by Marie Harte
“I get that.”
She smiled. “I like your mom.”
“She’s great…until you’re a single dad and all your brothers have paired up.” He swallowed a snort of derision. “I love her, but she’s a handful.”
“Tell me about it.” Her empathy eased some of the tension he’d been carrying. Grace was turning out to be all right. Maybe he and she could be friends. Heck, if all went well, and it kept his mother off his back, they could even possibly…date?
An image of Del’s snarling face, of her description of Grace as a dishwater-bland neighbor, came to mind. Not nice, yet accurate. He tamped down a sigh.
“I hope you didn’t feel like you had to invite us over,” Mike apologized. “My mom can be a little pushy.”
“Heck, it’s my pleasure, Mike.”
She patted him on the back, her hand lingering a little longer than he liked. Or was he being too sensitive again? Christ. He was acting like Cam—Mr. Feelings.
“Yeah, well, thanks for dinner.”
“No problem. Thanks for the flowers.”
His mother had picked them up and insisted he give them to Grace. Now Grace probably thought he’d gone out of his way to impress her, when he’d brought along a bottle of wine all on his own. Mike might not look sophisticated—at all—but he knew what he liked.
He ignored the memory of liking Del and concentrated on Grace. “So how long are you here for?”
“Until I get on my feet again.” Grace pulled the shells out of the oven when it beeped and set the pan on top of the stove. “I recently divorced my husband.”
“Sorry to hear that.”
“I’m not.” She snorted. “He was cheating on me with his secretary.” She flushed. “But we moved on, Noah and me. When my mother told me she was having some problems with her legs, it seemed the perfect solution to move out here to help. We won’t stay forever, but for a while until we find a place we like.” She paused. “I’m a paralegal. I’m sure I can find work here.”
“In Seattle? I’d be surprised if you can’t.”
She gave him a relieved laugh. They chatted about little boys and day care expenses. Before he knew it, they all sat at the dining table. Mike found himself eating his salad and enjoying her company. Too bad Colin had a stubborn look on his face, one that promised trouble if Mike didn’t figure out what the heck had crawled up his son’s tush and died.
“You know, Grace, I think I will have some wine after all.”
She beamed at him, and Colin’s glower darkened.
***
Colin didn’t know why they’d been forced to come over here. Noah was annoying. Only seven, a year older than Colin, and he acted like he knew everything. According to the fathead, Noah’s mom was great, his grandma amazing, and his dad could do things that even Superman couldn’t. Yeah, right. If his dad was so great, where was he? Colin would have asked, but Dad had been pretty clear about the rules. If he didn’t behave, no TV or evening treats until the weekend. And Colin had a thing about popcorn. He loved it. Could eat it all day every day. All the time. No popcorn or cartoons at night and he’d die.
So he tolerated Noah’s bragging and lame-o toy collection. No aliens or monsters in the boy’s room at all. Just Legos and paper airplane stuff and coloring junk. Bo-ring.
“I think you’re so lucky to have your family close,” Mrs. Meadows was saying to his dad. She had that funny look on her face, the one lots of ladies used when they liked him. Girls. So gross.
Ubie had called it the Look of Longing and told Colin to avoid it if girls tried using it on him. Too much Look of Longing and his dad might get snared in a kissing trap. The worst.
“Mmm. Fat worms.” Noah plunged his fork into a shell and watched the cheese ooze out of it. Along with the spaghetti sauce, the fork wound made the shell look bloodied.
That, Colin appreciated. When he did the same and laughed, his dad frowned.
“Boy, behave.”
Colin resisted the urge to stick out his tongue. Dad didn’t play around. A spanking could be harsh. Besides, Colin didn’t like when Dad got mad and yelled. It didn’t happen often, but when it did, his dad’s temper gave him a bellyache and made him cry. So after taking a bite of super-spicy food, he pushed around the mushy gunk on his plate, pleased to see his dad doing the same, and drank his soda instead. Soda—the only good part of tonight.
Mrs. Meadows gave a high-pitched laugh and put her hand on Dad’s arm. Colin wanted to smack her, but that for sure would get him in big trouble. Man. Why did they have to come here anyway? He wanted to hang out with Brian. Instead, they had to be at boring Noah’s house with his grabby mom.
“Ow.” He reached for his leg, not happy when Noah kicked him again. “Cut it out.”
Noah smirked.
“Noah?” Mrs. Meadows said.
“What?”
“Everything okay?”
“Yep.”
No. The kid is a pain and won’t stop bugging me. He opened his mouth to retort, but the look on his dad’s face had him snapping his mouth closed. He stubbornly picked through his soggy salad for the cucumbers, then finished his soda. “Can I please be excused?” he asked in the voice Ubie had taught him. The super-polite one that usually got him out of trouble.
His dad nodded.
Without being reminded, Colin took his plate to the sink.
“Why, what nice manners.” Mrs. Meadows beamed at him.
Noah, he noted, had left his plate behind and darted into his bedroom without asking to leave the table. And no one said anything.
After another slow half hour spent staring at Noah’s alarm clock, where he swore the minutes went backward a few times, his dad came to gather him to go home.
“Finally,” he muttered.
“Colin.” His dad dragged him to Mrs. Meadows. “Thanks for the meal, Grace.”
“Thanks,” Colin added when his dad squeezed his shoulder.
His dad let him go. “We’ll have to return the favor some time when my schedule eases.”
“It’s a date.” She smiled.
Colin saw red. A date? Dates led to marriage and stepparents. Brian’s mom had gotten remarried, and Brian had told him all about how new moms and dads worked. But Colin’s dad didn’t date. He never planned to get married again either. Colin had heard Dad tell that to Grandpa when he didn’t think Colin had been listening. At first, Colin had been upset. Because if Dad didn’t date, he’d never get that little brother he was wanting. Or a puppy for that matter. Dad always said they weren’t home enough for a dog.
But if Colin found his dad a new wife—to be Colin’s new mom—she could be home enough for a puppy. Maybe she could get a brother for him too. Finding a mom had proven a real challenge. Most of the ladies who gave Dad the Look of Longing were gross. They giggled and blinked a lot.
He’d had hopes for his new friends next door. They were nice. Especially Abby. She looked so much like pictures of his mom. He’d thought that might make Dad happy. But it was just weird. Maddie and Vanessa weren’t going to work, he could tell. Now Abby and Ubie were getting married. Uncle Cam had picked Vanessa, and Uncle Flynn chose Maddie. Instead of a new mom, Colin now had aunts who treated him special and gave him presents for his birthday. He liked the extra presents and the hugs.
But no more chances to snag a mom from the neighbors.
When he’d met Del, he knew. She would be his new mom. She was so awesome. She had muscles and fixed cars. Her arms were so cool. She had dragons and skulls and flowers in all sorts of colors. An earring in her eyebrow and in her nose, and she wore neat clothes. Not girly dresses, but boots and jeans.
He liked everything about her, especially the way she talked to him like he mattered. Not like a way to get to his dad. He might be little, but he knew when ladies pretended to like him so they could talk to Dad. Not Del, though. He wasn’t sure she even liked his dad, which was a worry for another day.
He knew she liked him, and she made him happy. He
didn’t even mind her being a girl. There was just something about her that excited him when she was near. Maybe because her brother looked just like his favorite wrestler ever. J.T. said funny stuff, cursed, and was just plain awesome.
“I’m tired, Dad,” Colin prodded and grabbed his dad’s hand.
“Me too, buddy. Let’s go. But thank Noah, first.”
Thanks for being a big butthead. “Thanks, Noah.”
“Sure, Colin.” Noah grinned. “Bye, Mr. McCauley.”
What a butt kisser.
“Bye, Noah. Grace.”
His dad bundled him into his jacket, grabbed his own, then tugged him by the hand out the door. They walked right past Grandma and Grandpa’s house and headed home the few blocks it took to reach their place.
“Did you have fun?”
Colin glanced up at familiar blue eyes. “No.”
His dad raised a brow. “No?”
“I don’t like Noah. He’s a dork.” Colin went for broke. “And I don’t like Mrs. Meadows either. She’s stinky.”
His dad coughed. “I think that was her perfume.”
“I didn’t like it. I didn’t like her food either. It was mushy. She’s stinky,” he said again, then added slyly, “Not like Del.”
His dad started. “How does Del smell to you?”
He knew his dad kind of liked her. Mostly. When he wasn’t yelling at her. “She smells good. Like a car or something.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. And she’s nice. She doesn’t give me fake smiles. She likes me.”
His dad frowned. “Did Mrs. Meadows give you fake smiles?”
“No.” He rushed on, “But she only wants Noah to have a friend. Besides, she wants to kiss you. I could tell.”
“Oh, er, okay. Don’t worry, son. I’m not into kissing girls—any girls. Not even your precious Del. So don’t fret that your dad’s getting a girlfriend. No way, no how.” He ruffled Colin’s hair. “Now how about we go get some burgers? I’m starved.”
“Yes.” Colin pumped a fist into the air. “You’re the best.”
“I know.”
That comment about Colin’s precious Del… Dad didn’t understand. If Del was going to be Colin’s new mom, she had to be friends with Dad first. It was time he got some advice on how to figure things out. He knew just who to talk to.
Chapter 5
Friday night poker. Mike sat with his brothers around his kitchen table. With Colin sleeping over at Brian’s, he had a night to himself. Since Del—the sexy coward—had yet to call him, he’d insisted his brothers stop succumbing to the new estrogen in their lives and show up for some brotherly bonding.
Surprised the dare had worked, he sat staring at two fours and did his best to pretend he held a full house.
“Raise you five.” Brody upped the ante.
Cam frowned. “We didn’t let you deal. No way you have anything of value in that hand.”
Brody shook his head. He’d probably been born shuffling a full deck in the womb. The card sharp could deal better than any Vegas dealer, and he was impossible to catch in a cheat.
“Cut him some slack, Cam. My boy’s been working hard today.” Flynn tossed in his chips.
“Yep. Had to unclog a sink, install a new toilet, and handle the old lady who’s always feeling up Flynn.” Brody sighed. “The things I do for my partner.”
Mike grinned. “Patty Haynes? Your octogenarian friend who shoves things down her sink so Flynn will…unclog her?”
“She’s only seventy-eight, not eighty.” Flynn scowled. “Shut it and play or fold. I’m not getting any younger.”
“Or sexier, apparently,” Cam mused. “Why do you lead that poor woman on? Haven’t you told her you’re engaged?”
“Fuck off.” Flynn included Brody in his dark glare. “And you, big mouth. Why don’t you stop gossiping?”
Brody gave his best look of wounded innocence. “What did I say?”
Mike chuckled. He’d missed this. The camaraderie, the fun, the way Flynn told Brody to fuck off with his trademark sneer.
“You’re in a good mood.” Brody called and laid down his cards.
They all followed suit, then watched with resignation when Brody took the pot.
“Why can’t I be in a good mood?” Mike asked and retrieved another beer for himself from the fridge. As he sat, he saw a knowing look pass between his brothers. “What?”
“So what did you think of Grace Meadows?” Cam asked.
“She was okay.”
Brody smirked. “Not what I hear.”
“Oh?”
“A little bird told me her food tastes terrible, her kid’s an ass, and she’s stinky.”
“Colin.” Mike grimaced. “When did he tell you that?”
“Today when we picked him up from school,” Flynn answered for Brody. “Mom was busy, so we volunteered. He got a kick riding in the truck.” The company truck of McSons Plumbing.
“Great. So what else did the little punk have to say?”
“Not much.” Flynn looked way too enthused about the nothing he’d heard.
Cam leaned back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. Wearing dress slacks and a button-down shirt, he looked like a square peg in a room full of round holes. Mike glanced at Brody, Flynn, and himself—all wearing raggedy shirts and jeans.
Mr. GQ drawled, “What I want to know is why you brought flowers to a woman you’re not interested in.”
Brody and Flynn leaned closer and talked over each other. “Yeah why?” “Were they roses? Roses mean romance.”
“Colin told you I brought her flowers too?” His boy had a big mouth. Time they had another talk about keeping information in-house. Between his kid and his mother, he had no secrets.
“Answer the question,” Flynn ordered.
Mike glared. “I don’t have to tell you idiots squat. But for the record, Mom bought those stupid flowers. I brought a nice wine, one of your leftovers, Cam.”
“Well, at least we know it was of good quality.”
Flynn snickered.
Mike took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “My point is I went over to be nice to Mom’s new neighbor. Wasn’t my idea to invite myself, trust me.”
“Oh, Bitsy still trying to set you up?” Brody asked.
“Yeah. Woman shows no sign of slowing down.” Which totally sucked and wouldn’t have been an issue if Lea had been here.
Damn. She kept popping into his memory lately. A melancholy settled over him, an image of his late wife’s smiling eyes while she caressed her rounded belly, when she’d been pregnant with Colin, hitting him hard. In just a few days Lea would have turned thirty-four. He’d have to find some lilies to take to her grave…
“Yo, Mike?” Flynn snapped his fingers in front of Mike’s face. “You okay?”
“Fine.” He cleared his throat and took another swallow of beer, ignoring the concern he could feel from them. He tamped down the ragged wounds of Lea’s passing. The way he always did when the memories swarmed. “Look. I have no interest whatsoever in Grace Meadows. She was nice. I did a favor for Mom, and that’s it. Now if you’re done playing twenty questions, I’d like to—”
“If it’s not Grace that has your panties in a bunch, is it Del?” Brody asked.
Funny, Mike had thought the guy had more sense. He clenched his fist on the table. “What?”
“You know,” Flynn said. “The tall, smokin’ hot blond with those amazing tattoos? She has a way of staring right through you. Kind of sexy if you like women who can kick your ass.”
“Which you obviously do,” Cam added. “You pretend you don’t, but then you watch her like a thirsting man in the desert.”
“Oh, nice imagery, Cam.” Brody clinked his Coke against Cam’s bottle.
“Thanks.”
“What is wrong with you people?” Mike snarled. They had to bring up Del. Just when he’d finally shoved thoughts of her to the back of his mind.
“So how did the rescue go?�
�� Flynn pushed. “You know, when she took you away from Abby’s party? What did you do?”
“Her?” Brody added with raised brows. “’Cause I’m thinking no way you had a home run that fast. Maybe you slid into second. But you’re not a stealthy guy. You’d try aiming out of the ballpark, and with Del you need a little finesse. Third base, max.”
“If I understood even half of that, I’d probably pound you.” Mike rubbed his temples. “Del and I went out for a beer and some food. That’s it. She took me home.”
“Oh come on.” Cam frowned. “Even Flynn isn’t buying that one.”
“Hey.”
“To avoid any confusion,” Mike spoke slowly, flexing his fingers, and pleased his brothers showed some sense by shutting the hell up, “Del and I had a nice time. I’m not interested in Grace Meadows or Mom’s attempts at lame hookups. And the next fucker who mentions me and any woman in the same sentence again is getting a fist in the gut, then the face. Repeatedly. Understand?”
Three violent nods, then the game continued around a much tamer conversation about the Mariners’ chances against the A’s next week. Brody and Flynn picked at each other about their fiancées, and Cam continued to pepper Mike about kid stuff.
“Cam, it’s not that hard. You’ve been around Colin since his diaper days. Relax. You have another, what? Seven or eight months to get used to the idea?”
Cam flushed. “I know. It’s just…she’ll be my child. It’s different.”
“She?” Brody asked. “You can’t know the sex already.”
“Vanessa thinks it will be a girl.”
Flynn nodded. “Ah. Of course. And since Vanessa is never wrong, you’re having a girl. Better keep a leash on your daughter. If she’s anything like her mother, you’ll have your hands full.”
Cam laughed. “No kidding.”
Mike slapped him on the shoulder. “You’ll do fine. But for God’s sake, let the kid live a little. They say if you want them to have a great immune system, they need to be around dirt when they’re little.”
“What does that have to do with you?” Flynn snorted. “I swear, a guy spills one chip in this house, and you throw a hissy. Talk about OCD cleanliness.”