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He shrugged. “Yeah, it takes a little getting used to.”
He didn’t dare mention the Irish pizza place. As the sons of the man who owned one of the best Italian restaurants in Chicago, Nick and Mark might feel honor-bound to go over there and raise a little hell.
Getting his cousins’ wives some coffee, and Nick and Mark each a beer, he excused himself to go into the bedroom and call Lindsey. She’d been expecting him to come down by two, and it was now after that.
Since he wasn’t sure how long his family members would stay, he couldn’t tell her what time he’d make it down. He heard the disappointment in her voice, but knew better than to suggest she come up and make it a six-some. Even after all these weeks, she still seemed content to sneak around and keep their relationship strictly between them.
He wasn’t going to be content with that much longer.
They were coming close to D-day...aka, the last day of school. After that, there would be no reason for Lindsey to remain on Wild Boar. Her friend would have the whole summer with her baby, and Lindsey could go back to Chicago and find out where she stood with her job and all the rest of it.
Mike honestly had no idea where he fit into her life, but oh, God, did he hope she wanted him somewhere in it. She hadn’t said it... They still danced around the subject of their relationship being anything other than a sexy affair. But he caught her looking at him sometimes, when they were making love, or just holding hands watching a movie, and he believed she cared for him. She just hadn’t been able to lower those walls enough to admit it yet.
“I’ll call you as soon as I figure out what’s going on and how long they’re staying, okay? I doubt it’ll be overnight—the inn’s booked solid for the holiday weekend.”
“Okay. Have fun with your family. I know you’ve missed them.”
“Actually, right now, you’re the one I miss.”
“You saw me yesterday.”
“Yeah, for breakfast. It’s been over twenty-four hours.”
“Better watch out there, buddy, or somebody will think you’re smitten.”
“If that means they’ll think I’m crazy about you, they’d be right.”
She didn’t respond, but he heard a sweet little sigh, and suspected she was pleased by the comment.
Hey, maybe they were getting somewhere.
Ending the call, he walked out of his bedroom to rejoin the others in his living room. To his surprise, they were not sitting on the couches and chairs where he’d left them. In fact, they were all standing in a semicircle, staring down at something on the floor between them. As soon as he entered, four heads jerked up, four sets of eyes staring at him assessingly.
“What’s going on?”
“I dunno, Mike. Why don’t you tell us?” asked Izzie in her naughtiest voice.
Not getting it, he walked around the back of the couch so he could see what they’d all been gaping at.
“Oh, hell.”
It was the sex wedge. Big, graphic, with bold lettering and a superhot illustration of its versatile uses, the thing would draw anybody’s eye. Considering it was here in his bachelor apartment, and none of his family were aware he’d been dating anyone, it must have been much too interesting to escape notice.
“So?” Noelle asked. “Who is she?”
“Who’s who?”
“Oh, puh-lease,” Izzie said. She pointed to the box again. “If you were lonely and single, this package would contain a blow-up doll. Obviously this is not something you use unless you’ve got somebody to use it with.”
Mike swiped a hand through his hair, embarrassed as hell. What was it with the women in his family that they always got into everybody else’s business?
Nick and Mark exchanged a look and chuckled, obviously having noticed his discomfiture. “You might as well confess,” Mark said. “They’re going to nag you until you do.”
“Where’d you meet her? Does she live here?” Izzie peered around her husband’s shoulder toward the bedroom. “Is she hiding in there?”
“Of course not,” Mike snapped. Throwing himself onto the couch, he admitted, “Her name’s Lindsey. I met her on the ferry, and that’s as much as you need to know.”
Nick cleared his throat.
“Yes?” Mike asked.
“Can I ask just one more thing?”
“What is it?”
“Where’d you get that thing? Because, damn, dude, I want one.”
Izzie did that knuckle-punching thing wives did to their husbands. Nick grinned and rubbed his arm, then threw it over her shoulders and drew her close.
“That’s not appropriate,” she said, sounding all prim.
