Not So New in Town (18 page)

“Back up there, Bro,” she whispered furiously, yanking her hand away. “What the…where…how long…” Furious, her mind wouldn’t allow her mouth to speak coherently.

“Let’s go. I’ll explain in the car. We don’t want to be late for the scrimmage,” he said, ushering her down the hall and out of the house.

Fuming, Lucy crossed her arms in the car, hating that Brogan had been in Julia’s room. Wild scenarios ran rampant through her mind, all of them ending with Brogan cradling Julia in his arms while they cooed their undying love for each other. Bleh. The beef burrito from Taco Bell she’d eaten for lunch sat like a rock in her stomach.

“You going to talk to me or sit there and pout?” he had the nerve to ask as he drove down her street toward the high school. She shot him one of Julia’s bitchy glare-downs (a weak imitation at best).

“Aw, come on, Little Lucy.” He unknotted her arms and threaded his fingers through her hand. “Now I can see you better, and I have to say…you’re a knockout.” And with that, her heart skipped several beats, and her hand tingled in his.

“You clean up nice too.” She admired his pressed lavender-and-white pin-stripe dress shirt tucked into creased navy slacks with tan leather belt. He squeezed her hand, distracting her with his crooked smile. “Why were you in Julia’s room just now?” She wanted to sound like the best bodyguard and sister nurse possible, because Julia’s welfare was her utmost concern. (Hey, which it was!) But she also couldn’t disguise the leaky jealous tone.

He shrugged, pushing his aviator sunglasses up his nose. “I brought some flowers to cheer her up, and we discussed the listing on my house.” More flowers…sheesh. Sounded innocent. So why did Lucy feel like a chump?

“What about us? Did you tell her about our…er, date?”

Brogan kept his eyes glued to the road. “Um, no. Didn’t want to upset her.”

Of course not. Neither had Lucy. But substitute girlfriend still had an unpleasant ring. “Julia knows we’re watching Parker’s scrimmage, and I told her we were working afterward,” he said.
Working.
So, that’s what we’re calling it these days.
Hmmm
.

“You ready for some football?” He turned into the high school parking lot.

“Sure.” And dinner, along with a side of Brogan.
Think
of
anything
else, like Fiona wearing her stupid purple tutu.

“We are going out to dinner, aren’t we?” Lucy gave the beach towel and small cooler inside Brogan’s open trunk a dubious look.

“Absolutely. This is only to tide us over.” Holding the cooler, he tucked the towel under his arm and placed his hand on the small of her back. He led her across the parking lot and around the track to the metal bleachers. Brogan held her steady as she climbed halfway up in her new favorite heels. Lucy sat on the towel he’d spread and glanced around at the other parents. Some watched the warm-up, but most of them watched the famous couple with avid curiosity.

“Hey, Lucy and Brogan!”

“Saw your pictures, dancing at Rock ’n’ Bowl.”

“You two set a date?”

Lucy’s cheeks caught fire, and her mouth dried up.

Brogan waved. “No wedding yet. Let’s see how our first date goes.” He settled next to Lucy, ducking his head.

“Don’t you break her heart, Brogan Reese.”

Lucy groaned and dug her elbow into Brogan’s side as he shook with laughter. “Stop it. You’re only making it worse,” she hissed under her breath.

“Maybe if we don’t make any more eye contact, they’ll forget we’re here.” Brogan opened the cooler and handed her a clear container with cheese, crackers, cut-up fresh fruit, and stuffed olives. He twisted the top off two light raspberry beers. “Cheers. To first dates.” His green eyes twinkled as he tapped the neck of her beer.

“Mmm, that’s good.” A hint of raspberry fizzled on her tongue. “Should we be drinking alcohol on school property?” Lucy whispered from the corner of her mouth, glancing to see if any wacky Harmony residents noticed.

“Probably not. But we’re toasting our first date…they’ll cut us some slack. Unless you get falling-down drunk.” His grin was wicked. “Not that I’d mind, but Miss Sue’s probably lurking, documenting—”

“Takes more than one flavored beer to get me drunk.”

“Good. Now we’re getting somewhere.”

“What do you mean?” She popped a green grape in her mouth.

“Getting to know you. I have a list of questions.” He patted the pocket over his left breast.

Lucy’s brow furrowed. “Is this like speed dating…you ask ten questions, and then we jump in the sack together?”

“Of course not. Unless you like that idea, and then I’m all for it. Especially the part about jumping in the sack,” he whispered close to her ear, frying the remainder of her brain cells.

A loud cheer broke out on the field, catching their attention. “Look, there’s Parker.” Lucy waved. “Hey, Parks. Have fun!” Parker held his helmet against his hip and seemed surprised to see her. He stood rooted in his tracks until one of his teammates shoved him toward the bench.

Brogan stood and clapped. “Let’s go, boys! Hustle!” Players rushed on the field and started to line up. Parker stood with his foot on the bench and his helmet on his knee when a coach motioned him forward. Scrambling, he shoved his helmet on his head, stopped to listen to his coach, and then trotted out to the field.

“All right. Good job.” Brogan clapped. Lucy sipped her beer and nibbled on cheese as Brogan stood with his arms crossed. He mumbled as if coaching Parker in his head. Glancing down, he asked, “You doing okay?”

“I’m great.” She stood and patted him on the back. “Know what would be awesome?”

“Hmm? That’s it! Drop back in the pocket!” he yelled at the field, clapping loudly. “Did you see Parker’s pass?” Pride filled his voice, but his eyes never wavered from the game. The connection between Parker and Brogan, from bleachers to field, was almost tangible. Lucy’s heart skipped in a happy way. This was exactly what Parker needed. A man helping and cheering him on.

“See those guys down there?” She pointed to a group of young dads hanging outside the low chain-link fence, fixated on the game. “Why don’t you join them? I’ll be fine,” she said to his startled face.

“You sure?”

She nodded. “Go. You can coach better from down there.” She’d barely finished speaking when a feather-like peck brushed her lips and Brogan bolted down the bleachers. Bursting with pride, Lucy watched him jog to where the men stood. Brogan shook hands with the group of dads before planting his legs shoulder-width apart and folding his arms, concentrating on the game. If he’d had a team cap, clipboard, and whistle, he could’ve been on the field, barking orders.

Lucy tipped the beer to her lips and glanced at the container of healthy snacks. What a nice guy. So thoughtful. Sighing, if only he’d packed Little Debbies…she’d be in heaven. Brogan may not know it yet, but he was turning into a darn good surrogate dad.

At seven, Parker filed off the field, dirty, tired, but excited that Brogan had shown up. Brogan couldn’t stop the grin splitting his face as he congratulated Parker and the other boys. Parker introduced Brogan to his friends, with a ring of pride in his voice, and Brogan’s gut clenched in a tight ball. Maybe all those workouts and small talks had actually made a difference. He couldn’t be certain, but his pride overflowed watching Parker play during the scrimmage. He’d shown poise under pressure, glancing in Brogan’s direction every now and then, checking to see if he was watching. Brogan remembered playing on this exact field, always hoping his own dad would be somewhere in the stands, cheering. After the third game his senior year, Brogan had stopped hoping and never looked for his dad in the crowd again.

“Congratulations, Parker. You were awesome,” Lucy said, walking in their direction.
Jesus.
He’d left Lucy the entire game sitting by herself. What a crappy date. He deserved whatever shit she chose to throw at him. Shame burned his face, but Lucy winked and shook her head to indicate she was good.

“Aunt Lucy, can I sleep over at Jason’s house? His dad said it was okay.”

“Why don’t you text your mom and ask her.”

“Hey, Lucy, I’m Tom Martin, Jason’s dad.” Brogan had already met him with the other dads. He’d been two years ahead of Brogan in high school. Lucy shook his hand, and Tom continued to talk. “We’d love to have Parker spend the night, and I’ll make sure the boys get to practice in the morning.”

“Oh, okay,” Lucy said. Brogan almost laughed out loud as her face broadcasted relief at not having to wake up early.

“I texted Mom. She said it was okay.” Parker looked up from his cell phone.

“Let Aunt Lucy check your phone, bud.” Brogan clapped him on the shoulder. For once, Parker didn’t tense and pull on his sullen mask as he handed over his phone.

“Jason, you played some real good defense out there tonight,” Brogan said to a stocky Jason Martin, who stood next to his dad.

“Son, Brogan Reese played quarterback for Harmony.” Tom pointed at Brogan. “I remember coming home from college to watch him play. He had a strong arm and one of the quickest releases in the state. One time I saw him get sacked behind the line of scrimmage, but he still released the ball and nailed his receiver before hitting the ground. You remember that play, Brogan?”

Brogan chuckled. “Yeah, my ribs are still recovering.” Lucy’s eyes widened at the embarrassment coloring his face.

“A bunch of the boys and dads are getting together to play touch football tomorrow before the lake party. Can you join us?”

He hesitated. A stack of papers two feet high waited for him on his desk. He should be preparing for New York. But when a huge grin cracked wide on Parker’s dirty face, he hated to disappoint.

“That’d be awesome. Can you? Please?” Parker’s blue eyes shone bright with excitement.

Little Lucy gave Brogan a reassuring pat on the back. “If I recall, your schedule’s all clear tomorrow. Why don’t you take the afternoon off and have some fun?”

“The dads could use a good quarterback,” Tom added.

What the hell. Playing mindless touch football might be the ticket. “Sounds great. I’ll be here.”

“Awww-right!” Parker and Jason jumped and chest-bumped in the air.

“See you tomorrow at five. Looking forward to it.” Tom shook Brogan’s hand. “Nice to meet you, Lucy. Come on, boys. Let’s get you both cleaned and fed.” Tom waved as he herded the excited boys toward the parking lot.

“Bye, boys. Parker, I’ll pick you up after practice,” Lucy called to their backs. Parker nodded and waved.

“Hey, Parker, is that your dad?” They both heard Jason ask.

Jesus.
Brogan held back a groan, feeling Lucy tense at his side.

“Nah, he’s my uncle,” Parker said without missing a beat.

* * *

Brogan gathered up the cooler and towel. “Come on. Let’s get out of here,” he said to a shocked Lucy.

“Did you hear what Parker said?” she whispered as he threw the cooler in the trunk. “Do you think he thinks we…um, we’re…the two of us…?”

Brogan opened her door. “Look, the way I see it, anything’s an improvement. I’ll take uncle over dad any day.”

Lucy stopped moving and stared at him. Brogan didn’t want to think about Parker and the ramifications of what he’d revealed. He didn’t want to think about his deadbeat dad or football or New York. He wanted to
be
with Lucy. More precisely, in bed. But he’d promised her a date, and he’d promised to get to know her, and dammit, he was going to do that or die trying.

“But you’d make such a great dad. Don’t you want children?”

No. Yes. He didn’t know. Not now. “Not tonight.” He pecked Lucy on the lips, because he couldn’t resist. “Hop in. I’m starved.”

“You and Parker. Always hungry. If I didn’t know the truth, I’d think you’re related,” she mumbled as she slid into her seat.

Brogan started to pull out when both their phones signaled text messages.

Grabbing his phone, he exploded. “What the fuh…” He wanted to bang his head against a brick wall. This couldn’t be happening.

“I don’t understand,” she said, reading her text. “Did you get Margo’s text about the problem tonight?”

“Yeah, there’s been a mix-up. The Happy Hookers were on the schedule for tonight, but apparently the Bookworms and Historical Society showed up too.” Guilt ate at him. He should be helping Margo and Javier, but he’d promised Lucy a date and she’d gone to a lot of trouble. Dressing up. Applying makeup. Looking sexy as all hell.

“I’ll call Javier and see what he thinks. Maybe he can rearrange and—”

Lucy grabbed his wrist. “Stop. No one is going home unhappy. Not on my watch. Let’s go.”

“Where?”

“To BetterBites. This could be your biggest night ever. Let’s not lose our momentum.” Determination and dedication combined crossed her face as her gray eyes sparked beneath her thick lashes.

“You sure? I promised you a nice dinner.”

“You own a grocery store. There’s got to be something in there I can eat.” Lucy waved her hand. “What are you waiting for? Hit it.”

Brogan cupped her flushed cheeks and gave her a hard kiss. “Have I told you that I love you?” he said to her stunned face. He put the car in gear and stepped on the gas.

* * *

He loved her.
Stop
it.
He wasn’t serious, you lo mein noodle brain.
He was merely expressing his gratitude with a toe-curling kiss and a meaningless declaration of love. It meant nothing…to him. It meant everything to her.

The minute she walked through the back door, Margo hit her with an apron and handed over a batch of muffins to break up for sampling. Margo sent Brogan to the front of the house, holding a basket of three different types of breads, along with the tapas spreads being featured.

“Work it, big guy. Don’t come back until all that bread is gone and your shirt has been ripped to shreds. Them some hungry cougars.” Brogan crammed a piece of bread in Margo’s mouth and told her to shove it.

An hour later, Lucy finished mixing batter, when Margo handed her a cold beer.

“Sorry about tonight. If I’d known Lover Boy had asked you out, I would’ve never bothered either of you.” She kneaded the dough with her flour-covered knuckles.

Lucy coughed. “Don’t be sorry. The success of BetterBites is more important than some silly date.”

Margo stopped kneading. “Silly date? He’s been nothing but a disaster on two legs these last couple of days. Every time your name comes up, he walks into walls.”

“Thanks, but methinks you exaggerate,” Lucy said in a funny accent.

Margo snorted. “Think what you want. But that boy has got it bad. I can spot a lovesick dog when I see one.”

Love.
Not that word.
Lust
maybe or
like
. They were definitely
in
like
, but everyone needed to stop dropping the love-bomb. Lucy had witnessed Brogan in love. She’d watched him drool over Julia for two years. Wanting inside Lucy’s pants had nothing to do with love and everything to do with libido. Not that she blamed him.
Blippity
blip
…she wanted the same thing. They both had this drugging need to do the crazy mattress mambo. Once they’d gotten it out of their systems, the urge would disappear, and they’d move on with their respective careers and lives. Untying her apron, Lucy straightened her dress and gave Margo a quick wave as she pushed through the door to the front of the house, where the party raged at warp speed.

Standing behind the bin of homemade pita chips, she watched Brogan and Javier work the crowd. Lucy covered her mouth in shock as old Miz Cornwaddle patted Brogan on the butt. He laughed, skirting away from her gnarled hand, and then stopped, his attention riveted on Lucy.

She sucked in a sharp breath. Her straight, ironed hair almost curled at the hot, sizzling look directed at her. A look that had nothing to do with healthy granola, old ladies crocheting doilies, or organic foods, but everything to do with wet, long kisses, heavy panting, and tearing at each other’s clothes.

“Get a room, you two,” Miz Cornwaddle said with a loud snort. A knowing smile tipped Brogan’s lips as he winked at Lucy.

Around ten, the partiers had dwindled, and Brogan gripped Lucy’s elbow as she tossed dirty plates and cups in the garbage. “Come on. Stop cleaning. You hungry?”

Lucy’s stomach answered with a loud growl. “Maybe a little.”

“Yeah, I’m starved too.” Brogan brushed a tendril of hair behind her ear. “Let me make it up to you.”

Their gazes met, and Lucy’s head spun like a pinwheel. Yep. It had to be hunger. How else could she explain the shortness of breath, the hammering heart, and the urge to rip his clothes off with her teeth?

She cleared her throat. “Did you sneak out and buy me a bucket of KFC with mashed potatoes and gravy?”

“I’ve got something better in mind, my little garbage-eating rat.” He draped his arm over her shoulder and squeezed her tight into his side. She breathed in his perfect smell of clean soap and exotic coffee. He’d worked twice as hard as she had and still managed to look crisp and fresh. At some point her makeup had melted from her face. And poor Wanda’s dress would need a trip to the dry cleaners, due to a very Happy Hooker spilling a Prosecco cocktail down the back.

“You guys saved the night,” Javier said, adding up the register receipts. “This was by far our most successful event to date.”

“Great. I knew it,” Lucy said. “What are the numbers? I took lots of pictures to post and orders for two more parties.”

“Get her out of here,” Margo said, handing Brogan a big shopper filled with food. “I’m getting a massive headache.”

“Wait…I need to make notes and—”

“Good night, Luce, night, Bro. Thanks again for all your help,” Javier called as Brogan tugged her toward the back door.

“Come along, my little marketing maniac. It’s been a long night.”

Eight minutes later, Brogan pulled into his driveway and killed the engine. “What are we doing here?” Her nerves jumped into hyper mode. The light from the outdoor sconces bathed the porch and front walk. Stacks of lumber sat on his front yard, along with construction ladders and buckets of paint.

“The kitchen is almost finished, and the screened porch has comfortable seating. Since it’s not too hot, I thought we’d eat out there.”

“Oh. Eating. Right. We’re eating food…food from the store.”

Brogan lifted the shopper from the back and escorted her to the front door. “For starters. But I could think of other things besides food I’d like to eat right now.” His voice held all kinds of sexual promise.
Holy
marshmallows between two graham crackers!
So could Lucy, but she’d be wise to squelch the naughty, delectable thoughts marauding her mind, and stick to plain chicken and cornbread on paper plates.

He led her through a maze of boxes in the front entrance, housing new plumbing fixtures. She followed him to the newly renovated great room with its beautiful stacked stone fireplace and old repurposed beams on the pitched ceiling. Lucy’s feet skidded to a halt on the freshly stained pine floors to soak it all in.

“This is beautiful.” Her gaze wandered from the custom wainscoting on the plastered walls to the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the wooded lot. “Was this all your idea?” She turned in a wide circle.

“Some. But really, Bertie had the vision, and she’s making it happen. This whole neighborhood is getting a facelift. Lots of new and renovated homes. By making these changes, I can ask a much higher price.” His hand pressed the small of her back as he ushered her from the great room to the connecting kitchen.

“Killer. I love the combination of paint and stain.” She pointed to the soft gray upper cabinets and stained ebony lower cabinets.

“Still waiting for the soapstone countertops, new appliances, and backsplash. But for now, this makeshift kitchen will do.” He placed the shopper on top of plywood acting as a countertop. “The bathroom is down the hall, if you’d like to freshen up.”

“Great.” Lucy looked down at Wanda’s stained dress and sighed. “Could I borrow a T-shirt and some shorts?”

Brogan’s throat worked. “Uh, sure. Follow me.” He guided her to the updated guest bathroom. “Use this one. The master is still under construction. Be back in a sec.” Lucy rubbed her palm across the smooth white marble vanity top as she admired the bronze fixtures and the large tiled shower with clear glass doors.

“Here you go.” He returned with a soft Georgetown T-shirt and pair of navy nylon jogging shorts. “Make yourself at home. Towels are clean.” He gestured to the shower. “Soap, shampoo…whatever you need.”

She nodded. “Thanks. I’ll be fast.” She closed the door on his handsome face, which sported a lopsided grin, and rested her forehead against the painted wood.
Stop
thinking
about
pulling
him
inside
this
luxurious
bathroom
and
terrorizing
his
drop-dead body with soap lather and hot water.