Waiting On You (Blue Heron #3)(91)

“She better be, I guess. God forbid her emotional state gets in your way. Do you have a younger mistress on the side?”

“Colleen, don’t make everything about you, okay? I waited till you and Connor were grown to divorce your mother. I think you’d be over it by now.” He paused. “I wanted you to know.”

With that, he turned and left.

Colleen unclenched her jaw. Note how he didn’t answer the question about a girlfriend, the ass.

Savannah was going to be wrecked. Colleen pulled out her phone and sent her sister a quick text: Thinking of you, Yogi! How’s your day going? xoxox

A second later, the answer came. I miss you too! That party was fun! Guess what? I lost three pounds!

Colleen closed her eyes. A nine-year-old shouldn’t have to worry about weight issues. Can’t wait for Friday, she texted back. Love you!

The bar phone rang, waking up Victor. “O’Rourke’s, home of the finest watermelon mojitos in the known universe.”

“It’s Lucas.”

The rush of heat was fast and thrilling. “Hey.”

“Dinner tonight?” There were hammers in the background; he must be at her mom’s or the public safety building.

“Okay.”

“Name the place.”

“Mine.”

“Got it. Seven?”

“Great.”

She hung up. World’s shortest phone convo, but hey. He never was good at talking in the first place. She was going to sleep with him tonight. Or, more likely, not sleep with him. It was time.

Connor came in through the back, his arms laden with whatever he’d picked up at the farmer’s market for today’s special. He took one look at her face and stopped. Scowled. “I don’t want to hear about it,” he said. “I warned you.”

“Thanks for the brotherly concern. Dad and Gail are getting a divorce.”

“Oh, shit,” her brother said. “Poor Savannah.”

“I know. Dad’s being his prickish self.”

“Why would today be any different?” He pushed through the swinging doors to the kitchen, where Rafe was wiping down the counters.

“Ciggie break for the beautiful people,” Rafe said, tossing the dishrag into the sink and grabbing his backpack. He zipped out the back door.

Colleen sat on the stainless steel counter. “Get off,” Connor said. “Some people care about where their food is prepared, unlike you.”

“I once ate a Reese’s Peanut Butter Cup I found on the sidewalk,” she said. “Yet here I am, still walking the earth.”

“Doesn’t make you less gross. Come on, off.” He shoved her toward the stool and sprayed down the counter, full of martyrish zeal.

“I don’t like Gail, God knows,” Colleen said, “but I don’t see Savannah being better off with them divorced.”

“I imagine you asked Dad why they were splitting up.”

“Yeah. He didn’t answer. My money’s on Hot Young Mistress 2.0.” Poor Gail. Her whole identity was being hot young mistress/wife...and even if she wasn’t quite as young as she used to be, she was still a helluva lot younger than Dad.

Poor Gail. That was a new thought.

“Con,” she said, “you ever miss the old Dad?”

Her brother stopped his anal-retentive cleaning and looked up. “What old Dad? He’s always been a prick, Coll.” He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed to the sink and began rinsing cilantro.

“Not always.”

“He was. He just liked you more, so you didn’t notice.”

“Doesn’t seem that simple.” She looked at her brother’s face. He was in the Food Zone, hypnotized by the smells and textures of his work. “Why did you get all the Zen genes?” she asked.

“Also the smart genes, don’t forget.”

“Is that what your woman tells you? Oh, by the way, I figured out who it was.”

“Did you?”

“Julianne from the library.”

“Nope.”

“Damn. Okay, I’m leaving. Monica and Hannah are both on tonight, and that dopey Annie. Have a good one.”

He looked up. “Be careful,” he said after a beat.

“Yep. No drinking and driving, no unprotected sex.”

“And no tuna fish.”

“Got it.”

“Are you cooking, or is he?”

“I am.”

“Poor Lucas.”

“Hey, why don’t you cook for us? I can come pick it up just before seven.”

A jaundiced look. “No, Colleen. I’m not making you two your pre-sex meal.”

“It might be a postsex meal.”

“You disgust me.”

“Fine,” she said. “I don’t need you. If you can read, you can cook. You don’t need to go to the CIA.” She stuck out her tongue and smacked him on the back of the head as she left.

“By the way, I won’t be coming home tonight,” he called. “Because I don’t want to hear a damn thing.”

“That’s fine by me. Go to her, your ladylove.” She paused in the doorway. “Is it Lorelei? Because I thought Gerard and she would be perfect together.”