Hold On (The 'Burg #6)(95)

He looked down at me. “Think I just fell in love, brown eyes.”

I couldn’t stop it, no way.

I swayed toward him.

He caught me in both arms.

And he still wasn’t done.

“He’s a good man, takin’ care of his mom.”

“Yeah,” I whispered.

Merry smiled at me, soft and sweet.

Ethan stormed into the room, looked at us, and stopped.

“Okay, maybe I was wrong about the gooey, ’cause…gross,” he declared.

Merry didn’t let me go.

Ethan threw out an annoyed hand. “We gonna get pizza or what?”

“We’re gonna get pizza, bud,” Merry said, dropping one arm but keeping his other around me to guide me Ethan’s way.

“You okay?” I asked him as we moved.

“Uh…no,” Ethan answered. “Peggy’s totally crazy and Dad just stood there and let her mouth off at you. All he cared about was that Merry’s a cop. What’s that all about?”

“Well…” I let that trail off, not sure I felt like sharing Trent’s rap sheet and drug history and thus his natural aversion to law enforcement with Ethan at this juncture.

“It doesn’t matter.” Ethan lifted his chin again, eyes on me. “He’s weak. I’m not weak. I’m like you. I can take care of myself. I can take care of you. And I’m like Merry, who’s all, get in your vehicle and go, real angry-like but still patient when you just gotta take one look at him and see he so totally wanted to whale on Dad.” Ethan looked to Merry. “I kinda wish you did, though Mom says hitting people is wrong. Dad needs some sense knocked into him.”

Merry let out a sharp, startled bark of laughter.

I swallowed mine back and, once I managed this, said, “Ethan, honey, you need to calm down.” He looked to me. “You need a shot of tequila?” I offered.

“Yes,” he answered instantly.

“Well, you’re gonna have to make do with the buzz of a two-liter glass of Coke at Reggie’s,” I returned.

He stared at me and suddenly the emotion that was controlling him shifted and I saw his jaw set, but he couldn’t fight it.

His chin wobbled.

My heart skipped and the pain of it nearly took me to my knees.

“They’re not gonna get me, are they, Mom?”

“No, baby,” I answered quickly, firmly, but softly, holding back, wanting to rush to him and put my arms around him, but not wanting to mother him when he was going through a lot, holding it together, and doing it in front of Merry.

He looked into my eyes, nodded, and said, “Sorry, Mom, but he knows.” He looked up to Merry. “You’re police. You know the law. Are they gonna take me away from my mom?”

“Absolutely not, Ethan,” Merry stated quickly, firmly, and not softly.

Ethan swallowed.

Then he nodded at Merry.

“Maybe we should cancel things with Teddy,” I suggested, and Ethan’s attention came back to me. “After pizza, we can all hang for a while.”

“Only if Merry stays for waffles in the morning,” Ethan decreed.

I tensed.

Merry didn’t.

He said, “If it’s cool with your mom, I’m here.”

I drew in a deep breath and nodded.

Merry slid his arm around my shoulders again and stated, “Your mom and me’ll go to the game with you and you can hang with your bud. Then we’ll bring you home and we can all hang here.”

The worry slipped away as Ethan’s face lit when he realized he had me, Merry, pizza, the game, time with his friend, and together time at home. “Awesome! I hate to miss the ’dogs when they’re playing at home.”

“Then we got plans,” Merry muttered.

“I’ll take my bag back and call Teddy,” Ethan announced, grabbed his bag and took off.

I turned to Merry.

“So, we f*cked around for a week and a half getting to the zone where we’d start, then I catapulted you straight to hyperdrive with my kid, my life, and my problems. Does your hair feel like it’s on fire?”

Merry smiled at me. “Nope.”

“Well, that’s good,” I mumbled, looking at his shirt.

“Cher.”

I lifted my eyes to his.

“That thinkin’ I did was not about knowin’ I wanted back in your pants,” he stated. “I already knew that. It was about me knowin’ I wanted to be a part of your life. I wanted this to happen, honey. It happens now, two days from now, two weeks from now, I wanted it. I got it early. I’m down with that. So stop worrying.”

I glared at him. “You can stop being perfect. I’m getting a complex.”

He again smiled at me. “You look good. There’s no better ass in a pair of jeans in the entire county and it’s mine to tap. You’re a great mom. You put together a great pad, though I’m worried the ghost of Jimi Hendrix is gonna glide through at any second. You raised a great kid. And I get to make you both waffles in the morning. I’m thinkin’ I didn’t do too bad either.”

God!

Merry.

“Ethan caps my gooey, I’m capping yours,” I decreed.

He dipped his head to me, curling me closer, his tone telling me his thoughts on what gooey was were vastly different than mine. “How much I get?”