by EC Sheedy
“Yes, but damn it. I’m going to kill Phylly. That’s not something you tell a girl over the phone. Cornie must be half out of her mind.” April took a few steps, hoping to calm down. It didn’t work. “Sometimes that woman is so incredibly thoughtless, she makes me crazy.”
Joe raised a brow. “Be careful. That’s my mother you’re talking about.”
She looked at him, felt her eyes widen, a quick soft flutter near her heart. It was the first time Joe had openly acknowledged her as his mother.
“And as for Cornie,” he went on. “She’s as pissed off as you are. Seems Phylly’s good at bringing out the inner beast in people she cares about.”
“And who care about her.” She stared at him, hoping he wouldn’t look away. Maybe she was pushing it, maybe it was too soon to hope.
Silence filled the glass house, even as some early rays of sun bounced off its reflective surface. “Cornie’s not the only one who’s talked to her mother.” He looked at her, his expression grimly humorous. “She does good phone.”
“Yes, she does.” She held her breath.
“We’re going to—and here’s that word you love so much— talk when we get to the hospital. We’re going to goddamn Starbucks.”
“Phylly loves Starbucks.”
He came to her and took her face in his hands. “I wasn’t so good with the words last night. I’m sorry for that. But there’s one thing I want you to know. I might not get all soft and gooey about finding my mother—I’ll work on that— but that forgiveness thing you’re fretting about? I don’t think you should worry about that anymore.” He stroked her cheeks with his thumbs, bent his head to brush his lips lightly across her own. “How could I not forgive a mother who not only saved my life but gifted me with a teenage sister who holds the record for the biggest mouth in America, and who”—he kissed her again—“rescued and kept safe for me the woman I love—and the woman I want to spend all my tomorrows with?”
Breathless now, April murmured, “That would be hard.”
“It would be impossible.”
Chapter 32
“How are you fixed for boiled oil-slick this morning, Riggs?”
Donny Riggs looked up from his morning newspaper. “Hey, Joe. Back from away are ya?” He swiveled his chair enough to deal with his coffeemaker. A big, new shiny one he’d ordered from Italy. Grazie, Italia. Riggs had finally figured out it was a felony to serve bad coffee in Seattle—which didn’t mean Joe had quit giving him a hard time.
“Where ya been, anyway?” Riggs asked.
“In the last couple of months—pretty much everywhere. Until a few days ago Mexico City.”
And when he wasn’t traveling for business, Joe was carving a mile-deep rut in 1-5 between Seattle and Portland, spending every possible moment with April. But in a couple of months, she’d be finished with her costume design internship then—hallelujah—they’d start planning a real life. Together.
“What about that pretty woman you got? She gonna like that—all that traveling you do?” He put the steaming coffee in front of Joe and watched him cap it.
“It’s what I do. She’s good with it.” He shoved a fiver across the counter. Like I’m good with her getting that job offer from Hollywood. Hell, if that’s what she wanted— where she wanted to be—that’s where they’d go. He could work from anywhere.
“So if you’ve been home for the last week, how come I haven’t seen ya?”
“Now you want to see my punch card?” No way was he going to explain to Riggs that he’d been spending his time checking out a special gift for April, making sure everything was exactly right.
He glanced at his watch. April said she’d be at his office by eleven, which meant he had twenty minutes, so he’d better move his ass. He headed down the street.
“Joe?”
Joe stopped, waited for the inevitable. “Yeah?”
Donny poked an index finger at the morning paper. “Says here you gotta be ready for the unexpected today. Says things aren’t going to go as planned. Says there’s only one right answer to a woman’s question.” He squinted at the paper. “And it says—and I’m not kidding—there’s going to be a new man in your life.” Grinning, he looked up. “You got something you’re not telling me?”
“No ensnarling snakes this time?”
“No snakes.”
Joe lifted his coffee cup in salute and turned the corner. He pulled out his phone, checked the time, and punched a number. “Hey, Julius. Are they there?”
“They’re here.”
“Good. If the 1-5 doesn’t do a number on April’s ETA, we should be right on time.”
He clicked off, shoved the cell into his inside pocket, and tried to ignore what else was in there. If he thought about that, he’d get the shakes. And today wasn’t about that. Today was about April. A minute later he was in the stairwell and starting up the first set of stairs leading to his office.
“Hey, big boy, wanna have a good time?”
The low, sultry voice came from behind him. Turning, he cocked his head. “Depends on whether the price is right.”
“The price is whatever you’re willing to pay.”
“And I can have it here? Now?”
“You can have it any way—and any time—you want it.”
“Now that’s a deal any man in his right mind wouldn’t refuse.” Joe pulled April into his arms and kissed her until neither of them could breathe. When his lungs got their groove back, he said, “You’re early.”
“I was worried about the traffic so I got an earlier start.” She wrapped her arms around him and rested her head against his shoulder. “You okay with that?”
His answer was to pull back so he could lift her face and kiss her senseless again.
“Hey, Joe. I guess saying have a good day would be overkill, huh?”
A man’s amused voice penetrated Joe’s brain fog, but he didn’t take his eyes from April, the laughter in her eyes. “My day couldn’t be better.” And it could only go up from here.
April stepped back and smoothed her hair behind her ear, still smiling. “A neighbor.”
“Office down the hall.” He copied her action and smoothed her hair. “You ready?”
“Where are we going exactly?” She tilted her head. “And why all the mystery?”
“Answer to first question—Julius’s for lunch. The second? You’ll see when we get there.” He kissed her nose. “No more questions. You’ve used up your quota.” He turned her toward the exit door. “Now move that miraculous butt of yours.”
“I love a man who takes charge—especially when they compliment my butt when they do it.” She moved.
They were on the street almost to his car when his phone rang. When he reached in to take it from his pocket, his hand brushed the other small package—sitting in his inside pocket like a hard, glowing coal. He clicked on, arched a brow in April’s direction, and said, “Yes, Mother Dearest, it’s definitely happening. Forty-five minutes tops . . . and, yes, I’ll call. . . . How’s Vegas—or more important—how’s Noah’s tolerance level? Is he missing his trees yet? . . . . Uh- huh.” He glanced down at April, ran a finger along her jaw. “She’s right here. I’ll ask her.” He dropped the hand holding the phone. “She wants to know if we’ll do a glass box weekend with them when you’re finished your internship.”
“Absolutely.”
“You’re on,” he said into the phone. “Yes. I said I’d call and I will . . . . Now get back to taking care of that man of yours—while I take care of your daughter.” He clicked off. The phone rang again immediately. Joe looked at the call display. “Cornie,” he said, and clicked on. At this rate they’d never get to Jules. “Yes, I’ll call. I promise . . . . You think that’s a good idea? The guy’s leg isn’t a hundred percent, you know. You should take it easy on him . . . . Real easy.” He looked up at the sky, wondered how he’d got from minus zero in the family/female department to thrice blessed—and dazed and confused—in under three months. And
he wouldn’t trade a second of it. “Bye, Cornball, see you soon.”
“What’s going on?”
“Noah’s going riding with her this afternoon.” He held up a hand to stave off the protests he knew were coming. “Noah knows his limits, April. It’ll be fine.” He hoped. Because if Cornie asked Noah to ride a hungry croc, the man would do it. Noah didn’t just dote on his newfound daughter, he was certifiably gaga. He’d told Joe that finding Phylly and Cornie made his life complete. It was as if a circle had closed around everyone he’d ever loved, he’d said, adding, “I’d die for them, Joe—and I’ve never felt anything like that in my whole life.” Joe knew the feeling.
They walked a few steps before April said, “You know that old saw, about there being ‘fortune in mis fortune’?”
“Uh-huh.”
“After all that horrible mess with Quinlan Braid, have you ever seen a situation where that saying fits more? There’s been so many good things. Not just you and me— but you and your mother, Noah and Cornie . . . Phylly and Noah.” She shook her head. “I mean, really, if those two came from different planets, they couldn’t be more different. Noah with his attachment to the wilderness and Phylly with her love of . . . just the opposite.” She chewed her lip briefly. “Do you think it will work out for them? Over the long-term, I mean.”
They were at his car, so he took the time spent opening the door for her and walking around to the driver’s side before he answered. “I think it will work—because they both want it to work, and they’ll do what it takes to make it happen.”
“You mean that living-in-two-places thing they’ve got planned.”
“Yes.”
“I guess.” She didn’t sound convinced. “But it’s hard to visualize Phylly in hiking boots for six months of the year.”
“Or Noah in a town that never turns the lights off?”
She nodded, smiled at him. “But it’s going to be damned entertaining to watch.”
“That it will be,” he agreed. Like it will be entertaining watching you in the next hour—and for the rest of my life.
It wasn’t until they took the last step leading to Jules’s massive front doors that April noticed how uptight Joe was. The closer they’d come to Julius Zern’s place, the quieter he became. Now his lips were one straight line, and he looked as if he were heading for surgery rather than lunch at his best friend’s home.
Not that April didn’t have a worry or two of her own. She had a few things to say to Joe Worth before she headed back to Portland. But it would have to wait until they were alone. For what she needed to say—they needed privacy.
The door opened, but it wasn’t Jules who answered it; it was a redheaded woman wearing jeans and a white shirt. Her too-curly red hair tied back with a—yes, atrocious— yellow scarf.
“Hi, I’m Keeley Farrell,” she said to April. “Julius asked me to welcome you.” Her blue eyes, oddly dark for a fair-skinned redhead, skipped from Joe to April—and filled up with questions. “And you’re April.” She shook her head. “I still can’t believe it.” Her eyes misted.
April glanced at Joe—who appeared to have donned an unreadable mask—but all he did was shrug. She looked back to Keeley Farrell, not sure what to say.
“Come in, come in.” Keeley brushed at the moisture under her eyes and moved aside to let them in. “And don’t mind me. It’s just that I know he’s been waiting so long.” April stepped into Julius’s grand front hall. “You’ll have to excuse me, but I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Again she looked at Joe, and this time he smiled.
“Not exactly how I had it planned, Keeley,” he said to the woman. “But let’s do it.”
When he took April’s elbow, she dug her heels in. “Do what? What’s going on here?”
“There’s someone here for you, April. Someone waiting for you.”
“I don’t understand. Who? Who’s waiting for me?” Her heart did a sudden unexpected lurch.
A voice came from the study doorway. “That’d be me, April. And I’ve been waiting one hell of a long time.”
She spun around to see a tall dark man standing in the doorway. His face was scarred on one side, and he was taller and leaner than she’d imagined him, but she knew him instantly. “Oh, God . . . It’s you. Gus. It’s really you.” Her heart pounded crazily, like a hundred dogs throwing themselves against a cage. Gus. My brother. . . Her eyes saw him, her heart recognized him, but her feet refused to move. They were as heavy and solid as the marble she stood on. “Gus,” she said again. “I can’t—” The tears came in a rush, spilling from her eyes, blinding her. She thought of Phylly fainting on first sight of Joe. No, she wouldn’t . . .
Gus closed the distance between them. Clasping her shoulders, he lowered his head and looked into her eyes. He looked as though he might say something, instead he pulled her roughly to his chest. “Christ, April, I was beginning to believe this would never happen—that I’d never find you.”
She hugged him fiercely, never wanting to let go. Over Gus’s shoulder she saw Julius Zern, his face closed and stoic. Inexplicably sad. When their eyes met he smiled fleetingly, nodded, and went back into the kitchen.
Joe, grinning as if he’d bought all of California for a dollar, stood beside Keeley who wept openly. Pulling a pack of tissue from her pocket, she handed Joe one. He took it, but looked at it as if it needed instructions.
Keeley touched his arm. “Let’s go into the kitchen, keep your partner company. I think those two”—she gestured with her chin toward April and Gus—“have a lot of catching up to do.”
“Just a minute,” April said, pulling away from Gus long enough to wrap her arms around Joe’s waist and say, “You did this, Joe. I know you did. And I’ll never forget that. I’ll love you forever for it.” The hug she gave him was even fiercer than the one she’d just given her brother. If she’d been holding back even the smallest piece of her heart from Joe Worth, in this moment, it was lost forever. “Thank you. Thank you.”
“And Julius. I couldn’t have done it without him,” Joe said and grinned. “But I’d appreciate it if you’d make that love part exclusive.” He kissed her forehead, held her away from him. “Now go. Keeley here—who by the way is soon to become your sister-in-law—is right. You and Gus have a lot of ground to cover.”
With that Joe and Keeley went into the kitchen. April took Gus’s arm, looked into his chocolate-colored eyes and said, “It was you, wasn’t it, who came to my apartment looking for me? You talked to my landlady?”
“She said you’d skipped.” His mouth tightened. “To think I was so close.”
April swallowed, then breathing deeply, happily, she said, “That doesn’t matter. Nothing matters except that we’re together. I want to hear everything, Gus. Absolutely everything.”
Morning came, bringing crisp autumn air, sunshine, and the salt scent of the ocean coming off Puget Sound. Waking, the only problem Joe had was not having April in his arms. But he did have her in his line of vision. She was standing on his deck, leaning on the rail, and looking at the water— wearing one of his big ugly sweat sets that was miles too big for her slender frame. With the sun making her hair gold and her skin all pale and soft looking, she made his heart stop.
He pulled on some jeans, didn’t bother with a shirt and went to join her. Coming up behind her, he wrapped her in his arms. “It’s cold out here,” he whispered in her ear.
She melted back into him. “Not anymore.”
For a time they stood there, caught in the morning quiet, content with each other’s silence, content in each other’s arms.
Finally, she turned to look at him. “I’ve been thinking how in the past few months just about everything in my life has gone right, Phylly being so happy, meeting my grandfather—”
“Who you didn’t like a whole lot.”
Her brows knit briefly. “Yeah, well, I’m working on that.” She paused. “Finding Gus again—”
“Priceless.” He quoted the old Ma
sterCard commercial and she smiled.
“Definitely. And that brings me to you. To us.” She put both her hands on his chest, rubbed idly.
“What about us?” he asked, stilling her hands so he could keep his mind on the subject—instead of what her hands were doing to his heart rate.
“I love you, Joe. Seriously and crazily love you.”
“That’s a two-way street, April. You must know that— God knows I’ve told you often enough.”
She nodded again, slowly, thoughtfully, before saying, “If there’s one thing Phylly taught me, it was to go for what you wanted in life. Up ’til now that’s been simple, college, my design work, the internship—”
“And now?”
“It’s not so simple. Because I want you, Joe. I want you to marry me. I want it to be you and me against the world, loving and legal—forever and always.”
Joe closed his eyes. “You cannot do this to me.”
“I can’t ask you to marry me? There’s a law?” She smiled. The woman was damn sure of herself. And he was glad of it.
“I thought you didn’t want to talk about ‘serious stuff’ until you were done in Portland.” Her words exactly, which he’d set about choosing to ignore.
“I changed my mind. Last night when you closed the door behind us and had your way with me against the wall.”
“The wall? That’s when you decided you and I should get married.” Okay, so his male brain wasn’t getting this. The smart money was on keeping his mouth shut and his ears open.
“Uh-huh.” She pulled down the gaping neck on the sweat top she was wearing. “And I’ve got the bruise to prove it. See.”
He leaned in, looked hard. She was bruised all right, a tiny little square bruise the color of lilacs. Right at the top of her breast. She touched his chest, left side. “It was right about there, I think.” She extended her right hand, did her gimme thing and raised a brow, her green eyes glowing with one-upmanship
She had him. But then she had since the day she’d walked into his life. “I guess branding you with the ring box was a bad idea, huh?”
