Dream a Little Dream (Chicago Stars, #4)(107)

It was starting to get dark, so Cal tucked Chip under his arm and hauled him like a sack of potatoes up the steps onto the deck. “You’re getting too good with that football, buddy. You wore me out.”

Chip giggled as Cal gave him a couple of extra bounces. Cal had hoped playing with the boy would take his own mind off what had happened a few hours earlier with his mother, but it wasn’t working.

He looked up and saw Jane standing inside the French doors with Rosie in her arms, and he felt a jolt right in the middle of his chest. Sometimes it hit him that way—hard—the sight of these two females he loved more than anything in the world. There had been a time in his life when he hadn’t wanted either one of them, and he never let himself forget that. The memory kept him humble.

Rosie was clutching that god-awful stuffed rabbit, and she started to kick and squeal as she caught sight of Chip. As soon as they were inside the French doors, Cal let the boy down, brushed Jane’s lips with a quick kiss, and took Rosie from her.

The baby gave him a big grin, then blew a noisy raspberry, her newest trick. He smiled and wiped his face on her already damp T-shirt. Only then did he notice that Jane looked harried.

He lifted an inquisitive eyebrow. “I haven’t been outside more than fifteen minutes.”

She sighed. “Wait till you see our bathroom.”

“The toilet paper again?”

“And the toothpaste. You didn’t put the cap back on, and I wasn’t fast enough.”

As if she knew they were talking about her, Rosie gave him another drooly grin and clapped her hands in delight. For the first time he noticed that she smelled like Crest Tartar Control.

“Rosie’s got a lot of mischief,” Chip said with all the solemnity of an adult. “She’s a handful.”

Cal and Jane exchanged amused glances.

Rosie kicked again and held her arms out toward Chip, dropping the rabbit in the process. Cal set her on the floor, and she immediately threw herself at the boy’s legs. He crouched and tickled her tummy, then looked up at Cal, his forehead puckered with worry.

“When’s my mommy coming to get me?”

Cal stuck his hand in the pocket of his slacks and jingled the change. “Tell you what, buddy. How’d you like to have a sleepover right here?”

Jane looked at him with surprise, but he avoided her eyes.

“Is it okay with my mommy?”

“Sure it is. You can sleep in the room right next to Rosie’s. Would you like that?”

“I guess.” The worry marks didn’t disappear from his forehead. “If Mommy says I can.”

“It’s fine with her.”

Cal still hadn’t figured out how he was going to break the news to the boy that his mother was in jail. He’d planned on having Ethan’s help, but when he called the hotel in Knoxville where his brother was supposed to be staying, the desk said he wasn’t registered. He’d asked for Kristy and heard the same thing, so they must have changed their plans. He’d ended up putting a message on his brother’s home answering machine and hoping he’d check it.


He still needed to explain things to Jane, who was giving him one of those looks that said she knew something was going on, and he’d better come up with a few answers, especially since he’d led her to believe he was just bringing Chip by for a quick visit before they put Rosie to bed.

Cal leaned down to ruffle the boy’s hair. “Keep an eye on Rosie for a few minutes, will you, buddy?”

“Sure.”

The family room was gated off and childproofed, but they still couldn’t leave her for long, and he didn’t steer Jane any farther than the kitchen. He procrastinated by pulling her into his arms and nibbling her neck. She snuggled closer. It wouldn’t take much to distract her, but he’d only be postponing the inevitable.

“Chip’s spending the night with us,” he said.

“I heard. What’s going on?”

“Now don’t get upset, but . . . We need to watch him for a while because Rachel’s in jail.”

“In jail!” Her head shot up, conking him in the chin. “My God, Cal, we have to do something.” She tore herself out of his arms and raced for her purse. “I’m going to her right now. I can’t believe—”

“Honey . . .” He caught her arm, stroked it. “Stop for a minute. Rachel trashed the drive-in. She belongs in jail.”

Jane stared at him. “What do you mean she trashed it?”

“Destroyed the kitchen, smashed some equipment, graffiti on the screen. The whole nine yards. Near as I can gather, she wanted Gabe to marry her, and, since he wouldn’t do it, she decided to get even with him before she left town.”

“Rachel wouldn’t do that.”

“I saw the drive-in and believe me, you’re wrong. Odell found a pair of Greyhound bus tickets stuck in her purse. I guess this was her good-bye present to Gabe.”

Jane sank down on one of the counter stools, then reached out and stroked her hand along his forearm. She liked to touch him. Even when they were arguing, she’d sometimes stroke him. “But it just doesn’t add up. Why would she do something like that? She loves Gabe.”

“She loves his bank account.”

“That’s not true. She cares for him. All you have to do is see the way she looks at him. You and Ethan are so protective of Gabe that you’re blind where she’s concerned.”