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She was still grinning like mad. “Country and I never dated,” she said, putting me out of my misery. “I’ve only met him once when Mom and I went to check out and buy a rocker she wanted for the back porch.”
“Y’all want a water?” Her mom popped up beside us, holding two water bottles and smiling wide.
It seemed I had her approval, at least.
“Thank you, Ms. Mouton,” I told her, taking the water and drinking a sip.
“Call me Karen, please. I saw you in last year’s performance ofChicagoat BPAL. Betty and I both did. You were so amazing.”
“Thank you. I enjoy doing the musicals, but I’ve been really enjoying doing the straight plays, too. They’re actually more challenging for me when I can’t rely on a song to get me through the scene,” I added.
“You sure can dance, too.” Her eyes lit up. “Betty and I couldn’t keep our eyes off you when you were on stage.”
“Mom,” Betty whined.
“Is that so?” I wrapped a hand around Betty’s waist and pulled her against me. “Couldn’t keep your eyes off me?”
“Shut up.” She pinched my waist. “My mom is just being nice.” Her face flushed pink.
“I am not,” Karen protested. “I say what I think, and you know it.”
“You seem to be quite the free spirit, like your daughter,” I admitted openly.
She smiled right back. “Or a free bird.”
“Mom, no, please,” begged Betty, confusing me.
“Oakland, California,” said the older version of Betty with a reminiscent gleam in her eyes. “July fourth, nineteen seventy-seven. The Lynyrd Skynyrd concert that rocked the world. That’s when and where my mother said I was conceived. Right during his performance of ‘Free Bird.’ That’s why I’m a free spirit, as you say.”
“Mom, Gran was probably lying to you just to have an interesting story to tell.”
She chuckled. “Gran has a lot of stories to tell. And they’re all true. There’s a wild streak in the women of our family,” Karen said to me with a wink. “Hope that’s what you were looking for.”
“Please stop, Mom.” Betty looked mortified. And it was the most adorable thing in the world. She never ever got embarrassed. This was fantastic to watch.
“It’s true,” she defended. “He should know what he’s getting himself into. You’re as crazy as your grandmother.”
“You’re mistaking me with Emma,” she said haughtily. “I’m a respectable educator in this community.”
“And actor,” I added.
“Exactly.” She tightened her arm around my waist.
“Can’t change the stripes on a zebra. Even if you put a saddle and reins on her.”
“Mom, that is literally the worst metaphor I’ve ever heard.” Betty looked up at me. “I’m not crazy like them anymore. Promise.”
Suddenly, I couldn’t help but remember how she let me go down on her right there in the theater at Golden Oldies. I had been so fucking turned on that I couldn’t keep myself on a leash. And she’d been right there with me, ready to go.
For the hundredth time, I wondered what she’d be like in bed. Because Betty’s mother was right. This girl had a wild streak. I had no intention of putting a saddle and bridle on her, but I sure as fuck wanted to ride her hard.
I coasted my hand under her silky fall of hair and wrapped my hand around her nape. “You’re perfect just the way you are,” I whispered against her temple.
She stiffened for a few seconds then shivered and smiled up at me when I straightened.
“See, look at her,” Karen said, completely unfazed by our PDA. “She can’t even keep her feet still. That’s how Betty got all her extra energy out as a little girl. Dancing. I made her start lessons when she was five. Used to make me crazy, twirling around the living room all the time.”
I’d noticed that she had kept bobbing to the Zydeco music in the background.
