Mission Petty Revenge accomplished.
Peals of childish laughter drew BJ’s attention to a group of pre-teen girls playing with Pete near the new playscape. “I can’t believe you trust those kids anywhere near the rug rat.”
Megan temper flared.. “He’s not a rug rat; he’s a knee-nibbler. Don’t you know anything?” she said through gritted teeth.
BJ stifled a smile. “Educate me. What’s the difference?”
“It’s all a matter of perspective. Rug rats don’t do much, ankle-biters crawl, knee-nibblers toddle and turn into crumb-snatchers.” She pointed to her son. “That knee-nibbler has a name and you know it. Sometimes I call him PJ, but usually he’s Pete. Those kids are in the babysitting certification program. They’re great with him. And he loves them. I want him to be comfortable around all kinds of people without judging them.”
BJ chose to ignore her innuendo. “So, he’s a junior too.”
“Yeah, Peter Jak Smith, Jr. Not that there’s a Peter Jak Smith, Sr. anymore, so I don’t know if...never mind. It doesn’t take a genius to figure out you don’t like being called Junior. Is your J for junior or does your middle name start with J?”
“My middle name’s Mathias. Being called BJ has had its moments, but BM would have been a total disaster, especially with my brothers. So it’s BJ, all caps, no periods, Brian, Jr. And if you promise not to tell, sometimes people who claim to be my friends call me Master Yoda.”
“That seems random. Why?”
“The way the school secretary alphabetized the student roster, I was Tobin, Junior, Brian M. Brother Samuel was a Star Wars freak. Chemistry class was a riot.”
“School must have been hell for you,” Megan’s voice dripped with sarcasm.
“You have no idea,” BJ shot back. “But like I said, only two people, Mom and Dad, get to call me Junior. Everyone else calls me BJ, never Brian. I always think people are talking to my dad when they say Brian. I’ll answer to Tobin before I’ll answer to Brian. And I hate being called Tobin more than I hate being called Junior.” Tobin had been what Father Clancy had called him. Father Clancy. Why, after all these years, had that name popped into his head?
“I’ve heard the name Tobin a time or two. You’d have to be from Mars not to. It’s in the tabloids and online gossip blogs often enough. So you’re Tobin International?”
BJ snorted. “I own stock in Tobin International and let Dad vote my proxy, but there isn’t much love lost between Dad and his brother, Seamus. The family has been gobbling up smaller companies for years, pretty much everything from A to Z. I get updates every now and then, but I can’t keep up with it all. If I’m interested, which I rarely am, I Google a company to find out if they’re ours, but basically, I don’t care. As long as the trust fund check doesn’t bounce, I’m good.”
He winced at the pain he saw flash across Megan’s face. He’d done it again. Why was he so clumsy around her? Why was he always saying or doing something that hurt her? He regrouped and babbled on to cover. “But from the look on your face, I’m guessing you’re talking about my cousin Serena who has never been serene a day in her life. They made me hold her for pictures too. I should’ve dropped her on her head. I would have been doing the world a favor. I haven’t seen her since our grandfather’s funeral. She didn’t stick around for the wake, which was a shame because it was a damned good party. I have exactly two cousins; we call them the beauty and the beast. And they both consider us the bad seed. Go figure.”
“Where does Clausen Construction fit it?”
“That’s Mom’s side of the family. Huge commercial projects, hospitals, desalinization plants, sports complexes, stuff like that. Everyone in Mom’s family hates Dad and by extension us. That’s probably why William put us together. He must’ve heard about our argument and did this to torture me.”
And it was working. Being so near her and not being able to touch her was driving him crazy. Later. Churches were notorious for out-of-the-way nooks and crannies that could provide a few minutes of privacy. It wouldn’t be the first time.
There it was again. The column of pitch-black smoke, this time with an odd puff of white. The specter rose and vanished before he could grasp it.
“About our argument,” Megan paused to take a deep breath before continuing. “I said most of that stuff to annoy you. I’m sorry. But you have to admit, you baited me.”
BJ broke into a full grin. This was going to be easier than he thought, and it was about damn time something came easy around her. “You’re right, I did. You got so mad so fast, it was kinda fun to see how far I could go. You have no idea the last time I had an intelligent conversation with a woman who wasn’t my mother. It was kinda hot. I’m sorry I made you so angry. Peace?” BJ held out his hand and waited.
Megan looked at his hand, then back at him. “Hot? Hm. And it was fun, but let’s never do it again, promise?” She took his hand and shook.
The heat that engulfed him threatened to suck the air out of his lungs and made him believe that spontaneous human combustion was a real possibility.
“Peace.” She sounded as shaky as he felt.
BJ’s stomach flipped with the simple handshake, but it faded as soon as she dropped his hand. Damn, she’s amazing. And smart. And so distant. For now. BJ was used to getting what he wanted from women. Being sequestered in a private, all-male academy hadn’t dampened his success with the ladies. And then... BJ’s stomach flipped for an entirely different reason.
A flash. What was it? It could have been a face, but it had come and gone too fast. Could it have been a smell? Anchovies? He shook off a sudden chill and pulled up his best follow me to my bedroom smile. “I never say never, and I don’t make promises. It’s safer that way.”
Then why, all of a sudden, didn’t he feel safe?
CHAPTER 22
I should have brought a change of clothes. She was going to have to remind the girls to make sure the tape on a diaper was secure. As much as that would help in the future, it wouldn’t help her now. She was drenched. What was it Ethan had called it? Unholy baptism. At least Pete hadn’t baptized her bra.
“This is the only shirt I could find, Miss Megan. And I’m sorry about the diaper coming off. I’ll do better next time.”
Megan finished cleaning herself up and took the shirt. “It’s okay, Jasmine, I know you’ll do better next time. We learn best from our mistakes. The first time Mr. Ethan changed Pete’s diaper, he got messy too, but it was brown instead of yellow.”
She made a silly face to put the teenager at ease. “Remember, babies are a lot of work and responsibility. They’re expensive, and you’re going to need a good job to give any baby you might have someday what he or she needs. Have a life before you have a baby. You have...” She pulled the shirt over her head and was immediately surrounded by him. His lingering aroma wrapped itself around her from her neck to caress her butt. The shirt had left his body hours ago, but she felt his warmth encase her. “Jazz, who’s shirt is this?”
“There was a blond guy talking to Mr. Ethan. He said you could use it.”
She didn’t need confirmation that it was BJ’s shirt, but it was nice to know Jasmine had asked permission to borrow it. Besides learning how to properly diaper a baby, it was one of the things they were working on. Like saying no to the many temptations that were all too common in this neighborhood.
Another thing they were working on was developing her self-esteem. “Help me fix my hair? You do such a good job with it. I always feel pretty when you’re done. Then we’ll get some lunch.”
Goosebumps covered Megan as soon as Jazz touched her head. Megan closed her eyes and let Jazz’s strong, sure fingers weave a magic spell as she deftly twisted Megan’s hair into an elaborate braid that would have taken Megan hours, if not days, to figure out. Jazz was done in less than two minutes.
“That felt so good. I’m sorry it didn’t last longer.”
Jazz laughed. “You say that every time, Miss Megan.”
> Was she so starved for physical contact that having her hair done could give her such an intense feeling of well-being? Sadly, yes. Other than brotherly hugs and baby cuddles, the last time she’d felt pleasure from a simple touch was from the baptism pictures. Before that? The morning she’d gone into labor when Smitty had kissed her good-bye before leaving for work.
Mere hours before he’d died.
* * *
CHAPTER 23
“Whoa, dude, she looks way better in that shirt than you ever did.”
BJ kicked Quinn under the table to shut him up. The idiot had never learned how to whisper. BJ was sure Quinn’s put-down had been aimed at him, but his brother’s comment had been loud enough for Megan to hear. The oaf had embarrassed Megan instead, and now she was blushing.
“I’d say rose.”
BJ kicked his brother again, this time much harder, hoping he’d get the message to shut the hell up. It wouldn’t silence him for long, but every minute without hearing that annoying voice was a good one. How the asshole had been voted one of the sexiest newsmen on the internet was beyond him.
What bothered BJ about Quinn? Well, basically everything, but at this particular moment, it irked him to no end that Quinn was right. But what really frosted his flakes? The moron had stolen the line he was going to use. There was no escaping the Tobin sense of humor the old man had passed down to him and his brothers. It was genetic, but BJ couldn’t decide whether or not that gene was defective. Right now, he was leaning toward defective. He stood to help her into her chair.
“As much as it pains me to admit it,” Good God, I’m starting to sound like Dad, “my little brother’s right. You do look way better in my shirt than I ever did. I love the little flower thing on your hip. I wish I’d thought of that.”
Wow, did she hit cerise? Having something other than the old man’s anger to use the red scale for was a pleasant change.
Megan set her plate on the table and let BJ help her settle in. “Thank you. Jasmine, the girl who borrowed your shirt, used one of my hair ties to make it. She has a real talent for that kind of stuff. We’re trying to get her into the technical education program for fashion and design, but she’d have to ride a city bus for nearly two hours each way, and I don’t want a fourteen-year-old standing at a bus stop alone at five a.m.”
She pulled her hot dog out of its bun, and BJ thought he’d lose his damned mind as her lips wrapped around the unclad tube steak.
He needed to get his shit together.
“Why doesn’t she move to a closer neighborhood?” To BJ, it seemed like a logical solution.
Megan swallowed her bite of hot dog. “She has three brothers. Finding a foster placement for four siblings is nearly impossible. It was difficult enough for Ethan and me to stay together; moving a family of four would be like orchestrating a kindergarten Christmas pageant.”
BJ still didn’t see a problem. “If it’s important, I’m sure the right donation to the right person would make it happen.” Throwing money at a situation was his go-to response for all challenges. It had prevented his driver’s license from being suspended and kept Baby Blue from being impounded, why wouldn’t it work for this?
“I don’t have the energy for another argument, but if you’re offering, I’m listening. But make it fast because I’m tired and sore, and all I want to do is go home and soak in the tub for hours.”
Yikes! That didn’t quite go as he’d expected. Time to send in the clowns. “Need company in that tub?
The look she shot him frosted more than his flakes.
BJ had never met a woman like her. Translation: a woman who didn’t immediately jump at his offer of companionship.
Game on.
CHAPTER 24
“He flushed the condom down the toilet which flooded his bathroom, so he bolted buck-ass naked across the hall into my room and grabbed all the underwear out of my drawer to sop up the mess. And I wasn’t alone. Needless to say, it shattered my mojo. Anyway, water dripped down into the media room and onto Dad’s head. That’s when the fun started.”
Damn, Quinn Tobin was loud, but then he had to be if she was going to hear him over the laughter swamping her in waves. Waves that hit so hard, she could barely breathe. But what made it funnier was the embarrassment BJ struggled—and failed—to conceal. Maybe the man wasn’t arrogance personified.
BJ defended himself. “I couldn’t very well use my underwear; she was still in my bed. Streaking to my drawer in a panic wouldn’t have been cool.”
“Trust me, bro, you were anything but cool that day, especially when Dad stormed into your room and was accosted by a naked teenager who was expecting you. He hit wine in record time that day,” Riley teased.
“And for once, I wasn’t the target,” Shane shook his head. “Then you all tried to blame it all on me, as usual. I was seven. I had no idea what a condom was, and I’d never seen a naked girl. Well, unless you count the time Mom stripped us and tossed us all into the pool with Steppie after the skunk incident.”
BJ shook his head and glared at his youngest brother. “Still not buying the ‘I thought it was a kitty’ excuse.”
Shane shrugged, picked up his plastic cup, and raised it as if toasting. “Prove it.” He downed what was left in his cup with one long slurp.
Oh, God, these men were killing her. Megan brushed a happy tear from her cheek. “What does wine have to do with anything?” she managed to say between snorts.
BJ draped his arm across the back of her chair so casually, it barely registered. “Dad’s temper is legendary. The madder he gets, the redder he turns. Mom’s personal assistant, the housekeeper, and the cook were all in on it. We’d get home from school, and one of them would yell, ‘cerise’ or ‘claret’ or some other shade of red. Wine is the highest, but anything over garnet means seek shelter immediately because a Dadnado touchdown was imminent.”
She wiped another tear of mirth off her cheek. BJ could make a rampaging father sound hilarious. Listening to the teasing and the insults Tobin brothers hurled back and forth was more fun than she’d had in months. Some of the taunts were a little rough, but she could tell they loved each other. This was a family. Something she and Ethan had never had. Now, they were building their own families, but the lonely little girl inside of her ached to be part of something bigger. And the massive wall of Tobin men surrounding her certainly qualified as bigger.
“So, you’re telling me your father is a blowhard. I can clearly see that quality in Quinn.”
As she expected, Quinn scowled at her as he took an aggressive bite of his hot dog while Shane, Riley, and Knox howled with raucous laughter. But why did BJ grimace as he stared into his plate, pushing his potato salad into a neat square?
Megan and Pete had stayed with Ethan and Stephanie when she’d first gotten out of the hospital. Stephanie had made that exact shape one day while listening to Pete cry. It had been one of their first and most violent disagreements. Stephanie had her own baby to cuddle and coddle now. If she wanted to rush to Kegan every time she whimpered, that was her right. But Pete was her baby; her rules applied.
But what had she said that had compelled BJ to mold his potatoes like he was having his own personal Close Encounter of the Third Kind? Given what she knew about their relationship, BJ should have laughed the hardest at her jab. Maybe the Tobins were the kind of family who would happily shred each other to pieces in private but join ranks to fend off attacks from outsiders.
And she was the most out of outsiders.
“Megan, I think I love you. Elope with me to Vegas?” Riley said.
“Back off, bro. She’s mine!” Shane claimed. “Anyone who can shut Quinn up is a keeper. Riley is offering Vegas, but wouldn’t you rather have a beachside ceremony in Maui?”
“Maui is so overdone,” Knox chimed in. “I’m thinking exchanging vows in the canopy over a Peruvian rainforest would be the most romantic.”
Wow, they really were competitive. But BJ and Quinn remained silent. Qui
nn she expected. But BJ? That didn’t make any sense. What was going on?
* * *
BJ finished the sides of his potato salad raft and gently pressed hash marks on the top like it was a peanut butter cookie.
Father.
How could one simple word turn everything upside down? Yeah, his old man could be a royal pain in the ass from time to time, but nowhere near the sinister specter that had announced itself and disappeared in a flash, taking all the day’s warmth and sunshine with it. Damn, he wanted to crawl into one of the holes waiting for the playscape footings. And pull the dirt in behind him.
William took the seat on the other side of Megan. She scooched her chair away from the little twerp, and, as luck would have it, closer to him. Her thigh brushed against his, chasing away the chill. Her simple, chaste touch soothed him. He assaulted his potato salad raft and shoved the bite into his mouth, chewing until he could force himself to swallow. It might as well have been a clump of dead grass as it scratched its way down his throat and assaulted his stomach.
Even the daiquiri he washed it down with didn’t help.
“Don’t move away, sweetheart; I don’t bite. Unless you want me to.”
His cousin’s braying sent waves of revulsion through him. Was William trying to put the moves on Megan?
His grip tightened around the fork in his hand. How far could he shove it into William’s thick skull before the flimsy plastic snapped under the force? Or he could aim for William’s soft, flabby neck.
There it was again. The unexplained, unfocused anger that attacked every time Megan was near. It was almost as if she was pulling something out of him. Something painful and poisonous. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge existed. As long as whatever it was stayed deep, he could pretend it wasn’t there. But whatever it was, it didn’t want to be ignored any longer.
Fly Boy: A Friends to Lovers Standalone Romance (Tobin Tribe Book 2) Page 9
