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With my brothers.
Half-brothers.
Ben
“Plans. She has plans. Can you believe that?” I shook my head in disbelief for at least the fifth time since Xander and I walked into The Mayflower. “Plans. What does that even mean?”
Xander took a long sip of his beer and let out a long, deep sigh. “In my professional opinion as a law enforcement officer and a man of keep observational skills, I’d say it means that Joss has plans.”
I grunted in frustration and shook my head. “Duh. But what kinds of plans? And with who?” She hadn’t stuck around long enough for me to get any details. “She was vague on purpose, right?”
He shrugged. “Or maybe, hear me out now, she didn’t tell you because it is none of your business. Besides, why do you care so much when you didn’t even want to be seen with her in public?”
I glared at him. “Who told you that?” My gaze narrowed suspiciously. “Mara.”
Xander held his hands up in a defensive gesture. “Nobody told me anything, well no one but you. That French place is great for a date but it’s even better for a secret date.”
“Not you too?” Did no one understand. “I have my reasons.”
“And Joss has hers, so just move on. It’s not like you’re ready to commit to her. Publicly.” Xander sighed, shook his head and finished off his beer. “I’m hungry, let’s go grab some pizza.”
“Might as well since I don’t have any plans.” It ate at me that Joss had plans, so much that I couldn’t even bring myself to drop by her house just in case she’d gone back to Time for Love to find her match. I paid for the beers and we walked out into the picture perfect night that was Pilgrim, only tonight it didn’t seem so perfect. “Hey, Mara probably knows about Joss’ plans.”
“Probably,” Xander said, his tone noncommittal.
“Xander.” You’d have to be blind not to notice that something was going on between the two of them, no matter how tight-lipped they both were about it. “You could ask.”
“I could, sure. But we both know Mara isn’t my biggest fan and she values her friendship with Joss.” His blue gaze was solid and sober, which meant Joss’ whereabouts would remain a secret. For now.
“Fine. Let’s grab that pizza.”
“Best four words you’ve said all night.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I waved off his playful but accurate words. “Sorry man, but I’m just going crazy. I thought she would accept my dinner invitation.”
“We all get it wrong sometimes, Ben. Spectacularly wrong.” Xander clapped me on the back and I looked up at him closely, noticing the tight lines around his eyes and mouth, the tension in his jaw.
“Want to talk about it?”
“If there was a point, I’d love to. But it’s hopeless.”
Before I dig further, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I pulled it out and let out a curse. “It’s Mom. She just texted 911.”
Xander’s eyes widened. “I’m parked near Bread Box. Let’s go.”
Pilgrim was a small town but Xander still managed to make it to my childhood home in about four minutes. We both jumped out and raced to the front door, practically knocking it down in our hurry to get to her. “Mom, where are you?”
“In here!” Her voice sounded normal but my mind raced with images of her injured and on her back, broken or worse, bloody.
But none of that had come to pass because Mom was fine. She stood at the stove with a whisk in one hand, the other on her hip. “Mom. You texted 911. That’s an emergency, in case you were wondering.”
She turned slowly, a knowing smile on her face. “This is an emergency,” she said and her gaze slid to the stack of casserole dishes on the small round kitchen table. “I’m curious as hell to know why Joss, your friend, returned my casserole dishes that I made for a special night with a special woman. That is what you said, isn’t it?”
I sighed as my heart beat returned to normal and relief settled over me that she was all right. “Yeah, that’s what I said.”
“Because your emphasis on special is why I spent all day cooking food that I didn’t get to eat.”
“Mom,” I groaned. She was right, I had said all those things.
“Don’t you ‘mom’ me, young man. I want details and I want them now.”
Xander patted his stomach and leaned in to give Mom a kiss on the cheek. “What is smelling so delicious in here, Rita?”
Her green eyes glittered at Xander’s flirtatiousness and I wasn’t even annoyed because he’d just given me a few moments to figure out what to tell my mother. “I’m making my famous Irish Bolognese, but what you smell are the cookies I’ve been baking all day for our girls’ soccer team. We’re selling them at Saturday’s game so when they win, they can get a proper rest before the next two games.” Her pointed gaze slid my way and I groaned.
