Captured In Ink (Art of Love Series) (10 page)

Reesa rolled her eyes again, swinging her gaze back to the door and straight into three people trying to hide their knowing smiles from her, all with their eyebrows raised high on their foreheads.

“Hi,” she said, totally embarrassed and feeling her face flood with a blush. She punched Shane one last time hard on the arm when he laughed at her discomfort and sent him staggering sideways. “I’m Reesa Callahan. Thanks for coming to rescue me. Come on in.”

***

Reesa made a third pot of coffee while she watched Will trying as unsuccessfully as Shane had to fit his massive upper body inside the sink cabinet.

Michael stood and walked to him, stooping down. “Dad, get out of there. You don’t fit. Let me do it. Just get the church key ready to shut off the main water connection if it breaks.”

“I sprayed the shut off valve twice with lube. It should loosen up enough to turn now,” Will said, sliding out and standing. “Wow. That’s hard on the old back.”

“Well don’t hurt yourself,” Michael said, laughing. “Jessica will kill Shane and me both if you’re out of commission for your wedding night.”

“Forgive my husband, Reesa,” Carrie said, narrowing her gaze on Michael’s grin. “He’s not very couth.”

“Am I lying?” Michael asked Shane, who shook his head and grinned. “See, Carrie? I’m just being a realist about the situation.”

Reesa looked at the ceiling and refused to meet Shane’s wicked gaze that she knew would match his laughter. Finally, she brought it back to Will who was rubbing his lower back.

“Will, please sit and let me get you another cup of coffee.”

Will nodded. “I won’t say no to that offer. Jessica drinks tea and I’ve been trying to do instant at her house. I wait until she goes to work and sneak over to Michael’s for real coffee.”

Michael slid under the sink, his smaller mass allowing him to get far enough into the cabinet to do what was necessary. A couple grunts and two minutes later Michael slid back out. “Ta da—water is turned off and the valve is working again.”

“Thank you all,” Reesa said happily, practically sagging with relief.

A horn blew outside and Reesa walked to the door to open it for Sara who was home from school.

“Aunt Teresa, there are big bikes at our house! Did you see them?” Sara asked, her backpack trailing behind her on the ground being dragged by a single strap.

“Pick up your backpack, sweetie,” Reesa said. “You’re getting it dirty.”

Sara picked it up and walked into the house, her head still turned trying to get a look at the bike parked in the driveway.

“Are they our bikes?” Sara asked.

“No, baby,” Reesa said. “The one by the house is Shane’s bike. The big one on the street belongs to his father.”

“
Shaney’s father?
” Sara asked, confused, walking the living room.

Shane walked out of the kitchen and bowed. “Princess Sara—very good to see you, Your Majesty. How was school today?”

“Shaney!” Sara said, running and throwing herself at him. “You came back.”

Shane bent and hoisted her up. “Of course I came back,” he said, laughing. “Didn’t you think I would?”

Sara shrugged. Shane looked at Reesa, who swallowed and looked away.

Oh hell, he thought. Not everyone always came back. Missed that one
, Shane decided, mentally cringing at his joking manner.

“Princess Sara—I brought my family to meet you. Would you like to go put on your dancing shoes first?” Shane asked, changing the subject quickly.

“Is your mommy here?” she asked.

“No,” Shane answered. “My mother was busy. You’ll have to meet her another day.”

He hoped the universe forgave him for the tiny lie this time.

“Is your daddy here?” Sara asked.

“Yes,” Shane confirmed. “And he would very much like to meet you.”

“Will he take me for a ride on the big bike?” she asked.

“Well, not yet. You have to have a motorcycle helmet and they don’t make them your size. But he would probably let you sit on the bike and pretend to ride. He used to do that for me when I was little like you,” Shane told her.

Sara considered that for a moment. “Okay. I would like to sit on it. Can I wear my dancing shoes
and
my princess dress?”

“I’m sure that would be fine,” he said seriously, setting her down, and watching her run down the hall.

When Sara was out of earshot, Shane looked at Reesa. “Is she still asking when her parents are coming home?”

“Every night when she wakes up and forgets what’s going on,” Reesa said quietly.

“I can’t imagine how you’ve dealt with all four of them grieving by yourself,” Shane told her.

“I have Jillian. She helps a lot when she’s home,” Reesa said.

But Jillian wasn’t able to be there all the time, Shane thought. And Jillian hadn’t been the one who gave up her job to take care of the kids.

Obviously, the “dweeb” had been no help at all.

Even if he and Reesa had been only friends, Shane would still have wanted to help her with the kids now and again. They were great. The whole family was great.

Grief was a bitch to deal with, especially alone. He’d done volunteer grief counseling for two years in college. Shane couldn’t imagine losing his mother and father the way the kids had theirs. Thinking about it sure made his parent’s divorce seem like nothing important in the bigger picture of life. His family loving him had always been the one constant in his life. Maybe seeing them here bothered Reesa in ways she wasn’t showing him.

“Want me to get my family out of your hair?” Shane asked, testing his theory.

“No—I’d like to order lunch for everyone. It seems the least I can do for the rescue,” Reesa said, running a hand through her hair in response to Shane’s suggestion. “Brian has his counselor appointment after school today at three-thirty and Zack has ball practice. Chelsea is planning on just hanging at the school to wait on me to pick up Zack. She doesn’t like being home alone. I’m not going to get much done around the house before I have to leave anyway. Everyone might as well stay and have lunch with me and Sara.”

Shane nodded at Reesa’s logistical list just as Sara came bounding back down the hall. He bowed to her.

“Princess Sara, are you prepared to meet my family?” he asked.

“Yes—I am
repaired
,” she said.

“
Prepared
,” Reesa corrected, smiling at the sweet nervousness on Sara’s face.

“That’s what I said—
repaired
,” Sara replied, her face serious.

“If it’s okay, I’d like to be here when Joe comes tonight,” Shane told Reesa, smiling at Sara’s expression.

Reesa sighed, nodded, and poked his tattooed arm. “Sure. Far be it from me to run my hero off.”

“I think your aunt just called me a hero,” Shane said to Sara.

“Well—you are very
tall
,” Sara said wisely.

Shane laughed as he walked into the kitchen holding Sara’s hand.

***

That evening at seven, Shane was sitting in the floor handing Joe tools.

In the background, he heard Zack and Chelsea in a heated debate over a teacher at the high school and whether the grading in his class was fair. Hearing them, Shane’s first thought was that it might have been interesting if he and Michael had been closer in age.

Brian had gone to his room when he got home and had yet to come out this evening. He hadn’t really even said hello.

Sara and Reesa were down the hall in Sara’s room picking out clothes and getting
“repaired”
for tomorrow. Sara’s mispronunciation made him grin. Man, he had fallen hard for the little smarty blonde, almost as hard as he’d fallen for Reesa.

“Dude—how can you stand this craziness? You sit for hours in that condo of yours with no music, no TV, and no one around. Now you’re smiling that Buddha smile of yours in the middle of chaos,” Joe observed. “Reesa must be
extremely
talented in the sack to merit this level of tolerance.”

Shane frowned. “Hey, watch it! You’re not allowed to wonder how good Reesa is or why I’m here unless you keep your thoughts PG.”

Joe grunted inside the cabinet, swearing softly.

“I like them, Joe,” Shane told him. “I like all of them. Being here is not a hardship.”

“Yeah—but what’s in this homey box of crazy for you?” Joe asked quietly. “What does Shane Larson get from being here?”

“I don’t know yet,” Shane replied seriously. “I just know this is where I need to be.”

“You have that look I can’t argue with, which is why I’m not home drinking beer after the twelve-hour day I put in already,” Joe said, sighing. “I probably owe you several of these damn favors. When I feel paid up, you are going to catch hell, Larson. Then you will pay my friend.”

“I’ll pay you now if you want. I’m just glad you’re able to do this stuff. Neither Reesa nor I are handy around the house,” Shane told him.

“Tell your woman to call me when there’s a problem. Either I’ll help her or find her someone who can,” Joe said, laying down his tools at last. “If she matters so much to you, I’ll make sure no one takes advantage of her.”

Joe turned on the main water valve again and heard the pipes fill. So far—so good, he thought.

“Okay, Larson. Turn the cold water on very slowly and pray to your maker while you’re doing it,” Joe said, exaggerating an Irish brogue that he didn’t come by naturally, but had cultivated for picking up women. It worked remarkably well with his red hair and laughing blue gaze when they were going to school up east in Baltimore.

Shane turned on the water, and Joe quickly verified there were no leaks.

“Success,” Joe said, smiling. “Can I go home now? I hear a beer calling me.”

Reesa came back into the kitchen and sighed at the sight of the faucet running smoothly.

“Wow, that’s good to see. Hard to believe that when I was an accountant I used to care about big things like companies skimming profits from their stockholders. Now as a stay home mother, the sight of the kitchen faucet working brings tears of gratitude to my eyes. You’re a good man, Joe,” Reesa said, smiling. “How about a beer while I write you a check?”

“I’ll take the beer, but no check,” Joe said, studying the petite brunette who was pleasantly charming and smiled about nearly everything. He bet she had a keen sense of humor. Of course, she would need one to survive four kids in the house.

“I owe Shane for Saturday still. We’re even now that I helped you. You can work out any other payment deals with him. I’m sure he’d be happy to collect on my behalf. Don’t let him take advantage of your good nature.”

Reesa snorted as she brought both Joe and Shane a beer. “Shane’s been my hero all day. I already owe him for calling you. At least let me feed you. I was just about to put lasagna in the oven. All I have to do is warm it up.”

“You cook?” Joe asked, fighting not to laugh at Shane narrowing his eyes.

“Yes, she cooks. What’s it to you, McEldowney?” Shane demanded.

Joe bowed his head to the floor to hide his smile. Larson was already jealous. God help the man—he was a goner over the tiny, charming woman.

“I can’t remember the last time I worked for food. Normally, the hero gets all the gratitude in Larson’s stories, so it’s nice for his lowly sidekick to get some recognition for once. I’d love to stay for dinner, Reesa. Call me when you need anything fixed. I’ll make you a good deal or find you the right help,” he said, feeling good about himself when she nodded and looked extremely relieved.

Joe looked at Shane and grinned. His friend’s expression was a mixture of both exasperation and gratitude. No worries though, Reesa wasn’t his type. But then, he wouldn’t have picked her out of a line-up as Shane’s type either. Since Larson’s gaze stayed glued to her ass when her back was turned, it was patently obvious to Joe that he still had a lot to learn about his friend.

***

Pleasantly full of pasta, Shane gathered up dinner plates from the large dining table and carried them to the kitchen sink. The kitchen was large and spacious, not so big that you couldn’t talk comfortably across the space. Chelsea brought her own load to the sink and shooed Shane away.

“Aunt Teresa has to get Sara into a bath. It’s my turn to load the dishwasher. If you want something to do, you can go help Brian with his homework. Zack always makes Brian mad when he tries to help, and they yell for an hour. Do you know anything about geography maps?”

“Sure. I download them into my GPS all the time,” Shane told her. “I’ve been getting enough school lately because I’ve gone back to working on my dissertation. I’m not really up for homework tonight. Can I just hide out here and keep you company for a while?”

Chelsea nodded at his teasing, but didn’t smile. “I heard Aunt Teresa call you Dr. Larson. What kind of doctor are you?”

Shane sighed. “Your aunt was being sarcastic. I’m not a doctor yet.”