Terms of Surrender Page 7
Frances held her hands out toward the girls. “Why don’t we go look at the pretty flowers, girls?”
They instantly released their grips on Gage’s legs and, landing on their feet, each took hold of their grandma’s hands. Skipping beside her, they ambled off into the yard.
Gage grinned. “Cute kids.”
With a creak of his knees, his dad straightened. “You should hire someone to take care of your yard. Your mother has work to do at home. She doesn’t need to be working here, too.”
The grin on Gage’s face faded. “She can go home any time she wants, Dad. So can you.”
His dad was no longer paying attention to him.
“Those girls will make a mess of things, mark my words.” William followed his wife into the yard. “Don’t let them touch the flowers, Fran.”
As Gage headed toward his brother, he kept one eye on his dad. The old man wasn’t good with kids and didn’t have the necessary patience for them. He wasn’t good with his wife either, but that was another issue entirely.
Mike threw himself onto one of the patio chairs. “I’m ready to lock them in the cellar.”
The serious tone in his brother’s voice caught Gage off guard. “That’s kind of extreme, isn’t it?”
“If you came out to visit once in a while, you’d understand.”
“You know why I can’t,” Gage said quietly. He studied the downcast expression on his brother’s face. After a moment’s silence, he asked, “How are you doing?”
“Fine. Terrific. Hunky dory.”
Gage could see the other man wasn’t fine or terrific or hunky dory. Since Hannah’s death, his brother had not only lost weight, he seemed to have lost himself, too.
A sound on the deck drew his attention. He glanced toward the back door and saw Harley come out of the house, a tray of iced drinks in her hands.
Mike pulled sunglasses out of his shirt pocket, slid them on, and didn’t bother to lower his voice. “Bro, if I’d known she was here, I would’ve stayed away. Seeing her is…hard.”
She stopped, her gaze shifting to Mike, tears glistening in her big brown eyes.
Without tempering his voice, Mike continued.
“Next time she’s here, warn me, okay? I saw the picture in the paper and thought—” Mike’s voice cracked and he took a deep breath, regaining control of his anger. “I saw the picture in the paper and panicked. I finally got hold of Adam and you know what a pain in the neck he is these days. Barely a thought comes out of his mouth that isn’t about Robyn’s pregnancy. Blah, blah, blah, till I’m sick and tired of listening to him. If he’s so desperate to be a daddy, I’ll give him my brats.” Mike wiped one hand across his mouth. “Say, you wouldn’t have a cold beer around, would you?”
Without answering, Gage pushed to his feet and headed for Harley. She stood frozen, her eyes bruised with hurt. He took the tray from her hands, balanced it on one hand, and brushed his index finger across her cheek. “He doesn’t mean what he says.”
She blinked up at him, her voice small and regretful. “Yes, he does.”
Pushing his hand away, she brushed past him and walked across the yard toward his parents and the twins. Gage acknowledged there wasn’t much he could do at the moment to ease her pain, so he took the tray back to the table and set it down.
Mike squirmed on the chair. “About that beer?”
“Kind of early, isn’t it?”
His brother grunted, a sound that reminded Gage of their dad when the old man was in one of his foul moods. “All depends on what kind of day it’s turning out to be. Today is definitely a beer day.”
Gage didn’t laugh at Mike’s attempt at a joke…or at least he hoped it was a joke. He set a glass of iced tea on the table in front of his brother and sat down across from him.
Mike picked up the glass, sniffed it, and the corners of his mouth turned down. “I take it that’s a no.”
“You know I don’t keep booze around the house.”
After gulping down half the contents, the other man banged the glass back on the table. “I need a break from the girls. They’re driving me batty. Always underfoot. Always screaming. I don’t know how Hannah did it.” His voice broke over the last few words and with trembling fingers, he swiped at his eyes below the sunglasses. “My lovely wife. I miss her so much. Every night, I see her in my dreams and I wish I’d died with her.”
Gage couldn’t begin to imagine what his brother was going through. He’d never let any woman get that close. While he waited for Mike to get his emotions under control, he glanced out at the yard.
His mom showed the girls the flowers, while his dad fussed and kept their little hands away from the blossoms. The twins, now quiet and obedient, were exceptionally cute with their long, curls of golden-brown hair.
Harley wandered along with them. She’d taken the t-shirt she’d borrowed from him, tied a belt around the middle, and in the heat of the day, was wearing it like a mini-skirt, which showed off her long shapely legs.
His mom was right. Those legs were meant to wrap around a man’s waist—
He jerked his attention back to her face where it belonged.
For the first time, he realized she seemed as lost without her sister as Mike did without his wife.
Maybe it was time for him to get involved.
Because from where he stood, it seemed that if Mike didn’t get some help, he was on the road to crash and burn, and maybe take his daughters with him.
Gage noticed that Mike never looked directly at Harley’s face. Because he understood how much that must hurt her, he wondered what would happen if the two of them had some day-to-day living time.
Would they hook up, fall in love, maybe have the set of boys Mike had always wanted?
Or would it send his brother over the edge?
He refused to be jealous. No way, no how. Because he was so not getting involved with Harley. He might be attracted to her—in fact, he might even be wildly, insanely in lust with her—but in the long run, Mike would be safe.
Reliable.
Always in control of himself and his temper.
And if there was one thing Harley deserved, it was a man who would love and cherish her for the rest of her life.
Gage’s stomach clenched. He could solve two problems with one suggestion. He smoothed out his voice, tried to sound like each word wasn’t torn from his throat. “Harley needs a place to stay right now—”
“No.” Mike jerked to his feet, panic pinching his mouth. “She doesn’t know anything about kids. She wouldn’t be able to cope. It would be one more person to drive me crazy.”
Across the yard, the girls had erupted into action, leaving his mom and dad in mid-sentence, heading for their aunt, screaming and jostling each other all the way toward her, until they reached her and flung themselves at her and wrapped their arms and legs around her legs.
He had to give her credit. She barely staggered under their onslaught as she laughed and ruffled their hair. “Looks to me like she knows how to handle them.”
Mike blew out a heavy sigh as he stared across the yard, a brooding expression on his face before he stuffed his hands into the front pockets of his jeans and dropped back onto the chair. “Doesn’t matter. I don’t want her near me.”
His dad came across the yard and joined them on the patio. “Those girls shouldn’t be near the flowers.”
“It doesn’t matter, Dad. The flowers can be replaced.”
Hands on hips, the old man surveyed the yard with a keen gardener’s eye, grunted, and changed tactics. “With this kind of heat, you can’t let your plants dry out. If they weaken, they won’t make it through the winter. You should install one of those underground watering systems. I can pick up the material at the hardware store. We could have it in by next week.”
“Dad—”
“It needs to be done.”
He shifted, growing uncomfortable with his dad’s insistence. “On my schedule, not yours.”
“
I suppose you think fooling around with that girl is more important.”
Gage glanced at Harley before he faced the older man, wondering how his dad had jumped to that conclusion, and he kept his voice even and his temper under control. “Don’t go there, Dad.”
“You should be painting the house instead. If you weren’t spending so much time chasing girls—”
“Enough, Dad,” Gage said softly. He braced his temper before it could get the worst of him. “It’s none of your business.”
A red flush worked its way into the older man’s face. “Fran, it’s time to go home.”
Gage saw the smile on her mom’s face fade. “Bill, the girls are here—”
“Now, Fran.”
On her way past, his mom squeezed Gage’s forearm. “We’ll be back tomorrow.”
His dad grunted again. “You have enough work at home, Fran. You shouldn’t be taking on more than you can handle.”
Gage didn’t want to cause an argument between his parents. “Dad’s right, Mom. You don’t need to maintain my place.”
His dad grabbed one of the glasses, gulped down the iced tea, set the glass back on the table and headed toward the driveway. “Make sure you water those plants every day.”
“I will,” Gage said to his back. “And you stay out of the heat.”
With a wave of his hand, the older man shuffled down the driveway and disappeared around the corner of the house. Frances stood on tiptoes and gave Gage a kiss on the cheek. “Don’t let your dad bother you.”
Bending to give her younger son a kiss on the forehead, she sent the twins a wistful look, then turned her back on them and walked away. As she disappeared around the corner of the house, Gage pulled his attention back to Mike who was fidgeting like a teenage kleptomaniac. “About Harley—”
“Man, I could use a drink,” Mike interrupted him. “You sure you don’t have something hidden? You know, like Dad used to hide his booze from Mom?”
“Positive. I’ll make you a deal.”
His brother peered at him, suspicious.
“I’ll call Adam and arrange a boys night out so you can get that drink. Harley can babysit the twins. You can all sleep here tonight.” When it looked like his brother might turn him down, Gage lowered his voice. “You’re not doing yourself or the girls a lick of good hanging on to the past.”
After a couple of minutes of silence, Mike straightened on the seat and slowly pushed himself up, looking more like a ninety-year-old than a thirty-two-year-old man in his prime. “You’re right. I could use a break. I’ll collect the girls, go home and pick up few things, and be back here after supper.”
“Great.” Gage pulled out his cell phone and as he watched Mike cross the yard, punched in Adam’s speed dial number.
He’d sworn not to get involved, yet here he was, putting himself smack in the middle. But he had no choice. Mike desperately needed help, and he knew without asking that Harley would do whatever she could to help him, too.
Gage might be attracted to Harley. In fact, he might even be wildly, insanely lusting for her, but Mike would always be in control of himself.
Now, all he had to do was convince Harley that Mike wanted and needed her.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Later that night, after a quick shower, Gage grabbed a fresh shirt and jeans, dressed, and went to find Harley.
For the better part of the day, she’d hung around the house, polite, apologetic, careful to stay quiet and out of his way. And he was getting damn sick and tired of her tiptoeing around him.
As he tucked in his shirt, he wandered through the house and into the kitchen, where he found her on her hands and knees on the floor.
He stopped in the doorway and let his gaze drift over her.
For lack of other clothes, she was still wearing the belted t-shirt. The material caressed her backend, and with every move she made, it slipped over her curves like a lover’s hand.
His hands.
Palms itching, it dawned on him that she’d had plenty of time to go back to her house before Mike and the twins returned. Instead, she’d hung around all day, trying to stay out of his way and blend into the walls.
As if that was possible.
It was obvious she didn’t want to go back to her house and he was glad she had an excuse to spend another night. A bit of his guilt eased.
His attention dipped to her backside again where the t-shirt rode up, revealing nothing more than bare skin and the soft nylon of her white panties. He folded his arms over his chest and leaned against the doorjamb. “What are you doing, Cinderella?”
She jumped to her feet so fast, she hit the pail beside her with her knee. Water sloshed over the edge and onto the floor, and dismay colored her pale cheeks.
Gage stepped over the water, grabbed the tea towel from the countertop, and crouched down on the floor.
“The twins spilled their iced tea.” She knelt down, the washrag in hand, and sighed. “I’m sorry I have to impose on your hospitality for another night.”
He slanted a look her way. “For the hundredth time, there’s no need to apologize.”
“Still, I’m in the—”
“Don’t say it.” Without getting off his knees, he straightened and wrung the towel out over the sink. “Think of yourself as a necessary part of tonight’s activities. You’re doing your part to give Mike a break from the girls, and by staying here, saving us the necessity of finding a babysitter.”
“I suppose.” Her attention returned to the spill. She squeezed out the rag and as she stretched out to wipe up the water, the t-shirt slid up her thigh a couple more inches.
Gage frowned down at her bare legs. “Don’t you have anything else to wear?”
She sat back on her haunches and shook her head. “Sara is bringing me some of Jessie’s clothes.”
“Sara?”
“Jessie and Nate Coltrane’s daughter.”
“Right. Nice kid. I met her at their wedding.” As he returned his attention to the water, curiosity got the best of him. “She looked pregnant.”
With another sigh, Harley sloshed the rag across the floor. “It’s my fault.”
A surprised laugh escaped him. “You got her pregnant?”
“The father of Sara’s baby is my nephew, Hale Davis.” She scowled down at the floor, sopped up some more water, and gave the rag an extra hard twist over the pail. “The little brat got her pregnant and skipped town.”
As he wiped up the last of the water and picked up the pail to dump it in the sink, he felt a smile tug at the edges of his mouth. “Do I detect a little anger?”
“If I ever get my hands on him, I’ll show him how angry I am.” She pushed to her feet and followed him to the sink where she leaned one hip against the edge of the counter, and watched him dump the pail and dry it out. “I don’t get it, though. Every month, he sends money for the baby.”
He bent, tucked the pail back under the sink, and spread out the tea towel to dry. “A man should take responsibility for his mistakes.”
“And every month, Sara tears up the check.” She shook her head and as she pushed away from the counter, her hair brushed her shoulders, and Gage struggled against the urge to touch her. “She’s coming over to help with the twins. I hope that’s okay with you.”
Gage shrugged. “As long as you’re staying here, make yourself at home.”
“Thanks.” The annoyed expression morphed into seriousness. “So should I make myself scarce when you get home?”
In a heartbeat, Gage switched mental gears because he knew exactly what she was talking about.
A beer or three, and she thought he’d be coming home to her. Under the influence of alcohol. Possibly more dangerous than anyone she’d ever met. While fear cramped his gut, he followed her into the living room and kept his tone light. “I’m the designated driver tonight.”
She stopped in the middle of the room. Her gaze skittered to his face, then bounced toward the front door. “I should probably clear
out for the night, maybe take the twins back home…or you know, somewhere else. If you like to, uh, make noise, it might, you know, get embarrassing.”
Noise? Confused, he studied the rosy blush on her cheeks, the nervous way she chewed her full bottom lip. She looked more embarrassed than afraid. “Could you be more specific?”
Hands clenching the material of the t-shirt, drawing it slowly up her thighs into dangerous territory, her embarrassment morphed into annoyance. “Do I have to spell it out for you?”
“It would probably be simpler if you did.” The doorbell rang, followed by pounding on the front door. For the moment, Gage chose to ignore the intrusion as the rationale behind her question finally hit him. A smirk grabbed at the edges of his mouth. “Are you afraid you’ll have to sit down at the breakfast table and make small talk with my night’s entertainment?”
She scuffed her bare toe against the hardwood floor and shrugged her slim shoulders. “It’s none of my business what you do or who you do it with. I thought it might be embarrassing for her to have another woman in the house, that’s all.”
The doorbell rang again. Gage headed to the front door, wondering whether he should be flattered or insulted by her question. “Contrary to what you may believe, I can refrain from picking up a woman for the night. It’s not about sex all the time.”
“What is it about?” she asked as he pulled open the door. Adam stood on the front step, his cell phone to his ear, no doubt already talking to his wife. Mike hadn’t been far off the mark. These days, a little of Adam and his pregnant wife went a long way.
Gage motioned him in. “Get Adam to explain it to you.”
Adam stepped inside, something stuffed under one arm, and mumbled a few more words into the cell phone before he disconnected the call. “Explain what?”
“That not everything a man does for—or with—a woman is about sex.”
“It isn’t?” Adam shoved a large white object into Gage’s arms. “I found this on your doorstep.”
For one moment, Gage stared down at the life-size inflatable doll in his arms. It wasn’t just any inflatable doll. This one wore a nurse’s cap, a nurse’s uniform, and the ugliest pair of fishnet stockings he’d ever seen.