His mother didn’t understand the fine art of home repair. Nate’s opinion was, when something worked, don’t fix it, and when something didn’t work, try kicking it first. In this case, kicking was all that had been called for.
“Why, it was practically purring when I finished,” he said as he set the toolbox down on the counter and opened it up.
His mom shook her head and kissed his cheek. “And it started squeaking again about ten minutes after you left. I got out the spray lubricant, unscrewed the back of the machine and sprayed all over. It hasn’t squeaked since.”
“It was my kick that took care of it.” His mother looked ready to contest the point, so he hastily went on, “But, I won’t argue. Just let me have a look at the sink. If I don’t think I can handle it, we’ll just let the plumber come. But do you know how much they charge for a service call?”
Slowly, his mother backed away and gave him room to open the cabinet doors. Nate rolled up his sleeves and slid down and under the sink.
“Probably not as much as the roofer charged when he had to fix your patch job,” his mom muttered.
“I heard that,” Nate called as he studied the silver U-ish pipe over his head.
“I wanted you to. And speaking of hearing, I need you to listen. No excuses that you didn’t hear me this time. You’re coming to dinner Friday night. It’s Sunday, so that’s five days’ notice.”
He wiggled the U-ish-looking pipe. “This seems loose. Hand me the big pipe wrench, okay?”
She handed the wrench to him as she continued, “About dinner on Friday. I’m going to invite Jocelyn and her daughter Kay over.”
“No.”
Too bad he couldn’t kick the pipe. He could barely get his torso under the sink. But he gave it a couple good thwacks with the wrench just in case that was all it would take. But the pipe just seemed even looser after that and not fixed at all, so he tried to get the wrench around the big bolt that held the sections together.
“And I’m going to make that pot roast you like,” his mom continued.
“I hate pot roast. I like pork roast and sauerkraut.”
His mother always forgot what his favorite dishes were. He thought it was some passive-aggressive way of getting back at him for not giving her grandchildren yet.
“And I’ll make some of my delicious homemade dinner rolls.”
“They’re like bricks.”
“And you’re going to love Kay—”
“Kay? Couldn’t her parents give her a whole name? “Kay. I could never love a woman who’s name was just an initial.”
“—and maybe she’ll be the one you finally marry. Then the two of you will give me grandbabies. Lots and lots of grandbabies. I’ve met Kay. She’s built for babies. Wide hips, you know.”
He thought of Shannon. He wouldn’t call her hips wide. Not that they were too thin. No, they looked perfectly proportioned to the rest of her body.
His mother would be disappointed.
He grinned—thankful he was hidden under the sink—ready to launch the plan he and narrow-hipped Shannon had devised. “Sorry mom. Kay sounds delightful. But I’m seeing someone.”
“Since when?”
He could hear the suspicion in her voice.
Deciding to stick to the truth when possible, he said, “Last night, at Mick’s place. They’re friends.”
“You met her in a bar? Nice girls don’t go to bars and pick up men,” his mother assured him.
“She didn’t pick me up, I picked her up.” Mick had practically had to throw them out so he could close, they sat and talked so long. The plan was simple, they’d use each other as weapons to diffuse their mothers’ mutual matrimonial designs.
One bad-assed biker and a stripper to the rescue.
“Well, nice girls don’t let men pick them up in bars,” his mother humphed.
“This one did.”
He finally got the big pipe wrench to grip the bolt that connected the pipes and turned it.
The pipe fell off with just the first half turn and landed on Nate’s nose. “Ow!”
“What did you do to my sink?” his mother yelled.
“Your sink?” he hollered back as he shimmied out from under the cabinet gripping his aching, moist-feeling nose. “Your sink? What about my nose? I think it’s sunk into my face.”
“I always thought your nose was too big anyway. It could use some sinking. You have your father’s nose, and he never did have an attractive one.”
“Thanks, Mom.” Nate grabbed the towel and held it to his nose, trying to stem the flow of blood. “Can you bleed to death from your nose?”
“No. Now what about my sink? You broke it didn’t you? And now the plumber is going to charge me twice as much.”
“Mom, I’m dying and you’re worried about your sink and money? That shouldn’t be the biggest concern of a devoted mother. My bleeding to death should be.”
She folded her arms across her chest, obviously not feeling overly devoted. “What did you do to my sink?”
“The bolt that held the pipes together was obviously loose, which is probably why it was leaking and the explanation for the fact it fell off so easily. I’ll just tighten it back down and you should be fine.”
“That’s what you say. But I remember that time you were going to cut down that tree in the backyard. You broke my chain saw.”
“Mom, I’d cut almost all the way through that branch and was trying to pull it down when that big one over top of it fell instead…you’re lucky it crushed the saw, not your son.”
“Well, I was rather partial to that saw,” she said with a mischievous grin. “Let’s face it, honey, though I adore you, you’re not Bob Vila. Actually, you’re not even Tim-the-Toolman Taylor.”
“Gee, your faith in me makes me feel special. And speaking of feeling special, I’ve got a new girl now, so you can cancel Friday night’s dinner with the wide-hipped initial girl.”
Maybe just mentioning a new woman would be enough to get his mother off his case for a while. If it was, they wouldn’t have to move on to the second part of their plan.
“No, I won’t cancel dinner,” she said. “Though I won’t invite Kay. Instead you can bring this bar floozy to meet your mother.”
She lifted the towel and peeked under it at his nose. “I think it stopped bleeding, but you’re going to have quite a mark.”
Nate gingerly felt his nose, and though it seemed swollen, it didn’t feel as if he’d broken it.
“Wonder how the floozy will feel about your new nose,” his mom added.
“She’s not a floozy, exactly. She’s a nice girl.”
“Who got picked up in a bar.”
“Mom, our first official date’s Friday. You don’t take a girl to dinner at your mom’s on the first date.”
He grinned. Arguing with his mother was a part of the plan. After all, if he gave in too easily, she’d suspect something. She was a sly one, his mom.
But he was slyer.
Much slyer.
Why, if he hadn’t become a pharmacist, he probably could have been a spy he was so wily.
“Maybe you should bring over more first dates. After all, you’ve never brought one here before, and I still have no grandbabies. Maybe if you bring this girl here now, she’ll realize you’re serious about this relationship.”
“You said she was a floozy. Why would you want me to be serious about a girl like that? And who said I was serious? It’s our first date. We just sat at the bar and drank last night, so that doesn’t count. If I bring her here for dinner she’ll think I’m—”
“—a nice guy,” his mom interrupted. “She’ll think you’re a nice guy. Dinner will be at seven. Don’t be late.”
She leaned over and glanced under the sink. “Now fix my sink.”
“Oh, I’ll fix you…I mean your sink,” he said with a grin.
If he’d become a spy instead of a pharmacist he’d name his missions. He thought of the possibilities as he started to re
attach the pipe.
Operation Meddling Mothers. Yeah, that was perfect.
Operation Meddling Mothers was about to begin.
“MOM?”
Shannon had already agreed to Sunday dinner with her parents—and no one else—before she met Nate. She had expected to find the ordeal trying. But now, despite her mother’s new marry-off-Shannon campaign—or rather because of it—she was looking forward to the evening.
“Oh, Shannon there you are. I have so much news. I’ve been busy,” her mother said as Shannon walked into the house at promptly four-thirty.
“Me, too,” Shannon said, kissing her mother’s cheek.
Her mom patted the chair next to her. Shannon sat as her mother exclaimed in an excited, breathless voice, “I’m sorry that your dinner with Neil didn’t work out.”
“Mom, you have to stop setting me up. I’m not interested.”
As if Shannon hadn’t even spoken, her mother continued, “I’ve got you a date for next Saturday night! A nice boy. His name is Shelby.”
“Sorry, Mom, no can do.”
“Now, Shannon, there you go, being difficult again. I know you have name issues and you think I haven’t thought about how Shelby and Shannon sound together. But I have. It’s not a Shannon Bonnie thing. Oh, I know, I know you’re going to say that whenever someone says your names together, other people with think they’re being shushed, but really, dear, that’s a very narrow view. A man is more than his name.”
“Mom, really it’s not his name—”
“And I know that you think this entire wedding thing is just about my bet with that woman, and maybe that’s what instigated it, but Shannon, dear, let’s face it, you’re not getting any younger. It’s time you settled down and found happiness. Why, your father has endowed my life with such joy. I want you to find a man as endowed as he is.”
Shannon started choking. “Mom—”
Her mother, obviously unaware of what she’d just said, continued, “And I realize that you like to buck the system. That you hate to do anything I suggest because…well, because you’re just a tiny bit difficult, dear.”
Shannon was about to argue, as usual, that she might be difficult but she’d learned from the best. And not only was her mother difficult herself, she was certifiable. But she didn’t get to say all that because her mom held up her hand, stopping her before she started.
“Uh-uh-uh. You know you are. All I’m saying is don’t say no to meeting Shelby just because I suggested it. I’m not saying marry him tomorrow—”
“No, you’re saying marry him in June.”
“At the end of June,” her mother corrected. “That gives you plenty of time to get to know him. But that’s not what I’m worried about. I’d just like you to meet a nice boy. Shelby’s a podiatrist. He’s—”
“Mom, if you’d take a breath, I’d tell you I can’t go out with Shelby because I’m already seeing someone. It’s not because of the name issue, though you’re right, that would be the pits.”
“See, I knew the name thing would be an issue,” her mother muttered.
“It’s not the name thing. It’s simply that I’ve thought about what you said the other day, about me always fighting your wishes, and decided you were right. If you want me to consider marrying, I will. As a matter of fact, I’ve found a man I really like. We have a date next weekend.”
“Really?” Her mother looked suspicious.
“Really,” Shannon assured her. “Mom, we might not always see eye to eye, but I never lie to you. Yes. I met a man after I ditched Neil. His name is Nathan Calder and I like him.”
That wasn’t a lie at all. She did like Nate. Oh, there was a physical attraction. After all, the man gave new meaning to the phrase tall, dark and handsome. But it was more than that. He genuinely seemed like a nice guy. Easy to talk to. Down to earth.
Why, they’d sat at O’Halloran’s and talked most of the night away. But they’d made good use of their time. They’d devised a plan to take care of both of their mothers’ nagging.
If Shannon was looking for a man—which she wasn’t, she was sticking to her motto, use them and lose them—but if she was, Nate might warrant a look, or even two.
“I think you’ll like him,” she said.
Silently she added, if you met the real him. But if things went the way they’d planned, Brigit O’Malley wasn’t going to like Nathan Calder at all.
“You’ll bring him by?”
“Yeah. Next weekend sometime, maybe? Let me run it by him and I’ll get back to you about when.”
Shannon spent the rest of the visit basking in her successful first step. Her mother was about to learn a valuable lesson. Be careful what you wish for…it just might come true.
Oh, yeah. Her mother wanted her to find a significant other, and Shannon was about to do just that.
Only she doubted that when her mother envisioned her riding away, duly wed, she pictured her on the back of a Harley.
SHANNON BONNIE O’MALLEY, who would have thought?
Shannon asked herself the rhetorical question as she stared at her reflection in the mirror.
She was rather awed by what she saw.
Oh, Shannon had realistic views of herself. She wasn’t gorgeous, but she wasn’t so ugly that her mama tied pork chops around her neck to get the dog to play with her when she was a baby. She was comfortably in the middle most days.
But now?
Well, who knew that the right undergarments could make such a difference? After she’d hatched her plan with Nate the other night, she’d made an emergency trip to a lingerie store to prepare for their date and had left herself at the mercy of a sales clerk.
The woman and her underwear—not her under wear, but the underwear the store sold—were amazing.
Panties that sucked things in.
And a bra that stuck things out—things she never even imagined she owned.
Actually, the bra was the most interesting contraption she’d ever seen. It had a little pump and she could actually inflate it until she’d achieved just the right size breasts.
Oh, they were fake breasts, but—she checked the mirror again—no one would ever know. Instead of a flat drop from her neck to her feet she had a long channel of cleavage exposed from the daring cut of her new red dress. A new red dress that would give her mother a heart attack and convince Nate’s mother that pushing for grandchildren might not be such a great idea, at least not if Shannon was the woman in the running for becoming their mother.
She backed up so she got a good look at the entire effect. Though the hemline fell to her knees, the slit up either side practically showed off her new body-sucking panties.
Oh, yeah, this was good.
She finished applying her makeup with a heavy hand and studied the results.
Yes, she believed she could convince Nate’s mother she was a stripper.
No, she took that back.
Not stripper.
If she was a stripper, she’d find the term insulting. Degrading even.
Even if she was taking off her clothes for money, she hoped she’d still retain her sense of dignity.
Exotic dancer.
Yep, that’s the term she’d prefer if she was a stripper…exotic dancer. It sounded so much more dignified.
Her doorbell rang and she checked her watch. Nate was prompt. She liked that in a man.
She slipped on her stiletto-heeled boots and zipped them all the way to her knees, then hurried to the door.
She opened it and immediately looked to Nate’s face for his reaction to his exotic-dancer date.
His slack-jawed, ogling response was just what she’d hoped for.
“I take it you approve?” she asked.
“Oh, honey, I do, but my mom will absolutely faint. She told me only floozies allowed themselves to be picked up in a bar and when she gets a look at you, she’ll rest her case, but she won’t rest easy. As a matter of fact, after seeing you, my mother might try to make me move back ho
me so she can protect me.”
“Do you think you need protection?” Shannon asked with her throatiest voice. She figured if she was an exotic dancer, she’d have that kind of sexy bedroom voice and had been practicing all week.
“I don’t think any man in his right mind would want to be protected from you. But I do think every man’s mother would want to lock her son up rather than let a stripper like you—”
“Actually I prefer the term exotic dancer, if you don’t mind,” she said, pleased she’d managed to keep a straight face.
She’d managed, but Nate didn’t.
He burst out laughing.
“Oh, that’s good. Real good. You know, you could have been an actress instead of a teacher.”
“Well, it won’t be good if you laugh like that. How are we supposed to convince your mother you’re head over heels in love with me if you can’t stay in character?”
“Sorry.” He crossed his heart. “It won’t happen again.”
“It had better not. It’s not just that I’m worried you’ll blow the charade with your mom. That would be your problem, after all. It’s that I need to know you’re going to be able to convince my mom when we meet her tomorrow.”
“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to look as good as you do.”
“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“You should. But can I point out that Shannon isn’t a very good stripper name.”
“Oh, I thought about that. When I dance—I’m an exotic dancer, not a stripper, I’ll thank you very much to remember that—I use the stage name Roxy.”
“Oh, Roxy is good.” He laughed. “I think you’re having just a little too much fun with this.”
Shannon drank in the sight of him—and oh what a sight it was. Nate had that Cary Grant-ish sort of look—the kind that was born for a business suit, but could as easily carry off just jeans and a T-shirt.
She wondered what he’d look like in a tux.
She tried to picture it.
Oh, yeah, Nate Calder would look mighty fine in a tux. His shoulders were broad and the jacket would hang ever so comfortably from them.
As a matter of fact, she thought she’d tuck quite comfortably under those arms, given a chance. Not that she expected to be wrapped in Nate’s arms, not unless it became necessary as part of their act.
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