“I’m glad you like it.” Betts looked up. Gabe and Chester were head-to-head, deep in discussion over something, and ignoring Mrs. Smith.

Gabe had showered, changed his clothes as fast as he could, and had come out to entertain his guests. Betts appreciated that his manners dictated that he not leave his guests long.

If only Betts could.

Marva Ann rocked back and forth on one of the new brown leather barstools a couple of times and finally managed to hoist her body upright. Pink Lady Marva weaved her way into the kitchen. “I must know where you got this wine. I adore it.”

Betts’s cheek muscles ached from smiling. “Napa.”

After many years of promotional appearances, she’d perfected the art of smiling while talking.

“Which vintner? Chester and I go every year.”

Whup-tee-do.

“Backstage Vineyards.” Betts picked up the bottle and topped off Marva Ann’s glass.

“Don’t you own it or know the person who does? I remember reading something about that.”

Betts cut up more cheese and stacked it next to the butter-less toast pieces on a red square plate. “Yes. I own a very small percentage. My first tour manager retired and opened the vineyard.”

Carlos Gambone was the father she’d lost when Uncle Lee had died. Fronting the money for his vineyard was the least she could do.

“Chester darling,” Marva Ann slurred and turned to her husband. “Betts owns the vineyard where this delicious wine came from. I bet she could get us a private tour.” The apple swayed a bit as she turned back to Betts. “Would you mind?”

“Love to. Just tell me when you’d like the tour, and I’ll have my assistant arrange it.” Betts picked up the plate and the wine bottle and walked to the sofa. Not surprisingly, Marva Ann followed the wine bottle like a dog after a bone.

The front door opened. Kaitlin, followed by Tom, stepped in the living room.

Marva Ann saluted them with her glass. “I guess the farm tour went well. I hope you didn’t get too dirty.”

Kaitlin stared at the floor. “Nope. I’m fine.”

“She’s a great help, Mrs. Smith. She fed the chickens and brushed one of the horses.”

Betts jumped in before Marva could comment. “I bet y’all are hungry. Help yourself to some cheese and meat. Or next door there’s some cookies I made this morning.”

“Kaitlin doesn’t eat cookies.” Marva Ann’s nose wrinkled like Betts had offered the girl a hit off a crack pipe. “She’s got to fit into her homecoming dress. A moment on the lips, an eternity on the hips.”

By the size of Marva’s hips, her lips had spent some serious time in the company of donuts, cheeseburgers, and gallons of ice cream.

Betts bit her tongue.

The girl looked mortified. With a mother like Marva Ann, Kaitlin was bound to spend most of her life mortified. Betts’s heart melted. No wonder Kaitlin had kissed Tom in the third grade—he’d given her junk food.

Tomorrow, Betts would make her special chocolate layer cake and force-feed it to Kaitlin.

Gabe tugged on Betts’s hand, got her attention, and winked. “Tom, would you mind taking the Mustang into town to check the tire pressure? The left rear wheel looks a little low. Maybe Kaitlin would like to keep you company?”

Betts studied him. Had he seen Kaitlin’s embarrassment and was sending her away to spare her feelings? Compassion wasn’t something she’d experienced from Gabe in a very long time. He was different tonight…laid-back like he’d been when they’d first met. The house remodel had seemed to ruffle his feathers when he’d gotten home, but after the kiss, he’d been different. She glanced down at his feet. Worn, brown work boots and not purple cowboy boots. Maybe he hadn’t seen them?

Kaitlin grinned with relief. “I’d love to. I was hoping I could talk Tom into helping me with my physics homework. We have a test tomorrow. Is that okay?” She turned to her father.

Marva Ann frowned. “I don’t know—”

“Sure thing.” Chester spoke over her.

Betts felt like high-fiving him. Way to grow a set. Chester wasn’t as spineless as she’d thought.

Betts tossed Tom the keys. “There’s some cash in the glove compartment if you need gas money. I think I’m kinda low. Why don’t you buy your girl some dinner too.”

“Thanks.” Tom opened the door for Kaitlin and followed her out.

Marva Ann was whispering and gesturing wildly at Chester. He appeared to be paying attention, but with the vacant expression on his face, Betts couldn’t be sure.

“You have cookies.” Gabe’s breath tickled her ear. Her nipples went hard. His mouth was an inch from her ear. An hour ago, that mouth had reminded her of why she’d fallen in love with him.

Gabe draped an arm over the sofa back and played with her hair. “About those cookies.”

Why was he acting this way?

Betts shook her head. “One-track mind.” The flirting seemed over-the-top for cookies.

“Not exactly.” Gabe wound a strand of her hair between his fingers.

The light tugging from his finger made her scalp tingle. He’d always loved her hair and had his hands in it.

Gabe pulled the strand under his nose and sniffed it. “Peaches, just the way I remember.”

He grinned down at her and traced her cheek with his finger.

Betts inched away. “Are you feeling okay?”

Gabe leaned into her, making up the inch she’d taken. “Never better.” He nodded to the Smiths. “How much longer do you think they’ll be at it?”

“There’s no telling. If she drinks any more, he’ll have to carry her out of here. That should be interesting, considering she outweighs him by a good fifty pounds.” Betts did her level best not to relax into his chest even though it would feel pretty damn good.

“Think they’d notice if I ran next door and got the cookies?” Gabe was wearing the lopsided, boyish grin that always melted her heart.

“If you think you’re leaving me alone with these two again, you’ve got another thing coming. Play nice until they leave, and you get a T-bone and cookies.” Betts stuck out her hand. “Deal?”

“Deal.” Gabe took her hand, but instead of shaking it, he laced his fingers through hers and held it. She waited for the jolt of lust, but only calmness filled her. Would the same sense of security and belonging still be there if they’d been married these last seventeen years?

This was her place and not just an echo of the past. The seed of longing in her soul grew into a wanting ten times stronger than that of her teenaged self. This should be her life.

“Where did you two meet?” Marva Ann’s eyes zeroed in on the handholding.

Betts plastered on her smile. “We’re old friends.”

Silence.

Betts didn’t feel the need to expound on that. Unlinking her hand, she picked up the wine bottle and poured the last few drops into Marva Ann’s glass and then leaned forward, replacing the bottle on the coffee table. Her butt vibrated, and she jumped. Betts pulled out her iPhone and walked to the kitchen for privacy.

“Hello.”

“Listen, Betts, it’s Kaitlin. My parents will stay all night unless you make them leave. Tell my mom you have something really important to do and that you need to go.”

“Like what?” Betts was at a loss.

“Tell her you have a conference call with the President of…I don’t know, France. Or tell her you need to call Prince Charles. No, wait, she loves him. On second thought, stick with France. She hates the French because they eat butter. That will get her out of there faster than anything.” Kaitlin sighed. “Sorry about her.”

No one understood an embarrassing mother better than Betts.

“Honey, no need to apologize. Go have fun and I’ll take care of the home front. Wanna come over for dinner tomorrow?” Betts was determined to provide Kaitlin a safe haven full of sugar and butter.

“Sure. I’d love to. Good luck.”

“Thanks for the advice. I’ll get right on it. See you tomorrow.” Betts pressed end.

She stepped back into the living room.

“I’m so sorry, but I need to go. That was my assistant reminding me that I have a conference call with the President of France in ten minutes.” Betts waited for someone to ask her why she needed to talk to the President of France, but there was only silence. She looked down at Gabe. “Are you ready to translate?”

Helping him escape was the least she could do considering his performance tonight.

His eyes twinkled, and his grin got bigger.

She kicked him lightly on the shin.

“Oui.” Gabe turned to the Smiths. “Why don’t we walk you out? I’m sure Betts wouldn’t mind running next door and getting a bottle of wine for you to take home.”

“Great idea.” Betts made a break for the door. She scampered across the yard, up the stairs into her trailer, grabbed two bottles of wine, and ran back outside. Hopefully she’d be rid of the Smiths in the next five minutes.

“Here you go.” She handed the bottles to Marva Ann.

“This is so nice of you. I can’t thank you enough.” Marva pulled Betts into an awkward hug. Betts did her best to touch as little of the woman as possible.

Chester opened the door for his wife and practically pushed her into the seat. He buckled her in, closed the door, and walked around to the driver’s side.

Marva Ann rolled down the window and waved the whole way down the driveway.

“Bye, Marva Ann, may you have one hell of a hangover.” Gabe placed his hand on the small of Betts’s back. Gently, he pushed her toward her trailer. “Need some help with dinner?”

“Um…sure.” It dawned on Betts that they were alone. And Gabe hadn’t mentioned the house, so if he wasn’t going to, neither would she. “How are your grilling skills?”

“Slightly above average.” Gabe continued to touch her as he looked around. “Where’s the grill?”

The heat from his hand warmed her from head to toe, and their alone-ness swirled around her. Would they have a repeat of the other night?

Please.

“See that small, black control panel?” Betts pointed to a box right above the rear wheel. “Flip the cover and push the first button. The grill slides out from that compartment in front of the wheel.”

“I think I can do that.” Gabe dropped his hand and headed toward the grill. He fiddled with the box, pushed the button, and the grill slid out quietly on ball bearings. “Cool.” He lifted the lid and inspected the stainless steel grill. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about the house.”

The hair stood on the back of her neck.

“I couldn’t be that lucky.” Betts put one foot on the first step and looked back at him. Gabe was smiling, and his demeanor hadn’t changed.

“I can’t decide what’s more fun… A fight so we’ll have some making up to do or taking the high road and being magnanimous. Then you’ll owe me. What do you think?” Gabe fiddled with the knobs.

Of all the scenarios she’d played out in her mind, this calm version of Gabe hadn’t appeared in one of them. “There’s always plan C. Say nothing now and retaliate when I least expect it.”

“Interesting option. Could work. Only now, you’ll be on your guard. That defeats the purpose.” Gabe lit the grill and closed the lid.

“True, but I can’t be on my guard twenty-four seven. Gotta sleep sometime.” Betts stepped inside the bus and then leaned her head out the door. “There’s another option. You could thank me profusely and give me bathroom privileges for life.”

Because she was staying for life. One way or another, this was her home.

Gabe cocked his head to the left and crossed his arms. “Red, do you really think that’s gonna happen?”

Her old pet name spoken with fondness gave her the roller coaster stomach tingle. She put her hand to her belly.

How could she not love him?

She rubbed the knotted muscles at the back of her neck. Shaking her head, she walked to the refrigerator and pulled out the steaks.

Betts unlatched one of the windows and pushed it up. “How hungry are you? I have four steaks marinating. Should we cook them all?”

Gabe sat in her folding chaise lounge. “I could eat a horse.”

“Okay.” Betts slammed the window down and latched it. She could handle being in love with Gabe, but she wouldn’t settle for one-sided. This time they would be on equal ground.

She balanced the steaks, two ears of corn, a dish of asparagus, and two beers. With her hip, she knocked the button, and the door whooshed open. She was an adult. She could handle love. No pining away for him this time. “Here you go.”

Betts dumped everything on the small marble counter next to the grill. “Oh, I forgot the baked potatoes. I guess we don’t have time to cook them.”

“Think we have enough food? You never know when an army might show up.” Gabe grinned.

“Too bad about the potatoes. I was looking forward to eating Marva Ann’s share of the butter.” Betts balled up the plastic wrap covering the steaks. Keep busy, act normal, figure out what the hell to do later. 
Fake it until you make it
had always worked in the past. She could fake normalcy until it became a habit. “That woman is a piece of work. I’ve never seen anyone who could dole out that many backhanded compliments.”