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Mac turned toward the driveway. Big black SUV. Yep. It was Cain.
“Jesus, Becs, you’re going to yank my damn arm out of its socket. He’s a guy. Flesh and blood like the rest of us.”
She let go, and Mac strode over to Cain as he exited his truck, grabbing him up in a guy hug, which basically meant they kinda sorta slapped shoulders and head butted each other. A small head popped up beside him, and Mac messed up the curls of Maggie’s boy, Michael. Last he’d heard, Cain had adopted him. They were one big, happy family now with another on the way. Cain had moved his family back to Crystal Lake a few months ago and, from what Mac understood, planned on recording his band’s next record in his basement.
Cain’s hair was a lot longer these days, but the look was good, and judging from the reaction of his sister, it worked. Dressed in jeans and a plain black T-shirt, the guy seemed relaxed considering he was gonna be a daddy in a few months.
Or weeks? Hell, Mac wasn’t up on all that stuff.
“Jake told me I could find you here,” Cain said.
“This a social call or do you need something?” Mac grinned.
“No. I…” Cain’s wide, easy smile moved past Mac, and Mac had to hand it to him, Cain managed to hide his shock at the sight of his sister.
“Wow! Little Becca?” he said.
“Hi, Cain.”
Mac watched as his sister played with the loose strands of hair that fell out of the clip, drawing them forward as if that was going to hide the damage to her face. Cain didn’t say a word, but Mac caught the question in his eyes.
“You’re all grown up.” Cain cocked his head and grinned. “It’s nice to see you again.”
“Becca’s here for the summer with her kid, Liam.”
“Really?” Cain replied. “How old is your boy?”
“Uh, he’s ten.” Becca moved closer to Mac.
“Shit, Becca. You look like you’re barely out of college. How the hell can you have a ten-year-old?”
His sister blushed and glanced away, suddenly embarrassed, and there were a few awkward moments until Cain cleared his throat and tugged on Michael’s arm.
“Well, Becca. This here is my son, Michael, and he will be ten in a week.”
Michael’s smile lit up, and he shoved his hand toward Becca. “Hi,” he said, although he wasn’t as good at hiding his thoughts as Cain was. His face puckered up as he studied Becca, and he opened his mouth to say something, but Cain beat him to the punch.
“Is that your son?”
They all glanced back at the house as Liam hopped down the steps and paused, surprised to find a crowd in the driveway. He got his bearings and sauntered over to them as if he had all the time in the world. Mac watched the kid closely. He saw the attitude. The swagger. And he knew that if he looked closer, he’d probably find the pain.
Damn kid reminded Mackenzie of himself.
“Liam,” Mac said when the boy reached them. “This is one of my oldest buddies, Cain, and his son, Michael.”
“Hey,” Liam said, lifting his chin. He didn’t sound real friendly, but he didn’t exactly sound disinterested either. He was caught somewhere between wanting to know more and not being willing to ask.
“Hey,” Michael answered, shuffling his feet in the dirt.
Mac lifted an eyebrow and tried not to laugh at all the male posturing.
“Liam,” Becca said excitedly, “Cain is the guitarist and singer from BlackRock. Remember I told you? He’s been on the cover of Rolling Stone and he’s played with Bruce Springsteen, and—”
“I don’t know those guys,” Liam said. “But I might have heard of BlackRock.”
“He’s not really a big deal,” Mac said, grinning at the look of horror on his sister’s face.
“That’s exactly what my wife would say,” Cain replied.
