by Jen Doyle
How was she possibly finding him even close to attractive?
Shifting her gaze away from him, she said, “Nothing. I’ve got it from here. Don’t you have a harem waiting somewhere?” There had to be someone ready to step up to the plate. Why he hadn’t been spending more time out there, she had no clue.
Before he could offer any response, Lola appeared in the doorway. “Oh, goodness!” she exclaimed, dropping down to her knees as she gathered her boys into her arms. “Look how clean my babies are! Were you all good listeners?”
At Lola’s questioning look, Fitz gave a half-hearted grin. The triplets were the triplets. No one had any illusions they actually behaved.
In response, Lola gave a big, broad smile. “I can’t tell you how nice it was to have a free afternoon,” Lola was saying. “That was amazing. Thank you guys so much.”
“It was nothing,” Fitz said, shrugging. And that was true. Mostly. Peggy Miller wasn’t a nothing, not even after all these years, but that had just been a blip of nastiness Fitz was now well used to handling. Although for Deke, the Peggy part was probably the big highlight. He’d even had dinner with her and her whole gang.
Except when Fitz glanced over at him, their eyes met and she saw that look again. Not the look from a few minutes ago, thank goodness. She didn’t think she could take that again. This was the one she only saw on his face when he was worried about Lola and thought no one else was paying attention.
It passed through his eyes as she watched, turning into his trademark easy grin as Lola raised her head. “Like I said downstairs, Lo. Anything you need.”
“Well, that’s good,” Lola answered with a grin of her own, although this one somewhat apologetic. “Because I do kind of need one more thing.”
Having been the primary designated driver for years, Deke clearly knew where this was heading. He leaned back against the doorframe. “Jules is too drunk to drive herself home.”
Lola nodded. “If Fitz could drive Jules’s car home, and, Deke, you could bring Fitz back here afterwards...” She shrugged as her voice trailed off.
With a sigh, Fitz straightened up. Jules was her sister. And they weren’t exactly besties, but Fitz did love her.
So she smiled and said, “Of course.” Without another look at Deke, she headed out the bathroom door.
* * *
Deke didn’t mind playing chauffeur one bit. He needed some time to get his head straight. He had almost kissed Fitz, for fuck’s sake.
He was unlocking the truck when Matty screamed bloody murder. Thinking someone was dead or at least now bleeding profusely, Deke tore around the front of the house, coming to a sudden halt when he realized it was just a tantrum the likes of which Deke had never seen. He took in the scene. No blood, but Jules was kneeling on the ground, trying to contain Matty, while Lola watched from the porch, an upset Silas in her arms.
Deke glanced down at Fitz. “What happened?”
Fitz took a startled step back when he spoke. God almighty, he hoped it wasn’t because of what had happened upstairs in the bathroom.
“Matty wants to spend the night here with Si,” she said, “but Jules told him his dad is coming to get him in the morning and...”
“I don’t want to go with Dad!” Matty wailed, pushing away from Jules so hard she had to put her hand behind her in order not to fall.
“Whoa.” Deke went over to Jules and Matty and crouched beside them. “Dude, you can’t go around pushing girls. You gotta be gentle.” Matty and Jules weren’t his by blood, but Deke was as much Matty’s uncle as Nate was, so he had no problem getting in Matty’s face. “What’s the problem here?”
The boy’s eyes filled with a fresh set of tears and his lip started trembling. “I don’t want to—”
“Go with your dad,” Deke cut in before the hysteria took hold again. “Okay. But it’s one of those things you just gotta do.”
“But...but...” Matty sputtered. He looked over at Si and Lola, and then back at Deke. As if Jules wasn’t six inches away and couldn’t hear every word, he whispered, “Mom and Dad fight all the time. I...” He hiccupped as his gaze shifted to where Si was standing with Lola. “I just want to live here for now and you can be my dad like you are for Si. And I can stay until my dad comes back to live at home.”
Well, fuck. Deke had no freaking idea of what to say to that. Jules’s heartbreaking hiss of breath didn’t help.
“Oh, honey,” Jules said, leaning forward and putting her hands on Matty’s cheeks. She guided him to look at her. “We’ve talked about this. Daddy has a new house now. He’s not coming back to live with us.”
To be honest, Deke never had an issue with Jeremiah the way Nate had. He mostly didn’t feel much one way or another. But a married man should keep his goddamn dick in his pants except with the woman he married. It wasn’t even close to fair that Jules had to be the one to pick up the pieces. That it spilled over to Lola, and even to Fitz, who had enough bad memories of her own when it came to this shit, made it that much worse. Deke was the town bartender and he did everything possible to keep his nose out of people’s business and not choose sides. But in that moment, he hated Jeremiah with more passion than he’d known he had inside him.
Forcing it all back, Deke said to Matty, “Hey buddy, I have an idea,” knowing full well Fitz was probably rolling her eyes at what she would say was his typical male need to try and fix things. He gave her a preemptive glare before turning back and saying, “Why don’t I take you and Si—”
“Out for ice cream?” Matty said, earning Deke frowns and glares from the moms in the crowd.
“Noooo,” he answered, drawing out the word and trying to sound offended they’d even think that was what he’d planned to do. “I have some guy stuff that needs to get done. I need some guys to help me do it.”
“Like what?” Matty asked, clearly suspicious.
As he should be. What the fuck did “guy stuff” even mean?
Deke threw another glare over at Fitz, who, with her arms folded across her chest—could no one give the woman a dry shirt?—was trying desperately not to laugh as she obviously thought the same thing.
“Like...” Deke took off his baseball cap and rubbed the back of his neck. “I need to get the paint for Si’s front door.”
Which was true. Lola had never liked the development she lived in. It had been Dave’s idea to live in a neighborhood because of how often he was deployed. And Lola went along with it, thinking one day she’d get her farmhouse when Dave finally came home for good. So much for that idea. But she was finally starting to come out of her grief-stricken shell enough to get things back to where she wanted them. Like having a fire-engine red front door. It was going to piss off the neighborhood association to no end, something Deke fully supported since it meant he was finally getting his feisty, pain-in-the-ass sister back.
“Gotta pick up some lightbulbs for the bar,” he added, thinking that as long as he was running around town, he may as well get the rest of his shit done. “And the team shirts for the Father’s Day Tournament.”
This time when he looked up, the ladies were all staring at him. “What?”
“It’s seven o’clock,” Lola said, making a point of looking at her watch and then giving an equally pointed look at Matty. “His bedtime is eight thirty.”
Bedtime. Right. This was why Deke happily handed off his kids to their parents when practice was done. His idea of bedtime involved a woman and lingerie. Sometimes toys.
He made a show of rolling his eyes as he turned back to Matty. “It’s guy stuff. Guy stuff takes half the time girl stuff does.” He elbowed Matty’s side. “Am I right or am I right?”
He got the giggle he’d been aiming for, which brought the tension down a few notches as planned, and had the boys back in their seats and on the road within five minutes. And sure enoug
h, by 8:30, after taking a ten-minute detour for, yes, ice cream, he was turning into Jules’s driveway after dropping Si off at home.
Bringing Matty into the house, he found Jules’s older two kids in the family room. “Where’s your mom and Aunt Fitz?”
Geo, who was eleven, barely grunted, caught up in whatever device he was playing. Thirteen-year-old Emily rolled her eyes as Matty went to sit next to her on the couch. “They’re still in the car. Mom said she had to talk to Aunt Fitz for a while, but she’s totally freaking about Dad. Sooo obvious.”
Since she was the closest thing to a niece he had, Deke had no problem calling her on her shit. “Maybe you could give your mom a bit of a break.”
With a wave of her hand, Emily just focused on the TV. “Whatever.”
Rather than get into it with her, he headed back outside.
It was easy enough to see how he’d missed them. Fitz had parked in the shadow of the garage and the glare from the floodlight blocked the view of the front seats.
He went to the driver’s side and rested his arms on the open window, realizing too late it put him close enough to Fitz to catch a hint of something citrusy. Since when did she wear perfume? Maybe it was just the boys’ shampoo. Of course that just made him think about her T-shirt again. The way her breasts would fit perfectly in the palms of his hands.
Christ.
He was saved by Jules, who closed her eyes and leaned back into her seat. “She hates me.”
Forcing his attention away from Fitz, he looked up at Jules. “What? Who?”
“Emily. I mean, she’s thirteen. She’s supposed to hate her mother.” She turned to look at Fitz. “Right? Who doesn’t hate their mom at thirteen?”
If Deke hadn’t been so close to Fitz, he might not have noticed how still she went or the pain that flashed through her eyes. Since Fitz had been about that age when she lost her own mother, Deke figured it was a loaded question. At the same time, he didn’t really know what kind of relationship she’d had with her mom. She never talked about either of her parents, and since the subject was basically Keep the Fuck Out territory, no one else ever brought it up.
The fact that Jules raised the subject despite how it might make Fitz feel, however, stirred up something Deke couldn’t fully identify. It made him want to get in Jules’s face and ask her what the fuck she’d been thinking. Fitz had been in the car when her mother was killed, for God’s sake. Since Jules was obviously dealing with some shit of her own, he held back.
But as Deke talked himself down, his eyes happened to catch Fitz’s. Judging from her expression, she knew where his thoughts had gone and seemed a little surprised.
Well, hell. He was, too. He never lost his shit. Never. Right now, though, his heart was actually racing. He almost jumped out of his skin when Fitz gently placed her hand on his wrist.
She wasn’t very touchy-feely. Unless she was smacking him in the arm, of course. Rather than calling attention to it by saying anything, though, which would completely piss her off, he straightened up out of his crouch, took a step back and away, and then opened the car door for her. After looking at him for a minute, partly amused, partly wary, she reached down for her purse and got out of the car. She threw an uncertain look at him over her shoulder as she and Jules walked up the path to the door, leaving him to stand there, watching them.
Which was fine. He couldn’t quite get a handle on any single one of his senses at the moment. He needed a minute.
That minute didn’t do jack, though, because afterward he still didn’t know which way was up. He closed the car door and went inside.
Chapter Six
Fitz gave a little tug on Jules’s arm and brought her into the house. There was no need to start something that would get both Jules and Emily upset, so they avoided the family room and headed straight upstairs instead. And maybe she was a little bit worried about herself, too. She’d spent a long time keeping her past where it belonged, and the key, she’d found, was to neatly pack her emotions away. But it was like Deke was on a Tilt-A-Whirl and he’d forced her to come along.
No, not forced her—he’d made her want to. She’d wanted to kiss him. She’d wanted to cry when he’d knelt down next to Matty, when he’d reined in his anger over Jeremiah.
And oh, God, when he’d almost gone at Jules because Fitz’s feelings might have been hurt... She’d had the urge to throw her arms around him and, well, she didn’t know. She had no idea how to handle any of it. This was Nate and Dorie’s fault for sure. Their whole happy vibe was so strong it was eating up everyone in its path and making Fitz have all these odd feelings.
Fitz kept up a steady patter as they walked, something about Nate’s game that day, all the while trying to keep her head from spinning. She got them to the master bedroom and steered Jules to the bed before heading into the bathroom. Her official purpose was to get a cool washcloth in case Jules needed it, but honestly, it was Fitz who needed a minute to splash water on her face.
She’d just turned off the water when she heard Deke come in the room and Jules ask, “Did Emily say anything to you?” Before Deke could respond, Jules went on a bit more about thirteen-year-olds and their mothers. And, honestly, Fitz couldn’t take it. She wouldn’t cry. She’d learned early on how to keep herself from breaking down under all sorts of circumstances. But that didn’t mean she was ready to listen to ramblings about teenage girls and their moms. Preparing herself for however long she needed to wait it out, Fitz sighed and started counting the tiles on the wall, a task she was engrossed in right up until the moment Jules said her name.
“Fitz should hate me, too, you know.”
Um... What?
After a slight pause, Deke laughed. “I’m pretty sure she didn’t mind driving you home, Jules.”
“I wish I could have been like you,” Jules continued as if he hadn’t said anything. “Always part of that crowd but somehow still removed.”
What crowd? Was Jules talking about high school?
Why?
But if so, there was no way this conversation was progressing any further. That crowd, Deke and Nate excepted, had made Fitz’s life even more of a living hell than it had needed to be. She had no interest in reliving even a little of it.
With as much noise as possible, Fitz came into the bedroom. “Here we go.” She brought the washcloth over to Jules, pulled back the covers and plumped up the pillows. “Is there anything else you need?” she asked, hoping against hope Jules would just drop it. She could already feel Deke’s eyes boring into her.
Jules, however, wasn’t cooperating one bit. “How can you be so nice to me?”
Forcing a smile, Fitz said, “You’re my sister. Of course I’m being nice.”
“Half-sister,” Jules corrected gently, “and we never let you forget it back then, did we? Even though what Dad did hurt you as much as it hurt us.” She put her arms around herself. “I wanted everyone at school to hate you. Nate’s blamed Jeremiah for all this time, but he should have been blaming me.”
Jeremiah was a jerk. Fitz had known that from the first time she laid eyes on him, three days after she’d started at her new school. She remembered as clearly as if it had been yesterday, in fact. The tornado happened in July, so the summer itself was mostly a blur, but she’d resolved to move forward as best she could on that first day of school and it had gone much better than anticipated. It was day two when the news about who she was came out and everything crashed and burned. By day three she’d begun to make her list of who to avoid as much as possible, with Jeremiah being at the top, something she’d kept to herself for all of the seventeen years since.
But it was fine. If Jules needed this to process what was going on with the man as part of their divorce, Fitz could handle it. In the scheme of things, it wasn’t that big of a deal.
“I’m okay with the nickname, Ju
les.”
The nickname hadn’t come until the spring and by that time Fitz had developed a much thicker skin. No, it hadn’t exactly been her favorite moment to sit in her history class and endure an entire discussion on how medieval law handled bastard children. Or to find out that “Fitz” was the surname they’d used at the time. But when her teacher had looked right at her and provided “Fitzpatrick” as an example, Fitz had known the town would never forgive Patrick Hawkins or his illegitimate daughter for what he’d done, and she’d better get used to it. Jeremiah started calling her Fitz and it stuck.
But it was something Fitz had actually come to take pride in. Well, not pride so much as I don’t give a fuck, a feeling Nate had helped her perfect.
“Really,” she said. “I wouldn’t have let people call me that for all these years if it was a problem.”
Except then Jules teared up. “Not the nickname.” She shook her head. “I just found out what Peggy did.”
Fitz’s first thought was, That’s why you drank so much today?
But then she realized the ramifications of that statement and all the air left her lungs as she froze in place.
Please do not be referring to the most humiliating moment of my entire life.
Please do not be referring to it in front of Deke, of all people.
The ground dropped out from beneath Fitz’s feet and her head started spinning, and not in a happy-ish, Tilt-A-Whirl way.
“I think maybe they did it because of Jeremiah,” Jules was saying, “Because he kept teasing you and I didn’t make him stop. But I...I didn’t know. I swear I didn’t kno—”
Deke started toward them, a look of confusion on his face as he started to say, “Know what?” But Fitz spoke over him and asked, “How did you find out?”
“Tristan told me,” Jules said. “Over dinner last night.”
Tristan was Tuck’s younger brother. He’d been a couple of years ahead in school and a friend of Jeremiah’s. More a friend of Jules, apparently, since he’d taken her side in the divorce, but they’d all known each other for a really long time. He’d even dated Peggy for a while after she and Nate broke up. Then again, so had Deke.
