he got moving, too, past the rows of bedrooms on each side of the hall.
“Not that I can recall. Wait... I do remember Mom mentioning a Loretta. She used to babysit us, I think.”
And apparently diaper them.
“Well, she’s here,” Garrett added. “She’s the one who claims Mom said she could stay.”
“Maybe Mom meant they could stay for the day or something. You know, for, like, a picnic.” More static, more noise, too, and he thought some of that noise was coming from a TV. Since the static was hurting his ears, Garrett put the call on speaker and kept searching for the elusive Mrs. Marlow.
“Garrett?” he finally heard his mother say. “You’ve had three calls on your office phone. All from women. I don’t think they’re calling about business, either. Now that you’re divorced, I think they want to get in your pants.”
Garrett groaned. That was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.
“It’s not right,” his mother went on. “Those women just want to use you.”
Yes, and if his mind ever got back to a good place, he just might let those women get in his pants until he could work his way through a jumbo box of condoms.
“And speaking of the divorce, Meredith called, too, when she couldn’t reach you on your cell phone,” his mother continued before he could speak. “She said she needed to see you about something. Wouldn’t say what exactly. Needless to say, I don’t approve. I don’t think it’s right for your ex-wife to want to get into your pants.”
He’d been wrong. This was the last thing he wanted to talk to his mother about.
Garrett finally managed to get a word in edgewise. “Mom, I’m calling about Loretta Cunningham. I’m out at Z.T.’s house now, and she’s here.”
“Loretta’s there?” She sounded overjoyed about that. And static-y. Since the static was only getting worse, he stopped walking, hoping that would help with the signal. “She used to watch you kids for me when I needed a break. She’s the one who gave me that homemade ointment that cleared up the rash on your tushy.”
He would have groaned again if it’d do any good. “Please focus, Mom. Did you tell Loretta she could stay at Z.T.’s place?”
“No, of course not.”
Instant relief. He could be the asshole after all and demand that the women leave. He could even pay them for the cleaning they’d done. Then, he could get that work crew in to deal with the pond and fence.
“Any idea why Loretta thought you’d told her she could stay here?” Garrett pressed.
But the line went dead. While it would have been nice to hear what his mother had to say about that, it wasn’t necessary.
“Garrett Granger?” someone said. It was a woman, and she stepped out from the last bedroom at the end of the hall.
Because of the shot lights, Garrett couldn’t see her that well, but she started walking toward him. “Yeah. And you are?”
“Nicky Marlow.”
Ah, finally. “There’s been a misunderstanding.” On your part, Garrett wanted to add. “My mother didn’t give Loretta permission to stay here.”
“No,” she calmly agreed, and she took something from the canvas bag she had in her hand. It was still hard to see, but it looked like some papers. “But she gave me permission. Actually, she gave me a one-year lease.”
Shit. His stomach landed near his kneecaps. No. This couldn’t be true.
She came closer, thrusting that paper at him. The lease, no doubt. The one that his mother better not have signed. Garrett snatched it from her and had a look for himself.
His stomach flopped down to the dusty floor. Because that was indeed a lease, indeed his mother’s signature.
He looked up to tell the woman that one way or another, the lease had to be broken. But the argument died on his lips when he looked at her face. That’s because this wasn’t Mrs. Marlow. This was Nicky Henderson.
The cute blonde flute player Garrett had deflowered seventeen years ago. And then dumped.
Not exactly good memories.
Apparently not for her, either. Judging from the way Nicky’s mouth tightened, this was one woman in Wrangler’s Creek who had absolutely no desire to get in his pants.
IT WASN’T EASY for her to stare down the man with whom she’d made her awkward sexual debut, but Nicky managed it. It helped that Garrett wasn’t exactly giving her the smoldering looks he had the night of said debut. In fact, once he got past the initial shock of seeing her, he started glaring.
All in all, he was a good glarer, too. Sharp, precise and with a smidge of I’m in charge here so get lost.
Nicky hadn’t seen him in seventeen years, not since they’d graduated from high school, but he hadn’t changed that much. By some measures anyway. He still had the thick dark brown hair that looked as if he’d just climbed out of bed after having sex. The same sizzling blue eyes that coordinated well with the smoldering looks. But there was something different about him, too. Something she knew a little too well.
Life had smacked Garrett Granger upside the head with a proverbial two-by-four. She recognized the world weariness, the impatience. The slight F-you attitude.
“My mother was wrong to give you that lease,” he growled. Speaking had to be hard with his jaw muscles that tight.
“She signed it,” Nicky pointed out, and she took the lease from him because he looked ready to vaporize it with his glare. She had other copies, but she didn’t want to have to go back to San Antonio to get them. That would mean a forty-five-minute drive.
He cursed. Stopped. And Nicky thought maybe he’d remembered that he was the “nice” Granger brother, but she followed his gaze over her shoulder where she spotted her daughter, Kaylee, who was coming out of the bedroom that Nicky had just been cleaning.
“Gar-if,” Kaylee greeted. She went to Garrett as if they were best buds and took his hand. “See my room.”
“How do you know my daughter?” Nicky asked at the same moment, Garrett said, “This is your daughter?”
Nicky nodded. Garrett gave her another dose of stink eye that he thankfully didn’t aim at Kaylee. Because if he had, Nicky would have let her own F-you attitude kick in, and she would have shown him the door. It didn’t matter that he was a Granger because he wasn’t her landlord. His mother, Belle, was.
“I met Kaylee outside earlier,” Garrett snarled. “She was poking a stick in a cow pie.”
Nicky groaned, immediately tugged Kaylee away from Garrett and checked her daughter’s hands. There was no visible poop, but she’d need the hand sanitizer. She should buy stock in the company
