Solid Gold Seduction (The Drakes of California) by Zuri Day Page A

Ping-Pong ball.
    The front yard came into view. She looked for bodies. No one was sprawled on the grass. To the right was Griff’s pickup and beside it Warren’s SUV. Her brow creased. Where are they? The house? Overturned furniture and broken glass immediately came to mind. She threw the truck into Park, stomped on the emergency brake and jumped out almost before the wheels stopped rolling.
    Rushing up the steps, she heard something that stopped her in her tracks: laughter.
    What? She turned and looked again. Maybe she’d just imagined that Warren’s SUV was still parked on the property. Nope. It was definitely there. She couldn’t recall hearing Warren laugh but that low, raspy chuckle coming through the screen door was definitely Griff. She took a breath, squared her shoulders and marched inside.
    “Charli!” Griff’s voice was animated and his eyes were bright. “Where you been, girl?”
    Her eyes narrowed. There was only one thing that made Griff talk loud and act so jubilant: moonshine.
    She looked at Warren. “Drake, what’s going on here?”
    Warren offered a lopsided smile. “Griff was sharing your Annie Oakley stories. How you killed a snake in the henhouse with one shot, then brought it out hanging over the gun.”
    “Remember that, Charli?” Griff asked, his voice filled with affection. “I think you were around ten years old.”
    Suddenly shy, Charli shifted from one foot to the other. “I don’t think you’ll ever let me forget.”
    “The gun was almost as tall as she was,” Griff said to Warren, leaning toward him and talking in a conspiratorial tone as if they were best buds. “Charles was as proud as a peacock. Called her a chip off the old block.”
    She smiled in spite of her trepidation at what other stories Griff had shared. There were one or two things in her childhood past that she wished to stay there. “That’s a monster of a house you’re building,” she said to change the subject. “How many bedrooms is it?”
    “Four bed, four and a half bath,” Warren responded.
    “Only four bedrooms? It looks bigger.”
    “Jackson, that’s my contractor, has added a few bonus rooms—theater, solarium, butler’s pantry—places I’ll probably rarely visit. But he said it would be good for the resale value.” He saw a look pass between Griff and Charli and realized that maybe he’d said too much. It was obvious from the looks of their home that for them money might be an issue. He was the last one who’d want to make them self-conscious about their lack of wealth.
    Fortunately he was saved by the bell, otherwise known as the ringer on his cell phone. He reached for it and looked down. “Excuse me,” he said before taking the call. “Hello?” He paused, watching as Charli walked to the hutch and poured a glass of water. Mindful that Griff was also watching, he made sure to keep his eyes above her waist. “No, I’m close. Right down the street.” He stood. “No problem, I’m on my way. Be there in five minutes.”
    “That was my brother. He’s down at the property. I need to meet him there.” Walking over with hand outstretched he said, “Mr. Griff, thanks for the hospitality, and the drink.”
    “I’ll walk you out.”
    “Charli, I’ll see you later.”
    She made no move toward him, but her eyes were soft as she answered, “See you later, Drake.”
    The two men were silent as they walked toward Warren’s car. When they reached it, Griff held out his hand. “Thanks for the cattle.”
    Warren shook it. “You’re welcome.”
    “It’s a big help.”
    Warren nodded. “I’m glad we had this time to talk, Mr. Griff.”
    “Just Griff is fine.”
    “Yes, sir.” He opened his car door.
    “Drake?”
    “Yes, sir?”
    “To answer your question, Griff is my first name.”
    Warren smiled. “Yes, sir. Bye, Griff.”
    He started his car, continuing to smile as he drove down their drive. He couldn’t help but marvel at how different he felt going than he had