The Great Bedroom War (8 page)

Dani’s brow wrinkled. “What’re you talking about?”

He gestured toward her outfit. “That is why you’re wearing that bimbo-in-training get-up, isn’t it? Because I know my daughter wouldn’t dress in a way that would make a guy think she was easy.”

The six-foot penis had the good sense to look abashed. “Uhh, maybe I’d better go.”

“No!” Dani blurted. “You just got here. He can stay, can’t he, Dad?”

Nick turned toward the kid and narrowed his gaze. “For a while. But if you want to keep breathing, pal, I suggest you keep your paws off my daughter’s butt.”

“Yes, sir. It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Riverá.” The boy extended his hand. “Ryan Flynn.”

Nick accepted the kid’s firm handshake, wishing he could say he was equally pleased. The boy was way too old for Dani. But at least Nick hadn’t found them inside the house alone.

“We were just goofin’ around while we wait for mom to come home,” Dani explained.

He glanced at the beat-up Toyota parked in the driveway. From the flash of guilt on Dani’s face, Nick would wager an entire paycheck she’d ignored the rules and had ridden home with her friend instead of on the school bus. Unfortunately, it wasn’t something he could prove.

He turned to Ryan and jerked his head toward the acoustic guitar lying on the black Toyota’s hood with the boy’s discarded T-shirt. “You play?”

“I’m still learning. Dani told me you taught her, and she promised to show me a few things this afternoon.”

As long as it was only his daughter’s proficiency on the instrument the kid hoped to see.

During the induction phase of her treatment, Nick had bought a second-hand Fender from e-Bay, hoping it would distract Dani from her illness. With so much idle time on her hands and a bit of inherited talent, in only a few months, she’d become fairly accomplished on the guitar.

“Ryan’s the vocalist in his band,” she told him.

“Is your voice good,” Nick asked, “or simply the best in your group?”

“It’s okay.” The kid shrugged. “Right now, I play keyboard, but I’d like be able to switch off to the guitar, too.”

Six-foot penis or not, he liked the kid’s modesty. The only disturbing thing was the boy reminded Nick of someone he wouldn’t trust around his daughter—a blond version of
himself
at eighteen.

“You seem nice enough, Ryan, but aren’t you a little old to be friends with Dani?”

“What?” She scowled. “He’s only sixteen. Ryan just got his license three months ago. Who do you want me to hang out with? Mom’s preschoolers?”

Oh, crap. The kid was evidently an early bloomer. By the time Nick had physically matured that far, he’d been a senior in high school and getting lucky with half the cheerleading squad. Not that any of those stuck up teases would’ve ever publically admitted knowing a bad seed like him.

He shrugged, gesturing toward the kid’s hairy muscled chest. “He looks a lot older than sixteen.”

Ryan took the hint and pulled on his T-shirt, hiding his well-developed physique.

“The rules haven’t changed,” Nick told Dani. “You’re still not dating till you’re fifteen.”

“Can’t I even be friends with guys for the next six months?”

He glared at her shorts. “Not if you dress like that.”

“It was eighty degrees in the shade when I got home. I can’t help it if none of my summer clothes fit anymore.”

At least Sam hadn’t let her go to school in that get-up.

A horn tooted, making Nick flinch. As Sam turned her blue Prius into the driveway, he glanced toward the street at his SUV, praying the dog had gone to sleep. “Wow.” He waved as she slid out of her car. “That was a short hour.”

“When Casey heard you were here, she told me I could leave earl—” Her smile dropped as she evidently caught sight of Dani. “What on earth are you wearing?”

“We were discussing that,” Nick told her. “It seems summer lasted longer than our daughter’s wardrobe. We need to find her some cooler things in a larger size.”

“I stored some of my shorts that are too small now in the attic. They might fit her.” Sam glanced at Ryan leaning against his car, and her eyebrows knitted. Her obvious lack of recognition indicated she’d never met the boy, either.

“Meet Ryan Flynn,” Nick told her, “Dani’s friend.”

Sam’s back became as stiff as the giant maple tree shading the front yard. “We need to talk,” she muttered through her teeth, gesturing toward the porch.

Nick followed her to the front steps.

“That’s the kid Ms. Carlson told me about,” she whispered. “You have to get rid of him.”

“No way.”

“What do you mean,
no way
? That boy cuts school nearly as often as he attends. Do you want him corrupting our daughter?”

“Of course not. But if we forbid Dani to see him, she’ll sneak around behind our backs.” Nick glanced at his daughter and added, “Believe me, Sammy, I know. Because that’s exactly what I would’ve done in her place. And you keep saying she inherited my rebellious streak.”

As far back as he could remember, his mother had insisted he was destined to be as worthless as the lowlife who’d taken advantage of her. Only the loving man she had the good sense to marry had believed in him. Unfortunately, his adoptive father, who’d been a welder, died from asbestos-related lung cancer when Nick was barely thirteen.

After promising to take care of his mother and Justin, Nick had cut lawns, delivered newspapers, and shoveled snow to help pay the bills until he turned fourteen and was able to get a real job as a mechanic’s assistant. Still, his mother never showed a speck of faith in him, which made Nick, as a teenager, determined to prove she was right to believe he was no damn good. Of course, when he supposedly
forced
himself on his poor brother’s girlfriend—as his mother automatically assumed—and got Sam pregnant, Nick merely confirmed what his mother had always known.

Her bastard son was just like his natural father.

“So once again,” Sam said, jerking his focus back to her, “you’re unilaterally deciding what’s best for our daughter without giving me any say in the matter.”

“No. You’re welcome to order Dani to steer clear of Ryan. But I refuse to ostracize that boy.” Odds were he didn’t have a dad, either—or at least not one who cared about him. Most likely Ryan was a decent kid at heart and simply needed a little guidance. “You forget—I know what it’s like to be an outcast.”

Besides, with any luck, the boy’s presence would prevent Sam from screaming too loudly about the dog.

“Then what do you suggest we do?”

“You know the old expression,
keep your friends close and your enemies even closer
? Well, I plan to stick to that boy like lint on an Armani suit. As my new best friend, he won’t have a chance to be alone with Dani.”

“Ahhh.” Sam nodded. “If she thinks we like him, she’ll decide she doesn’t.”

“That’s the general idea.” He jerked his thumb toward the kids. “Go invite Ryan to stay for supper while I unpack the SUV.”

Sam’s posture stiffened again. Evidently, she had no clue that he planned to move back into the house.

~*~

“Unpack?” Sam did a double take at Nick, praying she’d misunderstood. “You don’t actually think you’re staying
here
?”

A nonchalant shrug accompanied his
well-duhhh-of-course
scowl. “How else am I supposed to spend more time with Dani?”

“I assumed you’d be renting an apartment in the area.”

“And how would that improve my relationship with her? Our daughter made it clear this summer she doesn’t want to waste her precious time visiting me. We need to live together.”

“Absolutely not!” Sam slashed the air with her hand. “You are not moving back in.”

“You’re the one who insisted our daughter is starved for my affection, and is”—Nick looked pointedly over at Ryan—“about to give it all up to some guy. You can’t have it both ways,
Abejita
.” He cocked his head and lifted one eyebrow. “Unless....you want to move out and give
me
custody of Dani.”

Right. She could imagine how good that would be for a sick child. “And let you feed her doughnuts and pizza for breakfast and dinner? I think not.”

“Then I guess it boils down to how important our daughter’s welfare is to you. Are you willing to put her needs before your own?”

Nothing like manipulating her with a little mother’s guilt.

“And if you recall,” Nick continued, “I have as much right to live here as you, seeing as this place is still half mine, and I’ve been paying the mortgage.”

“I didn’t ask you—”

“And I didn’t want to watch the bank foreclose on my daughter’s home,” he added in a patronizing tone, no doubt meant to remind her how dependent she still was on him.

Dani had been only a baby the first time they’d driven by the house. One look and Sam had fallen in love. The old Victorian reminded her of the dollhouse her dad had built for her. The divorce settlement had left her and Nick co-owners, but it had also mandated she was responsible for any bills aside from major house repairs and improvements.

“If you recall, I also covered your share of the house’s paint job last spring.”

Without the money to buy Nick out, all she could do was call his bluff. “Maybe Dani and I should move into an apartment I can afford. Then you can live here.”

“No way! You’re crazy about this house. And I don’t want my daughter living in some hovel or sitting home every weekend because you can’t afford gas.”

“Oh, pardon me. I forgot I was dealing with the all powerful
hombre
, Don Nicolás. Oh, wait!” She gasped dramatically, clutching her chest to underscore her sarcasm. “I just remembered. We’re not
married
anymore. What you want isn’t a concern to me.”

“Look, Sammy-Bee, pull in your stinger. I don’t want to argue about the same old crap. Accept the inevitable. You can either reimburse me, or let me move back in.”

“That’s blackmail.”

“Call it whatever you like. But any judge would consider it simple
quid pro quo
. I’m more than happy to continue helping financially, but you need to reciprocate my generosity with some of that neighborly hospitality you claim to enjoy, living in a small town.”

She could threaten to take her chances in court, but the last thing she needed was to be sued for over a year’s worth of back mortgage payments and taxes. She didn’t have much choice but to agree to let Nick stay. “Okay, but just for now. And I expect you to start looking for your own place, ASAP.”

As he sauntered toward his SUV, he flashed a self-satisfied grin over his shoulder “Yeah. I’ll get right on that,” he agreed, and then muttered just barely loud enough for her to hear, “just as soon as the Delaware River dries up.”

Damn him. She clenched her fists, resisting the urge to smack the smug out of him.

Nick popped the rear hatch with the remote on his keys and called, “Danita, there’s a surprise for you in the back seat. Ryan, would you gimme a hand with the boxes?”

While Dani and Ryan loped side by side to the street, Sam started up the porch steps. A high-pitched shriek stopped her in her tracks.

“Ohmigosh! You got me a dog!”

Dog? As in
D-O-G
? Sam spun around in time to see a hairy pony jump from the SUV’s back seat. Oh, no!

No, no, no, NO! He was not bringing that walking, flea-bitten carpet into her home.

Dani raced the beast across the street, holding onto his leash. “Mom! Look what Dad brought me. Isn’t he adorable?”

No-o it wasn’t. Sam backed away, trembling. In fact, if she hadn’t been told it was a dog, she’d swear the ugly mongrel was a baby Sasquatch crawling across the lawn.

Nick joined them, toting a large duffle bag in one hand and his guitar case in the other. Ryan followed close behind with a cardboard box under each arm.

Dani dropped to her knees and hugged the dog. “What’s his name?”

“Chewie.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “With a name like that, he is definitely not coming into this house.”

“He’s way past the chewing stage. It’s short for Chewbacca Mutt-Fugly.”

Ryan laughed. “Awesome name.”

Dani glared up at Nick. “Don’t think just ‘cause you finally got me a dog it excuses you for leaving us.” She stood and trotted up the steps, leading the dog inside. “Come on, Chewie. Let’s get you a bowl of water.”

After Ryan followed Dani into the house, Sam planted her fists on her hips. “Nick, you know how I feel about dogs.”

“No. I don’t. What do you have against them?”

“They make me nervous, all right? Especially huge ones with big teeth”—she pointed toward the open door—“like th-that vicious throw rug.”

“Rugs don’t bite, and neither does he. I’ve never known a gentler animal than Chewie.”

“How could you do this to me?”

“I didn’t
do
anything to you, Sam. I’ve had the dog for over three months. I can’t simply abandon him. And I figured giving him to Dani might help her warm back up to me.”

“Well, you’ll have to get him a dog house.”

“No. He’s been living indoors in southern California. It wouldn’t be fair to suddenly make him sleep outside in the cold.”

“He’ll get used to it.”

“And you could just as easily get used to him.” Nick turned and strode into the house.

“This is so typical of you!” She stormed after him. “This was the one issue I was able to stick to my guns on, and the first thing you do when you come back is force a dog on me.”

“Why does everything have to be so freaking personal with you?” Nick dropped the duffle bag in the foyer and the thud echoed up the staircase. “It’s simple. I have a dog. I’m moving back with him. Period. Stop reading hidden agendas into every situation.” He leaned his guitar case against the wall. “Give the mutt a chance before you decide to hate him.”

Once again, the arrogant jerk had painted her as paranoid and unreasonable and left her without a single response that wouldn’t make her seem like an uncompromising shrew. Even so, she’d be damned if she’d let him have the last word this time.

“Fine!” She stomped down the hallway. “But you’re feeding the beast and cleaning up after it.”