Ready For It (MacAteer Brothers Book 2) Page 7

  Beverly and the kids had gone to their church services earlier this morning. She worked as the pianist there, and Owen marveled at both her talent and her weekly workload. She had invited him and Connor to come along, however they both declined in favor of getting the camper situated while the kids were occupied.

  He shut off the engine to his big black truck when he saw the red Audi jerk to a stop in the driveway. Melanie got out and hurried toward them.

  “Hi, MacAteer male type people. Is Beverly around?”

  Her light tone and bright fake smile didn’t fool Owen. Something was wrong.

  Connor wasn’t fooled either. “She texted after the services finished that she was gonna do a grocery store and Arby’s run on her way back. Should be here soon. What’s the matter?”

  “Oh, nothing. I’m fine. Just peachy.” The dark streaks under her eyes didn’t support her lie at all. “I was just in the neighborhood and thought I’d come see everyone for a bit.”

  “You don’t look fine, Mellie. Come in the house and sit down. I’ll call Bev and see if she’s getting close.”

  “No, no, don’t bother her. Really, Con-man, I’m good. I’m totally good. I’m so good, there is no limit to the goodness.”

  Tears tracked down her face, and she brushed at them impatiently. “Don’t mind this shit. I’m good. I swear I am.”

  Owen watched her for a moment. She crossed her arms in front of her middle, fighting to keep herself contained. It didn’t take a genius to see she was losing. He tucked his keys into his pocket and moved to take her in his arms. As he enfolded her in the cocoon of his body, she leaned into him. The morning had been long and hot and the afternoon not much different. Owen knew his sleeveless T-shirt was soaked with sweat from working outside, but she snuggled her face into his shoulder, not seeming to care.

  “Dad bay?” Shit! Maybe she didn’t catch the reversed words.

  “You guys already heard about my condition, right? My hormones are all outta whack. That’s all.”

  Connor spoke. Owen kept his silence. “Yeah, we had a family meeting about it. Sarah has been looking up baby names, and Abby is hoping you’ll go for natural childbirth so you don’t start the baby’s life with what she calls toxic chemicals. Personally, I’d go for the drugs.”

  She gave a light laugh, and more tears flowed down her cheeks. “I think this is in my top ten of bad days. Make that the top five.” She pulled away from Owen and swiped at her eyes. Two perfect black rings circled her eyes, with matching ones on his shirt. “Well, shit, Owen. Looks like I marked you.”

  He shook his head. “No dig beal.” Fuck, he did it again!

  Melanie didn’t say anything. She swiped again at her eyes, licked a finger, and smeared the black smudges more. “I bet I look like a rabid raccoon on crack. Mind if I take a trip to the bathroom and get this shit cleaned up a bit?”

  Connor pointed to the back door. “Take all the time you need, mo rún.”

  Owen watched as she made her way to the house. The floral dress showed off her gentle curves and long legs. She looked like she was strutting on a runway rather than stumbling through a backyard. Somehow she managed not to sink her spiky heels into the dirt.

  “Put your eyes back in your head, boy-o. Bev may not take kindly to you staring at her best friend’s ass.”

  Owen broke his gaze away from the retreating back. “Not staring. Worried.”

  Connor sighed as he moved to unhook the camper from the truck and finish the set up. “I think we’re all worried for her. She’s a strong, smart lady, but her life is about to change. Big time.”

  Owen’s triceps burned as he cranked down the camper’s ground braces. “You got your kids all at once. No babies.”

  Connor pulled the cotter pin and unlocked the connecting ball joint. “No babies of my own, but I raised our sister, Eva, and those two hooligans, Patrick and Angus. Biology doesn’t make you a parent.”

  Owen grunted a response but didn’t say anything. Connor’s assertion about parenting was spot-on, as he had spent his life taking care of his family and had now stepped into taking care of another one. The kids still spent time with their bio dad, but the visits were getting more and more rare.

  Melanie’s bio baby daddy, Peter, had taken himself out of the picture, and Melanie hadn’t brought up his name since the night she came to the house and got sick. If he hadn’t had overheard that name, he wouldn’t have known it. He couldn’t wrap his brain around how anyone would consider abandoning their child, but that’s exactly what this Peter person had done.

  Connor had pulled the thick power cord from the camper’s side when a flurry of noise came from the house. Mattie, followed by Jacob and Muttface, ran into the backyard.

  “Tag!”

  “No, you tag!”

  “I was here first.”

  “Nuh-unh, I was.”

  “Yuh-huh, me.”

  “No, me!”

  “Connor!”

  Muttface ran around in circles, barking his head off, while Connor laughed. “I don’t think it matters who’s first in tag. Just the one that’s it.”

  This set off another word barrage.

  “You’re it!”

  “No, you’re it.”

  “No, you!”

  “You!”

  Connor reached down to scratch the ears of the excited dog. “You’re both wrong.”

  The boys stopped their arguing and looked at Connor in question. Owen guessed what came next.

  “The truth of the matter, boys…” Connor spoke quietly, making the two kids approach closer to hear. “The truth of the matter is…”

  They came within arm’s reach.

  “What I mean to say is… I’M IT! Aha!”

  Mattie squealed in delight as Connor grabbed him and tossed him over one shoulder. He still managed to catch Jacob under his arm in a football hold. There weren’t too many more years Connor would be able to do that, as the older boy was growing into a lanky, tall man-child. “Oy, Owen! Go get the bin. Need to clean up the yard.”

  Mattie laughed and squirmed. “Nooo! Don’t throw me away! I’ll fart on you!”

  “Then I’ll definitely put you in the bin.”

  Owen watched them play. His heart swelled with happiness for his older brother. After a lifetime of hard work and sacrificing for his family, he had something special in Beverly and the kids.

  “Arby’s had their five for five sale today. Guess what Mom brought home for lunch?” Sarah made the announcement from the back deck. Owen looked up to see Melanie had returned and had her eyes on the antics. The black smudges were gone, but she swiped at her eyes. Owen wondered what she thought while she gazed at the play between stepfather and sons.

  “Oy, last one in is a rotten egg!” Jacob yelled as he made a dash for the steps. Owen chuckled at the speech pattern the boy had picked up from Connor. Mattie scrambled behind with Muttface nearly tripping him.

  “Wash up first and don’t hog all the horsey sauce!” Connor clapped Owen on the shoulder. “Ah, it’s a good life, boy-o. We’ll finish the job in a bit. I need to go help my lovely wife get groceries in and put away.”

  Both men climbed the steps, and Connor disappeared inside. Melanie swiped her eyes again and shifted them to meet Owen’s.

  “You good?”

  She smiled a watery smile and brushed at his shirt as if knocking off a piece of dirt. “Yeah, O-man. I’m always good when I’m here.”

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, she was beautiful! Owen focused on her parted lips and had the urge to taste them. Would they be as sweet as he imagined?

  A conversation between Abby and Beverly drifted from the open back door.

  “Arby’s fries their potato cakes in pure organic vegetable oil and no animal fats, right?”

  “I don’t know, Abby.”

  “Did you get my salad?”

  “Yes, it’s in a separate bag.”

  “I wanted Ranch dressing.”

  “Ranch dressing isn�
�t vegan.”

  “There’s a non-dairy kind.”

  “Not at Arby’s.”

  “Mom!”

  Melanie groaned and leaned into Owen’s body, face planting in his wide chest. “Please tell me there’s an alternative to teenagers?”

  His arms came up automatically to rest lightly around her back. “Send them to Bevvie.”

  She laughed against his shirt, and a spark shot through his shoulders to his groin. What he wouldn’t give to hear that sound over and over again.

  “Thank you for being such a good friend.”

  Friend. A sharp needle pierced his chest at that single word, and his good mood deflated.

  Beverly poked her head outside. “You two better get in here before the boys scarf all the mozzarella sticks.”

  Melanie straightened herself. “Mattie will save some for his favorite Auntie M.”

  “No, I won’t!” came a faint call through the screen door.

  “Little booger!” She ran after the imp.

  Owen stood a moment on the empty deck. Friends. She saw them as friends and nothing more. He moved to enter the house. It could be worse, he supposed. She could regard him as an acquaintance through the family or even worse, not regard him at all. From what he observed, her relationship with Beverly had lasted longer and was more solid than with any boyfriend she’d ever had. If her friendship meant he had a place in her life, he could be happy with it. At least he told himself that. Maybe someday he would believe it.

  Chapter Nine

  Who ever thought a teeny tiny little bundle of cells would become my entire focus? My life had changed. Weekend trips to the beach, wine tastings, parties, and clubbing held no appeal to me anymore. Instead, I stayed home, looked up recipes, and clicked through shows on streaming cable channels I never watched until now. I thought about how every bite I put in my mouth affected the life form inside me. I thought about the security of my finances and the future that I needed to plan. I thought about what labor would feel like. I thought about all the complicated issues of raising a child. What if my kids turned out to be special needs? Could I handle that? What if they got sick? What if they got cancer? What if I couldn’t raise them right? What if I failed as a mom and ruined their life? What if? What if? What if?

  Fuck me sideways, it was enough to give me headaches. If Bevvie ever had any doubts about her ability to parent, I couldn’t tell. She was good at it. Her astounding patience for Abby’s quirks, support for Jacob’s science and inventing passions, understanding of Sarah’s penchant for debate and her more recent political obsession, the stamina to keep up with Mattie’s constant energy, keeping up with a household and cooking on a nightly basis, plus working full-time, all of these things made me think of her as super mom. The kids thrived in school, bringing home good grades and excellent behavior reports. They looked happy and secure in their family, knowing they were loved and would always be.

  How the hell was I supposed to do all that when I couldn’t even bake a decent pan of brownies? Even from a premade mix?

  The blackened bricks mocked me from the counter where I threw them after I burned my wrist on the edge of the oven.

  “Son of a bitch!” The acrid smell of burnt chocolate filled the air as I ran my wrist under cold water. I could count the times on one hand that I’d turned on the oven since I bought my condo eight years ago. It had been perfectly clean and pristine until I got it in my head I needed to learn to cook. Now it resembled a war zone of crispy drippings from countless overspills. I could scramble a decent egg, but that about summed up my culinary skills.

  I tried brownies for my Fourth of July contribution. The obligatory invitation came from my parents to the country club party, and I made my obligatory decline. My mother made her complaints about me not visiting enough, and how disappointing I was to my father. She made mention about their upcoming Labor Day gala and how much I needed to be there for appearances’ sake. I heard nothing from Martin nor Magnus. No surprise.

  I’d opted for several years to join Bevvie and her family for the big all-day festival in Pack Square Park. There were kids’ games, crafts vendors, music from local bands, food trucks, the works. I would rather spend the day watching Mattie stuff himself silly with cotton candy and go full-blown Tasmanian Devil cartoon than with the stuffy formal luncheon and afternoon drinking group of women my mother wanted me to join.

  I picked up a knife and stuck it under the corner of one brownie to see if it could be salvaged. The corner broke off with a crack and flew across my living area. A sigh escaped my lips. Nope, not happening. I dumped the ruined pan into the trash can and made plans to visit the Trader Joe’s bakery on the way to the house. No need to poison anyone today.

  The plan today was for me to go to Bevvie’s place, then all of us would cram into the two huge trucks and park on the top floor of the Hilton hotel garage deck. We would spend the day at the festival, then enjoy the fireworks with blankets spread out in the truck beds. That event started after sundown, and the view from the deck would put the sparkling show directly overhead.

  As per usual, the chaos at Bev’s house was in full swing when I got there.

  “Mom, did you pack my organic granola bars?”

  “Top shelf in the pantry.”

  “Mom, where are my shoes?”

  “Where you left them last time you took them off.”

  “Mom, can I have some fried Oreos later?”

  “If you can find them, but only two.”

  “Mom, I only found one shoe.”

  “Too bad you have two feet.”

  “Mom, I’m hungry.”

  Connor came down the stairs carrying a load of blankets. “Oy, Jacob. Your other shoe is in the hall closet. Abby, can you take these to my truck, please? Morning, Mel.”

  Mattie skimmed across the kitchen floor in socks. “Hi, Auntie M! Mom says I get two fried Oreos today!”

  My stomach twisted a little at the thought of the grease-dripping, sticky, sweet treat. The morning sickness had cleared up for the most part, but every once in a while it would make an appearance. “Awesome sauce, kiddo. Morning to you too, Connor.”

  Sarah sat at the table munching a bowl of cereal. Owen sat next to her, drinking a gargantuan cup of coffee. The gentle giant raised his eyes over the white rim and nodded in my direction. I tilted my head up with a smile and winked at him in greeting. Yeah, it was a flirty move, but I felt really good.

  I should have known better.

  The weather burned sunny and hot. I had on loose white shorts and a sleeveless cotton blouse. My clothes still fit okay at this point, even though I’d started my second trimester. Only seven extra pounds gained so far, making me a little rounder, but no significant baby bump yet. My bag held water bottles, extra sunscreen spray, sunglasses, and ponytail ties. On my feet were padded sandals. I could wear heels all day long with no trouble, but the look didn’t fit with the casual family outing vibe I wanted.

  Somehow, we got ourselves to the festival by midmorning. Abby walked off to find her friends and ignore everyone for the day. Jacob, Sarah, and Mattie went for the rides and games with Connor and Owen. That left Bevvie and me by ourselves to wander through the displays. God, how I loved festivals! Handmade jewelry, handbags, pottery, artwork—this place was crack to a shopaholic like me. In no time at all, I had several bags hanging from my wrist.

  Bevvie picked up a soap bar from a table and inhaled the scent with her eyes closed. “Oh, this is nice. I should get some of these, ’cause I know who made them.”

  I blinked. “You know someone who makes soap?”

  She picked up another colorful bar. “Well, kinda.” She put down the bar and ticked off her fingers one by one. “Connor’s sister’s husband’s MC brother’s wife has a shop in Bryson City called Soap-n-stuff. I recognized the name on the label. Eva gave me some last year for Christmas along with matching bath bombs. Unbelievable! If I could’ve moved into the tub for a week, I would have.”

  We pick
ed through the soaps, oohing over the luscious scents and color patterns. Bevvie had three in her hand and I had twelve when a loud voice behind me cut through our marveling.

  “Well, well, well, if it isn’t little Melanie Miser.”

  Fuck. My stomach twisted on itself, and icy fingers traced over my spine as I snapped up straight. I locked my knees to keep them from shaking, and every muscle contracted to wire tight rigidness. I raised my chin a few degrees and turned to face the man I hated most in the world.

  Robert, my brother’s best friend and my biggest enemy, stood right behind me. He had become a big-time investment banker and moved to Charlotte years ago. Our two cities were separated by a two-hour drive, and I would love to see that distance tripled. Quadrupled. Hell, the bastard could move all the way to California, and it still wouldn’t be far enough away.

  “You look beautiful as ever. How’s life been treating you?”

  His face smiled, and his tone sounded curious and friendly, but his eyes fixed on my breasts, and I had to tamp down the impulse to cover them with my arms.

  “I’m good, Robert. Real good. Why are you here?”

  He shrugged and picked up a bar of soap and sniffed at it. “I moved back to Asheville last month. I’m taking over for my dad at First and Trust Bank as president and CEO. Magnus didn’t tell you?”

  “Magnus and I don’t speak any more than we have to.”

  He wrinkled his nose at the scent and put the bar back down. “Ugh, Lavender. Kiki loves this smell. I think it’s revolting.”

  He poked at another one but didn’t pick it up. “Personally, I’d rather be on the links, but the bank has a booth, and Dad thought it was a good idea to meet and greet the locals since I haven’t lived here in a long time. You know. Get reacquainted with old friends?”