Lucy sat on one of the metal bleachers, sipping her coffee in the muggy morning air. The temperature hadn’t reached stifling, but by midmorning, it would be a scorcher. Bugs swarmed in circles over the grassy field, and the air smelled damp with morning dew. When she’d left the kitchen earlier, she’d splashed cold water on her face to help the wake-up process, thrown on a pair of yellow nylon Nike shorts, an orange-and-white T-shirt with “Eat a Peach” on the back, and sneakers. She’d knotted her hair on top of her head and wore a skinny rubber headband to keep the flyaways off her face. Not that she had any intention of taking off down the track like Brogan and Parker, whose long legs made running look effortless. Not in this lifetime. She was content to sit and watch the glorious display of well-toned muscles rippling under bronzed skin—Brogan’s, of course. Not her nephew’s. That would be creepy.
When Brogan approached her, he had Parker doing short sprints between orange cones on the red-surfaced track. “Time to get your legs moving.” He reached for her hand.
“Not gonna happen. I’m not running with you guys.” She tried pulling back, with no success, as he propelled her off the bleachers. “And why am I being tortured? I wasn’t the one who snuck out after curfew.”
“Come on. You don’t have to run, but you can walk a few laps, right?” Brogan placed her coffee cup on the bleacher. “Do a few jumping jacks to get your heart and legs moving.” He cocked his head. “Please. Don’t you want to set a good example for Parker?”
No. She really wanted to crawl back into bed and sleep for a month. Preferably with Brogan. Except with him, she’d be doing more than sleeping. What? Lucy’s naughty thoughts shocked her into jumping like no Jack had ever seen.
Brogan chuckled. “Slow it down there, Richard Simmons. You’ll give yourself a heart attack.” He trotted toward Parker as she slowed her flapping arms and legs to a more normal speed, enjoying the view. Straining muscles and glistening sweat on Brogan Reese was a mighty fine sight. Maybe she’d learn to run or jog or jump rope or whatever if it meant ogling his chiseled form. Inspiration didn’t come any finer. Sigh. Lucy sucked in huge breaths as Brogan and Parker headed down the track in a fast jog.
Just when she thought she’d dodged the exercise bullet, Brogan turned and jogged backward. “Come on, Lucy! Start walking. Give me two laps.” She’d like to give him a kick to his shin in her pointed Jimmy Choo pumps.
“Don’t make me come get you,” he yelled, laughing.
“Go on. Be healthy. I’m walking, but that doesn’t mean I have to like it,” she yelled back as she started around the track at a brisk pace.
* * *
Brogan couldn’t keep the smile from his face as he drove a pooped Parker and perky Lucy back to their house. Parker had risen to the challenge and shown real potential. After Brogan had shared stories about his playing days, Parker had warmed up to him and started listening, asking smart questions about running plays and leading as quarterback. Even Little Lucy showed promise as she power walked three laps around the track. Bright pink glowed on her cheeks, and light shone in her gray eyes. Exercise looked good on Lucy…real good. He tried not to stare at the trickle of perspiration that snaked down her neck, across her chest, and into her rock-star cleavage. Her V-neck T-shirt clung to her form, and he didn’t dare contemplate what “Eat a Peach” meant, because it conjured up images of juicy, sweet peaches, along with other fantasies. All starring Lucy in various stages of undress. Slam that door closed, man. Not now. Not here. And not with Little Lucy Doolan.
“Well, this has been an interesting morning. Can’t say I’ve ever spent one like it before,” Lucy said as she pressed the icy water bottle to her flushed cheeks and then to her heated chest. Brogan tore his gaze away and concentrated on the curve in the road approaching Daffodil Lane.
“How do you feel, Parker?” she asked.
“Fine.”
“You did real well out there. I was impressed. Looking forward to starting practice on Monday?”
“I guess. Maybe if I had more…” Stubborn pride stopped Parker as he shifted in the backseat, crossing his arms over his sweaty T-shirt.
What was one more day with the kid? He was going to exercise anyway, so if the kid wanted to join him, then he didn’t have a problem. “I’ll be by tomorrow. Same time. We can run a few different drills. Okay?”
“Yeah, sure. I can do that.” Eagerness lit Parker’s usually sullen face.
“Gah! Does this mean what I think it means?” Lucy said.
Brogan pulled the car in the driveway and killed the engine. “Drink plenty of liquids today and eat some protein,” he said to Parker’s image in the rearview mirror.
“Got it. See ya tomorrow, Brogan.” Parker bounded from the backseat.
“And no more sneaking out,” Brogan called before Parker slammed the car door and vaulted over the blooming daylilies, heading for the front door.
He turned to Lucy’s flushed, suspicious face.
“Please tell me I’m not getting up again at the godforsaken hour of six.”
“No can do.” Her gray eyes narrowed under thick lashes. “I’ll bring more coffee and another treat.” He grinned. “Admit it. You had fun.” She gave a snort. “You were even singing while you walked…I guess it was singing. Sounded more like a dying bullfrog. Hard to tell.”
Lucy rubbed her damp hands down the front of her shorts. “Everyone sounds like a dying bullfrog when they try to imitate Adele. If you don’t want me to offend your ears, you better add earbuds to your list of goodies. I can’t find mine.”
“How’s that going to help? You’ll sing even louder because you can’t hear yourself.”
“Not me. I only improve when I hear the music.” Lucy snapped her fingers and started swaying in her seat as she belted a verse from “Rumour Has It.”
“Christ. Stop that croaking. I’ll bring buds and earplugs for Parker and me.”
Lucy snapped her mouth shut and grinned. “Thanks. You’re a real prince. Now, I need to check on the bedridden princess inside and eat a box of Pop-Tarts. Want some?”
She had the diet of a river rat. “Hell no. Eat something healthy.”
She reached for the door handle. “Okay. I’ll eat a Snickers bar. It’s chock-full of peanuts.” He glared at her. “What?”
“Look, give me an hour, and I’ll be back to pick you up. I’ll bring some food when I come.”
“Why are you coming back? I don’t need a food Nazi calculating my intake.”
“To help you get your car. Remember? The steaming bucket of bolts you left on the side of the road? If we don’t hurry, someone’s gonna cart it off and park it next to their double-wide and use it as a dog house.”
“Pickled pops on a stick.” She gave a huge sigh that drew his attention to her plump breasts. He tried leveling his gaze on her stubborn chin. “Okay. But you better not bring any quinoa or flaxseed. I hate that stuff.” She hopped from the car and slammed the door. As she trotted toward the house, he couldn’t help but admire the cute sway of her butt. She looked good in workout clothes. She probably looked even better out of them. Nope. Not gonna happen. He shook his head, willing away the image of Lucy wearing only him and a satisfied smile. Nothing a pile of unpaid bills and crunching lagging sales numbers with Javier wouldn’t cure. That and maybe three or thirty cold showers and having his eyes surgically removed from his head.
* * *
“Candy corn niblets.” Lucy rushed around the kitchen, trying to make Julia’s eggs as specified. Her success rate didn’t seem any better than the day before. The good news: Parker actually spoke in a civil tone when she asked him to pour his mom’s cranberry juice and fix her special mint-flavored water.
She slid the mangled eggs on the Lenox china plate rimmed with pink roses. “They don’t look so bad, do they?”
Parker leaned over her shoulder and grunted. “I wouldn’t e
at ’em.”
Neither would she.
“Parker, run outside and pick some of those black-eyed Susans for your mom. Let’s make her tray pretty, and maybe she won’t notice the burnt toast and green eggs and ham.”
“Yeah, like that’s gonna help,” he mumbled. “She’s pregnant, not blind.”
“Lucy! What’s taking so long?” Julia’s bellow carried down the hall.
“Parker, hurry.” He dragged his feet to the back door as she opened upper cabinets, searching for a bud vase. “Coming, Julia! Be there in a sec.”
Parker returned moments later, holding three black-eyed Susan’s with their perfect black velvet middles. “Nice. See that vase up there?” She pointed to the top shelf. “Pull it down for me, please.”
He reached up without standing on his toes or having to drag a stepladder over. So unfair. “Thanks.” She filled the vase with water and shoved the flowers in. Picking up the tray, she asked, “You coming?”
Parker opened the fridge and peered inside. “In a minute.”
“Oh…okay. Well, I’m off. You know…to feed your mom and—”
“Aunt Lucy, quit stalling. She gets bitch…er, crabby when she doesn’t eat.”
Bitchy. He had it right the first time. “Right. Okay, wish me luck.”
Parker gave her the you’re-so-weird-I-can’t-believe-we’re-related look. Lucy straightened her shoulders and marched down the hall to the ominous tune of Jaws playing inside her head.
Chapter 10
“Mom…Aunt Lucy. Brogan’s here,” Parker announced forty-five minutes later as he rapped his knuckles on his mom’s bedroom door. Lucy had been taking extensive notes on all that needed to be done that day, while trying to keep from bludgeoning herself with the brass andirons framing the fireplace. Lucy didn’t envy her stepsister. Sitting around all day had to be as boring as watching hair grow. But this to-do list as long as her arm made Lucy’s temp job as the U-Store-Em manager, where she sat in a trailer and babysat empty self-storage units, seem like a day on South Beach.
“Brogan? Really?” Julia perked up at the mention of her old boyfriend. “Parks, tell him to come in.” Parker nodded and turned to go. “Wait! Give me five minutes.” Julia smoothed the front of her light-pink cotton tank top that did nothing to hide the tops of her voluptuous, milk-filled breasts. “Luce, grab my hairbrush, mirror, and makeup bag on the bathroom counter.”
Great. Helping her beautiful sister primp for Brogan made her stomach queasy.
“And don’t forget my eyelash curler,” Julia said as Lucy rummaged through her sister’s designer cosmetics in the master bathroom.
Five minutes and a glamorized Julia later, Brogan strolled through the bedroom door, holding a beautiful bouquet of light-pink peonies and a green shopper filled with food from BetterBites. “Hey there, Julia. How you feeling?” he asked in a soft, concerned voice intended to soothe the crabbiest of hearts.
“Brogan.” His name rolled off her tongue in a sigh. “For me?” Perfectly manicured hands reached for the bouquet. “They’re lovely.” She brought the flowers to her nose, inhaling while slanting him a provocative glance. “Lucy, be a love and put these in some water.” Julia used her saccharine-sweet voice, which grated on Lucy’s last remaining nerve. Thrusting the bouquet at her with one hand, Julia indicated the pink chair with her other. “Brogan, please sit.”
Brogan paused before dropping into the chair. A whiff of clean soap and expensive leather reached Lucy’s nose as he filled the feminine room, giving it a much-needed boost of testosterone. Leaning on his forearms, he fiddled with the straps of the shopper. Brogan wore a green polo shirt with a yellow BetterBites logo over his left breast, and a tight expression on his face. Maybe sitting in a room the color of Pepto-Bismol, with a seven-month pregnant ex-girlfriend, made him uncomfortable. Lucy couldn’t imagine why.
“I’ll put these in water,” she said, watching Julia preen like a pink flamingo, slicking her tongue over rosy-glossed lips. Brogan cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. Awkward.
“Lucy, bring Brogan a drink, please,” Julia ordered.
“No! Thank you. No drink for me.” The frantic sound of his tone made Lucy pause.
“Are you sure? Lucy doesn’t mind. That’s what she’s here for.” Big blue eyes batted in Brogan’s direction.
To fetch and wait on Julia and her entourage. Funny, Lucy thought she was here to help take care of Parker and to keep Julia from going into early labor.
Brogan nodded. “Positive.”
“Oh. Well, Lucy, please brew a pot of fresh coffee. Amanda and Marcia are stopping by for a visit,” she said in a clipped voice.
“Yes, ma’am!” Lucy saluted and bowed out of the room but not before she caught Julia’s bitchy glare-down and Brogan’s attempt to hide a chuckle with a forced cough.
Lucy dropped the bouquet of peonies on the creamy tile countertop and started the pot of coffee. The nosy part of her wished she’d stayed in the room to hear the reuniting couple’s every word. The freaked-out part wanted to run to the nearest bar and get snockered. Staying away all these years had done nothing to her stupid, weak heart. Talk about a dumb muscle. It did nothing but race, causing high blood pressure, and then broke into millions of pieces every time she allowed it to surge, searching for love.
Opening upper cabinets, she hunted for a vase. Parker, having mastered “evade and hide,” had bolted downstairs to play his computer games. She hated to call him back up to help her hunt. She spied a crystal vase tucked in the corner on the highest shelf. She went in search of a stepladder but came up empty. She improvised by pushing an old ladder-back kitchen chair with a rush seat next to the counter. Jiggling it to test for sturdiness, she started to climb.
“What are you doing?”
Lucy wobbled at the sound of Brogan’s voice, and the rush seat beneath her feet gave a moaning creak. “Whoa.” She grabbed hold of the cabinet door for stability at the same time Brogan encircled her waist in a tight grip. The seat creaked again under her weight. “I don’t like the sounds of that.”
“Me either.” He lifted her by the waist and placed her feet back on the sturdy tile floor. “Allow me.” He pointed with his finger. “Which one?”
Brain freeze. Brogan’s other hand still rested on her waist as if it belonged there, causing temporary amnesia. “Uh, the crystal one in the right corner,” she said, shaking her head clear.
Lucy stepped away from Brogan’s heat. “Where’s Parker? He could’ve gotten it for you.”
With trembling hands, Lucy placed the vase under the kitchen faucet. “He already played Green Giant earlier, and I hated to ask again.” She arranged the peonies. “There. Perfect.” She extended the flowers to Brogan, maintaining a proper distance.
He picked up the BetterBites shopper and turned his back as he started unloading containers of prepared food in the refrigerator.
“Don’t you want to take the flowers to Julia?”
“Not really,” he said with his head halfway inside the fridge.
“Oh. All done reminiscing? That didn’t take long.” And didn’t that make Lucy happy?
“I’ll be back. We have more catching up to do. Today, we discussed business.” He finished emptying the bag. “Tell Parker to take the flowers to his mother. You ready to go?”
Yes. No. Not with you. Again. Sheesh.
“Okay, give me a sec.” She placed the peonies on the kitchen table and went to the opened basement door. “Parker? Come here, please.” To Brogan, waiting patiently in the kitchen, she said, “Be right back.”
In her bedroom she retrieved her handbag. She caught her reflection in the white oval mirror over her dresser. Biting her bottom lip, she hesitated for less than a second before rushing into the bathroom and pulling a comb through her hair, securing it with a ponytail holder, swiping mascara on her eyelashes and blush on her
cheeks. She reached for her favorite bottle of Viva la Juicy and spritzed behind her ears and down her cleavage. Smoothing her hair one last time, she left the room and reentered the kitchen. Parker slouched against the countertop, waiting.
“Parker, please deliver these flowers to your mom. Fresh coffee has been brewed. Amanda and Marcia can serve themselves.” She motioned to the coffeepot and mugs on the counter. “I’m going to pick up my poor car and then run your mom’s errands. Anything you need while I’m out?”
Parker shoved his hands in the back of his bright-blue Nike shorts and gave Lucy his classic bored look. “What’s for lunch? I’m starved.”
“Oh. Lunch. Didn’t you just eat breakfast?”
“I’ve stocked the fridge with some healthy meals you can microwave. There’s fresh fruit too. Keep drinking water to stay hydrated,” Brogan said, digging for his keys in his pocket.
Parker gave a jerky nod. “Sure.”
“Wow, Parker. Looks like you’ve got your own personal trainer,” Lucy said.
“Not officially, but I have trained enough over the years and know from experience.” Brogan pointed a finger at Parker. “Do not follow your aunt’s lead in the food department.” He gestured at the package of Double Stuf Oreos on the countertop.
“Studies have shown that chocolate is good for you.” Lifting her nose, she shoved the cookies in an upper cabinet and closed the door.
“Dark chocolate, and only in small quantities.”
“Whatever.” Lucy ruffled Parker’s soft, dark hair. “Call if you need me.” She leaned close to tuck down the tag at his collar and whispered, “I’ll bring you a milk shake from the Dog.” Surprised, Parker’s face brightened, and Lucy winked.
* * *
Lucy’s citrusy scent filled the interior of his car and Brogan’s head as he drove down Main Street back toward the highway.
Not So New in Town Page 8
