by Karen Renee
He opened his office door to see Meg adding two proposal files to his box. “You got two different versions of the same RFP?”
She grinned and shook her head. “No, sir. On my way back from my forced coffee break, I heard about a new project the city’s taking RFPs for, and I looked it up when I got back. Deadline is Friday, and I thought you might be interested, so I put it together. If you’re not, then no harm no foul.”
“Like your initiative, Meg, but next time give me a verbal heads-up so you don’t waste your time in case I’m not willing to take on more work.”
“Will do, boss.”
He noticed the time on the wall clock. “Good work today. How about you cut out?”
“Don’t have to tell me twice. See you tomorrow.”
HE FINISHED HIS SECOND beer, debating when to call Kenzie. His cell rang, and he saw it was her.
“You must be readin’ my mind, Zee. I was about to call you.”
“Really? Why?”
“Your daughter sleeping yet?”
“I think so.”
“Good. I have great news, baby.”
“Well... don’t keep me waiting!”
“My doctor called and I’m clean.”
He could hear the smile in her voice. “That is great news.”
His smile faltered. “And, I hope you don’t think this is overstepping, but the club has a law firm on retainer.”
“That surprises me, even though I know it shouldn’t.”
“Right. Well, their family law lawyer called me this afternoon.”
“Family law?”
“I don’t like the idea of your ex-husband using me against you, so I’m looking into it.”
The way she exhaled, he thought she was disappointed.
“You’re upset about that?”
“No,” she cried immediately. “I’m mad at myself because I should have called my lawyer yesterday or today, and I didn’t.”
“For all you knew, babe, your ex was blowing smoke.”
“We’ll agree to disagree on that, but what did your legal advisor tell you?”
His lips tipped up at her goofiness. “Said quite a bit, but bottom line, sounds like he doesn’t have a leg to stand on for the time being. I haven’t even met your girl, and I don’t live with you. Until things get more serious, he’s full of shit. She also said he wasn’t likely to get a court date until after the new year, unless he’s well-connected or rich. He’s neither of those things, am I right?”
She chuckled. “He likes to think he’s well-connected, but no. Not like she means.”
“Good.”
If not for the ambient sound on the line, he’d have thought the call was dropped, because the silence went on for so long.
Finally she broke it, “Thank you, Brute. It means a lot that you would think to check into that for me. Hell, my lawyer would’ve probably emailed me a bill before we even hung up the phone.”
Fierce protectiveness raged inside him, and it was evident in his tone. “Then you need to find a different lawyer, Zee.”
“Send me the name of your woman, and I probably will.”
“You mean it, I’ll do that.”
“I wish you were here, because I’m dying to hug you right now.”
He cleared his throat. “I do, too, babe. But, it’s a school night. Gonna let you get some rest.”
Chapter Eighteen
Bounty
Kenzie
“Gram, did you get stressed out on Thanksgiving?” Aubrey asked my mother.
My lips pressed together and I closed my eyes. Much as I tried to hide it, I was stressed out because I had a turkey in the oven and four side dishes to time out and deal with limited real estate inside the oven. Normally this was no big deal, but being a glutton for punishment, I had decided Turkey Day would be a great time to introduce Brute to not only my daughter, but my mother, and for me to meet his father’s wife, Gina. According to Brute, when she heard about me she’d been ‘all up his ass’ to arrange an introduction.
Preparing dinner for six wasn’t a big deal, but Brute had just called and let me know Har and Stephanie were coming, too. Hence, my freak-out because I doubted I had enough dessert. Especially since I knew Brute liked his sweets as much as I did, and Stephanie struck me as a woman who could put back some pie.
Mom continued braiding Aubrey’s hair. “In a way, dear. Your grandpa liked to cook the turkey and there’s a reason for the saying, ‘too many cooks in the kitchen.’ But, you have to give your mommy a break. She’s having another family over, so she’s allowed to be a little stressed.”
“Mommy, are your friends bringing a dog?”
I paused, the container of fried onions held aloft over the green bean casserole. “No, honey, I don’t think so. Mr. Sam doesn’t have a dog and I’m pretty sure his father doesn’t either.”
“All set,” Mom declared, wrapping a hair-tie around the end of Aubrey’s braid. “Let’s help your mom and set the table.”
I evened out the scattering of onions over the casserole. Mom sidled up and leaned close to me, “It’s all going to be fine, Kenzie-bean. And you know that casserole can wait until the last second.”
My head swiveled to her and I gave her a look. “And you know that you taught me to never dawdle in the kitchen.”
She grinned. “Touché.”
“WHAT’S THAT NOISE?” Aubrey asked, looking up from her coloring book on the coffee table.
I glanced through the front window and saw Har and Stephanie riding up the driveway, each on their own Harley.
“Motorcycles, Mommy!” Aubrey scrambled up to look out the window, then her head whipped back to me, her eyes wide as saucers. “Mommy! There’s a girl riding a motorcycle. Can I go on it?”
“Oh dear,” I whispered to myself, because I could hear the excitement in her voice.
Brute’s truck pulled into the drive while they dismounted.
I gave her a closed lip smile. “Pumpkin, let’s meet everyone and be polite before we go inviting ourselves to a motorcycle ride.”
When she grinned at me, a stab of familiarity and concern hit me as I looked at my carbon copy. Her excitement about even the possibility of riding on a motorcycle had to mirror my looks at Brute over the past couple weeks.
Mom wandered up, wiping her hands on a paper towel. “Oh, my. You weren’t kidding. He is big.”
“Who’s big?” Aubrey asked.
I gave Mom a look. “Nobody, honey. Can you put your markers away, quick? Maybe Gramma will help.”
She narrowed her eyes at me. “Chicken.”
“No, I’m just nervous, and I haven’t said anything to your princess even though I should have.”
Mom put a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Stop borrowing trouble, Kenzie-bean.”
I exhaled. “Thank heavens you didn’t call me that in front of anyone else.”
Mom laughed so loud it was nearly a cackle. “Yes. That’s what we should be thankful for today.”
The doorbell rang and I glowered at her as she swept up the coloring books and Aubrey shoved markers into their boxes.
I opened the door to Har and Stephanie, feeling nervous, but hoping it wasn’t reflected in my smile. “Stephanie, Har, happy Thanksgiving! Please come in.”
Stephanie stepped inside, but before Har could follow her, we heard Brute bellow, “Yo! Har, need some help, man!”
My brows wrinkled. “How can he need any help?” I whispered.
Har smirked at me. “Never can tell with him, but if I had to guess it’s drink-related.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t bring some food. Brute called Har last minute, last night.”
I turned to her. “It’s all good. The only thing I might be short on is dessert.”
She chuckled. “Not a chance. Michael might think Brute needs help with drinks, but I know Sammy brought some form of dessert. No matter what you might have told him you had planned.”
Fifteen minutes later, I had introduced everyo
ne to Aubrey and Mom. My daughter was in hog heaven, and not just of the motorcycle variety. Turned out Gina had a Yorkshire Terrier who she’d brought along in her purse. Aubrey could not get enough of playing with Muffin, to save her life.
Mom, Stephanie, and Gina had come into the kitchen with me. With my home’s open floor plan, we could still hear everything happening in the front room and vice versa. I put the green beans into the microwave and turned to Gina. “Does your dessert need to be in the oven?”
She smiled. “No, honey. It’s ambrosia. Pop it in the fridge if we’re gonna be a while, otherwise, it’s no biggie.”
I nodded, admiring her anew. Her wide-set eyes resembled melted toffee, they were such a light brown. She had bone structure most women would die for, a perfect nose and angular cheek bones. Had Brute not told me her age the night before, I would have put her in her mid-forties. Yet I knew better, and reminded myself to ask later how she kept her skin so glowing.
The timer went off, and my back went straight. Mom chuckled, but I ignored her.
“How can I help? Do you need me to set out some trivets where you’re going to put the turkey?” Stephanie asked.
I nodded. “That’d be great. They’re in that drawer to your left.”
As she opened the drawer, Har yelled, “She doesn’t ‘get along’ with gravy, so I hope you got that shit covered.”
Stephanie glared at him. “Michael! There’s a little girl in the room.”
From the corner of my eye, I saw Har look abashed, but it was cut short when Brute laughed. “Yeah, Mike! Keep it ‘G,’ man.”
I had no sooner opened the oven door than Brute’s Dad sidled up to me. “Hand me those mitts; you are not taking that turkey out of the oven, Kenzie.”
His tone brooked no argument. I handed him the mitts and got out of his way.
Once he placed the roasting pan on the trivets, Mom caught his eyes. “Do you have a brother, by chance?”
Gina and Stephanie laughed, but I hung my head and closed my eyes. Then I felt warm, calloused fingers raise my chin and my eyes flew open. Sam grinned at me. “It’s all good, Kenzie.” He turned to my mom, who–if it were possible– had even more admiration in her eyes for him. “Sorry, Faith, but no brother.”
Mom sighed. “As my daughter says, ‘Bummer.’”
Twenty minutes later, we all gathered at the table. I tried to put Brute at the head of the table, but he and his father insisted my mother sit at the foot and me at the head. Brute was to my left, and Aubrey on my right with Gina next to her and Sam between her and Mom. Stephie sat next to Brute with Har on her left next to Mom.
Before I could tell everyone to dig in, Brute took my hand and Stephanie’s. “Grace. Dad, you want to do the honors?”
Sam’s eyes rounded at his son. “Junior, it occur to you maybe Kenzie or Mrs. Stoneman might want to say it?”
“Or maybe Aubrey does?” Gina put in.
My girl’s cheeks went pink and she shot a nervous look my way.
I squeezed her hand in mine. “By all means, Mr. Vaillant, you should say—”
He sent a good-natured glare my way. “It’s Sam, or I’ll start callin’ you ‘Ms. Stoneman.’ Let’s bow our heads.”
I dipped my head and closed my eyes.
“Lord, we thank you for the abundance in this house, not just of food, but of family and friends. We have much to be thankful for, and are grateful for the bounty you give us each and every day. May the food we’re about to receive give us strength and health. Amen.”
We all murmured our Amens and Aubrey looked over to Sam. “I thought Bounty was paper towels.”
Everyone chuckled, but my head tilted back. Brute hadn’t released my hand and he squeezed it. I looked back at him. He winked at me before focusing on my girl.
“You’re right, Miss Aubrey. But it also means having a lot of something. And I don’t know about you, but when I spill my milk, there sure is a whole lot of it to clean up, am I right?”
She giggled. “You’re right.”
I squeezed his hand in thanks and because of a sudden understanding. He’d suggested meeting Aubrey with his Dad and stepmom in tow since they would act as a buffer. I thought this was overkill, but seeing the ease of his interaction with Aubrey just then, I realized his instincts were far better than even he knew. I wanted to hold onto his hand a little longer to convey my gratitude, but I had to let go because food was being passed around and there was definitely a bounty at the table.
Brute
HE SENSED HER RELUCTANCE to let go of his hand. Yet she had to know that would be playing with fire. Aubrey had been eyeing their locked hands, but Stephanie passing the platter of turkey to him saved them.
It had been over two weeks since the confrontation with Strickland, and he hadn’t seen the man at all. They’d left Block and Mensa to watch Strickland’s mother’s house. Brute wasn’t taking Truman Strickland’s absence for granted, though. It was the beginning of the holidays, and he knew the man would come back.
Kenzie didn’t seem worried about the threat of Strickland. Or that of her ex-husband. She’d called Ms. Wentz, at the club’s law firm, for a lengthy conversation. Kenzie liked her demeanor and thoughts about the situation so much she’d tried to hire the woman. He’d been there when she found out the club would be footing the bill for any future litigation, and she’d flipped her lid.
Just thinking about that evening last week had his cock stiffening, because it had led to excellent angry sex against the wall in the hallway.
“Mr. Brute, do you need to go to the bathroom?” Aubrey asked.
He shook his head. “No, why do you ask?”
Her head tilted marginally, just like Kenzie’s did when she debated whether to say things to him. “Because you’re squirming like Corbin does when he has to go potty. Mrs. Winnett always watches him close.”
He shook with silent laughter. “I’ll be all right, darlin’. But thanks for lookin’ out for me.”
Dad asked, “Who’s Corbin?”
Aubrey looked across Gina to him. “He’s a boy in my class. His dad likes to stand close to Mommy when we’re at Scouts.”
His eyes slid to Kenzie, who had hung her head. A delicate shade of pink had crept up her neck to her cheeks. He bit his lip to keep from asking if that was the bastard who’d spoken so loudly when he first called her. That would be a giveaway to Aubrey that there was something more between him and her mom.
From the kitchen, a cell phone rang, and Kenzie’s expression hardened.
“Why’s Daddy calling?” Aubrey asked.
Kenzie shrugged and glanced around the table. “Excuse me, I have to grab that.”
He heard her offering her ex-husband a cordial holiday greeting, but when her body went ram-rod straight he knew shit was about to hit the fan.
Her mother had her eyes glued to Kenzie. Dad caught his eye and raised a brow in question.
He heard her say, “Then you can see the Mississippi plates, and know it isn’t my mother’s.”
Har leaned forward. “Want me to call the—”
“Yeah,” he said, to keep Kenzie’s mother and Aubrey from knowing anything about lawyers.
Kenzie stalked through the kitchen, moving to the front door, and he noticed she wasn’t wearing shoes.
He stood.
Gina looked to his dad and a thoughtful look crossed her face. “Aubrey, Muffin needs frequent bathroom breaks, and I know we just took her out, but you think we should let her visit your backyard one more time?”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Faith said, before Aubrey could answer.
He mouthed ‘thank you’ to Gina, she did an eyebrow arch to rival his father’s, and bustled toward Muffin.
Kenzie had her hand on the doorknob when he wrapped an arm around her waist from behind.
“Calm,” he whispered as low as he could, so the ex wouldn’t hear him.
The back door squeaked as Gina, Faith, and Aubrey took Muffin out the back door.
Then he heard the ex from the front walk. “I have the right to know who is in my daughter’s life.”
Kenzie opened the door. “That’s where you’re wrong, Caleb.”
Standing at the foot of the stoop, the man’s beady brown eyes widened. “How the hell do you figure that?”
For such a lithe woman, she had impressive strength and she broke free of Brute’s hold. Before he knew it, she stood face-to-face with the man.
“Have you met every child she goes to school with? Hell, you probably can’t remember her teacher’s name. And I know you haven’t spoke to the—”
Brute clenched his teeth to keep from interfering when the ex inched closer to Kenzie. “Come off it, Kenz. The children in her class are not a threat—”
She folded her arms on her chest. “Well, the friends I invite to my Thanksgiving table aren’t a threat to her, or any sort of change to her living arrangements, Caleb. This is my time with her, and you shouldn’t be here.”
Caleb’s eyes shifted to Brute for a fleeting moment, then back to Kenzie. “I have the right to know when you introduce her to your new boyfriend.”
“Actually, you don’t,” Har’s voice cut in.
Brute glanced to his side. His best friend had his phone at his ear.
“Who are you?” Caleb asked, with a sneer.
The gleam in Har’s eye told Brute he was holding back the attitude. “I’m her friend’s fiancé. But that doesn’t matter. Kenzie, your lawyer wants to speak to you.”
She turned curious eyes to Har, but Caleb sneered again. “How would you know the number for Kenzie’s lawyer?”
Realizing they shouldn’t tip their hand at upgrading her lawyer, Brute said, “Her mother gave the number to him as Kenzie went to the door. We could tell she was riled up. You need to back off, Whitehall.”
Her blue eyes turned to him, and he wasn’t so sure he liked what he saw. Trepidation had encroached on the curiosity, and if he didn’t know better, he thought there might even be fear there.
She took the phone from Har. “Ms. Wentz?”
Her head tilted a fraction as she listened. “I understand. Yes, ma’am. I’ll do that.”
