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Authors: Marie Harte

Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary

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BOOK: How to Handle a Heartbreaker
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“Oh?” Maddie crossed her arms. “Why? Is she not good enough for your idiot bestie?”

He flinched. “First of all, he’s not my ‘bestie.’ We aren’t girls braiding each other’s hair. Second, he’s not an idiot.” At their stares, he amended, “Well, not all the time. And third,
she’s
probably too good for
him
. He’s not a player. He’s honest with women, but Brody just isn’t ready to settle down yet. Not like me, Maddie.”

Maddie dragged him into her arms and plastered a kiss on his mouth.

“Suck-up,” Abby said with disgust.

He winked at her, and she turned to forage in the kitchen for some toast. A banana, maybe. Something to settle her queasy stomach.

Two hours later, after eating, showering, and cleaning up her room, she frowned at her bookcase.

“Maddie?” she called as her friend walked by.

“What?” Dressed for the day in jeans and a pretty but practical sweater, Maddie looked ready for a day of staging houses. Her new profession.

“Did you borrow one of my books?”

“Nope. I’m not that crazy. I refuse to pledge my firstborn to borrow from your personal library. You probably misplaced it.” Maddie walked past her and downstairs.

“Maybe.” Abby continued to look at the empty spot on her shelf, then finally trooped downstairs with her roommate and returned to work. The books certainly wouldn’t write themselves, and it seemed she had a new client to work with. McSons Plumbing. Brody and Flynn’s business needed help. Time to organize and get busy with scheduling through the holidays.

Yet the loss of her book irked her throughout the day.

***

“I refuse to continue with this farce! You said cards, chips, and dip! But this is ridiculous. I’m wearing my suit pants!”

Brody glared at the youngest McCauley brother, recently returned from a trip out East, and cinched down the bolts of his new water heater. “Cam, just hold the freaking tank. I’m almost done.”

“You should have gotten a freestanding tank. What the hell, man? At least tell me you installed a recirc line,” Flynn muttered.

“Dude, I know how to do my job.”

“Jesus, this is heavy,” Cam whined while Flynn said something Brody couldn’t catch, something no doubt insulting that made Cam laugh. “Too true, Flynn.”

“You can let go now.” Brody tightened the bolts into the backboard he’d previously installed to hold the tank to the wall, now wondering if he should have gone with the freestanding water heater, despite the deal he’d gotten on this new model.

“The two-by-fours are solidly connected to the joist, right? Because if not, this tank will be on the floor before I’ve had my third beer tonight.”

“Yes, yes. I did my due diligence. Flynn, so help me, if you don’t stop telling me what to do, I’ll tell Mike you gave Colin a shitload of soda and candy last time you babysat.”

“Not nice.” Flynn glared.

“But no doubt true.” Cam shook his head. “Really, Flynn. Colin could do with less sugar and more discipline.”

“And this is why I’m his favorite uncle.”

“Hey, girlfriends, can the chatter so I can quit this,” Brody said as he finished tightening the lines. In about an hour, he’d have a much more efficient water heating system, not to mention hot water again. “I swear, I would have had more luck recruiting Girl Scouts to help me. Or Seth.”

“I heard that.” Seth glared at him next to Mutt, who stood with his leash in his mouth. Seth held the flashlight while Brody, Flynn, and Cam replaced his new water heater in the basement. Unfortunately, he’d had a short in the basement while working on the replacement. Typical. His bad luck usually ran in threes. He hadn’t talked to Abby in two days, it had rained on him at the jobsite this morning, and he had a bad feeling he was coming down with a nasty cold. Like postnasal drip would flash “Do me” signs at the woman currently avoiding him.

“This is just pathetic,” Cam continued to complain. “It’s Friday night, my calendar is finally free, and I’m helping numbnuts put a water heater in his house? A place that would be better off condemned?”

“Hey.” Seth glared.

“Not
your
half of the building, Mr. Forelli,” Cam recovered quickly. “From what I hear, your duplex is actually decent. It’s no wonder you sold this half to Brody.”

Decent? A lie, but Cam was a McCauley after all. The brothers had been finessing their way out of trouble since birth. Brody normally referred to Seth’s place as a hoarder’s paradise, and Cam knew it.

Seth gave a harrumph. Then the lights came back on. “I’m going back home. I’m missing my shows.”

“He’s big on the Game Show Network,” Brody explained to the guys. He caught the flashlight Seth lobbed at him and watched the old man shuffle back up the stairs. Seth’s crankiness only endeared the old bastard to him more. “Thanks, Seth.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Mutt turned to watch him. Once Seth left the stairwell, the dumb dog dove off the stairs and knocked Flynn on his ass.

“Damn it.” Flynn had to work to fend off that slobbery tongue.

Cam laughed. “Aw, he likes you, bro.”

Flynn flipped him the finger while shoving at Mutt.

“Awesome.” Brody wiped his hands and stared at his new water heater with satisfaction. “Now I’ll have hot water again. I can stop showering at Mike’s.” Brody frowned. “Where is he, anyway?”

“He said he’d be a few minutes late,” Cam offered. “Had to drop Colin off at Mom and Dad’s before heading over.”

“They live like four blocks over from his house.”

Flynn shoved the dog off him and grinned. “Yeah, but Mom had a friend she invited over. A young,
single
lady
friend, if you catch my drift.”

“Damn. He’s gonna be mad when he gets here.”

“Truly.” Cam dusted off his prissy pants and glared at the dog when Mutt would have made his love known. “Down. Back. Off.”

Brody sighed and grabbed his dog by the leash trailing after him. “Come on, Mutt. Let’s go get you a treat.”

At the word
treat
, the dog darted to the stairs, ripped the leash from Brody’s fingers, and bounded up in two big leaps.

“Gee, he seems to know
that
word.” Flynn stood and scowled at Brody. “I’d think
down
and
off
would take priority over
treat
.”

“Hey. He’s new. Give him some slack.”

“You suck at dog training,” Flynn said. “That beast is totally ruling you.”

“He is not.” The dog barked, urging him to hurry. “That’s his excited bark.”

Cam snorted. “Yeah, right. Whatever. Just don’t let the thing try to jump Mike when he gets here or big bro might break your dog in half.”

“Good point.” Brody had only seen Mike truly angry a few times in his life. Enough to know he never wanted Mike to be that angry with him. Ever.

The three of them trudged upstairs. After Brody tinkered with the faucets a bit and cleaned up, he rejoined his brothers in the kitchen, the only room in the house that surprisingly didn’t need to be completely overhauled.

“This is a big space,” Cam admitted as he leaned against a counter. “I still don’t understand why you thought you needed to buy it when you were renting, but whatever. You should have Maddie help you design it. I bet she’d give you a discount since Flynn is pleasing her on a regular basis.”

“Yes, I am.” Flynn’s goofy grin made Brody laugh.

“When I’m ready to decorate, I’ll call her.”

“Really? ’Cause I’m thinking you want another woman to help you pick curtains,” Flynn teased.

Brody wished Flynn would shut up. He’d been needling Brody nonstop since the party. Brody grabbed a soda from the fridge and opened it.

“Oh? You mean Abby, of course,” Cam answered. “Don’t look so surprised, Brody. I keep on top of things.” Cam traveled for business. Of all the McCauleys, Brody included, he fit in the least. Unlike his blue-collar siblings, Cam worked as an investment specialist and had a head for numbers. The guy was a lot like Vanessa, but pleasant to be around. Normally.

Brody gave him a dubious once-over. “Uh-huh. So they sell men’s clothes where you bought that getup?”

“It’s called a suit, dumbass.” Cam sniffed and glared at the beer in his hand. “You knew I was coming. Was it too hard to get what I like instead of this piss?”

Flynn laughed.

Brody blew out a breath. “Look, your highness, at my place, you get what you get. How is that different from Mike’s?”

“Um, he has decent beer, food, and a nice kitchen?” Flynn offered.

“Don’t help.”

“Truth hurts.” Cam and Flynn shook their heads in commiseration. “But back to Abby,” Cam pushed.

Brody groaned and Flynn chuckled.

“What’s the deal? Flynn said Mike isn’t hot for her. You have a green light. And supposedly you and she did something at the Halloween party. Man, I wanted to be here for that. Too bad my new client insisted on me tailing it out to Maryland last week.”

Brody turned to Flynn. “You tell him everything? I thought we enjoyed keeping secrets from the others.”

“Normally we do.”

“What?” Cam frowned.

Flynn continued. “But this is too good. Brody Singer, frustrated, with his dick in a knot over our own Abby Dunn.”

“Our own? Since when does she belong to you?”

“He’s balling the roommate,” Cam explained. “Transitive property.”

“Stop talking math. Please. I like to put those horrifying days of homework behind me.” Flynn grimaced. “Drink beer, scratch your balls. Burp, damn it. Be a slob. It’s Friday.”

Mike strode through the front door at that moment and made a beeline for the kitchen.

“Take Mike.” Flynn pointed at his brother. “See that manly frown? Those ragged jeans and that holey T-shirt? How about those funky boots? And there, those monstrous fists ready to beat on some hapless—Hey!” He darted around the kitchen island, keeping it between him and Mike, who looked ready to break something—
someone
—in half.

Mutt whined from the bedroom, where Brody had earlier contained him.

“Did you put Mom up to this?” Mike growled.

Brody and Cam exchanged a grin they quickly erased when Mike included them in his glare.

“Flynn,” they said as one. “
He
did it,” Brody added for emphasis, not wanting to be confused with the guy ready to lose his pretty face.

“Dickheads,” Flynn snarled. “I did not,” he said to Mike and danced around the island again when Mike lunged for him. “You know Mom is getting all weird about grandkids. She’s on me and Maddie to have them, for God’s sake. And we’re not engaged yet.”

“I know.” Mike huffed and seemed to settle down. “She keeps strangling Colin with cuddling and Grandma-time. Dad saved him tonight. Poor kid begged me not to leave him with ‘the baby-lady.’ His words, not mine.”

“Poor guy.” Brody shook his head. “It’s just Bitsy excited about her sons hooking up again. Hey, it’s a good sign, right? She wants you to be happy.” Bitsy and Pop, what he called Beth and James McCauley.

Mike studied him with narrowed eyes.

“What?”

“So how come she isn’t all gaga over you and Abby hooking up?”

Brody looked at Flynn. “Really? You told Mike too? Nice, Chatty Cathy.”

Flynn had the grace to flush. “We all like the thought of you and Abby together. So I told them you kind of fooled around on Wednesday.”

Thank God Brody hadn’t told Flynn about what Abby had really done. Only that he’d kissed her and they’d spent a platonic night in her bed, head to foot.

“Yeah. Now that I think about it, Mom should know that
you’re
her next project, not me. I made a kid. I’m done.” Mike crossed his monstrous arms over his chest and smiled. A mean grin that didn’t meet his eyes.

“Now hold on. This thing with Abby is casual. I’m not ready for a relationship.”

“Uh-huh.” Flynn tossed Mike a beer. “If that’s the case, tell me. When was the last time you got laid?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” Unfortunately, the guys didn’t buy that one. They all laughed in his face. “Belinda.”

“Yeah, six months ago. Try again, girlfriend.”

“Shut up. You get laid and all of a sudden you’re an expert on relationships?” Brody couldn’t have said why, but all this talk of him and Abby and the R word made him itchy. “I thought we were here to play cards, or would you rather talk about the fact that you had a wine and cheese party with your new girlfriend the other week?”

Mike blinked. “Are you serious?”

“Too bad I wasn’t invited.” Cam frowned. “Was I out of town?”

Brody and Mike rolled their eyes. Cam
would
want to be included on something that lame. Mike, Brody, and Flynn would rather have had their teeth pulled. “Yeah, Mr. Fancy Pants. How do you like your chardonnay?”

They ribbed Flynn and left Brody alone, thank God. He went to let Mutt out of the back room, warned him to behave, and eased the dog into the group. Mutt took a look at Mike, slunk under the table and gnawed on a bone, and the poker game started in earnest. Everyone forgot about women issues as they discussed the Seahawks’ season and Bitsy and Pop’s recent sniping with each other. No one liked dissention in the ranks, especially not Brody.

An hour later, his cell phone vibrated against his ass, and he called a halt for a bathroom break, praying against all odds Abby suddenly needed help with a clogged bathtub during her bath and had called him for assistance. In his room for privacy, he answered without looking at the number, wanting to be pleasantly surprised.

“Hello?”

“Well, boy. It’s about time.” Alan Singer’s slurred voice came over the line in a connection too crisp for comfort.

Brody went stone cold. “Alan.”

“I’m your father, you little shit. Call me Dad.” Alan laughed, and Brody thought he heard his brother Jeremy in the background.

“I’m busy.” Brody wanted badly to disconnect, but curiosity forced his hand. “What do you want? Money? Forget it.” He’d paid the old man his last dime ten years ago, back when he could ill afford to spend anything not on himself. Still, Alan contented himself to call every few years when he needed something.

“No. It’s Jeremy. He needs a job.”

BOOK: How to Handle a Heartbreaker
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