Page 39 of Knockout (Whiskey Dolls 2)

My curiosity got the best of me, so I announced my presence when what I’d intended to do was eavesdrop a little while longer on the off chance they were talking about somethingreallyinteresting.

“Right about what?”

Layla’s head whipped around, all that long, dark hair swishing in the air and shining as it caught the sunlight pouring in through the big bay window nearby. The urge to reach out and wrap those strands around my fist was so strong I had to clench my fingers to keep from doing just that. She wasn’t mine to touch. I’d seen to that my damn self. A thought crept into my head just then that coated my vision in red. But if that douche-nugget Baxter so much as laid a finger on her...

And that goddamn cloud came rushing through the house and stopped right over my head once again, ruining the lighter mood I’d begun to experience when I first spotted Layla’s car.

“Am I interrupting, ladies?”

“Of course not, Joodle Bug. You’re always welcome, you know that.”

“So what are you guys talking about? What’s Gram right about?”

“Oh, uh...” Layla’s cheeks flushed pink as she cleared her throat and looked away, unable to maintain eye contact. “N-nothing. “It’s not important.”

I had the distinct impression she was hiding something, and as hard as I wanted to push, I held myself in check. Turning to my grandmother, I gave her an arched look. “Did you forget what day it is?”

She returned my look with one of her own, a look that screamedI’ll smack you right upside the head and enjoy doing it. “Of course I didn’t forget, smartass.” Her expression shifted to an adoring smile as she looked to Layla. “But there was plenty of time to have tea with my favorite person before leaving to get my hair done.”

My eyes bugged out. “Your favorite person, huh? So what does that make me?”

Her smile fell in the blink of an eye. “A pain in my droopy backside.”

Layla snorted into the tiny china teacup she’d been holding to her lips, nearly sending tea spraying from her nose. I turned to her and arched a brow, trying for a playful tone. “I see you’ve replaced me.”

Her expression grew harder than it had been two seconds ago, and I knew without having to ask that she was still mad at me. “What can I say, your gram has excellent taste.”

“Oh, Layla! You should join us today. After my hair appointment, maybe we could go grab something to eat. That could be fun, right Jude? We’ll make a whole day of it. Maybe even go shopping.”

I would rather get a vasectomy without anesthesia at the same time someone was ripping my fingernails out with plyers than go on a shopping excursion as well as a trip to the salon. But at the thought of spending the day with Layla—even with my grandmother playing third wheel—I said, “Took the top off the Jeep to take advantage of the nice day. Hope that’s not a problem.”

“Oh. Thank you, but I actually have something to do after this.”

My chest tightened, an unpleasant feeling crawling under my skin and coursing through my blood. “Going to spend the day pampering for your date?” The question came out in a harder tone than I’d intended. But the desire to track George Baxter down and tear him apart limb by limb made me a bit grouchy.

Gram’s eyes bugged out as her gaze darted between Layla and me. “Date? You have a date tonight?”

Layla rose to her feet, hooking the strap of an expensive purse over her shoulder. “Yeah, I do.” She cut her eyes to me, that same anger I’d seen swimming in their gorgeous gray depths that day in the laundry room returning with a vengeance. “You should ask your grandson how that happened. And to answer your question, no. I’m not going topampermyself. I’m going to see my kids at Hope House this afternoon. And I should be going if I want to get there in time.”

Shit. For some reason, I couldn’t stop fucking up where this woman was concerned. My emotions were a whirlwind, and no matter how hard I tried to control them, they kept fueling my reactions when it came to her. And that reaction was always wrong.

“Layla,” I started, the apology on the tip of my tongue, but she didn’t give me the chance. Not that I blamed her. Seemed like I’d been apologizing a lot lately, and the more I did, the less meaning those words held.

“I’ll see you later.” She leaned over and placed a kiss on Gram’s cheek. “I’ll call you. We should do this again soon. I think you’ve turned me into a tea drinker.”

“Of course, darling. We’ll plan something. Enjoy your date.”

She stood tall and started in my direction, the smile slipping from her face. All I got as she passed was my name muttered in an unhappy voice.

The door was barely closed behind her before Gram was on her feet and shuffling toward me. A second later, I got that smack in the head her expression had promised. “What the hell did you do?”

“I fucked up,” I admitted sullenly.

“Well no shit, dumbass! What I want to know is how.”

“I might have...” Christ, I was a massive fucking idiot. “I kind of pushed her into the date with that shit-heel tonight.” She smacked me again. “Ow! Jesus, will you stop doing that?”

“Not until I knock some sense into your dumb ass. What the hell were you thinking?”

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