Family Matters (15 page)

What the hell?

He stiffened. Was she going to make excuses for his father, now, the way she did for MacBride?

He sat forward, putting his hands on his knees. “That's not true, Mom. He did leave us. I remember the day. I sat on the windowsill in the living room and watched him walk away with a suitcase in each hand and another two under each arm. He took everything he could manage, because he knew then he wasn't coming back. And he never did.”

“No, he never came back,” she said gently. “Because I didn't want him to.
He
didn't make the decision to leave. I made it for him.”

“What?” He shook his head in confusion.

“It's true, Matthew.”

“Why?”

“Do you have to ask, with the way he treated us? Or maybe you do. Maybe I did as good a job covering up for him as I'd hoped.” She leaned forward to touch his arm. “Your father was not a good father, not a good husband, not a good influence for you to have around. I couldn't let you suffer for my mistake. I didn't want to suffer, either. So I had to do something. And I did.” She sighed. “I'm sorry I never told you before. Maybe it would have made a difference.”

The revelation left him speechless.

Thoughts bombarded him faster than he could process them.

Learning this years ago probably wouldn't have had any impact on what he thought about his father. Regardless of the details of his leaving, he was who he was, and that hadn't changed over the years. Matt knew that from the infrequent times the man showed up on his doorstep.

As to this news making a difference to everything else in his life…? Yeah. As in, changing everything he believed in. Changing the career he'd chosen. Changing the family he'd never had.

He'd always wanted the television-role-model family, with himself the hardworking husband taking care of his loving wife and well-scrubbed, well-behaved kids. Nothing at all like Kerry and her crazy clan.

The thought felt disloyal, making him wince.

He'd never found that family, anyhow, and probably never would. How did you trust letting someone into your life, when someone else close to you has walked out?

Been thrown out.
He'd have to adjust his thinking on that.

Most of all, his mom's news had already changed what he thought about himself.

All along, he'd believed he was the strong one in their family, he was the protector, the savior. Yet, his mom hadn't needed his help. She had protected him.

The news still had him stunned. He stood and paced again.

He'd made a number of erroneous judgments in his life based on something that had never been true.

What mattered now was, what kind of faulty conclusions had he been coming to lately?

Hard at work unpacking inventory in the storage shed the next morning, Kerry heard the unmistakable sound of a boy's voice mimicking a helicopter. The sound came from nearby, and she tracked it to find Brody at the game booths.

“Brody, what are you doing out here?”

“Just getting in some landing practice.”

“It's a ringtoss, not an airstrip.” He skimmed a plastic pinwheel through the air, its blades spinning, and brought it to a sliding stop on the booth's flat counter. “I
know
that,” he said with exaggerated patience. “Tosses are boring.”

“What happened to cleaning the seats on the Tilt-A-Whirl?”

“That's boring, too.”

“But it's necessary.”

Matt came around the corner in time to see Brody rolling his eyes. He looked from her to Brody and back again without saying a word. It was the first she'd seen of him since he'd rescued Colin the day before. If he didn't want to get involved with the boys again, she couldn't blame him.

“Do I have to go back, Kerry?” Brody whined.

“No, you don't have to. I thought you wanted to.”

He shrugged. “It wasn't what I thought.”

“A lot of things aren't what we think they'll be, Brody,”
Matt put in. His furrowed brows and unsmiling mouth made him look extraordinarily serious. “Life's full of surprises. Sometimes good, sometimes bad.”

“Well, that job Kerry gave me is bad—real bad.”

Matt's expression said his life was “real bad” at the moment, too. Had their talk yesterday morning affected him that much? Would he ever forgive all the things she'd said? She'd meant them, but she'd gotten her Irish up at hearing about his father and probably hadn't made her points as diplomatically as she should have.

“She said you didn't have to do it,” Matt told Brody. “What would you rather do?”

“Help you?” He made it a question, as if afraid Matt would say no.

Instead, he nodded. “I think that could be arranged. I'm going to be greasing up the moving parts on the carousel.”

“Fun! Colin and J.J. will help, too. Okay, Kerry?”

“Just make sure the grease goes where it's
supposed
to go,” she warned. “You remember what I said to you and Colin last night, don't you?”

He nodded solemnly.

“Okay, then,” she agreed.

“Yeah!” Brody ran in the direction of the carousel.

She sighed and shook her head. “I
did
give them a severe talking-to last night. And even threatened to keep them home from the potluck at the clubhouse tomorrow night. Whether that will work or not, I don't know. Are you sure you want to do this, Matt? That job could take the rest of the day.”

“As sure as I am about anything around here,” he said grimly. “At least it'll keep them out of your hair.”

And put them into yours,
she thought as he walked away.

J.J. would give him no trouble. But, even after disciplining Colin and Brody about yesterday's escapade, she had
her doubts about how much they would tone down their less dangerous antics. Clowning around was in their blood.

She thought again about what Matt had said. His words implied he would be with the boys and she wouldn't. In other words,
she and Matt
would spend the day apart, too. Is that why he'd made the offer?

Maybe he looked so serious because he was thinking of the other night and regretting that he'd reached out to her. That he'd kissed her.

Was he sorry he'd ever met her?

In that case, the added exposure to the youngest members of the MacBride family today ought to take care of that. It just might make Matt Lawrence go away.

Which might be the best solution for everyone.

 

A
T THE CAROUSEL,
M
ATT
soon discovered that the gift of gab ran to the youngest MacBrides, too. They'd barely let J.J. open his mouth before taking over the conversation. And the focus seemed to be on their big sister.

“She's good,” Brody informed him, “except when it comes to rules.”

“Strict?” Matt asked casually.

“
Oh, yeah.
She never bends the rules. Especially about what we have to eat.”

“Yeah,” Colin put in. “She's got a one-track mind when it comes to vegetables. I mean, just because we're Irish doesn't mean we have to eat everything in the world that's green, right?”

Matt bit the inside of his cheek to hold back a grin and suspected J.J. had to do the same. “I didn't notice her enforcing that at Bill's on Saturday.”

“It's the only place we can eat what we want,” Brody said.

“Then she does bend the rules sometimes.”

“Ha!” Colin said. “Not very often, that's for sure.”

“It sounds like Kerry pretty much raised you two.” He knew the truth but felt curious about what the boys would say.

“Yeah,” Brody said, “'cause me and Colin were born after her.”

“Our mom and dad were never around,” Colin explained. “Then Grandpa died, and Gran was getting up there. Kerry kind of took care of us when we were growing up.”

Maybe he didn't know the truth, after all. Kerry had given most of the credit to Maeve.

“Especially Brody,” Colin added, snickering. “She even changed his diapers.”

Brody glared and threw a greasy rag at him. “She did not.”

“Did so.”

“Did not—and, anyway, at least she didn't have to tell off some kid who was beating me up in third grade, like she did for you.”

“You don't know that.”

“Yes, I do. I was there.”

“Yeah, right.” Colin slapped Brody lightly on the back of the head. “You don't know what you're talking about.”

“I
was
there,” Brody insisted to Matt. “She went off yelling at that kid. Whew! You don't
ever
want to get Kerry that mad at you.”

“I can imagine,” Matt said drily.

Over the boy's shoulder, J.J. nodded emphatically.

Matt could see a teenage Kerry hauling off and yelling at anyone who dared do anything against one of her brothers.

Hell, she was still defending her family. She'd hauled off and yelled at
him
for having anything to say against her uncle, hadn't she?

Despite his annoyance at that, he had to admire her loyalty.

Matt and the boys worked hard for the rest of the day—even Colin and Brody did their share. Finally, Matt wiped his hands clean and dropped the rag in a trash can. “All right, guys, that's about it. We're done for today.”

“All
right,
” Brody and Colin chorused.

“I recommend you both hit the shower.”

They took off running.

J.J. lagged behind, sitting on the edge of the carousel to gather their supplies. “Told you Ms. MacBride was the best.”

“So you did. Have you talked to her yet?”

He shook his head. “Haven't had the chance.”

“I know. She's busy. But make the time, J.J.,” he said quietly. “You've got valid reasons for not being sure about going on to school. You're looking at all the angles. And that's good. But sometimes people who've been around longer know how to work those angles.”

“You heard Colin and Brody. She won't bend the rules.”

“And she shouldn't. I'm not saying that, either. But there are options. Financial aid, work-study programs, other types of scholarships. She might be able to help you with your problem.”

“I'll talk with her. You won't tell her first, will you?”

“No, I won't say anything, J.J. You told me in confidence.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Mr. Lawrence.”

When he held out a grease-stained hand, Matt reached for it.

He wondered when J.J. would tell Kerry about his predicament and what she would do about it. It seemed like the load of responsibility she carried never got any lighter.

To hear all three boys tell it, Kerry was a paragon. But could anyone be that good?

Maybe she was. Or maybe, like her brothers, she'd inherited her uncle's ability to smooth talk people into believing what she wanted them to believe.

The same ability his father had.

Even the thought of classifying Kerry with his father made him feel guilty. That guilt provided incontrovertible evidence he couldn't ignore about the truths he'd tried hard to deny, ever since he'd met her: anytime he came near Kerry, his guard slipped. His emotions—good and bad—ran away with themselves. His logical, orderly, well-planned life turned itself upside down.

He wouldn't let those things happen again. He was intelligent enough to control them—and strong enough to resist her.

And he knew just what to do to prove it.

 

K
ERRY MARCHED ALONG
the pier, deliberately going in the opposite direction from the carousel. She needed to stay away from Matt. It seemed more and more that having him anywhere in her vicinity was enough to do strange things to her mind, her body and her heart.

Though she had learned they were more alike than she'd thought possible, she had to stop letting him get close to her.

She couldn't walk away from her family and let them fend for themselves.

Which made by-the-book, law-abiding Matt Lawrence the worst person in the world for her. The one man she shouldn't think about. The one man she
couldn't
…have feelings for.

She reached the largest building on the pier, a vast barnlike structure with wooden pocket doors. They'd had a problem with the electricity in here, and Carl still had his volunteers
working on some of the rewiring. Now that they'd all left for the day, she'd grabbed her flashlight to make an inspection.

She slipped through a door left ajar and turned on her light. Eerie shadows climbed the walls and scuttled across the channel of water that snaked its way through the darkness. Cobwebs drooped from the rafters overhead.

Footsteps echoed behind her. She turned to find Matt standing in the doorway.

“Oh,” she said.
Brilliant.
She hadn't seen him in hours, and that was the best she could do?

“I saw you come in here and wanted to let you know I recommended the boys go home to shower.”

“Did they get a bit dirty?”

“Do pigs like to wallow?”

She laughed. It echoed, and she winced.

He looked around the space. “What did you call this the other day?”

“The tunnel of love,” she replied.

“Yeah, right.
Haunted house
would describe things better.” He chuckled, and the deep sound seemed to reverberate through the building—and through her. His face, half in darkness, made him a shadowy figure. Her heart skipped a beat.

“This place doesn't look like much,” he remarked.

Getting a stranglehold on her clipboard, she said softly, “Matt, why are you so determined to find fault in everything you see here? Why won't you give anything a try?”

One side of his mouth quirked up. “You're wrong, there, Kerry Anne. There's something I'm willing to try.” He moved closer, his eyes twinkling in the glow from her flashlight. He took the light, clicked it off and set it on a support beam in the wall near them. Now, he was even more shadowed. A mystery man, half dark, half light.

She realized she'd seen him that way all along.

A ruthless lawyer, out to get Uncle Bren.

And a good man, her hero, out to save the world.

He took the clipboard from her, placed it beside her flashlight and turned back. Her eyes adjusted slightly to the reduced light, aided by the sunshine that filtered through the space between the slightly open doors behind him. She saw the outline of his body, so much taller than hers, of his shoulders, so broad, and of his head, now tilted down toward her. He slipped one arm around her, not pulling her closer, just holding her, leaving the next step up to her.

Her mouth went dry. Her empty fingers tingled. She could step back, pull away. Or she could take advantage of what might be her last time with him.

She twined her shaking fingers in the folds of his shirt.

As he tilted his head still farther, she tipped her chin up. Their mouths bumped, brushed, then found each other in the gloom.

Only the two of them. Together.

Forget families. Responsibilities. Trouble.

Forget everything but Matt.

There was something freeing about kissing him in the almost complete darkness, as if being unable to see allowed her only to feel, to block out her inhibitions and to quiet all her fears.

He tightened his arm around her, trapping her hands. She flattened her fingers against his chest. His heart pounded beneath her palms. When she ran her hands upward, she felt the twin pulses in his neck. When she cupped her hands behind his head, fingers interlocking, he groaned against her mouth.

He grasped her upper arms and held her steady, at the same time taking a half step back. Their bodies parted, their mouths the last to break contact.

With a gasp, she came to her senses—though her jumbled emotions didn't make any sense at all.

“Think we're done here,” Matt murmured.

I'm finished, for sure,
she thought.

“I think you're right,” she said.

She kept her eyes tightly closed, feeling a hot flush rushing through her, rising to her neck and cheeks. Kissing Matt again was the worst thing that could have happened.

No. That wasn't true.
Enjoying
kissing Matt again was the worst thing that could have happened.

Oh, but she
had
enjoyed it….

He cleared his throat. Loudly.

She opened her eyes, blinking in the light. It seemed brighter than before. The first time they'd kissed, she'd heard bells. Now she was seeing lights? The man was a hero, but surely he didn't have magical powers!