by C. J. Lake
“You know, I tried to make him happy, Cady. But the thing about Tony is that you never truly know when he's happy, because he’s a salesman. Never marry a guy in sales,” she added with a kind of earned bitterness. “They lie for a living.”
All Cady could come up with was an insipid, “Gee, I'm sorry about that.”
Linda continued, “I wish I could say 'at least he was a great father,' but he was really a very average father to Mick. Fortunately, Mick has always been closer to my brother, Rob—he lives in Waltham with his wife and kids—now there is a great man. Married for over twenty years, coach of his son's baseball team, just a loving, devoted dad. With Tony traveling so much, Rob ended up being more of a role model for Mick, which is just as well.”
Linda dabbed her mouth with her napkin and set it down, still appearing pensive. “It's crazy, Cady. You think you will be young forever. Even though you know you won't—deep down you still think you will. And then one day...everything is different.” She tsked and shook her head, appearing resigned to that fact.
After that, they both fell quiet for a moment. Cady wasn't sure what to say. Even though Linda's sentiments weren't something she could relate to, they seemed to be 100 percent genuine. Finally, Cady spoke, trying to nudge the conversation onto a more upbeat path. “Well, it sounds like my dad is very different from your ex-husband.”
At that, Linda's face brightened. “Oh, complete opposites!” she said, her smile coming back. “I feel like this is a gift. You know, when I talk, Brandall actually listens to me. Imagine that!” she laughed.
“What do you two do for fun?” Cady asked curiously.
“Try restaurants, stream movies—actually, we just watched an interesting one last night about time travel.”
The next spoon of yogurt never made it to Cady’s mouth. She was too startled by what Linda had just said, and even sat there agape for a second or two. “Did you just say time travel?” she asked slowly.
“Yes. I love sci-fi. It's one of the things your dad and I have in common. Especially time travel,” she remarked with a fun-loving laugh. “For some reason, I’ve always been obsessed with time travel!”
Cady wished she could share in Linda’s enthusiasm at the moment, but all she could was look blankly at this woman, as Hortense’s warning words resurfaced. Cady recalled the conversation she'd had with her mother—the ridiculous one about Project Reverse Moonglow and Brandall's old research. It was ridiculous...wasn't it?
Mentally, she shook herself.
For pete’s sake, this was absurd. Lots of people liked movies about time travel; it was hardly a red flag. Her mom was just getting in her head now. (Not hard to do, since Hortense already had a time-share there.)
Soon after, they left the food court and called it a day on the shopping.
About twenty minutes later, they were driving away from Copley and in the direction of Linda's townhouse, when suddenly, Cady's car sputtered and shook. Cady felt herself tip off-balance as the she struggled with the steering wheel.
“Oh, no...” she groaned, veering onto a side street, bringing the car to a sliding stop along the side of the road.
Her fear was confirmed a few minutes later, when she and Linda were both standing beside the car, looking down at a flat rear tire.
At the same time, the wind picked up—riotously tousling the trees, which hadn't yet shed their leaves. With the wind blowing through them, the chill of that November afternoon turned almost frigid. There was no use standing there shivering, in denial, so Cady urged Linda to go back in the car for warmth.
“I don't have a roadside service plan, so I'll just look for a number to call,” Cady mentioned, turning toward the driver's side door. “My phone's in here—”
“No, I think I have a better idea,” Linda said, reaching in her bag, which was slung over her shoulder, and pulling out her cell. “I'll just call Mick.”
Chapter Twenty
Cady whipped her head around at that.
Such a casual turn-of-phrase, no biggie, just call Mick. Panicked, Cady watched Linda bring her cell to her ear. “Wait!” she yelped. “Um...”
“It'll be easier and faster than calling random garages,” Linda explained offhandedly.
Though Cady wanted to refute the idea, she struggled to reason differently. All she could come up with was: “I don't want to bother him—”
“Oh, don't be silly,” Linda assured her. “Listen, never be afraid to ask Mick for help. He'll be your brother soon.”
Inwardly, Cady cringed.
“Hi! Are you home right now?” Linda said into her phone. “Cady and I got stranded on Holly Street, not too far from your apartment.” Oh, God, she's really calling Mick, Cady thought, instantly feeling the effects—anticipation had her pulse skating faster and her belly beginning to flutter. “Yes, Cady's here with me,” Linda was saying. “Oh, I'll ask her. Sweetheart, do you have a spare?”
“I—uh, yes,” Cady managed. She had to assume Linda added the “sweetheart” part, and not that she was repeating Mick's question verbatim.
As Linda said, “Great, thanks, see you soon,” Cady willed her nerves to relax. She told herself: Face it, this is happening. Obviously she would only make it weird if she tried to stop Mick from coming.
Up to now, the best defense she had against her crush on Mick Croft was avoidance. If he showed up now, then what? He'd be right in front of her. Worse than that, he'd probably be all helpful and capable, which would only make her crush stronger.
Unless...
Maybe he would be a jerk about this. Maybe he'd show up and lay into her about not knowing how to change a tire in today's modern world (okay, really couldn't picture Mick saying something like that, but hey, maybe...). And maybe he would even roll his eyes at her ignorance, or charge her money for his help.
Or...
Maybe he would do none of those things. She should have known that, instead, Mick would show up fifteen minutes later, looking more handsome than Cady had remembered him to be.
As she watched him arrive, park his car and step out, she had to catch her breath. His dark hair looked wet, making it appear pitch-black; it was slightly messy, as if combed hastily or not at all, but his face was cleanly shaven. “Hey, Mom,” he said in that gruff voice that Cady already recognized too well, one that stirred things in her.
“Oh, thank God you were around when I called!” Linda exclaimed. Her attention was immediately diverted by maternal concern. “Oh, Mick, your hair’s wet. It’s cold out here! You're going to get sick.”
“Nah, it's fine,” he said, casually brushing off her fussing. Then he explained, “I was just getting out of the shower when you called.”
Great, Cady thought grimly. Now she was picturing that. The image of Mick dripping wet and naked, stepping out of the shower, certainly did nothing to calm her pulse or to help her forget how attracted she was to him.
“Hey, Cady,” he said, giving her a nod.
She cleared her throat. “Hi, Mick...thanks for coming.”
“Sure.”
“Nice car,” she blurted, motioning toward the silver Audi he'd been driving.
“It's my roommate's,” Mick replied simply, as he approached the rear of Cady's car. Reflexively, she took a few steps back, out of his way. After she stood uselessly by the driver's side door for a moment or two, Mick knocked lightly on her trunk and raised his brow at her. “Spare?”
“Oh, right, duh,” she fumbled, realizing he'd been waiting on her. Hastily she reached inside her car to grab her key chain, which was still hanging from the ignition. Mick stepped closer, extending his hand. “Here,” she said. Mick's fingers grazed her palm as he took the key chain. She tried to act unaffected by his touch, but nevertheless she noticed that his hands were warm despite the cold weather.
If Mick felt the spark between them, he didn't show it. He simply returned to her trunk and popped it open.
Get it together, she warned herself. Why did she always act like such a
moron when Mick was around? So she was attracted to him, big deal! If their parents were going to be together, she would just have to find a way to get used to it—or, to get over it. In the meantime, couldn't she have a better poker-face?
Now Cady stayed back, next to the driver's side door, and watched as Mick retrieved her spare, along with a variety of tools, from her trunk. Linda's phone began to ring. “Oh, it's your father,” she said, snapping up her cell. “I'll be right back.” Soon she'd ambled several yards down the sidewalk to talk to Brandall.
With Linda out of earshot, Cady and Mick were basically alone. Trying not to appear self-conscious, Cady stayed put and roved her eyes all around—observing a scatter of crispy leaves blowing off the slim trees that lined the street, focusing on the sharp sparkle of sun against the glass of the car windows—when she heard the rough timbre of Mick's voice. “C'mere.”
Her eyes snapped up. Mick was still several feet away, positioned by the rear tire, and he was looking at her. Her lips suddenly felt dry, as her stomach tightened even more. “What...?”
“C'mere,” he repeated. There was something so enticing and inviting in those two syllables, spilling from his lips. It just sounded sexy.
“Why? Do you need help?” she said, figuring sarcasm was her best way to seem unaffected and in control.
Mick snorted a laugh. “No. Come over here so I can show you how to do this—in case you're ever in this situation again.” Reluctantly, Cady came closer to him. “Lower,” he said.
Lower... The word, spoken by Mick's rough voice, put dirty thoughts in her mind. Acting neutral, Cady knelt down. Now they were almost on eye-level.
“You're still going to need a new tire,” he explained. “The spare's a short-term solution.”
“Oh, I know,” Cady told him, averting her eyes slightly, while her pulse raced. Up this close it was impossible not to feel the pull of her attraction to him.
“The first thing you need to do is put the jack under the car,” Mick began, demonstrating as he spoke. “Then you use this crank,” he continued, grabbing another tool. What followed that was a stimulating tutorial on changing a tire, after which Cady had only the vaguest idea how to change a tire.
But in her defense, it was hard to focus with Mick so close to her. Normally she was a good student, but car repair was obviously not one of her better subjects. Especially when it involved a hot “instructor” who made her crazy. First she was distracted by Mick's aftershave. Then by watching his strong hands working, using a wrench to unscrew some nuts and bolts. And after lining up the spare, he easily put it in place, and, as if that wasn't hot enough, he hand-tightened the screws. Damn, who knew changing a tire could be so erotic?
A buzzing sound interrupted Cady's thoughts. When Mick pulled his phone out of his pocket and took a quick glance at the screen, so did Cady. Her adeptness for speed-reading cell phone screens upside-down didn't fail her. It only took a fleeting second for her to see the words: Incoming call from Juliana.
Cady's stomach churned. No, it wasn't logical. But it was a genuine gut reaction. Who was Juliana? Instead of answering, Mick ignored the call, stuck his phone back in his pocket, and focused again on what he was doing.
Of course Cady should have held her tongue. Was she going to advertise that she was being blatantly nosy about Mick's personal life? That would serve no purpose whatsoever and also be borderline-embarrassing. Yet, for some reason, she blurted, “Who's Juliana?”
Mick halted for a second, slanting a look at her that she couldn't quite interpret. Then, casually, he said, “Just a girl in one of my classes.”
“Oh.” Let it drop now. It's none of your effing business! “Is it the girl from the Halloween party?” she continued prying. When Mick hesitated, appearing unsure whom Cady was referring to, she clarified, “You know, the one dressed as Snow White.”
“Oh,” he said and shook his head. “No. That was Rachel.”
So...that was it? No further detail offered about Rachel or Juliana? Well that was disappointing. In fact, she couldn't help being disheartened that Mick hadn't expressed his thorough disinterest in either or both of these girls—about whom Cady knew nothing, and of whom Cady had no right to feel jealous.
As he lowered the jack back down, Mick said, “All right, you're all set here. The spare's good.”
“Okay, great. So the lesson is over?”
“Yep, that's all there is to it,” Mick said. “Are you clear on everything?”
“Um...sure.” Actually she was more muddled now than before, at least when it came to her feelings for him.
Linda appeared again. “Brandall says hello,” she announced, dropping her cell back into her bag. As she came closer, Cady and Mick stood up. “Also, he asked me to remind you about the party on Thursday, Cady. You'll be at Rex's party, won't you?”
“Yes.” Unfortunately… she thought, but kept it to herself. It wasn’t like Rex and his wife, Preeti, didn’t try to throw a good party. They did, and Preeti was a great hostess—efficient, pleasant, attentive to detail. That said, sharing an intimate evening with a handful of insect-lovers, botanists, and other people Cady had nothing in common with wasn’t exactly what she would call “hot plans.”
“Your father mentioned that they do this every year?” Linda asked, her eyes twinkling kindly.
“For the last three years,” Cady supplied. “It's sort of a holiday for them.”
As Mick set the tools back in Cady's trunk, he asked curiously, “What's the holiday?”
“Well, see, the first week of November is the start of mating season for the Fluorescent Cave Spider. That’s their favorite arachnid.” She couldn't resist adding, “I'm sure it was hard to choose.”
At that, Mick cracked a grin. “Okay, you’re shitting me now.”
“Mick, please—your language!” Linda scolded mildly, then offered Cady an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”
Please, Cady wanted to say, your son's cursing is the least of what unnerves me about him. “Actually I was being serious,” Cady told him, though she was unable to suppress her sardonic tone completely. “See, Rex's wife is an entomology professor. They met a few years ago when Preeti was presenting her master's thesis on that spider at the ISGAA.” Mick lifted his brows, clearly waiting for her to break that down. “That's the International Symposium for Global Arachnid Affairs.”
Amused, Mick said, “Yeah, I've always heard that's a great place to meet chicks.”
A smile broke across Cady's lips, and she and Mick shared a moment—a sense of mutual awareness—before Cady played it off with a flippant shrug. “I guess they credit the Fluorescent Cave Spider with their romance, so they throw this party each year. Kind of their twist on an anniversary party. It's mostly just colleagues and a few family members who feel extremely obligated—but enough about me,” she joked.
As Mick chuckled, Linda piped in, “Well it sounds wonderful. Doesn't it, Mick?”
“Uh, which part?” he said.
“All of it,” Linda insisted, practically gritting out the words. She was clearly getting frustrated trying to contrive a mutual enthusiasm for the Killoren clan—to sell the notion that she and Mick were joining the family as some happy packaged-deal. “You'll come too, right?”
Hesitating for a second, Mick ran a hand over his jaw and said, “I don't know, Mom, sorry.”
Clearly disappointed, Linda asked, “Why not?”
“I might have some other things going on, that's all.”
“Like what? Do you have a date or something?”
Mick's response was as vague as his shrug. “I don't know if I'd call it a date, per se,” he said.
Cady's stomach knotted up at that. The names “Rachel” and “Juliana” trotted through her mind. She frowned at the ideas their named conjured, and by her irrational jealousy.
“Don't worry if you can't come,” Cady butted in. “You shouldn't change your plans or anything. Really,” she finished, basically insisting. She was overcompensating
now. Trying too hard to show Mick that she was absolutely fine with, and not bothered at all about whatever his “not a date, per se” plans entailed.
“I might go,” Mick offered. Though his voice was noncommittal, his gaze was locked on Cady's now. His words were definitely for her benefit, not his mother's. Her heart sped up a little as heat rose to her face and she had trouble breaking the eye contact.
Begrudgingly, Linda said, “Well, okay, but I really hope you will. So you can get to know Rex better.”
Anticipating the next line, Cady nearly winced. Please don't say because he'll be your brother soon, her mind begged. She could not take hearing that right now. Instead, Linda said something even worse:
“You can bring your date along.”
Chapter Twenty-one
A few days later, after Mick had returned home from the gym, he was passing through the living room of his apartment, when his roommate, Terrence, called to him. “Croft, hold up.”
“Hey. What's up?” Mick said.
“What are you up to later?”
Mick paused, considering the question—because it was not the first time he'd considered that question today. Rex Killoren's party was tonight. The one Rex and his wife apparently threw every year, the one that Mick's mom was so eager for him to attend. Mick probably would. At least he'd make an appearance. Or maybe not. Though he still hadn't committed to it one way or another, the whole thing seemed to be hanging over him. “Not sure,” was all he told Terrence now. “Why?”
“We're doing a bar crawl tonight,” Terrence explained. “Probably ending with that new bar that just opened, you know, Polar?”
“Oh, right,” Mick said, nodding.
“You in? Quinn's texting people now.”
“Uh...” Going out drinking with his friends, or trekking all the way out to the suburbs for some lame “family” event with his mom's new boyfriend? (Mick still couldn't manage to think of Brandall Killoren as Linda's “fiancé.”) The choice seemed clear.