Bachelorette for Sale (18 page)

J
ason took in the clean lines of the little blue Cape Cod where Cherry grew up. Orderly rows of colorful flowers waved hello under the windows, and more flowerpots led the way up the stairs to the front door, where a welcome sign greeted guests. The porch light glowed even though the sun wouldn’t set for a few more hours. Everything about the home screamed happy, normal, loving. Everything his childhood home lacked.

It’d been a week and a half since the break-in, during which time he and his crew had busted their asses to get the place cleaned up so they could start work again. Long days followed by long nights in Cherry’s arms—the second he had no complaints about. Right now, he’d rather be home celebrating the end of hump day with a cold beer and catching a game on the screen. Instead he was here. Meeting the family.

It had been his choice, actually his idea. Now he wondered what the hell he’d been thinking. Meeting the grandparents took the relationship to another level, and when he’d made the offer to come with Cherry tonight, she’d looked like a deer caught in headlights right before bolting as far and as fast as she could. Not that he’d blamed her. He had a few of those moments himself as he got ready before heading out the door. In the end he knew he’d rather spend an evening being an ant under a microscope—inspected, grilled, sized up, tested, whatever—than spend the night without her.

He looked down to his favorite jeans, soft and well-worn. “Are you sure I shouldn’t have dressed up for dinner?” The jeans were clean, and at least he’d switched to a button-down shirt. Even though Cherry was dressed casually in her bright pink tee and black pants with flamingos on them, the occasion seemed to call for putting his best foot forward.

“Stop worrying. You know you don’t have to do this. Take the car and I’ll call when we’re done.”

She gave him the out. Why wasn’t he taking it? “Nope. Real men aren’t afraid to meet the family.”

Her eyebrow lifted in a doubtful arch. “Okay then, and you look nice, kind of hot in a city chic, laid-back way. And while they’re crazy, my grandparents are salt-of-the-earth people. What you see is what you get. And we never dress up for dinner.”

Standing on the first step, he was mesmerized by her smile, warm and filled with concern for him. He was such a dope for dismissing her as a fake when they first met.

“Come on.” She tugged on his arm, drawing him closer to the rabbit hole.

The door opened before they made it up the rest of the stairs. He caught a glimpse into Cherry’s far future from the woman who stood in the doorway, liked what he saw. The same kind smile graced her face, the sharp, brilliant blue eyes twinkled with a touch of humor like she couldn’t wait to share a joke she’d heard, and what might have once been vibrant red hair now mellowed to a soft strawberry-blond. It could only be her grandmother.

Cherry stepped into the hug without hesitation, once again reminding him how different her childhood had been from his. She looked down at her grandmother’s outfit and laughed. With the two standing next to each other, he noticed they had dressed identically.

“Gram, have you been spying on me with your nanny cam again? I told you to get rid of it the last time you copied my outfit.”

The grandmother tweaked her cheek and pulled Jason in for a mama bear hug. He thought for a moment or two his ribs would crack. Cherry made the introductions and then asked where her grandfather was. Jason handed Kitty Ryan a bottle of his special wine.

“Your grandfather is around here somewhere. I know where he’s not, and that’s setting the table like I asked,” she grumbled with her Irish lilt thickening before turning her attention to Jason, all signs of marital strife gone. “Jason, dear, you didn’t have to bring anything, but thank you. Oh, look, here comes the man himself.”

Kitty harrumphed and pivoted on her heel, walking off to leave them with Cherry’s grandfather. He gave Cherry time to greet the man, which gave him a moment to check out the place she called home. And that was exactly what it was—a home—from the tantalizing aroma of roasting meat that wafted in from the direction of the kitchen to the handmade blanket over the back of the couch. Personal imprints made the house a home. Scattered throughout the room were touches of Cherry’s childhood: a lump of clay (possibly a dinosaur), a green pot made to look like a frog, a colorful wooden butterfly on a spring, and lots of pictures. Cherry as a baby, then again on what looked like her first day of school, another at the beach, graduation, and so on. In the center of the mantel stood one with a young couple and a redheaded child. Cherry looked more like her dad, with the red hair and blue eyes, than her mom, yet he could see both parents in the child.

The pictures tugged at him. Every one of them showed a happy child, surrounded by love. It took a couple of minutes of staring at each picture, studying the subjects to finally put his finger on the missing element. The later photos were all missing a certain vibrancy. The smile didn’t proudly show off missing teeth or quite reach her eyes, her shoulders had a slight slump, and her head tilted as if trying to find someone. None of them had her parents in them.

Cherry slid her hand into his, intertwining their fingers together. “Gramps, what are you wearing?”

“What’s it look like?” The man ran his fingers down the lapels of his suit jacket, inspecting Jason. He rocked back and forth on his heels, face devoid of emotion, eyes shifting down to take in the jeans every few seconds.

Knew it. Should have worn the sports coat
.

“It’s not every day you bring a young man home for dinner. As a matter of fact, you haven’t brought one home since that Ari fellow and—what was the other guy’s name? Oh, yeah, Jake. Before we waste a perfectly good evening and what smells like Kitty’s mouth-watering pot roast, tell me something, young man. What are your intentions with my granddaughter?”

“Gramps,” Cherry growled.

“Don’t ‘Gramps’ me. I’m doing my duty looking out for you. Those last two schmucks clearly didn’t have your best interest at heart. You’re too soft, always looking for the best in people, willing to overlook flaws. No worries, my Cherry Bear, I’m only making sure he’s worthy of my best girl, not trying to chase him off.”

“Yes, you are, Gramps. Now knock it off.” She turned to Jason and whispered, “Crazy, remember?”

Jason stuck his hand out, went through the pleasantries and the strength test, and watched the protective grandpa bear’s eyes widen a fraction when he held his ground. Daniel Ryan would soon learn it would take more than a whacked relative to drive him away from Cherry.

Kitty called them all to the kitchen table, saving Jason from any more tests, at least for the moment. They sat and he waited, not knowing the routine. The cloth napkins and expensive-looking china already had him out of his element. Cherry reached for the roast when Daniel cleared his throat and muttered “grace.” The women exchanged one of those squinty-eye looks women do and he knew this was not normal. They played along as Daniel rambled thanks for the food, wine, his family, and basically everything on the planet. The sound of a foot colliding with a shin brought the prayer to an end.

Kitty piled roast, potatoes, rolls, and vegetables onto his plate as if he were a little kid. He wasn’t sure how to take it until he watched her do the same thing with her husband. Clearly she was one of those women who needed to wait on the men in the household. In his house it had been every mouth for itself. They didn’t use cloth napkins, unless you counted shirtsleeves.

Definitely slipped through a wormhole to an alternate reality
.

Daniel continued with the whole etiquette routine until he’d drank two glasses of Jason’s wine. Yeah, he probably should have mentioned the alcohol level sat higher than store-bought stuff. Once that second glass was gone, off came the tie, up went the sleeves, and the real Daniel Ryan emerged.

“Tell me about yourself, Jason. You ever done time?” Daniel asked.

“No, sir.”

“Ever been arrested?”

“No, sir.”

“Was there ever a time you should have been arrested?”

“Daniel, stop it.”

Jason met Cherry’s amused gaze, noted how she twirled her finger in a circle next to her temple and smiled. “Probably once or twice in my youth, sir.”

“Good. If you’d said no, I would have known you were lying or boring. Ever been married?”

“No, sir. And before you ask, it’s not because I have commitment issues or am gay. I haven’t met the right person before.”

“Meaning you have now?”

“Gramps, eat your string beans. They’re good for you, and if you don’t, Gram won’t give you dessert.” Cherry’s voice was full of love and mischief and strength.

It wasn’t a question he was prepared to answer truthfully. He told the man what he wanted to hear. Hell, he knew he had commitment issues, but he wasn’t about to admit that to Cherry’s family. He’d told Cherry from the beginning he wasn’t the marrying kind. She seemed to be okay with it, okay enjoying each other’s company. It worked for them, but he doubted her grandparents wanted to hear about their sex life.

“Jason, did you grow up here in the neighborhood?” Kitty offered him the basket of rolls, even though he hadn’t eaten his yet.

“Yes, ma’am. I lived a couple of blocks over. Graduated a few years ahead of Cherry.”

“What are your folks’ names? Maybe I know them,” Kitty said.

“I doubt that, Mrs. Ryan. John and Mary . . . they weren’t the kind of people you’d be around.” They weren’t the kind of people he’d like to be around.

“I submitted my application to URI for my master’s program yesterday,” Cherry happily told the group. He appreciated her attempt to steer the conversation away from him and gave her a smile of thanks.

“That’s wonderful, dear. Hmm, John and Mary Valentine. John and Mary . . . Oh, I remember her, Mary Calhoun. Such a lovely lass. You have her eyes,” Kitty said and then went back to eating her dinner.

He did? After she’d abandoned them for the party life, Jason had blocked all memory of her from his mind. His own mother could walk by him on the street and he wouldn’t recognize her, yet here this woman not only remembered his mom, but knew he had her eyes.

“Gram, how do you know Jason’s mom?” Cherry held her fork suspended halfway from her plate to her mouth, glancing around.

“I worked at the school for a while. She talked about becoming an architect, really unheard of back then. Such a bright and funny lass, and determined. Guess she changed her mind.”

More like his dad knocked his mom up. He knew she’d dropped out before graduation to have Jana, but the rest was news to him. His mom had never talked about wanting to do anything. Not that he could remember. Had there been a time when she’d lain on the living room floor and built skyscrapers out of Legos with him? Or had that been a fantasy he’d made up years ago?

A warm foot caressed the inside of his calf. Looking up, he caught the concern in Cherry’s eyes as she mouthed “sorry.” He mouthed back “it’s okay” and he meant it. For now, he just wanted to let it go. Tonight wasn’t the time to process this new information on a woman he should love, but had hated for so many years. A woman he hadn’t really known at all.

“I hear you’ve been having some problems over at the community center. Any idea who was behind the stunt?” The man ate with gusto, gesturing with his knife on a regular basis. “I could get some boys from my old crew up here. Give you a hand with security if you need it.”

“Gramps, really. Enough.”

“Danny, stop pulling the man’s leg. Your old crew, as you put it, was nothing but a bunch of boys from the homeland hanging out at Riley’s Bar telling war stories. Most of them are gone now or too hobbled up to do more than make it to the bathroom on time. What few are in good shape have the eyesight of a bat.”

Daniel took another sip of his wine. “You don’t know everything, woman.”

Kitty stared down her husband, not uttering a word.
Gonna be a cold night in their room tonight.

“The police think it was a group of bored teens,” Jason said.

“You don’t,” Daniel replied.

“No sir, I don’t. It’s too much of a coincidence. The reporter showed up right after the place was trashed. He’s the type who’d do anything for a story. Or it could be someone else.” Thankful for the change of subject, he focused on Cherry’s grandfather. The guy might play the part of a crazy old man, but Jason could see the sharp mind turning behind those clear blue eyes of his. Another reason he was glad to change the topic—he didn’t want to talk about his dysfunctional family or need Daniel Ryan to keep pushing on the status of his and Cherry’s relationship.

“You know what’s rarer than a four-leaf clover? A coincidence. Can you come up with any reason someone would not want the center to open? I can’t think of any. It’s been around forever, does the kids a world of good, and no one would benefit from it closing. The property isn’t even worth a whole lot, not in this area. More than likely this is a personal attack against one of you or someone dealing with the center. I’d start with making a list of who has it in for you, both of you. Then work your way out as you eliminate suspects.” Daniel scooped up the last of his potatoes, eyeing the bowl before Kitty nudged it away. “Has anything strange happened at home to either of you?”

“No, but I’ve got Tucker, who as you know will howl at the wind if he thinks it shouldn’t be blowing, and Jason has a dog too. It’s probably just kids, Gramps. Nothing to worry about.”

“Ohhh, honey.” Kitty reached over, touched her granddaughter’s cheek before reaching over and patting Jason’s arm. “She does a good job taking care of herself, but it’s nice to know she has someone else looking after her.”

Daniel took Cherry’s hand in his big, gnarled fingers. She’d lost her parents, yet she had more than Jason had ever known growing up. Until this moment, he hadn’t had a clue as to exactly what he’d been missing. Sure, he spent a great deal of his time at Dave and Brody’s houses. While not as dysfunctional as his family, he wouldn’t call them normal either. Dave’s parents were great, if you kept them apart. Put them together and it turned into the real-life version of
War of the Roses
. Brody’s mom did her best, watched out for all the kids, loved them, and made them stay on the straight and narrow. His dad, on the other hand, was the meanest SOB on the planet.