Called Up (3 page)

Chapter Four

The rest of Deke’s day didn’t go according to plan. Of course, since his plan had been to head up to Ames, drink a
lot
, and then find a woman to hook up with, maybe that wasn’t the worst thing. Because as much as he needed it, he wasn’t sure he wanted it. But, man, he hadn’t had sex in a long time. Too long. And tonight was supposed to be the night he’d get his mojo back. Dirty, anonymous, blow-your-head-off mojo.

Instead he was doing carpool.

He’d packed up all the equipment, turned the field over to the eight-to-ten bracket, and then given in to Si and Matty’s pleas to go out for pizza.

This also meant having dinner with Peggy, et al, although, thankfully, also with most of the dads joining them. Being on his own with the women didn’t generally bother him, but for some reason it was the last thing he wanted today. And amidst the general grumbling about crazy schedules, honey-do lists, and, yes, the expected comments about Deke’s carefree, no-strings-attached life that he shrugged off with a smile, there was a sense of contentment among the couples that he’d never noticed before.

An odd, itchy feeling settled deeply into his chest. It made him kind of antsy, in fact. By the time he pulled into Lola’s driveway, he just wanted to go home. Or, hell, since Ames wasn’t happening tonight, maybe he’d go back and find Peggy after all. She’d made it overwhelmingly clear she was interested. Plus, when she wasn’t being prissy about her makeup being ruined, she was a hell of a time in bed.

But right now he was definitely in a pissy mood. Foul enough to slam the door of his truck hard and see Lola’s flinch as he rounded the back of it.

“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching out for the boys’ backpacks when Deke got to the front door. She moved to let him in. “It’s your night off. I just...” She tilted her head toward the kitchen island, where Jules sat, shoulders hunched and eyes closed.

Oh, Jesus.

Deke scrubbed his hand over his face. He was an ass.

Here was his widowed, mom-of-four sister, doing what she could to take care of her oldest friend, and here he was, pretty much without a care in the world, in a shitty mood because of an annoying case of heartburn.

He put his arm around Lola’s shoulder and kissed the top of her head. “I’m yours for the night, Lo. Whatever you need. Margaritas, beer run... Hell, I can even whip up some cake batter if you want.” Lola and Jules’s wallowing drug of choice.

Lola’s arms went around his waist and she hugged him hard. “Oh, we’re well past cake batter time,” she said. “But I think we can take it from he—”

Her words were cut off by a shriek, followed by a roared, “James... Thomas...
McIntire
!”

A naked, dripping wet three-year-old tore down the second floor hallway. He had a head full of shampoo, his eyes were scrunched shut, and he was wailing like a banshee, a phrase Deke had never fully understood until this particular moment. Three steps behind him was an equally wet, shampoo-wearing Fitz, who was clutching the other two naked triplets, one to each side, as she tore down the hall after James.

With a sigh, Lola closed the front door. “He hates to get his hair washed.”

Although Deke spent a fair amount of time with his nephews, he had to admit, whenever he was presented with the opportunity, he made a beeline for Silas and let someone else handle the triplets. “Apparently.”

Leaning back against the door, Lola mumbled, “I don’t suppose you could...” This time the trailing off of her voice was masterfully coordinated with that pleading look in her eyes. The look she gave him whenever she knew she was asking him to do something he didn’t
want to do.

Goddamn it.

“You did say anything,” she added.

Not technically true. What he’d said was, whatever she needed. He was pretty sure she did not
need
him to take care of the triplets, as Fitz no doubt had it all well enough in hand, banshees notwithstanding. But Lola clearly had no intention of letting him off the hook. So with a muttered, “Hell,” Deke turned his baseball cap backward on his head and climbed the stairs. He followed the trail of water down the hallway, through Lola’s bedroom, right into the master bath where Fitz was wringing the hem of her shirt.

“Geez, Fitz.” He was about to make some snarky comment about her letting the boys run roughshod over her, except when he looked down to see her white shirt was now entirely see-through, all he could see was the girls.

“Really?” she snapped when she looked up and saw him standing there, his eyes where they absolutely shouldn’t be. “You’ve judged about eighteen thousand wet T-shirt contests. You can’t honestly tell me this isn’t anything you haven’t seen.”

Well, no. That didn’t make it better, though.

“Sit your ass down and help me.” She pointed to the spot next to her as she sank to her knees by the tub where the three boys were now playing happily. “I can’t believe Lola does this every night.”

Given the amount of dirt covering all four of Lola’s boys on a regular basis, Deke was pretty sure that wasn’t true. In fact, he could have sworn he’d seen Lola just hosing them down one night before putting them to bed.

But reassuring Fitz was a physical impossibility at the moment. She’d just straightened up and it was clear the white bra she was wearing didn’t hold up to the water any better than her T-shirt had. He cleared his throat and stared hard at the wall behind her. Nudging her to the side, he took the shampoo she was handing him, while very specifically not looking down. “I can finish up here. Why don’t you, uh...”

Damn it to hell, his eyes went straight to Fitz’s chest again, completely of their own accord. And because it was Fitz, she was well aware of the transgression and totally pissed off. Hell, Deke was ready to knock his own head into the wall, much less wait around for Nate to do it.

Or Fitz, given that her eyes had gone narrow and her face got all pinched up. Unfortunately, it was accompanied by her folding her arms across her chest in a way that emphasized precisely the thing she was pissed at him about.

Why did women
do
that?

“Look,” he said, trying to wrestle the situation into control. “I have no clue, okay? It’s like a short circuit somewhere.” He turned his cap back around so it was covering his eyes and leaned forward enough so he couldn’t quite see her. Waving his hand out vaguely behind him, he managed to finish his thought, even though it was beyond pathetically done. “Just, um, go get some dry clothes on. Give a guy a break.”

“I would be happy to ‘give a guy a break,’” she muttered. She elbowed him in the gut so he’d move over, leaving no doubt in his mind what kind of break she was talking about. “But you can’t even be in the same room with all three of them at once without having a panic attack. Do you honestly think I’m leaving you alone with them in a tub full of water? You can’t be serious.”

Leave it to Fitz to notice that. He was pretty sure even Lola had no clue the triplets scared the crap out of him.

Fine. He gave the shampoo back to Fitz and then lathered up the first one’s hair.

“Uncle Deke is
not
serious,” one of them said.

Luke? Maybe that one was Emmet. Deke wasn’t entirely sure.

“Uncle Deke is a goofball,” another answered. Except in the cute, high-pitched voice they all had going on, it came out sounding more like “poof ball.”

“Gee, thanks, Dude,” Deke muttered. Christ.

With a smile so sweet it made even Deke want to lay at the kid’s feet, the third one looked at Fitz all dreamy-like and said, “Auntie Fitz is
very
serious. I love Auntie Fitz
so
much.”

Deke was pretty sure that one was James, because his hair was a mass of dried up shampoo bubbles. Deke was also pretty impressed, because Fitz, who had been ready to kick some three-year-old butt no more than five minutes before, had completely fallen for it. All was forgiven it seemed, as she put her hands on either side of the kid’s face and bent down to kiss his forehead.

“And I love James
so
much,” she said.

James. Nailed it.

Clearly feeling left out, one of the other two grabbed Fitz’s arm, splashing the already sopping T-shirt even more. “I love Auntie Fitz, too,” he said. Then, pulling her away from James—and right into Deke, something he was doing everything possible to ignore—the kid plopped down cross-legged into the water. “I also love my penis.” Then he moved his hips back and forth. “Look! It jiggles!”

It didn’t surprise him at all that Fitz then sweetly said, “Uncle Deke loves his penis, too.
So
much.”

Deke snorted. And he felt the laugh ripple through Fitz as she fought to contain it; a giggle so soft he only heard it because he’d turned his head to say...

Nothing. The words died in his throat when his eyes met hers and she looked so...
happy
. He wasn’t sure he’d ever seen her eyes sparkle quite like that. That itchy feeling in his chest changed into something entirely different, and he had a sudden urge to lean in. To cup the back of her head and bend down and kiss her.

And, god
damn
, he almost did it. Almost lost every iota of sense he had in his head.

He was saved by a tiny three-year-old voice piping up, asking, “Do you love Auntie Fitz, too?” Followed by a gentle tugging of Deke’s hat. “Do you love her penis?”

It took Deke a moment to register the question, a moment during which one of the boys managed to get hold of the shower head and begin spraying with abandon. It was enough to bring Deke back to his senses. He pulled away from Fitz, grabbed the hose and regained control. “Time to rinse you guys off and get you into bed.”

And forget any of this insanity had ever happened.

Chapter Five

Fitz sat back on her heels, watching as Deke suddenly became Mr. Mom, rinsing off the boys with the utmost efficiency and speed.

Had he almost just
kissed
her?

Her hand came up to her lips. Granted, she didn’t have much experience. There hadn’t been a lot of boys around while she was growing up. Coming to Inspiration should have opened up some doors, but the whole Peggy thing had been humiliating enough that she’d never even looked at another boy for the rest of high school. And the downside of hanging out primarily with Nate and Co. during college meant spending far too much time in frat houses playing beer pong. Being damn good at beer pong she’d enjoyed herself immensely. She just hadn’t considered it a sufficient form of seduction and therefore ended up alone in her room at the end of the evening more often than not.

So, no. Kissing wasn’t exactly her area of expertise. It was possible she’d read the situation entirely wrong.

“For fuck’s sake, Fitz,” Deke muttered, pulling her out of her head. “A little help?”

She suppressed a nervous giggle as he turned to her, his baseball cap half-forward, half-back, thanks to his attempts to bring the boys under control. Of course now it was hard not to notice his soaking navy-blue T-shirt clinging to his pecs and shoulders...

So okay. Maybe she could forgive him for the wet T-shirt thing. She got it.

“Fitz.”

Right. “Sorry.” She turned her head away and reached for James. It was time for this bath to be over.

“So, uh, what next?” Deke asked when they’d gotten the three boys out of the tub and wrapped in their towels.

She looked up as he took his cap off and ran his hand through his now thoroughly wet hair. Her mouth went a little dry.

What was her
problem
? Two weeks ago he’d made her judge a burping contest in which extra points were given for substance and tone. Just the other day they’d had an argument over whether it was time to finally burn the tennis shoes in his gym bag. Which, by the way, it was.

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 enough, 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.