“Except...he did change.”
“True, but—” Kelly thought a moment “—there are different kinds of change. There’s being able to adapt, like I said, which is when something happens—good or bad—and you figure out new ways of coping. That’s a good thing. A positive thing. Then there’s reacting, which is almost always bad—a negative thing. Because then you feel so threatened by all the new stuff that you get scared. Or angry. Or overwhelmed. Which might make you take out your frustrations on other people. Which isn’t cool.”
“Like Dad did.”
“Yes. Like Dad did. Although I really believe,” she said, tugging Coop close again, “in my heart of hearts, that in his heart your father was the same person he always was. But he let fear and confusion blind him. And yes, that was very sad.”
“But if you loved him, why didn’t you help him?”
Her eyes burned. “I tried, sweetie,” she whispered, rubbing his back. “Believe me. Grandma, too. We both begged him to go talk to someone who might have been able to make him feel better. He wouldn’t do it.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know, honey. I really don’t.”
Coop sat up, frowning. “So, what? We’re just...starting over?”
“I’m not sure we have a choice. Things aren’t the same. We can either adapt...or not. But we still have each other, right? And we’re taking all our old things to the new place. And you can see Grandma whenever you want. So what’s important—that’ll be the same. And hey.” He swung his eyes to hers. “Alf?”
A small smile played around his mouth. Gotcha, she thought. Then his expression got serious again.
“But after that,” he said, “no more changes, okay?”
“Not if I can help it. I promise.”
And Coop released a huge sigh of relief.
They’d get through this, because you know what? Kelly was sick and tired of being life’s bitch, of cowering before fate. But once this move was done, barring any other rude surprises the universe might want to vomit in their laps, she really did swear—no more changes. Coop had been through enough, she’d been through enough, to last them both for some time. Now her only goal was to reestablish a little peace and stability, to give both herself and her son a chance to regain their footing. Okay, find their footing.
And there was no place for handsome, overprotective cops in that scenario.
No matter how tempting that prospect might be.
* * *
Matt glanced over at Kelly, who was staring pensively out the passenger side window of Matt’s Explorer as they drove back to Maple River. It wasn’t particularly late, but it’d already been dark for a while. And by the time they’d helped Lynn clean up and then taken her out for Chinese—Kelly’s idea, although Lynn had insisted on paying—they were all pretty zonked. Especially the kids, who were both sawing logs behind them.
“Warm enough?”
“Mmm-hmm,” she murmured, then pressed her gloved hand to her mouth as she yawned. “Sorry.”
“You look ready to pass out, too,” he said softly, and she gave a little hmmph.
“There’s an understatement,” she said over another, longer yawn. Then she shifted in her seat, stretching out her arms. “Can’t, though.” Her hands fell to her lap. “Still have to make up the kids’ beds, didn’t have time before we left.”
“And nothing says you have to move in tonight, you can certainly stay at the house—”
“No. I mean, thank you, but...I think the kids are more than ready to be reunited with their things.”
“And you?”
Her eyes cut to his. “And me what?”
“You’re ready to...” Matt gestured lamely with one hand, searching for the right words. “To get on with...the next stage?”
“I am that,” she said on a huge sigh, her head falling back against the seat rest. “For their sake, more than my own. And hopefully this stage, as you call it, will last for more than five minutes.” She paused, then said, “I am so done with feeling as though I’m shepherding my children across one of those wobbly, rickety bridges suspended over a bottomless ravine. In the fog. Although at least now, maybe, the mists have dispersed enough to see the other side.”
Matt smiled. Ignored the impulse to reach for her hand. “I can make beds, you know.”
“What? No, Matt, you’ve already done so much—”
“We’re talking throwing some sheets on a couple kids’ beds, Kelly. Not staving off an alien invasion.”
She pushed out a short laugh. “What are you, the Energizer Bunny?”
“I could say the same about you. Look at how much you’ve dealt with in the past week, including a move. Not to mention today. You’ve gotta be drained by this point. Hell, I’m drained, and it wasn’t... Well. Personal for me. So I’m making the beds. Deal with it.”
“God, you’re bossy,” she said, but he caught the smile. “And I’m too tired to argue. Heck, I’m almost too tired to breathe. Let alone talk.” She shot him a fleeting, apologetic look. “You mind?”
“As long as you don’t start snoring, too, I’m good,” he said, and she hmmphed another little laugh through her nose.
“Message received,” she said, then crossed her arms and leaned her head against the window, her eyes drifting closed. Only then she added, “I really am grateful.”
“For?”
Yawning again, she snuggled farther down into her seat. “Everything. I’ve gotten so used to doing it all myself....” Her eyes still shut, she reached over to briefly squeeze his forearm. “You’re a good friend, Matt Noble....”
Touched by her sincerity, Matt glanced across the seat. But she was already asleep, her breath gently stirring a delicate, coppery coil of hair that had drifted across her mouth. And something stirred inside him, not so gently, a peculiar mixture of sympathy and annoyance, admiration and yearning. Not lust, exactly—although that curl across her mouth was definitely rattling loose a few bolts of his control—but definitely an ache. To touch. To hold.
To be something she didn’t need him to be.
That he wasn’t sure he could be.
Huffing a sigh of his own, Matt focused on the dark, but far less trafficked, back road she’d recommended they take, weaving through the townships and farmland that gave lie to their proximity to one of the most heavily populated areas of the country. She had no idea, of course, that he’d overheard a good chunk of her conversation with Cooper earlier. He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, of course, only to quickly peek in to make sure both mama and son were okay. But he’d gotten the gist—Coop’s plea for no more changes, Kelly’s assurance there wouldn’t be.
Boy, could he understand that.
After everything they’d been through, it was only natural that they’d want things to finally settle down. For a while, at least. Turbulence might be character building, but it was really tough on the soul. Which Matt not only knew from personal experience, but also from witnessing the toll constant upheaval took on kids with stressful home lives. Hell, on anybody’s. Meaning his guess was that Kelly’s promise was as much to herself as it was to her son. And who could blame her?
So it was all good. That the attraction was one-sided, that is. Made things a lot easier for everybody, right? And yet, as he drove, listening to the kids’ soft snorts and groans in their sleep, Kelly’s even breathing beside him, something like contentment spread through his chest that she’d called him her friend. And meant it.
That she obviously trusted him.
It also startled him to realize that, right now, at this moment, what they had was already head and shoulders above what he’d had with his ex. With any girl or woman he’d even been involved with, frankly. And that felt good, too. Like maybe he was finally growing up, he thought with a smirk.
A few minute
s later, they pulled up in front of the house, all of his passengers still zonked. He looked over at Kelly, slack mouthed as she slumped against the window, and he thought about that conversation, how patient she’d been with Coop, and a wave of tenderness shunted through him. He could tell himself he was just feeling brotherly, but he’d be lying. He could, and did, however, tell himself to get over it.
“Hey,” Matt whispered, briefly touching her hand. She jerked awake with a soft gasp, frowning at him for a second. “We’re...” Home, he almost said, thinking, What the hell? “Here.”
“Oh.” She blinked a few times, then let out a soft laugh. “Wow, I was really out. Whew.”
Behind her, Coop yawned and unbuckled himself from his booster seat, fumbling for the door handle as Matt got out, went around to the boy’s door.
“No, I’m good,” Coop said, not quite pushing past Matt, but close enough, before slightly staggering toward the side entrance to the apartment. From behind his living room window, Matt could hear Alf going berserk. A much more raucous display than she’d ever put on for him, for sure, he thought as he rounded the car again to take the sleeping toddler from Kelly’s arms.
“No, it’s okay—”
“Good God, what do you feed this kid?” he said with a mock grunt. “She weighs five hundred pounds. Coop?” When the boy turned, Matt tossed him the keys. “Black one’s the top lock, red’s the bottom. Go on and say hi to your dog before she explodes. What?” he said to Kelly’s confused, still half-asleep frown as Aislin slumped against his shoulder, her curls tickling his cheek. And, yeah, a not-so-little twinge zinged through him that this had been how he’d seen his life by now—wife, kids, dog, house. What did they call that? Oh, yeah...a life.
“His dog?” Kelly said, frowning, curls wafting every which way in the night breeze, glimmering in the porch light, her skin so smooth and pale and...
“Can you hear that?” Matt said, tearing his gaze from Kelly’s mouth. The frown, too, but mostly the mouth. Spotting Coop, Alf went into overdrive, trying to hurtle herself through the triple-paned picture window. Matt grinned. “Yep, definitely Coop’s dog now. Come on, let’s get those beds made....”
They all trooped into the house and through to the living room, where Coop and Alf indulged in a boy-and-beast lovefest, rife with giggling and dog spit. Still holding the little girl, Matt nudged on the thermostat, then let his gaze slide to Kelly. Hands shoved in the pockets of her black, calf-length dress coat, tears glistened in her eyes.
“After today, of all days...he’s laughing.”
“I think that’s one reason my folks always had animals in the house,” Matt said softly, hiking up the baby as he watched the two, now wrestling on the worn beige wall-to-wall carpet he’d yet to change out. Next project. After he repainted. And got rid of the prissy grandma drapes. “Especially dogs. Hard to be scared or angry or confused in the face of a dog’s love.”
“I remember that.” She snorted. “My mother loved to complain about all the dog hair on my clothes when I’d come back from you guyses house.” Matt chuckled at her uncharacteristic New Jersey-ism as she added, “I take it there was a dog when you and Sabrina arrived?”
Almost forgotten images flooded his brain. “After the accident, Bree wouldn’t talk. To anyone, not even me. We’d sheltered with another family for a few days. They were kind enough, I suppose, but everything seemed... I don’t know. Like I was watching a movie about my own life.”
“I can imagine,” Kelly said quietly, slipping out of her coat to fold it across her arms.
Matt glanced over, caught the understanding in her eyes then turned back to the wrestling match. “All I remember is trying to get Bree to talk to me, how scared I was that she wouldn’t. Even though everybody kept telling me not to worry, that eventually she would. But I didn’t believe them. Couple days later, they moved us to the Colonel’s. Why, I have no idea. But there was this dog...”
In his arms, Aislin hauled in a deep breath; smiling, Matt breathed with her, realizing she smelled like Kelly’s perfume. “A golden retriever, I think. Or something close. Soon as we set foot inside, she—Sally—hustled right over to us, wagging her tail, smiling the way goldens do. Then she started nudging us until we started petting her. And Bree...”
Matt blinked, remembering. “She got down on her knees and hugged that poor dog’s neck like her life depended on it. Then she looked up at Mom and whispered, ‘What’s her name?’” He grinned over at Kelly. “She hasn’t stopped talking since,” he said, and Kelly laughed.
“Since he was two,” she said, “Coop’s wanted a dog. And we’d always planned on getting one. Bought a house with a large, fenced-in yard, even. But Rick thought it best to wait until Coop was older, and I didn’t disagree with him. Then, of course...”
She shrugged, then sighed. “I’d forgotten how full of joy dogs are. How much they simply love for the sake of loving.”
“That they do,” Matt said as Aislin woke up enough to stuff her thumb in her mouth. And although she didn’t seem in any hurry to leave Matt’s shoulder, he imagined Kelly was ready for them all to be in bed so she could collapse in hers.
“Here,” he said, shifting the toddler back into Kelly’s arms. “Where’s the sheets and stuff?”
A tiny smile toyed with her mouth. “In a box labeled ‘sheets and stuff’ in the master bedroom. Aislin’s are pink and Coop’s are blue.” Her shoulders bumped. “All my creative energy goes into my cooking, what can I say?”
“So I’m guessing your sheets are white?”
Surprise flashed across her face before deepening into a blush. “Ivory, actually. But I’ll make my own bed, thank you.”
Damn, she was cute. Although probably not a good time to tell her that. Or any time. No sense in poking that particular beast.
“Go sit, then. I’ll be right back.”
Fifteen minutes later, he’d made all the beds—yes, including Kelly’s, she could deal—and tried not to react to how barren the place looked. No furniture except beds and dressers, a dinette set she’d scored at some furniture warehouse at the outlet mall the day before. He knew stuff didn’t define home. That the kids—and quite possibly Kelly, for that matter—didn’t care. But he’d been in her childhood house a couple times, with Sabrina, probably, and he knew Kelly had grown up with nice things. And she deserved nice things now.
Not that this was any of his concern.
Matt returned upstairs via the shared laundry room in the basement to find Kelly practically asleep on his sofa—which was no great shakes, either, now that he took a good look at it—while the kids played with the dog. At his appearance, she pushed herself upright, offering him a sleepy smile. Her dress was a maze of wrinkles and her hair looked like the kids had played in it. But it made her look real, you know? Like somebody who maybe wasn’t afraid of a little dirt.
Except when her eyes didn’t quite meet his, Matt realized she sure was afraid of something.
And he had the very distinct feeling that something was him.
What the hell?
* * *
She hadn’t been asleep, exactly, but definitely in that floaty, peaceful place where, even though she could still hear the kids, her thoughts had been taking her on some very interesting little trips. Then she saw Matt standing there, all smug smile and dimples, and that lovely, floaty bubble went pop!
“Done?” she said, trying not to look quite so much like a zombie. A zombie, she realized as she glanced down, with no fashion sense whatsoever.
“Everything but the mints on the pillows,” Matt said. “But only because I’m fresh out.”
“You are such a goof,” she murmured, smiling in spite of herself, as she surreptitiously tried to smooth out the relief map stretched across her lap. But at least the day was almost over—hallelujah. “Okay, you two,” she said as she shoved
herself to her feet, wobbling a bit in her high-heeled boots. “Bedtime!”
Face flushed, curls wild, Coop hugged the dog, and Kelly’s heart melted. More. “Can Alf come, too?”
“Oh, honey... She’s Matt’s dog, remember—?”
The dog woofed, then plopped her butt next to Coop, as close as she could get without sitting on him. Then she lowered her head and gave Matt The Look: Please, can I spend the night with The Boy? Pleeeease?
Kind of matched the one on Coop’s face, actually.
“Up to you, Mom,” Matt said. “Although, actually, letting her hang out here’s not a bad idea—she’s a great watchdog. Unless you’d be more comfortable with me staying here...?”
“And leave your sister all alone in that huge house?”
“Believe me, now that I’ve got running water again, I’m only there for Pop. Because woe betide any burglar dumb enough to mess with Abby,” he said, and Kelly laughed. Then sighed.
Because she got it. She did. More to the point, she got him. And was guessing, from the hot, sweet look in those dreamy brown eyes, she could have him. Aaany time she wanted. For the moment, anyway. ’Course, that could be her poor, neglected libido playing tricks on her, too. So she smiled and said, “We’ll be fine. We’ve been on our own for the past two years, remember? Besides which, before that Rick was away a lot for his job. Although—” her gaze slid to the dog “—if you really don’t mind leaving Alf here...?”
“Not at all.” But she heard in his voice, the sacrifice he was making. Saw it when he squatted to ruffle the fur around the dog’s neck, his God-I-love-this-dog grin when the thing slurped her tongue across her master’s rough cheek. He stood, turning to Coop. “If she bugs you in the middle of the night just let her outside, she’ll come right back. You good with that?”
“Yeah,” Coop said, beaming, his curls bobbing when he nodded.
This I can give him, Kelly thought as she slipped her coat back on, then herded everyone to the front door. Cold air rushed in when Matt opened it, laced with the promise of a new snowstorm, the first itty-bitty flakes already dotting her face. And the baby’s, apparently, judging from her shrieked, “Snow!” followed by Coop’s “I am so gonna make a snowman tomorrow!”
The Real Mr. Right Page 8
