“You better hope so. I’m making the enchiladas.”
He turned and headed into the house. “Now that you’re here we can start the game.”
“The game?” She started after him.
“You play thirteen-point pitch?”
“Um, no.”
“Give me an hour and you will. Want to take your coat off?”
She stopped in the doorway to the living room. It was…a house. A home. So typical, so classic, so like where she’d grown up she had trouble swallowing for a moment past the lump.
Everything was clean, but clearly old and well-used. The furniture was mismatched and a little ragged around the edges, but the chairs looked perfect for curling up with a book, and the couch was the ideal spot for weekend napping.
For a moment she could picture everything from a Christmas tree in the corner to friends gathered around watching a game. On the massive flat screen TV.
A person’s home truly showed what was important to them, she thought with a shake of her head. She was guessing there was an elaborate game system somewhere close by as well.
She followed Kevin into the next room, which turned out to be the kitchen.
It smelled good. The whole house smelled good. Like home cooking, laundry soap and…Doug. Good Lord. She knew his
smell
? But she did and this house embodied it. Which seemed rational, but her senses were so overwhelmed by the feeling of
him
that she felt a little fuzzy looking around.
A circular table with three chairs sat to her left and the appliances, cupboard and countertops were to her right. It was also quintessential. Canisters for flour, sugar and the like sat on the countertop next to the coffee pot which was next to the microwave. The fridge was covered with crayoned pictures and photos she assumed were of Doug’s nieces. There was a stack of mail next to the base for a cordless phone and the little hooks on the wooden rack that read
Keys
held a huge assortment of, well, keys.
Obviously the enchiladas were already in the oven and there were bowls of chips and salsa on the countertop closest to the kitchen table. Dishes were sitting out on the counter but had not been put on the table yet and she had to resist the urge to set the table. That had always been her job growing up and again, the feeling of home hit her and she took a deep breath.
“Why don’t you toss your coat over the couch?” Kevin suggested as he pulled a glass from one of the cupboards and plugged in the blender.
Her coat. Right.
That
would be more than awkward. “Um, no. I’m good.”
He looked over at her. “You’re going to keep your coat on?”
“Yes, definitely.”
He turned to her, his eyes running over her, the coat, her bare legs below the hem of the coat, and back up to her face. A knowing smile pulled up the corner of his mouth. “He really is an idiot.”
“Excuse me?” She felt itchy under the coat.
“He’s got a girl who will show up on his doorstep naked under a trench coat but he’s not even calling her? Total idiot.”
She felt her cheeks heat. “I should have asked more questions about what tonight was about, I guess.”
“Doug’s bedroom is the third door on the left down the hall. Why don’t you borrow something to put on?” Kevin said, turning back to the blender. But not before she saw the grin on his face.
She had no better ideas, so she headed down the hall.
Doug’s bedroom hit her harder than the rest of the house the moment she stepped through the door. The first thing she noticed was the furniture was way too big for the space. The headboard on the king-sized bed took up one entire wall. There was barely space to walk between the end of the bed and the dresser, which stretched across most of the wall it sat against, and was covered with papers, receipts, books and magazines. The wall opposite her had a window with plain blue curtains covering it. The curtains matched the blue of the comforter that looked to have been just tugged quickly into place.
It was cramped and obviously the last place Doug spent time tidying or straightening up.
Which made her happy.
He clearly wasn’t trying to impress or entertain women here.
She scrounged through the dresser drawers of underwear, socks and stack upon stack of T-shirts. The man had a real addiction.
Not wanting anything even remotely see-through, especially since she didn’t have a bra, she finally settled on a black one that said, “Come to the Dark Side. We have cookies”. The shirt fell to mid-thigh but she also slipped on some dark gray boxer shorts. In her purse she found the ponytail holder from the night at the baseball game and used it to gather the loose waist of the shorts and tie it so they wouldn’t fall off as she walked. Lastly she pulled on some of his socks. She wasn’t going to walk around in this get-up with high heels on.
It was far from a fashion statement and she felt ridiculous, but at least she was covered as she headed back for the kitchen.
Kevin took in her outfit but said nothing. He even successfully resisted the smile she was sure was threatening.
“We’ve got some time before dinner. Want something to drink?” he asked.
“Very much.” He had no idea.
As he started the blender she thought about this whole thing. Why was Doug’s friend making her dinner and playing host to her in Doug’s house? When Doug wasn’t even here. “Do you and Doug live together?”
Kevin laughed. “No. It feels like it sometimes. I’m over here a lot. But I have an apartment closer to the hospital.”
“Oh.” She looked around. “So Doug’s not coming?”
“Good grief, no,” Kevin said. “He’d kill me for inviting you over.”
Well, that didn’t sound so great. “So why did you?”
“I think there are some things you should know about him.” Kevin handed her what looked suspiciously like a margarita. Which would make him one of her favorite guys at the moment.
“Things I should know that will make me like him less and not pursue anything beyond Chicago?” she asked, knowing that wasn’t the case. “Because that’s what he wants.” She sipped of the drink and found it was indeed a margarita. A very good margarita.
“I guess that’s something I’d like to find out,” Kevin said, taking a swig of the soda he’d opened for himself. “I’m curious how it makes you feel about him.”
“But he won’t be here?”
“No. He’s over at Katherine’s. She’ll make him stay for dinner anyway and I put a bug in her ear about coming up with something to keep him there longer.”
“Katherine?” One of his sisters maybe? She hoped. Rather than an ex-girlfriend. Or a current girlfriend, for that matter.
Kevin was leaning against the counter, sipping his soda and watching her closely. “Katherine is one of the three older ladies we take care of.”
Morgan leaned against the counter across from Kevin and took a big drink. “What do you mean older?”
Kevin grinned. “She’s seventy-eight.”
Okay. “What do you mean by take care of?”
“It started a few years ago. There were four gals who were good friends and played cards together once a week. We met Katherine when we picked her up in the rig one night and met her friends when they came to see her in the ER. Long story short, we decided they needed someone to look after them.” Kevin smiled. “We all help all the gals out. Sometimes we’ll all be together for dinner or something. But we each have one we’re especially close to. Dooley is Katherine’s favorite.”
She could understand that, Morgan thought. He’d quickly become her favorite too. “What stuff do you help them with? Besides eating their meals?” She smiled. She could imagine the older ladies loving having these guys to feed and fuss over.
“Trust me, eating their meals is a pleasure,” Kevin said with a chuckle. “We do repairs—change light bulbs or bigger things if needed, do the heavy lifting, or yard work, cleaning, things they can’t or shouldn’t be doing for themselves.”
She sipped again. “This isn’t helping me like him less.”
Kevin nodded. “Good.”
“But you said ‘we’ earlier. Are the other guys coming over too? Are you going to ask me my intentions with Doug or something?” she asked.
“Oh, I wouldn’t subject you to everyone just yet,” Kevin said, pushing away from the counter and setting his drink down. “It’s just me and Senior tonight. But yeah, your intentions are of interest to me. To us.”
“Senior?”
Someone cleared their throat and Morgan turned to find an older man, in a wheelchair, sitting in the archway into the kitchen from a room at the back of the house. Kevin crossed to him.
“Douglas Miller, Senior.” Kevin smiled at her. “Dooley’s dad. Senior, this is Morgan.”
Morgan stared at the older man. He smiled at her, but didn’t say a word.
Doug’s
dad
? She was having dinner with Doug’s dad? And best friend? Wow, this
was
an interrogation.
She could handle his full-of-it, rowdy bunch of friends wanting details about their weekend in the hotel. Parents were a whole other level.
“Mr. Miller, it’s a pleasure,” she said, also crossing to where he sat and extending her right hand.
Doug Senior put his left hand under his right forearm and lifted it. It was clear he couldn’t move his right arm, hand or fingers, so Morgan took a hold of his limp hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Thanks for having me over for dinner,” she said.
Still looking at her with a smile, Senior lifted his left hand and moved it over his face.
Kevin chuckled and nodded. “She is beautiful. That shouldn’t surprise you.”
Senior shook his head.
Kevin looked at Morgan. “He had a stroke about eleven years ago. He can’t use his right arm and his right leg is…a challenge.” He glanced at the older man. “Talking is tough too. He can say a few words. Like beer and no.” He grinned at Senior.
“Pizza,” Senior said, with some effort. Then gave her a smile.
Kevin laughed. “Right. The important words.” He looked up at Morgan again. “But he understands everything and can make himself understood. We do some basic sign language but a lot of it is just hand gestures we’ve developed over time.”
Wow. Okay. “You’re here a lot then?”
“Senior lives with Dooley. But obviously he needs another pair of hands once in a while. Besides, Senior and I like the same TV shows. Dooley likes the History Channel and stuff.”
Senior rolled his eyes and Morgan laughed.
“You have two daughters too, right? And some adorable granddaughters,” Morgan said to Doug’s dad.
He grinned widely with a nod.
“The girls help out and so do their husbands,” Kevin offered. “But I’m more flexible. They’ve got the kids and activities and stuff. I’m single so I can come more easily and whenever. And I’m here to watch
Castle
no matter who else is here.”
Senior gave Kevin a high-five and then Kevin gestured to the table. “Okay, we gotta get your first pitch lesson over before dinner’s ready,” he told Morgan. “Take a seat.”
It occurred to her that she could leave. She could have left the moment she realized Doug wasn’t going to be here. She could have left as soon as Kevin answered the door. Definitely before she changed into a T-shirt, boxers and socks.
But she didn’t want to. She was curious.
Morgan surreptitiously watched Doug’s dad maneuver his wheelchair with one hand and foot smoothly and easily around the table into the space where there was no chair. Kevin made no move to get things out of his way or to help so she didn’t either. Obviously if the man had been living with the effects of the stroke for eleven years, he knew what he was doing by now.
So Doug’s dad lived with him and Doug was more than just a roommate. He was a primary caregiver. Plus he took care of Katherine and the other ladies. He’d also told her about the Bradford Youth Center while they were in Chicago.
The man was…amazing.
Kevin set a bottle of beer down for Senior and refilled Morgan’s glass from the blender while Senior dealt cards one-handed.
Kevin explained the general rules of bidding and taking tricks, while Senior jotted the point system down on a scrap of paper for Morgan to refer to as they played a couple of practice hands.
She’d caught on by the time the timer on the oven went off.
“So you have a big job opportunity coming up?” Kevin asked as he got up to get the food.
Morgan took her glass to the sink. “I hope so. It’s still in the air.”
“Dooley said the trip to Chicago went well.”
She shot a glance at Kevin but he was removing the casserole pan from the oven and didn’t seem to be referring to anything other than business. “Yes. I was pleased with how everything went.” She
was
referring to things other than business and she wondered if Kevin would pick it up.
The hot fudge sundae she’d brought with her was still on the counter and she felt warmer just looking at it. She was standing in the middle of the kitchen, getting ready for dinner, dressed in Doug’s ridiculously too-big-for-her clothes with his best friend and dad, and yet her thoughts still went easily and immediately to her last night with Doug in Chicago.
She missed him.
In the middle of his house, wearing his clothes, hanging out with the most important people in his life, she
missed
him. More than his body, more than the orgasms, she missed him, wanted to see him, wanted to talk to him. Even if he didn’t kiss her or touch her. Even if they didn’t end up under the blue comforter together, she wanted to see him.
“Morgan?” Kevin asked, waving a hand in front of her face.
She shook herself and looked over at Doug’s dad. He was watching her with a contemplative look. “Yes, fine.” She could see Doug in his dad’s eyes and chin and forehead. Doug Senior was a handsome man. More, he had a kindness in his eyes that drew her.
Kevin handed her a plate. Two chicken enchiladas and a lettuce salad. Her stomach rumbled and she felt like crying.
So stupid.
But it was there and not easily swallowed or blinked away.
She didn’t know what it was. The food she would have never made for herself, the kitchen table that was worth thirty bucks at a garage sale, the way the T-shirt she wore felt and smelled, or that these men had asked her here to check her out because they loved Doug. Or that they were treating her like an honored guest without even really knowing her.