The Summer He Came Home (20 page)

“Michael John O’Rourke, don’t be rude. Stay where you are.”
Please
don’t go toward the bedrooms.

She turned back to Sharon, denial on her lips, but dropped any pretense of lying almost immediately. The woman was staring at her with an all-knowing look, her eyes doing a quick once-over from the top of Maggie’s disheveled hair to the bottom of her fancy painted toes.

“But is he here?” Michael asked.

“He stopped by to help me with something.”

Was
that
a
snort?

She eyed Sharon closely.

“Help you with what?”

Oh God, was her own seven-year-old going to put her through the ringer?

“A plumbing issue.”
Seriously? That’s the first thing that comes to mind?
She cringed as the words escaped her mouth and glanced at Sharon.
Oka
y,
that was definitely a snort.

“Hey, Michael, I wasn’t expecting to see you, buddy.” Cain strode in the room fully dressed—thank God—though his attire was definitely dressy for an early-morning call. Of course Michael and his little friend would never know the difference, but Sharon sure as hell did.

Maggie may as well have taken out an ad or rented a billboard: Yes, I Had Sex with Cain Black Last Night.

Cain turned to Tommy’s mother and offered his hand. “Nice to meet you, Sharon, isn’t it? I knew your husband from high school, but you’re not from around here, right?”

“Oh no.” Sharon giggled like a schoolgirl.

Maggie watched a host of emotions flicker across the woman’s face.
Unbelievable.
Give the man five seconds and he could turn anyone to mush.

“I met Roger in college. I’m originally from Detroit.” Her smile vanished and she turned to Maggie. “Which is why I’m here. We had to cut our camping excursion short. I got a phone call, and my father’s ill, so Roger and I are heading to Waterford, which is where he’s in the hospital. I was hoping maybe Tommy would be able to stay here with Michael. I don’t have any details about my father other than they rushed him in an hour ago.”

“Of course.” Maggie nodded. “I have a client this afternoon, but I’ll figure something out.”

“Thank you so much, Maggie.” The relief was evident in her voice. “I’ll call you later when I know what’s going on, but either Roger or I will be back for Tommy. I just don’t know when.”

Maggie followed Sharon out onto the porch. “Don’t worry about it. He’ll be fine.”

“Tommy, you be good for Maggie, all right?” Sharon yelled back into the house.

The boys disappeared, and Cain followed the women outside. He leaned against the porch railing, and she felt his gaze on her as she walked Sharon to her car. Luke was outside, ready to head out for the day, his burly frame draped in the dark colors that the EMT officers wore. He avoided looking in her direction even as he backed out of his driveway. And nearly ran into the ditch.

Luke’s tires squealed as he peeled down the street, and her brow furled in irritation.

She glanced back at Cain. His face was split wide in a grin, one that managed to increase her irritation while making her hot and fluttery at the same time.

Maggie sighed inwardly.

In the harsh light of day, her simple world had just ramped up to complicated.

“What are you now, a professional babysitter?”

Cain glanced up and had to shade his eyes from the sun as he shrugged. “Just helping Maggie out.”

Jake dropped his butt into the chair beside him and spread his long legs out on the dock. It was early afternoon. The sun was a brilliant ball of fire, and the heat was intense.

“Where’s Mac?”

“He needed to scan and email some documents back to his office in New York, so he went to town, the library, I think.” Cain was on the dock adjacent to the boathouse, his tall frame in shadow as the boys played in the water, roughing around and generally making a lot of noise.

“So…” Jake cracked a smile. “How’d it go last night with Maggie?”

Cain set his guitar beside his chair and shrugged. “It was good.”

“Good.” Jake repeated.

“I had a really good time.”

“That’s it. Just good.”

“Yup.”

“That’s all you’re gonna share.”

Cain’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah”—his eyes narrowed—“it is.”

Jake’s mouth opened wide. “Holy shit.”

“What?” Cain settled back into his chair.

“Man, are you in trouble.”

“Trouble?” He grabbed his guitar again and strummed a few chords. “How so?”

Jake stretched his arms out and rested them behind his head. “This girl means something to you, and that, my friend, means trouble. You crossed the sacred line of just sex. You’re now in the land of sex with consequence.”

“Since when did you become so damn cynical?”

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, it’s an observation. I’m just saying, the little redhead obviously means more than a quick lay to you. But she comes with baggage, in case you weren’t looking past that tight little body and mess of red hair.”

“Baggage,” he said drily.

“A kid.”

Cain frowned. He didn’t like the analogy. He glanced at Jake, but the soldier was focused on the boys. Michael was wrestling at the edge of the water, his buddy Tommy in a headlock, as the two of them struggled to get the upper hand. They rolled over and both went under, and a few choice words that neither one of their mothers would ever want to hear followed them down.

“God, they seem just like us.” Jake sighed and rolled his shoulders.

“Yeah.”

“You ever think about having kids?”

Cain stopped playing. He glanced at Jake and set the guitar down once more. To say he was surprised at the turn in conversation would have been an understatement.

“No, never.” He scratched the stubble along his jaw. “Natasha wanted one before the ink had dried on our marriage license, but I was dead set against it.” He kept his eyes on the boys. “God, if we’d had a child together, it would have been a disaster.” He eyed his friend closely. “You?”

Jake’s face was hard. “Nah. That’s one hell of a commitment, which is why…”

“Why what?” Something was up. “What the hell’s going on, Jake?”

Jake scowled. “Raine wants to have a kid.”

“A kid.” Cain let that settle a bit. This was serious shit.

“A goddamn kid.” Jake shook his head. “She’s clearly nuts.”

Cain couldn’t lie. He was shocked. “Raine wants a baby? With who?”

Jake ignored his question. “The girl can’t even look after a fucking cat. How the hell is she going to raise a kid on her own?”

“Back the truck up.” Cain swung his legs over the side of his chair. “Who the hell is she having a kid with?”

“Jesse.”

Cain was dumbfounded and confused.

“Jesse froze his junk before we shipped out last time. It’s all he talked about”—he snorted—“having a kid with Raine. He made me promise that if anything happened to him, I’d look after her.” Jake shook his head. “It’s like he knew he wasn’t coming back, and he just dumped this crap on me anyway.”

“Shit.” Cain didn’t know what else to say.

“Exactly.” Jake exhaled, his eyes still on the boys.

“Is that why you’re not going back to Afghanistan?”

Something changed then. The energy around his friend darkened. Jake’s hands were clenched, his body no longer relaxed. The eyes that turned to Cain were flat—emotionless.

“I’m not going back because I’d be a detriment to my unit. The shit that happens over there, it changes you. Makes you crazy. Do stupid things.”

Cain didn’t push it. He wasn’t clear on the circumstance surrounding Jesse’s death. All he knew was what Mac had confided. That Jake had witnessed Jesse’s death, but that was about it. His friend was in a dark place, and considering his feelings for Raine, he wasn’t hopeful Jake would snap out of it anytime soon.

“So, what are you going to do?” he asked instead.

The boys ran along the beach like crazy people, their hands weapons as they pretended to shoot each other. Michael glanced over, and the smile on the kid’s face did something to Cain. His chest swelled with an emotion that was becoming a little too familiar. It was warm and fuzzy and
protective
all at once.

Shit. This must be some of that consequence Jake was talking about.

“I gotta do something. All this downtime is driving me crazy. Too much time to think.” He paused and then muttered, “Too much time to remember.” Jake looked out over the lake. “I’m thinking of diving into the construction project for the new football field and stadium. They want a state-of-the-art facility, and Dad’s company won the bid.” He shrugged. “I’ve always been a hands-on kind of guy. Mac might be on board to design the thing.”

“That’s not what I meant.”

Jake glanced his way, his eyes narrowed, his mouth tight. “I didn’t think so,” he said drily. “I don’t know what I’m going to do about Raine. She’s stubborn as hell, and personally I think she’s crazy to even consider having a baby on her own.” His eyes darkened, and a bleak look crept into his features. “I don’t know if I can be the one to be there for her.”

Why the hell would Jesse put that on his brother? He had to have known Jake’s feelings for Raine ran deep. Or maybe that
was
the reason.

“What about you?” Jake asked, the heaviness of the moment gone. It was eerie how the man could switch gears so quickly. “You gonna tell me what the hell Barcelona was about?” Jake stared at him expectantly. Cain saw no reason to sugarcoat.

“Blake was fucking Natasha.”

“Shit, that’s low.”

“Yeah.”

“You should have given him the boot after decking him.”

Cain leaned back. “Agreed.” He paused. “She called a few hours ago—Nat.”

“What did she want?”

Cain shook his head, still surprised as hell himself. “Said she’d made a mistake about Blake and the divorce. All of it. According to her, I should give her a second chance, ’cause apparently we’re soulmates, she just didn’t know it till now.”

Jake grimaced. “I hope you told her where to go.”

“I did.”

“Good. So what are your plans?”

Plans. The future. Cain had no clue.

“I’m here at least until after the Fourth of July. Not due back in the studio until the fall.”

“So, you’re heading back to LA after the big”—Jake made quotation marks with his fingers—“stadium show?”

Cain’s thoughts turned to Maggie. Was he? Could he leave just like that? Did he even want to? The idea left him more than a little unsettled.

“I’m not sure what my plans are. I need to get some new material written or…” He ran fingers along his temple and sighed.

“Or what?”

“I’m screwed…the band is screwed.”

Jake grinned and slapped him on the shoulder. “Well, you better get your ass in gear and get writing.”

If
only
it
were
that
easy.

“Cain! Look what I found.” They both turned as Michael came running up the beach, a large bass dangling from his hand. The little guy stopped inches from them, his small chest heaving and his face flush with excitement. He pushed wet curls from his face with his free hand and shoved his prize up high. “Look how big it is! I never saw a fish like this. What kind is it?”

“Dude, that would be a
dead
fish.” Jake chuckled.

Michael frowned, wrinkled his nose, and giggled. “I know its dead. It stinks worse than Shelby when she’s wet.”

“Who’s Shelby?” Jake teased. “I sure hope that’s not your girlfriend.”

“Nope.” He giggled. “I like Kristen Blake. Shelby is Luke’s dog,” Michael answered.

“Who’s Luke?”

“Jansen. He’s Maggie’s neighbor.” Cain offered.

Jake’s eyebrows rose questioningly. “Jansen…fullback Jansen from football?”

“That’d be the one.”

“He’s a paramedic, and he gets to drive a big red and white truck.” Michael inserted. “He likes my mom.”

“Really?” Jake’s smile was now wide.

“Yep, but I don’t think she wants him to be her boyfriend. She likes Cain.” The kid grinned shyly.

Jake snorted, but Cain ignored him. “It’s a bass, Michael.”

“It’s really cool.” Michael waved its scaly hide in the air. The dead eyes looked like round black buttons that had been dried out. “Bigger than the ones we caught the other day.”

“Maybe we should toss it up into the bush.” Cain tried to hide his grin but wasn’t totally successful.

“Sure.” Michael yelled to his friend, “Tommy, we got a mission!”

Cain watched the two boys scamper off toward trees that surrounded the cottage and picked up his guitar once more. His fingers ran along the strings, picking out an upbeat melody. The acoustic sang beneath his touch, and he changed the rhythm slightly, incorporating a bluesy feel with some heavy fills.

“That something new?”

He nodded. “Yeah, been working on it for few days.”

Jake sat back into his chair. “Sounds good, so what’s the issue?”

“I’ve always been the melody guy, ya know? I just…I don’t do lyrics.”

“You’ve got to suck it up and focus.” Jake’s voice was matter-of-fact.

“Yeah.”

“You’ll get it done.”

The two of them settled into a certain kind of silence that only they could enjoy. It was full of ease and a comfort that had been years in the making.

Cain grabbed some snacks and watched the two young boys indulge to the point he knew he’d be in trouble. He somehow doubted Maggie would be impressed with the chips and soda he’d provided.

Mac rolled in around three thirty, and Cain jumped up. He wanted to pick up Maggie when she was done at work. She’d be finished around four, and he intended to get there before she hopped the bus.

He pulled a T-shirt over his head and slipped into a pair of sandals. The woman had been stubborn this morning, insisting she’d take the bus as always—refusing a ride—but he was determined she ride home in style.

She was at Rebecca’s, and he knew exactly where the house was located. According to Jake, she and Bradley Hayes had bought the house at the end of Maple Avenue. It had once belonged to the mayor of Crystal Lake and in its day had been a real showpiece. He was quite sure with Hayes’s family money it had been restored to its original splendor.

His mouth tightened at the thought of Maggie working for Bradley Hayes. He’d always been a dickhead, and his wife, Rebecca Stringer, was a grade-A bitch. He didn’t want to think about the abuse Maggie sucked up in order to survive. She was right. He couldn’t relate to her day-to-day life.

His gaze wandered to Michael. Years ago, if someone got in his face, he’d told them off and moved on. End of story. There was no groveling, no sucking up in order to make some cash.

A sobering thought, that. He wasn’t sure he was a big enough person to deal with some of the crap she did.

“I’m off to grab Maggie. You guys watch the boys till I’m back?”

Mac saluted him. “Sure can do.”

“Not me, I’m outta here.” Jake stood and stretched out his legs. “I feel like I’ve been standing still for days. I’m gonna hit the gym, burn off some energy. What are you guys doing later? Thought I’d swing by the Coach House. Ran into Salvatore the other day, and he said Texas Willie’s in town.”

“Texas Willie?” Cain laughed. “Tell me how it’s possible that son of a bitch is still alive.”

Jake shook his head. “I have no clue. I’m sure his brain is fried, though it hasn’t affected his guitar playing any.” He shrugged. “According to Sal.”

“I’m in.” Mac threw a football toward the water. “Let’s play fetch, boys.” Michael and Tommy took off at a run, their legs and arms pumping hard.

Cain started toward his truck. “You guys mind if I bring Maggie?” He didn’t wait around to hear their answer. He didn’t care. Texas Willie, his buddies, and his girl. Sounded pretty damn good to him.

Fifteen minutes later he pulled up to Rebecca Hayes’s house and cut the engine. The driveway was a fair size for in town, with majestic oak trees lining either side, providing enough shade to keep the blacktop as dark as the day it had been paved. He supposed the leaves were a bitch in the fall, but that was a small sacrifice.

He took a moment to savor the place. The grandiose style had been refurbished to suit the period in which it was built, the late 1800s, and Cain would give credit where it was due. Bradley had done a great job. It was one of the oldest homes in Crystal Lake, and when he was a teen, it had been an abandoned wreck—a flophouse for drunken parties and
the
go-to place to bring your girlfriend for sex. Well, that and the Wyndham place.

He exited his truck and glanced around. There was some new money on the street. Most of the homes were in great shape, and he noticed a lot of minivans and SUVs in the driveways. The sound of children’s laughter echoed from someone’s backyard.

It was…nice.

He turned. A brightly colored ball rolled toward him with a little girl fast behind it. He scooped it up and threw it to her.

“Thanks.” With a quick smile she darted back to where she’d come from.

A male voice cut through the gentle quiet, and he turned back toward the house. Bradley was walking down the drive toward him, waving furiously, as if they were long-lost buddies. Cain gritted his teeth and nodded to him as he moved up the drive.

“Cain! What the hell? This is a surprise. Come in for a beer.” Hayes was dressed in swim trunks and nothing else. His ruddy complexion was in dire need of sunblock, and sweat beaded his forehead. He’d grown soft, his body reflective of a life of leisure. Bradley looked just like his father, down to the slightly thinning hair and accompanying paunch. “Rebecca didn’t say anything about you swinging by.”