How to Handle a Heartbreaker

by Marie Harte

  “Huh?”

  “Shouldn’t you be with your brothers?”

  Normally, Brody spent his Friday evenings playing cards at Mike’s. But Cameron, the youngest McCauley, was out of town. And no way was Flynn’s girlfriend taking his place. If you didn’t have a Y chromosome, you didn’t rate an invite to poker night. Three guys wouldn’t cut it… Then again, Colin was almost six. The kid could palm a card and knew how to stack a deck, thanks to Brody’s clever teaching.

  “You know, you make a good point.” Brody quickly double-checked the thermostat and the plumbing in the downstairs bathroom. All good. Seth wouldn’t freeze to death. “You got food?”

  “You are one nosy neighbor,” Seth half frowned, trying unsuccessfully to hide a grin. “Yeah, yeah, I have food. Damn, son. I’m supposed to feed you now too? Invite yourself over for dinner, why don’t you?”

  Brody ignored him, as he normally did. He and the old man had an unspoken agreement. They liked the hell out of each other but refused to admit it. Before Brody had bought his half of the large building from Seth, he’d been the ideal tenant. Nothing had changed since he’d purchased the place. He still fixed both sides of the house, and Seth continued to treat Brody like an unwelcome relation. That, and the guy was always giving him stuff. Ancient record albums, figurines, things Brody didn’t feel right taking—the old man’s treasures. Brody had protested that he’d fix the house for free, but Seth wouldn’t hear it. Proud old bastard. He totally reminded Brody of a crotchety James McCauley.

  “And you know, it wouldn’t hurt you to get a love life. Ain’t seen a woman around in a while. You gone gay, boy?”

  Brody blinked. “Ah, no. Not yet.”

  Seth shrugged. “Boy or girl, at least you wouldn’t be moping around on a Friday night.”

  “Who’s moping? I’m relaxing after a hard day’s work.”

  Seth raised a brow.

  “We had to fix a leak then relocate a water line in a new construction complex in Tacoma. And the traffic was nuts.”

  “Always is.”

  Brody nodded. “Okay then.”

  “Okay.” Seth just stared at him.

  Feeling foolish, Brody glared, warned the crankpot not to screw with the dog by pounding on the walls, and left. He returned to his bedroom and thought about just staying in for the night, but he wanted some company.

  Being around Abby frazzled him. Brody had been scoring with girls since the seventh grade when he’d grown out of his awkward stage and into his voice. Maturing early had its perks, and girls noticing him was a win-win, any way he looked at it. Hanging with the tough McCauleys had helped too. No one screwed with Mike’s younger brothers. Though Brody’s blond hair and obviously different last name said otherwise, the McCauleys had always treated him like a sibling. One that annoyed Mike, bossed Cam, and got into mischief with Flynn on a daily basis.

  But now that Flynn had Maddie, it kind of left Brody at loose ends. Then there was that fascination with Abby that wouldn’t quit.

  “I am so screwed.” He sighed. He wanted Abby like crazy. But there seemed to be no end to the obstacles standing in his way.

  As he undressed and then scraped away the fur from the tub the dog had just used, he considered his myriad problems. Brody turned on the shower and waited with bated breath. After a minute or two, he stepped under the spray of hot water. No problem with the water heater tonight, thank God.

  He watched rivulets of water race down the tile, just as fast as Abby ran from him time and time again. Granted, he hadn’t exactly made his intentions clear. He flirted, leered, and teased. But he hadn’t asked her out yet. Because she’d deny him.

  And there was that weird resemblance she had to Lea, Mike’s dead wife.

  Brody groaned. How to make a move on the woman he couldn’t get out of his mind without offending Mike? And if he did get a date, how not to mess things up with Abby so badly that he wrecked Flynn’s relationship with Maddie? Because Maddie and Abby were tight, and Flynn had no intention of dropping his new squeeze. It was like geometry all over again. The transcendental proof, cause and effect—and now he had a massive headache.

  Nothing a good beer and a beat-down over Mike couldn’t cure. He just had to make sure he partnered with Colin, because lately Flynn was next to useless in a game. His head in the clouds, dreaming about Maddie. But the kid had potential.

  Brody finished washing himself and continued to think of a way around Abby’s wariness. Charm and flirting hadn’t worked. The dog obviously wasn’t getting him closer. So how to work an angle under her shields and into her pants, but far enough away from her heart so that when they ended, she and his brothers wouldn’t be gunning for him?

  ***

  Abby stared longingly at the wet windowpane, wishing she could rzewind the clock.

  “Missing your honey man?” Vanessa drawled. “Why don’t you just put the guy out of his misery and sleep with him?”

  “As much as I appreciate your honesty—”

  Vanessa snorted.

  “—I don’t need comments from the peanut gallery. I’m not missing anyone.”

  “Uh-huh. That’s why you keep looking at Mike’s house through the window.”

  Abby turned to glare at her roommate. Vanessa was Maddie’s cousin, yet the two couldn’t have been more different. Maddie had a vibrant joy, dramatic flair, and warm beauty. She glowed with her love for Flynn. Abby’s creative mind likened Vanessa more to an icy Valkyrie. A warrior in business, logical, and eminently better suited to dealing with stress, Vanessa never panicked or didn’t know what to do. She was like perfection on two long legs that ended in a gorgeous brain that never quit. Currently single due to her own desire for solitude, not because men didn’t want her.

  Abby should have hated her for that alone. So much confidence, and the woman deserved every bit of it. Yet she remained loyal to friends and family. And as much as Abby sometimes wished Vanessa would ease up, the woman regarded her as part of her family unit.

  After drawing in a deep breath, Abby let it out and explained to Vanessa, once again, what the neighbor really meant to her. “I write, Vanessa. You know this. You also know I use the guys next door as reference material.”

  “Blah blah blah. Yeah. You want to make your male characters real, so you eavesdrop on the guys talking smack over cards on Fridays. I know. But that doesn’t explain why you’re always looking at Brody’s ass. Mind you, it’s a fine ass. But your interest seems much more prurient than scholarly.”

  Vanessa’s blue eyes sparkled, her joy in the verbal battle clear.

  Catching the spirit, Abby shot back, “Well, at least I have plans for the weekend.”

  Vanessa raised a blond brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “So do I.”

  Abby looked her over. From Vanessa’s size eleven running shoes to the running shorts and T-shirt sporting a Go Vegan or Go Home slogan. “Some Friday. You’re going to drive to the gym to work out after putting in a full day.” Abby huffed. “At least I have a good excuse for no social prospects. My deadline is looming.”

  “True.” Vanessa shrugged. “But I use exercise to relieve stress. You say you want to listen to the guys for research, but in this weather, you can’t hear a blasted thing anyone is saying with their windows closed. So I ask again, why are you staring at Mike’s house? I’ll tell you why. Because you and that blond doofus can’t get enough of each other.”

  “He is that,” Abby agreed. A great big galoot who’d rescued a monstrous stray dog from euthanasia at the pound, who taught his nephew how to cheat at cards and cry on command, and who’d been protective of his best friend when Flynn and Maddie had been on the rocks a month ago. Then what else Vanessa said penetrated. “Wait. What?” Get enough of each other?

  “It’s so obvious. Just sleep with him. Get it out of your system. Then use it to write those smut scenes you�
��re always going on about in your books. And presto. Deadline problem solved.”

  The familiar argument made her see red. “Smut? I write erotic romance. Not porn. Not smut. Not raunchy—”

  “Right. Raunchy.” Vanessa snapped her fingers. “That’s the word I wanted when I was telling Francie about your book the other day.”

  More comfortable arguing about her profession than about the crazy feelings for Brody she had no business even thinking about, Abby lit into her roommate with gusto. It took everything inside her not to follow the flashing headlights when a truck pulled into Mike’s drive.

  Chapter 2

  Brody stared at his cards, glanced at Colin, who had an eye on his father’s hand, then folded at a subtle headshake from the boy.

  Mike grinned as he won the meager five-dollar pot.

  Next to him, Flynn muttered at his cards and slapped them down. “How are you winning? You suck at poker.”

  “I do not,” Mike sounded affronted. He possessed the arrogant chin, stubborn nose, and bright blue eyes most of the McCauleys had. Only Flynn had green eyes, like his mother. Brody considered himself the blond beauty of the bunch and never hesitated to share his high opinion of his superior looks with the others.

  “You do suck, Dad. But I still love you.”

  “Don’t say suck,” Mike corrected his son.

  As Colin smiled back at his father, the nearly six-year-old palmed three cards under the table and turned them up for Brody to see. A glance showed two twos and an ace.

  Brody smothered a smirk. But as he turned he saw Flynn’s eyes narrow. Their gazes met, and Brody warned him without speaking not to say a thing. Their years together enabled them to often communicate with a look, and Flynn rolled his eyes and sighed but said nothing.

  Good man.

  “Let’s play again, kid.” Mike grinned at Colin. “This time, if I win, I get a free week of chores from you. You win, you get ten bucks and an extra hour before bed tomorrow night.”

  “All right.” Colin held out a hand. “Shake.”

  While his father shook his hand, the kid slid another card off the table into his lap. Mike again didn’t catch it, though Flynn chuckled under his breath.

  Brody puffed up with pride. He’d taught the boy that move just a few months ago. Colin had real talent that Brody could see. Sure, Abby claimed Brody was setting the kid up for a stint in juvie, but what did she know? Knowing how to cheat meant you could spot a cheat. And Brody had grown up knowing who to trust and who not to, thanks to the nightmare he could claim as his biological family.

  Quickly shaking free of the thought, he dealt the cards and played two rounds, then watched Colin scam Mike and Flynn into upping their bets. Brody remained in, and while Colin leaned over, he took the kid’s high cards, the ones Colin had intentionally left on his lap for Brody to take. Not just one, but two aces. Nice. Considering he held one of his own, as well as two kings, he decided to win the pot.

  “Tell you what. Let’s make this super interesting,” he said to the table and winked at Colin.

  Mike scowled. “Now what? Whenever you say ‘interesting,’ that usually means trouble.”

  “If Flynn or I win, you still honor Colin as winner. We lose, we’ll do his chores for the week with him.”

  Flynn frowned. “What’s all this we nonsense? I can’t dirty my hands with chores. My woman likes me pretty.”

  Colin gagged. “Girls are so gross.” He blinked up at Flynn, his eyes as clear and blue as Mike’s. At times like these, Brody saw very little of Lea in the boy. And then Colin would tilt his head or change the inflection in his voice and remind Brody of Lea all over again. “Why do you want to play with her when you can play with me? You missed tucking me in the other night.”

  Flynn lowered his hand, and as he did, his cards angled out so Brody could see them. Pair of fours, tops. Sucker. “Dude, I love you,” Flynn was explaining. “But Maddie smells nice.” He wiggled his brows. “She lets me kiss her.”

  “You can kiss me.” Colin’s lower lip quivered.

  Flynn opened his mouth to respond, then closed it and narrowed his gaze. He instinctively pulled his cards to his chest and shot a glance at Brody, who looked innocently at his own hand, one that now held three aces and two kings—thanks to Colin’s distraction. His discarded cards sat under his left thigh.

  “You pulling one over on me, kid?” Flynn glared.

  Colin sniffed. “N-no.”

  Brody nudged the faker with his foot.

  The boy let out a forced giggle. “Uh, yeah. I was. Good, huh?”

  Brody grinned and glanced up only to see Mike glaring at him. “What did I do?”

  “You taught my kid to lie.”

  “Please. He’s been lying since he left the womb. He’s a McCauley.”

  Flynn covered his heart with one hand. “I’m so proud.”

  Colin snickered, but Mike continued to stare at Brody.

  “Okay. Fine.” Brody turned to the boy. So damn cute. He’d be a real heartbreaker when he grew up. Flynn liked to think the boy took after him, while Cam credited Colin’s intelligence courtesy of his own tutoring. And Mike, of course, claimed his own genetics had everything to do with Colin’s lovability. But Brody knew the kid had the natural charisma of a born scammer—and that he got from Brody. Nurture over nature every time.

  Brody cleared his throat. “Colin, it’s not right to lie or cheat or steal. Thou shalt never offend thy father. Honor thy uncles. And the most important rule, according to your dad—always let your father win…because he’s a bully.”

  “Brody,” Mike growled.

  Flynn laughed loudly while Colin frowned. “Really?”

  “No,” Mike interrupted. “Ignore Ubie. Play the cards, son.”

  Ubie, short for Uncle Brody. Brody loved the name, just as much as he loved being a part of the group. He never took for granted that they treated him like family. At the thought of his own again, he frowned. Normally he put them out of his mind. But he’d received a message a few days ago he dreaded returning.

  “I call. Three twos.” Colin laid down his cards.

  Mike shook his head. “Straight beats three of a kind. Sorry.” Mike, the big lug, didn’t look sorry. Like the rest of them, he wanted to win. He’d raised Colin to accept losing, even if Mike himself didn’t like it.

  “Shoot.” Colin’s mouth thinned.

  “Damn—er, darn,” Flynn corrected when Mike shot him a look. “Sorry. Pair of fours.”

  They all looked to Brody. With a flourish, he laid out his cards. “Full house, guys. Read ’em and weep. Aces over kings.”

  “Oh?” Mike sounded skeptical.

  Flynn didn’t bother arguing. “Just let it go, Mike. You’ll never be able to prove a thing.”

  “I know. Next time, you don’t deal,” Mike warned him, then sighed. “But a bet’s a bet. Colin, you get an extra hour tomorrow before bedtime. Now thank Ubie for his ‘win’—and I use that term loosely. Then get to bed, you little monster.”

  Colin grinned, showing a missing front tooth, and jumped into Brody’s lap. He hugged Brody so tightly around the neck Brody almost choked. The kid scooped the cards out from under Brody’s leg as he did so. But Mike had been watching. He raised a brow at Brody but said nothing when his son let go and jumped to the floor.

  “Off to bed.”

  “Yes, Dad.” Colin rounded the kitchen table to give Flynn a kiss on the cheek. “G’night, Uncle Flynn. Suckers.” Then he laughed and skipped down the hallway to the bathroom.

  They all waited until a faucet went on.

  Flynn stretched and cracked his knuckles. “Nice work, Brody. In no time, I’m sure Colin will be winning regular hands at King County. They have a juvenile detention facility, right?”

  “He’s smooth, I’ll give him that.” Mike chuckled. “The little wea
sel. I’d call him on it, but he’s been good this week. Halloween is so close, and he’s dying for a bow and arrow set to go with his costume. That ten bucks he ‘won’ out of me should cover it.” Mike shook his head. “You’re not as smooth as you think you are, Brody. I saw Colin take those two cards.”

  Brody didn’t bother enlightening him that Colin had taken both the twos and the aces and given away the better cards to the man he knew would win him the game. “Touché, Mr. Mom.”

  “Asshole. But at least you’re smart enough not to get caught.” Mike glanced at Flynn. “Unlike some.”

  Flynn sneered. “Oh yeah, pick on me because I’m not a good liar. At least I’m normal.”

  Brody peered into the mouth of his bottle and didn’t bother to hide a smile. “So you consider being so whipped by your girlfriend you can’t concentrate on cards anymore normal?”

  “Shut up, cheater.” Flynn sniffed and took another sip. “You’re all just jealous.”

  Mike and Brody grinned at him before Mike ordered Flynn to get everyone another round from the fridge.

  “How come you never boss Brody around?” Flynn whined as he rose to grab their beers.

  “Don’t throw me under the bus just because you’re too scared of musclehead to say no.” When Mike turned that mean look on Brody, Brody shrugged. “Hey, I admit I’m scared. He’s the one trying to act all brave.”

  Mike grunted. Flynn tossed their drinks to them and then sat down while they enjoyed the deep flavor of malted barley and hops.

  “You know, I love when Cam’s around. But have you ever noticed that in his absence, we get back to manly beer?” Brody said after downing a large quantity of his second and last beer of the night. He normally didn’t do more than two beers at a time, and he had to drive home. He’d stay if he didn’t have an annoyed canine waiting for him. Mutt didn’t take kindly to being ignored.

  “No shit.” Mike groaned with pleasure as he guzzled his drink. “Little brother is all about the microbrewery. But his faves are so damn prissy.”