Somebody to Love(47)

“Um, I’m gonna take a shower,” she said. That sounds like an offer, the HRs advised. “I’m going out tonight. With the girls.”

“Maggie and Chantal?” he asked.

She kept forgetting he had roots here. “Yeah. Well, Maggie. I don’t know about Chantal.”

“Have fun.”

“Thanks. You all set for, um, everything? Dinner?”

“All set.”

Pretty soon, Parker told herself, she should confront the elephant in the room. James, we slept together once, she’d say. Not gonna happen again. We’re both copacetic with that, yes? So even if you look like a chocolate lava cake and I haven’t had dessert in three years, it’s not gonna happen. I’m almost positive.

An hour later, Parker was clean and sweet-smelling and surveying the dark interior of a shabby little bar decorated with wooden lobster traps and the occasional lobster claw. There were about ten tables, a few booths and a counter.

“Parker! Over here!” There was Maggie, at a table in the back. Or it was the other one, her twin. They waved in unison. A busty redheaded woman was nursing a baby, and four or five men watched unabashedly. Beth, the woman from the animal shelter, was also there.

Parker went over. “Hi,” she said, suddenly feeling shy.

“I’m so glad you could come!” Maggie said. Parker assumed it was Maggie, because she had on a Hello Kitty tiara. “Have you met my sister? This is Christy, and she refuses to get a big C branded onto her forehead so people can tell us apart. Really, Christy, you’re so difficult sometimes. This is Beth, who says you’ve already met her, and Chantal, our sister-in-law, and Luke, our nephew. Isn’t he beautiful?”

“Oh, he is,” Parker said, though admiring the child would mean staring at Chantal’s boob, which apparently was the thing to do.

“Glad you’re nursing, Chantal,” one of the men said. “Best for baby.”

“Oh, ayuh,” the others murmured from their trance.

“How’s Beauty doing?” Beth asked Parker.

“Oh, she’s good. Very shy, but she’s getting there.” Parker smiled. “Couldn’t let the poor thing be put down.”

Christy gave Beth a look. “I thought you never put animals down.”

“Sorry, Parker. I lied,” Beth said with a grin.

“Ah, well. She’s a great dog,” Parker said.

“Okay, girls,” Christy said, “let’s get our new pal here a drink. Dewey!” Parker jumped at the bellow. “Bring our friend a mojito!”

“Coming up!” Dewey was apparently the large man behind the bar. Didn’t look much like James, not that she could tell, anyway.

Christy leaned forward. “While we wait, ladies, let me tell you something. I saw the hottest guy in the world today, outside of my own husband, of course—”

“And Malone,” added Maggie.

“And your brother,” added Chantal.

“Disgusting,” chorused the twins, and all three of them laughed.

“Anyway, as I was saying,” Christy went on, “the hottest guy. Now, Parker, you don’t understand. This town is rather difficult. I had to import my husband from away. But locally, if you like surly alpha males, we had one, and sorry, Maggie got him.”

“It’s true,” Maggie confirmed, sucking up the last of her mojito. “He’s my surly alpha male.”

“And if you like irritating, lazy, annoying but cute guys,” Christy went on, “there was exactly one, and he’s our brother, and for some ungodly reason, Chantal married him. Otherwise, there’s Crazy Dave, named that for a reason, Pete Duchamps, our local alcoholic, and Mickey Tatum, our sixty-year-old fire chief. So a cute guy in town…this is big news.”

“This is incredibly exciting,” Beth said. “I can tell he’s my soul mate already.”

“Yes.” Christy nodded sagely. “Who is he, and how can we get him to marry Beth?”

Parker had a feeling she knew who the hot guy was. How many gorgeous new strangers could be bopping around a town of 1,400 people? “Dark hair? Red pickup truck?” she asked.

“Yes! You know him? Is he yours?”

“He’s mine. My nephew,” said the bartender, who’d arrived with a round of drinks. He looked down at her. “Hello. You must be Parker.”

She stood up. “Hi. Are you Dewey?” He nodded. “It’s really nice to meet you, and thanks for your help with the house. You’ve been great.”

“My pleasure, dear,” he said. “The least I could do for Jamie’s friend.”

“Oh, my gosh! That was Jamie Cahill?” Christy said. “He turned out so nice!”

“He’s a good kid,” Dewey said. “Not married. Drink up, girls, and have fun. Nice meeting you at last,” he added to Parker, then lumbered back to the bar.

“I’ve already seen Jamie Cahill, hugged him and copped a feel,” Chantal said. “Sorry, Christy, old news.” She popped the baby off her breast and covered up. “Show’s over, boys,” she said to her audience. “Who wants to burp him?”

“You take him, Maggie. I have my own little burp machine at home.” Christy smiled at Parker. “I have a two-year-old and a two-month-old, and I couldn’t get out of the house fast enough tonight. Shoved both of them at my husband, got in the car and floored it.”