Tied With a Bow and No Place to Go (Tizzy/Ridge Trilogy Book 3) by Ann Everett Page A

you two okay?”
    “Hmm-mmm,” Rayann said.
    “We’re cheer as beer. Fine as wine,” Synola sang.
    “Look at me,” he said.
    Rayann and Synola stared at him.
    He leaned closed to the pair. “Good God. They’re stoned out
of their minds. How many drinks have they had?”
    Synola held up four fingers. Rayann held up five. They both
said, “Three.”
    “Well, apparently they’ve lost control of their motor
skills, but they’re still able to do math. That’s a good sign, right?” Tizzy
asked.
    Ridge groaned, shook his head, and pulled out his phone and
sent a text. “Bubba will be here in a minute to take them home.”
    “What about myyyyy car?” Synola slurred.
    “We’ll get it later. You sure as hell can’t drive in your
condition. What’s in that damn drink? By the time I finished questioning Molly
Hix, she was stinking drunk, too.” He eyed the crumbs on the counter. “Wait a
minute. Is that the cake from the party?” He picked up a sizeable piece and
held it to his nose. “You remember the other day when Nana told us Om planted
an herb garden?”
    “Yes, so what?”
    “Jesus. Just when I thought my day couldn’t get any worse,
it does. I think that old hippie is growing pot and Nana’s baking with it.”
     
    ~~*~~
     
    Thirty minutes later, Tizzy, Ridge and Gracie sat at the
dining table. Underneath, Cuddles twined around Ridge’s bare feet. The fur
massage hit the spot after the day he’d had. “This is delicious,” he said,
cutting off another piece of steak smothered in cream gravy. “I’ve missed your
cooking and our family suppers.”
    Gracie stretched a big smile and announced. “I made a pie.”
    Tizzy grinned. “It’s a special mud pie.”
    “Well, I love your mud pies,” he said.
    “After we eat, I thought we’d take Gracie out to Momma and
Daddy’s to swim and spend the night,” Tizzy said. “And after everyone is in
bed, you and I can swim in the moonlight.”
    Ridge wiggled his brows. “I’m not sure, Margie Lou. That
could be dangerous.”
    “Why is it dangerous?” Gracie asked.
    Ridge winked at his wife. “Well—your momma likes to—dunk me
when we’re in the pool.”
    “Do you, Momma?”
    “Yes, I do.”
    Ridge scooted from the table and rubbed his belly. “Dang,
that was good. Chicken fried steak and gravy are my favorites. Now I’m ready
for that pie.”
    Gracie finished off her mashed potatoes and ran out to the
backyard.
    Tizzy cleared the dishes from the table and got a can of
whipped cream from the fridge. When Gracie brought the dessert, Tizzy covered
it with the topping, then stuck the remaining sausage in the middle.
    Gracie scampered away and returned with plastic plates from
her tea set and placed them next to her daddy. She went to the kitchen and
brought the special recipe to the table. Tizzy followed with a spoon.
    Ridge pointed at the meat stick. “What kind of pie is it?”
He directed the question to Gracie, but looked at his wife.
    “First, tell Daddy how much fun we had making it.” She
dipped a portion onto a plate and set it in front of him.
    “We mixed those—what are they called?” Gracie looked at her
mother.
    “Vienna sausage.” She fluttered her lashes.
    “Vinna sausage,” Gracie repeated. “We put them in the bowl
and squished them. It felt funny. I liked it.”
    He screwed his mouth around and frowned at Tizzy. “I bet
your momma liked it too.” He zeroed in on something hanging from his fork.
“What’s this?”
    “Oh, that’s a pickle,” Gracie said.
    He pretended to take a bite. “Man, these pickles make me
pucker and when I pucker, I need a kiss.” When he pulled Gracie into his arms and
planted one on her cheek, she collapsed into a giggling fit. He hugged her
tight, loving the sound of her laughter. “Mmmm, good. The kiss and the pie.”
    Gracie sat on his lap and he ate one last pretend bite, then
pushed the pink plate away. “Well, that’s all I can eat. It was delicious.”
    Gracie slipped her