Not So New in Town (7 page)

“I’m with you on the tofu. Can’t handle the texture. But BetterBites has some great-tasting food. You should give us a try.”

Lucy would like to give Brogan a
try
, but she was pretty sure he meant his food and not his tasty beefcake self.

He tilted his head and gave her a long, unwavering stare. “You studied marketing in college?”

“Yes. Marketing and PR. I had several jobs before I succumbed to the underbelly of Anthony’s obsessed rise-to-temp-stardom.”

A sudden calculated look flashed across his face, or maybe she imagined it, because when she blinked, he appeared as relaxed and affable as usual. “Word around town is you’re pretty good.”

She straightened in her seat. “Pretty good? Who’s been talking about me?” She hated being the topic around town.

“Calm down, tiny dancer.” Brogan laughed. “At marketing. Bertie told me you did a great job for her, and Keith wants your help.”

Lucy had helped Bertie market her interior design business, which had led to bigger clients for Bertie in other cities. If Lucy could sign more small businesses with little or no in-house marketing, she could put her own marketing plan in motion. She nodded. “I like working with small companies that need marketing. That’s really my focus.”

“And Keith’s a shrewd businessman. If he’s asking for your help, then he must think you’re qualified.” He shifted toward her, taking up more space, along with all the oxygen inside the car. “I also might have a job to keep you busy.”

Her mouth gaped open. Did his voice drop an octave in a sexy, suggestive way? Why this sudden interest in her? She forced her gaze past Brogan’s five o’clock shadow, firm lips, and white teeth. The teasing laugh lines at the corners of his eyes fueled her suspicious nature. “What kind of job? It better not require a French maid’s outfit, fur-lined handcuffs, or sneaking off to some Motel 6.”

Surprise lit his face. “That thought never occurred to me, but now that you mention it—”

“Let me warn you…I’m packing and have a black belt in karate.” She crossed her arms and tried for Julia’s bitchy glare-down. He appeared innocent, but she could never be too sure.

“Little Lucy, we need to channel all this aggression you carry around into something more productive.” His tone playful, Brogan tilted her chin up with his finger and slayed her with his most endearing smile, designed to break hearts and cause all rational thought to flee from heads. “I’ve got the perfect solution.”

Mesmerized by sparkling green eyes and his unique blend of scents filling her head, Lucy swayed toward his firm, wide mouth…

“What the—!” She pushed on his rock-hard chest as she leaned toward the driver’s window, practically crawling in his lap.

“Uh, okay. This works too,” a surprised Brogan said, wrapping his hands around her waist.

“Pay attention.” Lucy turned his head from the magnified view of her chest region toward the window. “That’s my nephew. What is he doing out at this hour?” She jabbed her finger at the side of the school gymnasium, where Parker stood with two other boys, holding a football and a canned drink.

“That better not be beer, or he has drawn his last teenage breath. Julia is going to kill him.” Her breath came out in short bursts. Holy hush puppies. She smacked her palms to her cheeks. “First me and then him.” She scrambled from his lap and reached for her door. “I haven’t been home for twenty-four hours, and I’m already dealing with a runaway teen. He’s dead meat.”

“Hold on there, Super Nanny.” Brogan reached for her upper arm.

This whole night had taken a sharp turn. Lucy Doolan’s sweet, luscious form had been in his lap, and her lips within inches of his mouth. Lucy. The same girl who’d hidden behind columns, sneaking peeks at him back in high school. The girl who’d handed out socks and jocks or clipped coupons, all for the bottom line. Julia’s younger sister. He had zero feelings for Julia these days, but he couldn’t be too sure about Julia’s feelings for him, and he didn’t want to complicate Lucy’s life any more than it was.

And kissing Lucy would be a complication. But damn…he’d been tempted.

“Let go!” She wriggled like a fish on a hook. “I need to karate kick his lying little butt back into bed before Julia finds out.”

“Calm down. You’re not going to gain anything by going all dingo-dog wild in front of his friends.”

Lucy stopped squirming. “Okay. What do you suggest?”

Hell if he knew. He looked through his windshield at Parker and his friends leaning against the brick gym wall, drinking their beers. Shit. He’d participated in some underage drinking, trying to be cool. Peer pressure could be a real son of a bitch.

“Sit back.” Brogan released his hold. Silky hair spilled past her shoulders, tantalizing his fingers. The oddest urge to scoop it up and bury his face in the glossy strands came over him.

“What are you going to do?” she whispered, as if they were conducting top-secret surveillance. Her concern dragged him back to the problem at hand.

“Just pay a little visit.” He put the car in gear and slowly rolled forward toward the group of boys.

The boys jumped to attention as soon as they spied his car. Parker stood frozen to the spot. His friends tossed their beer cans and hauled ass around the building and across the football field. Parker unfroze and started to chase after his friends.

Brogan slammed to a stop, jumped out, and yelled, “Parker! I wouldn’t if I were you.”

Parker skidded to a halt. Shoulders slumped, head hanging, he slowly turned.

“Parker! What in holy peanut brittle are you doing?” Lucy stood next to her door as she banged it shut. “You told me you were going to bed. I…what…how…?”

Parker narrowed a disgusted look at Lucy. “I’m not a baby. Quit treating me like one. It’s only eleven thirty. What the fuh—”

“That’s enough.” Brogan used his most commanding voice. “Pick up those beer cans and throw them in the garbage and get in the car.” Parker stayed put, aiming a rebellious glare at Brogan. “Now!” Brogan roared. Parker moved as if crossing hot coals in bare feet. After he tossed the cans in the garbage, Brogan held the back door open and ordered, “Get in.” Parker slid onto the seat. “Stay there and don’t move.” Brogan closed the door and glanced over the car top at Lucy.

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked in a loud whisper, surprise written all over her flushed face.

“I’m not sure. But I wasn’t about to let him start blaming you. And if he ever cusses at you, I will tear him apart.”

“But…he’s just a kid. He doesn’t even know me. I don’t think—”

“No excuses. You can’t let him talk to you like that, Luce. It’s disrespectful. You need to show him you’re in charge.” They held their whispered conversation over the convertible’s top.

She pressed fingers into her forehead. “Remind me never to have kids.” She massaged her temples and then reached for the door handle.

Brogan couldn’t agree more. He remembered how hard his mom had struggled to rein him in while working a full-time job.

He slid behind the wheel into a tension-filled car. Lucy twirled her hair and gnawed her bottom lip, and Parker sat in stony silence in the back. The urge to smack his own forehead against the steering wheel overwhelmed Brogan as he wondered what he’d gotten himself into.

Brogan backed up and pulled out of the parking lot, and Parker broke the uncomfortable silence. “Who are you anyway?”

Lucy swiveled in her seat. “Parker, this is Brogan Reese, a good friend of your mom’s and…er, mine.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard of him. So what’s he, like my dad? Decided to come home and play daddy all of a sudden?”

Lucy gasped. “Parker, that is rude—”

“This is bullshit!” Parker exploded. “I don’t need some long-lost daddy. I’m doing just fine.”

Yeah? The kid’s attitude said differently. Brogan wasn’t Parker’s dad, but it was obvious the kid needed one, or someone to keep him in line. He’d heard enough. He hit the brakes in front of the school and stopped. Alarm widened Parker’s blue eyes as he caught Brogan’s expression in the rearview mirror. Brogan turned and blasted the little snot with his fiercest scowl.

“Let’s get something straight. I’m
not
your daddy. I’m sure you’ve heard a lot of gossip in this town, but none of it is true about me being your daddy. And if you don’t believe me, I’ll be happy to take a paternity test.” Parker crossed his arms over his skinny chest. “But I’m gonna be your worst nightmare if I ever hear you speak to your aunt Lucy or your mom like I’ve heard just now. Do you understand?” he growled.

Parker stared out the window. “Yeah, whatever.”

“Nope. Not good enough. Apologize to—”

Lucy’s small hand gripped his wrist, pressing his nautical rope bracelet into his skin. “Brogan, it’s all right. He didn’t mean anything—”

He didn’t give Lucy a chance to finish. “Apologize to your aunt…
now
.”

Parker cut his sullen gaze to him and held it for a few beats, but when he looked at Lucy, he swallowed hard and lowered his lids. “Sorry, Aunt Lucy.”

“Sure, Parks.”

Brogan eased Lucy’s death grip on his wrist. “How many beers did you drink?” he asked Parker in a calm voice.

“I didn’t—”

“How many?”

Parker shifted in his seat, turning his cell phone over in his hands. “One. Not even. I only had a few sips. Give me a Breathalyzer test if you don’t believe me.”

Brogan waited. Parker lifted his stubborn chin. “I don’t even like the stuff. It’s kinda gross.”

Brogan remembered that too. “Okay. I believe you.” He settled back in his seat, more than ready for this night to be over.

Parker leaned forward, grabbing Lucy’s headrest. “Aunt Lucy, you gonna tell my mom?”

“Um, well, I don’t know. She’s going to ask, and…”

Pure panic replaced the tension as Parker spoke. “Don’t! I swear not to do it again. She doesn’t have to know. I’ll be real quiet when we get home and go straight to bed. Please, Aunt Lucy. It might upset her…and something might happen to…you know…her.” Parker’s voice trailed off as he struggled to tamp down his emotions. The impulse to shake his fist at the skies and howl at the moon came over Brogan. One more screwed-up boy trying to wrestle the world without the guidance of a father.

Lucy glanced at Brogan, searching for answers. What the hell did he know? Maybe tonight was a wake-up call, and Parker really would behave from now on. And then again, maybe not. Brogan gave Lucy a pathetic shrug.

Lucy blinked. “Okay, Parks. Just this once. But don’t test me again, understood?”

Parker nodded. “Thanks, Aunt Lucy.”

They drove the next five miles in silence, until Brogan pulled into their driveway, and before he’d put the car in park, Parker bolted.

“Thanks again, Aunt Lucy,” he called as he raced toward the front door.

“
Shhh
, you’ll wake your mom,” Lucy hissed.

Parker disappeared inside without making a sound.

“You think I’m doing the right thing?” A tiny frown creased her brow. Witnessing Lucy’s anxiety did something weird to his insides. Made him want to step up and take charge…set things right.

“We’ll see. I think this isn’t the first time he’s slipped out.”

“Yeah, me too.”

Brogan opened her door and tugged on her hand. “Come on.” Pulling her behind him, he said, “I’ve got an idea that might work.”

Lucy skipped in her Keds to keep up. “Good. Does it involve metal bars and one meal a day of stale bread and tepid water?”

He stopped under the covered entrance and released her hand. “He’s going out for football, right?”

Light from the outdoor sconces made her blond highlights shimmer. “Yeah,” she said slowly. “Practice starts Monday, why?”

“Have him up and ready to leave tomorrow at six a.m.”

“Like in tomorrow morning?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Her shoulders sagged. “I hate early-morning assignments. I’d rather be dragged around town by my tongue.”

Brogan smiled and wondered how she’d look first thing in the morning, with sleepy eyes and mussed-up hair. Dangerous thoughts. He shook his head and refocused on the problem at hand.

“This will be different. Make sure he’s dressed in workout clothes and running shoes. I’m taking him to the track at the school.”

“No one should rise before six. It’s inhumane.” A small pout formed on her lips.

Lips Brogan wanted to kiss. But kissing Lucy was still a bad idea…for tonight.

“I’ll make it worth your while. I promise.” He smiled down at her flushed face and suspicious gray eyes.

He watched as she seemed to wrestle with wanting to argue but instead weighed her next words. “Why are you doing this?” His brow lifted. “Why are you helping me?”

Why indeed. He’d spent half the day wrestling his own demons about the dad he’d never known. He didn’t need to take on Lucy’s and Parker’s problems too. But something about Lucy felt like unfinished business. He couldn’t put a finger on it, but he sensed it. She intrigued him with her courage and honesty. Her willingness to open up. Rage had drummed through him, vibrating every cell, when she’d told him how Tony the dick Tiger had screwed her. He hated like hell that she’d been hurt. But he didn’t put voice to any of those thoughts. Instead, he simply said, “Because that’s what friends do. Help each other.”

“If you say so.” The doubt written all over her face said she didn’t believe him. Tough. She didn’t have a choice.

“You promise to have him ready? At six?” he asked as she reached for the doorknob.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah. And when I open this door, there better be a box of hot Krispy Kreme doughnuts in your hands.”

“Even better than that. A hot, homemade banana nut muffin.”

“Hmmm. Krispy Kremes are hard to beat.” She paused. “Add a large latte.”

“Deal.” He grinned, thrusting his hand out. She wavered before slipping hers into his. He squeezed with a gentle shake, savoring the feel of her small palm pressed against his.

Reaching up, she gave his right shoulder an offhanded pat. “You look like a nice guy, but I know you’re up to no good.” She opened the front door. “That banana nut muffin better be worth it,” she said before slipping inside.

* * *

Brogan moved through his dark, empty house, dodging construction debris left over from the crews, until he settled in his bedroom, the only room still intact. Propped up in his queen bed, wearing only boxers and a goofy smile on his face, he cruised through sports channels on the ancient bulky TV still sitting on top of his dresser.

Something about Lucy ate at him, making him want to help her. The huge chip on Parker’s shoulder would be hard to knock off, but he’d placed his money on Lucy. He didn’t doubt that she’d win Parker over, but there’d be some severe bruising and battering in the process. Taming a stubborn teenager with attitude had to be one tough job. He didn’t know anything about raising teenagers, but he remembered the hell his mother went through when he’d started to give her trouble.

With the remote in one hand, he stretched his other arm behind his head. That had to be the reason he’d volunteered to train Parker at the crack of dawn. Atoning for his own sins against his mom. Brogan rolled his shoulders. Nothing like an early morning workout to knock the ’tude right out of a guy. It would be good preparation for Parker.

Exercise had become an addiction to Brogan and had eased a lot of pain over the years. Like whenever he thought about his dad, who’d abandoned him when he was two. Or why his mom never spoke about it. Or the night he’d pulled the stupidest stunt of his life by having celebratory sex without protection. Didn’t get much dumber than that.

Yep, he was a healthy guy, and so were his swimmers. After one night of not suiting up and what he thought had been no-strings-attached sex, he found himself two months later standing inside a small chapel along the Chesapeake Bay, pledging his love to Kathryn St. Johns, his biggest investor’s
pregnant
daughter. Brogan still winced, picturing his mom sitting in the first row, wearing a pale-yellow silk suit and a strained, worried look on her face. He hated that he’d been the one to put that look there. But that paled in comparison to what he really hated—the panic he’d felt at being trapped and how often he’d thought about running…just like his dad.

Brogan pressed the Off button, plunging the room into darkness, and tossed the remote on his nightstand. He rolled to his side, punching his pillow beneath his head. The fear and anxiety he’d felt the day he’d married Kathryn made his chest constrict in terror, but the knife-stabbing pain to his heart twisted whenever he thought of the miscarriage two months after the wedding. He and Kathryn had stuck it out five long months after losing the baby before separating. And for three excruciating years, he’d swallowed the overwhelming urge to flee and struggled to work things out. The sharp edge of failing sliced his insides to ribbons. But in the end, the broken marriage won the fight. Too many holes in the bottom of the boat. He couldn’t save the sinking vessel. It never got easier. He still felt the pinching inside his skull, even after all this time.

You didn’t build a marriage on one bottle of Jack Daniel’s and a night of drunken sex. There had been no real love—not even much lust. Just responsibility topped with a heavy dose of guilt. He’d paid for his mistake with a high-priced divorce, a very expensive buyout, and a lifelong distaste for whiskey. Now, permanent relationships remained crossed off his list, and he never traveled without a healthy supply of condoms.

Tossing on his bed, he kicked his blue cotton quilt to the side. The irony in all this had to be, no matter how careful he’d become, he was still being accused of fathering someone’s child. His swimmers hadn’t been anywhere near Julia…
ever
. Sure, he and Julia had made out…a lot. And a few times they’d come pretty darn close, but for some unspoken reason, they’d always stopped.