Dirty Deal (Perfectly Matched 2)

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”

Serena rumpled her eyebrows, and he realized he’d been speaking aloud, but before he got the chance to respond, his cell phone rang in his hand. With another flick of the thumb, he pressed it to his ear and answered, “Hello?”

“Oh darling, I’m so glad I’ve caught you. I know you’ve been so busy since you’ve been home. Is this a good time?” His grandmother’s syrupy sweet voice poured out from the speakers and Q’s warning clicked. Batten down the hatches, the guilt storm was about to blow in.

His granny was as sweet as her voice, it was true, but he could already tell she needed something, and that would invariably mean she was about to lay it on thick. Real thick.

Serena gestured toward the phone and he held up a finger.

“Hey Gran, no, I can talk.”

“Oh, lovely. It’s so wonderful to hear your voice after all this time.”

She was good. The best way to find out what her agenda was would be to bait the hook, though. See if he could get her to bite.

“You too, Gran. I was just thinking I should come over and visit soon.” He cast the reel.

“That would be lovely, dear, but I won’t be home much. You know with Marcia’s wedding and everything. So much to do.”

And there it was. The blood in the water.

“Marcia’s wedding?”

“Yes indeed, dearie. I’m at your Uncle Peter’s barn today helping with the decorating. We’re all pitching in and putting everything together. Your sister is even working on a little picnic for us while we work. Like a family luncheon. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

And there was the trap. Closing his eyes, he said, “That sounds like a lot of fun. Maybe I should come over and help?”

“Oh no, I wouldn’t want to inconvenience you, dear. We’ll see you at the wedding. I’m sure we can manage without you.” The silence blared tellingly over the line, and he blew out a quiet sigh.

“I insist.” He was so used to the non-arm-bending arm-bending by now that it didn’t even faze him. In fact, it was kind of impressive. She took it to the level of an art form. “I’ll be there in an hour tops.”

“This is why I always said you were my favorite,” she crooned, and a loud muttering sounded behind her until she amended, “Of course, it was more like a pair of favorites, with you and your sister tied.”

“Got it. Tell Q I’ll see her soon.” He ended the call and went back to reading his medical journal. Not because he didn’t notice Serena staring him down for details, but because he knew he was driving her crazy by not filling her in right away.

“What was that about?” A familiar pink flush lit her cheeks, and it was an effort not to fixate on where else he’d gotten that sweet color to bloom not half an hour before…

“Well?” she pressed.

“My grandmother wants me to come over and help with my cousin’s wedding stuff.”

“Sounds like a hoot,” she said with a wince.

“You don’t like stuff like that? Isn’t it kind of your job?”

“I deal with the stuff before the marriage.” She chewed on her grapefruit. “You know, the actual fun stuff.”

Silence stretched between them, like they both felt the weight of the rest of this conversation. He knew she wouldn’t broach the topic, and he didn’t know where to start himself.

It was true that they’d spent most of their weekdays apart. Serena had gone to the office, and he’d spent most of his days at the local VA hospital volunteering. Despite his every effort to stay away, his car seemed to steer itself back to her driveway every evening. And every evening, she was there waiting with a smile.

It wasn’t something they’d ever discussed—it just was. They watched crap TV, listened to music, played card games. And, of course, in the times in between, they’d be curled around each other, screwing like carpenters.

Now, faced with the prospect of this impromptu little party, he wasn’t sure what to do. It felt like she should be there with him, but it felt equally wrong to ask.

Like it would make it—and them—official. His obligation was up in another four months, but he had no intention of resigning his commission. Military for life. Bringing her to family functions would only make it harder for them both when he left.

She set her fork on her plate and stared at her own cell phone. They both knew it hadn’t made a sound, but she slid her thumb over the surface like she was unlocking a message. “I was supposed to go to the mall with Grace today,” she said, her tone airy.

“Sounds like fun.” And it let him off the hook. Now there was no decision to be made because she couldn’t go anyway. It was for the best.

“But she canceled,” Serena finished. She was careful not to look at him as she collected her plate and headed for the kitchen. She hadn’t offered to join him, but she didn’t have to come out and say it for him to know what she’d meant.

“That’s too bad,” he said evenly, tamping down the warmth that spread through him at the thought of having her with him all day. “If you don’t have anything to do and want to join me, I think Q could really use the help. It’s the first wedding she’s ever planned.”

“Sure. If Q really needs the help, I’ll lend a hand.” Serena nodded slowly and then shrugged. “But you know and I know that you owe me for this.” A wicked grin spread across her face, and he returned it before closing his magazine.

She could say what she wanted. She knew what it really was just as well as he did. A date. They were getting deeper by the second, and he knew he’d have to pull back soon…but not today.

“Get ready. We leave in ten.”

…

They left in twenty, but with the way Serena looked, it was well worth the wait. She looked like the world’s sexiest Beverly Hillbilly. Daisy Dukes clung to her toned thighs, and a red checkered shirt was knotted the slightest bit below her navel. Just low enough that he could peek at her tanned skin when she shifted from foot to foot in her weathered brown boots.

She stalked out to the truck and he raised his eyebrows.

“That’s your work getup?”

“Nothing that’s worth doing needs to be done in an ugly outfit.” She hopped into the vehicle without another look, then stuck her arm out the window and patted the side twice. “Now let’s get going. Time’s a-wasting.”

They spent most of the ride with idle chat about whatever junk show they’d watched the night before, but midway there, they both went quiet.

Finally, Serena asked, “So, what’s this luncheon going to be like? Lots of family or…?”

“I’m not exactly sure, but I think it will be pretty small. My cousin, Marcia, and her parents will probably be there. Maybe her brothers and sisters. Q, of course. And my grandmother.”

“Cool, cool.” Serena nodded and tapped her hand against the truck door. “Cooly cool cool. Cool.”

If this was her version of acting natural, he was glad she didn’t have to survive in the wild. He felt her tension in the air like a current, and even though he sympathized, he couldn’t help but think it was…well, kind of adorable.

Feisty Serena worried about the opinion of a little old lady. Imagine that.

“You know those cartoon mice from kids’ movies? Like, the ones that are motherly and knit and stuff?” he asked.

She quirked her mouth to the side but nodded all the same.

“Well, my grandmother is sort of like that. When you see her, you can sort of picture her darning socks and reading stories to kids while they fall asleep. She looks like she should be in an oatmeal commercial.”

Serena’s expression softened. “That sounds sweet.”

“She is. Aside from her cutthroat passive-aggressive guilting techniques. But don’t worry. She only uses those on family.” He waited a beat, then added, “And I think she’ll like you.”

“I’m sure I’ll like her, too,” she said with a pale semblance of the confident Serena smile he knew so well.

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When they pulled up and trekked down the winding road to the barn, he found his sister on a precariously placed ladder, straddling the distance between it and a colossal wooden beam. The whole building was already festooned with fake flowers, but apparently Q was in charge of pinning on the finishing touches.

His grandmother sat a little ways off under a tree with a pitcher of lemonade and an ancient silk fan. They approached, and the old lady grinned sweetly as he leaned in to plant a kiss on her cheek.

“Well, don’t you get better looking every time I see you,” she crooned.

“Thanks, Gran,” he said.