The Real Mr. Right Page 4

  “It’s been a while. But I’m still in touch with Sabrina. Sort of.”

  “Who doesn’t live here. Which I assume you know.”

  Kelly blew out a breath, then refilled her coffee mug. Obviously Matt’s text hadn’t been elucidating. “Just needed a break, that’s all.”

  “From?”

  Her shoulders bumped. “Life,” she said, and Abby’s eyes narrowed. Exactly like Matt’s—a thought that brought on a brief, though piquant, shudder—even though they weren’t related by blood. Except then, with a shrug, Abby slanted forward again to resume eating.

  “Hey, I don’t know you, got no reason to get up in your business.” She swallowed, then shrugged. “Matt’s another story, though, being a cop and all. Although I’m not sure how beholden to the badge he is at the moment, since he’s on leave.”

  Kelly frowned. “On leave?”

  “Yeah. It’s not exactly a secret, I’m surprised he didn’t say anything. Something about accumulated vacation time? Since he apparently worked some ridiculous hours after his divorce. Wait—did you know—?”

  “Yes. Sabrina told me.”

  Abby nodded. “None of us liked Marcia very much. She was way too la-di-da for this family, that was for sure. But when things fell apart, so did Matt. Not in a dramatic way, I don’t mean that—this is Matt we’re talking about. But he kinda went all pod-person on us. Looked like Matt, sounded like Matt, but the real Matt wasn’t home.” She chuckled. “At work, yeah. But not at home. Anyway...if he didn’t take his days, he was going to lose them. Or so he said. So he’s around a lot, working on his house, bugging me. Big brothers are hell. You got any?”

  Wow. Nothing like a little caffeine and carbs to ignite the jabberfest. “No, I’m an only child.”

  “Count your blessings. So were you and Matt close? When you were kids?”

  “Not really, no.” Even if not by Kelly’s choice. A nugget of personal info she’d keep to herself. “He did his own thing, Sabrina and I did ours.”

  “Yeah, I can see that. Still, you should see Matt’s place while you’re here. He’s put in some reclaimed stuff from the shop—the mantel is the bomb, from some nineteenth-century farmhouse.”

  Nope, not even penciling in that little field trip. Because, you know. Frying pans, fire, yada, yada.

  Then two yawning children wandered into the kitchen, seeking hugs and nourishment. This I can do, Kelly thought as she set their filled bowls on the island and heaved her wild-haired daughter up onto a stool. And Abby immediately sucked Coop into a conversation, exactly as Jeanne would have done, and the ache in Kelly’s chest eased a little more.

  Because, for the moment, it was good to be back. To feel safe again.

  Only then she thought of Matt. His eyes. His smile. His...everything. But especially his I-got-this attitude.

  And that feeling-safe thing?

  Gone.

  Chapter Three

  The instant Matt climbed out of his Explorer in the open-air lot near the Lincoln Tunnel, his face froze in the brutally cold wind. Between that and the five thousand bodies per square foot now swarming around him at roughly the speed of light, he remembered why he’d rather ice-skate naked than come into Manhattan. The crowds, the dirt, the noise... He flinched as a fire engine edging through the taxi-clogged street blasted its horn—so not him. And never would be.

  Except since this was where his twin sister lived, this was where he needed to be. Because nobody understood how his brain worked better than Sabrina. Sure, they talked on the phone and texted, but their connection was strongest when they actually shared breathing space.

  Made sense, he supposed, considering how, as suddenly orphaned six-year-olds, it’d been them against the world. Naturally Matt had felt honor bound to protect his sister, even though he later realized how much his scrappy little twin had protected him, too. And they were still there for each other, no matter what.

  Bowed against the biting wind, he walked the few blocks to the Ninth Avenue diner where Sabrina had suggested they meet, one of those glaringly lit, grease-scented joints where the glasses were plastic, the plates weighed more than some of the patrons and fries came with, end of discussion.

  Sabrina had snagged a booth near the back, looking like a slumming A-lister. Didn’t act like one, though, squealing and bouncing up to throw her skinny, designer-clad arms around Matt.

  “Sit, I already ordered for you,” she said, immediately reverting to Jersey speak. “You look good. Worried, but good.” Surrounded by a forest of artfully messy dark hair, equally dark, guilt-ridden eyes bored into his. “Damn. It’s been too long, Matty.”

  “Hey. You’re the one who spent the holidays out in Oyster Bay with your hotsy-totsy boyfriend.”

  “I know,” she said with a mock pout. Which immediately turned into a huge grin...a moment before she thrust out her left hand, on which glittered a multistoned diamond ring that redefined bling.

  “Well, look at that,” Matt said, forcing his lips into a smile as a dozen conversations and clattering silverware and a ringing phone blurred around him. How could his sister marry someone he’d never even met? Still, he managed to say, “Congratulations,” then stood and leaned over the table to kiss her cheek. “Lucky guy.”

  “Yes, he is,” Bree said with an uncharacteristic giggle.

  Just kill him now. “So when’s the wedding?”

  Their food arrived. Burgers and fries. Uninspired but comforting. “Not for at least a year. Plenty of time for you to get used to the idea.” A grin flashed. “And Chad. Anyway...what’s up? It must be something big to get you into the city.”

  Matt hoisted his hamburger off the plate, took a bite. His arteries were probably recoiling in terror, but his mouth was doing a happy dance. “When was the last time you talked to Kelly?”

  Frowning, Sabrina grabbed her napkin to swipe dripping hamburger juice off her chin. “As in Kelly McNeil? I mean, Harrison, whatever.”

  “You know more than one?”

  “No, but...” She put down the burger, wiped her hands, picked it up again. “Actually talked? Gosh... Ages ago. Since before she had her second kid. Why?”

  “What’s your take on her ex?”

  Frowning, Sabrina swallowed, took a pull of her diet soda. “Okay, Matty? You can quit the whole detective shtick right now. What’s going on?”

  His sister was many things, but a faker wasn’t one of them. Obviously she didn’t know. “She and the kids are at the house.”

  Brows shot up. “You mean our house? Why? And why did I not know this?”

  “Yeah, I’m getting to that, and she indicated you two had kind of drifted apart. Not to mention you changed your number.”

  “Crap, right. On both counts,” she said with a disgusted-at-herself look, then squinted. “And you think Rick has something to do with her showing up?”

  “Think, hell.” His jaw tightened. “I know.”

  Sabrina’s gaze sharpened. “And the man still has all his teeth?”

  “What—?”

  “Oh, come on, Matty—it’s not like nobody knew how you felt about her back in the day. Although I couldn’t figure out why you never acted on it—”

  “Why I never acted on it?” His sister smiled, and he realized he’d walked right into her trap. “So maybe I felt something for her. Since she didn’t exactly give me any encouragement, I didn’t pursue it.”

  “Idiot.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You really never noticed how Kelly clammed up whenever you came into the room?”

  “Sure I noticed. Figured that was her way of telling me not to bother—”

  “You can’t be serious! She was crazy for you! But you’d waltz in, all swagger and strut like the world was yours, and she’d think, ‘What chance would I have
with him?’”

  “She actually told you that?”

  Bree made the Scout’s honor sign.

  Matt gaped at his sister for several seconds before he found his voice. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  “Because, for one thing, you did act like you were all that back then. I’m not even sure I liked you very much, to be truthful. So I sure as hell wasn’t inclined to fix you up with my best friend. Even if you did have a thing for her.” She jabbed a fry in his direction. “Which I’m guessing you still do. Since you’re here and all.”

  “I’m here because Kelly is about to violate her custody agreement, if she hasn’t already, and I figured if anyone could shed some light on why she’s doing that, it’d be you.”

  Sabrina finished her burger, then wiped her fingers on her already crumpled napkin. “You don’t believe whatever she’s told you?”

  His gut twisted. “I don’t know her, Bree. You do. Or did, anyway.”

  “And if I put your mind at ease? Then will you go smack him around?”

  Matt almost smiled. “It’s not like I can go vigilante on the guy’s ass. Since, oddly enough, I would like to have a job to go back to. And—” he leaned forward “—this is strictly between us, okay? Even if her story pans out, I’m still really pushing it by letting her stay at the house.”

  “Jeez, you make it sound like she offed the guy.” Her brow furrowed. “Do we know that she didn’t?” she said, and Matt smiled again. They’d both thought the same thing.

  “I heard her talking to him this morning, so yeah. He’s still alive.”

  “He said, gritting his teeth.”

  Matt glowered at his sister. Who, of course, laughed at him. “Bree...get real. What I felt—that was a long time ago, when none of us had a clue about, well, anything really. And after Marcia... Hell, I don’t want to even look at that horse, let alone get back up on it.” And his sister didn’t know the half of it. Neither did anyone else. “And no,” he said to Bree’s lifted brows, “I’m not calling Marcia a horse. Anyway, I’m not entirely sure what’s going on, I didn’t hear much of the conversation, but last night Kelly seemed pretty convinced that Rick might hurt the children.”

  “Holy crap—are you serious?”

  “She certainly is. And if what she’s telling me is legit...” He sighed. “You know how I feel about this stuff. I’m not gonna let anything happen to her or the kids, if I can help it. But you can see my dilemma.”

  “Yeah,” Bree sighed out, then caught their waitress’s eye and ordered a piece of cherry pie. “Okay,” she said after the pie arrived, “for what it’s worth, I only met Rick twice, and once was at their wedding when he was on his best behavior. Although even then, alarms went off. The second time was right after Cooper was born. Which is when I decided my initial suspicions had been dead-on.”

  “Meaning?”

  “He was—is?—full of himself, for one thing. Controlling as hell, for another. Not that I dared say anything, Kelly was clearly head over heels with the guy. And obviously okay with letting him rule the roost.”

  Bree speared a hunk of the pie, pointed it at him. “What I said earlier? About how you intimidated her when we were kids? That wasn’t only because you were being a butt, but because Kelly wasn’t exactly the most secure chica in Jersey. Her parents... I swear, she couldn’t go pee without their permission. Frankly, I think the only reason they let her come over was because they figured—rightly—there’d be no funny stuff with Dad around.”

  She finally pushed the bite into her mouth. “Anyway...even if watching Rick and Kelly together gave me the willies, I figured as long as Kell was happy, what business was it of mine? But then Rick lost his job, and, well... I worried then how that would impact their—” she pressed her lips together for a moment “—balance. Because I got the feeling, even from reading between the lines when she wrote, that she finally started to find her footing the same time he lost his. And that he didn’t take it well.”

  “Score one for you,” Matt said, and Bree made a tick mark in the air. “Kelly ever say Rick...hurt her?”

  “Physically? No. But I could definitely tell Kelly wasn’t happy. So, frankly, I was relieved when she admitted she’d asked for a divorce. I also know how much it must have wrecked her.”

  “So she said. She also indicated things got worse with Rick after that.”

  Bree sighed. “That would not surprise me. But here’s the thing about Kelly. Two things, actually. One, she’s fiercely loyal. Even in school she was never fickle with her friendships, like so many other girls were. Which was why it was so hard for her to split from Rick. And why, maybe, she might not be telling you, or even being totally honest with herself, about how bad things were between them. I mean, who knows, right? But she’s also law-abiding to a fault—no going over the speed limit, no crossing against the light. Made me nuts when we were younger, until I realized that, for her, obedience equated security.” She twisted to dig her phone out of her purse beside her on the seat. “So if she is violating that agreement, she must have a really good reason. Honey, believe me—you’re never gonna find anyone more trustworthy, I swear.” Glancing over as she rummaged, she said, “That help?”

  “Yes. And no.”

  “I know, sweetie,” Bree said gently, reaching over to squeeze Matt’s wrist before, her phone retrieved, she flicked her hair over her shoulder, then scrolled through her contacts. “Did she give you her cell number?”

  “Yeah,” he said, pulling out his own phone and reading it off.

  “That’s the one I have. I’ll call her tonight. But you be sure she has my number, too.” Then she stood and dropped her phone back in her purse. “And unfortunately, I’ve got an appointment downtown in twenty minutes—”

  Matt grabbed the check. “You go, I’ve got it.”

  “You sure?”

  “For God’s sake, Bree—”

  Laughing, she hugged him, then scooted through the lunchtime crowd, leaving him with that bittersweet feeling he got every time they parted that she didn’t need him anymore. Hadn’t, actually, in a very long time.

  Outside the wind had died down, giving the feeble winter sunshine half a shot at warming the poor slobs hustling through the concrete canyons. Hands plowed into the pockets of his Giants jacket, Matt slowed his pace, half-heartedly glancing in store windows as he meandered back to his car. Normally he’d be champing at the bit to blow this town, get back home. Except currently that meant returning to something he was less sure how to handle now than he had been this morning.

  And it was driving him crazy that he wasn’t becoming more sure-footed as he got older.

  His entire adult life, he’d relied on his instincts to guide him. On the traits that made him who he was, that had propelled him into law enforcement without a second thought. Traits he’d assumed would make him a good husband. A good man. For someone who’d only ever wanted to do the right thing—at least, once out of the clutches of adolescence—it had come as a shock to discover that not everyone defined right, or even good, the same way.

  Like, say, his ex-wife.

  Oh, in theory he understood why his marriage fell apart. God knows Marcia had told him often enough, and plainly enough, that his breathing down her neck with wanting to take care of her made her crazy. But Matt’s only motive had been to make sure she was safe, that her brakes were good and her tires inflated, that she locked all the doors when he had to work late, that she didn’t take unnecessary risks when she was out late.

  Just like his father had done for his mother. Who, as far as Matt could tell, had never had an issue with being taken care of. Watched out for. A good example, he’d thought. Only, according to his ex, his attitude was out-of-date, paternalistic and condescending.

  He still didn’t get that.

  Speaking of his dad, who needed to kno
w he had a houseguest... Matt pulled his phone out of his inside pocket, took a breath and dialed.

  “Matt!” his father boomed in his ear. “What’s up?”

  Even at nearly seventy, Preston Noble still sounded like a man half his age. But with an aura of omniscience—not to mention omnipotence—that had kept all of them in line as kids. And his father still commanded both deference and respect, Matt thought on a wry smile. He loved his old man, was more grateful than he could say that he and Jeanne had taken Sabrina and him into their home, their hearts. But it wasn’t always easy living up to the Colonel’s expectations. Or sometimes even knowing what those expectations were.

  Along with a dozen fellow pedestrians, he stopped at a side street to let a line of honking cars wade through the bumpy intersection. “How’s Uncle Phil and Aunt Vickie?”

  “Fine. And something tells me you didn’t call to ask about them.”

  A thousand miles away and he still didn’t miss a trick. “Okay, I’m not.” He squinted into the traffic. “You remember Kelly McNeil?”

  “Considering she basically lived at our house for ten years? Of course.” A truck driver blasted his horn at some woman on her phone who’d darted out in front of him. “Where are you?”

  “In the city,” Matt shouted over the din. “Came in to see Bree. Anyway... Kelly. She’s at the house. With her kids.”

  “She is? How come?”

  The light changed. Matt fell in step with the herd surging across the street, filling in his dad as he walked. When he finished, his father released a breath.

  “And you’re going to help her.”

  An order, not a question. Now it was Matt’s turn to sigh, his breath frosting around his mouth. “Not sure what I can do—”