by Mimi Barbour
He’d never met another woman who had so much emotion locked away behind such tough constraints. What the hell could have turned her like that? Appearing cold and standoffish and yet willing to put her life on the line for street kids in trouble, ones she’d never met before.
Or being afraid to reach out and touch her own son, and when she managed a caress, she acted like she’d taken liberties and was expecting a rejection.
He shook his head. The woman he’d held in his arms not that many hours ago had been coiled like a snake full of need and hunger. Her reaction to him had been passionate and giving, hot and ready. And… sweet.
So sweet.
He crouched over, pretending to check the grass. Roy had a keen eye and would wonder at the bulge in his pants if he didn’t get rid of it soon. After the night before, he’d been walking around with his mascot ready and willing. All it took was one look at the woman and the nuisance swelled with interest.
Especially this morning.
She’d taken him at his word and had dressed appropriately for the island. White shorts, that made a man blink and then blink again, highlighted her heart-stopping tanned legs to perfection.
She’d cut down on the make-up, but now looked even more untouchable because what she’d revealed was the real person behind the mask. And that girl was stunningly beautiful and surprisingly shy.
Her look-but-no-touchie sign glowed bright as the red on her cheeks when she’d seen the appreciation he hadn’t tried to hide. It was going to be hellish trying to keep his hands off her… at least until the kid hit the sack later and they were alone.
Suddenly, Faisal jumped off of the mower and headed across to where a car had pulled into the driveway.
“Bye, Kean. See you later.” He turned to Sloan. “If my mom says it’s okay, can I come over later and watch TV with Kean?”
Sloan pretended he’d just noticed the visitors exiting Janna’s car. “I’m not sure your mom will approve, Faisal. Looks like you have visitors.”
Being a boy, Faisal hadn’t cultivated the ability to hide his feelings well. His face dropped and confusion appeared. “They’re not visitors. Well, not really. But they intrude and we must let them stay. My Dad has spoken.”
Sloan took pity on the boy and gave his shoulders a squeeze. “If your mom says it’s okay, you are welcome here anytime, brat. You know that, right?”
Cheerful again, Faisal grinned. “Thanks, Sloan. See you later, Kean.”
Kean appeared a bit down and Roy picked up on it and stepped into the breach. “Hey, son, you wanna come to the garage with me? I have some work that needs doing and I’ll be tidying up after Les, the old slob. You could be my handyman and earn a few bucks?”
Glowing, smiling again, Kean looked toward Sloan for permission. “Can I? Please.”
“It’s okay with me, bud. But only if you help Roy put away these tools first.”
Already moving in the direction of Roy’s truck, Kean skidded to a stop and reversed direction. He quickly picked up a rake and some clippers to put into the wheelbarrow, his young-boy’s face grinning with enthusiasm.
“Then check with your mom.”
That’s when the grin faded and consternation appeared.
Sloan didn’t know why Kean reacted this way, but he headed into the house too, wanting to be present when Kean asked for permission. He didn’t quite understand the relationship between mother and son but he damn well intended to find out.
Alia came from her room, her light makeup restored, the upsweep of her hair pure perfection with every strand in place. Before he could warn her about Kean’s request, the boy barrelled into the room and stopped dead, two feet away from her.
“Mom, Roy’s asked me to go to the garage and help him with some chores. Can I go? Please, Mom. He wants me to. Please.”
“No! Oh, no.” Her reply followed his request without a second of hesitation. “I’m sure Roy doesn’t want a boy around, getting in his way. You stay here with me. We’ll do something together.”
Alia, not too stupid, picked up on Kean’s overwhelming disappointment immediately. Most likely the well of tears pouring from his eyes was an indication. So too could be the way he wailed the word M-o-o-m-m and then ran to his room.
Sloan never said a word, just watched to see what she would do. He wasn’t disappointed either. This woman had no idea how to handle the boy’s behavior or his angst.
None whatsoever.
She pressed her shaking hands to her mouth and blinked back her own tears before looking his way, a begging expression clear on her face. “I should have let him go. Now he hates me.”
“No, he doesn’t. The boy’s disappointed, is all. You replied without asking him anything about the request. Just said no. He needs to know why you refused. And then he has to figure out if he should state his reasons for wanting to go or leave the matter alone. But you never gave him the chance to say anything.”
“I made Roy’s invitation sound insincere. I didn’t mean to. I’m a terrible mother.” She sniffed first and then let out a small sob. “I don’t know what to do, how to talk to him, what to say. Ruby always did the mothering. I just loved him from behind the scene.”
“Where it was safe. Where you couldn’t get hurt.”
She swung his way. “You don’t know me.” Her anger grew. “How dare you say that?”
He didn’t retreat. Rather, he leaned into her space and watched her blue dazzlers grow huge “Because, it’s true. Quit protecting yourself over the needs of your son. Take a few chances. If he hurts your feelings, pull up your big-girly thongs and get on with it. You’re his mom, for Christ’s sake. Act like it. Now go and talk to him and find out why this treat means so much to him, and make your decision based on that. And… just so you know, I spent my entire childhood in that garage and it’s a fascinating way for a little guy to pass time. And… Roy and Les never let anything bad happen to me, so I’m sure they can be relied on to take care of Kean.”
He stopped there. Ignored the pain on her face and left her to decide what she would do.
By the time he’d told Roy to give it a little while and had parked the mower in the garage, Kean came running out of the house. His small face was lit with excitement and his globby eyes had been wiped, leaving streaks on his smiles. “I can go. Mom said okay.” He skidded to a stop in front of Roy and Sloan. Then he turned and waved.
Alia stopped at the door and waved back to him, her own track of tears blackened slightly with mascara… her smile enormous.
Chapter Thirty-nine
Alia made repairs to her face, though without putting on more mascara because it would take too long to do it properly. She needed to get to the sunroom now that Janna had arrived with her company.
Staring at her image, she hesitated. She had cut down on how much make-up she wore, but it felt weird to go out in public without her former mask, like she was naked, exposed—unprotected.
The scene earlier between her and Kean re-played over in her mind and she reached for another tissue. Her little boy had been on his bed crying when she’d knocked and opened their bedroom door. As soon as he’d seen who it was, he’d swiped at his tears and laid back down, facing the wall.
Not sure how to start, Alia had stood nearby, gathering her courage so she could come straight to the point. Finally, she cleared her throat and dove in. “You really wanted to go with Roy, didn’t you?”
“Yes,” Kean had sniffed and added, “He likes me.”
His words had cut her in half, leaving the raw wounds bloody. She’d gone with being honest and hoped he’d hear her sincerity. “I do too, kiddo. You’re pretty easy to like. When I said no to you, it was because I was trying to protect you. But in this case, I was wrong. Sloan says that he used to spend all his time at the garage when he was your age. So I guess it’s safe.”
Kean sat up and looked at her, his globby eyes earnest and full of hope. “Roy and Les wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me, Mom.”
&nb
sp; “I know they wouldn’t. But accidents can happen, so you must do exactly as they tell you and don’t touch anything unless they give you permission.”
“I’m not a baby, Mom. I know that.”
“Sorry. You’re right.” Remembering Sloan’s words, Alia had taken the discussion further. “Kean, when you really want something, I mean something that well… that means a lot to you, you gotta tell me. Explain it to me so I understand. I’m not too good at picking up signals sometimes so it would really help me if you like, told me.”
“Ruby says I mustn’t argue when I don’t get my way.”
“She’s right… to a point. But you’re growing up and you need to be able to, ahh… discuss things with me. For instance, when I know something means a lot to you, I promise I’ll give it more consideration and we can… ahh, hash it over, like adults. Okay?”
“Sure. That’s good, Mom. We can hash a lot if you like. So can I go with Roy?”
Well, that wasn’t so hard. “Uh, huh. He’s waiting for you.”
Kean had dashed over to where she’d stood, arms crossed over her middle to keep the rioting emotions inside her stomach from making her hurl. God this parenting was hard shit!
When he’d come at her, his arms had been stretched wide. She’d opened hers and he’d moved right in, wrapped his arms around her waist, brushed his face against her stomach and hugged her hard. She’d kinda thought he might have left his tears on the front of her top—hopefully no other bodily fluids—but that didn’t matter. The desperate hug he’d given her would keep her going for days.
She’d followed him to the patio to wave as he’d flown at the two men who were waiting. God, I love that boy.He’s so damn precious, how did I ever get so lucky?
Sloan stepped up behind her as she entered the kitchen for a coffee to take with her to the front. “Do you want me to watch the Amans’ place so that you can have dinner ready for when the kid gets back?”
Dinner?
Friggin’, shittin’ hell!
“You want me to prepare the meal?”
Having picked up on her terror, he chuckled. “You can’t cook either, can you?”
“I can make hot dogs. Or French toast. Once I made an omelette and after we scooped it from the stovetop, it actually tasted pretty good.”
“Let me guess. Ruby cooked. And you let her.”
On the defensive now, she admitted, “There’s no letting that girl do anything. The kitchen became her domain and I respected her rules.”
“And…?”
“And it was easier to stand back and let her take over. Okay, I’m a failure as a mom and a housekeeper. But that’s my personal life. Please don’t imagine I’m a pushover when it comes to my career. I’m a good agent.”
“So I’ve heard. Tough as nails.” The man’s voice turned husky, and she had to grip the handle of her mug tighter.
He grinned, and she wasn’t too sure if he was teasing her or making fun. Not willing to push buttons, she said, “I’ll order pizzas later and take this shift so when Kean returns, I can spend time with him until he goes to bed. And, so you don’t think me totally incapable, I made my own coffee.” She headed toward the far doorway. Fully aware of his heated stare, her skin pebbled with delightful tingles. Preventing the swaying of her hips from becoming provocative was difficult but she managed.
His words followed her into the hallway. “Glad you conquered the coffee machine. Those little pods can be really difficult, fitting them into their slot.” This time, his laugh echoed until she closed the door. Her answering grin, she kept to herself.
It was only minutes later that she spied him sauntering across the street, an empty measuring cup in his hand.
That sneaky bastard!
Why hadn’t she thought of that? She quickly headed out to catch up with him.
“Why didn’t you tell me you had intentions of going over there?”
“I knew you’d see me and follow.”
“I’m that predictable?”
“I wish.” He nudged her with his shoulder in a friendly way so she couldn’t take offense. “I really didn’t have any sugar left and my first instinct was to go there and get some. Why change habits, right? Plus, it makes sense for us to go and make the visitors’ acquaintance as soon as possible and see just what we’re up against.”
“If anything?”
“Exactly. They could be here for a Hawaiian vacation, like the thousands of other tourists who come to the islands.”
“Or not.”
“Well, at least, this way, we can do a bit of analysis on a personal level. I’m a pretty good judge of character most times.”
“Me, too.”
He stopped on the sidewalk and stared at her cheeky smile; his questioning look drilled her confidence to bits.
“Are you playing with me?” His hand snaked out to pull her close. Their mouths were angling to feel the taste of the other, their need a vibrant emotion sizzling between them.
“Quit bullying your sister, Sloan. Be nice.”
Sister?
Well, hell!
“Yeah, bro. Be nice.” Alia couldn’t stop the comment even if she’d wanted to.
Janna had seen them coming and had stepped out onto her porch in welcome, though she was too far away to feel the spiralling tension. “Please come in and meet my visitors from home: my brother’s children.”
Sloan backed away and waved Alia forward. “You first, sis.”
Chapter Forty
Kean had never felt this way before. Being the center of attention from two old guys, who… made him laugh, made him feel safe, and best of all, made him feel worthy, boggled his mind. He didn’t know how to behave. And was scared he’d step out of line.
He circled a car that stood off to the side; the paintwork was eye-catching due to its bright colors and Polynesian scenes. Waves of frothy turquoise water flowed up to a shoreline where palm trees and sand dunes waited. Whales and other sea life frolicked in the water. The bright sky dazzled from sunshine and multi-colored clouds invested with pinks, mauves and yellow. And every so often, one saw the brown and black Maori symbols like tattoos painted against this soft background.
“Did you paint this, Les?” Awe filled him and sounded in his voice.
“Yep. Still working on it.” Les stood close by, hands on hips, waiting.
Kean liked the attention and felt comfortable to ask more questions. He stepped over to a strange-looking machine that was connected to one of the scattered tools on the counter. “What’s this?”
“It’s the compressor for my airbrush.” Les picked up one of the instruments. “I have a few different kits but this here is my favorite.” He held up a chrome airbrush that intrigued Kean. It looked like a weird pen, but with a cup on the top beside a lever and with a cord attached. “With this sucker, I can create the smallest details and it keeps a steady spray.”
Before he could stop himself, Kean asked, “How does it work?” Les gave him a very brief lesson while actually using the instrument. The words became jumbled together, but when Les actually let him try, he understood that one had to press down on the top lever to make it spray and pull back on the same lever to bring the paint out thicker.
“He’s a natural.” Roy joined them and sat next to Kean. “You like painting at school?”
“Nah! This is way more fun.” Kean noticed the two men grin at each other and his pride swelled. They liked him.
“Where do you work, Roy?” For some reason, Kean felt connected to Roy the most. The older man looked like Santa Claus, had blue eyes like his and his mom’s and a smile that soaked right inside a person.
Somehow, he just knew that Roy liked him too. No, it was better than like. Whenever he was in Roy’s presence, he knew he mattered. Not Kean the son, or Ruby’s Kean. But the person he was, his ideas… shoot. He didn’t know the words.
Les gestured for him to get up off the high bench and settle himself down next to Roy. “See, now you’ve gone and done
it, kid. He’s gonna yak your ear off, and all the time he’s bragging, he’ll get you to clean up the place.”
Roy stiffened and came back at Les as usual. “Only because you leave a gawd-awful mess everywhere, so someone’s gotta pick it up. If we left it up to you, we’d be tripping over your crap and… Hey, Kean, it’s no biggie. We talk like this all the time. Old Les would live in a pigpen if we let him.” Roy grinned and pointed at himself. “Me, I like order.”
“You should get a Ruby. She looks after all of that for me and my mom.”
Les began laughing. “We do have a Ruby. Only we call him Roy.”
“Is this a private joke or can anyone join in?” A woman had come into the shop and now stood facing them. Kean recognized her as the lady who sometimes parked on his street. Only this time, her blonde hair wasn’t quite so poofy.
“Sorry, we’re actually closed on Sundays.” Roy stepped forward.
“Darn. I wanted to talk to the man who repairs fenders. Last night, I cut off some jerks and they smashed into my front end. It’s not a biggie but it kinda looks bad.”
Les had stood back, his arm around Kean’s shoulders. But now he stepped forward. “It’s okay, Roy. I’ll take her to the office and fill out some forms so she can bring the car in tomorrow.”
Kean thought that Roy looked stunned. He even mumbled, “You will?” But he moved aside and let Les take over.
Once they were out of hearing, he shook his head at Kean. “Some days that Les blows my mind. I would have bet a million bucks that he’d have brushed her off. He does that, you know, doesn’t care who people are. But this time, he put on the charm. It’s strange.”
“Maybe he likes her.”
“Or maybe he’s learning some manners in his old age.” He winked at Kean. “Pffft! Just kidding.” Grinning, he waved his arm. “What do you say we leave this mess for now and get us some ice cream? I just bought a big tub of Rocky Road.”
Kean loved Rocky Road and headed in the direction Roy had pointed out. They went through a back door that led into an apartment. There was a kitchen that opened into the sitting room full of old-man chairs, coffee tables and a huge TV. “Is this where you live?”
