“Josie? Was that Garth who pulled up in the driveway?”
I pulled my hand away from Josie’s cheek, and she took a few steps backward, smoothing her dress and expression. “Yeah, he’s here.”
“Then what in the world is taking you so long? You have company waiting for you.”
Josie’s glanced over at me. “We were just saying hey.”
My brows came together. I didn’t realize what we’d said and done qualified as a hey, but at least the girl was getting better at the whole parental evasion thing.
“Well can’t you say hey in the kitchen? I think Colt’s starting to wonder if you’ve run off to Vegas.” The instant Mrs. Gibson’s eyes fell on me, her mouth turned down and she exhaled. “Hello, Garth. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.” Mrs. Gibson had the robot voice down pat.
I tipped my hat and shoved off the wall. “I’m sorry that ‘a while’ couldn’t have been a bit longer, but your daughter’s convinced I can’t survive a night on my own, let alone the whole winter.” Josie received a sideways look from her mom. “Thank you for offering to let me stay a few nights. I really appreciate it.” Just because I’d heard exactly how Mrs. Gibson felt about me earlier didn’t mean I couldn’t muster up some old-fashioned respect and mind my Ps and Qs.
“A few days? Garth, you can stay as long as you want. It’s going to take you more than a few days to find a place of your own,” Josie said, crossing her arms.
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. I’m sure if Garth puts his mind to it, he can do anything. Isn’t that right, Garth?”
If only Mrs. Gibson knew the things I’d put my mind to . . . “That’s right. You never know, Joze, I might go and surprise the hell out of you.” Mrs. Gibson cleared of her throat loudly. Oh, yeah. It had been a while since I’d been in the Gibsons’ home. “Sorry, ma’am. I meant . . . I might go and surprise the heaven out of you.”
Josie pursed her lips to keep from laughing while Mrs. Gibson looked more to be holding back from strangling me. Josie said, “Why don’t we head into the kitchen before I tell you to get out and go to heaven?” We laughed, turning Mrs. Gibson a special shade of red. She practically marched back into the dining room.
Walking beside Josie toward the dining room, I nudged her. “Go to heaven? Really, Joze? That was pathetic. That was like kindergarten quality comedy right there.”
“It got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” She nudged me back—with her elbow into my ribs. That “nudge” was a Josie favorite.
“A pity laugh, Gibson.”
“Nice try. You were in stitches back there. Rolling from your laughter.”
“I’ll show you rolling in laughter.” I pinched her side, and when she tried to slide away, I slid with her and kept pinching until she was an inch from rolling.
Mrs. Gibson did her best to ignore us, but when we made it into the dining room, the others definitely weren’t ignoring us. I dropped my hand, but I stayed where I was. Right beside her. That pissed Colt Mason off more than any other opening jab I could have thrown at him. Mr. Gibson and Colt stood up from the table, their eyes narrowing on me. So one person wanted me there. The rest, not so much.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Gibson.”
He shook his head. “Since you’re going to be staying with us for a while, why don’t you cut the bullshit now, Garth? I know you’re about as excited to see me as I am to see you.” I tipped my head in agreement. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s enjoy dinner.”
“Daddy, no. We do not have that out of the way.” It was good to know Josie didn’t use that tone only on me. “You promised you would be fair and not act like a caveman. You promised to give Garth a chance, and you saying your hellos that way is not giving him a chance.” Josie grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the table. I went along because . . . well, where else would I go when Josie was pulling me forward? “You are going to shake his hand and try it again.”
Mr. Gibson shifted, not making eye contact with Josie. It was also good to know I wasn’t the only male she could make uncomfortable and ashamed at the same time. Once we were a few feet in front of Mr. Gibson, Josie stopped and moved aside like she was playing referee. She pretty much was.
“Well?” She gave me a look and then her dad. When that pointed expression made its way back to me, I sighed and extended my hand.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Gibson.” I glanced at Josie, making sure she was taking note. She was definitely taking note, and the way she was looking at me reminded me of what she’d said in the hall about not being sorry about that night, and that got me thinking about . . .
Fuck. All the way to infinity and back. I was about to shake hands with her dad with a hard-on. Not a proud moment.
Mr. Gibson extended his hand with a sigh and shook mine with another sigh. “Good to see you, too, Garth.” He gave Josie a look before his eyes zeroed back in on me. I don’t know if he knew the thoughts I was having about his daughter and the way my body was responding to those thoughts or if he just downright hated my guts, but that was one look I would take to the grave. “Keep your hands off my daughter. I have no problems going back to prison.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Duly noted.”
With a huff, Josie broke our handshake by stepping between us and leveling her dad with a look that wouldn’t have only leveled me; it would have obliterated me. “That’s your idea of—”
“That’s all I’m capable of right now, Josie Belle. I don’t hand out second chances just because. If Garth proves himself worthy of me changing my less-than-stellar opinions of him, I will do it with a smile. But until then . . .” Mr. Gibson patted Josie’s cheek, the same one I’d just had my hand around. “He’s serving his sentence for all the years he’s spent building a bad reputation.”
I totally got where Mr. Gibson was coming from. If I ever became a father and my daughter hung around a guy like me, I’d be faced with two options: serve a life sentence for putting a bullet into the kid’s head or sequester my daughter to her own private iceberg in the middle of the Bering Sea. I’d die before I’d let a daughter of mine get involved with someone like me. Mr. Gibson and I spoke the same language there.
There was a problem, though. Mr. Gibson didn’t know Josie and I’d slept together. He and Mrs. Gibson didn’t have a clue I’d been the reason Josie and Jesse—their golden son-in-law who could have been—broke up. The three of us had come to some sort of unspoken agreement not to talk about what had happened. We didn’t talk about what had taken three best friends and split them apart. He didn’t know I’d been intimate with his daughter, and he’d still formed the opinion of me that I was about as worthless as a bull with no buck. If and when the day ever came that he found out . . . well, I would never get a second chance because I’d spend the rest of this life and my next serving time for the first chance I’d ruined.
Josie hitched her hands on her hips, and I knew it wasn’t a matter of if, but when she got back into it with her dad. So instead of carrying on what I knew to be a stalemate, I turned to the other guy. The one who made my fists ball the instant I looked at him. As expected, he was running his eyes all over Josie. When they stopped on her ass, I stepped forward, and I swear to god if his gaze hadn’t shifted right then, I would have hammered him into the ground.
“Colt.” I shifted until I was between Josie and his leering gaze.
“Garth.” He crossed his arms and stood taller. I still had the douche by two inches. “Looks like your face healed up okay.”
As expected, getting in a bar fight with me was the highlight of Colt Mason’s life. “What? From those butterfly kisses you gave me? It was like a day at the spa.” Instead of refereeing her dad and me together, Josie shifted to trying to referee me and Colt apart. Wasn’t happening.
“Don’t spa days cost money? Something you don’t have any of?”
Josie let out a small gasp. I lifted an eyebrow at him that said Is that all you’ve got? “You know, there are plenty of things you can’t buy with money. Like respect. Or integrity. Or a dick that doesn’t malfunction.”
“Garth,” Mrs. Gibson hissed. Of course she’d missed Colt’s insult.
Colt stepped forward. “Given all of your conquests that might have a little . . . mileage on them, I suppose you know about malfunctioning dicks.”
Why was I letting the a**hole still run his mouth? Oh, yeah, no reason. I was so close to bringing my left fist around until to smash that stupid little smirk off his face when Josie’s hand slipped into my fist. With one touch, she’d diffused a bomb. Her hand didn’t stay in mine long—just long enough to calm me down. It slipped out before Colt or her parents saw.
“If either of you boys want to stay around for dinner, you’d better watch your mouths. And your fists.” Mr. Gibson gave me a pointed look. I guess he hadn’t missed that I was ready to send Mason across the living room with one hit.
“Sorry, Mr. Gibson.” Colt turned his back to me and headed to the table. “This guy just has a way of getting under my skin. Along with everyone else’s.”
“Garth is a guest here. So are you. The better man isn’t the one who hits first or the hardest or the most. The better man is the one who uses his head instead of his fists.”
I had so many smart-ass responses to that, but I tried something I’d been trying more and more and bit my tongue until it almost bled. Mr. Gibson sat at the table and waited for us to do the same. Mason, the ass kisser, sat next to Mr. Gibson before I’d stepped toward the table.
“Hey, Josie. We’re still on for next month, right?” Mason asked.
Two points for knowing just how to push my buttons. My hands were back into fists as I approached the table. He might have sat beside Mr. Gibson to get so far up that man’s ass he’d need the damn enema of enemas to get him out, but I wasn’t there for Mr. Gibson. I was there for someone else. Sliding out a chair, I glanced at Josie and raised an eyebrow. She smiled. She was still smiling when I sat beside her.
“Josie? Have you gone deaf, child?” Mrs. Gibson set a big roast in the middle of the table. “Colt asked you a question.”
Her smile dropped. “I must have missed it. Sorry, Colt, what did you ask?”
He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I asked if we were still on for next month?”
“What’s next month?”
Colt’s shoulders dropped just enough to make me grin. “The big winter dance and barbecue at Wild Bill’s.”
I wanted to make like Josie and roll my eyes. Our town and its fondness for seasonal get-togethers at the local honky-tonk. As a rule, I avoided “community” get-togethers since community made me nauseous. The only reason I’d been to a few of them was because there were so many single and willing women at those things, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.
o;Josie? Was that Garth who pulled up in the driveway?”
I pulled my hand away from Josie’s cheek, and she took a few steps backward, smoothing her dress and expression. “Yeah, he’s here.”
“Then what in the world is taking you so long? You have company waiting for you.”
Josie’s glanced over at me. “We were just saying hey.”
My brows came together. I didn’t realize what we’d said and done qualified as a hey, but at least the girl was getting better at the whole parental evasion thing.
“Well can’t you say hey in the kitchen? I think Colt’s starting to wonder if you’ve run off to Vegas.” The instant Mrs. Gibson’s eyes fell on me, her mouth turned down and she exhaled. “Hello, Garth. It’s good to see you again. It’s been a while.” Mrs. Gibson had the robot voice down pat.
I tipped my hat and shoved off the wall. “I’m sorry that ‘a while’ couldn’t have been a bit longer, but your daughter’s convinced I can’t survive a night on my own, let alone the whole winter.” Josie received a sideways look from her mom. “Thank you for offering to let me stay a few nights. I really appreciate it.” Just because I’d heard exactly how Mrs. Gibson felt about me earlier didn’t mean I couldn’t muster up some old-fashioned respect and mind my Ps and Qs.
“A few days? Garth, you can stay as long as you want. It’s going to take you more than a few days to find a place of your own,” Josie said, crossing her arms.
“Oh, sweetie, I don’t know. I’m sure if Garth puts his mind to it, he can do anything. Isn’t that right, Garth?”
If only Mrs. Gibson knew the things I’d put my mind to . . . “That’s right. You never know, Joze, I might go and surprise the hell out of you.” Mrs. Gibson cleared of her throat loudly. Oh, yeah. It had been a while since I’d been in the Gibsons’ home. “Sorry, ma’am. I meant . . . I might go and surprise the heaven out of you.”
Josie pursed her lips to keep from laughing while Mrs. Gibson looked more to be holding back from strangling me. Josie said, “Why don’t we head into the kitchen before I tell you to get out and go to heaven?” We laughed, turning Mrs. Gibson a special shade of red. She practically marched back into the dining room.
Walking beside Josie toward the dining room, I nudged her. “Go to heaven? Really, Joze? That was pathetic. That was like kindergarten quality comedy right there.”
“It got a laugh out of you, didn’t it?” She nudged me back—with her elbow into my ribs. That “nudge” was a Josie favorite.
“A pity laugh, Gibson.”
“Nice try. You were in stitches back there. Rolling from your laughter.”
“I’ll show you rolling in laughter.” I pinched her side, and when she tried to slide away, I slid with her and kept pinching until she was an inch from rolling.
Mrs. Gibson did her best to ignore us, but when we made it into the dining room, the others definitely weren’t ignoring us. I dropped my hand, but I stayed where I was. Right beside her. That pissed Colt Mason off more than any other opening jab I could have thrown at him. Mr. Gibson and Colt stood up from the table, their eyes narrowing on me. So one person wanted me there. The rest, not so much.
“Good to see you again, Mr. Gibson.”
He shook his head. “Since you’re going to be staying with us for a while, why don’t you cut the bullshit now, Garth? I know you’re about as excited to see me as I am to see you.” I tipped my head in agreement. “Good. Now that we’ve got that out of the way, let’s enjoy dinner.”
“Daddy, no. We do not have that out of the way.” It was good to know Josie didn’t use that tone only on me. “You promised you would be fair and not act like a caveman. You promised to give Garth a chance, and you saying your hellos that way is not giving him a chance.” Josie grabbed my arm and tugged me toward the table. I went along because . . . well, where else would I go when Josie was pulling me forward? “You are going to shake his hand and try it again.”
Mr. Gibson shifted, not making eye contact with Josie. It was also good to know I wasn’t the only male she could make uncomfortable and ashamed at the same time. Once we were a few feet in front of Mr. Gibson, Josie stopped and moved aside like she was playing referee. She pretty much was.
“Well?” She gave me a look and then her dad. When that pointed expression made its way back to me, I sighed and extended my hand.
“It’s good to see you, Mr. Gibson.” I glanced at Josie, making sure she was taking note. She was definitely taking note, and the way she was looking at me reminded me of what she’d said in the hall about not being sorry about that night, and that got me thinking about . . .
Fuck. All the way to infinity and back. I was about to shake hands with her dad with a hard-on. Not a proud moment.
Mr. Gibson extended his hand with a sigh and shook mine with another sigh. “Good to see you, too, Garth.” He gave Josie a look before his eyes zeroed back in on me. I don’t know if he knew the thoughts I was having about his daughter and the way my body was responding to those thoughts or if he just downright hated my guts, but that was one look I would take to the grave. “Keep your hands off my daughter. I have no problems going back to prison.”
I lifted my eyebrows. “Duly noted.”
With a huff, Josie broke our handshake by stepping between us and leveling her dad with a look that wouldn’t have only leveled me; it would have obliterated me. “That’s your idea of—”
“That’s all I’m capable of right now, Josie Belle. I don’t hand out second chances just because. If Garth proves himself worthy of me changing my less-than-stellar opinions of him, I will do it with a smile. But until then . . .” Mr. Gibson patted Josie’s cheek, the same one I’d just had my hand around. “He’s serving his sentence for all the years he’s spent building a bad reputation.”
I totally got where Mr. Gibson was coming from. If I ever became a father and my daughter hung around a guy like me, I’d be faced with two options: serve a life sentence for putting a bullet into the kid’s head or sequester my daughter to her own private iceberg in the middle of the Bering Sea. I’d die before I’d let a daughter of mine get involved with someone like me. Mr. Gibson and I spoke the same language there.
There was a problem, though. Mr. Gibson didn’t know Josie and I’d slept together. He and Mrs. Gibson didn’t have a clue I’d been the reason Josie and Jesse—their golden son-in-law who could have been—broke up. The three of us had come to some sort of unspoken agreement not to talk about what had happened. We didn’t talk about what had taken three best friends and split them apart. He didn’t know I’d been intimate with his daughter, and he’d still formed the opinion of me that I was about as worthless as a bull with no buck. If and when the day ever came that he found out . . . well, I would never get a second chance because I’d spend the rest of this life and my next serving time for the first chance I’d ruined.
Josie hitched her hands on her hips, and I knew it wasn’t a matter of if, but when she got back into it with her dad. So instead of carrying on what I knew to be a stalemate, I turned to the other guy. The one who made my fists ball the instant I looked at him. As expected, he was running his eyes all over Josie. When they stopped on her ass, I stepped forward, and I swear to god if his gaze hadn’t shifted right then, I would have hammered him into the ground.
“Colt.” I shifted until I was between Josie and his leering gaze.
“Garth.” He crossed his arms and stood taller. I still had the douche by two inches. “Looks like your face healed up okay.”
As expected, getting in a bar fight with me was the highlight of Colt Mason’s life. “What? From those butterfly kisses you gave me? It was like a day at the spa.” Instead of refereeing her dad and me together, Josie shifted to trying to referee me and Colt apart. Wasn’t happening.
“Don’t spa days cost money? Something you don’t have any of?”
Josie let out a small gasp. I lifted an eyebrow at him that said Is that all you’ve got? “You know, there are plenty of things you can’t buy with money. Like respect. Or integrity. Or a dick that doesn’t malfunction.”
“Garth,” Mrs. Gibson hissed. Of course she’d missed Colt’s insult.
Colt stepped forward. “Given all of your conquests that might have a little . . . mileage on them, I suppose you know about malfunctioning dicks.”
Why was I letting the a**hole still run his mouth? Oh, yeah, no reason. I was so close to bringing my left fist around until to smash that stupid little smirk off his face when Josie’s hand slipped into my fist. With one touch, she’d diffused a bomb. Her hand didn’t stay in mine long—just long enough to calm me down. It slipped out before Colt or her parents saw.
“If either of you boys want to stay around for dinner, you’d better watch your mouths. And your fists.” Mr. Gibson gave me a pointed look. I guess he hadn’t missed that I was ready to send Mason across the living room with one hit.
“Sorry, Mr. Gibson.” Colt turned his back to me and headed to the table. “This guy just has a way of getting under my skin. Along with everyone else’s.”
“Garth is a guest here. So are you. The better man isn’t the one who hits first or the hardest or the most. The better man is the one who uses his head instead of his fists.”
I had so many smart-ass responses to that, but I tried something I’d been trying more and more and bit my tongue until it almost bled. Mr. Gibson sat at the table and waited for us to do the same. Mason, the ass kisser, sat next to Mr. Gibson before I’d stepped toward the table.
“Hey, Josie. We’re still on for next month, right?” Mason asked.
Two points for knowing just how to push my buttons. My hands were back into fists as I approached the table. He might have sat beside Mr. Gibson to get so far up that man’s ass he’d need the damn enema of enemas to get him out, but I wasn’t there for Mr. Gibson. I was there for someone else. Sliding out a chair, I glanced at Josie and raised an eyebrow. She smiled. She was still smiling when I sat beside her.
“Josie? Have you gone deaf, child?” Mrs. Gibson set a big roast in the middle of the table. “Colt asked you a question.”
Her smile dropped. “I must have missed it. Sorry, Colt, what did you ask?”
He put his elbows on the table and leaned forward. “I asked if we were still on for next month?”
“What’s next month?”
Colt’s shoulders dropped just enough to make me grin. “The big winter dance and barbecue at Wild Bill’s.”
I wanted to make like Josie and roll my eyes. Our town and its fondness for seasonal get-togethers at the local honky-tonk. As a rule, I avoided “community” get-togethers since community made me nauseous. The only reason I’d been to a few of them was because there were so many single and willing women at those things, it was like shooting fish in a barrel.