Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(85)

Dad laughed again.

She couldn’t remember the last time they’d had a real conversation.

Swallowing the lump in her throat, she headed inside. The house was quiet; everyone was outside, and who could blame them? It was a beautiful night.

She heard a voice. The voice, as it were. Impossibly deep, with that rumble that scraped her special places in a most satisfying and yearnful way.

Lucas and Savannah were sitting on a curved-back sofa. He was reading to her...The Wind in the Willows, a book Colleen had read over and over as a kid. Lucas had on a pair of glasses; that was new. And hot. He looked sinfully well-educated, like a professorial Lucifer. And she felt like the slutty college girl who was about to offer whatever it took for that B to become an A.

“‘But Mole stood still a moment, held in thought. As one wakened suddenly from a beautiful dream, who struggles to recall it, but can recapture nothing but a dim sense of the beauty in it, the beauty!’”

Lucifer—er, Lucas—was a good reader. Savannah was pressed against his arm, looking at the pictures. She could read to herself, of course. Then again, if Lucas had offered to read Colleen something...anything...the instructions on how to use her three-in-one remote, for example...she’d fall over herself saying yes. Especially if she could cuddle with him on the couch. Naked.

“Hi, Collie!” Savannah said, catching sight of her.

Colleen jumped guiltily, then feigned surprise. “Hey, you two,” she said.

“Want to see the secret room I found?” Savannah asked, wriggling off the couch.

“Um, maybe we shouldn’t—”

Savannah was already running up the stairs.

Lucas stood and slipped his glasses into his shirt pocket. “After you,” he said.

“Right,” she breathed. She went up the stairs, Lucas close behind her. Could he see up her dress? Was she wearing nice underwear? Well, of course she was, she was Colleen Margaret Mary O’Rourke, after all, but—

“Up here!” Savannah called. There was another staircase, this one not so ornate as the first, going to the third floor.

At the top of the stairs was a little hallway. “Sweetheart, we probably shouldn’t be sneaking around the house,” Colleen began.

“Oh, come on,” Lucas said. “It’s fun. Where’s your sense of adventure, mía?”

“I guess I’m a grown-up now,” she said, cocking an eyebrow.

“So? Grown-ups can have a sense of adventure,” Savannah said, opening a door. “Look! You can see everything from up here! We can be like Harriet the Spy.”

The room’s ceilings slanted down; though it was finished, it was still the attic, and hot and musty in this weather, too. It held a few cardboard boxes; otherwise, nothing except for two small dormered windows.

But yeah, the view was great. Especially for spying. The picnic guests seemed to be having a blast, and why not? The band was playing, smoke rose up from the chicken pit and Keuka glittered in the distance, white sails sharp against the cobalt water.

Colleen felt Lucas behind her, and she had to resist the urge to back into him, feel his arms around her, pressing against his—

You really are trashy, said her brother’s voice in her head.

She focused on the crowd below. There was Faith, distinguishable by her red hair. Rufus and Faith’s dog were romping joyfully around, making toddlers scream with joy (or terror, maybe). And oh, nice. Bryce was pushing a youngster on a swing—looked like Cole Richards, one of her namesakes. Paulie was there, too, visible thanks to the yellow Thneed. The band started playing in earnest now—“Devil with a Blue Dress On.” Mr. Petrosinsky had spared no expense. Hopefully, it’d pay off for Paulie.

“It smells so good down there,” Savannah said wistfully.

“Are you hungry, honey? Want to eat with me?”

“Hi, baby!” As if summoned by those words, Gail appeared in the doorway. “There you are! What are you doing? Spying?” She walked over. High heels, even though it was a picnic.

“Hi, Gail,” Colleen said.

“Colleen.” She gave Lucas a big, bleached smile. “Hi there. I don’t think we’ve met.”

“We have,” Lucas said. He didn’t offer more.

“Mommy, I’m hungry,” Savannah said, tugging Gail’s hand. “Please let me get a hamburger. Please? And potato salad? I love potato salad.”

“Sure, baby. No bun, though, okay, and maybe a green salad instead of potato. Carbs, remember?” She flashed the teeth at Lucas again. “We have to watch our figures, especially if we’re going to be cheerleaders!”

“I don’t think we’re going to be cheerleaders, Gail,” Colleen said. “I mean, I just don’t see Lucas doing all those flips. I’m past thirty, and you’re what, forty-two now?”

“Hardly, Colleen,” Gail said sharply. “I’m thirty-five.”

“Really? They’re doing great things with Botox these days. You should check it out.”

“Mom,” Savannah said, whining now.

“Don’t pull on me, Savvi!” Gail sang, batting the two-inch eyelash extensions that sat like tarantulas on the end of her eyelids. “You know how it is, Lucas. Kids.”

She turned, smoothed her dress over her ass and sashayed to the door, swinging her h*ps so violently that Colleen was surprised she didn’t fall over.