Beauty Queen (37 page)

She had never been kissed with such fierce passion, and Rebecca melted, just like in the movies, right into his arms, clinging to him, and if she could have crawled inside him, she would have. Her hands sought his face, his

shoulders, his arms, the broad sweep of his chest. She could feel him hard and lean all the way down to her toes, and she remembered, oh God, she remembered that night on his couch, remembered his mouth, his hands, all his painstaking, patient efforts to free her from the four-year curse, and felt the river of desire flowing through her again.

And when she thought shed simply melt into a puddle on the dock, Matt lifted his head. His gray eyes were swimming with an emotion she could not name. He traced the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, kissed her tenderly once more. You are going to get cleaned up, and I am going to spend some time with Grayson. And then we are all going to get a burger, you, me, Gray, Jo Lynn, the whole damn town of Ruby Falls if you want. Then I am going to teach Grayson how to be a boy and hunt some goddamn frogs. And then, Rebecca . . . you and I are going to talk. Not shout, not throw things, not compete. Talk. You and me. You know we have to do it.

Rebecca touched a finger to his lip, marveling how this man had just kissed her so thoroughly, like he meant every word he said. Still bossy, she said with a hint of a smile. What if I say no?

Then youll just have to shoot me, he said, flashing that fabulous George Clooney grin, because I wont take no for an answer.

Okay, she said weakly. Your gun or mine?

Matt chuckled, wrapped her tightly in his arms for a long moment, hugging the living daylights out of her.

And Rebecca felt her neck go all prickly and warm.

Matt walked Rebecca back to the house, their arms looped around each others waists, with a full coterie of dogs to flank them. They said good-bye to Jo Lynn, who had a knowing smile on her face. Probably because Matt was smiling like a madhouse idiot as she jumped on her golf cart and drove away. When she had disappeared into the woods, Matt followed Rebecca and Grayson inside,

still smiling that fools smile as Rebecca washed Graysons hands and face.

Why are you laughing, Mom? Grayson asked, looking at her face, reaching up to touch the wet tail of hair falling over her shoulder. The very same wet tail of hair which Matt had the incredible urge to touch, too.

I dont know, honey, she said, her smile broadening. Okay, youre all clean and Im going to grab a shower. Will you be all right with Matt?

Yes! he shouted.

She laughed, tousled his hair, then looked shyly at Matt. Okay?

Was she kidding? More than okay, he said, winking at his young partner in crime. Come on, pal. Lets go out and see what those ugly dogs are up to.

Come on! Grayson cried, already pulling Matt outside. Reluctantly, Matt looked at Rebecca, who was still standing there, smiling like a silly little girl, a wistful expression in her eyes that stirred the man in him. But Grayson yanked hard on his hand, wanting his attention all to himself, and the two of them burst out onto the back porch, where the four dogs came to instant and rapt attention. Only then did Grayson let go of Matt so he could point out his best friends Tater (his favorite); Tot, the three-legged beagle; Frank, the big brown dog with the John Wayne swagger; and last but not least, Bean. Mom says hes not very smart, Grayson said. Plus, hes blind in one eye. And he might not hear, either, but the doctor isnt sure because hes really dumb.

And Bean looked really dumb, poor bastard. I know how he feels, Matt remarked, which drew a curious look from Grayson. I feel pretty dumb sometimes.

Do you have a blind eye? Grayson asked, letting go of Tater.

In a manner of speaking, Matt said, to which Grayson screwed his face up with confusion. The thing is, Matt said, motioning to the tables and chairs that were perfectly arranged, of course, at the end of the porch, sometimes I

get mad and say things I shouldnt. Like that night we were in the garage of the Four Seasons, and I was shouting at your mom, he said, taking a seat.

Grayson followed his lead, scooching up on one of the wicker seats until his feet were a half foot off the ground. He gave Matt his somber attention, was doing that little man thing, and Matt leaned forward, propped his elbows on his knees. You ever run off at the mouth and wish you hadnt? he asked earnestly.

I dunno.

Man, I have. I dont do it very often, but when I lose it, I definitely let it fly. Like that night I wasnt very nice, and now Im trying to make it up to your mom. You know, tell her how sorry I am.

Grayson nodded.

I want to say I am sorry to you, too, pal. That wasnt cool, all that yelling.

Mom cried, Grayson informed him; he might as well have stuck a knife in Matts gut.

I shouldnt have lost my temper, he said, shaking his head. Theres no excuse for that, ever.

Okay, Grayson said somberly.

But you know how it is, you just get some idea in your head and the next thing you know, youre thinking all kinds of crap that isnt right. And the thing is, I really like your mom, so it was really stupid. You know what Im saying?

Uh-huh.

Matt sighed, looked at the boy. Im really sorry, Grayson.

Its okay, Grayson said cheerfully.

So I was thinking, Matt said, forgetting, momentarily, that he was not talking to a midget man, but a little boy, that when she gets out of the shower, wed all hang out together a little while, then go get a burger. You and me and your mom. After that, if its okay with your mom, you and I can go hunt some frogs, because dude, you have to hunt frogs at night. And when we catch a couple

Yeah!

and put them in a box, then maybe you and the dogs

can go to bed so I can talk to your mom and tell her how sorry I am, just like Im telling you Im sorry. What do you think?

You could get Mom some ice cream, Grayson suggested. She always smiles when she eats ice cream.

Ice cream? Matt asked, surprised. Most women he knew avoided ice cream like the plague, lest it go straight to their thighs. Rebecca said she never touched the stuff, and barely touched the cup he had bought her at Amys that afternoon.

Mom really likes it. She eats it every day. Sometimes twice. And she has tons of buckets of it. But you have to ask first.

Wait back up. Matt said, confused. Your mom has, tons of buckets of ice cream?

Come on, Ill show you, Grayson said, jumping up from his seat and running for the back door. Curious, Matt got up and followed him into the kitchen, where one of those big, industrial-size refrigerators dominated one wall. Using two hands, Grayson yanked open the freezer side of it.

Matt took a deep breath. Held it.

Inside on half of that industrial fridge was container after container of ice cream. Gallons, half gallons, pints, ice cream bars, and ice cream cups. There was chocolate, vanilla, rocky road, butter pecan, banana .. . lots of flavors with funky names, like Making Whoopie Pie and Blue Lagoonba every conceivable flavor a man could imagine ... but nothing else. There was not a single frozen dinner, no meat, no vegetables, no ice even. Just ice cream. Wait, Matt said, releasing his breath and finding his voice. Wheres the meat?

That one, Grayson said, pointing to a small chest freezer next to the dishwasher.

Astounded, Matt turned and looked at the freezer again. I think you might have a good idea here, sport, he said, scratching his head as he gaped at the freezer, and wondered how in the hell someone as near perfect as Rebecca Lear could hide so much ice cream. In her house and in her body.

Which was one of the reasons he was looking at her so intently when she came walking out on the porch, wearing a blue-green slip of a dress that hugged her body. On her feet were matching sandals; her hair was brushed back into a soft, silky tail that fell down her back. She wore just a touch of turquoise jewelry, enough to bring out the pale blue of her eyes. Rebecca looked, as always, absolutely amazing.

But how in the hell could she be eating all that ice cream?

Apparently, that was all she was eating, judging by the way she picked at the monster burger he bought her at Sams Corner Hamburger Hut (which was, as one might have guessed, right across the street from Sams Corner Grocery and Sams Corner Video). Matt and Rebecca sat across from each other, listening and laughing at Graysons amazingly long and convoluted story of a Yu-Gi-Oh! card that he and Taylor had stolen back and forth, which apparently ended with a badly torn card and two kids in the preschool administrators office.

At the end of Graysons earnestly told tale, Rebecca looked sheepishly at Matt. Hes having some anger management issues, she confided in him.

Anger management? Matt snorted. Hes getting picked on and hes taking care of it... arent you, Grayson?

Im going to pound his face in! Grayson declared, to which Matt gave him a thumbs-up. And then Im going to get on the top of the school and jump on him, and then Im going to kick him and put dog poop in his face, and

Grayson, Rebecca said calmly. Thats enough. Remember what we talked about dog poop does not belong in anyones face.

Okay, so maybe the kid needed to turn it down a notch, but the bottom line was, he was a boy, and boys figured out their problems with their fists. Grayson would grow out of it; all boys did. But anger management? Sounded like more mumbo-jumbo crap, and if there was one thing Matt wished for Rebecca, it was that she would get that stuff out of her lovely head.

They returned to Rebeccas lake house just as the sun was beginning to set, and Rebecca obliged Matts request for a pail, a flashlight, and a barbeque fork (although she objected to the fork, but not as loudly as she objected to Matts attempt to explain its purpose), and away they went, two guys out to do a little frog giggin.

Rebecca stood on the back porch and watched them walking down the long stretch of lawn, the dogs trailing lazily behind, Grayson struggling with the pail he had insisted on carrying as he looked up at Matt with pure adoration.

She hadnt realized at least not so clearly as in this momentthat a man like Matt was exactly what her son needed. She had thought he needed his father, but it was more than that he needed a man he could look up to. That very basic and unfulfilled need was what made Grayson so angry with her when he came home from a visit with Bud. He wanted a dad and he wanted his dad to be like Matt. And he was too young to understand why he couldnt have both a mom and a dad like he deserved. Rebecca could remember feeling that way, too. Shed been a little older, but the need for both parents had been as real to her as it was to Grayson now.

In Matt, hed found a male figure to make up for the absence of a rotten father. That Matt didnt seem to mind, and in fact, seemed to like Graysons company, touched her heart so thoroughly that her eyes were suddenly burning with gratitude.

Oh, man. Oh, man ... she was in too deep, over her head. Graysons infatuation with Matt could not possibly be a good idea. She wasnt part of Toms campaign anymore and she feared setting her son up for more disappointment.

But would it be another disappointment? Was she making an assumption that she and Matt could not see each other, could not even be friends, not really, not after the things they had said to each other that night at the Four Seasons? If they couldnt really, then what did she make of that kiss on the dock? What about the electricity that had

flowed between them, had always flowed between them? And did the man who had a reputation of having been with every woman around town spark that electricity in everyone, or was it hers alone? Was it possible she had fallen under his charming spell once again and was giving in too quick? Was she being played for a fool? Or was it possible that for once, she could trust her instincts? Was it even possible that she could, for perhaps the first time in her life, act on her instincts?

Shitshitshit... this was such difficult territory, such ominous caverns and valleys and peaks in her mind and heart that she had never before explored. Most of her adult life shed been with the same man, in the last few years, shed been with that man almost hating him, certainly resenting him, wishing things were different. Her days had been filled with regret, not hope. Was this hope?

She picked up a paperback and sat on the back porch, but her mind was racing; she was too full of doubtful questions and wishful thinking to read. Just a few days ago she had decided to eschew all the self-help stuffthe lifelines she had clung to in the last year. She had decided to go with her gut, whatever may come. And her gut had told her to stay as far away from a pompous Matt Parrish as she could get. Now she didnt know what to think; she couldnt seem to find her true north.

Welcome to your life, Rebecca. Nothing is certain anymore.

All she knew was that this man, for whatever reason, lit a fire in her like no man had ever done before, and she really didnt know how to turn away from that. Or even if she should. Or even if she could.

When Matt and Grayson returned an hour or so later, Rebecca was still sitting on the back porch, still holding the book from which she had not read a single word, still paralyzed by conflicting emotions. It therefore took her a moment to notice that Matts pants were rolled up to his knees, and that he was carrying his boots. His white shirt was splattered with mud, and Grayson and the dogs were soaking wet.

Find any frogs? she asked dryly, while hoping to high heaven they would not actually show her any gigged frogs.

No, Grayson moaned, clearly disappointed. They wouldnt come out!

It didnt help that old Bean here was doing his own version of frog hunting, Matt said as he leaned up against the railing of the porch. Theres something seriously wrong with that dog. He smiled at the sound of Rebeccas laughter. So what have you been doing while we were watching Bean eat frogs?

Reading.

Matt looked at her book. Must be riveting.

Rebecca glanced down, noticed that her book was upside down, and quickly put it aside. Well! she said brightly, gaining her feet and running her damp palms down the side of her hips. I know a little boy who needs a bath!