Family Matters (10 page)

She cackled and patted her faded hair. “The best butter don't get you more than a newspaper, and you know it. Besides, I asked about the trip, not the lady you took along with you. Guess that means she made an impression.”

She'd caught him there. Running his thumb over his eyebrow, he laughed sheepishly. “Yeah, Mary. A
bad
impression. She's too outspoken, like someone else I know. And independent.”

“That ought to go down fine with you. You're not one to like clinging vines.”

He shook his head. “Independence is fine, commendable even, but she's too bossy along with it. Too ready to light into people and take them down a few notches. And she's got way too many relatives.”

“Those are all good things! You need a woman like that, somebody to get you out of yourself. Somebody with good genes in the family so you can finally get some little ones of your own.”

“Mary…” He knew his warning tone wouldn't deter her.
She spent her spare time trying to pair him up with every woman minus an engagement or wedding ring who stopped by her kiosk.

“What's she look like?” she asked, quickly changing the subject.

“Petite, as I said.” He thought about Kerry, barely reaching his chin. But not lacking inches in all the right places. “Blue eyes. Red hair.”

“Ahh. Got a temper?”

“Oh, yeah.”

“A real feisty one, I'll betcha.”

He nodded, calm on the outside but fighting a whirlwind of thoughts inside. With that one word—
feisty
—he was immediately back where he started. Thinking of Kerry.

Dry-mouthed and swallowing hard, he pushed aside the paper Mary had left on the counter. “Hang on to it,” he croaked. “I'll pick it up after my run.” He waved and walked away, trying to forget the knowing look she had given him.

A block away, he cut across the ring of bare earth circling the basketball hoops and tossed his towel onto a bench, then did a few minutes' worth of warm-ups before his first lap.

He could have afforded a membership at any of Chicago's priciest gyms, but he preferred to come to this beaten track of earth. It kept him closer to his childhood, in touch with the days he didn't want to remember but couldn't let himself forget.

Kerry had gotten it completely wrong when she'd accused him of having all the advantages. You didn't get many of those when you grew up with a single mom. When money was tight and time together even tighter. When you had to fight your way through a tough neighborhood to get to school every day.

No wonder he never wanted to visit the rundown areas of
town, like the one Kerry had taken him to the other day in search of her student J.J.

He pushed himself to run another lap, tried to clear his mind, to think of nothing, or at least of things that didn't raise his blood pressure or set off cravings for Kerry.

Instead, he thought of her all the more.

Her evasiveness bothered him. Her refusal to answer his questions irritated him, as well. But despite his suspicions, no matter how he tried, he couldn't get her out of his mind.

And that wasn't good at all.

He wanted to find the right woman, someday. Wanted a family of his own—but on his terms. His way. A stable, secure,
sane
family, made up of two loving parents and a few energetic but well-behaved kids.

If he ever settled down, it wouldn't be with a woman like Kerry MacBride.

And it sure wouldn't be with one who had a crazy family like hers.

He ate up the dusty track with furious speed, pushing himself into extra laps and hoping exhaustion would set in. Soon.

Back at the bench, he grabbed his towel and rubbed down, wishing he could scrub his thoughts away as easily.

It wasn't just Kerry he needed to get away from, it was those uncontrollable kids, that conniving grandmother and, most of all, that scheming uncle of hers.

He'd left them all behind, had washed his hands of the last of them when he'd finally deposited Kerry on her doorstep.

Now, when he went back to Lakeside again, he could focus on what really mattered. Taking care of his own family.

Whether his mom wanted him to or not.

As soon as she was able to pick up her car on Monday morning, Kerry headed to Lakeside. In the early afternoon, her band of volunteers gathered at the Village's game room for a short planning meeting, then proceeded to the old amusement park.

After a few minutes to catch up on her notes, Kerry followed.

The sun shone brightly, and a light breeze stirred the wildflowers lining the path that circled the lake. She turned her feet firmly toward the dirt pathway.

If only she could turn her thoughts as firmly away from Matt.

The ride home to Chicago yesterday morning had taken less time than she'd anticipated. Matt had stayed quiet, barely speaking to her during the entire trip. Even so, the air between them seemed to crackle with thoughts unspoken, emotions held in check, memories of their kiss.

Afraid to trust her subconscious with her sketchpad, she buried her nose in a book she'd borrowed from Gran. Though it was written by one of their favorite authors, with a forensic pathologist main character and a serial killer on the loose, the book couldn't keep her attention. Still, holding it allowed her to pretend she wasn't aware of every move Matt made.

He dropped her off at home, insisted upon opening her
car door and helping her with her bags as far as the front of the house. Then, after a short but awkward silence, he smiled politely, said goodbye and left her alone on the step.

Why that had bothered her, she didn't know.

Why that
continued
to bother her this Monday afternoon, she was sure she knew but definitely didn't want to think about.

She had more pressing problems at hand. And J.J. Grogan was one of them.

She had stopped by his house again on the way out of town. His mother's boyfriend, Hector, wasn't there, thank goodness. But neither was J.J. His mother said she hadn't seen him for days.

“He's a big boy now, does what he wants, I can't control him,” she whined.

Knowing the woman's frustration came more from her home life—such as it was, with Hector around—than it did from her son, Kerry had bitten her tongue. But now her own frustration boiled over with worry about J.J.

She increased her pace, as if she could run away from
all
the thoughts that concerned her today, and soon reached the amusement park.

As she approached the entrance, she saw a figure leaning up against the archway, one boot-shod foot braced against the support, his arms crossed, his head turned away. At the sound of her footsteps on the wooden pier, he shifted to look in her direction.

She blinked, sure the sun had dazzled her. Sure she'd suffered heatstroke from her rapid trip around the lake. Sure her eyes had tricked her into seeing someone that wasn't really there.

But he
was
there.

And when Matt gave her a lopsided grin, her heart gave a little jolt that left it feeling lopsided, too.

“What are you doing here?” she asked. Much as she wanted to believe he'd come back to Lakeside for her, she realized the impossibility of that.

“I decided it would be in everyone's best interest if I stuck around.”

He meant his mother and the other residents connected to the amusement park, of course. “Your mom must have been glad to see you again.”

“She hasn't yet. I dropped my stuff off at the local motel, but I need to break that to her gently.”

She frowned, puzzled.

“It's her furniture,” he explained. “The only couch she's got is a couple of feet too short for me. It's fine for a night or two, but after that, I'm out of there.” He tilted his head from side to side, stretching his neck. “I still haven't gotten rid of the kinks from the weekend.” Then he smiled. “You could offer me a bed at your gran's place.”

She froze. He was at it again, teasing her. Or could he possibly be serious?

It didn't matter. Just the idea of sharing a house with him made her hot all over. At the same time, the thought of sharing a house with him
and her family
gave her chills. She couldn't handle either response. “Sorry,” she said shortly. “We haven't even got floor space to spare.”

“Yeah, with that brood I can see why. How did you all ever live together in that little house?”

“It wasn't easy. But my two older brothers were already on their own, and the rest of us made do. I got the couch—and it was plenty long enough for me.”

“I'll bet.” His eyes met hers. Then, he dropped his gaze, looked slowly down the length of her.

He began it as a teasing gesture, she was sure. She could almost see the smart remark about her height forming on his lips. But by the time he made his way even more slowly
up her body again, his expression told her it had turned into something more.

And that couldn't happen.

Unwillingly, she stumbled back a half step, taking her away from him, breaking the connection that seemed to have developed between them. She had a good imagination, but there was no sense letting it run wild here. Or anywhere. Ever.

“You couldn't have taken one more night on your mom's couch?” she asked, desperate for something to say.

“It'll be more than a night. As of today, I'm on vacation.”

“You're
what?
” Everything around her shifted out of place, like the kaleidoscope she used during class to teach her students about patterns. She gulped, took a second, calmer breath, and said, “But—you're a lawyer. Don't you have cases to handle?”

“I have a secretary, clerks and paralegals to take care of some of the paperwork and research. But there's nothing pressing at the moment. Anyhow, lawyers get time off, too, you know.”

“Not for good behavior, I'll bet.” She started along the pier.

“I figure you need me on the team.”

That stopped her midstride. “You're joking. Aren't you?” Saturday had been bad enough. She didn't need endless days with Matt at her heels.

“Do I look like I'm joking?”

“Unfortunately, no.” She swallowed hard. “Well, thanks for the offer, but it's not necessary.”

“But I insist.” When she opened her mouth to protest, he continued, “The clock's ticking, Kerry. Face it, there's a lot that needs to get done around here. A heck of a lot. We saw that the other day. And you need all the help you can get.”

“We'll manage.”

“Kerry.” He stared her down. “I'm not going anywhere.”

His hazel eyes had turned emerald-green today, picking up the color of his T-shirt. She looked longingly into their depths for just another second, then steeled herself. “All right,” she said finally. “I suppose knowing where you are will be better than not having a clue what you're up to.”

He grinned, jolting her heart again. “What's the game plan?”

“I need to take a look behind the scenes. You know, check out a few off-limits areas, crawl under the roller coaster. That kind of thing.”

It wasn't true. Carl, the retired engineer, would take on that job and get a certified engineer to back him up. But she hoped the idea alone would make Matt get lost in a hurry.

Deliberately, she took a turn looking him over, beginning at those annoying mirrored sunglasses and the hundred-dollar haircut, continuing along his spotless clothing, ending at his polished boots. “A dirty job, but somebody's got to get filthy doing it.”

“Bring it on,” he said, shoving the glasses up the bridge of his nose, then hooking his thumbs in his belt loops like some urban cowboy missing his six-shooters.

Dismayed, she turned away. Obviously, she couldn't shake this man from her trail as easily as she had anticipated. That didn't mean she'd give up trying. Eventually she would succeed.

Shaking his opinion of Uncle Bren and the entire amusement park project was another story altogether.

 

M
ATT WATCHED AS
K
ERRY
disappeared into the first wooden booth, a small shack with a waist-high counter running around three sides and a full wall at the rear.

He looked along the length of the pier. At the opposite end, the Ferris wheel towered over everything, looking faded and faraway and about ready to topple into the lake. Might be
the best thing that could happen. If he stumbled across
any
evidence proving this pier was unsafe and this entire project was a farce, no one could argue with him about closing this park.

Not even Kerry.

She appeared at the front counter of the nearby booth.

He crossed the space, leaned casually toward her, watched her cheeks turn pink. “Looks like you're ready to run the whole show.”

He smiled, but with mixed emotions. Seeing her again had made him happier than it should have. At the same time, it made him afraid. Very afraid.

For some reason, teasing Kerry had become complicated, both more fun than he'd expected and more hazardous than he liked. He wanted to see that flush cross her cheeks and that confused look touch her eyes. Both proved she was as unsettled by him as he was by her.

He was playing a dangerous game here, without a doubt. But the stakes—in terms of his mother's life savings—far outweighed the risk.

Still, feeling rattled, he looked away and gestured at a row of buttons on the counter between them. “What's this supposed to be?”

Her brows lowered in puzzlement. “Don't you know?”

“Would I be asking?”

“It's a wheel of chance.” She pointed to one end of the counter near him, where a round, flat disk had been attached to the upright beam supporting that corner of the shack. Wooden pegs edged the disk at right angles, and a long metal piece like the hand of a clock spanned the face of it.

“How does it operate?” he asked.

“You push a button to spin the metal hand in the middle.” She reached beneath the counter, fumbled with something, then frowned and tried again. “It's not working.”

“And that surprises you?”

She glared at him. “No, not a bit. I'd forgotten it runs on electricity, and naturally, the power's out. I'm getting that taken care of. Anyhow, when the spinner stops between two of the pegs, it's hovering over a picture. If someone has a marker on that picture, they've won that prize.”

Matt reached up and brushed a finger against the metal hand, trying to turn it manually. It didn't move. “Probably rusted beyond hope,” he told her.

“Probably just needs some oil,” she shot back.

This time, he added pressure with his finger. The metal gave a loud, squeaking groan and began to move. “And this is supposed to win a prize?”

“Yes.” Her brows went down again. “Haven't you ever played the wheel at an amusement park or carnival?”

“Never been to either one.”

“Never?”
She sounded shocked beyond belief.

“It's kid stuff, Kerry Anne.”

Crossing his arms, he leaned on the counter, bringing himself closer to her. He could see the muscles in her throat working as she tried to swallow.

“You must have been a kid, once,” she said, her voice cracking. “There isn't any other option.”

He grinned. “Doesn't matter. Neither of us are kids any more. So, now you're a grown-up, what would you like to win?”

She blinked.

Her ever-present clipboard wavered in front of his eyes. The damned thing gave her protection, made a physical barrier between them, and now, even gave her an excuse to look away.

She made a note on the top sheet, frowned down at it, and said, “I don't play games of chance.”

“But you do play other games?”

“No.” She looked him in the eye. “I don't play games. I don't pull tricks. And I don't run scams.”

She backed away from him and went through the opening in the rear wall. Feeling no guilt, he waited for her to reappear.

She might be innocent of any trick when it came to this project. Regardless, she'd gotten her proposal passed behind his back and she continued to support the person who
had
perpetrated a scam.

Abruptly, she marched out from behind the booth and, without looking back, strode toward the next one on the pier.

He frowned. Logic told him it would definitely be safer for him to keep his distance. But not nearly as much fun.

He headed after her.

They moved from stand to stand, from something she called a ringtoss to another game that involved catching wooden goldfish to a booth he could finally recognize, a shooting range.

At this stand, a row of weather-worn plastic shotguns lined the counter. At one or two stations, a broken support pin showed where a gun had once been and had gone missing.

“You'll need to replace these,” he said, indicating the empty pins.

“We'll need to replace all of them,” she said, making a note on her clipboard.

“Looks like the targets have had it, too.” He pointed to a couple of rusted silhouettes near the back wall.

“I've about had it myself,” she said through clenched teeth. “Why are you doing this? Why are you bothering to point out all that's wrong about everything?” He could see the effort it took for her to put the clipboard down lightly on the counter-top. “Matt, I'm as aware as you are that a lot of work needs to be done around here. That's why I'm taking inventory.”

Now a pang of guilt did strike him, but it came and left in a moment.
Life savings are at stake.
“Look, we're both caught in the crossfire of this situation. I'm sorry about that, but it's your uncle's doing, not mine. So don't try putting the blame on me.”

“Then don't go putting pressure on me.” She stared him down. “You promised me sixty days. You can't expect me to have everything in order in the blink of an eye.”

It wasn't getting things “in order” that mattered. It was getting money back to its rightful owners. He had to keep that in mind, and not be distracted by cute-and-beautiful Kerry MacBride.