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Authors: Kristen Ashley

Games of the Heart (33 page)

BOOK: Games of the Heart
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Rhonda fed them and, as a matter of course, took care of the house. But other than that, she was checked out and I got the impression she took the opportunity of my being there to check out further.

And with all that, I’d just hit what I’d been looking forward to as the highlight of my week. Mike told me the kids went from school on alternate Fridays to their Mom’s and didn’t return until Sunday at seven. He had the weekend off.

This meant Mike time.

And Mike had decreed we were going out on a date. This meant he picked me up at the farmhouse at five thirty, we had dinner out, we then had drinks at J&J’s. Then he took me to his house where, after a tour of it he didn’t need to give me that ended with his huge bedroom, I threw down the challenge, jumped him and we commenced wrestling.

Definitely the highlight of my day including having the time with just Mike to check out his house, something I hadn’t had the time to do with any concentration.

Outside, it didn’t look as big as it was. Inside, it was very spacious. Although he was right, the development was cookie-cutter, that didn’t mean it didn’t have personality. I knew from my visits home it had been around a while and thus people had the time to personalize their space, trees had grown taller, filled out. The complex had settled and it wasn’t there yet but it was becoming less of a development, more of a neighborhood. But inside, it was more. Mike was a bachelor who had restarted his life with two kids and he did it like he did everything. Thoughtfully.

His house wasn’t a pad. There were framed pictures of family around. The kids. Grandparents. Mike’s aunts, uncles and cousins. The furniture was comfortable and attractive. There were touches that were admittedly masculine, like prints on the wall and his crockery but they were there. There was a vast selection of DVDs and the kids’ rooms were full of stuff. All this made it not at all just a roof over their heads but a home.

I liked this. I liked that Mike was capable of providing it. I liked that Mike gave it to his kids. And, deep down amidst the hope that was budding in me, I liked the idea that this was part of my future.

I’d never lived in a cookie cutter development. After my angst in high school, I’d spent so much time reflecting on what I would do when I was free, when I was I didn’t dilly-dally doing it. I lived in a couple of places but found a home quickly. Then set about with no small amount of determination making my place in the world where I wanted to be. I found success, settled in and loved it.

But, as crazy as it sounded, I could see me in that huge bed in that huge room in that cookie-cutter development with Mike, his kids and his dog.

Definitely.

“I bought this house because of you.”

I blinked at Mike’s chest and lifted my head to look down at him.

His eyes tipped to me.

“What?” I whispered.

“Didn’t get it until just now, you in my tee, in my bed, my hand on your ass. Never thought that would happen. Never expected it to. Never actually thought I’d see you again, which, I have to admit, honey, all these years, I found upsetting. But I looked at a fuckload of houses when I was trying to find a place for me, No and Reesee that would feel like home. I didn’t like this one. I did like the view of your farm off my balcony. That made this one, unlike any of the others, feel more like home. And the reason it did was because seein’ that farm reminded me of you and that felt like home.”

I didn’t know what to do with that, not hearing it, not him being open enough to tell me.

Except to love every word.

“Mike –” I whispered but got no further.

Mike kept talking. “The kids settled in fast. They never complained. What they had with me was better than what their Mom gave them but I knew it wasn’t that. They were lookin’ out for their Dad. They didn’t want to say shit or do shit that would make me feel shit. But still, the house we had was a home. This didn’t feel that way to me and I figure it didn’t feel that way to them. Not until last Saturday with music, kids, decorations, plastic bowls of food and a huge-ass, homemade cake. Reesee smilin’ and happy. No entertainin’ his crew. It finally felt like home.”

God, sometimes he just killed me. But when he did it, he did it in a way I liked.

“Shut up,” I whispered.

Mike stared at me, his eyes warm and gentle and that killed me too, in a way I liked.

Then he shut up, at least about that.

“I owe you for the party shit you bought. You need to give me the receipts.”

“Shut up,” I said louder and his hand curled firm on my ass again.

“Dusty. You need to give me the receipts.”

“Is this macho, I can talk until I’m blue in the face telling you it was my pleasure to give that to Rees so I want to pay for it and you still won’t agree Mike?”

He grinned, his hand relaxed and he answered, “Exactly.”

“Whatever,” I muttered. “I’ll give you the receipts.”

“Thanks, honey,” he muttered back then continued. “By the way, you didn’t bring a bag but you’re spendin’ the night.”

I
so
was.

Still, I felt compelled to point out, “Seriously, you’re bossy.”

He didn’t reply, just kept grinning.

“Were you this bossy with Debbie?” I asked.

“Sweetheart, you know no one can be bossy with Debbie because she’s so fuckin’ bossy. It was unrelenting. I could try to boss, I just couldn’t wedge one in.”

“So I have hope,” I muttered. “I just have to do it unrelenting.”

“Just a reminder, Dusty, Debbie lasted a while because I was a teenager with a small pond to choose from and she gave it to me regularly. When my field opened, Debbie was
gone.

I burst out laughing, shoving my face in his neck and feeling his hold tighten on me.

I loved this. I loved the comfort of it. That we could talk about stuff openly. That stuff that could feel weird or come between others didn’t between us. We got it. It was history.

This was now.

This was us.

We could talk about anything.

I lifted my head and looked at him to see him smiling at me.

Yes, this was us.

“The boys are clearing snow,” I announced.

Mike blinked.

“Pardon?”

“Darrin had contracts –”

I knew he knew exactly what I was talking about when he cut me off.

“You’re shittin’ me. They’re doin’ that?”

I nodded. “Both Fin and Kirby.”

Mike’s focus went out and I knew he was harking back, counting snowfalls when he muttered, “Three times.”

“Yep,” I confirmed and his focus came back on me.

“Rhonda allowed it?”

I nodded.

He murmured, “Fuck.”

“So, as a Dad, you think that’s wrong?”

“Uh…yeah. Kirby doesn’t even have his driver’s license. I knew Fin helped Darrin out and knowing Darrin, he wouldn’t have allowed that unless it was covered in the contracts or Fin was protected by Darrin’s insurance. So I don’t know what the contracts say but I doubt whatever insurance is provided includes the work being done by a non-licensed minor like Kirby. If he got hurt…” Mike trailed off.

“I didn’t like it either,” I agreed. “But I didn’t say anything when Rhonda told me because she’s their Mom and I didn’t know how she and Darrin played stuff like that with the boys.”

“If I’m right, he covers three developments. If Kirb could be on a tractor with a blade, Darrin would have had Kirb’s ass on a tractor with a blade. Did Fin recruit him?”

I nodded.

“Takin’ care of his family,” Mike muttered correctly.

“Yep,” I repeated.

“Fuck,” Mike repeated.

“Yep,” I repeated again. Then I took in a deep breath and shared, “Rhonda’s checked out.”

Mike’s arms got tight and his eyes looked deep into mine when he whispered, “I’m gettin’ that.”

I pressed deeper into him and whispered back, “Totally, Mike.”

He held my eyes then replied, “She’s gotta snap out of it, Dusty.”

“You know Rhonda,” I reminded him.

“I do. But shit happens and you gotta step up. We got the Debbie situation under control but both you and I know she’s in DC plotting. She’ll make her next move and she’ll do it soon.”

He was not wrong about that.

I did a face plant in his neck.

Mike’s hands gave me a squeeze. “Angel, look at me.”

I lifted my head.

“It’s time to talk to your Dad,” he said softly and my heart squeezed.

“He’s worked hard all his life, Mike. So has Mom. They love it down in Florida. He fishes. Mom spends hours in the kitchen making food out of gourmet food magazines she never had the time to make when she was a farmer’s wife. Dad spends time pretending he likes to eat it when really he just wants a fried tenderloin sandwich. They’re enjoying the good life.”

“Explain again why Darrin left the farm to all four of you,” Mike demanded to know something I’d told him the night we reconciled. Something he muttered then that he thought was “jacked” and something he clearly thought was still jacked now. Then again, Darrin loved Debbie. Mike didn’t.

“Because he loved his sisters,” I told him. “He knew Debbie but he always saw the good in people, even Debbie. And he knew Rhonda. So, if anyone would have Finley and Kirby’s backs with the farm, keeping it whole and safe for them to take over, he knew he couldn’t trust Rhonda to do it. But he could trust Debbie and me. Or he thought he could. He was wrong.”

“Your Dad would lose his mind if he thought Debbie was pushing to sell the farm to developers,” Mike noted, again correctly.

“Yes,” I agreed unnecessarily.

“So you need his firepower at your back.”

I sighed.

Mike kept talking. “Right, honey, as you know, I’m a Dad and that’s a lifetime job. He knows that too. I get that you want to sort this shit and let them have their retirement. But life happens. They get that. Their son died unexpectedly and they are not down in Florida living the high life. They’re down there worried about Rhonda checkin’ out and those boys bein’ looked after. If they knew about Debbie, they’d lose it, at least your Dad would. He’d want to know. And I know he doesn’t know because if he did, his ass would be up here or he’d be on the phone to DC tellin’ his girl to stand down. You need to call in reinforcements, at least with Debbie.”

He was right so I sighed again then nodded.

Then I asked, “What about Rhonda? I told you I talked to her twice and she drifted away. I think she’s replacing Darrin with me. And Fin, well, he loves his Mom, I know it. And I also know he’s relieved to have me around, you demonstrating you’re going to wade in with Debbie. But he’s losing it with her, Mike. He’s not being ugly but I know he’s worried, feeling pressure and getting impatient with her because of it. I don’t know if she’s paying bills, if she knows how to handle the accounts, what their money situation is. But the corn has to go in and it doesn’t just plant itself. Fin knows all this too.”

“Her folks?” Mike suggested.

“There’s a reason Rhonda is the way she is, honey,” I said softly. “Her Dad isn’t a bad man, or at least not totally. But Darrin told me he was a perfectionist, impatient. He came down on Rhonda hard when she was a kid. Darrin thought she was naturally shy, a little flighty, definitely sensitive but that gig with her Dad dug all this in deep. Her Mom is a hoverer and enabler. Mom told me while they were around after Darrin died, Rhonda’s Dad was impatient with her, her Mom was running in to do everything so Rhonda wouldn’t have to do it. I don’t think they’ll help.”

“She got any close girlfriends?”

 
I shook my head. “You know she’s shy. In fact, I still find it a miracle Darrin got in there. She has a friend. They’ve been besties since high school. But she moved to Missouri at least a decade ago.”

Mike stared up at me then his face changed in a way that made me brace right before he rolled me to my back with him on me.

His hand sliding up my body, it ended curled around my jaw as his face got close.

I would understand the intensity in his dark brown eyes and the change in circumstances when he asked, “How long you plannin’ to stay, darlin’?”

My body melted under his, I circled him with my arms and answered, “I planned to stay at least until the crop was in and I had a sense it was good.”

“June, July,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” I muttered back.

He smiled. Big.

“June, July,” he repeated.

I smiled back. Big.

“Yeah.”

We kept smiling at each other like lovestruck idiots, we did this for a while and I loved every second of it.

Then, unfortunately, Mike ended it but, fortunately, he ended it with a plan.

“Right, you got time. No doubt about it, Fin’s up. It’s a year or two earlier than any kid should have to shoulder that responsibility but you know what you’re doin’ and you got your Dad on the line if you need him. Give him his head, take his back. This is about the farm, not the snow removal. With that, I’ll make a few calls, see who I can get to work with Fin if it snows again before spring comes. Yeah?”

BOOK: Games of the Heart
13.9Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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