The Newcomer (Thunder Point #2)(79)

“I just got a little behind, that’s all.”

“Right. Behind enough that you’d take your children’s college savings and try to roll it into a big payoff? What are you going to do—put it all on black at the roulette table?”

“If you’re not going to help me, just say so.”

He rested his forearms on the table and looked at her with sympathy. He looked into her eyes and knew that the young girl he’d loved was just not in there. “Yes, I’m going to help you,” he said. “First of all, I have to give you advice. This comes from Eve, actually. If you find yourself missing your children, they’d love to get a note or card. Maybe on birthdays or holidays. You could send a gift, and it doesn’t have to be expensive—just a token to say they’re remembered, that would be welcome. You can’t just show up in their lives after a decade and expect a warm reception, but you’re their mother. They can’t help the fact that they’d like to know you.

“Second, if you borrowed from someone who isn’t exactly in the legitimate loan business, I’d be happy to help you file a complaint. I know all the right people. And third, I would be happy to locate a Gamblers Anonymous meeting and give you a ride. No questions asked.”

She scowled at him. There weren’t any tears, either. “Just get out of here and leave me alone.”

“And fourth,” he said, standing. “I’ll pay for your coffee, and this is for the last time. Good luck, Cee Jay.”

She just looked at him with weary eyes and a sarcastically twisted mouth. He noticed that she’d tried to cover up the dark circles under her eyes, but the makeup had failed.

“Listen, let me say something. As hard as the last fifteen years have been, I have to thank you. For giving me my family, I mean. They’re great kids and they’re the life in me. I’m sorry things have been so awful for you. My life has been spare—no fancy houses or cars. But it’s been perfect in every way. I can’t think of a person on earth I’d trade places with.”

“Good for you,” she said tiredly, resting her head in her hand.

He didn’t leave money on the table. He wasn’t sure how bad off she was. She might grab a ten-dollar bill and race to a craps table and try to turn it into a hundred, which she’d then try to turn into a thousand, which would turn into nothing in no time. He went to find his waitress. “I’m leaving,” he told her. “What’s the tab for the coffees?” He paid her and gave her a nice tip. “Thanks,” he said.

One of the perks of wearing a uniform complete with weapons and driving an official car, the valets were more than happy to let him leave the vehicle in front of the hotel, locked. He tried to pass the valet a five, but the kid waved him off. “Forget it, Officer. We’re good,” he said.

“Thanks for taking care of the car, son,” he said. “Have a good day.”

* * *

At nine o’clock all was quiet at the McCain house. Eve was in her bedroom, either studying or whispering scary love-words to Landon over the phone, Dee Dee and Ryan were supposed to be having quiet time prior to sleep. Mac tapped on Lou’s door and she said, “Come in.”

She was sitting on her bed, her TV turned low, her cell phone in her hand.

“I’m slipping out for an hour or so,” Mac said. “I’m going to Gina’s. I’ve got my phone.”

“I’ll watch the nest, but I’m going to sleep soon.”

“I won’t be late. She has an early morning.”

Less than ten minutes later he was parked in front of her house and he went to the front door. He knocked and she answered. He held up two bottles of beer in one hand and smiled at her.

She was drying a pan. Her hair was piled on top of her head, held with a clip and she wore those plaid pajama bottoms that were so worn in some places the Goodwill might reject them. No makeup. Fitted tank top. She had a wholesome look about her; accessible and genuine. She was a hardworking woman who saved her money and didn’t splurge on superficial things. And she looked so beautiful to him, she took his breath away. He wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her.

“What are you doing here?” she asked with a smile.

“Come out on the porch with me. Have a beer,” he said. “I had a long day. I saw Cee Jay.”

Gina was clearly shocked. “She called you?”

He shook his head. “I tracked her down.”

Gina threw the pan and dish towel into the chair by the door and joined him on the porch. They sat on the top step and he twisted off the caps on their bottles. He leaned back against the porch post, one long leg stretched out on the porch and bent at the knee, the other rested two steps down. He patted the space between his legs and she slid over. She smoothed the fabric of his jeans over his hard thighs.

He bent and kissed her neck, inhaling.

“You’re fresh out of the tub.”

“I had a serious case of waitress legs today. Sore. Tell me about her.”

He sighed. “She’s messed up.” And then he unclipped her blond hair and let it fall to her shoulders.

“She sure doesn’t look messed up. All you have to do is mention her name and I start to feel shabby and poor.” She stretched her hands out in front of her face, looking at the short, cropped nails. “She’s so glamorous.”