Had to Be You: Bad Boys of Red Hook (20 page)

Bree looked from her to Patrice. “I think that’s a bunch of bunk. Frankly, I couldn’t care less if you’re rich as Roosevelt—”

“But you were weirded out with Storm and Thomas’s friendship because the man owns a ten-million-dollar boat.” Bree was so busted.

“So I had a few moments—mostly because I knew what kind of women Storm dated—women who were rich and beautiful—”

“Like me?”

“No, not like you. You’d never be the yacht-club, mean-girls type, no matter how much money you have.”

“That’s true enough. I never fit in and believe me, I went to school with women who were the very ones you feared.”

“I know not everyone in your tax bracket is like that, but I imagined the ones he knew were. How does someone like me compete with that? It was a natural fear. But I got over it and you know I did, so you can’t use that as an excuse.”

“I was afraid and I saw no reason to complicate things. I’ve been happier here, living on what I make, being my own person, than I have ever been before. I love you guys.”

“And we love you.” Bree and Patrice said in stereo.

“I don’t want to lose that. I don’t want to stop shopping at thrift stores or going out and scoring deals at Macy’s just because I can afford to pay full price.”

Patrice nodded. “I totally get that—shopping is a sport.”

“Exactly. Besides, I don’t think of the family money as something that’s mine. That’s not how Jackson and I were raised. The family trust is a responsibility. Kind of like a family heirloom—you have to protect it, take care of it, and make it grow until you can hand it down to the next generation.”

“So you can’t spend any of it?”

“I could if I wanted to. I can’t tell you how many of the girls I went to school with blew their fortunes. I just think that’s really tacky and stupid.”

“Totally.” Bree nodded.

“Me, I stopped drawing from my trust fund after I got this gig. I wanted to prove I was able to make it on my own. I wanted to prove I’m more than just the balance of my trust fund.”

Patrice went to the coffee station and brought a pot back, refilling their cups and taking one for herself. “So what do you do with all the money?”

“Jax and I have a foundation—the Sullivan Trust. We give a certain amount each year to worthy causes. I have my favorites—I like to give money to schools and rec centers in support of the arts, especially around here. I want to make sure the music programs aren’t cut so I gift money earmarked to buy instruments, pay music teachers’ salaries, and support after-school music programs. But other than that, I don’t have much to do with it—”

Bree sucked in a breath. “The Sullivan Trust? You gave a grant to the Red Hook Revitalization Committee?”

Rocki shrugged. “I thought it was a great cause.”

“I didn’t know. Thank you.”

“You weren’t supposed to know. See”—she shook her head and threw her hands up—“now it’s getting weird.”

Bree let out an oh-please groan. “Dramatic much? It is not weird at all. I thanked you when you volunteered your time to help clean up the park and that wasn’t weird.”

“I don’t have much to do with the trust or our investments. Jax is the numbers guy in the family and he deals with all that and sends me updates.”

Patrice looked at her and then looked down. “So the reason you didn’t tell us wasn’t because you thought we’d turn into a bunch of moochers, was it?”

“No.”

Patrice relaxed and then smiled. “Good. Now let’s get to the juicy part. What’s going on between you and Slater?”

“I don’t know. He’s wonderful but he’s going through a lot of stuff and I was too. It wasn’t a great time for either of us to get involved. We’re just taking it a day at a time and we’ll see how things shake out.”

Patrice sat back. “Well, he’s a hottie—he certainly doesn’t look like he did when we were in school together. He was skinny and geeky and, well, now he could be on the cover of
Playgirl
.” She stared at Rocki. “I’m right about that, aren’t I? I mean I’ve only seen him with clothes on.”

“Patrice!” Bree tried for indignation but missed the mark by a mile.

Patrice gave a halfhearted shrug. “You can’t blame a girl for tryin’.”

“All I will say is that nothing about the man is a disappointment.”

“What, no pictures?” Patrice pouted, her lower lip sticking out just like Callie’s did right before she threw a temper tantrum.

“It’s not gonna work.”

“At least Skye gave us the goods on Logan.”

“Yeah, but we had to get her drunk first. Then we were on Logan’s shit list for a week. I’m not going to repeat that mistake. No way. I have a feeling Logan is a whole lot more understanding than Slater would be.”

“So he’s the shy type?” Patrice’s brows drew up.

“No, just private. Besides, I don’t ask questions about Francis.”

Bree shivered. “Francis is like a brother to me. The last thing I want to know is what he’s like in bed.”

Rocki laughed. “Slater’s your brother-in-law but that’s all right?”

Bree thought about it. “It shouldn’t be, but strangely, it is. None of Pete’s kids have ever been remotely siblinglike to me.”

Rocki couldn’t help but laugh. “I’m sure Storm would appreciate it if that changed.”

“If what changed?” A deep voice had the three of them turning their heads. Storm. Too bad he missed the inquisition. Rocki wondered if the men talked about them the way they talked about the men. God, she hoped not.

Bree blushed furiously and that sent her and Patrice into a fit of giggles.

Jackson just watched with one eyebrow raised. “Maybe we shouldn’t ask.”

Rocki nodded. Jax was always the smart one.

Slater snuck down the back stairs and heard Rocki doing her version of “Santa Baby
.
”
Her singing that song never failed to give him a hard-on—add to that the Naughty Elf costume she wore and he was toast. He stood in the hallway and watched her shimmy her way through the chorus. As if she felt his eyes on her, she looked over her shoulder and smiled when she saw him.

No matter when he came down, somehow she always knew he was there—as if she had some weird kind of radar.

He slid into their booth, waved to Wendy for a beer, and did his best to make Rocki forget the words. Damn, just one
I-can’t-wait-to-kiss-you
smile added a little huskiness to her voice.

They’d been home a little more than a week and had fallen into an easy routine. Neither had done Christmas shopping so they went while Nicki was at school. Sometimes he and Rocki picked Nicki up from school together, sometimes he’d go alone, but he always went. Nicki would skip beside him and tell him all about her day. He’d thought he’d get tired of listening to her chatter, but he hadn’t—the little squirt was a trip. One part innocence, one part streetwise, one part snark, and one part sweet.

Rocki usually joined them for an afternoon snack before he dragged Nicki upstairs to do homework, then, time and weather permitting, they’d take Nicki and D.O.G. to the dog park for a good run. He didn’t know who got more exercise, Nicki or the dog. Just watching them tired him out.

Most nights dinner was a family affair; then Rocki would head to the bar and he’d go down after Nicki was tucked into bed.

Jackson fit right in with the clan—he was pretty good at doing his own thing even though he was never far from his phone or computer. But then the same could be said for him. The two of them had no problem hanging out, working on their own projects while Rocki played piano.

Rocki signed off, grabbed her water glass, straightened her little elf’s cap, and headed to the bar for a refill. Bree slid into the booth. “You’re not helping business, Slater.”

“What? I always pay for my drinks.”

“Yeah, but you’re scaring off all the single men.”

“Just the ones who bother Rocki.” She was going to be the death of him. She had every man fantasizing about her shimmying on his lap. He should know. That was exactly where his mind went.

“Looking at Rocki and watching her perform is not bothering her. She doesn’t need a bodyguard. She worked here for three years and the only man she ever went home with was you, and that’s only because you practically forced her.”

“I persuaded.”

“Still, I’d appreciate it if you’d stop growling at the customers.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You heard me. If someone even looks cross-eyed at Rocki, you get all puffed up. It’s pretty cute actually. I used to think Storm was possessive, but you take it to a whole new level.”

“I’m not possessive, just protective. There’s a difference.”

Bree raised an eyebrow. “The two of you are playing house and you’re practically connected at the hip.” She lowered her already deep voice and leaned in. “Are you still planning to take off for Bahrain after Christmas?”

“What are you, her mother? It’s not bad enough I have to deal with her brother and Pop, I have to answer to you too?”

“I’m her best friend.”

He didn’t like it, but shit, he didn’t want to get on Bree’s bad side—the woman was scary. “I’m trying to renegotiate the deal with OPEC and I have to see what happens—”

“With the paternity test?”

“God, are there no secrets here?”

“What do you think? Nicki means a lot to every one of us. And believe me, I know you care about her. How can you help but love the little scamp?”

“I just want what’s best for Nicki, regardless of what happens with the paternity test.”

“If you’re her father, you’ll be what’s best for her. If not, we’ll jump off that bridge when we come to it.”

“How do you know, Bree? God, I look at Nicki, and no matter how much I want it, the whole idea of parenthood scares the living crap out of me. It’s like I have some unnatural aversion to it.”

“That’s natural—”

“No, Bree, it’s not.”

Maybe she heard the self-loathing tone in his voice, because when she looked up at him, her eyes went wide.

“I don’t want to feel like this. It’s not about the money I could lose. Look, I’d love to be rich, but hey, it hasn’t made Rocki very happy. I know I could earn a decent living. I’m not that shallow. But it’s as if every cell in my body is telling me to get away from Nicki for her own good. It’s not that I don’t care about her. I really do. God, I care about her so much it scares me.” He ran his hands through his hair and shook his head. “I’m not making any sense.”

“You’re making perfect sense; you’re scared. The only thing I don’t know is why.”

“I don’t understand it either and I felt it the second I laid eyes on Nicki. And before you say it’s about not being used to little kids, that’s not it. I never get that weird feeling with Francis and Patrice’s kids. Hell, I had Callie crawling all over me—I was fine.”

“Is it getting better?”

“Yeah, but it’s still there.”

“Have you talked to Rocki about it?”

He shrugged. “A little. But shit, I feel like a heel. Here’s this great little girl, and she might be my kid, and just looking at her scares me.”

“Maybe she reminds you of someone. What did your parents look like?”

A flash of the monster shot to the forefront of his mind and he squeezed his eyes shut. “I don’t know. I have no memories of them.”

She looked at him and then drew a line through the ring of condensation on the table with her finger. “I think you need to talk to Pete. He’s seen your file. Pete would know.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of. Maybe I’ll talk to him, but not tonight. Hell, it’s Christmas Eve.”

“But you’ll talk to him?”

Everything in him screamed no, but he didn’t know what else to do. “I’ll talk to Pop after Christmas.” He had a feeling it would be a total mind-fuck, at least for him, and he didn’t want to spoil his or anyone else’s Christmas.

“Talk to Pete about what?” Rocki slid into the booth and leaned in for a kiss.

Slater scooted over against the wall to give her more room. “Business.” He spent his nights and days wanting Rocki wrapped around him, except for now. Now, he really didn’t want to be touched. “Would you excuse me?”

Rocki got up to let him out of the booth and bit her lip. Shit.

He shot her what he hoped was a
be-right-back
smile and headed to the men’s room. He needed to get his head on straight. Damn, nothing but nothing made sense—he was really wondering if he was losing it.

•   •   •

Rocki threw herself back into the booth and grabbed Bree’s hand. “What was that about? What did you say to Slater?”

“Calm down. We were just talking about Nicki. I didn’t say anything—I just listened.”

Rocki tried to relax her muscles that tensed the second Slater had moved away from her. “But he’s doing great with Nicki. He adores her.”

“I know that, and you know that, but Slater . . . something’s bothering him and he’s not even sure what it is. Something has him really scared and it sounds to me like it might have to do with his past.”

“It has to be. He’s had nightmares. He screams ‘No’ and the next thing I know he’s on top of me shaking. Like he’s trying to protect me from a bomb or a bullet or something. It’s like something out of the movies.”

“He didn’t mention nightmares but then he probably wouldn’t have told you either if you hadn’t lived through them. I just told him he needs to talk to Pete. Slater might not know anything about his birth family or how he ended up in foster care, but Pete sure as hell does.”

Rocki wanted to hit her head against the back of the booth. She was a total washup as a girlfriend. Slater had never even told her what freaked him out so badly when he’d talked to Storm and she’d let him get away with it. She hadn’t wanted to push him. “How come he can talk to you but he can’t talk to me?”

“Because he’s not in love with me. I’m his sister-in-law; he doesn’t really care what I think of him.”

“Yes, he does. He cares about everyone here. Even Storm and Skye.”

Bree patted her hand. “Slater apologized to Skye and explained his leap to the wrong conclusion. Skye accepted his apology and she’s fine with it. As for Storm—I think you had more to do with Storm’s apology than I did, even though I told him he was dead wrong. He can be so stubborn. I think your threat held more water than a subtle nudge from his wife.”

Rocki felt herself smile. “Yeah, well, we do what we can.”

“It might be easier for Slater to talk to me because I’m not as close to the situation as you are. He’s obviously in love with you and he’s a man. Men are supposed to be big and bad and strong. They’re supposed to rescue their women, not the other way around. It’s stupid, but it’s in their DNA.”

“So he says. I swear, I need a copy of the
Dating for Dummies
handbook—actually the CliffsNotes would be good.”

“You’re always in such a rush. Some things take time, Rocki.”

“That’s the problem. I don’t know how much time Slater and I have left. I thought I was fine with just fooling around with him—I wasn’t prepared to fall for him. It’s never happened before and—”

“Hey, it’s not like he has his plane ticket and his bags packed.”

“Bree, Slater never bothered unpacking. Except for buying a queen-sized bed because the two of us didn’t get much sleep in my twin, he hasn’t made one move to make things permanent.”

“That you know of. Maybe he’s waiting until he knows what’s what. No need to get your hopes up if all his plans are dashed. He’s working on figuring things out. Just be patient.”

“Right. And what the hell am I supposed to do in the meantime?”

“Just love him, talk to him, and be supportive. That’s all we can ever do. If it’s meant to be, it will work out.”

“And if it’s not?”

“Then you’ll get over it.”

“Like you got over Storm?”

“Rocki, you’re the bravest person I know. Life is too precious to waste time the way I did. If the worst happens, you’ll do what you always do. You’ll pick yourself up, brush yourself off, and use what you learned in your next relationship.”

“Wow, that’s encouraging.”

“It’s a real possibility, but I don’t see that happening. Slater doesn’t want to leave you any more than you want to leave him. Just be patient, put a smile on your face, and move over. He’s on his way back.”

Bree got up and took her empty glass. “I’m going to head out. I guess I’ll see you two in the morning. Text us when Nicki gets you up.”

Rocki gave Bree a hug good-bye and slid into the other side of the booth. “Did you get Nicki’s bike all put together?”

Slater nodded. “I have it in Rex’s office. Once you’re done here we can put the presents around the tree.”

She’d really been looking forward to doing that, but now, not so much. “Do you still want me to stay with you on the pullout in Logan and Skye’s place?”

“Don’t you? My back isn’t looking forward to it; I’ve actually slept on that torture rack before. But I don’t want to miss Nicki’s first Christmas with us.”

“First Christmas?”
First
insinuated that they would have more than one. She sure hoped he was right.

Slater rested his forearms on the table and leaned toward her. “I love the costume, Rocki. I just don’t love the way other guys are looking at you, like they want to lay you under their tree and unwrap you. Couldn’t we keep some of these costumes to ourselves?”

“It’s a naughty-elf costume, but not that naughty. It’s Christmas Eve, Slater. Don’t be such a Grinch.”

•   •   •

Chaos—that’s the only way Slater could describe Christmas morning with the Crow’s Nest family. Everyone showed up to watch Nicki open her gifts so they ended up having to take the party down to the bar. There just wasn’t enough room in the apartment.

Their family had expanded exponentially and, damn, there were a lot of people and even more presents. He doubted Nicki had ever dreamed of hauling in such a bounty.

Of course, Nicki’s favorite present was the bike he bought her—a Schwinn Sprite—black with splashes of purple, pink, and orange, a basket, and even a horn. Very cool. Unfortunately, her size didn’t come with training wheels. He did have the forethought to buy her a helmet, wrist guards, elbow pads, and knee pads, thanks to Rocki. He even considered padded-butt biker pants but they didn’t come in her size and Rocki said no woman any age would ever wear something that expanded the size of her ass. Fashion always outranked pain. Rocki did insist on color-coordinating the ensemble though.

Nicki raced over to him, her neon Vans slapping against the hardwood floor. “Can we go now, Slater?”

She’d been asking for a trip to the park to learn how to ride since five o’clock that morning. She actually lasted longer than he’d expected. “Yeah, we can go. Ask Rocki if she wants to come with us.”

Nicki ran off to find Rocki. Five minutes later they appeared and Nicki looked like Nanook of the North.

Slater took one look at her and laughed. “Did Bree do that to you?”

He thought he caught a nod, but it was hard to tell. Nicki wore her new coat, hat, scarf, and gloves.

He got up and put his mouth close to where he hoped her ear was. “Don’t worry. We’ll unwrap you once we get in the car. I’ve already loaded your bike.” He’d bought a bike rack so they didn’t have to put down the backseat.

“Can we take D.O.G.?” Even her voice sounded muffled. “He wants to see me ride my bike.”

He gave Rocki a
what-do-you-think
look.

Rocki put her hands on Nicki’s highly padded shoulders and squeezed. The poor kid probably didn’t even feel it. “Sure, why not? He’s been cooped up all day. A run would do him good.”

Five minutes later they were on their way to Prospect Park. Nicki had one arm around D.O.G. and bounced in her seat. She was so hopped up on sugar, it was amazing the seat belt held her down.

Slater held Rocki’s hand in his the whole way there—a habit he’d had since their drive to New Hampshire—and parked in the biggest parking lot he could remember. It was on the east side of the lake and was thankfully deserted.