by Zoe York
Jenna made a face. “You know I’ll go if you really want me to, but I’d rather crawl into bed with my husband and my baby and watch a baking show. But if you need a wingwoman…”
“I’ll call Sarah.” The receptionist at the main clinic had been her dancing buddy before she moved.
“Maybe some of the soccer players want to go?”
“Yeah.” But Kerry heard the reluctance in her own voice. She waved her hand and brightened up. “Yes, of course.”
Jenna frowned. “Do you really want me to go dancing with you? Why?”
Kerry hesitated. “They’re all so young!” she finally admitted. “I’m—“ She cut herself off. She realized she had freely told Owen, without a second thought, that she wanted kids in the future. That was something she hadn’t told anyone else, not even Jenna. “I guess I’m just feeling my age suddenly. Can I tell you another secret?”
“Of course.”
“My biological clock started ticking six months ago. It’s wild. I think that’s why I’ve been so content to just settle in here and test out being a homebody, in case I decide to freeze some eggs for down the road.”
“Oh, wow. So you’re looking into options.”
“Sort of. I’ve been doing my research in secret. I haven’t talked to a doctor yet, but that’s probably sooner than later.”
“How do you feel about it?”
“I feel like I want a baby. Not now, because…”
Jenna howled. “They interfere with dancing.”
“I’m painfully aware of that. Hence my equal and opposite urge to hit a club hard and do something stupid.”
“Make out with a twenty-three year old?”
“Drunk text a thirty-seven-year-old grandfather,” she confessed.
Jenna’s face softened. “Oh, Kerry.”
“I’m not going to do it, don’t worry.”
“I know you won’t. But are you sure Owen is the guy you want, if you also want babies?”
Kerry blew a raspberry. “That’s life, isn’t it? Nothing ever lines up neatly. No, I know he’s not a partner to raise kids with, don’t worry. He’s been there, done that, has the tattered t-shirt to prove it. The two things are separate for me, I promise.” If she thought about it for a hot second, she could see how Owen could be a nice distraction from the tick tick tock of her biological urges. “And first things first…right now, my only burning desire is to cut loose for a night.”
“All right. Let’s go out. Life is short and your partying days might be numbered. We’ll make it a big thing. Text Sarah, call Lore. We’ll have a big ole girls night out in Owen Sound. Why not? And Sean and James will have a boys’ night here at home without me. It might need to wait a few weeks, though, if we’re going to find someone to cover both of our on-call shifts.”
“I can wait.” Kerry was surprised to hear how true that was when said out loud. She wasn’t actually in any hurry to go out and party. If anything, she wanted it to test herself, to double check that she might actually be moving on from that stage in her life.
Where Owen and his searing gaze could fit into the next stage…that remained unclear. But until she figured that out, she’d probably enjoy bumping into him around town.
Chapter Thirteen
Owen headed upstairs to the library thirty minutes before the interagency meeting. He checked the thriller stacks, but there was no sign of Kerry.
He hadn’t seen her in a week. Seven days of unnecessary drives down Main Street, of popping into Mac’s for coffee multiple times a day, and—once—even resorting to asking his brothers if they had seen her at the Hedgehog.
They hadn’t, but that lead to a whole heap of uncomfortable follow-up questions he immediately regretted opening himself up to.
His phone vibrated in his pocket, and he pulled it out. Speak of the meddling jerks.
Adam: Kerry’s just arrived at the fire station.
Owen: We have a meeting.
Adam: Is that why you wanted to know if she was at the bar the other night? A “meeting”?
Owen: You’re grounded.
Adam: If only you still had that power over me.
Owen: If only.
Then he frowned.
Owen: Hey, why are you here?
Adam: I’ve said too much. *poof*
Owen pivoted around, searching for a window that overlooked the parking lot. Sure enough, there was Adam’s truck. And just a bit closer to the door, Kerry’s car. He should head downstairs and giving his baby brother a dose of his own meddling medicine. It was the Kincaid way.
But on the other hand…
His pulse thudded heavy at the base of his neck.
Whatever Adam was up to, he was going to get away with, because Owen wasn’t going anywhere if Kerry was on her way upstairs. He grabbed a book and leaned against the end of the stack, in plain sight. Just acting casual.
He’d touched her.
She’d been in his kitchen, and he’d touched her face. Need burned inside him, made worse by the fact that she was off-limits, at least for the time being.
Never before in his entire adult life had he wanted anyone quite like this. It was consuming and dangerous and it felt very good, deep in his chest. Like good things come to those who wait kind of good.
Everything else on his Great Bachelor Plan list faded away, and get Kerry in his bed pulsed in neon letters instead. Of course there was still a crying baby in the room across the hall. A baby she had delivered just two weeks earlier. But in time. Soon enough.
It couldn’t come soon enough.
But when her dark curls bobbed into sight, Owen remembered that there were two of them playing this waiting game, and where he might be tangled up in his unholy desire to taste every inch of her, Kerry seemed completely composed as she stopped at the return slot and deposited her books, then checked out the bulletin board before slowly making her way in his direction.
“Early again,” she said by way of greeting. Her eyes danced, a lovely sparkle as she held his gaze, but that was it. No other outward indication that this was anything other than two colleagues catching up before a meeting.
He held up the book in his hand. “I’ve been waiting for this one to come out.”
She glanced at the cover, then burst out laughing. “Really?”
He groaned. “No.” Then he glanced at the cover. Iron Curtain Stealth. “I need to start actually looking at books before I pick them up around you,” he muttered under his breath.
“Oh?”
“Last time we were in this stack, I accidentally signed out The Lady Loves a Necromancer.”
Her eyes went wide. “And?”
“It was pretty good.”
She laughed again. He’d been craving that sound and he didn’t even know it.
“I returned it a while ago. You should see if it’s available.”
“I will.” She reached into her bag. “On a professional note, I drafted some points I’d like our committee to consider making a public statement about. Do you have a few minutes now to discuss them in advance? If we have common ground, it might be easier to get buy in from everyone else.”
Kerry was, by far, the most progressive member of their committee. Owen was glad she’d pushed to be included on it. He might lean more conservatively in terms of resource allocation, but he couldn’t fault her optimism or commitment to public health.
He took the note, their fingers brushing for the briefest of split-seconds, and read it over. They were more than solid ideas—they were brave and fearless, but each bullet point was carefully constructed to focus on patient safety. “These are great. You’ve got my support.”
“Excellent.” She glanced past him. “Now, where did you find that necromancy book?”
When Owen got home from work Friday night he immediately noticed something was up with Becca. She was acting a little strange, a little distant, and someone was blowing up her phone. He hoped to hell it wasn’t Hayden. The kid had come around twice for brief visi
ts, but pre-season training had started, and well, there were only so many commitments a nineteen-year-old jackass could juggle at once.
“How did Charlie nap today?” he asked, rocking the sleeping baby as she bustled around the kitchen.
That she had dinner sorted out was also strange.
“Fine.”
“Did you nap?”
She didn’t answer him, because she was buried in her phone again.
“Becca, did you hear me?”
“Yeah, Dad.” She blinked at him, set her phone face down on the kitchen counter, and crossed her arms. “I heard you.”
“What did I ask?”
“Probably something you didn’t need to worry about.”
He shook his head. “I don’t think you heard me.”
She sighed. “Yes, I napped.”
He laughed and threw his free hand in the air. Charlie didn’t stir. “So you did hear me.”
“I told you that I did!”
“But then—”
“It’s called boundaries, Dad. We need them. You don’t need to worry about my every waking second, you don’t need to check on me and see if I’m parenting exactly the way you did.”
“Is that what I’m doing?”
She made an exaggerated thinking face.
He glanced at her phone. “What is this really about?”
“Nothing.” She rolled her eyes. “Nothing. Go take Charlie into the other room and let me finish cooking.”
“You don’t need help?”
“Helicopter grandparent,” she snapped at him. It was a mock-complaint, meant to distract him from whatever she wanted to pay attention to on her phone, but he let her push him out of the room.
If she wanted him to lie on the couch and watch a baseball game with Charlie, he wasn’t going to complain.
This had been his greatest joy with Becca, too. Eighteen years later, he was once again overwhelmed by how good the top of a baby’s head smelled, how warm and perfect their little bodies felt when perched on his chest. And Charlie seemed to like it. He stayed asleep for almost an hour, waking up just as Becca joined them on the couch with two plates of food.
She took the baby, and Owen dug in to his dinner. She was still off the smell of meat cooking, so she’d made an oven-roasted pasta sauce that was amazing.
“I’m going to have to go for a long run or something tomorrow,” Owen said, patting his belly. “That was a carb-loading feast.”
“You’ll find some way to burn it off.” Becca handed him his grandson back. “And I’m eating for two, so…”
“Hey, I’m not complaining. It was delicious.”
“I’ve been watching cooking videos whenever I’m stuck in a cuddly Charlie nap. That was one of them.”
“It’s a real winner.”
The game he was watching hit the seventh inning stretch, and he got up to do the same thing when there was a knock at the door.
When Owen answered it, he found Will and Adam on his doorstep. They were both dressed like they were going out for the night, in dark jeans, polished boots, and matching black shirts.
“This is an intervention,” Adam said, a wicked gleam in his eye adding a dangerous glint to his already cocky grin.
Owen glanced from his brothers to his daughter.
Becca shrugged. “What? You needed to get out of the house and you wouldn’t listen to me.”
“You haven’t told me to get out.”
“Would it have worked if I did?” She didn’t wait for him to answer. “So I called in reinforcements.”
Adam grinned and flexed his arms. “That’s me.”
Will gave him a backhanded slap on the chest. “Us.”
“Sure. Mr. Tough Guy Principal here is going to force your stubborn ass out onto the dance floor.”
Owen looked back at Becca. “Are you sure you want me to be gone all evening?”
“Dad. Seriously. I’m going to be fine. And…Hayden might come over for another visit—with Charlie, don’t freak out—and that would be easier if you weren’t here. You keep scaring him off.”
He sat back down. “I knew something was up. I’m not going anywhere.”
As one, Adam and Will descended on him. “She’s a grown-up, you ass.” Becca giggled when Will said that. “And he’s the kid’s father. Plus we need a designated driver, so get your butt in your truck.”
He didn’t want to go. But he didn’t want to stay, either, and deal with the awkwardness of Hayden and Becca. She was right—he probably did scare the kid off, and if they needed some time alone to get used to being parents together, so be it. He stood, sighed, and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fine,” he muttered. Then he glowered at Becca. “I’ll leave the nanny cam on, so nothing inappropriate.”
She rolled her eyes. “We don’t have a nanny cam.”
“That’s beside the point.”
“Go put on something nice.”
He didn’t own anything that even came close to that description. Nothing like the black buttoned down shirts his brothers wore. But he had black t-shirts. He bought those every time they went on sale, so he pulled on one that had hit that sweet spot of being broken in enough to be soft to the touch, but not yet stretched out and worn.
In the bathroom, he glowered at his face in the mirror. Should he shave? He ran a hand over his five o’clock shadow. No, he was fine. He needed to get past the bouncers, but he didn’t need to actually impress anyone. The stubble could stay.
When he returned to the living room, Will was giving his boots a quick toe polish, and Adam was making cooing sounds at Charlie. “Your grandpa’s going to have a good time tonight,” the traitorous uncle said in a sing song voice. “Yes he is. Oh yes he—”
Owen cleared his throat. “Let’s get this show on the road.”
But once they were piled into his truck and driving down the highway toward the city, he not-so-grudgingly admitted to his brothers that Becca’s instincts had been right. He should have realized sooner she needed an empty house in order for Charlie and Hayden to bond properly.
“Remember when you caught Josh with a girl in his room? How old was he?” Adam laughed.
Owen’s neck burned at the memory. “He was seventeen. Fuck, that was embarrassing for all of us. But don’t bring that up now, God damn it, Adam. She gave birth two weeks ago. Do not put that shit in my head.”
“She’s not going to do anything with Hayden.”
From beside Owen, Will did a slow turn to the back seat. “You know this how?”
“We talk,” Adam said. “What? I’m the cool one. And I’m closer to her age than Owen’s. She grew up with me in the next room, remember? I’m her big brother.”
“No you’re not,” Owen grunted. “But if you’ve got reassuring intel that she can barely stand Hayden and is being a mature co-parent, I’m all ears.”
“No dice, bro. She loves him—sorry, but it’s true, and you know it. That’s no secret. But she doesn’t trust him, and she’s holding him at arm’s length. So yes, she’s being a mature co-parent. That part is bang on. She learned that from you and Rachel. You can’t blame her.”
Owen rubbed the back of his neck. “That feels like a backhanded compliment.”
“That’s because it was,” Will said dryly. He pulled out his phone. “Changing the subject, some people from the unit are going to be at the club tonight.”
Owen made a face. As a senior army reservist, he didn’t always like to hang out with army people. The rank stuff got blurred during social events, and he didn’t love that. Of course, as he was being forced to examine more and more these days, when did he love anything other than holding his grandson and watching a baseball game?
Will waved off his bad mood. “Don’t worry. It’s 90s Throwback night at the club, so not the younger guys. Some senior NCOs, their partners. Rafe Minelli and his wife.”
“Stevie’s coming,” Adam piped up from the back seat. “And some of the crew from Warriors Moving.”
&nb
sp; “Should be a good night,” Owen murmured.
When they arrived, they had to park down the street because the lot was already full. At the door they paid their entrance fees, had their ID checked—always amusing for Owen, who had felt too old to be ID’d since before he was even of age to buy booze. Having a kid early did that to a guy. He’d been old before his time, and now… well, at least the bouncer didn’t kick him out for not wearing a nice enough shirt.
By the looks of some of the people in line with them, the boot shine hadn’t even been necessary.
Have a good time, he repeated to himself. A good challenge.
After their eyes had adjusted to the dark, Will gestured around the space, which Owen had never been in before. “The bar is over there,” he yelled, pointing to the left, and around the dance floor. To the right, where he pointed next, was a stepped up seating area, darker and hard to see in, but just as full of people as the dance floor was. “I’m going to look for the guys from the unit. You two hit the bar, then let’s meet over on the far side.”
Even though the music was from the 1990s and the crowd was more mature than the average club-goer, Owen still felt older than dirt as he followed Adam. His younger brother elbowed his way toward the bar like a pro.
When was the last time Owen had bellied up to any bar, let alone one surrounded by scantily-clad nubile bodies? Did going to the Hedgehog a couple of times a year even count if he just played darts and Lore brought him beer like he was some kind of antisocial ogre?
He winced.
He was an antisocial ogre. And everyone was having a great time. He could learn something from them. Scanning the crowd, he forced himself to keep an open mind about the evening.
That was when he saw her, in the middle of a pack of women.
Dark bouncing waves, and a lot of skin.
Kerry twisted to the music, a little halter top shimmying around her torso as she moved. It was metallic, reflecting the light. Her skin sparkled too.
So much skin. Bare shoulders, bare abs, and when she turned all the way around, a very bare back. Her halter top tied in two places, at her neck and in the middle of her back, and that was it.