Frisk Me(74)

“You went to her after, did you not?”

Luc’s eyes narrowed. Now, just how the hell did she know that?

“Actually, she came to me,” he heard himself say.

Damn.

He was already running his mouth, and she hadn’t even offered him a pignolo yet.

At least he’d stopped short of telling his mother about the sexy lingerie show. There were some things one did not tell one’s mother, no matter how amazing her baking skills.

Maria’s smile widened. “I like her.”

Luc said nothing.

“And Nonna likes her.”

Well. That was…something. Nonna and his mother hadn’t agreed on something since…Luc couldn’t remember.

“You’ve only met her once.”

“And?”

“And that’s not long enough to determine whether or not you like somebody,” Luc said.

“Did you know at first meeting that you liked her?”

Luc snorted. “The first time I met Ava Sims was when she was ripping me a new one for writing her a parking ticket.”

“But did you like her?” Maria pressed.

Luc opened his mouth, but shut it just as quickly.

It didn’t matter. His mom read his mind anyway and laughed gustily. “You liked the way she looked.”

“Well it certainly wasn’t her respect for traffic laws,” he muttered.

“Don’t discount physical chemistry,” his mother said with a smug smile. “When I first saw your father…”

Luc lifted a hand. “Nope. Just…no. We’re not doing that. And don’t tell me that you were sold on Ava Sims after one meeting because she’s gorgeous. That works on a hot-blooded single man, not his married mother.”

“No,” his mother mused. “I mean, yes, she’s very beautiful, but that’s not why I liked her.”

“Oh, do tell,” Luc said half-sarcastically. “Was it the way she totally sucked up to everyone in this house, because I’ve gotta tell ya—”

“It was the way you looked at her.”

Luc broke off at his mother’s quiet, matter-of-fact statement. “You like a girl because of the way your son looked at her?”

Her lips twitched. “You’ll understand when you have a child someday.”

Luc’s stomach twisted. “Mom—”

It was her turn to hold up a hand. “I know, I know. You’re not currently on the marriage and baby track. But you never know.”

He did know. He would never put any woman or child in the position of Mike Jensen’s widow and fatherless son.

No matter how he looked at Ava Sims.

Which, come to think of it…

“What do you mean, you liked the way I looked at her?” he asked, even though he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to know.

His mom did nothing but smile, and he pointed a suspicious finger at her. “That. What is that?”

“You know what that is.”

Luc did know. Her smile stunk of mother knows best.

Actually, it was more like mother knows something you don’t know, but she’s not going to tell you what because you need to learn for yourself.

It was the worst.

But Luc’s brain didn’t feel big enough to deal with the Ava dilemma and the persistent guilt that his dad had risked his own career for Luc’s.

He tackled the second one. It seemed easier, somehow.

“Mom, did Dad tell you—”

“That two years ago that he asked Preston Nader not to run a story on the death of Mike and that poor baby girl?”

“Yes.”

“And that he also asked Joe Polinski, Anna Courture, and Keith Jobs?”

Luc leaned forward, both baffled and annoyed at his mother’s calm tone. “Mom, he bribed them.”

“I didn’t bribe anyone.”

Luc turned to see his father standing in the doorway, looking every bit as authoritative as he had in his police commissioner days.

Luc stood so he was eye level with his father. “You said you called in favors.”

“Different than bribery. I didn’t cross any ethical lines.”

“Bullshit!” Luc exploded.

“I took them to beers!” his dad yelled back. “I asked them to keep your name out of it. They agreed. That’s all there is to it. I made it clear that it was a personal request, not a professional one.”

“And the ‘favors’ you called in?”

His dad shrugged. “I helped Joe move. I gave Anna’s daughter an exclusive interview for her high school newspaper. I don’t remember the others, but I assure you they were every bit as tame.”

Luc sat back down. “What about Mike? And Shayna? They deserved a mention.”

“Luc.” This from his mother. “Do you really think your father wouldn’t have checked with their surviving family members first?”

Luc’s mind went blank as he met his father’s troubled gaze. “Did you?”

His dad came into the tiny room, lowering himself next to his wife on the love seat.

The scene was familiar. How many times had Luc sat across from his parents in this very room, sitting in this very chair? Through bad news. Lectures. Good news.