Falling for the Cowboy Dad Page 12

  “But...” His mother shook her head. “How did I not know this?”

  “You were busy, and I didn’t want to let you down,” he said. “A guy doesn’t announce this kind of thing. At least I didn’t.”

  “Why wouldn’t you tell me?” she asked, her voice choked. “I could have...helped!”

  The same thing Grace had said. But these two women in his life seriously underestimated the blow to his ego that such an admission would be. Billy reached across the table and put a hand over hers. “I don’t know.”

  “I was on your side.” She turned her hand over and held his tightly. “I would have figured something out for you—”

  “You were busy, Mom.”

  “I would have made time.” She looked into his face pleadingly. “How did you not know that?”

  “When there wasn’t time for the mall?” he asked with a weak shrug. “Or for my school concerts? Or soccer games? Or for a regular bedtime? Or for breakfast together? I mean, when was there going to be time?”

  “I was on my own.” She pulled her hand back. “I was a single mother. I didn’t have anyone else to lean on, or vent to, or have an adult conversation with. You can love your child with your whole heart and still have a desperate need for other things!”

  “I guess I’ll find that out,” he said, leaning back in his chair.

  “No, you won’t,” she said with a shake of her head. “Not like I did. You’re not entirely alone. You have me.”

  She did have a point, but he’d have to be clear with her how things worked. She had a way of taking over, whether her way was better or not. His mom had gotten everything she had in life with that big personality of hers.

  “Yeah.” He nodded. “I do. But just for the record, I’m the dad. I make the rules. You’re the grandma—you tell Poppy to obey the rules. Okay?”

  “I might have some good insights into little girls,” she said.

  “I make the rules,” he repeated.

  “Fine.” She put her hands up. “You’re the big boss. Got it.”

  She was mildly offended, but he knew better than to let something this big go without some clear boundaries. They were both silent for a moment, and then his mother got up, brought the bag over to the table, and pulled out the shirt with the gold lettering.

  “Could you read that?” she asked softly.

  “No,” he admitted.

  “It says...” Her voice tightened with emotion. “It says, ‘Back off... I have a crazy grandma and I’m not afraid to use her.’”

  Billy started to laugh, and it was like all that tension in the room finally broke. And the more he laughed, the funnier that stupid T-shirt became. His mother watched him for a moment, then started to chuckle along with him.

  “It’s got a point,” Billy said, wiping his eyes. “You’re nuts, Mom. Let’s just use it for good!”

  Heather rolled her eyes. “I might be a crazy mom,” she said. “But I’m yours. And don’t you forget it, okay?”

  “I won’t.” He nodded. “Thanks—for all of this.” He lifted another couple of shirts out of the bag, then looked back to his mother. “I was wondering what kind of grandmother you’d be.”

  “Inked and crazy,” she replied with a grin. “Best way to be.”

  Yeah...and Poppy’s dad would be reliable and devoted. His daughter would be okay.

  CHAPTER NINE

  ON JANUARY SEVENTEENTH, Grace Beverly turned thirty.

  She woke up that morning, feeling older. Funny—she’d never felt a progression for any other birthday. Her father used to joke with her growing up, “So, how does fourteen feel? Older? Wiser?” Of course she never had. But this birthday was an event—even more so than her twenty-first birthday had. Her twenties were officially behind her. Thirty felt like a nice, solid age—very adult and responsible. Back when she was ten, her aunt Theresa had turned thirty, and she could still remember the party they’d thrown for her. Thirty seemed almost elderly back then, but now she realized how young it was. Thirty... It wasn’t quite the bastion of wisdom that she’d imagined as a kid, but it had a feel all of its own.

  “Happy birthday, Gracie,” her mother said, giving her a squeeze as she came into the kitchen.

  “Thanks, Mom,” Grace said with a grin. She was wearing a new suit ensemble in a winter-plum color. The jacket was nipped in at the waist, accentuating her curves, and the slacks fit perfectly. Today felt like a good day to dress up a little bit.

  “This is for you.” Connie passed her a card, and Grace opened it to find a sweet message about parents loving their daughter, with cash enclosed.

  “Aw, just what I wanted,” Grace said with a chuckle. “Thank you. You guys are the best.”

  “Buy something pretty,” she said. “Are you sure you don’t want to come with us to the fund-raiser tonight?”

  Grace’s father, Dr. Len Beverly, came into the kitchen, looking down at his phone. He stopped to kiss Connie on the cheek, then shot his daughter a distracted smile.

  “I hate these fund-raisers,” he said. “I’m MCing, though.”

  Even worse. Her dad wasn’t the most entertaining man in the world, but he had a few biology jokes that seemed to go over well in medical circles.

  “No, you guys go have fun,” Grace said with a shake of her head.

  “You sure?” Her mother winced. “It’s your birthday.”

  “Positive. I’m a grown woman who can shop for her own birthday gift to her heart’s content,” Grace said with a wry smile. “And I’m serious. A quiet night in to reflect on how long I’m getting in the tooth will be good for me.”

  Her mother laughed. “If you knew how young thirty was from where I’m standing!”

  “Happy birthday, Gracie,” her father said, and he gave her a squeeze, then turned back to his phone. “I need new jokes. There’s no way around it.”

  And he did, but Grace was going to let him figure that one out on his own. Besides, he was a well-loved physician. People forgave him his corny one-liners.

  Grace headed off to work—with her travel mug filled with coffee—determined to embrace her thirties. A new decade was a good thing, in her estimation. A fresh start. They said that each decade had a theme of its own, and her twenties had been dominated by a powerful but unrequited crush. That was all it had been, and if she had seen a friend hung up on some guy who wasn’t going to be interested in her, ever, she’d think that decade had been a waste. Romantically, at least. Well, she wasn’t making that mistake in her thirties. She wanted to live her life differently, more courageously. No more pining and wishing.

  In Eagle’s Rest Elementary School, every classroom had a Birthday Button. Every child got their turn when their birthday came, and Grace, as their fearless leader, did too. So she wore the Birthday Button with pride, had the “Happy Birthday” song sung for her over the loudspeaker by the office staff, and when the day was over, and the kids ran out to get their snowsuits on so they could go home, Grace couldn’t help but feel that it was a good birthday—not like others she’d enjoyed with friends or family, but still a good start to her decade.

  Billy arrived for his lesson just as he had the day before. Grace had some math for Poppy to work on this time—adding up rows of numbers, which Poppy seemed to be very good at.

  Billy leaned against her desk once more, watching as she got Poppy started on her project. She glanced back at him a couple of times and hated that her stomach still flipped a little when she looked at him. He was tall and muscular, holding himself with that ease of a man comfortable in his own skin. And why shouldn’t he be? Those dark eyes, the shadow of whiskers across his chin, the strong hands, the jeans that fit him just right...

  She pulled her attention back to Poppy. Admiring Billy wasn’t going to start this decade off right, either.

  “Today is Miss Beverly’s birthday,” Poppy sa
id.

  “I know,” Billy said.

  “How?” Poppy asked, looking around Grace to see her father properly.

  “I remembered.” His voice was low. She glanced over at him again, catching that dark gaze of his as it enveloped her. That felt too good...and not at all like old times. She used to dream of him looking at her like that...

  “I also have the Birthday Button,” Grace pointed out, tapping the pin on her suit jacket. Now wasn’t the time to wonder about that gaze of his.

  “So, any big plans tonight?” Billy asked after a beat of silence.

  “A quiet evening to myself,” she said. “My parents are out at a fund-raiser. It’ll be nice.”

  “Alone?” he said, frowning.

  “Delightfully alone,” she countered.

  “Nope, you’re coming out with me and Poppy,” Billy said.

  “I have plans,” she shot back with a low laugh. “Didn’t I point that out?”

  “Sitting home alone is a not a plan.”

  “Sure it is,” she replied. “Maybe I like some time to myself. I’m good company.”

  “You are good company,” he replied. “But that’s not a birthday plan. Me and Poppy know how to do a birthday.”

  “We do?” Poppy asked, looking up from her page of numbers.

  “Are you saying we don’t?” Billy replied in mock surprise. “I got us a sled, remember?”

  “We’re going sledding!” Poppy said with a bright smile.

  “And we won’t throw a fit, right?” he added.

  “No fits,” Poppy agreed. “I’ll be good.”

  Billy laughed softly and looked questioningly at Grace. “What do you say, Gracie? Let us take you out for your birthday. We’ll have you back home dreadfully early.”

  Grace smiled ruefully. Yeah, he seemed to be figuring out how this worked with a small child in the mix. Billy lounged against her desk with an almost rebellious air. She eyed him for a moment.

  “Using a kid to get your way isn’t fair,” she teased.

  “I’m not using my kid, I’m using a sled,” he countered. “Remember how we used to go sledding together?”

  She’d almost forgotten... The slick path for the sled to follow down the junior high school hill, the laughing, the tumbling out. He used to help her up, and he’d stop to brush the snow off her hat. It had been a sweet gesture, and something he had never done for other girls.

  “Fine—I’ll go out with you for my birthday. But I expect you to do as you say and get me home dreadfully early.”

  “I’m a man of my word.”

  “Only after we go through another lesson,” she added, holding up a manila envelope.

  “Right,” he said, and that cocky smile of his faltered. Billy’s gaze met hers, and all the posturing evaporated. This was just Billy—the bare, honest man she knew so heartbreakingly well.

  “You still want to learn this, don’t you?” she asked, hesitating.

  “Please.” And in that one word, she heard his whole heart.

  * * *

  BILLY SAT IN the same chair he’d occupied yesterday and waited while Grace rummaged about in a desk drawer. Her hair fell down in a chocolate cascade, and her purple suit looked much more serious than the other outfits he’d seen.

  When he’d been missing his friend, he’d imagined her in a pair of jeans and a sports jersey, her hair pulled up in a messy bun. He’d imagined her making those indulgent waffles at eleven at night, with her homework from her college classes piled up on the floor in front of her. He’d imagined her laughing at their shared jokes and imitating celebrities. What was it about being overtired that made her so goofy and loveable?

  But this Grace—the serious, impeccably dressed woman who presided over this classroom—was in a different league. And he was the same old Billy who couldn’t read, and who did his best work on horseback.

  “Here we go,” Grace said, coming back to the table with another manila envelope. “Now, I think we should review yesterday’s work first, because these are supposed to be sight words that you’ll eventually be able to read without having to think too hard about them, so a lot of repetition is key.”

  Grace pulled out the chair next to him and sank down. She wore some sort of perfume—or was that shampoo?—that smelled fruity and soft. He leaned toward her ever so slightly. She didn’t seem to notice, and she tucked her hair behind her ear, revealing a tiny, dangling silver earring in the shape of a crayon.

  Billy smiled, then reached over and touched her ear, slipping his finger behind the soft lobe so he could get a better view of the glittery bauble. Grace froze.

  “It’s cute,” Billy murmured. He didn’t move his hand.

  Grace, still facing forward, licked her lips and smoothed her hand over his, tugging his fingers away from her skin.

  “Where did you get them?” Billy asked quietly.

  Grace glanced toward him, and her earlier breezy confidence was gone. She shrugged weakly. “A friend found them on vacation and thought of me.”

  “Nice...”

  Her blue gaze met his for a moment, and pink bloomed in her cheeks. Her lips parted, and for a moment, an image rose in his mind of leaning closer and catching those lips with his.

  “Don’t do that,” she whispered.

  “Do what?” he asked, still unable to take his eyes off of her.

  “Touch me like that. It’s...” She dropped her gaze to the envelope again and started to open it.

  “It’s what?” he murmured. There was something about her—so vulnerable yet so removed from him—that entranced him. Grace from years ago had been all buddy. This Grace was all woman, and when he looked at her, he saw the details like those dangling earrings, the soft whiteness of her neck, the lustrous gloss of her dark brown waves...

  “It’s distracting,” she said, pulling out a card.

  He was definitely distracted—she had him there. He dropped his hand, and as she sorted out some new cards, that tantalizing scent still tugged at him.

  “I’m done!” Poppy said from across the room, and she danced toward them with a paper fluttering in her hands.

  Billy suppressed a sigh and leaned back. That couple of inches seemed to matter with his daughter’s approach. Grace’s blush deepened. He couldn’t help but smile to himself—he’d made some impression on her, at least. He found himself wanting to make her see the man in him...except that was going to be difficult now that he’d betrayed his biggest failing. What educated woman could respect a guy who couldn’t read?

  “Is it right?” Poppy asked, thrusting her page into Grace’s face.

  Grace laughed softly and took the page, looking it over. “Well done, Poppy! Wow! Okay, I have something else I want you to try...”

  Grace got his daughter resettled with another sheet and some explanation. Grace bent over to talk to Poppy, and Billy let his gaze move over her curvy figure.

  Grace had always been a bigger girl, and while he’d never minded it, she’d never been his romantic type, either. But now he was starting to see what he’d been missing out on all those years—what had been hidden away under layers of turtlenecks and sweatshirts. Grace was still a bigger girl, but he was noticing just how beautiful that was. He liked the softness of her arms and hands... He’d always found Grace touchable, and he’d enjoyed giving her bear hugs or nudging her when he joked. But touchable seemed to take on new meaning as he looked at her from across the room. All he could think of doing right now was sliding his hands around her waist and pulling her close.

  Billy dropped his gaze. What was he doing? An image of his mother primping to get ready for a date slid into his mind.

  He was here for Poppy—getting Poppy some extra challenge for her growing mind, and learning a few things of his own so he could read to his daughter. This was about Poppy’s needs, not his newfound attra
ction to his old friend!

  Just how much would Poppy have to resent him for later on? He could hear her telling friends, “There was this teacher who was giving me some extra help, and my dad started dating her...”

  Not exactly the kind of father he wanted to be. He wanted to be there for Poppy, not use his daughter as a way to get close to her teacher. That was...wrong.

  Grace rose from her crouch, touched Poppy on the top of her head and then headed back across the room to Billy. He felt ashamed.

  “You ready to get started?” Grace asked.

  “Yes. Let’s start.” He heard the chill in his own tone, and he didn’t intend it, but he didn’t want to let himself get sidetracked with his feelings for her, either.

  Grace seemed to notice his change in tone, because she froze for a moment, then smiled a slightly more professional smile than earlier. She slid back into the chair next to him and opened the envelope. “This one is review. So, let’s start with this word...”

  For the next hour, Grace went over word cards with Billy and got up to check on Poppy’s progress. They were both learning—Poppy on a much higher level than him, but still... He’d managed to remember most of yesterday’s words, but once those words went on paper in a random order, he couldn’t make them out again.

  “I don’t know...” he muttered in frustration as Grace wrote out a word on a lined piece of paper. “I can’t see it. Why was it easier yesterday?”

  “It’s just practice, Billy,” she said softly. “You’ll get there.”

  She put a hand on his arm, but he didn’t want to be comforted. He pulled his arm back, and she flinched.

  “I just...” he started. “We don’t have much time.”

  “Putting pressure on yourself isn’t going to help matters,” Grace replied.

  “Maybe not,” he agreed. “But it’s the truth.”

  “We’ve been at this for a while,” she said. “Let’s take a break. You won’t get past this wall when you’re tired and frustrated.”

  Billy sighed. He didn’t want to take a break—he wanted that feeling of success back! He wanted to read words on a page and have them make sense. He wanted to read more than he had yesterday and break past this blur of jumbled letters he’d lived with his entire life! Why couldn’t this be easier?