After Love (10 page)

Which brought her to another change of plans. What she had decided would be a one-and-done kind of deal was now open-ended. No one had been more surprised than she when she'd heard herself voicing the proposal for an ongoing arrangement. She tried to excuse it as overloaded hormones. But the sex had been so good that once—or twice—wasn't enough. A couple more times wouldn't hurt…or five or six. If they were all as good as tonight, maybe seven or eight. But that would be it. It would be over.

She was having second thoughts about going to his grandmother's place. But since she lived so close, it would be a neighborly visit as much as for Harley's benefit. Jamie was concerned about how Harley would respond to the kids. She had never taken him around any children, so she had no idea how he'd act. Some dogs had no tolerance for the noise and hyperactivity, and she didn't want Harley to be put into a situation he couldn't handle. The last thing she wanted was for a child to get hurt by one of her animals.

It was part of her job to make sure the placement fit, so this was a business call…nothing more.

But as she got ready for bed in her kennel bedroom, she had a smile on her face. It would be fun to spend the day away from Woof Gang. And damn it, she deserved to have a little fun. The fact that Nick would be there too had absolutely no bearing on her decision. He was just a friend…with great benefits.

Grammy's house sat squarely on top of a hill southwest of Austin at the edge of the wine country. The once-ornate iron gates were hanging by rust-encrusted hinges and were held open by a pile of limestone rocks. The memories of countless Sundays rattled in Nick's mind as the white gravel from the long drive ricocheted off his truck's undercarriage.

Nick's grandmother, like a Japanese soldier on a deserted island who had never heard the war was over, was a 1960s surfer chick–turned–hippie who still thought the sixties were alive and well. Pot smoking, incense burning, and opposed to any music from after 1980, she had been the cover model for the front of a record album in 1964. Having a baby when she was only eighteen hadn't slowed her down a bit. Nick had heard the stories from his dad, who had grown up on communes and in an old VW bus, following bands on the road, but Nick simply could not visualize his grandmother as a hot, young groupie. Not that he'd want to…

Jamie rolled the window up to keep out the dust after they turned off the main highway. Harley sat alertly watchful in the backseat between two six-year-old boys, Brad and Brent, both of whom were focused on their handheld video games.

“Amazing piece of property,” Jamie said. “I always wished my place was on a hill with a view.”

“Lots of good memories here. Grammy was our family after Mom and Dad died.”

Jamie pointed at Grammy's VW bus, now permanently parked in the middle of tall grass, mesquite, and prickly pear cactus. “That's a classic.”

“Grammy took us everywhere in that bus. When the engine burned up for the third time just two years ago, she had it towed back to this field, then held a wake for it. Hundreds of people came out. It was the event of the year.” Nick shook his head and smiled as the memory of that crazy party flashed through his mind.

“She has lots of friends?”

“Everyone from the sixties who was involved in music—that is, anyone still alive—showed up. It was…colorful.” Nick glanced over at Jamie. “I have to warn you…Grammy is not a typical grandmother.”

“Knowing you, I would have guessed that,” Jamie responded with a smile.

The two-story house was about the same era as Jamie's, but larger. A wide porch wrapped around three sides, held up by carved posts. The wood siding was white, but it was badly in need of a fresh coat of paint. The shutters and the front door were painted a vivid shade of violet, and all the trim, including the porch rails, was a cornflower blue.

They parked in front of the old farmhouse between a white Ford Explorer vintage and a canary yellow Mustang convertible.

“Nice pony.” Jamie looked at it longingly.

“Grammy's new wheels…actually, old wheels. It's a 1965, but she just got it….A gift from an old friend.” Nick shook his head and frowned. “I never ask too many questions because there are things grandkids don't need to know about their grandparents. The Explorer is Justin's Ranger-mobile. Looks like Luke didn't make it, which isn't unusual. He works for Homeland Security and spends a lot of time in DC.”

The kids tumbled out of the truck, but Harley waited impatiently to follow them. He had never been around children before and was clearly fascinated by these little people who had hugged him and fawned over him when they'd met earlier today.

Nick and Jamie got out and told Harley to jump down, which he eagerly did. The air was filled with smells, some he recognized and others that were new and intriguing. There were cows and horses in the pasture, a couple goats and some alpacas in a large pen, and a small yard full of chickens.

Harley lifted his black muzzle and captured all the aromas that floated on the breeze, saving them for future reference. His brain had a section that was devoted exclusively to analyzing scents, which made his sense of smell forty times greater than his people's. Suddenly he leaped forward, pulling the leash out of Nick's hand. Harley charged up the steps, straight to the tall, thin woman standing at the top. He sat next to her, his eyes staring at the pocket of her skirt.

The boys had reached her first, their arms wrapped around her waist in a big hug, which she happily returned.

“Can we go see the animals?” they asked in their high-pitched voices. “Can we? Please?”

“Sure, just remember not to walk behind the horses, and don't let the goats eat your shirts like they did last time,” Grammy told them. “Your mother wasn't too pleased about that.”

“We won't,” they promised simultaneously, and jostled with each other as they ran down the steps and toward the big red barn.

“They look just like you,” Jamie said.

“Considering that their mother slept around, that's a miracle,” Nick retorted, still bitter after all those years. In spite of his feelings about his ex-wife, he watched the boys with paternal pride as they scrambled over the fence and into a small pasture that held two black and white paint Welsh ponies. Nick and his brothers had all learned to ride on the parents of those ponies, and the tradition continued with the new generation.

“Glad you could make it,” Grammy proclaimed. “And this must be Harley.” She looked down at the dog, who was sitting at attention next to her, his gaze focused on her with burning intensity. She wore a long prairie skirt and tie-dyed T-shirt, with her long, curly, steel gray hair pulled back into a ponytail.

“Grammy, you're killing me,” Nick said.

“I don't know what you're talking about.”

“You've got a joint in your pocket, don't you?” Nick asked.

“I might,” she admitted with an unapologetic grin.

“I'm a DEA agent, and Harley's a drug dog. What are we supposed to do with you?”

“Arrest me,” Grammy challenged nonchalantly. She leaned over and petted Harley, whose concentration didn't waver.

“I should. Maybe a night in jail would be good for you,” Nick retorted.

“Ha! Like I haven't been to jail before.” She chuckled. “The first time was back in '67…or was it '68? Anyway, me and a bunch of other women burned our bras in the street outside the Playboy Club in San Francisco. I haven't worn a bra since.”

Nick covered his ears. “TMI, Grammy. I could have lived the rest of my life without knowing that. Besides, there are kids here.”

Grammy glanced over at the boys, who were feeding the goats handfuls of clover. “Your kids can't hear me.”

“I wasn't talking about them,” Nick snorted. “I was talking about me and Jamie.”

“Pot isn't any worse than alcohol, and I know you've taken a drink or two in your life,” Grammy continued.

Jamie laughed. “Come on, Nick…it's medicinal, right?”

Grammy chuckled. “Who's the pretty gal? And smart too.”

“This is Jamie. She trains service dogs.” Nick completed the introductions. “Jamie, this is my outlaw grandmother.”

“Hello, Jamie…Welcome,” Grammy said, and beckoned her to come up on the porch.

“Nice to meet you, Grammy.” Jamie smiled and walked up the steps.

Nick joined her, grabbed Harley's leash, and unclipped it from his collar. “Good boy, Harley. Why don't you take the day off?” He pulled the white towel out of his pocket and allowed Harley to have a quick game of tug-of-war.

Justin, looking like a younger version of Robert Redford, stepped out from the house. He and Nick were about the same height, but Justin was immaculately dressed in Dockers and a dress shirt with the long sleeves rolled up to just below his elbows. His golden blond hair was neatly trimmed and his face clean shaven, unlike Nick who, no matter how often he shaved, always seemed to have a five o'clock shadow.

“Hey bro.” Justin gave Nick a fist bump.

“Justin, this is Jamie. She owns the company that matched me with Harley.”

He smiled and reached out to shake Jamie's hand.

She returned his handshake while staring at him with open admiration.

Holy hell, am I going to lose another girl to my brother?
Nick groaned to himself.

Justin leaned over and petted Harley before saying to Grammy, “I forgot to tell you, Nick has a funny story about caffeine to tell you.” He laughed and winked at Nick.

“The Rangers know about that?” Nick asked in disbelief.

“If there was video, it'd be viral by now.” Justin leaned against the rail, looking like the cover model of a romance novel.

“Nothing bad ever happens to Justin,” Nick explained without jealousy. He had long ago accepted that his brother was superior in every way. But it had been a powerful motivator for the other two brothers to get out and make their own mark in the world. “We always called him Golden Boy because he was so perfect.”

“It's not his fault he's attractive; it's all in the DNA,” Jamie teased.

“She's right, Nick,” Grammy commented. “One of the guys I used to date was really gorgeous….I mean, all the women were hot for him, but I got him. Problem was, he wasn't the brightest bulb in the chandelier, if you know what I mean. Hmm…I can't remember his name.”

“Jeez, I wonder why not?” Nick muttered.

“Back off, Nicky. You're not on the clock today either.” Grammy looked at Justin. “You boys know the rules….Leave your badges and your egos at the gate. Let's sit down and enjoy a beautiful June day in Texas.”

There were a half dozen rocking chairs, and they sat in four that were on the west corner of the porch so they could keep an eye on the boys, who had moved on to the alpaca pen. The adults rocked peacefully for a few moments.

Jamie spoke first. “This place is beautiful. How many acres?” She held her hand above her eyes to shield the sun so she could take it all in.

“Right at forty,” Grammy answered. “You live in Austin, Jamie?”

“Oh no, not me,” Jamie was quick to reply. “I have twenty acres just west of here, actually only about two miles from here, as the crow flies. My brother and I have some kennels, and we raise a few cattle and horses.” She glanced over at Nick and smiled.

“What's Luke up to these days?” Nick asked.

“Some kind of emergency project,” Grammy answered. “Of course, he couldn't say.”

“We may never see him again,” Nick commented. “Our borders are like sieves with big holes, and drugs are just pouring through. If Luke would do his job, Justin and I would have a lot less work to do.”

“Sounds like job security.” Grammy laughed. “You should thank him.”

“Yeah, right…like that's going to happen.” Nick scoffed.

“What's for lunch? I'm starved.” Justin clapped his hands in anticipation of the answer.

“You boys go pick the corn,” Grammy said. “Jamie, have you ever cut okra?”

“Yes, ma'am, I have,” Jamie said.

Grammy gave her a fierce look. “I'm not ma'am. I'm Grammy. When the boys got old enough to call me something, I picked
Grammy
because my Grammy is one of my prized possessions.”

“Wow, I've never met anyone who has a Grammy,” Jamie declared in awe.

“I wrote a little song and sang backup for a great country singer named Roger Elliott, and it was a big crossover hit. Ever hear of Roger?”

“I think my mother had a couple of his albums.” Jamie was leaning forward, completely fascinated by the conversation and this colorful woman.

Grammy's expression grew wistful. “He was a lovely man. We were on the road a lot, touring.” She blinked and looked away. “He died last year.”

“I'm so sorry to hear that.” Jamie's condolence was genuine. She reached out and patted Grammy's hand as it rested on the curved arm of the rocking chair.

“He was quite a bit younger than I was, but what a charmer.”

“What about Papa?” Nick barely remembered his grandfather, who had died when Nick was very young. He had always known Papa wasn't his real grandfather, but he was the only one Nick and Justin had ever known. Luke had missed out completely.

“Oh, Papa was a good man. He came along at a time when my career was stalled, and I was ready to put down roots.” Grammy tossed her head and straightened her shoulders. “Enough about old lovers…Back to dinner. My neighbor, Al, gave me a big ham. His kid got married last week and he couldn't take his 4-H project with him to Dallas. I went to the wedding.” She rolled her eyes. “Frankly, he should have kept the pig.” She pushed herself out of the chair. “The potatoes are peeled and cut up. I just have to turn them on.”

“Sounds wonderful. All fresh.” Jamie smiled.

“Now scoot out and bring back the rest of the meal.” Grammy picked up a basket, which she handed to Nick, and a bucket with a small knife in it for Jamie.

Justin led the way, with Nick, Jamie, and Harley tagging along behind. Grammy's garden was about fifty feet behind the house and surrounded by a six-foot-tall deerproof fence to keep out the abundant wildlife in the area. There were ten rows of corn, taller than Jamie and heavy with plump ears ready to pick. Nick and Justin started to pick immediately while Jamie walked down the long row of okra, shopping the plants like the grocery store vegetable aisle, selecting only the perfect pods, ignoring four or five for each one she carefully cut and dropped into the bucket.

Justin and Nick picked the eight ears required, and Justin took the corn into the house so Grammy could shuck it and start cooking. Nick wandered over to help Jamie.

“Grammy's a hoot,” she commented.

“Because she breaks the law every day of her life, and her three grandsons are all law officers? Ironic, huh?” Nick plucked a large red tomato off a bush in the next row and took a juicy bite. He held it out to Jamie, who also took a big bite.

“Maybe she really needs it,” Jamie commented.

“That would mean that she's been sick since she was fourteen.” Nick took another bite and wiped the juice off his chin. “I don't know how all of us boys managed to not be druggies or dealers.”