Then He Came Back (Love From Austin Book 2)

by Chris Campillo

  Are you kidding me? Had Mimi completely forgotten Sue’s relationship with her own mother? Thank God, her aunt had not pushed her to reach out to Peggy.

  “Now go on.” Mimi pulled on Sue’s arm. “They’re in the kitchen.”

  Sue slipped into the familiar room and found Wes mangling some kind of raw bird with a deadly looking knife. Another carcass sat on a rack. Trey had a third, but he was moving his blade through the flesh as if it were butter. Definitely a surgeon. Good to know, as the way things were looking, Wes might need a finger reattached within the next five minutes. She bit her tongue, knowing a lecture would not help her cause at this point.

  The guys hadn’t noticed her yet. Her body craved to hug her boy. Needed it. Needed to make the connection that had been severed. Maybe if she went with her impulse and squeezed him long enough, he’d finally cave in and respond. Dream on.

  “Hey, guys.” Hopefully, they didn’t notice the fear in her voice.

  Wes jerked his head up, mumbled a short hello, then immediately turned back to the mutilated poultry. Though technically polite, his icy greeting felt like a punch in the gut.

  “Good to see you, Sue.” Trey’s smile softened the blow. God bless the man for trying to lighten the tension, but she doubted anyone could pull off that miracle. Suck it up, gal.

  She walked over to the counter where they were slaughtering the birds. “What’s that?”

  “Dinner.” Trey looked over to Wes. “We’re having duck.”

  The “we’re” stung. One more reminder that she was on the outs. She could only nod.

  “Why don’t you stay?” Trey asked.

  A rush of joy surged through her immediately followed by panic. She’d been invited into the club. Would Wes yell, “Hell no!” and storm off? Did Trey realize this might push Wes further away? Obviously not, because he kept right on as if all God’s children were happy together. “We’ve got plenty, don’t we?” he asked, nudging Wes.

  After the world’s longest moment, Wes glanced at Sue. “Yeah.”

  She eased out the deep breath she’d been holding. Despite Wes’s less-than-enthusiastic response, this was a step forward.

  “I’d love to.” She hated duck, but she’d eat sweetbread if it meant spending more time with her boy. She stared at Wes, willing him to look up. She wanted to see his eyes, wanted to confirm he really was okay with the family dinner, but he focused on his work.

  After a bit, she turned to Trey and found him smiling at her. It was easy to respond in kind, feeling appreciation and hope. “Is there anything I can do?” She had no culinary skills, but she wanted to stay in the kitchen and hang with the inner circle. Please don’t make me cut the dead creatures.

  Trey stopped his deboning and looked around. “Why don’t you mince the garlic and onion?”

  Even she could do that, and probably without cutting off a finger. Mimi had mentioned how Trey had equipped her kitchen with the tools of a gourmet chef, creating the perfect environment for spending time with Wes. Apparently, her son enjoyed cooking, although he’d never bonded with her over scrambled egg prep.

  Pulling out a cutting board and a knife that looked like something from a horror movie, Trey set her up on the counter across from them. Why couldn’t she just use a steak knife?

  “Mince the garlic finely. Same with the onion.”

  “Of course.” She feigned confidence, but Wes let out a snort.

  Trey nodded at her and headed back to his duck. So, he’d noticed it, too. Wes might’ve been laughing at her expense, but he was at least experiencing some form of humor while she was in the same room. Baby steps.

  Everyone worked in silence, and she actually relaxed. She was grateful she was separated from the guys, because peeling the garlic took her forever. Why in the hell didn’t they buy the stuff in the jar? A ridiculous waste of time, but it kept her with Wes, so peeling she did.

  Next came the onion. Again, so not necessary. You could buy the dried stuff anywhere. At least it was easier to peel. But once she started cutting, her eyes began to water, then her nose began to run. She wiped her nose and eyes with her sleeve, but she eventually had to walk away.

  Trey turned around. “Don’t cry. The ducks lived a good life.” He laughed at his stupid joke and no doubt her ruined makeup. She gave him a dirty look, but it didn’t faze him. In fact, he wiped his hands on a towel, then lightly brushed away her tears.

  Whoa! She jerked back, his gentle touch sending a charge through her, but couldn’t look away. His eyes were dark and hungry, his breathing rapid. This was crazy.

  She went back to her cutting board, but he walked up behind her, close enough to put his hand on the small of her back. Damn! With shaky hands, she centered the onion on the cutting board, then stopped. She didn’t need to be slinging a knife. Her reunion with Wes wouldn’t be marked with a missing thumb.

  Trey moved in closer, his lips almost touching her ear. “I forgot to tell you.” She could feel the warmth of his body against her back as he leaned over and turned on the gas burner beside her. “Keep this going. It’ll burn up the oils before they get to your eyes.”

  She could feel her face flushing, along with other parts of her body. She didn’t dare turn around. “Thanks,” she managed.

  “You’re welcome.” His voice was low, and he made no effort to move.

  “Okay, then,” she forced. “I’ve got it.” Quit with all the magical touching.

  “You sure?” He slid his hand to her waist.

  “Yes!” She pushed her elbow back, fighting for space and sanity.

  He stepped back and chuckled. “Anything you want.”

  Despite his absence, it took a while for her to get her bearings. Finally, when she was calm enough to use the knife without maiming herself, she went back to the onion. The flame did help. When she finished, she set the bowls of cut-up vegetables—or whatever they were considered—between Wes and Trey, feeling just a little satisfied with her culinary contribution.

  The guys looked at the garlic and onion, then at her. Trey smiled. Wes shook his head. Okay, so each piece wasn’t a consistent shape, but so what? It was cooking, not art. She watched as Trey pushed the pieces under the skin of the duck and Wes followed with his bird.

  Disgusting.

  Speaking of which, she washed her smelly hands. It didn’t do much good; they still reeked of garlic.

  Trey must have seen her wince, because he walked over and reached under the sink. He brought up a piece of stainless steel that looked like a bar of soap. “Try this.”

  “What does that do?”

  “Use it on your fingertips.” He covered her hands with his and rubbed her tips over the bar. He continued to wash her when she could have easily done so herself. His long fingers slid between hers, the smooth gliding sensation causing her to shiver. When he finished, he dried her hands, and she didn’t fight it. His touch was too delicious to leave. He pulled her fingers up to his face, so close that his lips almost touched them. “Perfect.”

  His breath kissed her flesh and stirred her pulse. And she wasn’t alone. Sue knew men well enough to know that the look in his eyes had nothing to do with the elimination of garlic oil. “See.” He moved their hands to her face, and in doing so, brought his fingers against her lips. Damnation, if she didn’t want to kiss them, taste them. Get a grip.

  She looked over at Wes who was busy mauling the third duck. Thank God, he hadn’t witnessed the seduction of his mom. She yanked her hands down, breaking Trey’s hold. “Okay . . . so, if you don’t need me, I’m going to talk to Mimi.”

  “We’re good.” Trey’s eyes still had a fire in them. She knew he wasn’t talking about kitchen help. She hightailed it out of the kitchen as fast as she could without looking like a frightened girl. It wasn’t until she was in the hallway that she realized she’d walked away from Wes. How could she be so stupid? Trey Harrison.

  So how was this going to work? Trey seemed to have the biggest influence on rebuilding her and Wes
’s relationship, but his presence threw her all out of sorts. Why was she having such a physical pull toward the man? He was gorgeous for sure. Sexy? God yes. But their history should’ve nullified any attraction.

  She’d hated the man for seventeen years. But now, after four weeks, they had developed something . . . an alliance, friendship, hell, she didn’t know what to call it. There was no doubt lust was involved. His touch had her hot and flustered, and he sure hadn’t suffered from cold water syndrome when he’d kissed her by the creek. Just the sensation of his arousal had her craving more, much more. It’d been so long.

  Hello? Her body was simply experiencing a natural, physical reaction. Hell, she hadn’t been on a date in forever, and the ones she could remember ended with a peck on the cheek. No wonder she was trigger happy. An easy enough fix. In fact, Richard Tyler, a friend of Jack and Kate’s, had been asking her out for weeks, but she’d been too occupied with Wes and Trey. It was time to accept. In the meantime, she’d just keep a safe distance from Trey.

  She wandered into Mimi’s room and found her folding laundry. She saw some of Wes’s shorts, and a pang pierced her heart. Her boy’s clothes shouldn’t be in Mimi’s laundry. She stepped up and grabbed one of Wes’s shirts. They worked quietly before Mimi broke the silence. “Have you talked to your mother?”

  “No, and I don’t intend to, as I’ve told you the last seven times you asked. And as I’ve told you each of those times, I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Fine. So, what’s got you in such a weird mood?”

  Sue gave a sarcastic laugh but didn’t look up. She focused on straightening the material of Wes’s ratty UT shirt. “I’m folding my son’s clothes at another person’s house. Do you have to ask?”

  “That’s it?” Mimi’s tone made it clear she thought there was more.

  Sue’s curiosity got the best of her. “What do you mean ‘that’s it?’ That’s a big it.”

  Mimi placed the folded denim on a stack of others. “I walked by the kitchen when I was switching out the laundry. Looked like things were getting pretty cozy in there.”

  Blood rushed to her face. She didn’t dare look at Mimi, but she did her best to feign calm and collected. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Uh huh.” Mimi laughed. “I never thought I’d meet the man who could make you so jumpy.”

  Jumpy. Horny. Frustrated. They all worked, but she wasn’t about to discuss this with her aunt. Time to change gears to something much more positive. “I’m staying for dinner.”

  Mimi raised her brows.

  “No, it wasn’t Wes’s idea. Trey invited me. But Wes didn’t object. I figure that’s a good sign.”

  “Baby, that’s a great sign.” Her beaming smile lit up the hope in Sue’s heart.

  “It is, isn’t it?” With a renewed spirit, she started matching socks. “You know, Mimi, you could make things move a lot faster if you cancelled your cable and internet.”

  Mimi winked at her. “That’s my girl.”

  * * *

  Dinner hadn’t been easy, but better than she’d expected. Trey had taken over as host, leading a conversation that actually had Wes speaking to her. There’d even been a few instances in which all four had laughed, and when she’d locked eyes with Wes, he hadn’t dropped his smile.

  Afterwards, she had insisted on doing the dishes. Definitely not her favorite pastime, but it kept her in the house. After all the progress they’d made, she wasn’t ready to go home alone. Of course, it wasn’t until she walked into the kitchen that she realized how many pots and pans were involved in real cooking. Was she the only one who recognized the brilliance of takeout?

  Having loaded the dishwasher to capacity, she still faced a mountain of hand-washing. But hearing Wes’s voice in the other room, she relished the task. She filled one side of the sink with soapy water and put on a pair of Mimi’s rubber gloves, hoping to protect her manicure. She’d gone with only a buff this time, her nerves still too frazzled to guarantee she could keep from chipping off a polish.

  “I’ll dry,” Trey said, walking up beside her.

  Not a good idea. “Thanks, but I’ve got it.”

  “Least I can do. I made the mess.” He inspected the pot she’d just finished and handed it back to her. “You missed a spot.”

  “Careful, your surgeon’s showing.” She cleaned the pot again, keeping to her side of the sink. They worked in silence, setting a steady rhythm once she accepted his meticulous concept of clean. After a while, she relaxed. “Thanks for tonight. Inviting me to dinner, keeping the conversation going. Did you notice? My son actually smiled at me.”

  “I noticed. Anyone would’ve noticed with the way your face beamed.”

  She glanced over to find him grinning. “This is as clean as it’s going to get,” she said, handing him a casserole dish that Mimi had had as long as she could remember.

  He tolerated her call and dried the stained Pyrex. She turned her attention to a crusty roasting pan that would keep her busy for three hours. Careful what you wish for. “Did you really need to use so many dishes?”

  “Wes was the one that insisted on three ducks,” he said, setting down the towel, no doubt enjoying his break.

  Note to self, always do the drying. She continued to scour the pan, slipping a few choice words.

  “I told him two would be enough, considering Mimi’s dislike of duck.”

  “Yeah. I thought she hated duck. Why would he want—?” She ceased scrubbing and turned to him and his knowing smile.

  “He wanted you to stay for dinner.”

  She wrapped her arms around him, unable to contain her joy. Soapy bubbles dripped down her arms and over his shirt, but she didn’t care, and he didn’t seem to mind either, considering he returned the hug.

  “It really was his idea?” She searched his face, resting her hands on his shoulders. Trey grinned, gently squeezing her waist. “This is a great, right?”

  “For a teenaged boy, this is about as significant as a Middle East peace accord.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. Wes had wanted her to stay. It wasn’t just a begrudging tolerance on his part. “He’s going to forgive me.”

  “Of course he is. Haven’t you been listening to me and Mimi?”

  “I’ve listened, but you all don’t know Wes like I do. He’s never been so angry with me.” She looked down and shook her head. “I just can’t believe it.” Gazing up into his eyes, she knew her face was glowing. “He’s really going to forgive me!”

  “Shhh,” he whispered, looking over his shoulder. “Don’t make a big deal. Let him take it at his own pace.”

  “I’m not stupid, Trey.” But she had to fight every impulse in her body to stay in the kitchen. She turned back to the sink, but Trey’s hands were still on her waist. As she moved, they stroked her back and stomach. The charge of his touch made her shiver.

  “Still ticklish, huh?”

  “Yeah,” she barely whispered. She could feel his eyes on her, but she didn’t dare look. Instead, she put her efforts into attacking the pan and her heart-racing emotions. “Go get the cups off the table.”

  “Aye, aye, boss.”

  She didn’t have it in her to respond. It was only with some distance that she could catch her breath. Turning back to the baked-on grease, she focused on Wes. Scrubbing a pan had never felt better.

  * * *

  They worked in silence. Trey studied Sue, but she was zeroed in on her task. Damn, he wished he could read her mind. There was no denying she’d felt the chemistry between them. He’d seen it in her eyes, felt it in her touch. But once again, she’d shut him down.

  Why was she determined to fight it? Did she still hate him? He’d hoped she’d moved past that. Over the past two weeks, they’d talked every day—mostly about Wes, granted—but there’d definitely been a change. She’d even vented about her mother. Were they friends now? Maybe. They’d become partners helping Wes, but did she consider this a temporary arrangemen
t, having no desire to continue their relationship once Wes returned home?

  It was hard to read her. When it came to Wes, she was an open book. She wouldn’t hide her love and concern for her son. He wondered if he was as obvious.

  He loved Wes. Some might argue it impossible, having only known the boy for four weeks, but he knew what he felt. How his chest swelled when he saw his son. The rush he felt when Wes invited him over. And then there was the pain, the physical pain he experienced watching Wes struggle with his anger toward his mother.

  He couldn’t expect Wes to feel anything but tolerance for him. Hell, he didn’t deserve that, but he’d be there for his boy in any capacity Wes wanted.

  A memory of his own father came to mind. In the man’s last days of battling cancer, they’d spent hours talking, making amends. One of the last things he’d told Trey was that he’d made many mistakes, but he’d done what he thought was best for his son. Trey had wondered if his father was referring to Wes. His dad would’ve been proud of Wes. If he could’ve . . . Trey shook off the thought. His wish list of do-overs was already too long. Focus on the here and now. With that resolve, he knew it was time to share his plan with Sue. He made sure no knives were lying around. She’d fight him like a wildcat, but he was determined to make it happen.

  “I want to take Wes to Tahoe over spring break.”

  She stopped washing and turned to him. Sure enough, her glare spoke, “Like hell,” but before she could use her sharp tongue, he continued.

  “It’s a great time for skiing . . . and he can meet Patty.” With the mention of his sister’s name, Sue’s face crumpled, as if she’d lost Wes again. The familiar tug of guilt started in his gut, but as much as she might hate them, she needed to know his plans. “She and her husband live there now. They have two kids. I want Wes to meet them.”

  She moved back to the dishes. He waited for her to explode. He’d been around his niece and nephew enough to know that after a bad spill, there was always a moment of silence before the wailing began. But she didn’t yell, didn’t hit. Instead, she swallowed and took enough deep breaths to finish a yoga class.