Play It Safe

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 way 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?

Just one.

Just one since I was twelve stinking years old.

He “connected” all the time.

Not me.

And I was not twelve anymore. I was twenty-two. I could drink legally in every state in the Union. I could drive a car. I could vote. I could join the Army.

I was an adult, darn it.

And I had been awhile.

I didn’t need my big brother looking out for me and, frankly, if we were honest about it (though, that was something Casey would never be) for the last at least five years, it had mostly been me looking out for Casey.

I turned to Gray and said firmly, “I’ll be ready at five thirty.”

The tension slid out of his body, Gray looked down at me and grinned.

With dimple.

Darn but I liked that dimple.

I smiled back.

“That’s not happening, sis,” Casey warned, his voice trembling with fury.

I looked at him. “It is.”

“Don’t be stupid,” he hissed and that made me even more mad.

“Seriously?” I asked. “Do you see that cut on Gray’s forehead, Casey? He got that for me. I put those plasters on. You were off having fun and I was in danger and Gray stepped up for me. You should be thanking him not getting in his face. He’s a nice guy. He has a lovely Grandma. She makes really good preserves. And I’m having steak with him tonight.”

Casey’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “You met his Grandma?”

“Yes, and she makes really good preserves.”

That was when Casey’s eyes narrowed on me. “Thinkin’ there’s shit you left out this mornin’, sis.”

“You’d think right but I don’t ask, you don’t tell and I don’t ask because even when I did, you didn’t tell. My turn,” I fired back.

Casey scowled at me.

Then he whispered, “I’m not likin’ this shift, sister.”

I knew he wouldn’t.

But at that moment, standing in a pretty town square pressed up against the warm hard body of a handsome man who was a good guy who took care of his Grandma, a Grandma that, even in a wheelchair, made delicious strawberry preserves, I didn’t care.

Therefore, I made no response.

He kept scowling at me.

I held it and as I did, Gray held me.

Then Casey’s eyes cut to Gray and he demanded ridiculously (and embarrassingly), “I want her home by ten.”

Gray burst out laughing.

I rethought my rebellion hearing it and knowing I loved it.

Yes, loved it. It was love. It went down to my bones. That was to say, I loved it with not a small amount of intensity. I’d heard it twice and that was how deep his laughter had rooted into me.

Yes, definitely rethinking my rebellion.

“I wasn’t jokin’, bro,” Casey warned and Gray sobered, kind of. Mostly he chuckled while smiling and looked back at Casey.

Then he said, “You gonna be at the hotel at ten to know?”

Casey’s teeth clamped and his jaw tensed.

That meant no.

And Gray knew it.

“Right,” Gray muttered, still sounding amused.

Casey leaned even closer, rolling up on his toes and I held my breath when he got nose-to-nose with Gray.

“I think you get I’m not likin’ this, you do anything to my Ivey, you got a problem,” he whispered.

“And I think you don’t get that all men are not like you,” Gray returned on a low growl, no longer even minimally amused. “I would never do anything to Ivey or any woman they didn’t want me to do. Now back off before I do somethin’ to you Ivey won’t want me to do.”

Oh dear.

Casey held Gray’s steady stare.

Gray returned it.

I held my breath.

Then I couldn’t anymore and therefore announced, “If you two don’t stop it, I’m gonna pass out.”

Surprisingly instantly, Casey leaned away. When he did, Gray moved back taking me with him.

Casey shot Gray a death glare, modified it only slightly before he swung it to me then he turned on his boot and stomped in the direction of the hotel.

Gray shifted so my front was not tucked to his side but his front.

I looked up at him.

And at a glance, I knew this was worth it. Enduring that scene was worth it. And this was because Gray wasn’t grinning, no dimple, no tender look, no laughter and just his eyes soft on me, but still, I knew it was worth it

“You okay?” he asked.

I nodded.

“Five thirty?” he asked.

I nodded again.

That was when he grinned.

Oh yes. Definitely worth it.

“Glad his shit kept you in town, dollface,” he whispered.

I nodded again. I was glad too. Very glad.

He lifted a hand and cupped my jaw.

I held my breath.

Please kiss me, please kiss me. Please, please, please kiss me, my mind chanted.

“See you at five thirty,” he muttered, his fingers at my jaw tensed a second then he let me go.

I shifted woodenly and watched him walk to his truck parked on the square.

Then I licked my lips, turned back and headed to the hotel.

One hour later…

I had a dilemma.

No connections. Play it safe. No roots. Traveling. Hotels. Bars. No one but Casey and me.

This meant I didn’t know what I was doing.

I’d never been on a date.

I didn’t even know what a VFW was.

I just knew steak was a fancy meal. Casey and I splurged on our birthdays, on Christmas and on Thanksgiving. We saved up (or I did) and made it so. No gifts. Just togetherness, a good meal and a toast that we made it that far and another toast to the hope that our futures would be that we’d keep on making it.

But now, I had a looming date.

With Grayson Cody.

And even though I figured it would only be this one, not for me, but for him, I didn’t want to mess it up.

But I had no idea what I was doing.

Casey was staring at the TV, waiting for his dream girl to get off work and ignoring me. When he wanted to hold a grudge, he held it as long as he wanted and he did this by giving me the silent treatment.

But even if he wasn’t holding a grudge, I could hardly ask him what to do on a date.

When we’d run he’d been seventeen. He’d only had a handful of dates by then. And since then, his dates included getting some woman in a bar drunk then getting in her pants either in his car or while I made myself scarce and he had fun in our hotel room.

I didn’t suspect this was the same kind of date Grayson Cody gave a woman.

My brother couldn’t help me.

And I needed help.

And I knew who not only could help, but would.

I just didn’t know if I could find her.

But I was going to try.

I flipped closed the semi-stolen/mostly-borrowed library book I was not reading but still was holding close to my face, dropped it on the bed and rolled off.

Then I grabbed my jacket, scarf and purse, shrugging, wrapping and strapping them on.

Then I hit the door, muttering, “Be back.”

Casey didn’t even tear his eyes from the TV.

Really, he could hold a serious grudge.

I left him to it, ducked out of the room and hurried through the cold, late afternoon sidewalks of Mustang to the square.

Let her be there, let her be there, let her be there, my mind chanted as, head down, shoulders hunched, I walked through the cold.

I pushed through the door of The Rambler and looked right to the bar.

She was there.

Thank you, I whispered in my head.

Her eyes came to me as I headed to the bar, not the opposite end with my back to the wall, the near end with my back to the door.

“Hey,” she said, jerking up her chin. “Early tonight,” she remarked.

Another go at friendly. That door was still open.

Thank you, I repeated in a whisper in my head.

“Yeah, can I have a diet pop?”

She nodded, grabbed a glass, dunked it in the big ice bin and put it on the counter. Then she shot it with the soda gun.

“Heard Bud and his boys gave you trouble last night,” she said softly, curiously and carefully. She expected to be shut down.

I didn’t shut her down. I lifted my eyes from the glass to hers.

“Gray knew there’d be trouble, he was looking out for me.”

She took in a slight breath and replied, “Gray’s that way.”

More Gray intrigue.

I didn’t have time for Gray intrigue, alas.

I had a date with him that night.

“Anyway, a cop named Lenny showed up and Manny heard the commotion so Gray got backup and it all turned out okay,” I finished.

“Len’s a good man. And Manny doesn’t like trouble at his hotel. Bud, he’s a dick. He’s no stranger to trouble and Manny, or Len for that matter, especially Len, are no strangers to Bud’s brand of trouble.”

There it was. Bud spread his jerk cheer all through Mustang. Not a surprise.

“I shouldn’t have made that bet,” I muttered.

“Don’t know, girl,” she grinned. “Fifteen minutes to earn five hundred dollars? I’da made it.”

I held her gaze. Then, slowly, I grinned back.

She caught it, interpreted it correctly as the opening it was and leaned in instantly. “Where’d you learn how to play pool like that?” she asked then didn’t wait for me to answer. “Seriously, I couldn’t believe my eyes. Everyone’s talkin’ about it.”

Oh no. That was not good.

She kept speaking.

“You can’t be more than twenty-one.”

“I’m twenty-two,” I told her.

“Okay,” she grinned again, “you can’t be more than twenty-two. So, your age, how’d you learn to play pool like that?”

I wasn’t used to this. Sharing. I didn’t know how to do it. I just knew how not to.

So I told her the truth.

“I didn’t. It came naturally. I just picked up a pool cue one day and went for it. My brother flipped out. I can’t say I played then like I play now but…” I shrugged, “it just happened. It’s just something I can do.”

“Cool,” she whispered on a bigger grin.

I liked this, talking to her. It felt nice. Nice enough I could do it awhile. Nice enough, I might even be able to do it for hours.

But I had a mission.

And on that mission, I blurted, “What’s a VFW?”

Her head tilted sharply to the side and her brows drew together.

Then her head straightened, her brows drifted apart and she flat out smiled.

“Veterans of Foreign Wars,” she answered.

What on earth?

Janie kept talking.

“They got a lodge here. Veterans commune, they do shit, make money, give it to charity, have picnics, I don’t know, shit like that. And they make a mean steak. Do it as a fundraiser every Friday but also so they’ll have more reason to commune, eat meat and drink beer.”

“So, is it fancy?” I asked carefully.

She shook her head and leaned in closer, both arms on the bar. “No, babe. The steak is to die for, to kill for but it’s just a night out. Everyone’ll be there. Cool. Casual.” Her eyes held mine and she said softly, “You’re good just as you are.”

I wasn’t sure I was a big fan of “everyone’ll be there” but I still nodded.

Then she weirdly begged, “Please tell me it’s Gray.”

“Tell you what’s Gray?”

“Tell me it’s Gray who’s takin’ you to the VFW tonight.”

“It’s Gray,” I whispered.

She smiled huge.

I was surprised. I was also pleased I had her endorsement. But I was lastly confused.

“Why do you want me to tell you it’s Gray?”

She shrugged. “Don’t know. He’s Gray.”

“What’s that mean?” I asked and it was then Janie studied me.

Then she leaned in even deeper and stated. “Good people in this town, a lot of them. Bad people too but that’s the way of the world and luckily, in Mustang, there’s fewer than most places. Everywhere, there’s always that someone who’s better than the good people, better than most anyone and in Mustang, that someone is Gray.”

My breath flew clean out of me.

“So,” she went on, “you got a guy like Gray, everyone, not just me, but everyone hopes he’ll find somethin’ great. Somethin’ awesome. Somethin’ else. Lotsa sweet girls in town, gotta say, but none of them’d do the trick.” Eyes glued to mine, she finished, “Has to be someone great. Someone awesome. Someone who’s somethin’ else. Like a twenty-two year old girl who walks into a bar thinkin’ she’s invisible and not havin’ the first clue she’s movie star gorgeous. Like a twenty-two year old girl that makes scuffed cowboy boots, faded jeans and a tight henley look like haute couture. Like a twenty-two year old girl who’s sweet to cooks in a bar she’s never gonna meet because she needs food but she don’t wanna put ‘em out when it’s almost quittin’ time. Like a twenty-two year old girl that sizes Bud Sharp up, sees his fancy-ass clothes, knows, she takes a good look in the mirror, she could bring him to his knees and make him beg and live the big life even if it’s in a small town, and she wants no part of a dick like him. Like a twenty-two year old girl who’s got her secrets and holds ‘em close but cares enough about Grayson Cody, she lays out her cards to make sure, when he asks her on a date, she doesn’t go out on his arm and make him look bad. Like you, who could open your door to Gray tonight lookin’ exactly like you look, wearin’ exactly what you’re wearin’, and, I’m tellin’ you, he won’t be disappointed and no one, not Gray, not anyone in this town, not anyone on this goddamned planet would take a look at you two and not think you belong together.”

I’d had a lot of experience hiding behind a guard that was unshakable.

But not enough not to be left breathing heavy with my hand flat on the bar and my eyes trembling with wet as I stared at a woman I did not know who said the nicest things to me that I’d ever heard in my twenty-two years.

“I’ll end with this, babe,” she whispered. “I don’t know what you got goin’ on, it’s a small town, you look the way you look, you play pool the way you play pool, you catch Gray Cody’s eye and he steps up for you, word’s gonna spread. Everyone’s talkin’. You decide to let go whatever you got goin’ on, I was close on puttin’ up a sign in my window. I need help. I don’t know what you do but I do know men in seven counties would come to The Rambler to buy a beer from you. You want the job, it’s yours. You need a place to hang ‘til you get your shit together, I own this joint including up top. Mostly storage and the rest ain’t much, but it’s got a kitchenette and a bathroom. You’re welcome to it until you get on your feet. A month, two. Then, you wanna stay, we talk rent. You wanna find somethin’ nicer, you keep smilin’, lookin’ as flat out gorgeous as you are and sellin’ the hell outta beer, we’re good. You don’t want that and take off, I get that. Life is life. But that offer is on the table. Yeah?”

I was still breathing heavily to stop the wet from spilling over when I nodded.

“Diet’s on the house,” she muttered then grinned.

I pulled my lips in and bit them.

Then I let them go and grinned back.

Then I pulled in a heavy breath.

Then I grabbed my diet and took a sip.

Then I set it down with great care, my eyes on the glass and my hand executing this maneuver like judges were sitting at the end of the bar who would flip up numbers that would grade my performance.

Then I tipped my eyes to Janie’s and whispered, “Thank you, Janie.”

“Thank me with your name,” she returned.

“Ivey.” I was still whispering.

“Ivey,” she shoved her hand at me, “nice to meet ‘cha.”

I looked at her hand. Then I took it. Then I looked back at her.

“You too.”

Then I smiled.