Grayson's Surrender

Page 10

Gray's family of five clumped together on a flight line. He must have been about nine or ten, his brother and sister younger.
Lori had met his parents. They only lived an hour away and had joined Gray and her for dinner twice. There hadn't been time to get to know the couple who'd brought up Gray, but she'd liked what little she'd found.
She had to face it. He'd had a happy home life, didn't have hang-ups about kids. Gray simply didn't want home and hearth for himself. He preferred the bachelor life.
So what was she doing waiting around for him? As if to confirm her decision, the canned music on the phone ended and the cab dispatcher's voice asked for her information.
Lori replaced the frame and gave the woman Gray's address, an address still memorized even after a year apart.
* * *
Fifteen minutes late, Gray pulled into the apartment's parking lot. Debriefs couldn't be rushed, although he'd tried. Throughout the whole meeting, he'd worked to puzzle through a way to resolve things between Lori and him.
If he had the chance.
He couldn't shake the feeling she would leave before he returned. Maybe she'd called a friend to give her a ride.
Not that it should matter. He could track her down at her place or the hospital, and they could still see Magda together.
God knows Lori had left him flat before. Why should one more time matter? But it did. He wanted her to be waiting inside for him, like the old days.
She'd stayed over more than once. Near the end, she had almost lived there as well. He'd certainly thought asking her to move in officially would be no big deal. Wrong. It had sparked another argument, one that hadn't ended with mind-blowing make-up sex.
Stuffing the past away, he whipped the keys from his car just as another car slid into place beside him—a white Chevy Cavalier just like his mother's. He wasn't a believer in coincidence or fate, but he had the sinking feeling one of the two was about to have its way with him. Gray strapped on some much-needed bravado and opened his door.
His mother's silver-blond head soon appeared over the roof. "Hello, sugar."
Dread turned his blood to sludge. His perfectly coifed mother, a woman with inbred grace, gentility and rose-colored glasses, wouldn't be able to appreciate the nuances of his current awkward-as-hell situation with Lori.
"Hi, Mom." He circled to his mother.
Gray skated a quick look at his apartment door. Was Lori still inside? His mother would leap straight to a wealth of conclusions he didn't even want to consider, much less ex-plain. Not that she would even believe him, anyway.
"I was on my way to the commissary to stock up and thought I'd drop in to see you."
"Great."
"Why don't we step inside where it's cooler?"
Normally he wouldn't have minded. Today he would rather face a SCUD missile. "Mom, sorry I can't visit right now. I've got to run in and grab a, uh, reference book," lame, pal, "and head straight back out to see a patient."
"Oh, too bad." She smoothed wrinkles from her dress, a grandma charm bracelet chiming with each swipe. "I was hoping we could have an early supper together."
"Soon, Mom." He draped an arm around her shoulder and tucked her to his side protectively. With genuine affection, familiar and welcome between them, he dropped a kiss on her head, almost level with his, since she wore her standard heels even for shopping. "I promise."
"And you'll come up to the condo to see your father before your family farewell party?"
Ah, dishing up guilt. "Sure, Mom."
She rewarded him with her smile. "Good. I'll just get a quick glass of milk before I go. The traffic wreaked havoc on my nerves, and my stomach is simply churning."
Her stomach would be served up one hefty surprise if she walked in on Lori wearing nothing but that paper-thin T-shirt and no bra. He needed to protect his mom and Lori—hell, maybe even himself. He scrambled for a solution and came up with, "Waffle House."
"What?"
"Let me take you to Waffle House for supper."
"I thought you had to go?"
He glanced at his watch and wrestled with the need to make sure Lori didn't leave, but also to divert his mother. No choice really. He had to keep his mother out of the apartment. If Lori was still inside, she would be embarrassed if not horrified, to see them. The hospital trip to visit Magda already promised to be difficult enough without tossing this into the mix. "I can always spare an hour for my favorite mom."
"What a sweet boy." She reached for her keys. "I'll just lock my car."
"No! Uh, we should take both cars so I can leave straight for the hospital."
"And your book?"
He went blank. Just like a kid caught sneaking into the house, he couldn't concoct a single excuse. All he could do was stare out over the parking lot for ideas, not that the yellow cab pulling up offered much in the way of inspiration.
The taxi inched along, closer and closer. Horror knifed through Gray. That cab couldn't be going to—
"Mom, never mind." He shut his mother's door.
"You're right. Let's go together. I'll drive. Come on."
"Oh, okay."
The cab stopped in front of Gray's apartment. Surprise held him motionless for three precious seconds. Lori really intended to walk out on him a second time. Did he even warrant a note from her this go-round? Or did she just plan to slip away without a word again?
Useless anger chugged through him. He resisted the urge to charge over to the cab and confront her. Like that would accomplish anything productive with his mom as an audience.
He all but towed his mother to the Explorer. The driver honked his horn. Gray's mother glanced back over her shoulder just as Lori's gorgeous khaki-clad legs stepped through the apartment door. The afternoon sun caught her full in the face as she clutched the shorts and T-shirt to her breasts.
His butt was officially toast. There wasn't a chance his mom would let Lori get in that taxi without pumping her for information first. He couldn't have been more busted if Lori had strolled out the door wearing his boxers.
Chapter 6
Lori's feet grew roots in the sidewalk outside Gray's apartment. She couldn't move. Gray stalked toward her cab with his jaw set.
So much for her great escape. At least she could face him in clean clothes and underwear this time. She clutched the shorts and T-shirt closer to her chest like armor.
She forced her feet to trudge forward and plastered on a smile, weak at best. "Hi."
He ignored her and tapped on the driver's window. The window rolled down as Gray pulled out his wallet. He passed a twenty inside. "Thanks for coming out, but she doesn't need a ride now."
"I don't?" Lori said, more than a little miffed at his high-handedness and more than a little unsettled by his closeness.
"Sorry I'm late." He gripped her elbow and stepped away from the car.
But he was only a few minutes late, and they both knew it. He had to realize she'd called for the ride at least an hour ago. Why the pretense that she hadn't been running like a coward?
Her answer strolled over in neat heels and a tidy sun-dress. Gray's mother.
Lori clutched the incriminating clothes closer to her chest. "Hello, Angela."
Undisguised curiosity glinted from Angela Clark's eyes as she closed the last few feet between them. Her gray-blond hair, short and smoothly styled, glinted in the sunlight. Her yellow cotton dress glided cleanly across her figure, a few pounds past slim but well preserved for a mother of three adult children.
Her hair, the dress, her smile all made Lori think of sunshine. Angela Clark radiated energy.
The older woman clasped Lori's hands in hers, staring for five assessing seconds before she said, "It's good to see you again."
Air escaped Lori's lungs in a relieved sigh. Thank goodness Angela didn't plan to chew her out for dumping her precious baby boy. "You, too, Angela."
"Grayson, quit scowling and take us inside where it's cool."
Scowling? Gray? He always smiled.
Lori turned and, sure enough, Gray's face sported a tight-lipped frown. He couldn't be mad at his mother, so the feelings must be directed at her. She followed his glare straight to the disappearing cab.
Gray couldn't care that she planned to leave, could he? The thought was crazy—and frighteningly exciting.
With no hope of alternative escape, Lori followed Mrs. Clark to the apartment. She had no choice but to make nice with Gray's mom and her son—a son who looked too good in that flight suit for Lori's currently shaky peace of mind. Gray stepped ahead to unlock the door.
Inside the apartment Angela accepted a glass of milk from Gray and drank down a third before slowing to smaller sips. She reigned from a recliner, leaving Lori and Gray to sit on the sofa together or stand around awkwardly. They sat, awkward all the same.
"So?" Angela sipped her milk, eyes skipping back and forth between Gray and Lori. "Is there something you two want to share with me?"
"Mom, shut down the matchmaking. Lori worked with us on that rescue operation we flew yesterday. The hours were long. She crashed here, in the guest room, rather than go all the way back into town. I'm about to take her home."
"Well, that's just a shame. I was hoping the two of you worked things out."
Silence echoed all the way to the vaulted ceiling. Hands shaking, Lori placed the little bundle of clothes on the couch. How ironic to have the perfect, accepting mother-in-law, but no husband. Lori wanted off the sofa, out of the living room, out of the whole uncomfortable situation.
"Angela, thank you. I'm complimented. But what Gray said is true. There's nothing going on. We're just … old friends."
Friends. Gray winced. He wanted to grab Lori by the shoulders and demand she at least be honest. They'd been a hell of a lot more than friends. Of course even friends treated each other better than he and Lori had. He turned to her. "Would you mind if I talked to my mother alone for a minute?"
"Of course not I, uh, could use a drink myself," Lori said, looking grateful for the excuse to escape as she backed into the kitchen.
Perched on the edge of her chair, Angela swallowed the rest of her milk. Her hand clenched around the glass, chewed-down nails turning white.
Familiar frustration welled in Gray. His mom knocked herself out worrying about her family, all the while pretending everything was normal. He couldn't do a damn thing about it except try to keep the peace and hope like hell her stomach didn't resemble Swiss cheese.
He needed to divert her before she invested more of her overtaxed energy into fairy-tale dreams of paper bridal bells. "Mom, put away the wedding planner. There's really nothing going on here."
Angela set aside her glass and swiped a pinky around her mouth. "Too bad Lori didn't get pregnant last summer, then you would have had to grow up and ask her to marry you."
"Mom!" Gray choked on a gulp of air and shock. He could have used some of that milk for his burning stomach.
She patted his face, the seven charms on her grandma bracelet tinkling. "It's okay, son. I know you have sex."
Horrified, Gray stood. Mothers did not discuss sex, not with him, anyway. "Okay, this conversation is over. Mom, I love you, and I owe you a trip to Waffle House. But we really have to leave for the hospital."
"The hospital? I thought you were taking Lori home."
Uh-oh. He shuffled like a busted teenager. "We're, uh, going to check in on a patient from the airlift."
"Patient? I thought you were evacuating—" her face was wreathed in a smile she'd passed along to her son "—children."
She cradled her bracelet to her heart as if already selecting a spot for the next little golden grandbaby charm.