Lucky 13 (Deadlines & Diamonds) (9 page)

And just like that, it was over. Situation diffused. The two started to talk about the upcoming basketball tryouts at Matt’s school and girls and how Matt liked his classes. As the smile spread over her face and love filled her heart, Shayne realized if any other man had spoken to her son the way Ricky just had, she’d have gone all Mama-Bear on
his
ass!

The conversation droned. She listened to them, feeling the mutual respect they had for each other. That’s what the difference was. This man actually liked her son. He hadn’t scolded him because he wanted to be Big Man on Campus.

Matt had done something wrong. Ricky
corrected him. End of story.
  

Panic pricked at her because she accepted the help. Matt wasn’t ever outright disrespectful, but sometimes he did get lippy, defiant. Ricky’s reprimand didn’t get so much as a batted eyelash.

Shayne jerked out of her reverie as cups of soda clashed with the hard table top.

“Sprite, two Diet Cokes and a regular Coke for you.”
Teresa
only had eyes for Ricky. “’Cause I know you don’t drink the diet crap.” Ricky opened his mouth, but she raised her hand. “Don’t worry, I didn’t spit in any of them. Your mom just got back. She’ll be out in a minute.”

***

She’d given birth to him for hell’s sake!
However, as
Elena
Santiago pushed her way through the swinging kitchen door and walked around the bar, Ricky’s stomach dropped to his Nikes.

His mother’s face lit up, her eyes twinkling when they landed on Shayne and Matt. She ran her hands over her apron an
d tightened the bow
. He’d never noticed how thin she was, delicate with tiny bones, maybe because
,
to him
,
his mother came from tough stock.

Her parents had been immigrants looking for a better life. They’d worked hard and taught their daughter to do the same. In turn, she’d passed the legacy on to her sons. One of them, at least, if
Eddie
’s opinion was to be believed.

“
Enrique
!”

He stood to receive her hug.

She barely reached his chin, her hair catching in the scruff of his beard. A grin split her lips when she turned to Shayne and stuck out her hand, extending it across the table. “I’m
Elena
Santiago and this boy belongs to me.”

“Shayne Xavier.” She smiled and ruffled Matt’s hair. “And
this
boy belongs to me.”

Matt took
Elena
’s hand and shook it gently. “I’m Matt.”

“It’s so nice to meet you both.”
She looked at the sodas they’d barely touched. “Are you hungry?”

“I’m starving!” Matt rubbed at his stomach. “She never feeds me.”

Ricky
chuckl
ed along with his mother. Satisfaction shone in her eyes.
Elena
composed her face, trying to look serious and crossed her arms over her chest. “Stand up, boy.”

Matt did as he’d been instructed, no questions asked.
Elena
stepped up to him, plucked at
the
sleeve of his t-shirt, poked at his belly. She nodded as if she’d solved global warming.

“You’re right. You are wasting away to nothing. Let’s get you something to eat before you turn into dust and blow away.”

Ricky felt a little bad for Matt as he slunk down into the booth while the adults around him laughed. Ricky staunched his chuckles and spoke to his mother. “We’ll take t
hree of the special
.”

She dropped her chin in a nod. “Be right back.”

“What’s the special?”

Ricky shrugged. “I don’t know, but it’ll be good whatever it is. Mama’s a great cook.”

“Not better than
my
mama.”

Ricky loved the defensive tone Matt took on and tried to stay stoic. “I can’t say one way or the other.”

“I’m tellin’ you.” Matt leaned forward, resting his f
orearms on the table. Shayne bit
her lip to keep her grin to herself.

“I gotta go with what I know, my man.” Ricky matched Matt’s pose. “I’ve not tasted your mama’s cooking.”

Matt took on the expression of person slapped by a salmon, his eyes bugging, his mouth gaping. Composing himself, he whipped around and looked at Shayne. “Mom! He’s right. We gotta cook him dinner. Well, not really
we
‘cause I can’t cook anything but toast
—and grilled cheese sandwiches. When are you gonna cook dinner for him? Tomorrow?” He nodded, satisfied. “Yeah, tomorrow should work.”

“Hold on there, chief.”
Shayne’s reproof came in the form of a hand on his arm. Ricky cleared his throat and pretended his pride didn’t sting. Her fingers came to rest on his forearm and she smiled. “We’ll do dinner soon, but it doesn’t have to be decided right now.”
She squeezed gently. “You okay with that?”

“Yep. Totally okay.” He wasn’t sure he’d convinced himself, much less her, but the words were spoken and he wasn’t about to go all Nancy and take them back.

Thankfully, his mother stepped out of the kitchen, a large tray balanced on her shoulder. She approached the table, grinning like a fool. Plates slid into place and Ricky frowned when the fourth one landed. He rolled his eyes when Mama sat down next to him.

“Slide over,
Enrique
.” She raised her brows and looked pointedly at Shayne. “I’m sure she doesn’t bite.”

“She bit me once.” Matt lifted his fork as Shayne gawked at him.

“I did not.” Color flooded her cheeks and Ricky leaned in to check for steam coming out of her ears.

“Yeah, you did. I can’t believe you don’t remember, Mom.” He turned his attention on his audience. “I think I was like three or something. I was little. I bit
Mikey
.
” He waved his fork to the right
, emphasizing his next words. “He lived next door. Anyway…
I bit him and to teach me a lesson, she bit me. Not hard, but I never forgot it. Ever. I’ll never bite anyone ever, ever again.”

Story finished, he sank his fork into the enchiladas
Mama’s
was famous for. 

***

Holy Crap!

Had her son really just thrown her under the bus like that?

Heat blossomed in her body, making her sweat glands go turbo. Shayne debated using her napkin to mop up the extra moisture before it started running down her arms to pool on the seat and soaking Ricky’s jeans.

The idea of wet denim clinging to his muscular legs and butt held merit. However, the
ew!
factor in this particular scenario negated it.

Fighting the urge to melt into a puddle herself and slide down the bench, slithering across the floor and out the door to safety, Shayne stabbed a tomato. Instead of her son. She forked
it into her mouth and moaned.

“Are these homegrown?”

Elena
nodded and took a bite of her enchilada. She chewed, swallowed. “Yes. It’s my hobby.”

“Mama has a huge garden.”

Shayne’s mood lightened. “
Really?”

“It’s not that huge.” She lifted one slender shoulder. “Almost an acre.”

“An acre?” Shayne took a small sip of her soda. “I’d call that huge. What do you grow?”

Elena
finished chewing. “A little bit of everything.”

“We rotate the seasons to keep something growing all year round.” Ricky forked up a bite.

“If you’d like to see it, you’re welcome anytime.”

“I would love to
.”

Ricky smiled at her. “I’ll bring her by real soon,
Mama
.
”

“This is hmm—” Matt put his hand to his full mouth, his jaws double-timing it. “Sorry. This is really good.”

“Thank you.”
Pride showed
on
Elena
’s face, her delicate cheekbones tinting pink. She really was a pretty woman. Shayne would guess her to be nearing sixty. Her black hair contained a few silver highlights, notating her years. Wrinkles around her mouth and eyes marked her sense of humor. But her eyes, the ones so similar to Ricky’s, held the key to
the depths of this woman
. Her kindness reflected in every twinkle.

Shayne suddenly felt a kinship with
Elena
Santiago. She didn’t understand the reaction, but was certainly grateful for it. In a very short time, she’d developed feelings
for
Elena
’s son. Deep feelings. Scare-the-shit-out-of-her kind of feelings. Having his mother in her corner certainly couldn’t hurt matters.
Or…
it might make it worse.

9

Ricky knew Chick-
Flick Hell awaited him. Shayne stood at the Redbox, her finger swiping t
he choices away. She shifted her stance
, bit her lip, her index finger poised over a movie. A quick glance at the car, a quicker jerk of the head and she dismissed yet another flick.

Matt’s head popped up between the two front seats. “You must really love her?”

“Huh?”

“Dude! You know she’s coming back with a
movie we’re gonna hate.” Matt watched his mom. “Crap! That’s one of her favorites. ‘
Aaaaas yoooou wiiiiish’
.”

Ricky choked on his laugh. “Say what you will, kid, but I will glad
ly
be Wesley to your mother’s Princess Buttercup any day.”

“Yeah, okay.” Matt snorted through a grin and slunk into the rear seat. His seatbelt clicked back into place.

The door opened and Shayne climbed in. Ricky flipped the air conditioner back up to high to offset the heatwave that entered with her. He put the car into drive and pulled out onto the road.

“Find something good?”

She held up the movie he knew she’d gotten. “There wasn’t really a great selection at t
his kiosk.” She shrugged. “
Princess Bride
,
one of my favorites.”

Matt’s long, drawn out groan emphasized his opinion. “
Take me home.” Shayne opened her mouth, but didn’t get a word out before Matt put a hand on the back of her seat and leaned forward to plead his case. “I’m a big boy, Mom. I’d rather play video games than watch that dumb movie.
Again
. Besides we can’t watch it at our house because we only have the one ginormous TV and that’s where I plan to play my video games.”

The kid’s matter-of-fact, I’ve-got-it-all-figured-out tone made Ricky
snicker
. “Well, then, I guess we’ve got a plan.”

“Yep. You guys will watch the movie at your house and I’ll play video games at ours.”

Shayne didn’t say anything, just concentrated on her cuticles. Ricky took her hand, the
DVD
clanking to the floorboard.

“You okay with that plan?”

“Do I have a choice?” She closed her eyes
, leaned her head against the headrest
. Her narrow nostrils flared with a deep inhale.

He squeezed her fingers and waited for her to look at him. “You always have a choice. Veto it and we make a new plan. No protests.”

“But—”

“No. Protests.”

The only gripe came in the form of a grunt from the backseat.

A slow smile captured the corners of her lips, lifting them upward. She sighed. “I think it’s a great plan.”

Thanks to the rear
view mirror, Ricky watched as elation replaced disappointment. 

She twisted in her seat to ask Matt, “Maybe we should stop and
grab you some dinner on the way?
”

He used the fist, elbow bent combo to accentuate the “Yes!”

“Where to, sport?”

Matt didn’t pause, simply sputtered a local burger chain. The name alone made Ricky’s gut arm itself. He wasn’t sure he’d ever eaten there, and didn’t plan to. But with Matt in his life, it looked like he’d have to frequent the joint. G
ood thing they had a drive-thru.

***

After getting
enough food to feed an army of adolescents whose taste buds couldn’t
differentiate
filet mi
g
non from roadkill,
Ricky headed toward Shayne’s.

The stench of grease w
afted
up
from the backseat. Ricky tried to hold his breath until his vision went wonky. He resorted to short puffs, sounding like a
hyperventilating Saint Bernard. Finally, he cranked the A
C, rolled down all the windows
and
opened the sun roof. H
e’d have stuck his head out too
if he hadn’t been afraid of catching bugs in his teeth.

“Hey!” Matt yelled through their wind tunnel. “What the heck?” 

“Your food
reeks
!”

The crinkling of the bag shot Ricky’s adrenaline into panic mode
as visions of food debris danced through his head
. He whirled
around in his seat
so fast, the car swerved. Matt held up a fry.

Ricky’s gag reflex kicked in when Matt tossed the fry in his mouth and made a production of chewing it. “You don’t know what you’re missin’.”

“Ah, Ricky?
”
Shayne said with an edge.

He turned around to focus on the road just in time to watch the yellow light turn red. He scrubbed his face, finishing the cleanse with a plow of his fingers through his hair. “If I find one French fry back there you’re going to detail my whole car.”

“What if you find three?”

“It’ll be pretty damn hard to play those video games with three broken fingers.”

Shayne’s smile turned somber. “Yeah, so don’t drop more than ten or we’ll have to start on your toes.”

“Mom.”

She gathered
the lashi
ng strands of her hair and tied
it into a knot. “You started it, Matt.”

The kid didn’t say much the rest of the drive, except to announce they were driving by his school and pointing out the corridor that housed his locker.

They pulled into the parking garage and eased into a parking space. Before the engine finished purring, Matt was out of the car, bag in hand, heading toward the elevators.

“I won’t wait up.” He held up his Coke cup in a pseudo wave. “Goodnight.”

Ricky hadn’t intended to just dum
p him off. Neither had Shayne.
“You’re kidding, right?”

“I know the way home, Mom.” He pressed the
up
button. “Have fun, Ricky. Enjoy the movie.”

Shayne closed her door and headed toward her son. Ricky didn’t let any moss grow, he
double-timed it over.

Matt rolled his eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

“No.” Shayne put her hand on his shoulder. “But you’re not a man yet, either.”

Ricky expected a protest to come or maybe a reference to the height difference between mother and son. Yet nothing came.
They got onto the elevator. Matt pushed the button for their floor, and it jerked the begin
ning
of its ascent.

Matt leaned against the faux wood wall, crossing his ankles. Shayne stood next to Ricky
—l
eaving
way
too much space between them.
He rested against the paneled wall
behind him and folded his arms. H
is tattoo flexed and he thought of his mom. She hadn’t been happy at his idea of a tribute to her. In the beginning. Now? Well, he wasn’t sure how she felt about it now. It’d been on his
arm
for nearly eight years. Whether she accepted it or not, she certainly didn’t bust his balls over it anymore.

The elevator doors opened.
Matt
shot out and
hurried down the wide hallway. He slid a key into the lock, disappeared inside and left the door wide. By the time Ricky and Shayne made it through the doorway, Matt had pulled a David Copperfield.

“Matt?” Shayne closed the door and set her purse on the table next to it. “Matt, where’d you go?”

“I’m fine, Mom,” came the muffled reply from down the hall.

“Oh.” She turned back to Ricky
and they both pretended the kid wasn’t in the bathroom
. “So, what do you want to do now that we don’t have an audience?”

Well, shit. What did she think he wanted to do? He wanted to get real up close and personal. He inched toward her, closing the minimal distance they’d had between them, and leaned in for a sweet kiss. Her eyes drifted closed
, her hand landed on his waistline.

Her soft moan preceded her retreat. “I think we’re on the same wave length for the rest of our evening.” She blushed. “Oh crap. That didn’t come out right. I don’t think we’re gonna—”

“
You can leave now.”

Ricky jumped back from Shayne. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, trying to hide what else was happening in his pants.

She pressed her hand to her lips, letting it slip down to rest on her pink tinged throat. “You okay?”

“
Yep,” he and Matt answered in unison.

Shayne smiled, but then her
brows crinkled
when she asked Matt,
“
You sure?
”

“Yeah.”

“
Real sure?
”

“Seriously, Mom, I had to take a dump, okay? I’m fine.” He opened the bag and began to unload his dinner. “I had to make room.” He pulled out a bar stool and sat down. “You kids have fun.”

Laughing, Shayne approached her son, kissed his cheek, which he promptly rubbed. “I won’t be late.”

He shrugged. “Won’t matter to me. I’m gonna just text the guys and let them know I’ll be playing tonight.”

“If I’m not home by ten, I want you to sign off and go to bed.”

Matt glanced over at the clock on the microwave. “Only three hours?”

“Three hours of video games is more than enough.” He
opened his mouth to protest. “U
h-uh. One more word and you don’t get to play tomorrow.”

His mouth closed.

She kissed his cheek again. “I love you.”

“Love you, too, Mom. Night, Ricky.”

They crossed to the doorway. Shayne picked up her purse and opened the door.

“Hey, Mom.” Matt stood in the archway to the kitchen.

“Yeah?”

“
Have fun stormin’ the castle
.”

“
Ya think it’ll work
?” Ricky
quoted the next line
.

Shayne laughed
, playfully slapped at his chest. “Only if you’re very, very lucky.
”

Once out in the hall, Ricky stopped Shayne, crowding her with his body until her back met the wall. He kissed her, then looked right in her eyes. “I am always lucky, Shayne Xavier. That’s why I wear
lucky thirteen
.”

***

By the time they pulled into Ricky’
s garage, Shayne felt like a mass of
exposed nerve
s
plugged
into a two-twenty
outl
et. Every part of her buzzed and tingled and ached. It’d been a long time since she’d had sex. A
very long time
. A one-time-deal she’d rather forget.

The garage door
rumbled toward the ground
and Ricky opened his
car
door.

“Wait.” The word burst out of her mouth, surprising them both.

He closed the door again. “
No big deal. We’ll
go to a movie instead.”

Disappointment slashed across his features, cutting her like the sharpest blade. She caught his hand as he reached for the keys. “I don’t want to go to a movie.
”

Gathering her coura
ge, she crawled
over the console to straddle his lap. She reached down to the side of his seat and started pressing buttons. His seat moved all the way back and then began to recline
. Desire raged in those dark
eyes of his and her throat tightened around her b
eating heart. Before her brain
kicked in and stopped her, she smashed her mouth against his, slipping her tongue through his parted lips.

A mint tinted moan floated
into her mouth. His hands moved
down her back, over her hips
before coming to rest on her ass. He settled her in his lap, connecting all the right parts. She moved against him, the hard heat of his body easy to detect even through
the layers of denim, satin and…
cotton?

Would his boxers be cotton? The fleeting thought
drove her fingers to the buttons of his shirt. One by one, she opened them, driving them both insane by the slow process. She paused for a moment, her palms flat against his tanned pectorals. Their eyes met and she lost her breath. His came in tiny, controlled puffs.

She maintained eye contact as she feathered her fingertips over his washboard abs
,
tickling toward his waistband. She tugged his shirt from his pants and started with the buckle of his belt. When she popped the button of his jeans, he sucked in a breath that didn’t come back out. Rough hands caught hers.