Storm Warning (Broken Heartland) Page 4

  “Hey, jackass, just because you bag ’em and tag ’em doesn’t mean I have to. I can’t help it if you haven’t found one worth getting to know.” Kyle shrugged and polished off his beer.

  “Oh and you have?” Coop asked, still suspicious. “Just last week you were trying to get Mackenzie Watson to go for a ride with you.”

  “Things change. I may have found one I want to do more than take a ride with.”

  Coop didn’t respond right away. Just opened another beer and stared at the water. “So tell me about your weekender? She worth the ninety-mile drive home? And here I thought you came all this way to spend time with me.” He faked a hurt look at his friend.

  “She might be,” Kyle admitted.

  Coop could see it all over his friend’s face that there was something different about this one. Because whatever was going on, Kyle was keeping it to himself.

  “Don’t worry, buddy.” He reached over, patting Coop on the back. “You’ll find a girl like that someday.”

  “Yeah, I’m not gonna hold my breath.” Coop snorted. His chest tightened at his own lie. He’d found one all right. He’d spent his entire life getting to know her. He just also knew he couldn’t have her.

  He’d always been honest with his best friend. Well, except for last summer when Ella Jane accidentally hit her brother’s truck when he was teaching her how to drive. He’d taken the blame then, said it was his dumb ass not paying attention. And here he was, lying again.

  “I’m just glad my sister isn’t dating,” Kyle confessed. “Not that I don’t want her to be happy or anything. There’s just a bunch of assholes out there, you know?”

  “Yeah,” Coop agreed. “Like us, right?” He forced out an uncomfortable laugh.

  “Hey, I know we screw around a lot and all that, but in all seriousness. I need to know something.” All traces of humor were gone from Kyle’s voice.

  Cooper sat completely still and waited. This was it. He braced himself for the blow to his face.

  “You’re going to look out for her, right? When I’m gone? I need to know that somebody is gonna be here to take care of her. And you’re the only person I actually trust.”

  Normally, Coop would’ve made a joke. Rolled his eyes or told his friend he should consider applying for a drama scholarship. But he knew that Ella Jane was right. Things were changing. And he could feel the heavy waves of tension and worry rolling off of his friend and slamming into him.

  And you’re the only person I actually trust. He knew what he had to do.

  “Yeah, man. You know it. Always.”

  Kyle’s expression smoothed, and Coop was glad to have taken that off of his friend’s shoulders. But now? Now it was on his. And he could feel every single bit of it.

  “NICE to meet you, Mrs. Mason,” Hayden Prescott said as he shook the middle-aged woman’s hand. He grinned his meet-the-mom smile at his new employer. It was all a show for his granddad. Surely his parents would come to their senses soon enough and he wouldn’t actually be spending his entire summer in this godforsaken hellhole.

  “Nice to meet you as well,” the woman responded, eyeing him as if she were making up her mind whether or not he was really nice to meet. “I’m not going to lie to you. We need a lot of help around here.” She paused to nod at the sprawling yard. “We’ve got a small crew handling clients, but it’s here that needs the most work.”

  Hayden glanced around at the overgrown land surrounding the two-story Victorian home that doubled as a family business.

  “Probably doesn’t say much for our work ethic that our own yard looks pretty terrible.” She smiled, but Hayden had seen his own mother faking enough polite smiles to know when someone was full of it.

  “Yes, ma’am. I’m happy to help out wherever you need me.” And he was. She was pretty fine, actually, for someone in her forties. He wouldn’t mind having a Mrs. Robinson for the week or two he actually had to be here until his parents gave up the charade.

  His grandfather clapped him on the back. “Right. Like I said, Millie, he’s able-bodied and needs a summer of hard work. Put his nose to the grindstone. I noticed the weeds around the barn are gettin’ pretty thick. Where’s that boy of yours?”

  Mrs. Mason forced another smile. “He got a scholarship to State, Edwin. He has football camp and workouts this summer. He’s home on the weekends though. Takes care of some of the properties out in Summit Bluffs.”

  “They grow up fast,” his grandfather said, jerking his head in his direction. “This one’s seventeen already. Seems like just yesterday he was knee-high to a grasshopper and actually enjoyed spending a summer with his poor ol’ granddad.”

  Hayden had to fight to keep from snorting out loud. His granddad definitely wasn’t poor. Far from it. He owned half of the land in Oklahoma. Why he chose to live in the middle of nowhere when he could buy and sell Summit Bluffs ten times over, Hayden would never understand.

  Mrs. Mason nodded. “Ella Jane’s sixteen. Can you believe that?”

  Hayden’s grandfather whistled low under his breath. “I can still remember busting her catching lizards down by the train tracks when she was missing two front teeth.”

  Dear Lord. What kind of name was Ella Jane? Hayden immediately pictured a toothless fatty in overalls and pigtail braids.

  Mrs. Mason laughed. “Yep. Soon Kyle will be away at school and EJ will graduate and probably head off as well. Then it will just be…”

  When she didn’t finish her sentence, Hayden returned his gaze to her. There were tears in the woman’s eyes. What the hell?

  “Millie…” his granddad began, but she wiped her eyes and then rubbed her hands roughly on her khaki shorts.

  “Ignore me.” She forced out a laugh that made Hayden wince. He had no idea what was going on, but something was up. For sure. “Listen, why don’t you show Hayden here around the property and I’ll see if I can round up EJ? You can check her pockets for lizards.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” his granddad said with a grin and a nod. “Come on, son.”

  As his obviously emotionally unstable boss made her way in the house, his grandfather gave him the grand tour. Dilapidated barn, moss-covered pond, storage shed for lawn care equipment, a dozen different types of trees and flowers growing around the house that had to be cared for. Blah, blah, blah. He half-listened as the man rambled on.

  Hayden checked his phone when the old man’s back was turned. He actually had two bars of cell reception on the Mason property. Thank the freaking Lord. Well, at least this job would be good for something. Maybe he could at least get Cami to Snapchat him some photos of her sunbathing topless in St. Wherever the Hell.

  After the tour wrapped up, they headed back to the truck. Just as they were about to leave, Mrs. Mason came jogging out of the house. “I almost forgot to give you this,” she said, handing Hayden a folded up square of paper. “Kyle went to get EJ but he’s not back yet. I was hoping you’d get to meet them. They could show you around town.”

  Pretty sure I’ve seen all there is to see, lady. He nodded and tried to look disappointed. “That’s too bad. Maybe next time.”

  “Kyle will head back up to school before you start work, but EJ will be here to help you learn the ropes on Monday,” she informed him.

  Great. The hillbilly princess would probably show him the ropes with her man hands. “Can’t wait, ma’am.” He nodded and tucked the square of paper, which he assumed was a list of job duties he had no intentions of doing, into his pocket. “Looking forward to it. Pleasure meeting you.”

  She smiled but gave him that same look, like she was still making up her mind about him. “See you bright and early Monday morning.”

  When he got into the truck, his granddad was chuckling to himself.

  “What’s so funny, Old Timer?”

  “You think you’re really something, don’t you, boy? I bet you think Millie Mason was eating out of the palm of your hand.”

  Actually he didn’t. He saw that look, that don’t
-bullshit-a-bullshitter look she was pinning him with. Like he was amusing to her somehow. He huffed out a breath but said nothing.

  “Can’t wait for you to see little Ella Jane again. I’d pay money to see her face on Monday.”

  Again? “What do you mean, again?”

  His granddad glanced at him as he backed the truck out of the dirt driveway. “You don’t remember? Naw, I don’t guess you would.”

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about, Pops.” Under his breath he added, “Probably time to up your dosage.”

  His granddad put on the brakes hard enough to make his body jolt forward. He barely stopped himself from cursing out loud.

  “You used to think I was something. Used to beg your daddy to let you go places with me.” The sad smile on the old man’s face sent a sharp pain through Hayden’s gut.

  He vaguely remembered the summers he’d spent with his granddad in hillbilly hell…except it hadn’t seemed so bad back then. But now, trying to remember anything specific about it was like grasping at the vapors of a dream after waking up too soon.

  His granddad continued. “You came over here with me to pick up mulch on Saturdays, and one time—you musta been around six or seven—you tripped over the shoelaces I’d just told you to tie. I’d no sooner got the words outta my mouth when you went ass over head. Skinned your knee pretty good. You squealed like a wounded heifer and Ella Jane ran out of the house like it had caught fire. She nursed you back to health with a washrag and a pink band-aid with a cat or something on it.” His granddad’s jowls shook as he chuckled at the memory. “You wouldn’t take that thing off for two weeks. I finally had to rip it off in your sleep.”

  Hayden watched the old man’s eyes glaze over as he spoke. “I think she might’ve kissed it and that’s why you wouldn’t take it off. Think you might’ve been a little sweet on her back then.”

  Jesus. He’d been joking about the meds earlier, but now he was really starting to wonder. “Okay, Pops. If you say so. Might’ve been your other grandson though.” He rolled his eyes, and the old man startled him by popping him in the back of the head.

  “You’re my only grandson.”

  “Hey, whaddya know? Maybe you’re still kinda sharp after all.”

  “I’ll show you sharp,” Pops muttered under his breath. But as they headed toward home, he grinned and shook his head. “Actually, I think I’ll let Ella Jane show you on Monday. That girl’s sharp as they come.”

  “LET’S go, son. Up and at ’em. Daylight’s a-wastin’.”

  Hayden groaned and rolled over. Blinking his eyes into focus, he turned toward the window. “What daylight?” he croaked out. For the love of everything holy, it was still dark outside. It was official. The old man had lost it.

  “It’s 5:30. Didn’t you check the schedule Millie gave you?”

  “Schedule?” He sat up and rubbed both fists through his eyes. Glancing down, he noted gratefully that he didn’t have morning wood. Even his dick was still asleep.

  He struggled to stand as his granddad produced the paper he’d folded up and forgotten.

  Monday through Thursday, it said in small, neat print. Six a.m. to six p.m. Saturday: Seven a.m. to noon. Oh, no. Hell no.

  “No way.” He backed up, putting as much distance between himself and that piece of paper as he could. “That’s not a summer job, Pops. That’s slavery.”

  “It’s eight dollars an hour and it’s honest work. Which you will do. With a smile on your face. So get moving. You’re not downstairs and ready to leave in five minutes, I’ll sic your grandmother on you.”

  If there was one person on earth harder on him than his granddad, it was Gran. The woman would be sweet as pie one minute, telling him what a handsome man he was becoming, and then yanking his ear half off because she’d caught him rolling his eyes the next.

  “I’m coming. Give me a minute.”

  “I’ll give you five. Not one minute more.” His granddad turned and disappeared down the steps.

  Hayden threw on the khaki shorts and gray Mason Landscaping T-shirt he’d been told to wear to work. As he tied his brand new Air Maxes, he tried to figure out what in the world he’d done to deserve a summer of slave labor.

  His granddad handed him a mug of steaming bitter coffee when he made it downstairs.

  “Gran didn’t make breakfast?” he asked, eyeing the empty kitchen table. It was the one thing he’d actually looked forward to about this summer. His gran made the most amazing pancakes. That he did remember.

  His granddad didn’t meet his gaze. He just opened the screen door and held it as Hayden followed him out. “Son, about your gran… She’s got…arthritis and such. We ain’t exactly spring chickens—as you might’ve noticed. I can’t remember the last time she made breakfast, to tell you the truth. We’ll be roughin’ it this summer. You’ll live. I’m still kickin’.”

  TWO hours into his first shift at Mason Landscaping & Lawn Maintenance, he was ready to quit. Past ready.

  He’d weeded, watered, and rotated. Cut, trimmed, edged, and a whole bunch of other shit that required getting his brand new shoes filthy. Mrs. Mason had tossed him some gloves after his granddad had dropped him off and they were already black and had several holes in them. His hands and back and legs ached. Lacrosse workouts were cake compared to this.

  He was ready to call his mommy and tell her he’d learned his lesson. He’d dip into his trust fund to pay to fix his Bentley. Happily. Whatever it took.

  But just as he was ready to toss aside the shovel he held and pull out his phone, the door to the house opened. And she walked out. Or marched out, rather.

  “Yes, Mama. I know,” she hollered back over her shoulder. “I will. I said I would and I will. It’s handled.” The slamming of the screen door would’ve caused him to jump if he weren’t struck dumb by the sight of her.

  Hayden felt his jaw drop just as the shovel he was holding did. It landed on his toe so hard he figured he was probably bleeding. But he couldn’t bring himself to care.

  She zeroed in on him standing there, gaping at her like an idiot. His heart pounded so hard he could hear the blood it pumped rushing into his ears, could feel the vibration of it against his ribs.

  The thin straps of her tight white tank top didn’t even cover the tan lines on her shoulders. His mouth went dry and he wondered briefly if he’d had a heat stroke, died, and gone to Heaven. Until the tan-legged, blond-haired angel in cut-off shorts in front of him spoke. “Well, you workin’ out here or what?” she drawled, glaring at him with her bright aquamarine eyes and a hand on her hip. “We ain’t payin’ you to be a lawn jockey.”

  Her voice was sweet and harsh and turned him on so hard it hurt. And just like that, a summer in hell turned into a summer in heaven.

  HER mother said they’d played together as kids. But Ella Jane knew she must’ve been mistaken. No way was this arrogant jerk the same boy who used to make mud pies with her when Kyle and Cooper left her out.

  “Hayden Prescott, EJ,” her mother had prompted. “You remember. Edwin and Netta’s grandson.”

  Right. She kind of remembered a dark-haired boy with greenish eyes who came around with his grandfather and chased her around the backyard.

  But standing across from her was a male model wannabe who clearly didn’t know an irrigation system from his ass.

  “So you gonna actually do some work today or should I just tell Mama you’re headin’ on back to Pretty Boy Town?”

  She watched barely contained restraint tighten his facial features. “I’ve been here since six a.m., thank you. Nice of you to roll out of bed and help out.” He bent down and picked up the shovel at his feet. “Now if you don’t mind, how about you run along and grab me something to drink. I’m dehydrating out here.”

  Heat rose up inside of her until she could practically feel steam coming out of her ears. “You’ve been half-assing it out here since six a.m. I’ve been watching you from inside while I answered the thirty-two phone calls f
or work orders, thank you.”

  “You’ve been watching me, huh?” Hayden smirked at her reddening face as he lifted the hem of his shirt and pulled it over his head. “Well, in that case, might as well give you something worth watching.” He slung his shirt aside and went back to digging the holes for the new flowerbed her mom wanted around the elm tree.

  Ella Jane felt her eyes widen without permission. So she concentrated on narrowing them at him. She took a deep breath and stormed back toward the house. Where she grabbed the water hose. And sprayed Hayden Prescott right in the face.

  “Holy shit…what the hell?” he sputtered, dropping the shovel for the second time and backing up. “Jesus Christ, that’s cold! Are you insane?”

  She released her hold on the nozzle trigger and gave him the most innocent grin she could manage. “Can’t have you dehydratin’ out here, now can we?”

  She pulled the trigger once more, giving him a satisfying blast of water on his bare chest before dropping the hose.

  “Relax on those holes. You’re probably halfway to China,” she said as she sauntered past him toward the barn. “Surely you know the meaning of shallow wells.” She paused to smirk at him one last time. “And be careful using the good Lord’s name in vain. Don’t want him strikin’ you down. Not on our property, anyways.” She didn’t look over her shoulder to watch him use his shirt to dry off his face or his perfect body. But as much as she hated to admit it?

  She wanted to. She really, really wanted to.

  THE two weeks since Hayden Prescott had started working at Mason Landscaping and Lawn Maintenance had flown by. She tried hard not to think about why that was. Much as Ella Jane tried to pretend otherwise, she lost time thinking about him. Watching him weed eat—or try to weed eat anyways, since it was pretty obvious the boy hadn’t done a day of hard labor in his life—kept her busier than she would ever admit.

  Her mother had walked in on her peering out the window at his shirtless tan self more than once.