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There was no not answering with his mother. Sometimes he thought she spent too much time poking her nose into his and Beck’s business because she had too much time on her hands. She’d given up her job at the local Realtor’s a few years back, and this is what he and his brother had had to deal with ever since.

“Why do you think I spent the night with a lady?” he asked.

“Because Leanne Bruno saw you at the pharmacy, and she said you were buying condoms.”

He frowned. “You’ve got friends spying on me in the pharmacy?” Had his mother officially lost it?

“Of course not.” She rinsed out her mug. “She just happened to be looking for antifungal cream and saw you.”

“I don’t know what disturbs me more. The fact that antifungal cream is located in the same aisle they stock the condoms, or that she saw me there and decided she needed to call you and let you know.”

“She’s the scheduler at the hospital.”

“What the hell does that have to do with me and condoms?” He was irritated and didn’t bother to hide it.

“Lower your voice, Nathan. There’s no nefarious plan. She called to schedule my baby-cuddling session. The fact she s

aw you buying condoms didn’t come up until I asked her about her daughter, Delia.”

His mouth might have fallen open. “Why would Delia Bruno make her mother think about me and condoms?”

“Because Delia has had a crush on you since fourth grade.”

His mother had, in fact, lost her mind, and he didn’t have time to deal with this crap any longer.

“Well, the good news is that I practice safe sex. So that’s a win, isn’t it?” Which, now that he thought about it, he hadn’t done the night before. Not the first time or the second. Definitely not the fourth. Shit. Molly hadn’t said a thing to him about protection, and he’d been focused on other things. So focused that he’d done something he hadn’t since he was a horny sixteen-year-old holed up in his buddy’s boathouse with Julia Davis. Back then, for his troubles, he’d waded through a pregnancy scare and ever since had always used protection.

Until last night.

“What was that?” His mother had said something, but for the life of him, he didn’t know what it was. Thank God her phone rang, because when she picked up, he ignored the finger in the air that told him to hold on. He made his escape and jogged up to his room, making sure he was in the shower when she left.

Nate pulled on a faded T-shirt that belonged to his father, a pair of shorts he found at the back of the closet in his old bedroom, and slipped into a pair of work boots from the mudroom. Beck was ripping out a deck, and he’d promised to help. A couple hours of good, hard physical labor would go a long way in clearing his head and alleviating the stress his mom caused. He knew she wasn’t done with the questions, and even though she was so far off base, he was still floored.

Delia Bruno. Really? She was a nice girl and all, but she was nothing like Molly.

With a smile, he grabbed his phone on the way out and was just about to send Molly an emoji when he stopped cold. Aside from the fact it was too much, and that Molly would probably take one look at it and roll her eyes, since when had he ever sent anyone an emoji?

Nate pocketed his cell, hopped into his truck, and headed for the south side of town. The McBrides had a place at the bend, just where River Road became rural. An old farmhouse, the land had been sold off piece by piece over the years and new development had sprung up around it. It was set back from the road a couple hundred feet, and he pulled up behind his brother’s truck. Nate found him out back, already working up a sweat.

He picked up the second crowbar and got to work.

It took them a good solid day to rip out the deck and clear away all the old lumber. By the time they got back to Beck’s, it was close to four, and Nate barely had time to have a beer with his brother before showering and heading back out again. He’d told Molly he’d meet her at her place for five thirty.

Nate took a good long draw from the cold bottle in his hand and swiped at the corner of his mouth as he sank into one of the Adirondack chairs set up on Beck’s boathouse dock. His brother’s property was amazing. Set up high on a bluff that overlooked the lake, it boasted two acres of land with nearly five hundred feet of shoreline. The house was a cabin built in the 1800s, and it needed a lot of work, as in it needed to be ripped back to the original frame. But the boathouse was new and sported three lifts, room for a couple of Seadogs, and living space overtop. At the moment, it was where Beck laid his head as he slowly worked on the cabin.

The two men sat without uttering a word, enjoying the beauty and silence. Not one boat dotted the lake, and when a loon sang its mournful tune, Nate got shivers.

“I miss this place,” he murmured, eyes on the water.

“Yeah?” Beck looked at him questioningly. “Ever thought about coming back?”

Nate shook his head. “Not permanently. I like New York City, and that’s where my job is. I can’t imagine doing what I do way the hell out here.” A hint of a smile ghosted his mouth when he thought of Molly. “I think I’ll try to make it back more often, though.”

“Glad to hear it. Mom needs someone else’s business to poke her nose into. She’s always up in my stuff.”

Nate chuckled. “I know what you mean. She’s been on me about who I’m spending time with like I have to report in or something. I think she forgets we’re not kids anymore.”

“Yeah.” Beck cleared his throat. “About that.”

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