by Cathie Linz
“The apartment I had in Warsaw when I was your age was small. This is twice as large. Three times. Is this attitude of yours because of the girl next door? Your new neighbor?” Not giving him a chance to reply, she continued, “She seems nice. You should date her. You’re not getting any younger, you know.”
His grandmother was aging him by the second.
Connor put his arm around her and teased her. “You know I’m not the marrying kind.”
“Pshaw.” She smacked him. “You’re no bargain, but I’m sure we can find someone to put up with you.”
“Gee, thanks.”
“You would prefer we think you are God’s gift to women?” she countered.
“Yeah.”
“Fine.” She patted his arm. “You are a gift to women but you still need to settle down with one of them. And the one next door looks nice.”
“You met her and barely exchanged two words,” he said.
“I have a sixth sense about these things.” His grandmother fixed him with her laser-like stare. “What do you know about her?”
“She’s the town librarian.”
“Ah, this is good.” His grandmother nodded her approval. “This is good, yes, Wanda?”
“Yes, that is good,” his mom agreed, opening his fridge and staring at the pitiful contents in dismay. “You need a keeper, Connor.”
“I wasn’t expecting company.”
His mother straightened and glared at him. “We are family. Not company.”
“Right.”
“It’s a good thing we brought food,” she said.
They always brought food. Delicious hearty food. But today they hadn’t traveled from their brick bungalow on the South Side of Chicago where they could cook up a storm. Today they’d traveled from Hershey. “Did you bring chocolate?” he asked.
“Of course. But tell us about your neighbor. You never mentioned you had a pretty librarian living next door.”
“She only recently moved in,” he said.
“How recently?” his mom asked.
That was the first of what felt like a thousand questions. His relatives’ inquisition tactics would make the most seasoned cop proud and the hardest criminal crack.
Connor kept his responses vague. He’d been an undercover cop. He knew how to lie. How to deceive. How to keep his cool.
But it was harder than he expected.
Later that evening, Connor was out on his balcony, his back to his apartment as he spoke into his cell phone.
“What’s with the whispering, bro?” his older brother Logan asked.
“Mom and GM are here,” Connor said. “Without warning. Staying until the weekend. It’s only Tuesday. We’re talking days.”
“Damn. That’s deserving of a 911 call.”
“What am I going to do with them?”
“Hell if I know.”
“Stop laughing,” Connor growled. “This isn’t funny.”
“Not to you maybe. Are you afraid they’re gonna turn your man cave into a mom cave?”
“I don’t have a man cave,” Connor said. “And stop laughing.”
“Why should I? You always laugh when I’m in trouble.”
“That’s not true,” Connor denied. “Only when you’re in relationship trouble.”
“Bingo.”
“And not during your divorce.”
“Damn straight.”
“How long did it take you to get over that situation?” Connor said.
“You mean walking in and finding my wife in bed with an EMT?”
“Yeah that.”
“Why do you want to know?” Logan asked suspiciously. “Did your girlfriend cheat on you?”
“I’m between relationships at the moment,” Connor said.
“Did you cheat on someone?”
“No. I’m asking on behalf of a friend.”
“A friend, huh? Likely story.”
“It’s the truth,” Connor said.
“Yeah right.”
“So how long did it take?”
“I can’t put a time limit on it. Everyone is different. Is that friend you’re asking for a male or female?” Logan asked.
“A female.”
“Well, hell. That changes everything,” Logan said. “You know how women are.”
“Yeah.”
“So who is she?” Logan demanded.
“Nobody.”
“I thought you said she was a friend.”
“I was just curious, that’s all,” Connor said.
“About a woman who is just a friend?”
“What?” Connor countered. “You don’t think men and women can be just friends?”
“Sure. I’m friends with Delgado, my partner. We work well together.”
“That’s just peachy for you both,” Connor said sarcastically. His brother was not supplying much moral support here.
“But you are different.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve been friends with plenty of women.”
“Yeah, you have,” Logan agreed. “But you haven’t been curious about them or their recovery from a bad situation. Makes me wonder what your real motive is.”
“Put your detective hat away and focus on how I’m supposed to deal with Mom and GM,” Connor said.
“Hey, you’re the one who brought up this mystery woman.”
“I got her a pizza to make her feel better and she shoved it in my face,” Connor said abruptly.
Logan laughed. “I would have loved to see that. I like this woman already. What’s her name?”
“None of your damn business.”
“That’s a strange name. But hey, her mom must have had her reasons for calling her that.”
“Very funny,” Connor growled.
“Yeah, you are. Gotta go.”
His brother hung up before Connor could protest. Swearing under his breath, he turned to find Marissa on her balcony, a few feet away. It was just past twilight but there was enough residual light from inside that he could see the grin on her face.
“How much of that did you hear?” Connor demanded.
“Enough.”
“How much is enough?”
“Put your detective hat away,” she retorted.
“What are you doing out here?” his mother demanded after opening the sliding glass door. She turned to face Marissa. “Oh, you’re having a secret rendezvous with Marissa.”
“Who is having a secret rendezvous?” his grandmother demanded as she joined them. “Ah…” She said it with all-knowing wisdom. “You two don’t have to meet in secret like this. Marissa, come on over. We’ll have some coffee and talk.”
“I can’t,” Marissa said.
“Of course you can. I insist. Tell her.” His grandmother smacked his arm.
“Tell her what?”
“He’s pouting because we broke into your rendezvous,” his mother said.
“Does he pout a lot?” Marissa asked.
He could tell she was having entirely too much fun with his obvious discomfort.
“Come over and I’ll tell you,” he countered, daring her to say yes.
“I don’t want to intrude,” Marissa said.
“You won’t be,” his mother assured her. “But you will hurt my feelings if you refuse my invitation.”
Damn. Connor knew Marissa was too polite to say no. His mom knew that, too, which is why she’d worded it that way. She always told him he got his smarts from her and not his father.
His mom sent him into the kitchen to make coffee, saying she couldn’t deal with his antiquated coffeemaker. When she’d checked out the contents of his fridge, she’d also checked out the small appliances.
Meanwhile, she set out chocolate she’d bought in Hershey before opening the door for Marissa.
“Welcome. Thank you for coming. We didn’t make formal introductions before. My name is Wanda and my mother’s name is Sophie.”
“You can call me Grandma Sophie,” the older woman said.
Wanda pointed to the pla
te of chocolate. “We just came from Hershey, Pennsylvania. Have you ever been there?”
“No.”
“Sit, sit.” His mom pulled out a chair for her. The instant she was seated, the questions began.
“So tell us about yourself, Marissa,” his mom said.
“You don’t have to do that,” he hurriedly told Marissa.
His mom glared at him. “Then we’ll just tell you about Connor instead.”
“She’s not interested.”
“How do you know?”
Connor shoved a hand through his hair. “I know, okay?”
“Tell us about your parents, Marissa. Do they live nearby?”
“Yes, they live here in Hopeful. I grew up here. My dad is a history professor at the local college. My mom worked as a part-time bookkeeper while I was growing up but she quit so she could take my sister to school swim meets.”
“Is your sister older or younger?”
“Younger.”
“Any more siblings?”
“No that’s it.”
“Does she live here in Hopeful, too?”
Marissa nodded.
“It must be nice living so close to your family.” She sent Connor a telling look, the kind of guilt-inducing stare that only a mother could perfect. “It’s so hard when your child lives so far away. We live in Chicago, where Connor grew up.”
“Logan still lives in Chicago,” he said.
“Is it wrong to want all my sons at the table for Sunday dinners as we did for all those years?” his mother demanded.
Not wrong, he thought to himself. But not realistic either. “I live closer to you than Aidan does. Hopeful is closer to Chicago than Seattle.”
Marissa had to resist smiling at Connor’s discomfiture. She hadn’t wanted to come over and planned on making a quick excuse and departing, but she had to admit that seeing him getting the third degree by his mom made her feel good. Let him see how it felt to be the one under the microscope for a change. She decided to stay and enjoy the show.
“I’m sure being so far away must be very hard on you,” she told his mom, clearly indicating that she sided with her in the discussion.
“It is.”
“You must miss him terribly.”
“I do.”
“And a son should really look after his mother, right?” Marissa said.
“Absolutely. That’s how I raised him. That’s how I raised all three of my sons. It wasn’t easy being a single mom.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t.”
“And they weren’t the easiest boys to handle.”
“I can only imagine,” Marissa said.
“I don’t know if you realize how stubborn Connor can be.”
“Actually, I have noticed that.”
“He got that trait from his father. All my sons did.”
“I’m sure that made raising them even more challenging,” Marissa said.
“It did. I did the best I could,” his mom said.
“I’m sure you did.”
“Hey, we didn’t turn out that bad,” Connor said defensively. “Most moms would be proud to have three police officers in the family.”
“I wanted you to be a doctor,” his mom said. “I wanted you all to be doctors. But did you listen to me? No, of course not. Instead you follow in your father’s footsteps.”
“I’m sure Marissa doesn’t want to hear all this,” he said.
“Sure I do. Go on,” she encouraged his mother.
“I gave all my sons St. Michael the Archangel medallions. St. Michael is the patron saint of the police,” his mom said.
“I didn’t know that,” Marissa said.
“What do you know about Polish chocolate?” his grandmother asked her.
“Not much,” Marissa admitted.
“Mom, you know that the Belgians and Swiss are better known for their chocolate than Poland,” Connor’s mother said.
Their quibbling continued, allowing Connor to sidle closer to Marissa and whisper, “Quick, make a break for it while you can.”
She stared at him in confusion.
He tilted his head toward the door. “Save yourself.”
Marissa might have been able to do that had she not cracked up instead, drawing his family’s attention away from chocolate and back to her.
“What’s so funny?” his mother asked. “Was Connor telling you a joke? He’s really good at that.”
“Maybe he was whispering sweet nothings in her ear,” his grandmother said.
“He’s really good at that, too,” his mom said. “He’s a real ladies’ man.”
Connor rolled his eyes.
“His brother Logan does that eye roll thing, too,” his mom said. “Not that I let them get away with that when they were younger. It was a sign of disrespect and I wouldn’t stand for that.”
“Me neither,” his grandmother said.
“But now that he’s over thirty I let him get away with the eye roll every now and again,” his mom said.
“What was he like when he was younger?” Marissa asked.
“He was a very good baby. Smiled all the time. Let me show you.”
“No, Mom…” Connor said.
But it was too late. His mother had already reached into her huge bag and pulled out the small photo book she brought with her everywhere.
“I have one of these for each of my three sons,” she said proudly. “Of course, there are much larger albums at home but these are my compact traveling ones. As you can tell from Connor’s baby picture, he was so cute. And here he is at two years old. Cuter still.”
“And naked,” Marissa said.
“He didn’t like wearing clothes much at that age,” his mom said. “He loved his cowboy boots though.”
Connor didn’t have to see the photo to know which one it was. He was wearing bright red cowboy boots and a cowboy hat but that was it.
Marissa shot him a mocking look.
He fired back with a don’t-mess-with-me glare but it had little effect on her.
“Maybe Connor wanted to be a sheriff at an early age,” Marissa said. “Thankfully he no longer goes around naked.”
“How do you know?” he said.
“I meant in public,” she said.
He could see his mom’s matchmaking antenna going up again. “Does that mean you’ve seen Connor naked in private?” she asked Marissa.
Connor watched Marissa blush and squelched any temptation to leap in to save her. She’d been baiting him. She deserved whatever she got.
She had seen him naked in private just as he’d seen her naked. Sure it had been years ago but it wasn’t a memory he’d forgotten. He could tell by the look on her face that she hadn’t forgotten either. But she lied. Not very well, but she gave it her best shot.
“No, of course not,” Marissa said.
His grandmother leapt to Marissa’s defense. “Of course she hasn’t seen him naked. What kind of question is that to ask the poor girl? First you insult Polish chocolate and now this. I raised you better than that, Wanda.”
Their good-hearted squabbling started again, giving Connor the chance to pull Marissa aside. “Ready to make your escape now?”
Marissa nodded and edged closer to the front door only to open it and almost bump into her own mom.
Chapter Nine
“Mom! What are you doing here? How did you know where I was?” Marissa said.
“Your neighbor across the hall told me. Your father has a faculty meeting tonight and is working late so I brought you a casserole for dinner.” She held it up.
The squabbling between Connor’s mom and grandmother stopped as they immediately joined Marissa in the threshold.
“Connor said the same thing to us when we got here,” his mom said. “Not about your husband’s meeting. He said ‘What are you doing here?’ ” She shook her head in disapproval. “It’s enough to make a mom feel unwelcome. Come in, come in. We’re so glad to meet you. I’m Connor’s mother and this is his gra
ndmother Sophie.”
Marissa’s mom looked around in confusion. “Am I interrupting something?”
“We should go so Connor and his family can visit together,” Marissa said.
“What’s in the casserole?” Wanda asked.
“Beef stew,” Marissa’s mom said. “It’s my specialty.”
“It’s one of mine, too,” Wanda said. “Do you add beer?”
Marissa’s mom nodded. “It’s one of my secret ingredients.”
“Mine, too,” his mom said.
“Would you like a taste?” Marissa’s mom asked. “I made enough for an army.”
“Great. Come on in.” Wanda pulled her farther into Connor’s apartment. “The more the merrier.”
As the women headed for the kitchen, Marissa stared after them in dismay.
“Not as funny now that your mom is involved, huh?” Connor drawled.
“She doesn’t keep my baby pictures in her purse,” Marissa said.
“That’s a shame. Did you feel a little bit guilty lying to my family about seeing me naked?”
“Quiet.” She put her fingers to his lips.
To her surprise, he nibbled on them, his tongue darting out to caress the ultra-sensitive skin between her index and middle finger. She froze. She should have yanked her hand away as if she’d mistakenly touched a hot stove. She did do that eventually but by then he’d nibbled and tongued a bit more, rattling her completely.
His knowing smile helped her regain her composure. She refused to let him get an upper hand here. Speaking of hands, her fingers continued to hum and tingle. Which was ridiculous. Was she so desperate that the merest touch set her off? Or was it his touch and only his that did it?
Whatever the reason, it couldn’t happen again. No one could say that she was a woman who did not learn from her past mistakes. She wasn’t about to allow Connor to become a present—or future—mistake.
She’d already been down that road with him once before. Granted, it had been a long time ago but apparently her body had no trouble remembering.
Did he remember how powerful their chemistry was? Or was he merely getting a kick out of pushing her buttons?
Connor’s mom returned from the kitchen to jab a stack of plates at his chest. “Set the table,” she ordered him.
Marissa smiled. It was so nice to see someone bossing Connor around for a change instead of it being the other way around.
