by Reese Ryan
“It’s a Friday night,” she said incredulously.
They went through admissions and found a couple of seats together in the waiting room across from a woman who was groaning and holding her stomach and a man who looked like someone had tried to kick the shit out of him. Miles slid down in his seat. They’d be there for a while. His gimpy wrist seemed to be the lowest priority from looking around the waiting room.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered loudly enough for her to hear. “I know this isn’t the way you wanted to spend your night. Believe me, it’s certainly not what I had in mind. I was expecting to be on Round Two—the after-snack edition—right about now.” He smirked.
Jamie laughed. “Next time you’ll eat your damn sandwich like I told you.” She poked him in his arm.
“I should have listened. Maybe if I’d gotten my strength up first I wouldn’t have fallen.” He slipped his right arm around her waist and pressed his lips to her ear. “But it was pretty spectacular. I’d say that was worth a few broken bones. Wouldn’t you?”
“You’re an idiot, you know that?” Jamie elbowed him gently in the side. She leaned in and kissed the side of his face. “But you’re a pretty cute idiot, one I’m apparently powerless to resist.”
The man and woman across from them exchanged a knowing smirk despite the fact that they were both obviously in a great deal of pain. Great. Let the hilarity begin.
* * *
Miles raised his head at the sound of his phone vibrating on the nightstand next to Jamie’s bed. He tilted his head to look at the clock. It was nearly ten, and bright light streamed through the thin bedroom curtains. They’d returned to her place around seven that morning. He’d barely gotten three hours of sleep. He lay back down and snuggled against Jamie, who was sleeping soundly. There was no way he was answering that phone until he was coherent again.
But the caller was persistent. His phone rang twice more. When it rang a fourth time he snatched the phone from the nightstand and checked the caller ID. Uttering a few choice expletives, his head hit the pillow again. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before ducking into the living room. “Mother? What’s wrong? Is Kari okay?”
“Well, hello to you, too, son,” she replied in a tone that managed to simultaneously sound insulted and amused.
Miles squeezed the bridge of his nose as he sighed heavily. “Good morning, Mother. How are you?”
“That’s better,” she practically cooed. “One of the few pleasures a divorced woman of my age, who does not have grandchildren—” she stressed, “—has to look forward to is hearing the lilt in her children’s voice when she calls.”
Great. He was exhausted and had a fractured wrist. Now he had to endure one of Lucinda Copeland’s famous guilt trips. “I know, and I’m glad to hear your voice.”
“Good. Because I have a surprise for you.”
“Oh? And what is that?”
“Guess where I am right now?”
“I don’t know.” Miles sank into the couch. “Having lunch with Aunt Lacey?”
“No. I’m with your sister and we just arrived at the airport.” There was a huge smile in her voice.
“That’s nice,” he was saying when suddenly his half-mast lids jerked open. The muscles in his gut clamped tight and a vein in his forehead twitched. “Which airport?”
“Hopkins International, of course. We came to see you. Isn’t that a wonderful surprise?”
Miles sat up, blinking. “You’re here? Now? Like, right now?”
“What is wrong with you, son? Of course we’re here, ‘like, right now.’ That’s why I’m calling you. Isn’t that a great surprise?”
Yeah. Great. Like a fucking rotten tooth or another hole in your head. He loved his mother. Of course he did. But their viewpoints on how he should live his life vastly differed. He’d grown tired of fighting her on everything and preferred to just nod and smile except when there was good reason not to back down. He glanced toward the bedroom where Jamie was sleeping soundly. Jamie would be that reason. “I look forward to seeing you and Kari, of course. I just wish you’d called.”
“Then it wouldn’t be a surprise,” she said, matter-of-factly.
“No, I guess it wouldn’t.” He sighed and thought carefully about his next words. “Will you be staying—”
“With you, in that fancy new pad of yours? Of course.” He could hear her self-satisfied smile. “We can’t wait to see it.”
He nodded, glad he’d hired Mimi to decorate the space. It looked incredible. Miles ran the fingers of his injured hand through the wild, spiky hair, standing all over his head, and winced. He needed a haircut. Or at least Lucinda would think so. “Do you want me to pick you up or should I send a car for you?”
“If you’d prefer that a strange man escort your mother and sister to—”
“I’ll be there, okay.” He messaged his throbbing temple. “I just need a few minutes to get dressed.”
“It’s ten in the morning. You’re still sleeping?”
“It’s been a long night, Mother. I’ll be there as soon as I can. In the meantime, grab a bite to eat.” Or maybe have a drink and chill the fuck out.
“Okay, sweetheart, but you won’t keep us waiting long, will you? It’s not like we’re at the Four Seasons.”
Miles groaned inwardly, though he couldn’t help being slightly amused by his mother’s antics. “See you in half an hour.”
He tossed his phone on the table, cursing under his breath. Why did Queen Lucinda choose this weekend for one of her surprise visits? He’d hoped to spend every waking hour with Jamie. Things had been weird between them all week. She’d trusted him with her devastating secret, but then he’d upset things by telling her how he felt about her. He should’ve known she’d find his admission unsettling, but the words had tumbled from his lips before he could snatch them back.
Instead of being with Jamie, he and his busted wrist would spend the weekend babysitting his mother and sister. And of course, he’d have to explain his wrist injury. Miles rubbed his stubbly jaw. He’d need to start thinking of a damn good story to explain it.
Glancing toward Jamie’s bedroom again, he tapped a finger on his knee, his lips pressed into a slight grimace, brows knitted. She’d been ready to break up with him just a few days ago. If he introduced Jamie to his mother and sister now, she’d really freak out, maybe even jump ship. He might as well kiss her on the forehead and tell her to have a nice life.
Tugging on his ear, he blew out a long breath that inflated his cheeks and reminded him how much his head hurt.
He couldn’t introduce his mother and sister to Jamie, at least not yet. Miles scrubbed his hand down his face. What if Jamie discovered they were in town? Wouldn’t she be hurt that he hadn’t introduced her to his family? After all, they’d been going out a few months now.
Miles’s hand lingered on his stubbly jaw. Fuck. Lucinda would surely make a remark about that. But he hadn’t packed his razor, and he and Jamie hadn’t arrived at the drawer-at-your-place stage in their relationship. Well, she hadn’t. He’d offered her one at his. She, of course, had declined.
Miles lumbered to his feet. So that was it. He wouldn’t introduce Jamie to Lucinda and Kari, and he wouldn’t tell her they were in town. That was the best thing to do for everyone.
He took a quick shower and got dressed before slipping into the bedroom to say goodbye. Jamie was sprawled across the bed with one tattooed thigh peeking beneath the cover. Her hair, nearly as wild as she, was spread out over the pillow and across her face.
She looked slightly crazy and utterly adorable. The corner of his mouth curled. Man, he had it bad for this girl.
Miles sat on the edge of the bed and pushed the hair from her eyes. He leaned down and kissed her eyelids.
She slowly opened them, eyes fluttering at first, adjusting to the light. “What time is it?”
“It’s a little after ten. Don’t get up,” he said quickly. “Something’s come up and I have to leav
e.”
“Right now? But you’re exhausted.” She rubbed her eye with the back of her hand.
“I am, but this is an emergency. It can’t be helped. I probably won’t see you until later next week.” His face felt hot. He averted his eyes from hers, focusing instead on the way her hair swirled on the pillow.
“But Ellie bought me a waffle maker and I wanted to surprise you with a real breakfast. It’s the least I could do after I broke your wrist.”
“You didn’t fracture my wrist, I did.” He stroked her arm and forced a smile as he leaned down to kiss her forehead. “Tell you what, let’s pretend you didn’t tell me and do it next weekend. I promise to act surprised and eat every single bite. Okay?”
“Okay.” Jamie nodded reluctantly but spread her luscious red lips into a smile that made visions of last night’s sexcapades dance in his head. Both of them.
“Is it okay if I leave my bag here?”
Jamie shrugged. “Sure.”
“Thanks. I’ll call you as soon as I can.” He grabbed his phone and keys off the table and left so he wouldn’t have to see the disappointment in her eyes.
* * *
“Kari!” Miles stepped out his car and hugged his little sister. He mussed her hair. She was sporting a short pixie cut dyed a deep, rich Bordeaux red that was nearly purple. Their mother must’ve shit bricks when she’d seen it. “You cut and colored your hair.”
“It was an impulse thing. What do you think?”
“I like it. It’s very...you.” He smiled.
“Thanks. Hey, what happened to your wrist?”
He cleared his throat, heat spreading across his cheeks as he averted his gaze. “Slipped and fell in the kitchen,” he said quickly.
“Miles! It’s so good to see you.” His mother embraced him and kissed his cheek. Then she pointed to his sister. “Do you see what your sister did to all of that gorgeous hair of hers? She hacked it all off. Just like that. Gone.”
“I donated it to Locks of Love, Mother. Some gorgeous little girl is going to be really grateful I did.” Kari ran a hand through her hair self-consciously.
“I’m proud of you, sis.” Miles draped an arm around her.
Lucinda shook her head. “You two were always thick as thieves. I should’ve expected you to team up on me.”
Miles and Kari rolled their eyes. They were adults now, but not much in the family dynamics had changed. Lucinda was more comfortable in her role as the long-suffering martyr than she was in her own skin. Maybe because it was frozen in time, thanks to one of the best plastic surgeons on the Eastern seaboard.
“My goodness, what happened to your wrist, son?” she asked, finally noticing the black splint on his arm.
He scratched the back of his neck and reached for one of his mother’s bags. “Took a tumble in the kitchen. It’s just a hairline fracture. I’ll be good as new in no time.”
“That’s exactly why I spend as little time in my kitchen as possible.” She punctuated the statement with a pursed lip smile and a raised eyebrow.
Miles finished loading his mother’s bags in the trunk. It took him twice as long with his gimpy wrist. She always traveled heavy. Her motto was: “It takes time, money and an infinite number of products for a woman to keep her looks.” Still, with the amount of luggage she had in tow, did she ever intend on returning home? Kari, on the other hand, had one overnight bag and her purse—an expensive-looking leather satchel big enough to smuggle a Saint Bernard.
As he cruised along I-71, Lucinda chattered constantly, making disparaging remarks about the industrial backdrop of the city. He responded only when required as he tried to remember how he’d left the place the night before. He’d been in a hurry to get to Jamie’s.
“You seem to be adjusting to your new life here,” his mother was saying. “I guess my prayers that you’d abhor it and come running home have fallen on deaf ears.” She looked skyward. “Figures.”
“What kind of mother says something like that?” Kari mused aloud, her voice dripping with exasperation.
After traveling with their mother all morning, his sister must’ve been practically batty. Lucinda was a world-class champ at getting on Kari’s last nerve. His sister was impetuous enough to take the bait every time. As for him, he’d learned the fine art of not reacting. Nothing annoyed Lucinda more than when her tactics didn’t work.
“The kind of mother who actually likes her children and wants to be surrounded by them,” Lucinda said in a tone that made her logic seem incontrovertible.
Miles watched Kari in the rearview mirror as she held her finger and thumb to her head like a gun, then pulled the trigger. He tried to stifle a laugh but couldn’t.
“What’s so funny about that?” Lucinda asked.
“Nothing,” he said, his eyes on the road again. “I was just thinking about how good it is to see you both. How long will you be staying?”
Kari snorted then broke into laughter in the backseat.
“Well, that certainly didn’t take long,” Lucinda said dryly. She adjusted the collar of her tan cashmere coat. “I’ll be staying through the week. Unless, of course, you need me to stay longer.”
Kari cleared her throat in the backseat.
Miles ignored her. “I’d love for you to stay longer, but things are crazy with work. In fact, I had to cancel my plans to work on a very important project this weekend.” That wasn’t a lie. Jamie was very important to him, and the girl was a project. No one who knew her would argue with that. “But I can’t put it off too long.”
Lucinda nodded sagely. “I know how important it is for you to do well at this job, to prove that you’re your own man and you don’t need your father.”
Miles chafed. He switched from one lane to another, determined not to acknowledge her statement. She knew how much he hated talking about his father. He hated it nearly as much as talking to the man himself.
“You’ll like Cleveland, Mother.” Miles tapped his left fingers lightly on the steering wheel while he steered with his right hand. The doctor had advised him to keep the fingers moving so his wrist wouldn’t get too stiff. “I think the city will surprise you.”
“Hmm...” She stared out of the window at an abandoned factory beyond the bridge they were crossing. “I seriously doubt that.”
Good. Then you won’t be staying long. He relegated a small smirk to the left side of his face, the side his mother couldn’t see.
“Well, I have a completely open mind,” Kari said. “I can’t wait for you to show me around. Please, please, please can we check out the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame?”
“You bet.” Miles smiled at his sister’s reflection in the rearview mirror then turned to his mother. “I’m pretty sure the orchestra is performing this week. Maybe I can get tickets.”
Kari rolled her eyes. “Mom drags me to enough highbrow events back home. I’d rather see a football game. You can take her to the orchestra.”
“Whatever you want.”
Lucinda’s face registered a level of disappointment that should be reserved for a woman whose child was a serial killer. “I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.”
Miles didn’t look in the rearview mirror. He already knew his sister was probably holding up her middle finger.
It was going to be a fantastic weekend. Like getting a root canal while you already had a migraine headache.
Miles parked in his spot in the garage then grabbed one of the little carts. Kari helped him load the luggage then slammed the trunk shut.
“You don’t have a doorman?” His mother’s brow furrowed as she looked around the garage. She leaned closer to him and whispered almost as loudly as she’d been talking previously. “This is downtown Cleveland. That can’t be safe.”
“We do have a doorman, in the front lobby. We’re going through the garage. I have a special access key.” He pulled the key card out of his wallet and swiped it.
Kari pulled the door open and they followed him down the plush, ca
rpeted hall, past expensive paintings and elaborate vases overflowing with fresh-cut flowers.
“Fancy,” his sister teased, nodding toward the large arrangement of fresh flowers on the hall table.
He smiled but didn’t say anything. Neither did Lucinda. He knew she’d reserve her judgment until she’d inspected the inside of his place. Miles opened the door and tossed his keys on the side table.
“Sweet.” Kari surveyed the place as she helped her brother unload the luggage.
“Thanks. I’m glad you like it,” he told Kari as he glanced at his mother.
She carefully assessed the condo as she walked through it, running her hand over the surface of the furniture. Good thing the housekeeper had just come on Friday. He hated failing Lucinda’s dust test and getting a lecture about his respiratory system.
“I’m going to take the cart back. Make yourself at home.” Miles ducked out and returned the cart. It’s only a week. He could certainly tolerate his mother as a houseguest for that long. Only he wasn’t sure if he could stand not seeing Jamie for that long.
He wanted to call her, but it was barely noon, and after the night they’d had she’d probably still be sleeping. Besides, he didn’t relish telling her another half truth. Miles forced a long stream of air through his lips before stepping inside the door.
“I love your kitchen.” His sister swept her hand over the granite counter.
Miles momentarily flashed back to the scene at Jamie’s earlier that morning. He cleared his throat and pulled himself together. “Thanks.”
“We should get up early tomorrow and make breakfast.” Kari’s eyes gleamed.
“Sure,” he said, ignoring the dull ache in his eyes and the throbbing pain that had taken up residence in the back of his skull. If he was going to deal with his mother all week, he’d have to find a way to get in a nap.
“Great!” She clapped her hands together. “Which room is mine?”
“Upstairs,” he said. “I’ll show you. Mother, I’ll show you your room now, too, if you’d like.”
She nodded, still looking around. There was a slight smile on her face. He guessed she approved of the place, though he’d bet ten to one she’d make a negative remark before admitting it.