The Real Mr. Right Page 6

  “That’s okay, thanks.”

  “Just an idea,” he said with a doesn’t-matter-to-me hitch of his shoulders. “Anyway, you’d probably rather talk to your mom—”

  The child’s emphatic head shake both confirmed Matt’s suspicions and told him not to push. Not the time or the place. Or his place, frankly.

  “Well, okay, then.” Matt plucked a paperback novel he was halfway through off the coffee table. “If you need me, I’m right in the living room. Okay?”

  “Sure,” the kid said, pointing the remote at the screen to switch back to cable, clearly not caring one whit whether Matt stayed or went.

  * * *

  Kelly didn’t get back to Maple River until nearly eight, at which point all she wanted to do was fall into bed, any bed, and not wake up for three days. But alas, there were children who needed to be tucked in and cuddled with and, in Coop’s case, reassured, and after all that she was somewhat reenergized. Somewhat being the operative word.

  And hungry, she realized, since she hadn’t eaten since breakfast, despite Lynn’s food-pushing attempts. So when she entered the kitchen and Matt greeted her with a sandwich big enough to feed the Bronx, she almost kissed him. Which only proved how exhausted she was.

  “Kids asleep?” he asked.

  “Finally, yes. Alfie’s in bed with Coop. I hope that’s okay?”

  “You kidding? She’s in heaven. Although fair warning, she snores. And the kid’ll smell like dog in the morning.”

  “He’s smelled worse, believe me.”

  Finally she hauled herself up onto the bar stool, only to then rest her head in her hands for a moment.

  “Praying?” Matt asked.

  “Yes. For the strength to eat this.” Kelly lifted her head to see the sorta smile peeking out from that whiskered face, thinking how strong he looked. And how weak she felt. In more ways than one. She didn’t want hanky-panky—she was far too tired and emotionally drained for hanky-panky—but once again the thought niggled that it might be nice to be held by someone bigger than she was. And blessed with a Y chromosome. “And what’s this?” she asked when he placed a tall glass in front of her.

  “A chocolate shake. With extra protein. Another of my specialties. And yes, you need to drink it—the skeletal look is not good on you.”

  Tears seared her eyes because she was about to keel over and her world was still imploding and she had so much on her plate that stuff was spilling over the sides, and this man had made her a chocolate milk shake. With extra protein.

  “Hey,” Matt said quietly, when she realized she’d made this pathetic little hiccupping sound. She looked up into those lovely brown eyes all soft with concern. And hiccupped again. “It’s okay, the kids are okay, you’re here and we’ve got it covered.”

  “We?”

  “Me. Abby. The dog. So eat. Then take a hot bath and go to bed. How’s that sound?”

  “Like heaven.” Kelly took a deep breath, then bit into the sandwich. And groaned. “Oh, my God—what’s in this?”

  “Whatever I could scrounge up. Beef. Turkey. Bacon. Salad stuff. And some Asian dressing I found in the door, I assume belonging to my sister.”

  “Speaking of heaven...” She pointed to the sandwich. “Dude.”

  Matt grinned. One of those grins that, had she not been so tired, had life not been so insane, had this not been her and Matt...

  Eat your sandwich, chickie.

  “How were the kids?” she said, tilting the shake to her lips.

  “Fine. Baby passed out ten minutes after you left, ate a huge bowl of mac and cheese when she woke up, after which she terrorized the dog until right before you got back.”

  “I’m so sorry—”

  “Forget it, Alf needed the exercise, anyway. You weren’t kidding about my ears, though. Wow. Kid’s got a wicked set of lungs. I’m thinking opera singer.”

  “You’re not the first person to put forth that idea. And Coop?”

  Matt leaned his jeaned butt against the edge of the counter, crossing his arms. “Pretty tight-lipped. Then again, he doesn’t know me from Adam.”

  Her brows knotting, Kelly pinched off a little tongue of bacon taunting her from the edge of the bread, poked it into her mouth. “I know you and Bree were only six when your folks died, but...do you remember at all how it felt?”

  His eyes dimmed. “Some. And I wasn’t exactly chatty, either. So. I assume there’s a funeral?”

  And you’re still not talking about it, are you?

  Kelly took another sip of her shake. “On Friday, yes. The, um, autopsy should be done by then,” she said, knowing the icy feeling in her chest had nothing to do with the shake. “But the consensus is that it really was a heart attack. Probably related to his drinking.”

  “How’s Rick’s mom holding up?”

  Note, he hadn’t asked how she was doing. Not that she really wanted him to. Kindness was one thing—that, she was soaking up like soft butter on hot toast—but pity? Not a fan. Especially since “holding it together by the tips of my ragged fingernails” would have been the answer. But with two kids depending on her, what choice did she have?

  “Keeping herself busy,” she finally answered. “Like my mother did after my dad died. Lynn’s already taken care of the arrangements, everything. It’ll hit, though, I’m sure. And I really should be there for her. After the funeral, I mean. She’s always been a sweetheart, no matter what. I owe her a lot. Except...”

  She dispatched the last bite of the sandwich’s first half, picked up the second. “Since I was in town, anyway, I stopped by our apartment to pick up some more clothes. And the minute I walked in, I realized how much I do not want to stay in Haleysburg. Not because it’s a horrible place or anything, but it’s never been...home. A convenience, a concession, yes. But it never felt right. Especially when Coop started having so much trouble in school—”

  “Trouble? What kind of trouble?”

  “Teasing, mostly. Because of his weight. His glasses. Added to his father’s taunting him...” She half shrugged. “It was bad.”

  “I assume you talked to the principal?”

  “Until I was blue in the face. Nothing happened. Then, last fall, some kid twice Coop’s size shoved him down on the playground, broke his glasses and that was it. I yanked him out of there so fast we left a vapor trail.”

  “Shazam,” Matt said, and Kelly smiled. “So were things better at his new school?”

  “Actually, we’ve been homeschooling.” At Matt’s slight brow dip, she said, “The kid was getting stomachaches every day, Matt. Even with everything else going on, those stopped almost immediately. And after a couple months I realized his weight had started to normalize, too.”

  Kelly picked up the cold glass, gently swirling the melting shake. “Sometimes the best decision isn’t the one that makes the most sense on the surface. Like taking your kid out of school to homeschool him,” she said with a shrug. “And now, well... I didn’t realize how much I’d missed Maple River until Bree called me a couple hours ago.” At Matt’s almost imperceptible flinch, she softly laughed. “Yeah, she told me about the grilling. It’s okay—in your place I would’ve done the same thing.”

  “I didn’t tell her to call you, though.”

  “I know you didn’t. But in any case, I heard her voice, and...” Smiling, she shook her head, then sighed. “I want to move back. Have the kids grow up where I did.”

  “You serious?”

  There was something in his voice, his expression, she couldn’t read. Horror, most likely. After all, it wasn’t as if Maple River had anything special going for it. One small Jersey town was pretty much like any other. And heaven knows Sabrina couldn’t wait to blow the joint. Then again, since the Colonel’s other kids still lived here, how bad could it be?

  �
�Now that things...have changed, there’s really nothing stopping me. The lease is up this month on my catering kitchen, so I’ll have to find a new one, anyway. Apartment prices are a little steeper here than in Haleysburg, but there are a couple possibilities that don’t look too bad. And Lynn’s only a half hour away. So totally doable.”

  Matt kept her gaze on his for a long moment, then removed her empty plate—the same blue-and-white-patterned Corelle Kelly remembered from before. “Abby made cookies after work,” he said, setting the plate in the dishwasher. “Want some?”

  “You think I’m crazy.”

  He turned. “Crazy might be a little strong. Impulsive, maybe? Not that it’s any of my business—”

  “No. It isn’t. Not that I don’t appreciate the concern. No, I really do. But the longer I think about it, the more I realize this has been simmering in the back of my mind for, gosh, I don’t know how long, buried underneath a pile of obligations and responsibilities that kept me paralyzed. And I’m not an idiot, I know this has a lot to do with memories of my childhood. Of my time in this house, with you guys. When I felt happy. And safe. So sue me if I’d like to try to recapture some of that for my babies. To give them a fresh start.” She sat back. “To give myself a fresh start. And why are you smiling?”

  “Because the whole time you were telling me off, all I could think was, damn.”

  “I wasn’t telling you off—”

  “Like hell. And you can stay here as long as you want. Okay?”

  “Oh. I didn’t mean to—”

  “Okay?”

  Kelly almost smiled. “Okay. Thank you.”

  “No problem. Now. You want some cookies or what?”

  “You are so weird.”

  “So I’ve been told. So...?”

  She blew out a breath. “No, thanks. Not much feeling like sweets right now.”

  Matt shook his head, then said, “Coffee, then? Decaf?”

  “That I’ll go for. Where is Abby, by the way?”

  He got the coffee out of the fridge, went about filling the basket. “Now you ask this?”

  “I’m awake now. Anyway. Abby?”

  “She’s out. With a friend. A girl friend,” he said at Kelly’s lifted brow. “She doesn’t date. Says it’s not her thing.” His hands lifted. “I don’t ask.”

  With her fingertip, Kelly swiped a dribble of dressing off the plate, sucking her finger for a moment before saying, “You mind if I ask you something?”

  “About?”

  “Abby said you’re on leave from work? Because you’d accumulated so many vacation days?”

  “Ah.” He got out two mugs, filled them. Set one in front of her with a carton of half-and-half, a divided bowl with sugar on one side, assorted wannabes on the other. Clearly stalling.

  “Hey, if you don’t want to talk about it—”

  “It’s no big deal, despite whatever Abs might’ve told you. It’s just after my divorce, I had a lot of time on my hands. So I worked. A lot. Filled in whenever someone went on vacation, that sort of thing. Eventually my sergeant caught on and put me on leave.” He met her gaze, almost as though daring her to probe further. “Which at least is forcing me to finish up the house.”

  Kelly took a sip of her coffee, opting not to press him about an obviously still painful subject. “Abby mentioned that, too. Close by?”

  “Five blocks east....” Matt frowned down at his coffee for several seconds before his eyes met hers again, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “There’s a basement apartment. Not huge, but three bedrooms and the kitchen’s not total crap—” She laughed, and a grin flashed. “Anyway. You could see it. If you want, it’s up to you. Yard’s big, schools are good I hear. If you decide to go that route, I mean. And Alf would be thrilled to have her own boy. But like I said, it’s up to you, no pressure.”

  Kelly tapped the mug’s rim, considering. “Why?”

  “You need an apartment. I have one.”

  He was such a guy. She smiled. “How much?”

  Matt named his price. Two hundred dollars a month less than she’d been paying in Haleysburg. For three bedrooms and good schools—and yes, they were, she’d already checked, even though she wasn’t sure about putting Coop in another classroom setting right now—and a yard and a bonus dog.

  And Matt, of course. But she was a big girl—for good schools and a yard she could handle Matt. Or rather, not handle Matt.

  “Could we see it tomorrow?”

  “Uh...sure. Why not? And by the way—” he stood up straighter “—I’m coming with you to the funeral. Because, for starters,” he said when her chin dropped, “I can hear my mother telling me to keep an eye on you. Not to mention my dad.”

  So could she, actually, but that was beside the point. “I don’t need—”

  “And for another, that’s what friends do.”

  Those brown eyes captured hers.

  And. Would. Not. Let. Go.

  “Is that what we are? Friends?”

  His shoulders bumped. “Sure.”

  Then she got it. This wasn’t about his mother, or their being friends—which was a stretch, anyway. Really. This was about Matt thinking he had to protect her. Which was sweet and honorable and all that, but...

  Uh, boy.

  “Okay, look—I know I was a mess earlier. After I found out, I mean. But that... It was a momentary reaction. I’m fine now.”

  He crossed his arms. Man speak for not buying it, sister. “You sure?”

  “Yes. I was shocked. Obviously. But—” Kelly shoved a hunk of hair behind her ear “—I really did mourn the death of my marriage. But the thing is, Rick and I... We’d both changed. God knows even five years ago I would have never believed I could fall out of love with my husband. Only, who I’d fallen in love with...that man no longer existed. Okay, I supposed I’d clung to this tiny hope that Rick would find the real Rick again, someone the kids and I could at least respect. But that didn’t happen.”

  She sighed. “And now it’ll never happen, which makes me sad. And I’ll probably always be sad about that to a certain extent, because I had loved him and I certainly never wanted things to end so...hopelessly. So in a way, I am grieving again. For the past, for what might have been. But trust me—I’m not going to fall apart at this funeral.” After a pause, she said, “If I’ve learned nothing else about myself these past two years, it’s that I’m stronger, and smarter, and a helluva lot more resilient than I thought I was. That I can take care of myself. And my children.”

  One hand clamped around the edge of the granite, Matt hooked her gaze in his. “I don’t doubt that for a second. But you’re gonna have your hands full with your kids. Your mother-in-law. So it might not hurt to have someone there for you who isn’t emotionally involved. To run interference, if necessary. Still. Your call. You really don’t want me to come, I won’t.”

  And, oh, she really didn’t. Except now that the turkey had put the idea in her head, she kinda did. Just for backup. Like an angel presence.

  A six-foot-two, beard-hazed, smart-mouthed angel with overachieving biceps. God had outdone Himself with this one.

  “The old ladies will have you for lunch.”

  “Wouldn’t be a Jersey funeral otherwise,” Matt said with a whatcha-gonna-do shrug, and Kelly rolled her eyes.

  * * *

  The house’s main utilities once more in working order, Matt had taken a good, hard look at the basement apartment’s kitchen and thought, This will never do. Never mind that Kelly had been fine with it as it was. Nor was he gonna go all out or anything, especially since the rent he’d quoted was under market value. Well under market value. Which she undoubtedly knew. Smart cookie, that Kelly. But while the kitchen did function, the cabinets were from hunger and the appliances had been old twenty years ago. So what the hell
, a little upgrade couldn’t hurt, right?

  “I cannot believe Kelly McNeil is moving in here,” his youngest brother, Tyler, said as he drilled one of the “new” cabinets into the wall while Matt supported it. White Shaker style, barely two years old, victims of a total gut-job in Princeton. Although at least their previous owner had the decency to put them up for adoption at Ty’s salvage shop, where Matt got them for a song. Ty reached for another screw. “Talk about a blast from the past.”

  “And I can’t believe you remember her.”

  Underneath a mop of streaked blond hair, super-straight teeth flashed in a clean-shaven face. Thirty going on eighteen, that was his brother.

  “You kidding?” Ty pressed a hand to his hoodie-covered chest. “She was my first love.”

  “You were nine, for God’s sake.”

  “And Mozart was how old when he composed his first symphony?”

  Matt groaned, but he had to laugh, too. Ty had been an insolent, foul-mouthed fourth-grader when he’d come to live with the Nobles, a real pain in the butt as far as thirteen-year-old Matt had been concerned. Nor had he understood why on earth his parents adopted the brat a year after that, especially since his mother had her hands full by then with toddler Abby.

  Only later did Matt discover that Ty’s birth mother had been a druggie, that he’d been removed from her care for his own safety. And that CPS had all but begged his parents to foster him, hoping the neglected kid might find comfort and stability in his parents’ orderly household. Which, eventually, he did. And aside from his brother’s inability to sustain a relationship for more than a month, the goofball had turned out okay.

  “So where is Kelly now?” Ty said, interrupting Matt’s thoughts. In a parallelogram of sunlight slashed across the living room floor, a dead-to-the-world Alf released one of her foghorn groans, making Boomer, Ty’s hideously homely boxer/Rottweiler mix, jump to his feet with a very confused look on his droopy face, and Matt smiled.

  “Back in Haleysburg,” he said, “packing. She wants to move in right after the funeral, so we need to hustle. By the way...I found your old Power Rangers bike in Dad’s garage. Looks to be in decent shape, aside from the tires and tubes. I thought I might fix it up, give it to Cooper. If you don’t want it...?”