The Other Brooks Boy (Texas Wildfire Series) (2 page)

***

Cara slumped
into the chair opposite her mother-in-law, Barbara, who had come ahead to their
favorite Italian eatery in west Austin to get a table after the recital Sunday
evening. The place was packed, as usual.

"Thanks for
coming to get us a table. The wait can be long on weekends, and I'm absolutely
famished," she told Barbara.

"I'll bet
you haven't eaten a thing today, have you?" Barbara fussed. Once a mother,
always a mother. Even if she was a mother-in-law.

"I did. I
had breakfast. But that was a long time and lots of nervous dancers and stage
mothers ago." Cara usually loved what she did, but owning a dance studio
on recital day was the dues one paid for that privilege.  Dealing with
twenty-six hormonal teen-aged girls and their mothers was enough to send darn
near anyone over the edge.

The waitress
approached. "Hello. Can I get you something to drink?"

"Oh, hi.
Yes. I'd love a glass of your house cabernet," she said, her hands,
measuring in mid-air as if wrapped around a large goblet indicated how much she
wanted.

The waitress
smiled. "One extra-large glass of house cab. Any wine for you, ma'am?"
she asked Barbara.

"No, thank
you, dear. I'm fine with the tea," she said, her hand patting her
half-empty glass.

"Sorry you
had to wait so long. Etta and I had so much to do. I thought we'd never get the
dressing rooms picked up and back to rights," Cara told her, noting the
half-empty glass. It was clear Barbara had been there a while.

"It's fine.
But where are my grandchildren?"

"I'm not
altogether sure," Cara answered, and began digging through her purse in
search of her cell phone. "They were riding from the high school with
Greg, but they had to drop Maddie's friend, Bella by her house first. Maybe I'd
better call to see what's going on. I expected them by now."

"Oh, here
they are now," Barbara said, waving at the late arrivals coming in at Cara's
back.

Seventeen-year-old
Maddie sat down beside her mother and brandished a bouquet of yellow tulips
under her nose. "Look what Uncle Greg brought me," she said, her eyes
bright, her smile proud. "He said he couldn't tell my ankle bothered me at
all."

Cara knew it to
be a bit of a fudge, but wasn't about to let on. "Oh, Maddie, how pretty.
I love tulips. And these are a beautiful color." She caught Greg's eye
across the table where he'd sat down beside his mother and sent him a sweet
thank you smile.

"She
deserves them. You did a great job today, Maddie," Greg told her.

"You did do
a good job, Mad," Ryan added, seating himself on the other side of his
grandmother.

Cara sent him a
smile, too, for supporting his big sister. They were close, thank goodness. Cara
relied on them to take care of one another these days. She tipped her imaginary
cap at him, a reminder to remove his ball cap in the restaurant. At age
fifteen, things like that slipped his mind, but he did as she directed and ran
a hand over his newly shorn head.

All the females
at the table reacted to the brand new buzz job with wide eyes and a comment or
two.

"Wow.
That's the shortest you've ever cut it," Cara said, looking him over good
and trying to decide if she liked it or not. Usually, his summer buzz made him
look younger, but this year, for some reason it added age to him. Suddenly, he
looked all angles and jaw and Adam's apple. Like a man. It gave her a jolt in
the belly to think of him growing into a man so quickly.

"That's
hot, Ry," Maddie told him.

Ryan smiled
proudly. "That's what the girl who cut it said, too." He wagged his
brows and leaned forward to smile conspiratorially at his uncle sitting on the
other side of his grandmother.

Greg nodded.
"She did. I heard her," he confirmed. "I don't know what you
girls see in that. He looks like a meat head to me."

Ryan took a swat
at Greg's shoulder with his ball cap behind his grandmother's back, but Greg
caught his cap easily and won the battle prize after a short tug-of-war. Ryan
laughed and reached for it again, but Barbara grew uneasy between the warring
factions and settled them down with a hand on Ryan's arm, a piercing gaze on
her own son beside her. "Chill," she said to them both.

Maddie laughed.
"Nana said, 'chill'. Too cute. I have to text Bella and tell her,"
she said, already typing said text on her omnipresent phone.

The waitress
brought Cara's wine and took orders for the others. Talk continued about
Maddie's performance and Ryan's win of yesterday. Barbara took the opportunity
to catch up with her grandchildren's doings.

Cara took a
moment to breathe, settling her weight back in her chair and closing her eyes
for a moment. It felt really good after the long, nerve-wracking day she'd
spent directing the recital.

"You
tired?" Greg asked her quietly.

She opened her
eyes. "I am." It was a rare admission. Being a pleaser by nature, her
usual response was more on a positive spin. But this was Greg. Solid as a rock,
always there when she needed him, no demand Greg. It felt okay to be real.

"Recital
means you're finished for summer, right?"

"Mostly.
There are several girls I teach privately along with Maddie. And we hold a
cheer day camp for incoming middle-
schoolers
in late
July. But that's only one week," she said.

"One mad,
loud, drama filled week, I would imagine." His expression told her he
wouldn't want to be a part of that for love or money.

"Oh, for
sure," she said with a laugh. "Nothing but drama with middle school
cheerleaders." Something quiet and unspoken passed between them, a look of
us against them,
an attitude that Cara appreciated more and more every
day. She sometimes felt guilty for relying on Greg so heavily for help with her
kids, but he never complained, never hesitated, and often showed up at events
or even her suppertime table without an invite, and was always welcome. He was
her go-to guy for all sorts of issues, and she knew she was darned lucky to
have him. She sent him a sweet smile and a wink, just because he was so
handsome sitting there with his green eyes and dark hair, and a set of broad
shoulders a girl could easily lean on. 

Barbara told
them all about a Single Seniors cruise she planned to take over the summer with
several of her friends. "We're calling it the Golden Girls' Getaway
Cruise," she with a twinkle in her eye. "Maybe I'll meet a
hottie."

Maddie squealed.
"O. M. G., Nana. That is hilarious!"

Ryan closed his
eyes and shook his head in denial that something of that nature might even
cross his grandmother's mind. Cara and Greg shared a chuckle at his expense,
but Cara knew a moment of something like loneliness. Seemed like everyone had
plans for the summer except her. Maddie was traveling to New York for a summer
intensive dance training at The Julliard School for three weeks, and Ryan would
be attending several ball camps over the course of the summer. Barbara was
sailing in search of an octogenarian hottie. Cara's partner Etta was packing
for Florida, and even Greg was getting away. It was Wichita and corn-fed plow
boys, she reminded herself. But still.

"Hey,
speaking of singles. I have a favor to ask of you," Greg said.

"What's
that?" Cara knew she'd say yes before he even asked. It really didn't
matter what he asked. She owed him like no other.

"I've got a
black tie fundraiser for the university in a couple of weeks. I'm chair of the
committee, but I have no hostess for my table. It's a big muckety-muck affair.
I need someone to class me up a little. Would you consider rubbing elbows with
the rich and entitled for me?"

Her summer
outlook brightened a bit. "Maybe. Black tie, huh?"

He nodded.
"Yeah, this is straight up stuffy. Big money."

"You could
wear my prom dress, Mom," Maddie suggested. "Maybe you'd meet some
rich guy."

Cara swiveled to
look at her daughter, surprised by the first ever suggestion that Cara move on
with her life after Jason's loss. Ryan frowned his displeasure at the thought,
but Cara wasn't surprised by that at all. He was less ready to let go of his
dad than any of them.

"That's a
pretty dress, Maddie, but your mom should buy something new for herself,"
Barbara said. "When is the last time you bought something dressy and new
like that?" she asked Cara.

"Oh, gosh.
It's been a while. Jason and I didn't do much black tie socializing."

"Yeah, Dad
did all his fun stuff like that on the road," Maddie said, drawing another
curious assessment from her mother for her unusually sharp tone of voice in
regards to her father. But Maddie kept her nose in her cell phone, texting
incessantly, instead of meeting Cara's gaze.

"Well,
regardless of what I wear, I'm happy to hostess for you," she told Greg.
He smiled his thanks, but she put a hold on his expression with a stipulation.
"But I have a favor to ask in return."

"What's that?"

"Our class
reunion. It's the weekend of our birthday ... and I don't want to go alone.
Were you planning to go?" Cara and Greg shared a birthday and usually had
a family celebration to mark the day in mid-July. Last year they had skipped
the party in light of Jason's recent death, but this was a big one for them
both.

He looked like
he'd been pinned over a barrel. "Hadn't thought much about it."

"Well, I
think you should. In fact, we should go show them all how good forty can
look." She shot him a sexy little grin across the table for enticement.
"Besides, I think everyone in the family but us is going to be gone on
their fabulous summer trips." She looked down the table at the others.
"Right, guys?" The others nodded.

"I felt
badly about booking my cruise over your birthday weekend, but it was the only
time they were holding the single seniors cruise. I had no choice,"
Barbara said.

Cara scoffed.
"Stay here and have some birthday cake, versus going to find a hottie on a
cruise?" She laughed. "No contest, Barbara. None whatsoever."

"I'm glad
you feel that way," Barbara said.

"So see?
It's just you and me," she told Greg. "We're on our own for our big,
fat birthday this year. Say you'll take me to the reunion." She knew it
wasn't fair to wheedle so much, but she hadn't done anything fun in such a long
time. And it was bound to be a rough stretch of weeks with both the kids and
Barbara out of town.

He sent her a
look back across the table that said he was none too happy to be held ransom
like that, but it was tempered by something else ... indulgence, maybe, shining
in his eyes. She thought it looked pretty handsome on him.

"Come on,
Gregory," she cajoled, knowing it rubbed for her to call him by his full
name. She was about the only one he allowed to do so, and he usually retaliated
by calling her 'Caroline', something she didn't much enjoy, either. It was
their inside joke ... one of about a dozen between them. "Let's go see
who's lost their hair and gained a beer belly. Let's show 'em what forty
can
be."

Something
changed in his look as he let her grovel a little more. She couldn't have
called it by name, but it was there, in his eyes as he looked at her, assessing
... hungry. And it gave her a perverse little thrill to see it. He studied her
for a minute more. Finally having exhausted her repertoire of begging, she
canted her head to one side and tried a little flirt with her eyes.

It seemed to
reach across the table and sucker punch him. He reeled, then raised one eyebrow
at her. "I give," he said. "You're too persuasive, by
half."

Well, good. At
least she still had a touch of sex appeal. Actually, it felt pretty darned good
to get it out and work it a little, she decided. Good deal. She now had two
things to look forward to. Summer was looking up.

***

He should have
pressed the point and picked her up himself. Not that she was actually late. In
fact, she wasn't due at the event center for another fifteen minutes, but Greg
had been eagerly watching for her for at least fifteen minutes already. He
couldn't say why he was so suddenly edgy about tonight. It wasn't as if this
was an unusual type of gathering for him. As Assistant Athletic Director for
the university, he routinely attended these fundraising functions and all
manner of soirees. Most of them bored him to the bone, but it was all part and
parcel of the job description. He went from hobnobbing with the über rich to
helping recruit the sometimes knuckle-headed athletes who didn't have sense
enough to be unleashed from momma's apron strings. It was enough to give a guy
social whiplash, his job. So tonight was nothing new. He couldn't account for
the tension he felt in the back of his neck and his eagerness for Cara to
arrive. He'd owe her one after this. She was saving his hide by acting as his
hostess tonight.

He leaned one
shoulder into a marble column in the foyer and relaxed some, reminding himself
there was no way in hell she'd arrive late, or inappropriately dressed, or
anything else one might consider a social misstep tonight. That just wasn't
Cara.