Undercover Engagement (4 page)

L
unch was an exercise in self-censorship. “Remember, Happy Couple Plan B,” Jason whispered in my ear when he pulled my seat out. “Follow my lead.”

Crap
.

Dad offered the prayer over the hoagie sandwiches. I’m not sure how much the potato chips were going to “nourish and strengthen” my body, but hey, I was all for it.

“Alright, Hank, you can start your interrogation.” Mom gave Jason a wink.

Dad started off easy enough. How’d we meet? What did Jason do? Then, he unexpectedly blindsided him. “What exactly are your intentions with my daughter?”

I had been waiting for
the
question. Dad dropped the same bomb on Paul from behind his 20-aught 6. I figured Jason got off lucky; all Dad had this time was a fork full of noodle salad.  I made doe eyes at Jason as he coughed into his napkin. It was kind of fun to watch him squirm.

I could have helped the poor guy, but I was just
following his lead
.

“Well, Sir, I enjoy Alyssa’s company.” He glanced at me, taking in my supposed innocence. His shoulders squared. He was totally on to me. “What I really want to do is whisk her away for a romantic weekend in Cancun.”

My dad stopped chewing. I heard the whole thing through his fatherly ears.

Romantic weekend = I’m after your daughter’s virtue.

I tried to kick Jason under the table, but he was enjoying watching
me
squirm.

“I have ownership in a gorgeous hotel down there.” He went on to describe the color of the water, the warm sand, and the hotel amenities, until my mom interrupted with a nervous giggle.

I jumped up from my seat. “Thanks for lunch, Mom. I’m going to take Jason out to do chores.”

My purple father stared hard at his almost empty plate – silent. Pulling Jason from his seat, I pushed him to the front door. “What did I...?”

“Just go.” I shoved.

“Give Millie her medicine, it’s in the trunk,” Mom called.

“Okay.”

Once outside, I stomped to the garage. The keys waited in the four-wheeler. Out here, we didn’t need bullet proof glass or metal plates in our car doors. If you couldn’t find the key in the ignition, then someone left it in their jeans and it would come out in the wash.

I started it up and backed it out, almost running over Jason’s toes.

“Sorry.”

He did look sorry.

I slumped, my angst deflated.

“I was only joking with them. I guess I got a little too comfortable too fast.”

“Ya think?”

He put his hand on top of mine on the gear shift. “I couldn’t tell him what my real intentions are. Plan B, remember.”

“I know.” I wrapped my arms around my body. The afternoon was cooler than I thought. The idea of whipping around in the chill didn’t sound too fun. “I’m going to grab a jacket, do you want one?”

“Sure.”

My parents kept the mud room stocked with jackets, gloves, stocking caps, and boots in all sizes. I went through the garage door thinking I might as well change into some muck boots if I was going to the barn. The door opened without its usually creak.
Hmm, Dad must have finally oiled it.
I found two jackets and a pair of leather work gloves in Jason’s size. I slipped off my shoes and, just as I was about to don the black rubber boots, I heard my parents enter the kitchen. The door between the two rooms was open a crack, so their conversation carried straight to my waiting ears.

“He was only joking,” Mom said.

“It’s not something to joke about,” Dad grumbled. Dishes clattered into the sink. I crept closer to the door. “He’s too cocky. It’s all his money, he thinks it makes him invincible. I’m not impressed.”

“Of course you aren’t, dear.”

I bit my lip. Dad didn’t like him, shocker. He never liked any guy I brought home. However, I
wanted
him to like Jason and I thought at this point he’d loosen up just to get a grandbaby – after a wedding, of course.

My thoughts on marrying the guy were still jumbled, but I felt a need to defend him to my father. A few days ago I was sure they were going to love him. He’s a man’s man – just like my dad. I'd pictured them taking fishing trips together after Dad retired. Jason was polite and kind, just like my mom. I’d hoped things would run smoother but, they might have caught on to the distance I was keeping between Jason and me. Sure, we'd laughed on the drive and come to some sort of truce, but we hadn't crossed back over to that comfortable and thrilling place where we let down our guard. Jason was trying, bless his heart; but I wasn't giving much.

Dejected by Dad's low opinion of my taste in men, I turned to pick up the boots and bumped right into Jason.

I swatted at his arm. “Don’t do that!” I whispered. “How’d you sneak in like that?”

He pointed down. “Spy feet,” he whispered back. He leaned in close to my ear sending chills up my arms. “Why are we whispering?”

Dad’s voice carried through the open door. “What do you think?”

Mom cleared her throat. Jason and I held as still as statues waiting for her answer. “I get the feeling he’s hiding something. It’s almost like a section of him is veiled off,” she said.

My mother was
so
perceptive. Jason put his finger over my lips. We were standing close enough to share body warmth. I closed my eyes, breathing in his designer cologne. He leaned in, barely touching my lips with his. I was swept right out of my level-headed determination as his lips brushed mine. I shouldn't let him kiss me, mostly because it chipped away at my defenses. As my heart rate sped up, I allowed that kissing could be part of Plan B. Really, it was just for the show – even though no one was watching.

Dad slammed his hand on the counter, startling us apart. “Well, if you don’t like him, he’s not staying the night.”

Good feeling – gone.

“I didn’t say I don’t like him,” Mom countered. “I just said he’s not an easy read. I think he’s been through some tight spots.”

Tight spots? Yeah you could call people wanting to kill you tight spots. Mom’s smart
. I pointed to the door. Jason took the hint – and my hand – leading the way. Grabbing the boots, we left through the squeak-less door.

“Hop on.” Jason said from the four wheeler.

“No-” I pushed him back – “I’m driving.” I jammed the stick into reverse and gunned out of the garage. Then, I shoved it into High and warned, “Hold on, Buck-o.”

“I’m back to being Buck-o?”

“I like it.” I pressed my thumb down hard, sending us flying down the lane. Chores could wait, I needed some speed – country style.

half hour later we pulled into the barn. Racing through the ranch’s back trails released my pent up stress. I’d had years of fun trailing my brothers through the trees and the memories smoothed over my grown-up worries.

The familiar smells of earth and hay brought my thoughts back to reality where I was secretly engaged to a spy who my father was ready to kick out of the house. I kicked a rock.

I pulled Jasper out of his stall and handed Jason a shovel so he could clean it out.

Jason moved the wheel barrow in front of the stall's open door before digging in - literally.

“Whew! What do you feed these guys?” Jason asked over the dividing wall.

“Horse manure does not smell.”

Jason grunted.

I harnessed Millie and tied her off at the shoeing post just inside the barn door.

“Well, it does smell; but it smells like earth. It’s just part of the landscape around here.”

I started on Millie's stall which was quite a bit cleaner than Jasper's.

We finished in silence. Jason took the wheelbarrow out to the manure pile. After mixing Millie's medicine with some grain, I handed the bucket to Jason who had just come back. “Hold it in front of her and she’ll eat it all. Watch out, it makes her sneeze.”

“Weird,” Jason said.

I grabbed a curry comb and brushed Millie’s back, working my way down and around.

Jason’s phone beeped.

“Who’s that?”

“Mr. Stone. He wants to know how Plan B is coming.”

Millie finished the grain, so Jason sat on a bale of straw next to the post. His fingers flew as he texted back.

“What are you going to tell him?”

“N.S.G.,” he said.

“N.S.G.?”

“Not so good.” He slumped forward with his elbows on his knees.

“Why not?” I worked my way towards the front of the horse. Millie wanted more grain and stretched for the bucket at Jason’s feet.

He gave a derisive laugh. “I’ve offended your dad. Your mom thinks I’m hiding something, and you aren’t wearing the very expensive ring I bought you. N.S.G.” He put his head in his hands.

Millie stretched once more for the bucket, breathing deeply in her efforts. She must have taken in a nose full of medicine because she sneezed. Not a dainty little girl sneeze, but a great big horse sneeze – all over Jason. I bit my tongue to keep from laughing.

“Please tell me that came out of her front end,” he mumbled into his hands.

I couldn’t help it, I laughed. He looked up. Horse goo clung to every part of him except his face. I made it to the clean rag bucket and back, hardly able to breathe through the laughter. “Here, let me clean that up,” I said.

“Thanks,” Jason relaxed. He tipped his head up so I could clean it off. At the last second, I turned to Millie and wiped the rag across the horse’s nose and up her chin. “All better now?” She nickered her thanks. Jason sat speechless. I laughed again. He jumped up, looking as if he was ready to throw me in the loose hay pile in the corner. I scooted away and grabbed another cloth. “Okay, okay. I’ll help you, too.” I wiped the worst of it out of his hair and used another one to get his shoulders.

“The jacket’s going to have to be washed,” Jason noted.

“Yeah, um ... that’s my dad’s favorite jacket.” I pulled at a lock of hair behind my ear.

“What?”

“We’ll just hang it up in the mud room and he’ll never know.” Apparently some of my teenage reasoning had surfaced on my reckless ride through the trees.

He pulled out his cell phone to send a text. “What are you doing?”

“I’m downgrading my status to H.S.U.”

“What’s H.S.U.”

“Hopelessly screwed up.”

I walked Millie back to her stall. We pitched hay into the mangers and were on our way out when his phone beeped. “What did he say?” I asked.

“T.C.S.”

“What’s T.C.S?” Spy talk was as bad as teen texting.

“Take control of the situation.”

I cocked my head. “How do you plan on doing that?”

He tucked his phone in his inside pocket. “The first thing I’m going to do...” He lunged forward, picking me up in his strong arms while I squealed. “...is throw you in the straw.” He easily chucked me into the pile of hay. The landing was soft, but the flakes stuck everywhere. My hair was brutalized. I laughed as he bounded in next to me.

“Now what?” I giggled.

“I hadn’t thought much farther than this.”

My breath caught as he leaned over to kiss me again. This wasn't the soft brush he'd given me in the coat room and I slid my hands around his neck. Thoughts of spies, secret hideouts, and my thieving boss, floated away. I kissed him back until I heard another four-wheeler coming to the barn. I scrambled. Being hay-covered could be incriminating if caught by the wrong person. I prayed it was my mom on the four-wheeler and not my dad. Jason threw his hands behind his head and lounged. I threw him a nasty glare.

“He already hates me,” he said.

I rolled my eyes.

“Well, well, well,” boomed a voice I was grateful to hear.

“Matt.” I jumped into my oldest brother’s outstretched arms. “What are you doing here?”

He hugged me back, his forty-some-odd years wrinkling around his eyes when he smiled. “I just came to borrow some hay.” Matt and his family lived as close to next door as it got in the country. He let go of me and threw a bale on the back of his four-wheeler. “What are you doing here?”

“I wanted to introduce Jason to Mom and Dad.”

Jason climbed out of the hay pile and brushed off his jeans. I flushed like a sixteen-year-old on her first date. It didn’t matter that I hadn’t been sixteen for over ten years. Matt was still my oldest brother and I was still his little sister.

“Wow,” Matt said, “It must be serious if you dared to bring him home.” He shook Jason’s hand. “Nice to meet you.”

“You, too. Alyssa speaks very highly of you,” said Jason.

Matt’s eyes twinkled. “She should. I’m her favorite.”

Jason turned to me. “I thought you said Kaleb was your favorite?”

"What?” Matt picked me up, despite my protests, and threw me back in the straw.

“Matt, honestly!” I gave him my best younger-sister glare from my landing spot.

“You can’t be too mad. I just gave you an excuse for the flakes in your hair.” He climbed back on the four-wheeler. “I’ll tell Dad it was me that threw you in so he won’t know you were out here kissin'. Bye.” He waved over his shoulder as he sped toward the house.

I shook my head. How could I not love a brother like that? Jason smiled and offered me his hand. The barn, nestled next to the mountain, dropped into shadow as the sun slipped behind the tree tops. A chill washed through the air. “Let’s get back inside.”

I sighed. Back to mediating between my dad and Jason. Sometimes being the only girl was hard.