Happy Ever After
Page 58
“Just wanted to muss you up again.” He took her hand, pulled her out.
Relieved to find the kitchen empty, she nudged, pushed, shoved him at the door.
“I feel so used,” he said, and made her laugh even as she gave him a last push.
“Go play poker. Be lucky.”
“Got my lucky charm right here.” He patted the pocket holding her panties.
When her mouth dropped open again, his laughter rolled through the damp autumn air. “See you, Legs.”
She made a dash for her room, then couldn’t resist detouring to the window, looking out. She saw him change direction, walk to Mac’s to speak with a man—a boy?—who’d just come out.
They talked for a moment, exchanged fist bumps. Then the boy climbed into a compact, gunned the engine, and drove off as Malcolm backtracked to his truck.
She jolted when she heard the step behind her, and turned to see Mrs. Grady. “Oh.” And mortified to feel heat rise to her cheeks, Parker cleared her throat.
“Hmm,” was all the housekeeper said.“You certainly kept him company.”
“Ha. Well . . . Um, do you know who that boy was, over at Mac’s? Malcolm seemed to know him.”
“Well, he should as the boy works for Malcolm. Can’t read,” she added, “or only enough to skim by. Mal asked Carter to tutor the boy.”
“I see.” She stood there, looking out through the thin rain. Just when she thought she had a grip on the man, she found yet another angle, another layer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“IN THE UTILITY ROOM.” IN HER PAJAMAS, SPRAWLED ON THE SOFA OF the family room, Mac stared up at the ceiling.“Parker Brown of the Connecticut Browns doing the wild thing in the utility room.”
“We were animals.”
“Now she’s bragging,” Laurel commented and bit into a slice of pizza.
“And I like it.”
“Let me say congratulations, but really, I’m just in love with him taking you to his mom’s for dinner.” Emma topped off wine-glasses. “And being so obviously weirded out by it.”
“It should be interesting.”
“What I want to know is, can he fix small appliances? One of my stand mixers is acting hinky.”
Parker glanced at Laurel. “Ask him. He seems to like fixing things. Which brings me to him asking Carter to tutor that boy. When did that start?”
“Last month,” Mac told her. “Carter says Glen’s really coming along. He’s got him reading Carrie.”
Emma swallowed hard. “You mean pig-blood-at-the-prom Carrie?”
“Carter found out Glen likes horror flicks, and he’s seen the movie a bunch of times, so Carter thought he’d like reading the book. And it’s working.”
“That’s smart,” Parker commented.“A really good way to show someone how to read for fun, that it’s not just work, not just studying or a chore, but fun.”
“Yeah. Carter . . . he’s just good, you know?” Mac’s face went soft with a smile. “So patient and insightful and innately kind without being sticky about it. I think some people, like him, are lucky to end up doing what they were born to do. And the rest of us benefit from that.”
“Like us. I really believe we’re doing what we were born to do,” Emma added. “That’s what makes it more than a business—like teaching is more than a job to Carter.We make a lot of people happy, but one of the reasons—beyond, ‘hey we’re just that good’—is because what we’re doing makes us happy.”
“Here’s to us.” Laurel lifted her glass. “Happy, hot, sexually satisfied, and just that damn good.”
“I’ll drink a whole lot to that,” Mac said.
Parker acknowledged the toast, started to drink.And her phone rang. “Oh well, I’ll just step out and be happy. Be right back.”
“Okay,” Mac said the minute Parker was out of the room. “What do we think?”
“I think their chemistry is off the charts,” Laurel answered. “And that they’ve each got an emotional hook deep in the other. A man with Mal’s kind of edge and ’tude doesn’t fumble his way through a dinner at his mother’s unless it matters.”
“Because when Mom’s important—and Mal’s is to him—it’s a step. It takes it up a level.” Mac nodded.“If he didn’t want it to go up a level, he’d have found a way to back his mother off.”
“It’s sweet it makes him nervous,” Emma added, “because yes, it matters. Both these women matter. You know, my sense is he faces things head-on.The way he told Del straight off he was interested in Parker.The way he brought up the money-status deal to Parker when they first got physical. It’s lay it out there and deal. Kind of his default. So I don’t think much makes him nervous.”
“What I see?” Mac contemplated another slice of pizza. “I see two strong, confident, I-can-fix-it personalities not only trying to figure out the vulnerabilities of being in love, but the risks and the potential outcomes. Basically? I think they’re perfect for each other.”
“Yes! So do I.” Emma glanced toward the doorway. “But it’s not the time to tell her that. She’s not there yet.”
“Neither’s he,” Laurel commented. “I wonder which one of them will get there first.”
MAL RAKED IN THE POT. THE FINAL CARD TURNED HAD GIFTED HIM with a very pretty full house—queens over eights—which left Jack’s ace-high straight in the dust.
“You’re awful damn lucky tonight, Kavanaugh.”
Mal stacked his chips and got a flash of Parker, the utility room, and the tattered white lace in the back pocket of his jeans.
Pal, he thought, if you only knew.
“Brought it in with me,” he said, and smiled as he took a pull of his beer.
“How about passing some around.” Rod, one of the poker night regulars, scowled as he tossed in his next ante.“I’ve had crap all night.”
“Don’t worry. This next hand’ll clean you out. Then you can just watch the rest of us.”
“You’re a cold bastard, Brown.”
“No heartstrings to pluck in poker.”
Mal tossed in his own ante. The thing about Del, he thought, was the man was merciless at the table. Probably much the same in court, though Mal had never seen him work. But under it? A whole different engine hummed.
Relieved to find the kitchen empty, she nudged, pushed, shoved him at the door.
“I feel so used,” he said, and made her laugh even as she gave him a last push.
“Go play poker. Be lucky.”
“Got my lucky charm right here.” He patted the pocket holding her panties.
When her mouth dropped open again, his laughter rolled through the damp autumn air. “See you, Legs.”
She made a dash for her room, then couldn’t resist detouring to the window, looking out. She saw him change direction, walk to Mac’s to speak with a man—a boy?—who’d just come out.
They talked for a moment, exchanged fist bumps. Then the boy climbed into a compact, gunned the engine, and drove off as Malcolm backtracked to his truck.
She jolted when she heard the step behind her, and turned to see Mrs. Grady. “Oh.” And mortified to feel heat rise to her cheeks, Parker cleared her throat.
“Hmm,” was all the housekeeper said.“You certainly kept him company.”
“Ha. Well . . . Um, do you know who that boy was, over at Mac’s? Malcolm seemed to know him.”
“Well, he should as the boy works for Malcolm. Can’t read,” she added, “or only enough to skim by. Mal asked Carter to tutor the boy.”
“I see.” She stood there, looking out through the thin rain. Just when she thought she had a grip on the man, she found yet another angle, another layer.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
“IN THE UTILITY ROOM.” IN HER PAJAMAS, SPRAWLED ON THE SOFA OF the family room, Mac stared up at the ceiling.“Parker Brown of the Connecticut Browns doing the wild thing in the utility room.”
“We were animals.”
“Now she’s bragging,” Laurel commented and bit into a slice of pizza.
“And I like it.”
“Let me say congratulations, but really, I’m just in love with him taking you to his mom’s for dinner.” Emma topped off wine-glasses. “And being so obviously weirded out by it.”
“It should be interesting.”
“What I want to know is, can he fix small appliances? One of my stand mixers is acting hinky.”
Parker glanced at Laurel. “Ask him. He seems to like fixing things. Which brings me to him asking Carter to tutor that boy. When did that start?”
“Last month,” Mac told her. “Carter says Glen’s really coming along. He’s got him reading Carrie.”
Emma swallowed hard. “You mean pig-blood-at-the-prom Carrie?”
“Carter found out Glen likes horror flicks, and he’s seen the movie a bunch of times, so Carter thought he’d like reading the book. And it’s working.”
“That’s smart,” Parker commented.“A really good way to show someone how to read for fun, that it’s not just work, not just studying or a chore, but fun.”
“Yeah. Carter . . . he’s just good, you know?” Mac’s face went soft with a smile. “So patient and insightful and innately kind without being sticky about it. I think some people, like him, are lucky to end up doing what they were born to do. And the rest of us benefit from that.”
“Like us. I really believe we’re doing what we were born to do,” Emma added. “That’s what makes it more than a business—like teaching is more than a job to Carter.We make a lot of people happy, but one of the reasons—beyond, ‘hey we’re just that good’—is because what we’re doing makes us happy.”
“Here’s to us.” Laurel lifted her glass. “Happy, hot, sexually satisfied, and just that damn good.”
“I’ll drink a whole lot to that,” Mac said.
Parker acknowledged the toast, started to drink.And her phone rang. “Oh well, I’ll just step out and be happy. Be right back.”
“Okay,” Mac said the minute Parker was out of the room. “What do we think?”
“I think their chemistry is off the charts,” Laurel answered. “And that they’ve each got an emotional hook deep in the other. A man with Mal’s kind of edge and ’tude doesn’t fumble his way through a dinner at his mother’s unless it matters.”
“Because when Mom’s important—and Mal’s is to him—it’s a step. It takes it up a level.” Mac nodded.“If he didn’t want it to go up a level, he’d have found a way to back his mother off.”
“It’s sweet it makes him nervous,” Emma added, “because yes, it matters. Both these women matter. You know, my sense is he faces things head-on.The way he told Del straight off he was interested in Parker.The way he brought up the money-status deal to Parker when they first got physical. It’s lay it out there and deal. Kind of his default. So I don’t think much makes him nervous.”
“What I see?” Mac contemplated another slice of pizza. “I see two strong, confident, I-can-fix-it personalities not only trying to figure out the vulnerabilities of being in love, but the risks and the potential outcomes. Basically? I think they’re perfect for each other.”
“Yes! So do I.” Emma glanced toward the doorway. “But it’s not the time to tell her that. She’s not there yet.”
“Neither’s he,” Laurel commented. “I wonder which one of them will get there first.”
MAL RAKED IN THE POT. THE FINAL CARD TURNED HAD GIFTED HIM with a very pretty full house—queens over eights—which left Jack’s ace-high straight in the dust.
“You’re awful damn lucky tonight, Kavanaugh.”
Mal stacked his chips and got a flash of Parker, the utility room, and the tattered white lace in the back pocket of his jeans.
Pal, he thought, if you only knew.
“Brought it in with me,” he said, and smiled as he took a pull of his beer.
“How about passing some around.” Rod, one of the poker night regulars, scowled as he tossed in his next ante.“I’ve had crap all night.”
“Don’t worry. This next hand’ll clean you out. Then you can just watch the rest of us.”
“You’re a cold bastard, Brown.”
“No heartstrings to pluck in poker.”
Mal tossed in his own ante. The thing about Del, he thought, was the man was merciless at the table. Probably much the same in court, though Mal had never seen him work. But under it? A whole different engine hummed.
