Ready For It (MacAteer Brothers Book 2) Read online

  “Can I have another loofah? Mine fell apart.”

  “How ’bout the hair mask stuff? Can we do that too?”

  Melanie laughed. “Yes, all of it. I brought the organic natural stuff just for you, Abby.” She sniffed the air. “Oh, what is that heavenly smell?”

  “Mosskey!” Mattie dove over the couch again, this time coming to a perfect sitting position. He bounced on the cushions in his excitement.

  “Boxty,” Owen corrected.

  “It’s potatoes made into pancakes. Uncle Owen made farty cabbage too.”

  “Oh, really? Are you going to try to fart the alphabet tonight?”

  Mattie stopped bouncing and looked at Melanie with wide, surprised eyes. “You can do that?”

  Her laugh rang out. “Not me, monkey-butt. You. I’ve heard it’s possible, but you have to concentrate and practice a lot. I bet there’s a YouTube how-to video. When you try it later, point that weapon of mass destruction away from me, yeah?”

  Owen shook his head and groaned. “You just gave the boy a life goal.”

  She shrugged and moved to put two tubs of ice cream in the freezer. “Look at it this way, O-man. He’ll eat what you serve him tonight, and it will give him something to do that doesn’t involve swinging from the ceiling or sliding down the banisters.”

  Owen turned off the burner and pulled the sausages from the oven where he’d kept them warm. “Oy, wash up. Food is ready.”

  Dinner progressed without incident. All four kids ate plenty, and very little food was leftover. Even the cabbage disappeared. The boys took their turn in kitchen cleanup, while the girls set up for their night of girly pampering upstairs in Connor and Bevvie’s spacious room. Owen heard them argue over what movie to watch.

  “Princess Bride?”

  “We’ve seen that a hundred times. Pride and Prejudice?”

  “That one is old.”

  “So is Princess Bride. How ’bout Beauty and the Beast?”

  “Animated or live version?”

  “Live, of course.”

  Owen’s respect for his sister-in-law and her patience grew with every sentence. How did she ever do this as a single parent?

  The boys settled for video games. Owen sat and watched them play for a while, but the constant jerking movements of the screen made him dizzy. He climbed the stairs to check on the female population of the house and got a glimpse of three heads wrapped in towels and three faces covered in grayish, lumpy gunk. Abby shrieked when she spotted him looking in and slammed the door in his face.

  Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, if he ever had children of his own, he hoped God would spare him the complexities of raising teenage girls.

  He spent the rest of the evening with a book until the boys called it a night and scampered upstairs to bed. “Don’t forget to brush your teeth.”

  “We know, Uncle Owen.”

  He leaned against the banister and listened to flushing toilets and running faucets. Connor had done a great job in designing the second floor. The kids’ bedrooms might be small, but each kid got their own space and shared a bathroom in between rooms. The master bedroom and guest room also shared a more spacious and adult-friendly bathroom. Beverly had remarked more than once how much she loved the jetted tub Connor had put in for her. He wondered if Melanie had a jetted tub in her condo and used it much.

  The object of his musings came down the steps with Muttface right behind her. She wore dark purple lounge pants and a loose T-shirt that read “I’m a Teacher. What’s your Superpower?” Her full breasts swayed heavily under the cloth, and his groin tightened.

  “Muttface needs to go out. You want anything from the kitchen?”

  “Another bowl of ice cream. You pick the flavor.”

  She grinned, and he watched as she walked away. She had grown a little rounder in her hips, and there was a fullness to her face, otherwise, he couldn’t really see her pregnancy. She still got queasy, but he hadn’t noticed any more significant morning sickness.

  The back door opened and closed, and Owen pictured her standing on the deck in the moist night air waiting for the dog to finish its business. The moonlight shone in her hair, turning it the color of burnished gold, and she had her hands on her hips, telling the canine to “hurry the fuck up.” Christ, what he wouldn’t pay to have that scene for real on a nightly basis. His dick swelled uncomfortably against the zipper of his jeans, and he shifted back on the sofa, splaying out his legs for some relief. He laid his head back against the high cushion and recited the Gaelic alphabet in his head to distract himself.

  “This is rather domestic. Sleeping already?” Her soft voice came to him along with the click of canine nails on the wood floor. Two bowls of cookies-and-cream were in her hands.

  “No, just resting my eyes.”

  Muttface sniffed at his knee and then thumped up the stairs, presumably to sleep with one of the kids. The sofa moved as Melanie settled next to him. The clean scent of lavender wafted to his nostrils as she leaned over him to pick up the remote, and he silently ran through the alphabet again.

  “Mind if I put on an action movie? There’s only so much fairy tale romance crap I can take.” She clicked on the TV and lowered the volume. Gunfire and shouts emanated from the flat screen speakers.

  “You don’t like Princess Bride and Cinderella stories?”

  “Not particularly. They’re okay for kids, but adults know better. The ball doesn’t last forever, and after the big-ass sparkling wedding, Cinderella still has to take off her pretty dress and start a normal everyday life. There’s no such thing as a happily ever after.”

  “Bite me.” Owen cringed when the words left his mouth. “C-came out wrong. Might. Be. Not bite me.”

  Melanie stayed silent for a few seconds and then let out a huge laugh. “Oh, shit, O-man! That was classic.”

  He relaxed when she kept laughing. “Normal life has happy endings. Look at Connor and Beverly.”

  She wiped at her eyes. “You have a point, though I think they’re more the exception than the rule.”

  The movie had gotten to a long, complicated chase montage when Melanie conked out and snuggled into Owen’s side. Her arm flopped across his lap with her wrist just over his crotch. He froze in place as she sighed and started lightly snoring. His arm came over her back and she curled in tighter. He contemplated the top of her blonde head. Natural. No dark roots. Cut in a simple style for a rather complicated woman. Friends, she’d labeled the two of them, but did friends fall asleep on each other? Did they touch with such casualness? Confusion ruled in Owen’s mind as he tried to reconcile the idea of “just friends” with a woman whose hand rested on top of his dick for the second time. He knew it was unconsciously done, but the fact she was comfortable with him and sure enough of her welcome to nestle into his body spoke volumes.

  This woman had the capability to hurt him, whether she wanted to or not, and the last thing he wanted was to be just another man in a long line of men.

  How should he handle it? Did he need to handle it, or did he only need to protect his heart?

  Melanie made a muffled noise against his chest. She was probably down for the night. Owen contemplated waking her up to get her to the guest room upstairs, but when he tried to move her, she gripped his hip and wouldn’t budge. He leaned his head back against the sofa and closed his eyes. Just a few minutes, then he’d try again.

  Chapter Twelve

  The dismissal bell rang out, and the bodies moved in one massive unit, unfolding from the small desks, jamming books into backpacks, and scrambling for the classroom door. I called out assignments as they left.

  “Homework is on page twenty-three. Test next Thursday. Everything is posted on the class calendar page. Tag me there if you have a question over the weekend, and I’ll do my best to get you answers as quickly as possible.”

  I wasn’t sure how many kids actually listened to me, but I’d started the class off with the same information. Hopefully those teenage minds remembered one of th
e two reminders. The school year started two weeks ago, the first one for teachers in preparation, and the second for students. I had six classes this year, including one for calculus. I hadn’t planned on teaching the higher math course, but the normal calculus teacher took a tumble off his roof and spent his first week of planning in the hospital in traction for a shattered pelvis and broken back. Finding long-term subs turned out to be just as hard as finding higher math teachers, and our esteemed principal decided to split up the advanced classes between the remaining instructors.

  I also moved up as head coach of the mathletes team. This didn’t bother me, however it did add even more to my work day and work schedule. The last few years, I’d been the head of the math department, mainly because no one else wanted it. Ever since I accepted that responsibility, more and more duties were piled on my back. Homecoming advisor? Ask Ms. Miser. School club sponsor? Ask Ms. Miser. Need an academic liaison? Don’t ask. Tell Ms. Miser. It seemed like the answer to any problem dealing with numbers or student activities was oh, Melanie Miser can do it. She’s single and doesn’t really have a life.

  Gah! I needed to get my shit together about next semester. The January due date meant I would need a long-term sub for the second half of the school year. Fuck, I hoped I could find one! I might decide to take the entire semester off, which would drastically impact everything I did at the school. Was there anyone who could take my place? Probably not. Teacher burnout was a real thing and made a lot of people in my profession leave after a few years. Most of the veteran teachers in my department had settled into a comfortable zone and were coasting into retirement. They wanted no more work than what was necessary for their classes, and even then, only the minimum. My days during the school year extended far beyond hours in the classroom, simply because work had to be done, and as the top dog, I had to do it. At last the weekend had arrived.

  Labor Day weekend, that was. Historically, it was supposed to be a remembrance of the labor movement. It was about the dedication, economic contributions, and achievements of American workers. For some, it was a three-day weekend of sales, cookouts, and firing off any leftover Fourth of July fireworks. For teachers, it was one last summer hurrah before the super tight school calendar gets started. Meetings, classes, planning sessions, after school study groups, football games, club activities, homecoming parade, senior recognitions… the list was endless. The next real break won’t be until the end of November, and afterward, the big end of the semester exam push starts. Fuck, I’m tired just thinking of it.

  I’m also tired just thinking of what I have to face this weekend.

  Bevvie popped her head into my class. “I see you’re still standing. New class gonna work out okay?”

  I sighed and opened the bottom drawer to my desk. “Like I have a choice in the matter. I swear the troll is out to get me.”

  “Troll?”

  “My new nickname for Principal Bradshaw.”

  “I thought that’s what you called my ex-husband?”

  “He’s a troll too. Anyway, Bradshaw asked if I could add the debate team onto my club sponsorships. The debate team? Really? I’m a math teacher, for fuck’s sake. What the hell do I know about debate?”

  “Maybe he likes the way you argue.”

  “Maybe he needs to kiss my ass.”

  “That’s an all-day job.”

  “You can kiss my ass, too.”

  She laughed. I’m so lucky to have her as my BFF. Our banter might sound mean to other people, but I had no doubt she would always have my back. One distressed phone call would bring her and her family to stand with me no matter what.

  I pulled out an unopened box of Little Debbie Swiss Rolls. I had another one of Zebra Cakes and Oatmeal Creme Pies in there as well. Her eyes lit up.

  “You gonna share? If I buy those things for the kids, the most I get is a sniff before they’re devoured by the voracious mob.”

  I ripped open the box, tearing off the lock tab in the process. They wouldn’t last long here either between the two of us horking them down. Besides that, there remained the potential of a juvenile or two in the hallway getting the scent and bringing the whole herd. “Knock yourself out.”

  I tossed her one double pack and tore open another for myself. Oooooh, yeah baby! Rich oversweet creamy chocolate goodness!

  “You coming to the game tonight?”

  “Probably not. I’m really beat, and I have the summons to deal with on Saturday.” I shoved an entire roll in my mouth and chomped down. The decadent flavor burst on my tongue, and I groaned with appreciation. The morning sickness had gone away and left me in a perpetual state of hunger. I alternated cravings between sweet and salty. Mostly sweet. I even kept a stash of snack cakes in my kitchen and on the nightstand in my bedroom. I wasn’t usually a dessert-eating person, but these days I couldn’t resist those uber-sugary sweet treats. Mattie and I had a lot in common for the time being.

  Beverly tore open her own pack. “Do you have to go to that vipers’ den?”

  I shifted the massive bite to one cheek before answering. “It’s easier to give in than argue. I tried skipping out before, and it took them years to get over it. I still hear about that one missed party even now. I’ll make my rounds to keep my mother happy, glad-hand a few people, avoid Magnus like the plague, and get the hell outta there. I figure two hours should do it, then I’m not obligated again until next year.” My words were garbled with the masticated wad I had in my mouth, but manners be damned. This was Little Debbie!

  “After the shitstorm last time you went there, I don’t want you to go by yourself.”

  I grinned at Bevvie’s mama bear face. “You wanna come with me? Maybe I’ll take Mattie and let him swim in the fountain. That would make Magnus’s head explode.”

  She rolled her eyes at me. “Mellie-Jellie, you are such a PITA.”

  I blew out a crumb-filled raspberry at her. “You love me.”

  “Yes, I do, but you’re still a big, fat PITA. I was thinking more on the lines of Owen.”

  “Owen? Why?”

  She dropped the wrapper in the trash can and ticked off her points finger by finger. “One, he’s big. Big enough no one will mess with him. Two, his quiet nature is intimidating when he wants it to be, and I’m sure he will want it to be at this shindig. Three, he’s protective of you. Four, it will make me feel a lot better knowing someone like him has your back for those two hours.”

  I swallowed the mass in my mouth, and my throat worked to get it down in one go. “So you’re saying Owen needs to be my plus one because it makes you feel good?”

  “Yes.”

  I wanted to laugh. I really did, but the sincerity on Bevvie’s face had me thinking. It wasn’t such a bad idea to have someone I liked go with me. I thought about it for a hot minute. Owen did look intimidating. He might not scare Magnus, but I bet he would keep the other vultures off me. She was also right in that he seemed protective of me. After my last disastrous family gathering, he’d given me a long hug when I showed up at the MacAteer house. He kept our hotel night secret between us, and I’d been around him enough times to be comfortable with him. In fact, when I was with him, I felt safe. More than that. I felt… I felt… fuck, I couldn’t examine that right now.

  I picked up my second roll, this time only biting half off so I could talk without looking like a chipmunk with packed cheeks. Still not great manners, but who cares? This was Little Debbie, after all. “I suppose I could ask him, but do you really think he’d go? It’s a lot to ask for someone to face my family. Maybe he’s putting up with me only because I’m the super cool godmother to your children.”

  She eyed the open box of remaining Swiss Rolls. “No, he really does like you. He’s just shy and uh… well....”

  Her hesitation put my Spidey senses on guard. I handed her another pack of the snack cakes. “Something wrong with him?”

  She waved off the second treat, even though I knew she wanted it. “No, nothing is wrong with him.” She sighe
d and propped a round hip on my desk. “It’s not a secret, per se, but he’s kinda sensitive about it. Owen has a speech problem that didn’t get fixed when he was younger. You might have noticed he communicates more in words, not sentences? Sometimes reversing sounds? The occasional stammer? He’s an extremely intelligent man, he just has a speaking issue with some people.”

  I blinked. “Me in particular?”

  “Not you in particular. He used to have that problem with me and the kids until he got to know us. I think once he gets relaxed and in a comfortable situation, the speech problem goes away or at least doesn’t happen as much.”

  I swallowed the last of the cake and licked the chocolate scraps from the cardboard. “Well, he’s been talking to me in complete sentences for some time now.”

  Surprise showed on Bevvie’s face. “He’s been talking to you?”

  “Yes, and with a fair amount of articulation. Whole sentences and everything.” I gave in and opened another package of sugary bliss and handed one of the two rolls to a drooling Bevvie. It’s not so bad if we split a package. Right? “We teachers are trained on how to work with anyone. Speech problem? Puh. I noticed a few odd words, but there’s nothing off-putting about it. Certainly nothing hard to handle.”

  She bit off the end of the roll. “I’m glad you two are getting along. He’s a hard nut to crack, but he will eventually. I hope you do take him with you this weekend. You’ll never find another man to have your back like a MacAteer man. I swear it’s in their DNA.”

  “Ewww, gross, Mom!” Abby walked into my classroom in a long skirt and T-shirt that sported a giant tie-dyed peace symbol. “Do you realize how many chemicals and toxins are in that thing?”

  Bevvie popped the rest of the cake in her mouth and chewed with overzealous relish. “Yes, and they’re sooooo yummylicious!”

  “Ugh! You’re eating poison.”

  “Says the girl with a secret stash of Twinkies under her bed.”

  “Mom!”

  “Don’t deny it. I found the wrappers in the trash.”