“And I’ll let you show my sketches to my aunt if you promise to tell her how you feel about her.”
Clancy’s face clouded for a moment. “Tell the beautiful Maureen how I feel?” He almost shook his head, then realized perhaps now, finally, it was time. He looked at Mattie, saw the hope in her eyes and decided the time was right. Aye, after more than twenty-five years, and following her halfway around the world to be near her, perhaps it was time to confess what he’d harbored for so long in his heart. “Aye, lass, you drive a hard bargain.”
“Then you’ll do it?” Mattie asked hopefully.
“Well, I certainly can’t just burst out with the news,” he said with a quick grin. “But, methinks it might be time to start courting her.” He laughed. “Of course, she could simply turn a deaf ear, but…” He glanced down at Mattie’s sketches. “If you’ve got the courage to face your fears, then how could I do less?”
“Thanks, Clancy.” She hugged him tighter, then kissed his cheek again. “She might surprise you.”
“Aye, lass, she might indeed.” His heart began to thump at the mere thought of finally having his beloved Maureen after all these years.
He couldn’t wait to share the news about Mattie with Maureen, as well. She needed to know what a treasure she had right under her nose. And it would please her so, he realized, knowing how much she cared for the lass.
He drew back and looked at Mattie. “Now, lass, are you done…not crying for the day?” he asked with a grin, and she nodded, then laughed.
“Yes, Clancy, I am.”
“Good, then. It’s time for you to go home to the little lads,” he said as he rubbed a hand over his own tired eyes.
“I think that’s the best idea I’ve heard all day.” Mattie glanced at him, then leaned forward and kissed his cheek, realizing how much better she felt now. “Thanks, Clancy.”
“Aye, lassie, you’re welcome. You’re very, very welcome.” With a sigh, he tucked his handkerchief back in his pocket. “You run along now, lass. I’ve still got some work to do, so I’ll lock up when I leave.”
“You’re sure you don’t mind?” Mattie asked as he took her arm with one hand and picked up her purse with the other, pressing it into her hand. “Nay, not at all.” He grinned as he hustled her to the door, holding on to her sketch pad tightly. “Run along now,” he urged, opening the door for her and all but pushing her through. “I’ve got work to do.”
With a sigh, Mattie nodded, glancing back through the plate-glass windows of the gallery, wondering what on earth Clancy was up to.
Chapter Six
“Boys, I’m home,” Mattie called as she wearily let herself in the front door. The heavenly scent of something cooking assaulted her and she nearly swooned. She still hadn’t eaten a morsel all day and her empty stomach was protesting loudly. “Boys?”
“This boy’s in the kitchen,” Joe called from the kitchen.
After peeling off her suit jacket and dropping it on a dining-room chair, Mattie went into the kitchen, drawn by Joe’s voice and the heavenly aroma.
“Hi,” she said with a grin. He turned from the stove to grin back.
“Hi yourself.” His gaze studied her for a moment, then one eyebrow lifted in question. “Rough day?”
“Boy, that would be an understatement.” Nervous, she slipped her hands into the pockets of her jeans, then glanced around. “Where are the boys?”
“Upstairs in their room. They’ve been so quiet, I think they’re plotting to overthrow the government.”
“Which one?” she asked with a laugh, stepping closer to him and the stove.
“I don’t think they’re particular.”
“What smells so wonderful?” she asked suspiciously, trying to see what he was stirring. At the moment, she was standing so close to him, the only thing she could smell was his magnificent male scent. It almost made her weary legs weaker.
“Dinner,” he replied, blocking her view with his body.
“Dinner?” One eyebrow lifted and she gave him an arch look, trying to see past him. “Should I call the paramedics now? Or wait until after we’ve eaten?”
“Hey, hey, no fair. I didn’t cook it.” Turning to her with a wooden spoon in his hand, he grinned. “I just warmed it up.”
“Warmed it up?” She stepped around him, lifted the cover on the pot and inhaled deeply. “Spaghetti sauce?” She glanced up at him, aware that he was mere inches from her. Close enough for her to feel his body heat.
“Yep. Gina’s specialty. There’s chicken Parmesan warming in the oven, along with garlic bread. The boys and I tossed a salad—and I do mean tossed in the literal sense, so be careful where you step,” he added with a laugh, making her glance down at the floor. “I’ve got a bottle of Chianti open and waiting, and as soon as the water boils and the pasta cooks we can eat.”
“Joe.” Moved, she shook her head, not certain what to say. “You didn’t have to do this,” she said softly, forcing herself to meet his gaze in spite of what it did to her pulse. “I could have made dinner when I got home. I told you that.”
“Yeah, I know.” Lifting a finger, he brushed a stray strand of hair from her cheek. “But it was no big deal. When I took the boys to get their uniforms, Gina offered to send dinner over. I may be a culinary idiot, but I’m not a fool. I’m not about to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
Impulsively, she leaned forward and gently touched her lips to his. “Thank you. I really appreciate it, especially tonight.”
He slid his arm around her waist to hold her in place. “What happened today that put those shadows under your eyes?” Cocking his head, he looked at her more closely. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you’d been crying.” When she didn’t answer, but merely glanced away, he sighed. “Okay, if that’s the way it’s going to be. Turn around,” he ordered, and she blinked in confusion at him.
“Excuse me?”
“Turn around,” he instructed, taking her by the shoulders and turning her so her back was facing him. He set down the spoon, then lifted both hands to her shoulders and gently began to knead.
“Oh God,” Mattie groaned. “That feels wonderful.”
“It should,” he commented, moving his fingers in a circular motion across her shoulders. “You’re tight as a strung wire back here. Lower your chin,” he instructed, and Mattie did, feeling his fingers dip into the back of her hairline, caressing her neck and lower scalp.
Her eyes slid closed and she swayed back against him, the last of her energy draining. The pounding in her head was finally, slowly easing with the expert touch of his fingers.
“My word, Joe, where on earth did you learn to do this?” Her voice was soft, dreamy, as her entire body relaxed and responded to his touch.
He shrugged. “When you play baseball, you end up with a lot of screaming muscles. It helps to have them massaged.”
“Does this mean I have to take up baseball?” she asked, wincing as his fingertips touched a particularly tight, painful spot.
“Not with those fancy nails you’re not.”
“Sexist,” she teased.
“Realist,” he corrected, gently turning her toward him so she was facing him. “How long have you had this headache?” he asked, surprising her.
She tried to open her eyes, but as his fingers slowly pressed and caressed her temples, she simply didn’t have the willpower or the energy. “A couple of hours,” she admitted, taking a slow, deep breath.
He was standing right in front of her, close to her, and she could feel his heat, feel his touch, and it was wreaking havoc with her pulse.
“You know, Mattie, they have this new wonder drug…it’s called aspirin. It works wonders on headaches.”
“I know.” She sighed, lost in the feel of his fingers and the resulting lethargy that was stealing through her. “I took some, but they didn’t help.”
“Have you eaten?”
“You mean today?” she asked, and he laughed.
“Well,
that answers my question, I guess.” His fingers moved just above and below her collarbone and began to gently massage. “You know, you take wonderful care of the boys, but you’re falling down on the job when it comes to taking care of yourself.”
She hadn’t really heard what he said; she was too busy concentrating on what he was making her feel. The warmth of his hands, the gentleness of his fingers was making her whole body tingle. If he moved his fingers down just a few inches, he’d be caressing her breasts.
The mere thought had her nipples tightening, puckering, and Mattie took another long, deep breath, trying to ignore the feelings storming through her.
Slowly, she blinked her eyes open. He was watching her with a curious expression on his face.
“I feel much, much better, Joe,” she said softly. “Thank you.”
He slid his hand to her cheek. “You’re welcome.” His gaze stayed on hers a moment longer than necessary, then he slowly lowered his head until his mouth covered hers.
Too tired and drained to fight what she was feeling, Mattie gave in to the sensations storming her body and leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck, threading her fingers through his dark, silky hair and hanging on as he took the kiss deeper.
She felt the soft slide of his tongue, accepted it, relished it, wanting, yearning for more.
When his hands slid to her hips to draw her even closer, so her softness was pressed against his hardness, she didn’t protest, she merely savored the feelings.
His hands slid up her buttocks, to her waist, then up her back, drawing her ever closer until they were pressed tightly together, shoulder to hip, with no room for more than a breath between them.
Her fingers tangled, tightened in his hair and she moaned softly, arching in to him, wanting something she couldn’t or wouldn’t name.
With her heart thudding and her pulse scrambling, Mattie knew she was on dangerous ground. Boggy ground. And if she wasn’t careful, she would slip and fall.
And this time, she wasn’t certain she’d be able to pick herself back up again.
Reluctantly, she drew away from him, eyes glazed with passion, lips full and flushed from his.
“I…I…” She had to swallow in order to speak. “I’d…better go check on the boys,” she stammered. After everything that had happened today, she was totally depleted emotionally, which left her feeling terribly vulnerable. She wasn’t used to it and it threw her off balance.
Where Joe was concerned, she knew she had to keep her defenses up. Way up, and at the moment, with the day she’d had, and the way she was feeling, she knew it was an impossibility.
“Fine, Mattie. I’ll pour the wine. You go check on the boys.” His eyes gleamed in amusement as he flashed her that killer smile. “But I’ll still be here when you come down.” He picked up the wooden spoon and began to stir the pot on the stove.
Why, she wondered wearily, did that sound like a promise? A promise that left her smiling.
The boys weren’t exactly planning a covert military act, but instead, were plotting and planning something a bit more personal.
Sitting on the carpeted floor of the bedroom they shared, they tried to figure out how to accomplish their objective.
“You heard what Grandma said,” Cody reminded his brother with a frown as he curled his legs under him and picked at a scab on his knee. “Grandma said little boys need a father. We need one.”
“How come?” Connor asked, digging through the numerous toys in their overflowing wooden toy box for several metal cars and a couple of action figures.
“Dunno,” Cody admitted with a shrug. “Maybe it’s a rule or something.”
“Like having to wear our seat belts?” Connor wondered, and Cody shrugged his skinny shoulders again.
“Guess so.”
“So how we gonna find one?” Connor wondered, racing two metal cars against one another until they went crashing and careening into the wooden toy box.
“Beats me.” Frustrated, Cody sent two of his favorite action figures careening across the floor of blue carpeting as they engaged in an imaginary battle. “I don’t know how we find one.”
“Me neither,” Connor agreed, shrugging his shoulders helplessly and leaning back against his bed.
“Maybe we could ask someone,” Cody suggested, scrubbing a fist over his freckled nose.
“Who?”
Cody crawled on his skinned, scabby knees across the carpeted floor to retrieve his men. “Well, we can’t ask Grandma,” he said with a scowl.
“Definitely not Grandma,” Connor agreed with a scowl of his own. “Not Grandpa, either. ’Cuz then he’ll think we don’t want him to be our dad.”
“Well, we don’t,” Cody said, turning to his brother, hands defiantly on his narrow hips.
“Cody,” Connor wailed, flinging his hands in the air. “We can’t tell Grandpa we don’t want him to be our dad.”
“How come?”
“’Cuz.” Connor frowned a bit, his eyebrows drawing together over his blue eyes as he tried to figure this out. “I think it might hurt his feelings or something.”
“Yeah, maybe,” Cody agreed, glancing at his brother. “But then who we gonna ask?”
“Dunno.” Connor heaved a heavy, world-weary sigh, then curled his legs under him as he lowered his chin to rest in his hand. He did his best thinking this way. “But someone else has gotta know how we could find us a dad.”
“Yeah, but not just any dad,” Cody specified. “He’s gotta like little boys. Like us.”
“Yeah,” Connor agreed. “And he’s got to like baseball.”
“A lot,” Cody confirmed with a nod of his own head. He picked up his favorite plastic action figure, shoving the other one—the one missing an arm, and more than slightly wounded from a previous battle—into the already bulging pocket of his pajamas. “And he’s gotta not be too old,” Cody added, straightening the helmet on his action figure.
“Or have ’rthritis.” Connor brightened. “And he’s got to be nice.”
“Real nice,” Cody confirmed.
“And maybe he could like to do ’rithmetic.” Connor dug in his brother’s pocket for the wounded action figure to run around in a circle, up and over his bare foot, then back down again, making he-man growling noises deep in his throat. “Bobby Dawson said ’rithmetic is real hard.” Connor glanced up at his brother. “And you get lots of problems you have to bring home to do.”
“We have to bring work home from school?” Cody asked, rolling his eyes in disgust and making Connor shrug. “That can’t be right. Why would they make us bring work home to do?”
“Dunno.” Connor shrugged again. “That’s what Bobby Dawson said.”
“Boys?” Mattie knocked gently at the door. The boys exchanged frantic glances as the door gently opened. “Here you two are,” she said with a grin.
“Uh…hi, Mom,” Cody said, looking guilty and hoping she hadn’t heard them talking.
“Hi yourself.” Mattie sat on Cody’s bed. “So what are you guys doing?”
They exchanged glances and Mattie wanted to sigh. They were at it again. Up to something, no doubt.
“Nuthin’, Ma, honest,” Connor said, eyes wide and sincere. “We was just talking and playing with our guys.” He held up the wounded action figure to show her.
“I see.” She looked from one to the other. “Did you have a nice day?”
“Awesome,” Cody said, bouncing up and down on his knees. “Coach Joe and us, we stayed outside practicing almost all day. We got real dirty and sweaty,” he crowed proudly. “And Coach Joe, he told us lots and lots of stuff about baseball.”
“He did, did he?” Mattie reached out and ruffled her son’s hair, pleased to see him so excited and happy.
“Yep,” Connor confirmed. “And he said that if we keep practicing we’ll be real good baseball players.”
“Well, sweetheart, I think Joe’s right. If you want to be good at anything, you need to practice. That’s how you g
et good.” She glanced around their room, absently smoothing down the blue-and-white Star Wars bedspread covering Cody’s bed. “I see you picked up your room, too. Thank you. That was very nice of you to do without being told.” If she hadn’t seen it with her own eyes, she wouldn’t have believed it. Getting the boys to pick up after themselves was like trying to tap-dance down a ladder blindfolded in backless high heels.
“Coach Joe helped,” Cody said. “He told us that if we’re going to be baseball players we have to be re…re…” Cody scowled as he struggled with the word.
“Responsible?” Mattie supplied helpfully and Cody bobbed his head.
“Yeah, that’s it.”
“And we already had our baths and washed our hair,” Connor added. “Coach Joe let us wash our hair all by ourselves.” Connor giggled. “But he helped us rinse it with a bowl.”
“A bowl?” Mattie repeated with a lift of her eyebrow, wondering how bad the bathroom was after three males with a bowl had used it. “Well, that’s a new one.”
“He said when he and his brothers were little, his mom always rinsed their hair with a bowl.”
“Yeah, and we cleaned up the bathroom, too,” Cody added with a grin. “Coach Joe’s nice.”
“Yes, he is,” Mattie agreed, wondering how long the boys would remember the things Joe had tried to teach them this afternoon. It was nice, she realized, to have another adult, a male adult interacting with her sons, giving them a male perspective on things. It was something they had never had, and she realized now, listening to them, that perhaps it was something they truly needed.
She realized how grateful she was to Joe for staying with them today, and for all the kind and wonderful things he’d done for them in the past week. It was amazing what the impact of one person on two little boys could be, even in just a week.
“Yeah, Ma, Coach Joe’s real nice,” Cody added, glancing at his brother. Identical-twin faces broke out in identical, mischievous grins, making Mattie very nervous, not to mention slightly suspicious. Lord, she hoped they weren’t up to something. Again.
Daddy Patrol Page 14
