Gerard's Beauty (Kingdom, #2)

It’d been over a week since Gretchen’s last phone call-- long enough Betty had almost forgotten about her completely.

“Didn’t sound like nobody to me,” he said, his thumb grazing her chin and tipping it up. Betty huffed, giving him a weak smile.

“It’s nothing.”

His eyes were so blue this morning, deep and bottomless. Dangerous eyes, because if a girl wasn’t careful, she could fall and lose herself in their hot depths. Something Betty could never afford to do. Though when he looked at her like that, all kind and searching, it made heat race through her limbs-- turning them to jelly, and making it hard to remember why she shouldn’t jump in headlong.

He grinned, and rubbed his thumb across her cheekbone. “You’ve a smear on your eye. Grease, I think.”

She chuckled and pushed his hand away. “Makeup. Let me go finish up. Did you pack the sandwiches?”

He pointed to the cooler. Amazed yet again by how efficient he was in her home, how well he knew her place already. How normal and comfortable it all felt, them sharing a home, cuddling each night in bed. Her stomach fluttered.

Betty turned, and he grabbed her shoulder, his large hand gripping gently. “You sure you’re okay?”

She patted his hand. “I’m fine, Gerard.”

As Betty padded back to the bathroom the phone rang again. Her spine stiffened. This was insane, when would Gretchen understand she wanted nothing to do with James? As if! Especially now with Gerard in the picture, it was like comparing boring apples to exotic passion fruit. Betty marched back, intending to hurl some of her own insults at the woman, when Gerard picked up the phone and growled, “What?”

The mask of anger he wore was quickly replaced by a lifting of his brows and a pulling of his lips. He held the phone out to her. “Somebody asking for you.”

“If it’s Trisha, I’m not here,” she whispered and waved her hands in front of her face.

“It’s a boy. I think.”

Only one boy would call her at home. Smiling now, she grabbed the phone. “Hello, monkey butt! What’s crackalackin’?”

Gerard gave her a strange look, and she giggled, clutching the receiver with both hands.

Briley chuckled. “Hi, Aunt Betty. You’re weird,” he said in that high pitched voice of his that never failed to elicit a smile from her. “I want to see you today.”

“Aww, monkey. That’s sweet. Where’s your dad?”

“Dad!” he cried. “Aunt Betty.”

Betty licked her lips. Gerard leaned against the counter, his arms crossed over his chest, and wearing an amused grin. “What is crackalackin’?” his deep burr resonated with a hint of laughter.

She opened her mouth to answer, when her brother got on the line. She held up a finger.

“Betty?” Kelly asked.

“Hey, K, you pulling a shift tonight?”

“Yeah.”

Betty heard the exhaustion in his voice and could almost picture him running his hand over his head. Poor thing. He was working too hard, and now that it was summer vacation Briley would be out of school. Pulling long shifts was tough enough, but pulling long shifts and having to pay for special child care was even tougher.

“Let me take the kiddo today,” she offered.

“Oh man, would you. That would be great.” His relief rushed over the line in a loud whoosh. “I’ve got to head out in about twenty minutes.”

“Yep,” she nodded, “I’ll be there. See you.”

They blew air kisses and hung up.

“Are we not going fishing today?” Gerard asked.

Betty ran to her hall mirror and grabbed a tissue off the end table, dabbing at the black smear. “No we are. We’re just making a pit stop first.”

Once she was satisfied she no longer looked like a raccoon, she grabbed her keys and purse. “Well let’s go.”

Gerard picked up the cooler and followed her into the car. Betty climbed in, turned the ignition, and backed out of the parking lot.

“I guess I should warn you, I’m picking up Briley. He’s going fishing with us.”

She bit the corner of her lip. Hoping he wouldn’t mind. She’d not thought to ask him, mainly because she didn’t assume he’d care. But then again some guys weren’t kid people, and if he in anyway made Briley feel unwelcomed, she’d have a serious conniption. Betty drummed on the wheel.

He didn’t say anything for a moment.

“He’s a good kid. Quiet. A little angel. Really, you’ll like him.”

“What is crackalackin’?” he asked finally.

“What?” Betty laughed, thrown for a moment by his question. “Umm, well, nothing really. It’s slang. Means what’s cracking. What’s happening.” She turned right at the light, heading down the country road toward Kelly’s house.

The countryside was awash in sprays of gentle pinks and soft yellows, the gloom of night still held court at the very tip of the sky as the sun slowly crested the horizon.

“Then why don’t you simply say that?” he asked.

She laughed. “Who knows. It would be easier wouldn’t it?”

He nodded.

Betty gripped the wheel tighter. “So do you mind?”