by Marie Harte
Stupid Christmas season. And whamo. Ella had struck again. Holiday ruined.
“Let’s stop all this foolish talk.” Her mother shoved her hands back in the soapy water and finished the remaining dishes. “Today is a day for fun and celebration. How about if I promise that the next time I sit with you and Foley, I’ll behave and apologize for being so mean to the poor young man?”
“Great.” Cyn tried to put on a cheery face, but she couldn’t help wondering. How long could the newness of sexual attraction last before Foley’s eye wandered? Would he eventually turn into Jon, wanting her to be something she wasn’t?
The rest of the evening passed in a blur until Cyn finally found herself at home with a glass of wine, staring into a blazing fire. She wondered what Foley was up to, and if he thought about her at all.
She stared at the gaily wrapped present in front of her, half afraid to open it.
“Screw it.”
Refusing to let her mother get to her, she put down her glass and reached for the present, charmed at the uneven taping and wrinkles in the paper. Something to make her smile again after her hellish evening with Ella.
The package was too large to be jewelry—thank goodness—but too small to be anything she recognized. Not a piece of clothing, for sure. After unwrapping it and discarding the bow, she opened the box.
Inside, she found a small booklet of coupons, each of which had been handwritten by Foley. She had her option of bowling, a striptease, flowers and chocolates, a movie night, and several other activities that made her blush just reading them. A tiny framed picture of a smiling Foley had also been included, which made her laugh. The sticky note attached to the back of it read: “Now I’m always with you, lucky girl.”
Last, she found a gift card to an expensive chocolate shop in Queen Anne she liked to drool over. A sticky note had been attached to it as well.
“Something sweet for my sweet. Yeah, clichéd.” Which he’d spelled wrong. “But I like your vices. Yes to chocolate, no to other men.” This time he’d signed it. Yours, Foley.
She felt shivery, excited, and laughed.
Her mother’s words faded as if they’d never existed.
Foley liked Cyn for herself. He didn’t want her to be someone different.
Not yet at least.
She’d treasure their time together, so that when it ended, she’d have good memories. Unlike her relationship with Jon, she knew to hold a piece of herself back, so when they ended, she’d rebound faster and easier. She had to be cautious with this one, because Foley, unlike the others, had gotten close so quickly. Just by being himself.
A danger, a thrill, and a perverse way to torture herself all in one.
“My own Christmas present from hell. Foley Sanders.” She sighed and drank more wine, holding her picture of Foley close. She fell asleep with it against her heart.
Chapter 13
Foley sat with Sam, Eileen, Jacob, and the rest of Jacob’s family in a big-ass house on Bainbridge Island. The guy had money coming out the ass, and he lived a ferry ride from Eileen.
A good thing—the guy wasn’t so close he’d be underfoot all the time. A bad thing—Eileen would have an excuse to spend the night if she “lost track of time” while out with the guy.
“So, Foley, Eileen tells me you and Sam are mechanics.” Jacob smiled.
Dr. Jacob Wynn, DDS, had straight white teeth, blue eyes behind designer frames, and an all-around terrific smile. He also had a spankin’ house, a nice family, and damn it, the dude had manners—his mother’s kryptonite. The guy could have three wives and a closet full of dead bodies, but as long as he said “please” before knifing her, she’d allow it.
Sam nudged him.
“Oh, er, yeah. I work with Sam at Webster’s Garage on Rainier.”
“How long have you been doing that?”
Foley glanced at his mother, who gave him a look that told him to behave. Thirty-three friggin’ years old, and still threatened by a woman less than half my size. Pathetic. “Since I got out of—”
“High school,” Eileen interrupted with a smile. “My boys have always been mechanically inclined.”
He and Sam shared a glance. So. She’d changed her mind about full disclosure to the new guy. She didn’t want any mention of their prison sentence. Interesting.
She hadn’t told him or Sam to hide the fact that they’d done time. Not that they ever brought it up in casual conversation. But she sure hadn’t let him mention it now.
Foley wasn’t sure he liked this Jacob Wynn.
His mother seemed different about this one. She’d dated before, but she hadn’t kept anyone a secret. And from what he recalled, she’d never dated a guy with money.
Ah well, what the hell? If she wanted to bang a rich dude, who was he to judge? He wanted Cyn for her body and her mind. Mostly her body. Nah, her mind turned him on just as much.
He smiled at the thought.
“You two are lucky,” Jacob was saying. He had salt-and-pepper hair, a decent enough physique, though Foley thought he could break the guy’s back without too much trouble, and a nice wardrobe. He wore slacks. At home. For brunch.
“I can change my oil and my own brake pads,” Noel, his son-in-law, added with a self-deprecating smile. He was about Foley’s age and had a techie vibe. “But that’s about it.”
Foley liked him and the daughter, Jan. “Yeah, well, I can fix a car, but I can’t fix a computer.”
Noel grinned. “Microsoft is my game. Coding is my name.”
“Please. Not in public.” Jan grimaced.
Her father and Eileen laughed. Foley couldn’t help a grin, and even Sam gave a half smirk at Noel’s red face.
“Uh-oh. I’m going to get it tonight,” Jan teased, looking every glowing inch of a pregnant woman. Her tiny baby bump did little to detract from her prettiness. It enhanced it.
“Yeah, no foot rub for you, brat.” Noel squeezed her knee, and she jumped. “Ha. I know all your tickle spots. Behave.”
The cuteness was a bit sickening, but the pair seemed to care for each other, and they’d been supernice to his mom. Not fake-nice either, but genuine.
Sam stood and asked for directions to the bathroom. Jacob showed him the way, disappearing down the hall with Sam behind him.
“Is Sam okay?” Jan asked after Sam had gone.
Eileen nodded. “Don’t mind him. For Sam, that’s his happy face.”
“Oh.” Jan looked at Foley. “No offense, but you guys look like you could rip my car doors off if you wanted to.”
Foley grinned. “Depends on the make and model of your car.”
Noel laughed. “Don’t ask her. She’s clueless.”
“Hey. I know where to put my key and how to shift into drive.”
“That’s really all you need,” Eileen agreed. “When you need a tire changed or something fixed, you take your car to the dealer.”
“Mom.” Foley groaned. “What have I said about the dealer?”
“I know. A rip-off. Sorry, honey. I mean to a garage.”
“Thanks.”
Jacob returned. “I don’t mind saying I wouldn’t want to make Sam mad. I turned around and realized he’s a good head and a half taller than I am.”
“Yeah? Well he’s not too big for me to pop in the tush if he gets mouthy.” Eileen grinned.
Tush? The real Eileen would have said ass. Why was she cleaning up her language for slick dental guy?
Foley wanted to find fault in the man, but damned if he could. Since arriving for their brunch half an hour ago, Jacob had been polite, witty, and sweet to Eileen.
Foley liked the guy as a casual hookup for his mom. But as something more important in her life? That didn’t sit well.
Which made him feel weird, because ever since Foley could remember, he’d been the man in Eileen Sa
nders’s life. He didn’t know how to deal with the presence of Jacob Wynn. Because Eileen seemed attached to Jacob since they’d arrived, treating Sam and Foley to maternal smiles and a slight distance Foley understood as a warning. To behave, and to allow some other guy to take over.
Take over what, numbnuts? He’s just dating your mom. No biggie.
Man, he was dying to talk to Cyn again. What would she make of the situation? And more pressing, did she like her Christmas gift?
Sam returned, and Jacob ushered them all into his posh dining room, where the table had been set for royalty.
“Holy shit. Are we expecting the queen?” Sam muttered.
Jan must have heard him, because she snickered.
“What?” Noel asked.
“Nothing.” She winked at Sam, who gave her an actual grin.
Everyone sat at the large round table, decked out with a red tablecloth, a matching floral centerpiece done in Christmas colors in a cool-looking vase, cloth napkins, silver napkin rings, and friggin’ porcelain dinner plates with crystal glassware. Eileen and Jan sat on either side of Jacob. Sam sat next to Eileen, with Foley next to him and a lot of space before he could reach Noel. Damn. The table could easily accommodate a good nine or ten guests.
Above them a crystal chandelier gave off a subtle glow. Jacob’s house looked like it had been decorated by an interior decorator. Greenery and red ribbons wound around the wood staircase and grand mantel in the living room. He had antiquey furniture that Foley feared breaking if he sat too fast, so he’d been careful where he planted his ass.
Foley heard sounds from the kitchen and frowned. “Someone else is here?”
Jacob nodded. “I’m having the meal catered. Don’t think I do this all the time, but I wanted to impress Eileen’s boys—her word, not mine.”
Sam nodded. “I’m impressed.”
Foley was too. “So you have a lot of money.”
“Foley.” Eileen gasped.
“What? He’s got a big house, has his private dock out back—I saw the boat. And he’s having brunch catered.” To Jacob, he said, “Am I wrong thinking you’re loaded?”
Next to him, Sam tried not to laugh and coughed to cover up.
Foley glanced over at Jan and Noel, who stared at him in surprise.
“I’m sorry. Is this a big secret?” Now he felt stupid and gauche—the word a writer friend of Del’s had flashed around the garage a time or two while researching some book of hers.
Jacob took a long sip of water from a fancy crystal glass that probably cost more than Foley’s electric bill. “Not a secret any longer, apparently.” Jacob laughed, and Eileen relaxed, though she shot Foley a hard look.
“What?” He shrugged. “I’m just saying it’s a good thing. I don’t want a guy after my mom for her money. She’s not exactly poor.”
“Foley Sanders. Behave,” Eileen admonished.
Foley took a sip of his water, not surprised to find it crisp, cold, and delicious. It took a lot to refrain from drinking with his pinkie out, as if one of the Richie Riches.
“I’m not trying to be rude. I’m just saying—”
“He’s saying you’re okay, Jacob,” Sam interrupted. “That’s what he’s saying.”
“Yeah, that’s all.” Foley put down his glass. “See, my mom is too nice. The last few guys she dated hit her up for rent money. So we hit them up for a repayment of the ‘loan’ later.”
His mom slapped a hand over her eyes and prayed for strength.
“I meant hit up as in talked to them. I didn’t actually hit them,” Foley explained.
Noel and Jan continued to stare at him, open-mouthed. Even Jacob watched him with caution.
“He’s not lying,” Sam said, backing him up. And Foley wasn’t. He’d told her exes to pay up while Sam had pounded some sense into them.
“Right. I’m not.” Foley took his napkin and placed it over his lap, the way his mom had. “So what’s for brunch? I’m starved.”
His mother groaned, and Noel and Jan laughed.
Jan raised a glass to him. “You know, Dad told us to be on our best behavior, but if you can ask about money, can we ask about all the tattoos? Are you guys gangbangers or what?”
“Jan.” Jacob turned red.
“I like her,” Sam said. At Noel’s frown, Sam added, “But not that much. Sorry, dude, not into other guys’ pregnant wives.”
“Good.”
Foley turned to Sam. “Man, that was tacky.”
“And asking about money wasn’t?” Sam snorted. “No wonder Cyn turned you down the first time you asked her out. You’re a mess in social situations.”
“Me?” Foley couldn’t believe Sam had the nerve to say that. “I’m not the one hitting on a hot pregnant chick who’s married.”
Jan blushed.
“You are hot,” Noel agreed.
“She is,” Sam said. “But I wasn’t hitting on her. I like her honesty. Too many rich assholes are just that, assholes. I’m not thinking Eileen’s dentist is a dick either.”
Jacob gave a weak, “Thanks.”
“Where’s that mimosa you promised?” Eileen asked Jacob, sounding desperate.
“Coming right up.” Jacob escaped to the kitchen and returned moments later with a waiter bearing drinks. “Please. Make sure those two get plenty.” He nodded at Sam and Foley.
“Told you I liked him.” Sam nodded at Jacob. “Now about the tats, we got them after a few rough years after high school. But no naked ladies. Eileen frowned on that.” He rolled up his sleeves and showed off his arms. Then he nodded to Foley to do the same.
When Jacob leaned closer to get a look, Eileen sighed. “You can clean ’em up, but you can’t take ’em out.”
Jacob glanced at his daughter and nodded. “I know.”
* * *
Forty-five minutes later, Jan giggled at something Noel said, though she’d been drinking straight-up orange juice, minus the champagne.
“So when are you due, sweetie?” Eileen asked her.
“End of March. We’re so excited.” She and Noel held hands on top of the table.
Foley sat back, stuffed on a scrambled-egg-and-lobster dish, shrimp cocktail, some weird pâté, and a hash mix that had been amazing. The truffles—mushrooms for the rich as opposed to the prepackaged veggies at the grocery store—had tasted surprisingly good, considering he didn’t normally like mushrooms on his pizza or otherwise. And the booze with breakfast only added to the good times.
His mom had finally relaxed, smiling and joking, so she’d apparently forgiven him for being rude. Sue him. Best to get out the issues from the get-go. He didn’t want the guy soaking up his mom’s money or taking advantage of her. Did that make him a bad guy? Hell no. It made him a concerned son.
His phone buzzed, and his heart raced. “Ah, I’ll be right back.” He left the table for the bathroom. Jesus, could the guy make do with just a toilet and sink? But no. The bathroom was the size of Foley’s kitchen. The toilet was one of those eco-friendly types that practically wiped your own ass when you finished. The sink was large and modern and had a faucet stuck out of the wall. The artsy mirror and funky lights highlighted the expensive-looking tile on the floors and the backsplash of the sink.
And, because you never knew when you might want to hang out by a toilet, a plush chair and side table occupied the sidewall, over which a painting stood watch.
Foley took out his phone to take a picture of the place to share with the guys. Then he sat in the chair and read his text. A note from Del: Be back on Monday. U better not have f’d up the garage. Merry Xmas.
Though disappointed the text hadn’t been from Cyn, he nevertheless had to smile. He’d missed Del and Liam. The garage felt better with the Websters in it. And Jekyll, he thought, liking when she brought the growing puppy with her because it made Sam more m
anageable. Plus it was damn cute.
He sent Cyn a picture of the bathroom and a text, unable to wait for her to send one first. In rich guys hous w/ mom & sam, makng stupid talk & geting in truble. What up with u?
He took advantage of his location and used the bathroom, startled when the damn toilet flushed itself before he could, then washed his hands with some foofy-smelling soap. The towel he used to dry his hands felt like silk. Of course it does, because everything in Jacob’s house is expensive, tasteful, and cool.
Knowing he couldn’t wait forever for Cyn to text back, he moved to the door.
The phone vibrated.
To his pleased surprise, she texted back. Wow. Nice toilet. LOL I remember how bad you are at being tactful. Be nice. Have your mom’s back. Can’t wait to see you again.
PS. LOVE the present. When can I use my coupons?
He grinned, his good mood restored, and tucked his phone away. Then he left the bathroom and found the gathering still in full swing.
“So I knew at a young age Foley would be a handful.”
As he sat, he noted the amused looks on everyone’s faces. Sam in particular wore a wicked smile.
“Oh boy. What’s she been saying?”
Jacob swallowed a laugh. “Just that I should be careful or you might egg my house, toilet paper my trees, and misspell a bunch of curse words all over my car in neon purple soap.”
“Mom.” Foley flushed. “Spelling was never my strong suit.”
“Seriously. He sucks.”
“Sam.”
Jan speared a strawberry off her husband’s plate. “Don’t worry about it. That’s what your wife will be for. I married Noel so he’d fix my computers. I’m terrible with them. But he can’t even boil an egg, so I cook. We’re even.”
Noel scratched his head. “I think I’m ahead. I work the computers, the car, the bills, the TV remote. Hmm. What else?”
“Well I grocery shop, buy your clothes, iron your pants, your shirts, I—”