Games of the Heart (The 'Burg #4)(49)

Christ.

She opened the door and came in, Layla bounding in with her.

“Hey, Dad,” she greeted, eyes lit, mouth smiling, shrugging off her jacket.

“There a reason you’re standin’ outside in the cold, dark February night starin’ at the Holliday Farm?”

Her jacket dangling from her fingers, her eyes lit again but not in the way that made him lament for the first time in his life he didn’t have two sons because he figured this next phase might just kill him.

Studying her closely, Mike still didn’t get this new light.

Then he couldn’t think of it at all when she replied chirpily, “Yeah. Rumor has it Fin and Kirby’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ to town and she has horses. I was hoping to see them.”

“Pardon?” he asked softly.

She walked to the couch, her eyes never leaving his and tossed her jacket on the back.

“Finley Holliday’s Aunt Dusty is movin’ in. His Mom isn’t doin’ too good and they’ll be plantin’ soon. So she’s moved back from Texas or, uh…wherever and she’s gonna be around a while to help out.”

Mike stared at his daughter.

Fuck. Shit.

Fuck.

“Anyway,” she went on and with effort he focused on her, “I didn’t see the horses. I did see Fin and Kirb leavin’ with their Mom. Didn’t catch a glimpse at their aunt though. Maybe that drive from wherever with her horses wore her out or something.”

Dusty was home.

Dusty was home and was going to be home a while.

Dusty was f**king next door, home for a while and right then home alone.

Mike knifed off the couch muttering, “I gotta go somewhere. I won’t be back for a while.”

He was walking down the hall when Reesee called, “Okay Dad, see you later.”

Mike lifted a hand and flicked out two fingers but didn’t look back.

He just grabbed his jacket, his keys and walked out the door.

*

Grinning, Clarisse bent her neck, lifted the phone in both hands and her thumbs flew over the keyboard.

Worked like a charm. He’s already gone, she typed then hit send.

Five seconds later, her phone binged and at the top of the text it said, “Fin”.

The text said, Awesome.

Her grin got bigger and she skipped down the hall and jogged up the stairs to her room, Layla following.

*

“You forget something?” I called when the front door opened.

Fin, Kirb and Rhonda just left. A movie. Rhonda was against it and even I wasn’t so sure since it was a romantic comedy. But for some reason Fin was adamant they “get out of the house, let Aunt Dusty relax and settle”.

Fin was a good kid, thoughtful, attentive, he noticed things but even for Fin, that was weird.

And I was not sure Rhonda needed to go to a romantic comedy. A reminder of romance I did not think would be a good thing. It had been over a month and my sister-in-law was still skating the edge of grief gone bad. Her eyes were sunken in her head. She’d lost weight. And she was even more flighty than normal to the point she was nearly hazy.

Not good.

Maybe they were home because Rhonda had called a halt to them going out on a school night after dinner all the way to the mall to watch a movie that wouldn’t get her and the boys home until after ten.

Then again, Rhonda didn’t have much of a backbone so I couldn’t imagine, even though it was clear she didn’t want to go, she’d be able to pull that off.

I was in the living room flat out on the couch. It had been a long three-day haul, me and my babies. Fin was right about one thing, I was tuckered right the hell out. I needed to relax and settle. And I was doing that with a beer and really shitty TV.

“No, you did. You forgot to lock the door.”

That answer came not from Fin, not from Kirb and not from Rhonda but from a deep, familiar voice.

I froze then shot to my feet, whirling to the door to see Mike standing there.

What the f**k?

“What are you doing here?” I asked.

Then I watched with astonished eyes as he shrugged off his leather jacket and threw it on an armchair like he was going to stay a while.

My eyes went from his jacket to his face and I felt them narrow.

“We need to talk,” he announced.

“No we don’t,” I replied immediately.

“Yes we do,” he shot back.

“Get out,” I ordered then I was moving back and doing this quickly and instinctively. And I was doing this because he was moving forward faster and with purpose.

Toward me.

I scuttled backward across the room, hit a cabinet, adjusted then my back hit the wall about half a second before Mike hit me. His body to mine, his hand at the side of my neck sliding back and up into my hair and his other arm curling low at my waist.

My heart was beating like a jackhammer as I looked up at him, shocked.

“What are you doing?” It came out breathy which pissed me right off.

“Like I said, we’re going to talk.” That came out firm but soft and warm with his eyes staring straight into mine also being warm but visibly determined.

“Step back,” I demanded.

“No.”

“Step back!” I snapped.

He pressed me into the wall and repeated a low, “No.”