Play It Safe Page 7

  And he was clearly like the men in his family. If he was attracted to me, he had shit taste in women.

  He’d also said “including my Dad” which meant his Mom was a bad woman.

  I didn’t like that either.

  I said nothing.

  Gray kept driving.

  We made it to town and he pulled into the parking spot outside my hotel door. I already had my key out.

  Casey’s car was nowhere to be seen. He was having a very good night.

  Lucky him.

  Hand on the handle, I turned to Gray, opening my mouth to say a firm farewell and tell him he didn’t need to help me with my bag.

  He was already turned to me and he got there before me.

  “You stick around, VFW steaks tonight.”

  I stared, confused at his strange words.

  Then I asked, “Sorry?”

  “You stay another day; I’ll pick you up, five thirty. VFW, every Friday night, they do steaks.” He grinned. “This is meat country, darlin’, best beef you’ll find near anywhere and VFW steaks are the best I’ve had, bar none. You don’t wanna miss that.”

  Was he asking me out on a date?

  Definitely shit taste in women.

  “We’re leaving today,” I told him.

  “You stay, you get steak,” he told me.

  “I like steak, Gray,” I said softly. “But we’re leaving today.”

  His face changed, got that look, that gentle near to tender look and I braced.

  “Ivey –” he started, leaning toward me but I shook my head and interrupted him.

  “You know me,” I whispered.

  He leaned closer. “Dollface –”

  I shook my head again. “You know, Gray. Don’t be your Daddy. Be smart. Find a nice girl to take home to your Gran. You know I’m not that.”

  His face changed again and the “near to” part evaporated. It was all tender.

  God. Beautiful.

  I could take no more.

  I whipped around, opened the door and it creaked loud. I hopped out, shut it on another creak, hearing his creaking because he opened it. I ran around the back of the truck, leaned in, reached, grabbed my bag while I heard his door creak closed. I dashed around him, head down, hair hiding my face and went to the hotel room door.

  I had my key in the lock when I felt his body close to my back and, lips at my ear, he whispered, “Don’t, Ivey.”

  I closed my eyes but still turned the key.

  Then I opened my eyes, opened the door and shot inside.

  I closed the door on him without looking back.

  Chapter Eight

  Lived My Life for You

  Four hours later…

  “I’m in love!”

  That was Casey.

  He had his arm around me, my feet off the ground and he was swinging me around.

  This was new.

  Brand new.

  And this was not good.

  Really not good.

  As for me, I had both our bags packed and waiting by the door.

  Casey slammed me down on my feet, let me go, stepped back and I looked up at his face.

  He was beaming.

  I wanted to cry.

  “God, sis, God, wait ‘til you meet her. She’s the shit. I mean, never met a woman like her. Never. Funny. Sweet. Funny. Hot. Did I say funny?”

  “Casey –” I started and he jerked away, moving to the bags.

  “Need some money, babe. Nice dinner for my girl tonight.”

  My heart clenched.

  “Casey, we gotta go,” I told him.

  He had my bag and was walking toward the bed.

  He knew better. Our money was not in my bag. It was also not in my purse. He was due back. I’d put it in a safe place. It was tucked in my bra.

  “We’re not goin’,” he declared, dropped my bag and zipped it open. “Hundred dollars. Good wine. Juicy steak. For my girl,” he muttered, pawing through my bag.

  “I had trouble last night,” I announced and his head jerked back, his eyes cutting to me.

  “What?”

  “Got bored, went to the bar, was shooting some pool. Local guy thought he could best me. He bet me. He lost. He didn’t like it.”

  Casey grinned and straightened.

  “He lost?”

  Of course he lost. Casey knew better than to ask that.

  “Yeah, and he didn’t like it.”

  “How much he lose?”

  “Casey, it doesn’t matter. He didn’t like it. Things were hot here before. Now they’re hotter.”

  Casey rounded the bed and approached me. “How much he lose, sis?”

  “Like I said,” I leaned in, “it doesn’t matter. He came around last night, another local guy saw it go down, knew this guy was trouble, took my back. There was a commotion in the parking lot, the owner of the hotel got involved and so did a cop. He sized me up. We have to go.”

  Casey was now close but he leaned back. “A cop?”

  I nodded. “A cop.”

  “He say shit to you?”

  I shook my head. “No, but he took one look at me outside my hotel room and the guy accused me of hustling. I didn’t, the local guy who stepped up for me confirmed this but this cop is not dumb. We gotta go.”

  Casey studied me.

  Then he asked, “How much you win, Ivey?”

  I sighed, then started, “Casey –”

  “How much…” he leaned in this time, “did you win?”

  “Five hundred dollars.”

  He grinned and leaned back, muttering, “Fuckin’ awesome.”

  “Casey, really –”

  “Give me a hundred,” he lifted a hand, palm up. “No, hundred and fifty. I’m gonna buy my girl flowers.”

  I stared.

  I needed gloves.

  While Casey was carousing, to stop from being bored, I needed books.

  A man bled for me and if I was going to spend any of the money I won, it would be buying him another warm scarf. Or a hat. Or, I didn’t know, fifty candy bars. Or, maybe, sending some flowers to his Grandma who hated me then getting out of town which was what she wanted most out of me.

  Casey spending a hundred and fifty dollars on some woman, absolutely not.

  “Are you nuts?” I asked softly.

  “Yep, I’m in love.” He shook his hand at me. “Lay it on me, Ivey.”

  I shook my head. “No, Casey. Honestly, we have to go.”

  “You didn’t hustle him, cop didn’t hassle you, we’re cool and we’re solid, you got more money. We can stay another day, two.”

  God!

  My brother!

  “Casey!” I snapped, his face twisted, he took a step closer, bent and got in my face.

  “She’s special, Ivey. No shittin’ you, this one is different. I like her. You’re always whinin’ about findin’ somewhere safe, somewhere we can settle, somewhere we can take root. Maybe, you think, she’s the one, this might be it?”

  That was it. That was my brother, Casey.

  I was always whining about that, or I used to. I quit. Waste of breath.

  But I used to do it all the time.

  Stop the hustle. Stop driving here and there and everywhere. Stop keeping track of where we’d been so we could make sure to avoid going back. Stop living out of a hotel room, a suitcase. Have more than some clothes, a few books, some makeup and jewelry. Have a coffeemaker. Eat food you cooked not food cooked for you.

  He never gave in. He never wanted to settle. He disallowed connection, especially for me, with a fervor that many would think was unhealthy but, what we went through, what I went through then what he went through for me, was definitely not.

  Now, because he had found something he liked, it was a possibility.

  As for me, Mustang was exactly where I wanted to be. I knew it. It was Gray but it was more than Gray. It was Janie. It was knowing the cops in town were good cops, or at least one of them was. It was that crazy restaurant blighting the perf
ection of the town square.

  It was Gray.

  And, for Gray, I had to get the heck out of there.

  “Casey, I don’t want this to be it,” I lied.

  “I don’t care. Lived my life for you. Minute Mom squirted you out, Ivey, I’ve lived my whole fuckin’ life for you. Now, you give me a goddamned day or two, a coupla hundred dollars and you let me live my life for me.”

  I sucked in breath and held his angry eyes.

  He was not right.

  And he was also absolutely not wrong.

  I closed my eyes.

  “I’m fallin’ in love with her, sis, I feel it.” I heard him whisper.

  I opened my eyes.

  Darn.

  “I cannot give you a hundred a fifty dollars, Casey and you know it.”

  He grinned.

  “You get sixty, no more,” I said softly.

  His hand darted out, curled around my neck, he pulled me in and kissed my forehead.

  Then he let me go and smiled huge at me. “I’ll make that work.”

  Darn.

  Chapter Nine

  You Didn’t Leave

  Three and a half hours later…

  I was in Mustang Library which was diagonal to the square opposite our hotel. It was a narrow, brick, freestanding building, attractive, the number in the cream mortar declaring it was built in 1928. Walk in, half flight of steps down to basement full of shelves, half flight of steps up to first floor full of shelves and more steps to another floor full of shelves.

  As with the department store, I didn’t think Mustang could sustain a library, not one like this. But on the basement level, I heard a bunch of kids, young ones, so obviously the school did field trips there. And it couldn’t be said, perusing the shelves, there weren’t a variety of old folks obviously on fixed incomes looking for free entertainment, same with a few housewives whose husbands clearly had trouble making ends meet so the romance novel addiction couldn’t be assuaged by purchases but instead borrowing.

  I was there to borrow but I didn’t have a library card. My book would make it to my purse. I read fast and I had all night. I’d return it in the outside return tray I saw when I walked in. I wasn’t a thief, I was a hustler. But even if I was a thief, I’d never steal from a library.

  With love blooming for Casey and an indeterminate stay in Mustang, we had to be even more careful with money. This meant I couldn’t buy a book, definitely, or even any magazines which were really just throwing money away. I was not going back to the bar, no way. And if there was nothing on TV, which, from experience, there really never was, I’d need something to keep me from being bored.

  I found my book, slid it into my purse and smiled brightly and openly at the librarian as I walked out. I might not be a thief but, as mentioned, I was a hustler. To hustle, you learned what to hide and what not to hide. Game face. If you acted flakey and secretive, the jig would be up.

  I figured the same thing for illegally borrowing library books and I figured right. The librarian smiled brightly back and I took off.

  Down the block, across the street and in the square, I saw Casey heading my way, big smile on his face with a huge bouquet of flowers in his hand. More than a twenty dollar bouquet which meant it was probably thirty or even, looking at it, forty. I had no clue. I’d never bought flowers or received them. But that looked like a lot of flowers.

  This meant he was going to hit me up for more money.

  Again.

  I was considering asking him for the car so I could drive a couple of towns over (maybe three), find a bar and do a flash hustle. One-nighter, no Casey casing the joint, setting up the mark then calling me in. Just lots of bending over pool tables pretending I didn’t know what I was doing, lots of time watching stupid men drink whisky and watch me then I’d take their money. I did it and often. This usually didn’t pull down much. Sometimes twenty, usually fifty, if I was lucky and the guy was a moron with a wad of cash, a hundred or even two.

  But I figured it was too hot. Who knew what Bud Sharp and his sidekicks were spreading around and how far that would reach? Also, who knew how long this crush would last for Casey and how long we needed to keep our noses clean.

  Hells bells.

  My brother was half a block away, still grinning like a loon carrying his flowers, heading toward me when suddenly I wasn’t walking toward him anymore.

  Instead, an arm hooked my waist, my body shifted, my forward momentum shifted with it and I found myself slamming front-to-front into a long, hard frame.

  I knew that jacket. I knew that scarf.

  I looked up.

  Gray.

  He was grinning and his was huge too, dimple and everything.

  “You didn’t leave.”

  Hells bells!

  “Uh –” I mumbled.

  “Yo! Bro! Can I help you?”

  I turned my head and saw that Casey was right there. Then I turned my head again and saw that Gray had turned to my brother.

  “Hey,” he greeted, extending a hand to my brother. “I’m Gray.”

  “And I’m tickled pink,” Casey returned rudely. “Now, you wanna get your hands off my sister?”

  Gray looked at Casey then down at me. I tried to move out of the curve of his arm.

  It tightened.

  Oh dear.

  Gray looked back at my brother.

  “I’ll repeat, I’m Gray. Gray Cody, a friend of Ivey’s,” Gray stated, still attempting civility but he’d dropped his hand.

  “Ivey doesn’t have any friends,” Casey returned and, like a spasm, Gray’s arm curled even tighter around me.

  He was silent and I looked between the two of them seeing they were in stare down on the sidewalk in the town square.

  This was not good.

  “Uh –” I began again.

  “You’re wrong,” Gray said quietly. “She does. Me.”

  I battled and succeeded and therefore didn’t bite my lip.

  Casey’s eyes sliced to me. “You know this guy?”

  “I told you someone stepped in last night and that someone was Gray,” I answered carefully but not carefully enough.

  And this was when I knew Casey had made assumptions. Casey assumed that some out-of-shape barfly had taken my back. Casey had not considered that a young, tall, handsome man with a confident manner and a natural authority had stepped up for me.

  If Casey considered this, we would be three and a half hours out of Mustang, him falling in love with a class act or not.

  His eyes narrowed on me and I felt their sting. This was because Casey found this a betrayal. He said no connections. He demanded I play it safe. And me making a friend, even against my will, with a handsome stranger was not playing it safe to Casey.

  Then they cut to Gray. “Right then, got my gratitude, bro. Now I’m on duty, move along.”

  Gray didn’t move along. Gray didn’t tear his eyes from Casey and I didn’t know him all that well but you didn’t need to to know he really didn’t like what he was seeing.

  Then Gray’s eyes flicked to the flowers and back to Casey’s face before he said low, “Shoulda been on duty last night…” pause then, “bro.”

  Oh jeez.

  Casey’s back went straight or, I should say, straight-er.

  “All’s well that ends well,” he clipped and Gray shook his head. Once.

  “I reckon you know, bein’ a guy and all, you’re her brother but you’re also obviously not blind. She’s out, way she looks, way she moves, even havin’ a quiet night, keepin’ to herself, that shit might happen. That shit happened. You were not on duty. I wasn’t around, shit coulda got worse,” Gray pointed out.

  “Well, it didn’t,” Casey shot back. “And as I said, got my gratitude. Now, I’m here and, can’t say it straighter, in two seconds, you’re not.”

  This was all happening right there, right with me right there.

  But all I could think was…

  The way I look?

  The w
ay I move?

  Casey was wrong. In two seconds, Gray was not gone.

  Instead, he used those two seconds to dip his head to the flowers and ask, “Those for Ivey?”

  “None of your business…” pause then, “bro.”

  “They’re not,” Gray whispered, his eyes locked on Casey, his arm still locked around me, my front still tight to him but he’d shifted to facing Casey so I was tucked to his side.

  “What’d I say?” Casey whispered back. “None of your business.”

  “Plans tonight,” Gray deduced.

  Casey opened his mouth to speak but Gray looked down at me.

  “You’re free for steak and me.”

  My belly flip-flopped, my heart squeezed and my legs went weak.

  Casey got in our space and thus in Gray’s face.

  “That is not gonna fuckin’ happen,” he growled.

  Gray turned his head and tipped it down the two inches he needed to stare down Casey. This gave me confirmation of his height. Casey was six foot. I was five foot eight. This placed Gray at six foot two.

  See? Tall.

  “Why?” Gray asked.

  “Again, none of your business. Now, one last time, move along.”

  I could tell by Gray’s vibe and the tenseness I felt in his body that things were deteriorating. I knew by Casey’s vibe and the look on his face that they were already gone.

  I needed to wade in.

  “Casey, he’s a nice guy. It’s okay.”

  Casey’s eyes cut to me. “Stay out of it,” he bit off and that made me mad.

  Suddenly mad and really mad.

  For a lot of reasons.

  A lot of reasons that had been bugging me, not just then but for a long, long time.

  But just then, he was connecting with some woman, buying her flowers, throwing away money I won putting my ass on the line. Gray was right. He was off having fun and I, as usual, was not.

  Casey didn’t have a lot of fun?

  Casey didn’t laugh a lot?

  I wasn’t shits and grins?

  Well, he wasn’t either.

  He was a pain in my behind.

  And he had been for awhile.

  If he could decide Mustang just might be where we put down roots then who was he to decide I couldn’t make a connection?