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Dropping his fingers, Tucker took a shocked step back. Then he shook his head and laughed. “I guess this means your marriage is going well.”
Grady grinned as they shared a knowing look. With a nod, his son answered, “Can’t complain.”
Tucker chuckled again and grabbed Grady’s shoulder, feeling a blast a relief. “Shit,” he murmured and turned his son toward the meeting room. “Go give your presentation already.”
As Grady tucked his file under his arm and hurried to comply, his father stood there a moment, staring after him. An emotion of immense pressure slipped off his chest and loosened the knot that had been there for two and a half long years.
Running his hand over his face, he made sure there weren’t any tears in his eyes. But, God. He’d waited so long to see his boy happy again.
****
A Rawlings Oil company truck sat parked at the Gilmore hangar when B.J. landed her plane for lunch. She taxied to a stop near the entrance of the opened double doors and killed the engine. Rudy had agreed to go up with her today to take some aerial pictures but once again hadn’t shown on time. So she’d gritted her teeth and dragged Leroy along. But her older brother had actually been halfway decent for once in his life. They’d gotten six farms photographed, and he hadn’t made one rude comment about her marrying a Rawlings.
But all her morning’s work was instantly forgotten as she stared at the parked truck.
Grady.
“Horny bastard,” she muttered even as her heart sang at the thought of him coming to visit her at work. “Hey, Leroy,” she called over her shoulder as she unstrapped her safety harness. “Can you get the equipment? I’ve got company.”
“I guess,” came the reluctant grumble. “But you owe me.”
“Thanks.”
Grinning, she popped from the plane and nearly sprinted down the tarmac. But as soon as she entered the hangar, she slowed to a stop. The smile dropped off her face as she stared at the man who was chatting with Pop. It wasn’t Grady at all, but his father.
Tucker glanced over when he heard her enter. Instantly, he straightened from where he’d had his foot propped on a bench. Turning to face her fully, he gave a brief and solemn nod.
Not realizing she was holding her breath, B.J. returned the silent greeting. Her steps were much slower as she approached.
“B.J.,” he said.
She didn’t answer.
“Got a minute?” he asked.
She nodded, cleared her throat, and pointed to the closed door of the office. “We can talk in there,” she said, irritated with herself for letting her voice go hoarse.
Tucker stepped back to let her lead the way. He was just like Grady, she realized, letting the lady go first. Her heart clenched in misery.
Grady.
She opened the door and started to enter, but immediately realized someone—probably Pop—had just brewed a fresh pot of coffee. Slamming a palm over her mouth, she backed out of the doorway and spun toward Grady’s dad.
“We can talk out here,” she amended.
He grinned at the humor in the situation, but politely asked, “Want to go outside to get some fresh air?”
She didn’t answer immediately, still fighting back the nausea. Then she closed her eyes, blew out a breath and shook her head. “No. I’m good.” Straightening, she faced him head-on. “Look, I don’t know what you want now, but I’m not making any more deals. You can just keep the goddamn plane. Okay? I can’t—”
“B.J.,” he broke in. His smile faltered, and he shifted uncomfortably. “No. I, uh. . .to be honest, I’m here to apologize for all that.”
B.J. nearly passed out at his feet. Striving to hold in her shock, she managed a casual shrug. “Well. . .don’t worry about it. No harm done.”
“No,” he said. “There was harm done. I offended you and. . .” He paused and shook his head, looking ashamed. “I get a little overprotective and irrational when it comes to my children. I—”
“Mr. Rawlings, you have every right to worry about Grady. I don’t blame you at all for anything. In fact, I probably would’ve thought less of you if you hadn’t done anything. I—”
“B.J.,” he said, stopping her again with his soft voice, shocking her into silence as he took both her hands into both of his. “I was wrong,” he murmured, looking into her eyes with a penetrating blue stare so like his son’s that she could only gape back, holding her breath.
