CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
The first guests for the MacKenzie’s annual picnic and rodeo began arriving around eleven in the morning. A party rental company had set up three large tents earlier to provide shade not only for the guests but also for the band that was in the process of setting up to entertain everyone with eighties rock classics. The food was set out on a long banquet table, and as people arrived, they added their dishes to the offerings. Nearly a hundred people stood in groups, laughing, smiling, and talking.
I found myself standing alone when several of the guests and family moved as one big group toward the front of the house. Most of my focus was on Mack and the jeans that hugged his amazing rear end and the black T-shirt that stretched across his thick back. He had his best cowboy hat on today, a light cream color with a thin black band around the top. Just looking at him had me going warm in all the wrong ways and in all the most inappropriate places. This picnic was going to last forever with him there torturing me like that, just out of my reach . . . the perfect male, so close and yet so far.
I took a deep breath to calm my libido down a notch or two. That was all I could manage with him looking like he did today. It was going to be a helluva long picnic.
A huge Cadillac that looked like it was built in the sixties drove up to the front gate and idled there for a moment before going all the way through. Curious, I wandered over, keeping my distance from the MacKenzie clan and the many townspeople who’d already arrived. The driver’s door opened and then shut, but I didn’t see an actual person getting out. It wasn’t until she made it up to the front of the car that I realized why.
“Grandma Lettie, I presume,” I said softly into the empty air around me. Maeve and Angus fawned over her, and she accepted their hugs and kisses with some of her own. She stood less than five feet tall and had wispy bluish-gray hair that floated around her head like a cloud. Ian took the car keys from her and moved the huge vehicle off to the side, parking it out of the way.
The group of welcomers moved with her in my direction, and I shifted off to the side to give them room to get by. Mack was carrying a big oval pan with a lid on it that had come from her trunk, and I could tell by the way his muscles were bulging under his T-shirt that it was heavy.
As they drew near, Maeve leaned down and spoke in her ear. The older woman’s head shot up and her eyes searched the area until they landed on me. She pointed with a bony finger in my direction, and the whole group shifted trajectory, no longer headed toward the banquet table, but toward me instead.
My heart began beating faster, and sweat beaded up on my lip. I quickly swiped it away and stood as tall as I could before she got near. I felt like I was going before the appellate court judges with a crappy case file in hand and no pants on.
“Who’s this young lady?” she asked when she was about four feet away, her watery blue eyes taking my measure. Her expression gave me no clue as to what she was thinking.
I held out my hand and stepped forward. “I’m Andie. It’s nice to meet you.”
She took my hand in a surprisingly strong grip and squeezed. “Nice to meet you too. I hear you’re part of the family.”
My heart stopped for a few seconds and then raced to catch up. “Ummm . . . yes . . . I guess I am.”
I could feel Mack’s gaze burning into me, but I kept my eyes locked on the old woman. Her baby-blue housedress matched the white cardigan over her shoulders and white patent-leather, low-heeled sandals perfectly. Her hair had obviously been done special for the occasion. Even though she wasn’t much bigger than a hobbit and had more wrinkles than a year-old raisin lost in the back of the pantry, she was still intimidating as hell.
“How do you like it here so far? I was told you’ve been here a few days.” She kept a grip on my hand, so I did the same with hers, not wanting her to feel like she was hanging on to a dead fish. I kept my fingers wrapped softly around her delicate, birdlike hand, marveling in the strength I could sense there.
“I’ve been here two days, actually, and I like it a lot. It’s gorgeous here.” I wasn’t shining her on either. The beauty that Maeve had spoken of on my first night was obvious to me now. I would miss it greatly when I left.
“This place gets into your bones and never lets you go.” She continued to hold my hand as she turned. “Come on over here with me, and show me what you’ve done.”
“What I’ve done?” My voice went up an octave, and I wondered if she was talking about what I thought she was talking about. How does she know about me and Mack?
“The food, darlin’, the food.” She gestured to the banquet table covered in dishes with foil on them. “What’d you make? What’s your specialty?”
I breathed out a sigh of relief. “Oh, I didn’t make anything. Maeve did it all.”
“Don’t you cook?” She looked a little bit outraged, and it was hard not to smile at her reaction.
“No, not really. I never learned.”
“Well, what about your mother? Didn’t she cook?”
I shook my head, not trusting myself to speak. My mother didn’t do a whole lot of anything other than act as a human punching bag for life’s biggest losers, but I wasn’t going to tell Grandma Lettie that. I had a feeling she’d ask why my mother hadn’t cut their testicles off.
“Not everyone comes from a family of great cooks, Grandma,” said Mack, setting her dish down on the table. “Maybe you can teach Andie a few things.”
“Sounds like I’m going to have to,” she said, once again focused on getting to the table. She took careful steps, but they were solid. I had a feeling she didn’t need to hold onto me, that she was just keeping me close so she could conduct her interrogation.
I glanced at Mack to find him grinning at both of us like he was enjoying some inside joke. I stuck my tongue out at him, but that only seemed to make him happier.
“Lift up the lid there,” she ordered, pointing at her pan.
I did as she asked. The only thing visible inside was a big hunk of aluminum foil.
“That there’s a beef brisket. Best one you’ll ever taste, guaranteed. I don’t mess around when it comes to brisket.”
I nodded sagely. “I can see that.”
She looked up at me with a frown. “I don’t see how, since it’s covered in the tin foil like that.”
Ian snickered behind me, but I ignored him. “But I’ve heard. So I can imagine what it looks like.” I smiled and nodded.
“You ever eat brisket?” she asked.
My smile fell off. “Uhh . . . no. Can’t say that I have.”
“Then how are you able to imagine it if you’ve never even seen one?”
“I’m creative?” My face went red as Ian busted out in guffaws.
She grinned at me, revealing perfect dentures. “I like you. You’re sassy.”
I grinned back, relief washing over me. “I like you too. You’re kind of sassy yourself.”
She cackled. “You’re dang right I am. Life’s too short to be sickly sweet all the time, don’t you think? Like that aspartame. Nasty aftertaste. Bah.”
I nodded. “Absolutely. I like the real stuff. Sugar all the way for me.”
She let go of my hand and squeezed my arm. “Good. You and I are going to get along just fine.” She teetered in a circle and faced the clan. “Now which one of my grandsons are you here with? It better be one of my boys and not that Boog person, I’ll tell you what.”
Boog’s mouth fell open while everyone else laughed. I dropped my gaze to the ground, too embarrassed to answer her question. Mack stepped up beside me and put his arm around my shoulders, pulling me against him firmly. “She’s with me, Grandma. She’s here with me.”
Grandma Lettie looked at both of us critically for a few seconds and then nodded. “Good enough.” Then she faced the crowd. “Boog, get me a chair, will ya? My feet are tired. I went to a barn dance last night and stayed up ’til one a.m. Now I’m too pooped to piddle.”
Boog walked away grumbling, but he grabbed a chair and dragged it back anyway. I wandered away with Mack as others closed in on Grandma Lettie, standing around her like she was visiting royalty.
“Well, that was interesting,” I said, the feeling that I’d just dodged a bullet soothing my frazzled nerves.
Mack took my hand and led me back over to the food table. He reached inside the big pan and removed some of the tin foil from the top. “This is what a beef brisket looks like.”
I stared down at the hunk of brown meat. “Oh. It looks . . . boring.” I didn’t know what I’d been expecting, but this sure seemed like very little to get excited about.
He laughed and then spoke in a soft voice. “Don’t you dare let Grandma Lettie hear you say that.”
“I wouldn’t dare,” I whispered back. “She scares me.”
Mack leaned in like he was going to kiss me, but I drew back.
“What? I can’t kiss you?” He looked hurt.
“No, you can’t kiss me, you fool. This is not happening.” I pointed to him and then me. “We are not happening.” It felt horrible to say it, but it had to be said. The longer we played at being a couple, the harder it would be when I left. And I was leaving, papers signed or not, tomorrow.
“Bullshit it’s not happening. It very much is happening.” His good mood was quickly evaporating.
“Please don’t make a scene,” I said, glancing back at his grandmother.
“You’re the one making a scene,” he said, his tone going soft again. “I’ll tell you what . . . Just give me one kiss, and I’ll leave you alone. Otherwise I’m going to harass you all day.”
I eyed him suspiciously, pretending to hate the idea but secretly thrilled to know he would kiss me in front of his family. “One kiss and you’ll leave me alone for the whole picnic?”
“No. For fifteen minutes.”
I feigned outrage. “That’s not fair!”
“Well, if you want to do more than just kiss me, that could buy you more time.” He moved his eyebrows up and down suggestively.
I elbowed him in the ribs, smiling the whole time. “Go away, horn dog. No blow jobs at the family picnic.”
He gestured to a big tree with a stack of rocks next to it. “There’s a nice little hiding spot over there. We just have to be real quiet. And I wasn’t talking about blow jobs. I have other things planned for you.” He leaned in really close and whispered in his best wicked voice. “That’s why I bought you a dress and not shorts.”
My eyes bulged out of my head. “Stop! Someone’s going to hear you.” My face turned bright pink, and a chill rushed over my skin, goosebumps coming out to reveal my physical reaction to his suggestion. I could picture him down there with my dress pushed up to my waist almost like it was already happening.
He put his arm around me and leaned in again. “Come on. Stop torturing me. One kiss. Fifteen minutes. Take me up on the deal now before I change the terms.”
I stood on tiptoe and gave him a quick peck on the lips, pulling away before he could prepare or react.
“Oh, no way,” he said, grinning like the devil he is. “That doesn’t count.”
“Yes, it does.” I tried to hold back my grin and remain serious. “You didn’t specify a certain type of kiss.” My heart was ready to explode with the joy of just being stupid with him.
Then I heard a car door slam shut over by the front of the house and remembered that Bradley could come rolling down that dirt road and show up at any minute. The joy that had just threatened to overwhelm me dissipated into the hot air around us, leaving behind frustration in its wake. Some evil part of me instantly became angry at Bradley for forcing my hand like this. Maybe I’d get lucky and a semi-poisonous snake would bite him if he tried to come interrupt this day—but only the kind that would send him to the doctor and not actually kill him. Half a second later, I was overcome with guilt for almost wishing that on him. He was just doing what Mack would have done in the same circumstances. I am such a terrible person. How have I fallen so far in such a short period of time?
“What’s wrong? Why aren’t you smiling anymore?” Mack tried to move in closer. “It’s because you didn’t get any tongue action, isn’t it?”
I shook my head, forcing thoughts of Bradley to leave my head. Until he showed up or I went back, I could pretend those problems didn’t exist. I could do that for Mack, at least.
“No, that’s not the reason.”
“You know it is. Come on now, pretty girl. I’ll give you another chance.”
Being called pretty girl like that probably should have offended me as a strong, professional woman, but instead it warmed me to my core and made me want to go explore that little spot behind the tree. I shook my head at myself. This sexy cowboy really knew how to press my buttons and make me forget what I was supposed to be doing—namely, detaching and preparing to leave.
The sound of a loud vehicle pulling up and an even louder horn announcing the arrival of someone special distracted both of us from our silly flirting games.
“Oh, shit,” said Mack, sighing as he looked out toward the main gate. His shoulders sagged low.
“Who’s that?” I asked, trying to see the person getting out.
“Welcome to my nightmare,” he said, dropping his arm from my back and stepping away to greet the visitor.
“Hannah Banana!” yelled Boog from across the tent area as the Barbie doll beauty came from around an old beat-up truck to join the crowd mingling by the front of the house.
“Don’t call me that, Boog!” she yelled back, sounding like a country singer the way she said it. Then her face turned into pure sunshine as she noticed Mack coming in her direction.
Jealousy overwhelmed my thoughts and had me staring daggers at both of them. Where are those poisonous snakes when you need them anyway?
“Hey, Mack! Hey, Miss Maeve. How’re y’all doin’?” Hannah chirped. “Brought my blueberry tart, just like I always do every year.” She held something wrapped in tin foil up above her head like she was the Betty Crocker Statue of Fucking Liberty or something.
I tried to use pure brain power to tip the thing out of her hand and onto her head, but apparently I have zero psychic connections because nothing happened. She brought it down in one smooth maneuver and peeled the foil back to reveal the food beneath for Mack. Unfortunately for her, he walked right past her and toward his brother Ian, who was standing off to the side.
My jealous heart plumped up to three times its normal size. He really doesn’t like her! He wasn’t lying!
“It’s your favorite,” she said in a singsong voice over her shoulder, not at all dissuaded by his brush-off.
“No, it’s not,” he deadpanned. “I’m allergic to blueberries.”
“Since when?” she asked, clearly offended.
“Since the day you were born.”
His insult echoed throughout the entire party and everyone went dead silent for several seconds before the singer in the band broke the mood by working on his equipment. Even I felt a little bad for Hannah, as obvious and obnoxious as she was, when I saw her face fall.
“Mike check one! One, one, one. Mike check two! Two, two, two. Mike check three four and close the door. The door, the door. Five and six, that’s Nikki Sixx. Of Motley Crue and me and you. Mike-a, mike-a, mike-a-phone check, check, check . . .”
“We hear the goddamn microphone, okay?!” screeched Hannah, her pie trembling in her hand.
The singer banged his forehead into the microphone when he bent down and sent a squeal of feedback through the tents. Everyone either ducked or covered their ears, me included. I could still hear the ringing in my head for a while after it stopped.
Hannah turned to me when the recorded music started coming out of the speakers a few seconds later, her snarling anger going all fake sweetness and glaring sunshine in the space of two seconds. She twitched her head once to the side and then took a long-legged, high-heeled step toward me, the promise of retribution for man stealing in her eyes.
I threw my shoulders back and angled my chin up, bracing myself for her arrival.
Time to shine not burn, Andie.
And snakes? If you’re still out there? Now would be a good time to make yourselves known . . .