Love Irresistibly (FBI/US Attorney #4)(27)

“Maybe you can just tell me something about him?” Cade paused. “But, Mom . . . how about if you tell me something good this time?”

His mom swallowed, and wiped her eyes. Uh-oh, Cade thought. Maybe he’d pushed it with that one.

She turned to face him. “I haven’t totally messed you up, have I?”

Cade pretended to think about that. “Even if you have, I probably wouldn’t know it.”

She smiled, just like he’d hoped. Then she tucked her arm under the pillow, getting more comfortable. “All right, three good things about Noah Garrity. He can make people laugh. Back in high school, everyone wanted to be friends with him. Second, he was an awesome football player. Whenever he had the ball, the entire stadium cheered so loud you could probably hear it a mile away. And last,” she stopped for a moment, as if this one was most important, “for the homecoming dance, he told me he’d spent an hour picking out the flowers for my wrist corsage. He said he couldn’t find anything as pretty as me.”

Cade parsed through these precious nuggets, the most information he’d learned about Noah Garrity in ten years. He thought the part about the flowers sounded a little mushy and lame, but the other stuff was good to know. And he couldn’t resist one last question. “Do I look like him, Mom?”

She touched his cheek softly. “The spitting image.”

All next morning, his stomach was doing the roller-coaster thing again. His mother seemed about to say something when he came out of his room dressed in his best button-down shirt, but then she bit her lip and went back to making their breakfast.

Just before noon—a half hour late, probably just because of traffic—Cade heard a car pull up in the driveway. Unable to help himself, he ran to the living room and looked out the front window.

It was him.

Cade watched as a man wearing a brown leather jacket climbed out of a black car with a few dents and scratches. Noah stared at the house for a moment, then shoved his hands into his jacket pockets and walked to the front door.

When the doorbell rang, Cade hung back, unsure what to do or say. His mother answered the door, said a few things in a low tone that he couldn’t hear, and then, after ten years, his father was there, standing in his living room, looking very tall and cool in his leather jacket.

And suddenly, everything changed. Cade no longer felt nervous, or even excited.

He was angry.

Ten years it had taken him to show up.

“Holy crap.” Noah shot a look at his mom. “He looks just like me.”

She flashed him one of those fake Mrs. Kramer smiles. “That probably wouldn’t come as such a surprise if you’d been around before this.”

Noah pointed to Cade. “Are we going to do this now, in front of the kid?”

“The kid was thinking the same thing,” Cade interjected defiantly.

Both Noah and his mom looked over at him. Cade braced himself for the lecture—no sassing, always be respectful to adults—but none came. Instead, she nodded. “Well. I’ll let you two talk.”

With a wink of encouragement at Cade, she left them alone. A moment later, he heard the clinking of bowls in the kitchen.

Noah shifted awkwardly. “Talk. Right.” He gestured to the couch. “Maybe we could sit down? I bet you have a lot of questions for me.” He laughed at that, like this was so funny.

Cade followed Noah to the couch, thinking that his mom should’ve mentioned a fourth thing last night—that his father was a douchebag.

He sat on the opposite end of the couch, determined to look tough. He had lots of questions, all right, starting with one in particular. “Why haven’t you come to see me before this?”

Noah blinked. “Sure. Okay. I respect a man who says what’s on his mind.” Another laugh.

Cade glared.

Noah cleared his throat. “Um, well, it’s complicated, Cade. I was just a kid when your mother had you.”

“She was the same age, but she still wanted me.”

Noah flinched. “Christ, you don’t pull any punches, do you?” He sighed. “I needed to figure things out with my life, I guess.” He glanced over. “I know you don’t understand that, but maybe someday when you’re older, you will.”

“Is that why you’re here now? Because you figured things out?”

“You’re like a lawyer with all these questions.” Noah smiled. “Your mom told me last night how smart you are. You get that from her, you know.”

Cade thought it was best to keep silent on that one. But duh, obviously. “You didn’t answer my question,” he pointed out.

“I’m trying to figure things out, Cade. I’m really trying.”

There was another long silence.

“I heard you like football,” Noah finally said. “You know, I used to play myself.”

Cade tried to seem disinterested. “Were you any good?”

Noah cocked his head and took him in, sizing him up. “How about I show you?”

Startled by the offer, Cade looked around. “Right now?”

“Yep. Go grab your football. I’ll meet you in the front yard.” As if that was settled, he got up from the couch and headed out the door.

Not sure what else he was supposed to do, Cade went into his room and got his football. He stepped outside and saw Noah waiting on the sidewalk, smoking a cigarette.