Let's Not & Say We Did (The Love Game Book 5) Page 6

“That…figures,” I said.

  “Then we’ll have to walk it,” Ransom said.

  “Maybe I should wait here with the truck,” I offered hopefully.

  “Yeah. Sure. I’ll absolutely leave you in the middle of the woods with no way to call for help. Solid plan.”

  I glared at Ransom. “Your sarcasm is unbecoming.”

  “So is finding you murdered by the cast of Deliverance,” he shot back.

  “Hey. That movie was set in Georgia,” Owen argued, sounding offended.

  I was not going to think about the coincidence of that.

  Ransom held up his hands. “My bad,” he said in a tone that sounded less than genuine. “Lead the way to town, Owen.”

  Owen sniffed but began walking with Gimli trotting along beside him. “Town is kinda far,” he said after a couple of minutes. “Probably faster to just take you to my house.”

  “What?” Ransom said dryly as he jerked to a stop.

  “My house. It’s only about half a mile as the crow flies. We just need to follow a path through the woods.”

  “Dude, why didn’t you tell us your house was so close?”

  “I just did.” Owen sounded, and looked, truly baffled.

  Ransom looked ready to throttle Owen, so I stepped between them, facing Owen. “Going to your place sounds good. Let’s go.”

  Owen smiled at me as he turned and bounded into the woods, Gimli beside him. “You’re going to love the house, Gimster. Lots of wide-open space to explore. Critters to chase. It’s going to be awesome.”

  I couldn’t help smiling as I watched them. Looking beside me, I saw Ransom frowning at me. “What?”

  “This is a disaster. What are you smiling about?”

  I gestured in front of us. “They’re cute.” Gimli’s tail was wagging as Owen rambled on about anything and everything. It was difficult to dislike a guy who was clearly very well-natured, even if he was a tad oblivious.

  “The guy who’s leading us through the woods even though he doesn’t seem to have two brain cells to rub together and the mangy animal he found on the side of the road are cute? Really?”

  I shrugged. “Really.”

  “I’m starting to really question your taste in people.”

  His response caused me to jerk my head back from him, my eyebrows climbing up my forehead. “Clearly, since I’ve elected to spend time with you.” I hurried ahead, not wanting to be near him right now.

  I heard him mutter a “Shit” behind me before rushing to catch up. “I didn’t mean that how it sounded.”

  “Oh? How did it sound?” My tone was full-on bitchy, and I wasn’t sorry in the least.

  “I wasn’t talking about Brad or anything. It was just a stupid joke.”

  “Funny.”

  He gently took hold of my arm, pulling me to a stop. “I’m serious. I didn’t mean anything by it. I’m sorry.”

  I sighed. “I thought we worked through all of this at the rest stop. Our lives kind of suck right now, but we’re on the same side. Can we just…enjoy it?”

  “Enjoy… I’m sorry, I’m not being an asshole, but what exactly are we supposed to be enjoying right now?”

  I looked around. He had a point. “The scenery?”

  He huffed out a laugh. “The woods are lovely, dark, and deep.”

  I smiled. “That’s the spirit. You should write that down.”

  “I would, but Robert Frost beat me to it. I had to memorize his poem in grade school. Funny what sticks with you.”

  “I thought it sounded familiar, but I was willing to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

  He put an arm around my shoulders and pulled me closer to him. “How kind of you.”

  “Hey, guys!” Owen called. “Why’d you stop? Are you peeing?”

  Ransom looked down at me. “Still cute?”

  “He has potential.”

  Laughing, Ransom yelled, “Coming,” as we set off after Owen and into the unknown. In every sense of the word.

  R A N S O M

  Arriving at Owen’s house was a bit surreal. From the way he’d been talking, I’d been expecting something a little more rustic and simpler. But Owen’s house was a large, yellow two-story home that looked like something a dollhouse would be modeled after. It had well-maintained flower beds, a trimmed yard, and fall decorations that made the place look inviting and homey.

  Though that impression was dashed when I heard a shrill voice yell, “Owen Worthington Parrish, you better have brought me some of them special brownies, or you can take your ass right back where you came from.”

  My gaze darted around the facade of the house and settled on a second-story window where an elderly woman was poking her head out.

  Owen gave me a look that let me know I was going to be suffering the wrath of the woman inside. “No, Grandma. I couldn’t bring ’em.”

  “For Christ’s sake, boy. What was even the point of coming home?”

  “To celebrate his grandpa’s birthday,” a woman said as she came around the side of the house and looked up at Owen’s grandmother. “And put the damn screen back in the window. All we need is for you to take a header out of the house. People will think we knocked you off for the insurance money.”

  “Joke’s on them. I’ve got less dough than a bankrupted Pizza Hut,” the woman retorted before pulling inside and pushing the screen back into place.

  “Hi, Mom,” Owen said as he stepped into the embrace of a middle-aged woman. She was tiny—petite—with brown hair streaked with gray that she’d pulled back into a braid. But even with the different hair color and height, she was clearly Owen’s mom. He had her eyes and smile. “This is Taylor and Ransom. Guys, this is my mom, Claudette.”

  Claudette reached out a hand, and I grasped it quickly. She gave a firm shake that told of hands used to hard work. “Ransom. That’s an interesting name.”

  “Yeah, I get that a lot.”

  “Does it have family significance?” she asked.

  “Nah. My mom was probably still high on drugs from the delivery,” I joked, though it was somewhat true. She was likely very high but had probably arrived at the hospital that way.

  Claudette studied me for a moment before looking at Owen. “So when you said people from school were giving you a ride, I kind of expected you to show up in a car.”

  “It broke down on Yates Road. Figured Dad and I could go get it and tow it to the shop.”

  “Well, at least you were close. He’s in the garage. You all hungry?”

  “Starving,” Owen said.

  “I wasn’t really talking to you,” his mom said.

  “We don’t want to impose,” Taylor started.

  “You drove, what? Six hours with this one?” she asked, jerking a thumb over her shoulder. “A meal is the least I can offer. And, Owen, don’t think I haven’t noticed that dog you’re trying to hide behind you. It doesn’t come in until the vet’s checked him,” she said as she started up the five steps that led to the front door of the house.

  “But Dr. Taggart probably won’t be able to fit him in until tomorrow,” Owen complained.

  “Then I guess you better get him comfortable in the garage until tomorrow. Last time I let you bring a stray animal in the house, we had to fumigate the whole place.”

  “What if he’s not a stray? Maybe I adopted him from a rescue near school.”

  Claudette opened the screen door and stood there, holding it open so Owen’s grandmother could walk out. “Did you?”

  “Well, no, of course not. I found him at a rest stop. But still, you shouldn’t just assume—”

  “No wild animals in the house,” his mother said firmly before disappearing inside.

  “You let Grandma in the house,” he muttered.

  “If you think my arthritis will prevent me from skinning you alive, you better think again,” the old woman warned.

  “You’d have to catch me first.”

  “Yeah, ’cause it’s so hard to catch a boy who spends half
of his life higher than the sun. That shit will rot your brain.”

  “You smoke more than I do!”

  “I’m eighty-five years old and spend all day and night with your parents and grandfather. I gotta have some joy in my life.” She settled into a rocking chair on the porch. “You going to introduce me to your friends?”

  “I hadn’t planned on it.”

  She snorted a laugh. “Get up here and kiss me hello, you demon child.”

  Owen smiled as he took the steps two at a time and bent over so he could place a kiss on her cheek.

  She raised a wrinkled hand to cup his face. “How’s school been?”

  “Pretty good. I like my classes this semester.”

  “Good to hear it. If you’re going to leave me all alone with these sticks-in-the-mud, at least it’s for a good reason.”

  Owen straightened but took her hand in his. “I’m home all weekend. Just think of all the hell we can raise at Grandpa’s party.”

  “Looking forward to it. I missed ya, kid.”

  Owen smiled and dropped one more kiss to her cheek. “Missed you too, old lady.”

  It felt as if we were intruding on a personal moment. The affection between the grandmother and grandson hadn’t been clear when they’d initially been sniping at one another, but it was apparent now. I wondered what my own interactions with my family would be like.

  My mom had been estranged from her own mother for my entire childhood. And while they’d clearly mended their relationship, I wasn’t sure where that left me in the equation. However it would play out, I was pretty certain it wouldn’t be anything like the dynamic Owen had with his family, and I envied him a bit for it.

  “You sneaking that dog up to your room through the basement?” his grandmother asked.

  “You know it.”

  The old woman stood. “I’ll pretend to be doing some laundry and unlatch the storm doors for ya.”

  “You’re the best accomplice I’ve ever had,” Owen told her.

  “Driving your parents crazy is my best feature.” She turned to look at us. “I’m Jimi. There’s a hall bathroom on the second floor if you wanna freshen up before my daughter-in-law stuffs ya full of food. And I made an apple cobbler yesterday you’ll want to save room for.”

  “You made an apple cobbler?” Owen asked, drool practically forming at the corner of his lips.

  “Guests get first dibs,” she said, pointing a finger at him.

  Owen spluttered for a second before saying, “Ransom made me throw your brownies out the window.”

  “Whoa, dude,” I said. “You didn’t say they were for your grandmother.”

  “I didn’t not say it either.”

  “That doesn’t even make sense.”

  “Does too.”

  “Does not,” I gritted out.

  “Guys,” Taylor interrupted. “Really?”

  We glared at each other before motion on the porch stole our attention. Jimi was moving toward the door, but she turned before going inside. “I’m not mad. Just disappointed.” Her tone was full of recrimination, and I felt my chest constrict at her words as I continued to stare at where she’d just stood.

  Owen slapped a hand against my chest. “Ignore her. She’s constantly trying to reenact scenes from Days of Our Lives.”

  “You totally threw me under the bus,” I accused.

  “Yup,” he replied, his tone telling me he regretted nothing. “I’m gonna go talk to my dad about your truck. Head on inside, and I’ll meet you there in a few minutes. And my grandma was right. You’re more than welcome to use the hall bathroom upstairs if you wanna splash some water on your faces. Towels are in the cabinet.”

  T A Y L O R

  When we got inside, Jimi was sitting in a rocking chair with what looked like some kind of needlepoint. I hadn’t been expecting to find her partaking in such a grandmotherly hobby after what I’d seen of her on the porch. But when I got a bit closer, I saw her pattern had pot leaves all over it and felt a little more sure-footed in my assessment of her.

  She was amazing.

  Without looking at us, she used the hand she was holding the needle with to point up the stairs. “Bathroom’s that way. Claudette has pretty much everything ready for lunch, so you don’t have much time for any hanky-panky up there.” She lifted her eyes to wink at Ransom. “Unless you’re really fast.”

  Ransom spluttered. “I…uh…I…wow, I don’t know what to say to that.”

  “Making people speechless is a passion of mine,” Jimi said, returning her attention to her project.

  “You’re really good at it,” he said.

  “Such a smooth talker. And so handsome. How do you ever resist him?” she asked me.

  Ransom, the ass, preened under her words like she hadn’t just insinuated he had a hair trigger during sex. I shot him a droll look and replied dryly, “I manage somehow.”

  Jimi snickered as Ransom and I walked across the hardwood floors toward the stairs.

  Once upstairs, we shut ourselves in the bathroom, and I leaned back against the door. “This family is like the one from Texas Chainsaw Massacre, except they use sarcasm instead of chainsaws.”

  Ransom laughed as he pulled a towel from the closet. “They’re not that bad.”

  I sighed and moved toward the sink. “Wait until we get through lunch before you make a final assessment.” I was joking, of course. The Parrishes were the type of people who put me immediately at ease, as if I could sink into their eccentricity instead of feeling like we all had to pretend to be people we weren’t.

  After patting some water onto my face and drying it with a towel, I moved to let Ransom have the water. As he was splashing water on himself, I watched him, wondering if I should ask what had been on the tip of my tongue since he’d introduced himself to Claudette.

  “So, this is something I feel like I should know already, but…how did you get the name Ransom?”

  He sat up and took the towel from me. “Well, when a woman has a baby, she has the unique privilege of naming said baby.”

  I slapped him on the chest. “I know that. But what made her pick it?”

  He exhaled heavily, and the sound and the hesitant look on his face made me want to tell him he didn’t have to answer. But before I could, he started talking.

  “When my mom showed up at the hospital to have me, they suspected she was high. So after I was born, they had a social worker from the hospital come talk to her. Apparently my mom wasn’t too friendly, and the hospital said they wouldn’t release me to her if she didn’t submit to a drug test. She refused, and supposedly it was quite the standoff. My mom said it was like they were holding me for ransom. Hence the name.”

  My heart broke for this man. This insanely wonderful and kind man who’d been dealt a shit hand from birth. Even his name was a constant reminder of how bad his life had been.

  “Jesus. What ended up happening?”

  “The hospital couldn’t really refuse to give me to her. And while they threatened to get child welfare involved, to my knowledge they never did.”

  “Your mom just…told you all this?” The more I heard, the more I was worried I wouldn’t be able to fake cordiality to his mother. I’d already known she’d been horrible, but for fuck’s sake. Suggesting this trip had been a mistake, and I wished like hell I could take it back.

  “Nah, I heard her telling it to someone she was talking to on the phone when I was a kid.” He looked around for somewhere to put the towel, but I felt that it was more of an excuse to not look me in the eyes.

  “Hey,” I said softly as I put a hand on his arm.

  When he turned toward me, I pushed myself against him, burying my face into his chest. I figured it would allow him to grapple with his feelings without me staring at him while still knowing he could lean on me.

  “If you don’t want to go to the reunion, I totally understand. We can tell your mom we broke down and were kidnapped by a pot-smoking granny and her dog-whispering grandson.
It’s not even a lie.”

  He chuckled, the sensation traveling from his chest and into mine. After dropping a quick kiss to my head, he pulled back a bit but kept his arms locked around me. “It’s fine. I feel like I have to face them, ya know? Then I’ll be able to finally start moving forward once I get over this hurdle.”

  “I understand. But maybe the timing isn’t good. Maybe—”

  He cupped my jaw in his large palm and smiled sweetly down at me. “Thank you.”

  My brow wrinkled in confusion. “For what?” Seriously, from the moment this man had met me, his life had only gotten harder. I was like a black cat or a broken mirror or a…perpetual Friday the thirteenth.

  “For giving a shit. For always wanting to make things better for me.”

  “Even though I end up making them worse?”

  “You never make anything worse. Ever. You’ve only made my life better.”

  I squinted my eyes in disbelief, which made him laugh again.

  “I’m serious,” he assured me.

  I studied him for a second and saw the sincerity there. “I’m very thankful for your skewed perception of reality.”

  “You’re ridiculous,” he said, giving me a final squeeze before pulling away entirely.

  “Where are you going?” I whined as his arms left me. “Come back.” I wanted his hands on me all the time, but there was almost a need clutching at me. Maybe Jimi was right… He was impossible to resist.

  “No way. I am not giving Owen’s family any room to make assumptions about what we were doing in here.”

  “If we’re loud, they won’t have to assume.”

  That stopped him. He turned to face me, and I could see the desire written all over him. “I feel like I should be repulsed by that statement, but I’m totally turned on by it.”

  “Then come here and let’s show Jimi how quick we can be.”

  Ransom stilled for a second before saying, “Yup, mentioning Owen’s grandmother killed the mood for me. Thanks for that.” He stepped past me and opened the bathroom door.

  “Damn me and my big mouth,” I mumbled as I followed him from the room, his laughter enveloping us every step of the way.

  Chapter Seven