“Yeah. I didn’t plan on staying the night or I’d’ve put it in the garage. I don’t like letting my baby stay outside all night.”
Last night Mrs. O’Malley had been knocked off guard, but she’d had time to regroup. Her stance would do a three-star general proud. Her tone left no doubt that she was back in control. “Where is my daughter?”
“In the shower. I was just making coffee. Could I offer you a cup?”
“No. I’m on my way to Mass and stopped to see if Shannon wanted to join me.”
“Want me to go ask her?” he asked, smiling as if he didn’t have a clue why she’d take offense at the question.
Mrs. O’Malley sputtered a moment, looking as if she’d swallowed a cow whole. “I don’t think so. Tell her I’ll call her later.”
“Sure thing.”
“And Bull?” Mrs. O’Malley said, moving a few steps closer.
“Yes, ma’am?”
“If you hurt her, you’ll answer to me.”
Some of the humor left the situation. Nate raked a hand through his hair. “You’re the second O’Malley to tell me that in less than a day’s time. What is it that makes you all think Shannon couldn’t take care of me herself if I hurt her?”
Her sister and mother might not think so, but Nate suspected Shannon was more than capable of standing up for herself. From what he could see, all the O’Malley women were formidable.
“Shannon’s too soft-hearted for her own good,” her mother said. “She believes in fairytales. I think that’s why she enjoyed planning her sister’s wedding so much. But I know that romance isn’t enough. That people need more than a good shot of lust to make a relationship work. I don’t think the two of you could possibly have that much in common. Odds are, this will end badly. I don’t want her hurt.”
“And yet, you’re willing to see her married off just to win a bet,” Nate said gently.
Mrs. O’Malley heaved a sigh and shook her head. “No. I want to see her married off because Shannon is the type of person who’s meant to be married. She needs someone to love, someone who will in turn will love her to distraction. This bet … well, it simply presented an excuse to introduce her around.”
“Someone to take care of her, you mean?”
“I say what I mean, young man,” Mrs. O’Malley’s voice was once again sharp and in command. “I raised both of my daughters to be able to take care of themselves, but I also think life is more meaningful if you share it with someone.”
She paused a moment and added, “Do you think you’re the man Shannon should be sharing her life with?”
“Maybe. Maybe not. But I know that none of the guys you’ve set her up with are him,” Nate said.
“So do I.”
Her admission surprised him. “And yet, you continued to set her up.”
“In hopes that the next man would be the right man. The one she’s been waiting for.”
“And you’re sure I’m not him?” he asked.
“As sure as I can be. Shannon needs an ordinary man. Someone who will come home every night after work. She needs the simple things, trading stories about their days, eating a quiet meal together. Something as simple as watching a movie together. Someone with common interests. I don’t think that’s you.”
“Maybe you’re right,” Nate said. “Maybe I’m not her Mr. Right, but I am her Mr. Right-now, so I’ll thank you to forget about setting her up with anyone else for a while.”
“Fine,” Mrs. O’Malley said with a short nod. “Tell her I’ll talk to her later.”
“Sure.”
She started toward the door, then abruptly turned around. “And Bull, remember what I said.”
“Don’t worry, I don’t intend to hurt her.”
Mrs. O’Malley turned and left, shutting the front door with a soft thud.
Nate went back to the kitchen and poured a cup of coffee for himself as he pondered his confrontation with Shannon’s mom.
Mrs. O’Malley was right. From the little Nate knew about her, Shannon was special. He’d know it that first night in Mick’s bar. And now, having spent time with her, he was even more convinced.
He thought—
“Hey, a man who makes me coffee in the morning, that’s my kind of man,” Shannon said, as she came into the kitchen, her hair still wet. She was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Her feet were bare. She didn’t have a spec of make-up on.
She looked as far removed from Roxy as a woman could.
And yet, this look was ever so much sexier.
He forced himself not to think about how much sexier as he handed her a mug of coffee.
“I believe you said something about breakfast,” he reminded her.
She grinned. “Sure did.”
“So what are you making me?” he asked.
“Nothing. We’re going to get on your motorcycle, and drive down the street to Perkins. There, I plan to order a huge stack of pancakes, and drown them in syrup. How about you?”
“So, I made the coffee, and you’re allowing me to take you to Perkins?”
“Hey, it’s my treat.”
“I wanted to try your cooking,” he said. “After growing up with my mother, well, let’s just say, I like to know how a woman cooks right up front.”
“In this case, you don’t.”
“That bad?” he asked.
“Uh, you know your mom’s roast the other night? That looked good in comparison.”
“Thanks for the warning then. Perkins it is.”
“I thought you might see it that way,” she said with a laugh.
“Do you mind if I get that shower before we go?”
“Help yourself.”
“Thanks.”
“And Nate?” she called as he started toward the bathroom.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you spent the night.”
“Me, too,” he said, then turned and hurried down the hall. He liked being here with Shannon, liked holding her last night.
He just plain liked her.
And he didn’t have a clue what to do about it.
Chapter Six
Shannon held the phone away from her ear and looked at it, as if it could provide some answers.
She put it back to her ear, and said, “The dress?”
“Yes. I need that dress back. When you get married, you’ll have to find your own dress. I’ve decided Mary Kathryn’s—”
“Kate,” Shannon corrected automatically.
“Kate’s dress doesn’t suit you.”
She’d won.
Her mother might be saying the dress doesn’t suit, but what she meant was that Bull didn’t suit.
Her mom was done trying to marry Shannon off to just any man.
Shannon was free and clear.
Why wasn’t she feeling elated?
“Honey, I want you to find the right man when the time’s right. You don’t have to rush anything.”
“What about the bet?”
“Don’t you worry about that. I love you and just want you to be happy.”
“Mom,” Shannon said. She sniffed.
A moment.
She’d just had a moment with her mother.
“Mom,” she said again.
Brigit O’Malley was not one for big demonstrations. “Get that dress ready. I’ll pick it up later.”
“About Bull,” Shannon said, ready to confess all, to tell her mother her nefarious plan.
“Not one more word. This was a good conversation and I’ll not have it ruined by fighting about your boyfriend. I’ll stop by later this week and pick up the dress,” she said, hanging up abruptly.
Shannon was victorious.
Her mom was off her back.
She could let the hair on her legs grow so long she would be able to braid it.
She could go on a weeklong chick-flick-fest.
There was a world of opportunities in front of her.
But what she really wanted to do was call Nate and share her victor
y.
Truth be told, she’d wanted to call him after he dropped her off that day. She thought about calling to thank him for breakfast. Maybe to see how the ride home had gone.
Had he stalled the motorcycle?
But she didn’t call. Didn’t want him to think she was reading more into their casual relationship than he was.
She didn’t call and hoped he would.
He didn’t.
He didn’t call Monday either.
Neither did she.
As much as she wanted to call him, she just couldn’t.
She must have picked up the phone a dozen times, but always slammed it back down.
She wasn’t sure why it was so hard to call him. She had the perfect excuse, to share the news about her mom. But she didn’t call, and neither did he.
Wednesday was a repeat performance. Look at the phone. Think about calling. Even go so far as to pick up the phone. Set it back down. Don’t call.
Thursday she didn’t pick up the phone at all. Oh she thought about it, but since he hadn’t called her, she wasn’t about to call him.
She realized just how juvenile she was behaving, but didn’t seem to be able to stop herself. Something about Nate made her feel as if she was back in high school, giggling with girlfriends over boys.
Friday she woke up with a light heart. She and Nate were having dinner at his mom’s again tonight. She’d see him after school.
She practically danced through the day. Even Robbie Pembrooke, a student who could try the patience of a saint, couldn’t faze her happiness.
Of course, she did inform him that graffiti didn’t qualify as an art project … at least not in her class. She made him stay after school to clean his project off the side of the school and write a letter of apology to Mrs. Appleton, who, to the best of Shannon’s knowledge, did not, nor ever had, had drinking problem.
Although if the rumor about the rest of the Pembrooke clan was true, by the time the four children made it through the school the entire staff just might be falling down drunks.
No, even Robbie Pembrooke couldn’t phase her good mood.
Shannon noticed that Robbie had stopped scrubbing and was simply standing in front of the wall.
“Robbie,” Shannon hollered.
He turned and said, “My arm’s killing me,” with that teenaged whine that would one day grow into a fine man-whine.
“Tough,” she said.
The boy turned back and started scrubbing again. And Shannon smiled.
“You look awfully happy,” her friend, Patricia said, as she took a seat next to Shannon on the bench. “So, what’s up?”
“Maybe it’s just a happy sort of day. It is Friday, after all.”
Patricia shook her head. “I know a Friday-smile when I see one, and this is something more.”
“Well, it just so happens I have a date.”
She didn’t admit that it wasn’t exactly a date.
“Oooh, do tell. Does it involve candlelight and a new outfit?”
“Yes, to the new outfit.” Shannon had gone shopping yesterday and was pretty sure her outfit was going to scandalize Nathan’s mom.
Yes, one look at those pants and Mrs. Calder was going to be so scandalized she’d beg Nate to stop dating Roxy.
The thought should have made her feel victorious, but instead, she felt a bit letdown.
“Yes, new clothes, but not candlelight. Just a quiet dinner. Not much to tell. Just me, on a date.”
“That’s it?” Patricia asked, sounding a bit skeptical.
“Yep.”
“Hmm,” Patricia said, studying her.
“Robbie, you missed a spot,” Shannon called, ignoring Patricia’s scrutiny. She smiled as Robbie grumbled, not because he grumbled, but because she was going to see Nate in just a few hours.
“So, how are the kids?” she asked. And even as she listened to Patricia talk about her kids, she couldn’t help but smile.
She’d see Nate tonight.
“Oh, Shannon, dear, I’m so sorry,” Mrs. Calder said as they entered the house that evening.
Shannon didn’t have to ask just what it was Mrs. Calder was sorry for. There was a distinct smell of burnt—well, she wasn’t sure just what was burnt, but whatever it had been, it was charcoal now.
“I made the most lovely veal for dinner—”
Ah, veal, that’s what it was.
“—but there must be something wrong with my oven.”
“Or with your cooking,” Nate muttered low enough so that only Shannon caught it.
She stifled the laughter that bubbled just below the surface. She’d felt giddy since Nate showed up on her doorstep. He was wearing jeans and a polo shirt … looking positively good wonderful.
“That’s okay, Mrs. Calder,” she assured his mom. “Really.”
“No, dear, I promised you dinner and you’re getting dinner. Why, I don’t imagine you get to eat right at the club you work at. I think they’re more interested in drinking than good food. So, let’s go.”
“Go?” Shannon echoed, realizing that this burnt meal could be a problem.
A big problem.
“We’re going out to eat.” Mrs. Calder started to gather her purse.
“But …” Shannon looked down at tonight’s exotic-dancer outfit.
Tight pseudo-leather—pleather—pants, a bright red blouse and stiletto black heels. Add to that, she’d slicked her hair back with goop and piled on the make-up. She didn’t want to go out in public looking like this.
“But …” she stammered.
Nate hadn’t said a word. She elbowed him hard and looked from him to her outfit, then back at him. She saw the dawning of understanding on his face.
“Mom, really, that’s okay,” he said in a rush. “We’ll come back to dinner tomorrow, and you can try again.”
“Ah, son, I know you love my cooking.”
Nate shot Shannon a look and she knew exactly what he was thinking … his mom was the worst cook alive.
“But, really darling,” Mrs. Calder continued. “I enjoy a night off now and then as well. So, let’s go.”
“Pizza,” Nate said. “Let’s just order in pizza.”
“Now, will you two stop fighting? We’re eating out. Paul,” she hollered.
Shannon didn’t have to be her child to realize that was that. Mrs. Calder wasn’t going to be dissuaded.
Mr. Calder ambled into the foyer. “Shannon. How nice to see you again. I assume you heard about our change of plans.”
Nate nodded. “Where do you want us to meet you?”
“I was hoping we could all ride together,” his mom said.
“You don’t like my motorcycle,” Nate accused.
“It’s not that …” his mom started, then shrugged. “Okay, it is that. I don’t like it. And if you were to crash on the way out to dinner, I’d never get over the guilt. You’d be maimed because I can’t cook. You don’t want to put your mother through something like that, do you? After all, you’re the only child I could have and the suffering I went through to get you … why, you couldn’t willingly subject me to any more, could you?”
“Mom, that’s ridiculous. I’m a grown man and—”
“We’d love to ride with you, Mrs. Calder,” Shannon interrupted.
“Thank you, dear, for understanding.”
“No problem.”
His parents walked out the door and toward the Calder’s blue sedan.
Nate hung back and held Shannon back as well. “Why did you do that?” he whispered.
“Because she worries about you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”
“Not when it’s my mom doing the worrying,” he said, obviously put out. “But when it’s your mom, then it’s another story.”
“My mom doesn’t worry. She bosses. There’s a difference,” Shannon said.
“She bosses you around because she’s worried about you,” Nate countered.
“Since when did you become and expert on my m
other?”
“Let’s just say that maybe I have a bit more objective insights than you do.”
“Let’s not and have you explain.”
“Just leave it alone, Shannon.”
“Are you two coming,” Nate’s mom called from the car. She paused and said, “Is something wrong?”
“No, of course not,” Shannon said as she shook her arm free of Nate and walked toward the car.
“Good,” she said with a smile. “Then we’re off.”
Nate poked at his dinner salad as he listened to Shannon and his mother chatter away happily.
Shannon was making a mess of things again. His mother seemed to enjoy her as much tonight as she had last week. At the rate Shannon was going, he was going to be married off and the father of four.
Somehow the thought didn’t send the familiar jolt of terror down his spine. Not that he was thinking of marrying Shannon. If he had to get married, she’d be number one on his list.
And thinking he’d even have a list of women he’d marry totally freaked him out and he kicked her leg under the table and shot her a get-on-with-it-already look.
He knew she caught the gist of his meaning because she winked at him and said, “I’ve been thinking about changing jobs.”
“Really, dear, that would be wonderful. Not that what you do for a living affects our opinion of you. After all, you’re such a sweet and caring young lady.”
“Why, thank you, Mrs. Calder.” Shannon smiled sweetly at the praise.
Of course, the loud red color she’d painted on her lips should have made smiling sweetly very difficult, but Shannon pulled it off.
“So what are you thinking about doing?” his mom asked.
“I’m going to—”
“Shannon, it is you,” someone interrupted her.
Nate looked up and saw a petite brunette and a tall skinny man standing next to their table.
“Patricia?” Shannon said weakly. She glanced down and blushed.
Nate realized that she obviously knew the couple, and it was just as obvious that she was embarrassed to be caught in her Roxy get-up.
“What are you two doing here? And where are the kids?” Shannon asked.
“Kyle was sweet enough to invite me to dinner and I left the kids with a sitter. Are you going to introduce us?” Patricia asked.
Shannon smiled, and Nate suspected he was the only one who noticed how forced it was.
How to Hunt a Husband Page 7