He was about to suck it up and text her when the front door sprang open. Mad. He nearly swayed with relief to see her all in one piece. He didn’t have to go nuts rescuing her from a too-high tree limb or from instigating a fight she couldn’t win or whatever the hell else predicament she got herself in.
She was exactly as he remembered, her petite body swimming in a T-shirt, cargo shorts, and black work boots. Except her hair was dyed red and mussed in a casual way. Last time it had been purple and short.
He set his beer down, about to cross to her for a hug, when she put her hands on her hips and took them all in. “Ta-dah! My grand entrance!” She frowned and muttered, “I need my jeans,” before stomping over to the stairs.
“Mad, are you drunk?” Josh asked.
“Park’s here,” Ty said.
Park crossed to the stairs, where she was already halfway up. “Hey, little bit.”
She whirled, her brown eyes flashing. “The virginity train left the station!”
He didn’t blink at the odd statement. She was clearly drunk and not making any sense. He’d get some coffee in her. “Tell me you didn’t drive yourself home.”
She lifted her chin. “I got a ride.”
“C’mere.”
“I need my jeans,” she insisted. He couldn’t read her. Her eyes said she was happy to see him, the rest of her seemed pissed off, or maybe she was just that drunk.
“I need a welcome-back hug.” He needed it more from her than any of his brothers. He needed to feel her whole, healthy, alive.
She rolled her eyes, muttered something that sounded like little twit, which also made no sense, and then made her way unsteadily down the stairs. She stood in front of him with a belligerent expression.
He wrapped her in a bear hug, kissed the top of her head and ruffled her hair. She scowled and quickly smoothed her hair, which still stuck out on one side. “Good to see ya, mini. Get your jeans and then we’re going to sober you up before you say something really stupid.”
“Mini?” she barked.
He smiled, remembering how she got huffy about the strangest things. You’d think she would’ve taken offense to him pointing out she was saying stupid-drunk things. “Sorry, I meant Mad.”
She whirled and headed upstairs. He let out a breath and joined his brothers. He was finally truly home.
Chapter Four
Mad trudged downstairs the next morning in her ratty old T-shirt and sweats, a little hungover, hoping she didn’t run into Park. He’d always been a morning person. And she was not. She had just enough headache to remind her what a dumbass she was, getting drunk before the party. She hardly ever got drunk. Some impression she must’ve made last night.
As she got closer to the kitchen, the scent of fresh-brewed coffee reached her. Her heart kicked up. Had to be Park. Her dad would still be sleeping, he was used to sleeping late after working the night shift as a security guard. He was retired, but still worked part-time for a little extra cash. All of her older brothers had places of their own now.
And then she saw him. Park leaning against the counter, steaming cup of coffee in hand. The slant of sunbeam through the kitchen window lit him in profile. Gorgeous as ever, even more so now that he was older. She’d clearly been fooling herself that the attraction would’ve died. She took a moment to appreciate the view of short dark hair, sharp cheekbones, square jaw with a couple days’ worth of stubble, sexy curve of his lips, and the easy grace of a man comfortable in his own skin.
She stepped into the kitchen.
“Morning,” he said. “Coffee?”
“Yes.”
He poured her a mug and gave it to her.
“Bless you,” she said. It was black, nothing added. Perfect. She sipped. “You doctored it just right.”
He grinned. “I didn’t do anything. Figured you’d need it straight up. I couldn’t get you to drink any last night.”
She’d spent the rest of the party eating and trading insults with the guys. What she hadn’t done was show Park that she was an attractive sexy woman. Not that it would’ve mattered. Park had barely glanced at her, too busy yukking it up with the guys. Just like old times.
Get lost, twerp.
Scram, shortstack.
Shut it, mini.
C’mere, little bit, you’re on my team. Her dream guy. Was it any wonder she’d worshipped him?
She stifled a groan. She probably looked as crappy as she felt, which sucked after all the fuss she’d made last night with Charlotte’s stupid lipstick and her ridiculous attempt to look sexy in jeans. At least she’d brushed her teeth.
Park gave her a sideways look. “How’s your head?”
She slowly moved to the round oak kitchen table and sat down. “Shitty.”
He reached into the cabinet, pulled out the Advil, and set it in front of her. After all this time he remembered her dad kept headache medicine in a kitchen cabinet. He got her a glass of water too. She tossed a couple back.
“You tie one on a lot?” he asked casually, grabbing the bread and putting four slices in the toaster.
“No,” she admitted. She knew he was touchy about that sort of thing because of his crappy parents. And then in case he thought it was because of him, she added, “Just out partying with my friends to celebrate the semester ending.” She still had a week of final exams to get through, which meant no more drinking.
“You’re still in school?” he asked. “I thought you got your associate’s degree last May.”
“I did. Now I’m at UConn with a marketing major.” The University of Connecticut (UConn) was a little more than an hour commute from Eastman.
He stared at her for a long moment.
“That’s why I haven’t been in touch as much,” she blurted. “Between work and school—”
“No problem.”
A few minutes later, he joined her at the table with buttered toast stacked on a plate. He took one for himself and gestured for her to do the same.
They had breakfast in silence. No one in her house ever talked much over breakfast. By the time she finished her coffee, her head was feeling a lot better. Enough for her to test the waters a bit with Park.
“Looks like we’ll be roomies again,” she said, watching him closely. “Pretty close quarters around here. Our rooms are right across the hall.” Her dad had moved back to the master bedroom at the far end of the hallway once her brothers moved out.
He stilled. “You live here? I thought you just crashed last night because you were in no shape to drive.”
“I moved back home to save money for college.”
“That’s awesome you’re going for your bachelor’s.” He gave her a stern look. “Though I’d hoped you’d do that right after high school. What happened?”
You happened.
She raised one shoulder up and down. She’d been devastated when he’d left, listless and anxious, worrying about Park as he moved in and out of war zones, sticking close to the planes that were often first to arrive on the scene. He was flying crew chief, a top mechanic trusted with the most sophisticated of machinery, and the pilots needed him close by to keep the planes in perfect running order. Her anxiety had turned to anger sparking out everywhere. She’d picked a lot of fights, got herself in trouble at school and generally been a teenaged hellion. She couldn’t put all the blame at Park’s door. She’d always been a bit reckless, more so through the rocky teen years as her brothers left home and she found herself alone too much with too much unfocused energy. Ty got her into his dojo her senior year on one of his visits home. She got strong and focused, but not for the easy path. No, she made things hard on herself, testing herself, taking up bartending in a seedy section of New York City, taking a cheap apartment that was frequently broken in to. She needed to prove she could stand on her own two feet after having the overprotective brother treatment her entire life.
Only recently, a couple of years ago, she’d finally gotten tired of her life, feeling like she was stuck in a r
ut. Josh had helped her, bringing her back home, getting her a job in the much safer town of Clover Park. Even helping her get the paperwork together to get started at community college.
“Mad, what happened to you?”
“Just took a different path is all,” she said, tracing a small circle on the table.
“Well, you’re doing great now. I’m proud of you.”
She huffed.
“What?”
She stood. “Stop acting like my dad.”
“I’m not. I’m your bro.” He lifted a fist for a fist bump. Like she was just one of the guys. The guys always called each other bro, whether or not they were related.
She scowled and left him hanging. “None of my bros say shit like that.”
“They should.”
Her throat felt tight. It really and truly sucked to find yourself still in love with a man who had no feeling for you whatsoever. Except for the stupid friend feeling. No one had ever measured up to the bar he set. And that wasn’t because of sex either, because they’d never had anything but a kiss. It was just the good man he was. Despite everything that had happened to him, he’d reached down deep and found some inner strength that touched everything he did with kindness. He’d always been so good to her. Why couldn’t he see she was all grown up now? Ready for more?
“Thanks for breakfast,” she said and left, heading upstairs for a shower. Her swirling emotions quickly turned to anger. Honestly, what did she have to do to shed the twerpy one-of-the-guys image? Get naked?
She stopped dead in her tracks. It was a ballsy move, but what the hell did she have to lose? She’d be naked in the shower. Maybe she’d drop the soap or run out of shampoo or need a towel. Something to get him in there. The shower had a frosted glass door, which should show her off in a flattering way. She was fairly sure he wouldn’t be able to make out her tattoo clearly through the glass. If he ever did see it, that meant he’d be close enough to touch and at that point there would be no talking.
As soon as she got to the bathroom, she grabbed the two towels hanging in there, hers and her dad’s, and tossed them in the hamper. She’d ask for a towel. She took a long shower, relaxing and letting it melt the last of her tension away. Then she scrubbed down, washed her hair, and even shaved her legs. Yup, Park was going to get an eyeful and hopefully a handful. She didn’t worry about waking up her dad down the hall. He slept with a white-noise machine, door closed, furthest from the bathroom, and wouldn’t be up until early afternoon.
She turned off the shower and poked her head out the shower door. “Park! I need help!”
She wasn’t surprised to hear him hustling up the steps only a moment later. He’d always been her hero. Had always rescued her when she got herself in over her head. She shut the shower door and waited for the magic moment when Park’s eyes would open to her womanly reality.
He spoke through the bathroom door. “What’s wrong? Are you hurt?”
“No. I forgot my towel. Can you get me one?”
“Mad! I thought it was serious. Get your own damn towel.”
“In the hall closet.”
“I know where the towels are,” he said, his voice already fading as he went to fetch one.
The bathroom door opened, and she held her breath, and then scowled.
His hand was over his eyes as he held out the towel. “Here.”
She opened the shower door a small amount and held out her hand. “I can’t reach it,” she said, making no effort whatsoever.
He stepped a little closer, still covering his eyes. “Take it,” he ordered, waving it around.
She reached out, took it, and promptly dropped it. “Oops. I dropped it.” She lowered her voice to what she hoped was a husky enticing tone. “Everything is so wet and slippery in here. Can you get it?”
He had to open his eyes to see where it went. He had to see her now. Come on, come on.
He turned his back to her, squatted down and reached back for the towel.
Really?
He got it, stood, and turned, eyes closed. “Last chance and then you’re on your own. Catch.” He tossed it in an arc over the shower door, where it landed on her head. “See ya.”
“See ya,” she muttered, pulling the towel off her head and drying off. Fuck my life.
She adjusted the towel high enough to cover the tattoo over her heart, headed down the hall, and promptly ran into Park. He did a weird careening dance, palms up, to avoid her. She could probably drop the towel right now and he’d just say, “You dropped your towel,” and hand it to her.
She seethed and continued to her room.
She was truly grown up now, not a wannabe grown-up at fifteen like she’d been. Dammit. She quickly dressed.
Mad didn’t know what made her drive to Hailey’s apartment, when she should be holed up in her room, studying for final exams, but here she was. She pressed the bell on Hailey’s basement apartment and waited. She knew Hailey normally took wedding planner appointments at the Ludbury House mansion in Clover Park on Sundays, but it was a week before Christmas and she’d closed shop for the holidays.
Hailey opened the door and beamed her dazzling smile, pale blue eyes bright. She wore a pink fuzzy sweater with pink pants, looking all perfectly made up, even for a Sunday at home. “I knew I’d hear from you today. Come in and tell me everything.”
Mad stepped inside the cozy little space filled with all sorts of girly stuff—a floral sofa, wood end tables, lamps with little fringes on the shades, romance novels and wedding magazines on display in a bookcase and on the coffee table. Hailey was an unabashed romantic. As a wedding planner should be.
Mad flopped on the super-cushy sofa and sighed. “Nothing to tell. Park still thinks of me as one of the guys.”
Hailey cleared a space on the coffee table in front of Mad and slid a coaster there. “Did you wear your black skinny jeans like Charlotte told you to?” The women had all discussed her outfit at the bar, knowing what little she had in her closet.
“Yes!” she barked.
“Lemonade, tea, or water?” Hailey inquired.
“You don’t have to get me anything. I don’t even know why I’m here. I should be studying. I have a stats final tomorrow.”
“Sounds like tea,” Hailey said, heading to the nearby kitchen. Her apartment was pretty nice, a living room open to a small dining area and kitchen, a bedroom, and a tiny bathroom. It was the lower level of a colonial home owned by a single career woman, who was rarely home.
Mad followed her into the kitchen.
Hailey set a teakettle on the stove top. “Now what makes you think he sees you as one of the guys?”
“He called me little bit and mini. I’m sure I would’ve heard shortstack if he’d paid more attention to me than my brothers.”
“But that’s cute.”
“No, he’s got me in the friend category. I know when I’m in the friend zone with a guy, believe me.” She was too mortified to share that Park had zero reaction to her in nothing but a towel.
Hailey gave her a sympathetic look. “I guess you of all people would know since you have so many guy friends. Gosh, I’m so sorry.”
Now Mad felt even worse. Hailey was a die-hard romantic. Even she knew there was no hope.
“But don’t worry!” Hailey caroled, back to her normally cheerful determined demeanor. “I’ve got your back. This is no problem.”
“How is it not a problem?”
Hailey unveiled a plate of freshly baked chocolate chip cookies and Mad nearly cried. They were her favorite, they were effing delicious, and she just knew Hailey had made them special for her, knowing she’d need to talk today after she was so worked up over Park yesterday. She was so damn thoughtful that way.
“Cookie?” Hailey asked.
Mad pressed her lips tightly together. I will not cry, I will not cry. I’m tough. I’m strong. I’m fierce.
Hailey set three cookies on a small plate in front of Mad and then turned to the cabinet for some teac
ups, pretending not to notice Mad was on the verge of tears.
“Who the fuck needs men anyway,” Mad snarled.
“Amen, sister,” Hailey said, reaching for the tea bags.
Mad warmed to the topic. “I mean, why make a big effort when all they care about is big tits anyway?”
“Preaching to the choir,” Hailey said.
Mad couldn’t help but laugh because Hailey actually had big tits. But Hailey had so much more going for her than her looks. She was so damn skilled at the subtle art of conversation, of flirting, of just about everything when it came to social situations. She could even reach Mad where she was, pissed off and frustrated. She wished some of Hailey’s people skills would rub off on her.
Hailey grinned and leaned against the counter. “I can’t wait to meet him at the wedding.” They’d all be heading up to Maine next weekend for her older brother Jake’s wedding to an honorary book club member, the actress Claire Jordan. Claire was pretty down to earth once you got to know her. Jake had planned the wedding around when Park could be there.
“Why do you want to meet him so much?” Mad asked.
Hailey shook her head and smiled. “Silly! Of course I want to meet the guy who got you so worked up. He must really be something.”
He was everything.
Mad shoved a cookie in her mouth so she wouldn’t blurt out her pathetically lovesick thoughts. Pure pleasure shot through her at the first bite of cookie—the perfect melt of sugary goodness and chocolate. Josh should have this recipe. Her brother was a foodie and planned to open his own bar with awesome food one day. This should definitely be on the dessert menu. Of course, Hailey would sooner die than share her recipes with Josh.
“This is fucking delicious,” Mad said, snagging another cookie. “Never give Josh your recipe. He doesn’t deserve it.”
“Why would I?” Hailey said, stiffening as she always did when Josh came up. “He can eat a ghost pepper for all I care.” That was a really spicy pepper that Josh had slipped into Hailey’s nacho appetizer at Garner’s once. Hailey had pretended it was delicious—nose red, eyes tearing—and asked for the recipe (over much coughing) to prepare it at home. She was super slick that way. Mad had nearly bust a gut trying not to laugh. Josh had laughed heartily.
Inviting Trouble (Happy Endings Book Club, Book 2) Page 4