Seeing is Believing (8 page)

Brady kissed her on the cheek and sank into the chair next to her. “You think every book you read is crap, but you keep reading books. So I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Smart-ass.”

The weight of her stare fell on him hard. “So what’s new in Cuttersville?” he asked.

“Just the usual. Your aunt has a new boyfriend she met on the Internet. She’s all atwitter because he’s five years younger than her, but I think she’s lying. Or more likely he’s lying. The man is sixty if he’s a day. Nicole Platner got divorced. She was your age, right? Abigail Murphy is having a baby.”

“Oh, yeah?” Abby had been his girlfriend his senior year in high school, and while it shouldn’t surprise him that a peer was procreating, it was jarring.

“About time. She’s been married seven years. We were all starting to think she was missing a uterus.”

Brady laughed. “Maybe they just wanted to wait.”

His grandmother made a sound of dismissal like that was the stupidest thing she’d ever heard. “So what’s life in the big city like? Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.” Brady drummed his thumbs on his thighs. “And I got laid off from my job three days ago.” He shrugged, wanting to give the impression it wasn’t as big of a deal as it really was. “The economy, you know.”

His grandmother gave a sharp nod. “Well, we all know the economy sucks donkey dicks, but I’m sorry to hear that. Did they give you a severance package?”

Leave it to Gran to say it like it was. He couldn’t help but laugh. “Donkey dicks about sums it up. I just get what was left of my vacation and sick days. About three weeks’ worth of pay.” The thought had his ass cheeks forming a fist. He was fucked. “I’m thinking I’m going to have to break my lease because there’s no way I can afford my rent, and jobs just aren’t that easy to come by. Not in three weeks. Not in marketing.”

“So you came home.” Gran nodded, like this made complete sense to her. “You can look for a job in Chicago from here with no expenses. Makes sense.”

That hadn’t exactly been his plan. He hadn’t really had one. But now that she said it, it did make sense. He could stay with family and look for a job. Most companies would be willing to do a first interview on the phone. Maybe he could even get a part-time job here while he was surfing online for a real job. “So can I stay with you? I don’t think Shel has the room.”

“Hell, no, you can’t stay with me. I like my space.” She crossed her ankles. “I haven’t lived with anyone since Shelby moved out fifteen years ago, and I’m not about to start now. Besides, I host my book club here on Mondays and belly dance on Thursdays. Then Richard and I have a standing date on Saturdays.”

Brady stared at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding me? You’re letting your own grandson be homeless because you have some dude named Richard over for meat loaf? That ain’t right, Gran. I’m not going to cramp your style, I swear.” Nor was he going to reflect on the fact that his grandmother had a more active social life than he did.

“Don’t get your panties in a wad. I’m not going to let you be homeless, though I should, given that you couldn’t be bothered to come home once in ten years. But I won’t. I just meant you can’t live here with me. But you can stay in the blue house I own over on Swallow Street. It’s vacant right now.”

Brady sank back in his chair, relieved. He hasn’t realized how much he’d been wanting a bailout of some sort. His grandmother had always owned a number of properties and he was glad one was tenant free. “Okay, cool. Thanks. Does it have furniture?”

“No.”

Great. He was going to be living in an empty house while he watched his bank account shrink. Well, it gave him three weeks anyway. Three weeks to figure out what the hell he was doing with his life. Because when the money ran out, he was going to have to make some tough choices about his apartment back in Chicago. He bit his fingernail, wondering how long it would realistically take to find a job. Word on the street was six to nine months. If that were the case, he might just find himself back in Cuttersville for the duration. It was really the most affordable option. Hell—only option. “Do you think I can get a part-time job here? Maybe do those ghost tours or something?” Even if he made a few hundred bucks while he was there, it would help him pay for the gas back to Chicago.

The seriousness of his situation started to dawn on him. He had no savings to speak of and he still owed a year’s worth of payments on his car. Sweat broke out in his pits, and his hands went clammy.

“Shelby hasn’t run those tours in years. She’s too busy since the twins came along. And while there was a spike in business after Darius Damiano had the Murphy house on his TV show, the last few years haven’t been very lucrative for tourism here. I guess every ghost gawker in the Midwest has already checked us out.”

Well, shit. “Is there a cell phone store or something I can work at?”

“You should talk to Boston. He’d be more helpful with that than me.”

Reality was definitely sinking in with
Titanic
-like speed, and it bit the big one. He was going to be living in his grandmother’s vacant house on Swallow Street. This wasn’t exactly where he had pictured himself at thirty-one years old.

“By the way, the house needs cleaning up. In exchange for free rent, you need to paint the main rooms on the first floor and redo the landscaping out front.”

Seriously? He guessed it was only fair, but at the same time, he felt like he was being fleeced just a little by his own grandmother. “Fine. But you supply the paint.”

“Of course. So Shelby says you’re sniffing around Piper Tucker.”

Brady sighed. Was this worth free rent? He wasn’t sure. It didn’t help that he
had
been sniffing around her. He’d sniffed
and
buried his bone. “I am not sniffing around Piper. She was at Shelby’s last night babysitting. It was a coincidence.” That he happily took advantage of. “But what would be the objection to me dating Piper, by the way? Shelby acted like I was a convicted child molester.”

“Piper is Danny’s daughter.”

Well, that was stating the obvious. “It’s kind of insulting, you know. I’m getting the message loud and clear that no one thinks I’m good enough for Piper. If I were interested. Which I’m not.” He was offended. So maybe he was a thirty-one-year-old unemployed guy living at his grandmother’s, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He had charm. He was nice enough. He worked hard. Sort of. And he had good biceps. Brady reached for his gran’s drink, suddenly feeling the need for fortification. He took a big swallow and choked. “Holy shit, Gran! That’s whiskey.”

“Of course it is. I’m diabetic. I can’t have all that sugar in lemonade anymore, so I water it down.”

“Except whiskey isn’t water.” Brady coughed again. The burn fed down into his lungs. “Christ. That’s whiskey with a shot of lemonade.”

“Oh, don’t be a wimp. And no one is saying you’re not good enough for Piper. But you have a life in Chicago, and she deserves the right man for her.”

“Who, Gandhi?” There was no man who could live up to the ideal they all seemed to have. He suddenly felt sorry for Piper on top of his personal irritation. She was going to have a hard row to sow when it came to dating. There wasn’t going to be much approval for any man she chose.

“I thought he was dead.”

“Speaking of dead people.” Brady turned in his chair so he was facing her better. “Did you know I have the same name as the dude who was murdered in the white house? Rachel’s fiancé?”

“Sure, I knew that.”

Of course she did. “And you never bothered to tell me?”

“Why does it matter?”

“Well, why do I have the same name? Was he a relative? Was I actually named after him or was it just a coincidence?”

“He’s like a great-great-great-great-uncle or something like that. As for your first name, I don’t know if it was intentional or not. Your mother was a twit. It seems a little too with it of her to be aware of ancestors’ names, but there’s no telling. Ask her.”

That figured. “I haven’t talked to her in twenty years, Gran. You know that.” His mother had left her family when Brady was two years old for a man who had wound up in prison for the dumbest crime ever. He had robbed a bank after giving his license to the teller for a legitimate withdrawal. Brady’s father had remarried, and while Brady got along just fine with his stepmother, he and his father had always butted heads. His contact with his mother had dwindled to nothing when he’d entered middle school, and Brady had no idea where she was at this point.

“Well, like I said, she was a twit. Your father was blinded by her boobs.”

Ugh. Brady didn’t want to think about it. “I could do without knowing that.”

Gran shrugged. “She had a nice rack. It was the only thing she had going for her. I smelled loser from the minute I met her. But don’t worry, you’re nothing like her.”

That was reassuring.

Chapter Six

JESSIE STRITMEYER WATCHED HER GRANDSON LEAVE
with a curious eye. So he’d been laid off from the so-called fancy job he’d been bragging about having for years. She was glad. He’d never been happy in that office, and she knew it. She could hear it in his voice every time she talked to him on the phone. He wasn’t the kind of man who liked to be stuck in a cubicle like a chicken in the nesting coop. Brady had always been what his stepmother liked to call a free spirit. Jessie knew that was just code for someone who liked to make their own damn rules.

Brady wasn’t meant to live in a congested city. He was meant to be back home, with his family, carving a living out of something artistic, something on his own terms. She knew this as surely as she knew the damn dog from next door would be in her yard later, plowing his paws through her dusty miller and mums. Little shit.

If losing his job was what it took to bring Brady home, Jessie was all for it. She just hoped his ego wasn’t dented too deep. Men had fragile egos. She also knew what it would take to keep him home—a woman. There was a reason he was thirty-one and he’d never even come close to marriage. It was because he needed to meet a local girl, not those yoga-mat-carrying city girls.

Piper Tucker was actually perfect for him. She would ground him, make him want to stay put. That girl had eyes so huge that no one could resist wanting to help her, be kind to her. She was like a cocker spaniel begging for a treat. Plus, she wore her heart on her sleeve, and Brady needed to be hit over the head with it or he’d never notice it.

Shelby seemed to think Brady was intrigued by Piper. Jessie didn’t know how the girl felt about it, but Piper didn’t appear to get out much. Surely Brady would seem enticing to a girl who spent all her time with snotty five-year-olds.

Her cell phone, which was sitting on the wrought iron table next to her lemonade, rang. “Hello?”

“Mrs. Stritmeyer? This is Piper Tucker. How are you, ma’am?”

Well, well. How was that for a coincidence? “I’m just fine, Piper. How are you? Those great-grandkids of mine behaving themselves?”

“Oh, yeah, they’re great. We’ve been out at the farm all day.”

“Good, good.” Jessie crossed her ankles and waited for Piper to cough it out. She wasn’t calling out of the blue for her health.

“So, I’ve been thinking about getting a place of my own and my mom suggested I talk to you and see if you have any properties available.”

Even better. “Sure. I have a two-bedroom house. Since you’re family, in a manner of speaking, I’ll give it to you for five hundred a month. How soon were you looking to move?”

“As soon as possible. It’s time for my own space.”

That was code for wanting to get laid on her own terms. Jessie understood that. It was exactly why she’d told Brady he couldn’t live with her. She was used to her Saturday-night special with Richard and she didn’t want to let go of it. “I understand, dear. You can move in October first. Or, if that’s not soon enough, you can move in now, but just so you know, Brady is going to be staying there for a few weeks painting and cleaning up the yard. If sharing the place temporarily with him doesn’t bother you, I’m fine with you moving in tomorrow. I won’t charge you until the first of the month. Or if you want to skip the security deposit, you can help him with the painting.”

Float the balloon, let them grab the string. That had been a strategy that had served her well over the years. And it would tell her loud and clear exactly how Piper Tucker felt about her grandson.

There was a pause that lasted about three heartbeats then Piper said, “I can help with the painting. That’s no problem. And the yard work. But I can wait until Brady goes back to Chicago to move in. I don’t want to . . .”

“What, dear?” Jessie smiled. The girl sounded like a Dickens urchin staring into a pastry case and saying she wasn’t hungry. Her longing was palpable.

“Bother Brady. But I can certainly help with sprucing the house up. Thank you so much, Mrs. Stritmeyer. I really appreciate it.”

Jessie smiled. She was right again. As usual. Piper Tucker wanted her grandson, and Brady was never one to pass up a pretty skirt.

If all went well, he’d have her knocked up by Christmas.

If Piper was maybe getting the raw end of the deal with Brady, well, Jessie wasn’t going to worry about it. Her priority was her family, even when they were idiots. Well, except for Brady’s mother. But she wasn’t blood. And anyway, it wasn’t like Brady was a bad catch. He just wasn’t necessarily the freshest. But Piper could throw some breading on him and he’d grill up just as nice. There was a lot of potential there.

Jessie put her e-reader down. She was suddenly hungry for catfish. Maybe she could hit the Busy Bee Diner for lunch. Manipulation worked up an appetite in her.

* * *

AMANDA LAY IN BED WITH HER BIG, STRONG HUSBAND
and pouted. Her leg draped over his, she said, “I can’t believe Piper just decided to move out. Just like that. Sayonara, Mom and Dad. See ya. Wouldn’t want to be ya.”

She knew it was the right thing for her stepdaughter, to have her own space, her own social life, but it still sent a pang through her heart. She was going to miss her. Piper had made Amanda a mother, and she was used to her constant, quiet presence.

Danny sighed, his hand resting lightly on her backside. “It had to happen sooner or later, I reckon. But yeah, it caught me off guard. But we still have a couple of weeks before she moves out, and she’ll be in town nice and close to Shel and Boston so they can keep an eye on her. Plus she won’t have the drive to work in the winter. I do worry about that, and now she’ll be five minutes from the school.”

“What prompted it, do you think?” Amanda trailed her fingers over Danny’s chest and worried. It had been so sudden, Piper just announcing she was moving out, that it made her feel like something was wrong.

“I don’t know. She is twenty-four. Maybe Daniel Logan hitting puberty made her feel old. Or maybe it’s the smell in his room. It’s like wet dog and old cheese in there. It’s disgusting.”

It was. There was no denying it. Her sweet little baby boy had sprouted armpit hair and an attitude. “I don’t think that’s it.”

“Well, you could ask her.”

Amanda rolled her eyes in the dark. “Why are you always so damn logical?”

“One of us has to be.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“I saw that.”

“How could you see that? It’s pitch-black in here.”

“Because I have tiger eyes.”

She laughed. It still amazed her how much she loved this man, and how content she was on the farm. They had traded houses with Danny’s parents when Jack was born, to give them more room, and Amanda loved lying in the four-poster bed in their bedroom with the window seat, the soft breeze wafting in through the window, bringing with it the scent of her lavender plants. Danny had thought she’d gone overboard with them, but if three were pretty, wouldn’t thirty be even prettier? It wasn’t like they didn’t have the space.

This was her home, the place she had found herself. So had Piper. Amanda just couldn’t imagine the farm without her.

“I’m going to miss her,” Danny said, his voice tight. “But this isn’t about us, hon. It’s about Piper. Maybe she just needs to spread her wings a little. I guess we should be proud we helped her regrow her wings, because when she came to me, they were clipped tight.”

“I know.” Amanda kissed his shoulder. “You’re a good father.”

“You’re a good mother. And a hot one to boot.” He smacked her ass.

Normally that was a good indicator that friskiness would follow, but Amanda was still too distracted to take the bait. “I feel this huge emptiness inside me.”

“I have something I can fill it with.” He placed her hand on his erection.

Really? Not that she was surprised. He was a man, after all. “Pervert.” As if she really minded. She had to say she was pretty pumped that after all these years and kids, they still couldn’t keep their hands off of each other. “I’m having a moment and all you can think about is sex.”

“That’s because it’s real simple. When women are stressed they want to talk about it for three days straight. A man wants to be distracted thoroughly so he can ignore his feelings. And what’s a more thorough distraction than sex?”

He had a point. “Maybe I could use a distraction myself.” Otherwise she might burst into tears.

“Really?”

He sounded so hopeful it was cute. “Really. Show me what you got.”

Amanda knew her husband was the kind of man who liked to rise to a challenge. Literally.

“Oh, I’ve got it. And you’re going to like it.”

He was a man who always spoke the truth.

Amanda most definitely liked it.

* * *

PIPER SAT ON THE COUCH AT SHELBY AND BOSTON’S,
a novel in her hand, and glanced at the clock on her cell phone for the sixth time in six minutes. It was almost ten and Brady wasn’t there. She hadn’t heard from him all day. Not a single peep, text, or appearance. Not that she had necessarily wanted him to show up at the farm. It would have been damn near impossible to pretend that nothing had happened between them, and her parents would have been closely watching her. It would have resulted in a very uncomfortable afternoon.

But that didn’t mean she didn’t want him to want to be where she was.

Or to at least acknowledge in some way that they had swapped spit and a whole lot more the night before.

Though how he was supposed to do that, she wasn’t exactly sure. She wasn’t a one-night-stand kind of girl and she wasn’t sure what you did the day after, though if she had to puzzle it out, she supposed you didn’t do anything the day after. Hence the phrase “one-night stand.”

But she’d thought he would feel a bit obligated to see her again, even if it didn’t involve more sex. He was staying at Shelby’s house and they shared family. They weren’t strangers who’d met in a bar.

Maybe he had found somewhere else to stay for the night, like the house on Swallow Street.

Which was highly disappointing. Or maybe he wanted to stay with his grandmother. She understood. But it would be nice if he told her, so that she didn’t have to anticipate his key in the door every time she heard the slightest noise in the house. She could give up pretending to read her book, change out of her sundress into her pajamas, and cleanse her pores. Not that he owed her anything.

Yet at the same time, “It was nice to see you” went a long way. That was it. That was all she needed. Just some sort of acknowledgment of something. That was it.

Piper shifted on the couch, annoyed with herself. Her thoughts were running in a circle and it was completely pointless. She should just put the pj’s on. She glanced at her phone. Two more minutes. At ten she would go change.

She wondered whether Jessie Stritmeyer had told Brady that she was the renter moving into the house on Swallow. Piper guessed that he was helping his grandmother out on his vacation time, which was very sweet of him. Most guys his age wouldn’t devote all their free time to tearing out an old lady’s weeds. It made her like him all the more. Not that she needed much help in being attracted to him. She did have to wonder if Jessie had told him that she was going to be at the house helping out as well, and how exactly he felt about that.

Truthfully, Piper wasn’t sure how
she
felt about it. Calling Jessie had been impulsive, something she normally wasn’t. Change wasn’t something she ever sought out—in fact, she avoided it. But standing in chicken poo with her little brother, who was not so little anymore, Piper realized that change had to come sooner or later and she might as well be the one driving the truck towards it. At least then she was making her own decisions, not reacting to decisions made for her.

Plus it had definitely occurred to her that if she ever wanted to have a sex life again, she couldn’t exactly do that while living with her parents. And she did. She really, really wanted a sex life, regardless of Brady going back to Chicago. Last night had proved that she had certain physical needs and that maybe it was time to start dating. Create a sex life for herself. Lord knew her parents had one. She had heard a thing or two she would have preferred missing many a night on her way to the bathroom.

She appreciated that until now, no one had suggested she move out. They had assumed, and rightly so, that when the time came, she would tell them. But her parents had been stunned to hear that she wanted to move out now. Not in three months, or after Christmas, or when her car was paid off. Just now, in a couple of weeks. Suddenly, with no real plan.

Yet she hadn’t changed her mind, even hearing the words out loud, or when seeing her parents’ astonishment.

A key turned in the front door. The relief she felt embarrassed her. She had put far too much stock into Brady coming back. Plus she’d been letting her imagination run away with her as she’d sat there picturing working on a house with him for three weeks, thinking things she had no business thinking.

Maybe she needed to keep her paintbrush and roller tucked away until Brady went back to Chicago, because she had a feeling that playing house with him wasn’t going to be good for her state of mind. Or her libido, if he treated her like a casual friend.