Tempted Again (18 page)

But then she’d never met “two Polish broads from Chicago,” as his paternal grandfather Buddy referred to them. They were indeed a force of nature.

Connor immediately went into triage mode. “Was any blood spilled? Any bones broken? Anyone seriously hurt?”

Ruby Mae shook her head. “Nothing like that. Not that I wasn’t tempted.”

“Where are they now?” he asked.

“Talking with the mayor.”

“Why? What did my mom do wrong?”

“Where should I begin?” Ruby Mae sank into the visitor’s chair across from him and briefly lowered her head to the edge of his desk before sitting up and glaring at him. “You should have warned me that they’re dangerous.”

“I wouldn’t go quite that far.”

“They wanted to look at our holding cells, so I showed them.”

Connor could see where this was going. “Don’t tell me you let them near the busted cell…”

“The one with the lock that doesn’t work? Of course I warned them not to touch that door. But did they listen to me? Nooooo.”

“So how did you get them out?”

“Who says I did?” Ruby Mae growled.

“You said they’re talking to the mayor.”

“That’s right. They called him on their cell phone to complain about cuts in our budget that don’t allow for
the lock to be repaired. He came over to talk to them face to face. It was one of their demands.”

“Their
demands
?”

“Your grandmother came up with most of them. Better coffee was one of her demands and I have to say I go along with that one,” Ruby Mae admitted.

Connor closed his eyes and counted to ten.

“I don’t suppose we could just leave them locked up now that the mayor knows where they are, huh?” Ruby Mae’s raspy voice actually sounded a bit hopeful.

“I’m sorry they’ve disrupted things.” He was prevented from saying more by the arrival of Mayor Bedford.

“You certainly do have a unique family,” the mayor said.

Connor sighed. “Yes, I do.”

“Don’t worry. I called Digger Diehl. You know, the Drain Surgeon? Anyway, he’s also a locksmith. He got them out.”

“Too bad,” Ruby Mae muttered.

“What?” the mayor asked.

“It’s too bad they locked themselves in there. They don’t follow orders very well.” Rita Mae shot an it’s-your-fault glare at Connor. “I specifically told them to avoid that cell.”

“Anyway, all’s well that ends well,” the mayor said in that cheerfully hearty voice of his, the one Connor thought sounded like Santa Claus. “They told me how much they are looking forward to the town’s Rhubarb Festival tomorrow.” He puffed out his chest. “I may have bragged a bit about it.”

“Where are my relatives now?” Connor asked.

“At Cups Café, having lunch.”

Connor nodded. “I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

“Such a devoted family man,” he heard the mayor say as Connor was leaving. “His grandmother told me how disappointed she is that he isn’t married yet.”

“She’s going to be even more disappointed when he reads his stubborn granny the riot act,” Ruby Mae said. “Talk about a train wreck.”

*  *  *

Connor walked into Cups Café to find his mother and grandmother calmly sipping coffee and eating grilled cheese sandwiches.

He could tell by the way that everyone in the place turned their heads to stare at him that they all knew about his family getting locked in the holding cell. The owner was one of Ruby Mae’s contacts. Or maybe his mother had filled in the large lunch crowd.

He yanked out an empty chair at their table.

“Connor.” His mother gave him a radiant smile. “I’m so glad you could join us for lunch.”

“Are you trying to get me fired and sent back to Chicago? Is that your plan?” he growled.

“Of course not.”

He could tell by her expression that his mother was telling the truth. But he could also tell that, in her eyes, the idea had some merit. She just hadn’t thought of it.

GM patted his hand. “You look like you’re having a hard day. Want some of my sandwich?”

“No. I want you two to stay out of trouble. Do you think you can manage that?” He glared at them both.

They serenely smiled back at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” his grandmother said.

“Getting locked in that cell? Ring any bells?” he said. “Demanding to speak to the mayor?”

“He seems like a very nice man,” his mom said.

“He’s married,” the woman at the next table leaned over to say.

Connor’s glare extended to her now as well. “We’re trying to have a private conversation here.”

“Then you shouldn’t have come to Cups,” the woman said before returning her attention to the menu.

He didn’t know who she was, but she was right. This wasn’t the proper place to have this conversation. “I expect you both to return to my apartment when you are done here.”

“We were just trying to be helpful.” His mom gave him one of her trademark reproachful looks meant to instill guilt.

“Well, don’t,” he said.

“You weren’t this crabby when you lived in Chicago.”

“Yes, he was,” GM said. “Sometimes.”

“Gee, thanks,” Connor said.

“You’re welcome.” She patted his hand again before holding up half of her grilled cheese sandwich. “Sure you don’t want a bite?”

“No, thanks.”

“Don’t you worry. We’ll cook you up something good for dinner,” his grandmother said.

He just prayed they didn’t cook up any more trouble.

*  *  *

“You owe me,” Marissa told Connor that evening as he walked by the library booth she was setting up for the Rhubarb Festival the following morning.

“I do?”

She nodded. “You owe me
big-time
.”

“How do you figure that?”

“Your mother and Spider got to talking in the library this morning and once she told him who she was, he talked her into setting up a Facebook account online using his laptop.”

Connor swore under his breath.

“He told her how she could post photos for her family and everyone to see. She was about to pull out your baby brag book when I interceded.”

“Tell me she didn’t flash that photo around,” Connor said.

“Did I hear you mention ‘flash’?” Flo asked as she walked by.

Marissa had seen Flo earlier setting up the divorce support group’s booth where they were selling homemade strawberry-rhubarb jam to raise funds. Their slogan was “We Help People out of a Jam.”

“Are you talking about the Rhubarb Flasher?” Flo asked Connor. “Is he back?” She looked around nervously.

“No, he’s not back,” Connor reassured her.

“How can you be sure?”

“Because he’s locked up in Statesville Prison in Illinois for unrelated charges.”

“Thank heavens for that,” Flo said. “Then I can look forward to a peaceful festival.”

As soon as she left, Connor resumed his earlier conversation with Marissa. “So did Spider get my mom on Facebook?”

“No, I stopped them in time.”

“How did you manage that?” he said.

“Do you mean how did I manage to do that with your
‘Resistance Is Futile’ mother? You have the same trait, you know. You also inherited her stubbornness.”

“She claims I got that from my dad. You really did talk her out of it?”

“I took her aside and told her about the dangers involved with social networking. We talked about the predators and the security risks. And then I helped her set up an account.”

“You
what
?”

“You heard me. But I did the privacy settings so the access was limited and we discussed inappropriate content and photos.”

“Is
your
mom on Facebook?” he demanded.

“Yes. Both my parents are.”

“Hi there,” her mom said as she joined them. “I finished our Women’s Club booth so I thought I’d stop by the library booth and see if you needed some help. But I see you’ve already got a nice strong man here to assist you.” She gave an approving nod at Connor’s presence.

“Connor isn’t pleased that his mother just opened a Facebook account,” Marissa said.

“Is this about the naked baby picture thing?” Marissa’s mom asked. “Because if it is, I can assure you both that as moms it’s our duty to embarrass our kids every chance we get.” She laughed at their aghast expressions. “I’m only kidding. Geez, can’t you guys take a joke? Oh, there’s Connie. I’ve got to run. We’re both judges in the Rhubarb Queen pageant tomorrow and there are still a few things to iron out yet.”

Marissa looked at Connor. “I’m sure they’ll behave.”

“Your mom and Connie?”

“Your mom and my mom.”

“I seriously doubt that,” Connor said.

“But then my bud Connor was born a doubter.” Marissa recognized the newcomer as Kyle Sullivan aka Sully. He’d recently spoken to her teen group about a day in the life of a firefighter. Sully was one of those guys who never met a woman he didn’t like, who could have posted for a Hottie Firefighter calendar, and who had a self-confessed thing for Chicago-style hot dogs served at a place by the interstate. His blue eyes and sun-bleached light brown hair made him look like a bit of a beach bum. But she had the feeling that when that fire alarm bell rang, he was all business.

“This place is as crowded as Union Station in Chicago during rush hour,” Connor grumbled.

“It’s good to see you again, Marissa,” Sully said with a grin.

“What do you mean
again
?” Connor demanded.

“We hooked up at the library,” Sully said.

“Hooked up?” Connor was growling now.

Marissa couldn’t help it. She was enjoying Sully’s flirting and Connor’s apparent jealousy. She could have explained that Sully was a guest speaker. She probably
should
have explained. But she didn’t. Instead she grinned back at Sully, which didn’t please Connor one bit.

“She doesn’t need your help,” Connor told Sully. “She’s got me.”

“Does she?” Sully said.

“She does.” Connor stood there and crossed his arms as if daring Sully to proceed further.

“What if she doesn’t want you?” Sully said.

Both men turned to confront her. She sighed. The flirting game was clearly over and pissing rights were about to begin. They’d just converted her into a prize to be won. Or territory to be fought over.

Which was ridiculous. She knew from word around town that the two men were good friends. They were both probably having fun at her expense.

That possibility irritated her. “Go away. I don’t need or want either one of you. I’m doing just fine on my own.”

“Translated, that means she wants you to go,” Connor told Sully. “And me to stay.”

“I think you’ve got that backward. She wants
you
to go and
me
to stay,” Sully said.

“If you both insist on staying then I’m putting you to work,” Marissa warned them. “The bunting needs to be hung from the top of the booth. The ladder is here.” She pointed to the back of the booth.

“I’ll do it,” Sully quickly said, shedding his white T-shirt. “It’s hot,” he explained with a grin.

Since Connor was in uniform, he couldn’t remove any articles of clothing. And when a moment later a resident from the Hopeful Meadows Senior Center asked for Connor’s help setting up their booth, he was duty-bound to go. But the glare he sent Marissa over his shoulder told her that this wasn’t over.

“He’s a good guy,” Sully told her.

Maybe, but was he the
right
guy for her? Marissa wished she knew the answer to that question.

Chapter Twelve

“I
was just wondering…does really size matter?” Connor’s mom asked Marissa the next day.

Marissa almost spit out the rhubarb lemonade she was sipping. The Rhubarb Festival was in full swing here at Hopeful’s lovely Centennial Park. Marissa had done her morning shift at the library booth without any hint of trouble, so she was completely unprepared for a question like the one that Wanda had just posed to her.

“In the contest for the best rhubarb leaf contest,” the older woman clarified. “I was just wondering.”

“Um, yes, I believe size matters as well as condition,” Marissa said in her best librarian voice.

“That’s good to know,” Connor said, appearing out of nowhere as he so often did. “How about stamina? Is that a requirement as well?”

Marissa refused to blush. Since glaring at him hadn’t
worked in the past, she tried something new. She decided to confront him. It didn’t matter that he was in uniform and wearing those sexy cop sunglasses of his. It didn’t matter that their kiss had been as incredible as she remembered. He wasn’t going to intimate her. “Are you still talking about rhubarb?” she said.

He adjusted the sunglasses so he could eye her over the rim. “Of course.”

“Then stamina doesn’t matter. Not for rhubarb.”

His grin told her he got what she meant. Now that she considered what she’d just said, she realized it could be misconstrued as flirting with him. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d flirted.

It felt surprisingly good.

What was wrong with her? She was standing here surrounded by Connor’s mom and grandmother, who were both eyeing her as if sizing her up for birthing offspring.
Connor’s
offspring.