Hungry Heart: Konigsburg, Texas, Book 8 (22 page)

“I’d say we are.” His voice rumbled against her ear as her body relaxed, her mind drifting off to sleep. “Definitely set.”

Chapter Fifteen

Harris had to admit that his trailer wasn’t as comfortable as Darcy’s place. It was a good thing both of them were in excellent shape because having sex on his fold-out couch required a lot of close maneuvering.

On the other hand, being at the trailer had the advantage that he didn’t have to haul his ass out of bed in the morning and leave her. If she could wait a few minutes, he’d be right back. In fact, he looked forward to being right back all the time he was wrestling the briskets onto the fire.

He could get used to morning wake-up with Darcy.

He felt a quick tightening in his gut. Not that he wanted to think about any kind of long-term relationship with Darcy at the moment. Or possibly ever.

He returned to the trailer to find her up and poking around his tiny kitchen. “Morning,” she said and grinned. Something about that grin made his insides relax. Maybe the whole waking with Darcy thing was a little scary, but he could deal with it.

They worked ass-to-ass, Harris frying bacon while she squeezed orange juice at the counter behind him. It made for an interesting breakfast experience. Yet another benefit of the waking-up-together thing.

He pulled down a plate from the cupboard next to the stove, half turning to give her hip a pat. “About done here.”

“Me too.”

She carried the glasses a couple of feet to the side, placing them on what passed for a kitchen table. It was around the size of a bathmat, but it was big enough. Usually.

She cocked an eyebrow. “Are you ever going to build a real house up here?”

He shrugged, sighing. “It’s on the agenda, but I haven’t had time to plan anything. Besides, getting construction equipment out here is a bitch.”

She nodded sympathetically. “Probably cost an arm and a leg.”

“Probably.” He felt a quick shiver of unease. He wasn’t lying to her—not really. It would be expensive, and he wasn’t in a position to spend any money on it. At the moment.

“Great bacon.” She held up a strip. “You smoke this yourself?”

He shook his head. “I don’t do cold smoke. I get it from a guy over by Dripping Springs. He raises Berkshire hogs.”

“You should tell Chico about him. Maybe he’d like to get some Berkshire pork butt.”

He shrugged. “Pork butt’s not exactly quality meat. Once you’ve cooked it for eight hours or so, it doesn’t much matter what kind of hog it comes from.”

“Still, he might…”

The rapping on the trailer door made him jump. Normally, he was aware of visitors long before they got that close since they had drive down the hill on the other side of the bridge. And then Porky usually got the yips as soon as she saw a new face. Ms. Cunningham was having one hell of an effect on his concentration.

He pulled the curtain aside to glance out the window.
Well, crap.
There went the morning.

He stepped across the trailer and opened the door in a single movement. “Hi, Gray. Want some breakfast?”

His brother’s head snapped up, suspicion written in every patrician line as he stepped inside. “No. I’ve already eaten.” He was wearing at least part of his office uniform—a dress shirt and dark gray slacks that looked like they were part of a suit—an expensive one, of course. At least he didn’t have a tie that Harris could see. The rest of the ensemble must be back in his car, wherever he’d managed to park.

Darcy watched them from the kitchen table, all of two feet away. Gray looked like he was trying to figure out the etiquette of the whole situation, given that Darcy was wearing a pair of cutoffs and a tank top that showed her considerable range of tattoos, as well as confirming the fact that she wasn’t wearing a bra.

Harris decided to take pity on him. “Darcy Cunningham, this is my brother Grayson Temple, Gray for short. Darcy’s on my barbecue team.”

Gray still looked like he was struggling. “You…cook, Miss Cunningham?”

Darcy’s eyes flashed. Harris was half-tempted to let her eviscerate his brother, but that might lead to distractions. “Darcy’s the sous chef at the Rose. She’s learning barbecue.”

“Oh.” Gray still looked a little puzzled, but at least he wasn’t likely to inadvertently insult her anymore. “The Rose is a great restaurant.”

“Thanks.” Darcy returned pointedly to her bacon.

“Can I talk to you? Outside?” Gray put it as a question, but it wasn’t really.

Harris sighed. “Okay.” He nodded toward Darcy. “Back soon.”

“Right,” she murmured, her eyes narrowing.

He led the way outside to the park bench he’d set up under a tall cypress near the river bank. Not that he expected Gray to sit. On the other hand, he had no intention of having this conversation standing up.

Porky reacted with his usual clumsy joy at seeing anybody new. Gray stepped back in alarm.

“C’mon, pup, don’t mess up the nice man’s clothes.” Harris pulled the dog back under the bench, then hooked his elbows over the back and let himself sprawl. “So?”

“So?” Gray’s voice raised enough so that it could probably be heard in the trailer, if not in downtown Konigsburg. “So? So what the hell are you doing living out here and cooking barbecue?”

Beneath the bench, Porky whimpered. Apparently, he wasn’t used to angry voices.

“I’m living out here and cooking barbecue.” Harris shrugged. “That seems fairly obvious.”

“You know what I mean, Harris. Goddamn it!” Gray stabbed his fingers through his immaculate hair. Of course, given the quality of his haircut, it was only minimally mussed. “Why are you out here? Does Mom know?”

Harris shrugged again. “Mom knows as much as she wants to know. I haven’t changed my phone number. She could call me if she was interested. So could you, for that matter.”

Gray sighed in frustration. “Goddamn it, Harris,” he repeated.

Harris managed to tamp down his own irritation. “I’m doing what I want to do, Gray. You knew I was going to do that when I quit. The money Grandma left me was enough to get me set up out here. I’ve been working my butt off ever since.”
And loving every minute of it.
But that was probably better left unsaid.

Gray sank down on the bench beside him, scowling. “I thought you moved to Memphis. That’s what Mom said.”

“I spent a little time in Memphis. Learned some about their ’cue to go along with what I already knew. Then I came back here. I worked in Lockhart for a while, and Taylor. Then I found this place.”

Gray stared at the trailer, than back at Harris. “You’re living in a trailer.”

That seemed too obvious to require an explanation. “Yep.”

“Why
are you living in a trailer?”

“Because it was here already. And because I’d rather spend money on my kitchen set-up than on a house right now.” Although now that he thought about it, he could maybe do both. Particularly if it meant a more comfortable living space for guests. Of course, doing that depended on his trust fund.

Gray snorted. “Like you need to be worried about money.”

Harris gripped the back of the bench to keep from growling. “I do need to be worried about money, Grayson. I’m living on what I make from my business.”
Unlike you.
But he didn’t see any point in saying that.

“There’s the trust.” Gray stared back at the trailer again, making his point, of course. The family trust would pay for a very nice house, even this far out in the country.

Harris sighed. “We both know that trust comes with conditions at the moment, mainly that I go back to work at the firm. And we both know I’m not going to do that. So if that was your point here, it’s pretty much moot.”

“Why not?” Gray shook his head. “Why can’t you work with us? You never really explained that to me.”

You never really wanted to hear me explain it to you.
Harris gritted his teeth. “I’m not much of a lawyer, Gray. Not a good one, anyway. When you’re working a job that makes you hate getting up in the morning, it’s doesn’t bode well for anybody involved. Neither me nor the clients.”

“Look, I know you lost the Morgan case…”

“It wasn’t a particular case.” He rubbed his eyes. “I won some, I lost some. In the end it didn’t much matter to me which it was. The clients deserve better than that.”

“They got good service from us,” Gray said stiffly. “We’ve never given a client anything less than the best we could offer.”

“You never did, I’ll give you that.” Harris smiled. “You’re one hell of a lawyer, Gray. I was just hell, period.”

Gray didn’t look mollified. If anything he looked more pissed than he had before. “And now you’re out here in the brush…cooking
barbecue?
Calling yourself the Barbecue King? Jesus Christ, Harris!”

Harris gritted his teeth again. In another few minutes he’d probably be punching his big brother in the teeth, which would be a bad idea on a whole lot of levels, not least the fact that Gray might still be able to flatten him. “Look, Grayson, I know it might actually be easier for you if I was out here cooking crystal meth—that way you could write me off as a bad seed and a loser. And that way I’d probably be making a better profit. But I’m doing what I want to do—what I love to do—and I’m not dragging the family into it. Can’t you just leave it at that?”

Gray gave him a look that was probably meant to sear him to the bone. Harris pushed his hat lower over his eyes and smiled. Way better than getting punched.

His brother sighed. “Do you need money?”

Oh for Christ’s sake.
Harris pushed himself upright, counting to ten. “No,” he bit off finally. “I don’t. Anything else?”

Grayson sighed again. “There’s no need to be offended. It was an honest offer, Harris. I have no idea what your situation is out here.”

“No, you don’t. Which makes it even more offensive. I’m doing okay. As a matter of fact, I’m doing fine. Assuming the trust fund eventually kicks in, I’ll build a house sometime. And what the hell are you doing out here, anyway, Grayson?”

Gray drew himself up stiffly. “I thought I was visiting my brother. I guess I was wrong.”

Harris gritted his teeth again. He was doing that a lot this morning. “Oh come off it. That’s not what I meant. I mean what the hell are you doing in the Hill Country? Why aren’t you at the office in Houston?”

Gray still looked like he had a stick up his ass, but Harris figured that was understandable. Also pretty normal for Gray. “We’ve opened a branch in Austin. I’m in charge. We have clients in Konigsburg. Your cousin Docia and her in-laws, among others.”

Harris nodded. “Right. I saw Docia the other day. Was she the one who told you where to find me?”

Gray shook his head. “The chef at the Rose told me where you lived. After I told him you were my brother.”

Great.
He’d really hoped that detail wouldn’t be spread around town. “Well, congratulations on the promotion. Many happy returns, et cetera.”

Gray grimaced, pushing himself up from the bench. “Can I at least tell Mom about this, about where you are and what you’re doing?”

Harris’s jaw tightened again, but he managed to keep his voice easy. “You can tell her whatever you want. Like I said, she could reach me if she wanted to. She doesn’t want to.”

Gray shook his head. “You’re wrong, Harris. You think she doesn’t care about you, but she does.”

Harris shrugged. “She cares. I guess. But we’ve got different ideas about what I should be doing with my life.”

Gray looked like he had more to say on that topic himself, but he sighed again instead. “Take care of yourself.”

“Oh, I always do.” Harris gave him his sunniest smile. “I’m in the best shape of my life right now. Hauling logs and fifteen-pound cuts of meat around will do that for you.”

Gray narrowed his eyes but said nothing. After a moment, he turned and headed back toward the bridge where he’d parked his car.

Harris watched him go, blowing out a long breath. Every muscle in his body felt tight. Family. Can’t live with them. Can’t…well, actually you could live without them. He’d been doing it for a couple of years now.

He heard the door of the trailer open and watched Darcy amble his way. She’d put on a bra, unfortunately. He liked the previous view her tank provided.

“Hey,” she said.

He nodded. “Hey. Did you hear any of that?”

“Most of it. Your brother doesn’t believe in keeping his voice down, does he?”

“Nope.” He leaned back against the bench again, rubbing his eyes. “Any questions?”

“A few.” She sat down beside him, stretching her long legs in front of her as Porky emerged to have his ears scratched. He found that he liked that view too. “So you were a lawyer?”

“For a while.” He shook his head. “I wasn’t very good at it.”

“But they kept you on anyway?”

“It’s my family firm. My grandfather and my great uncle founded it. My dad and my uncles kept it going. Now Gray and the cousins have taken over.”

“But not you?”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

“I gather that wasn’t a popular decision.”