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You’re supposed to be her friend. Friends don’t kiss the way you want to kiss her. Stand down, man.
“I have my moments of weakness, times where I show the gooey center beneath the… the…” He inched closer.
“Leather?”
“Leather?” He made a face.
“Uh, steel?”
“I like that. Man of steel,” he murmured, studying her pink lips. He loved her full bottom lip and the way it contrasted against the slight bow of the top one. Not balanced, but definitely delicious. Her skin glowed, not pale and pasty like so many women, but with warmth and vitality. Her warm brown eyes sparked beneath black brows that reminded him of that chick in that sappy love movie from the 70s his mom loved. Sad movie with Ryan O’ Neal. Ally somebody. Yeah, Addy looked like that actress. Serene, calm, with that same jaunty smile.
Addy studied him, not quite alarmed he moved closer, but not necessarily welcoming. “So beneath the machismo you’re a nerdy, soft-spoken beta boy?”
“Maybe I am. Maybe you need to find out for your-”
“Uncle Lucas!” the voice cried from their right.
“Of course,” he whispered at the shrieking voice of reason interrupting a weak moment, a moment he really, really wanted to have with Addy despite his admonitions to himself seconds earlier.
Lucas stepped back and gave Addy a regretful smile. She turned and studied the flaking paint on the porch rail.
“Hey,” Chris shouted, loping toward them with cookie crumbs stuck to his chin. “Michael pushed me down and made me break one of the pots. I didn’t do nothing but ask him about-”
“Shut up already,” Michael said, climbing the three steps to the back porch, studying them with some extraperceptive knowledge that he’d interrupted something intense.
“You two boys are at it again, huh?” Lucas asked.
“He’s over dramatizing,” Michael said, moving past them. Quick as a cat, he disappeared, the click of the back door the only sound on the porch outside Chris hitting the toe of his sneakers against the back step.
“He’s a butthead. And mean. I wish mom would come home. He’d be grounded for acting like that,” Chris said, turning his gaze upon them.
“Won’t be too long, Chris.”
The boy grew quiet, still for once. “Is my dad okay, Uncle Lucas? I know he got hurt in Afghanistan, but Mom won’t tell us nothing. She said he was coming home, but he didn’t.”
Lucas didn’t want to lie, but nor did he want to let on how badly Ben fared. The actual IED explosion had happened three weeks ago and Ben had done well with the surgeries. But no one had seen the vicious infection winging in from left field. “Your mother is with your father, and that’s the most important thing.”
Chris nodded and resumed kicking the step.
Addy rubbed her hands on her jeans before sliding by him and starting for her own house. “I better get back. We’ll talk about the kid’s schedules later. I think Aunt Flora’s got something in the oven so we’ll bring dinner over tonight. And I should be able to help this upcoming week. Picking up or dropping off. Whatever you need.”
Whatever he needed, but not what he wanted.
But that was for the best. He had to truly believe that.
“Charlotte has her school Spring Fling tomorrow. Someone’s gotta take her to that,” Michael said, reappearing with a backpack slung over his shoulder and a football. He tossed the ball into the air, flicking it toward his brother who snatched it out of the air with one hand. Impressive.
“I don’t want to go to Spring Fling. It’s lame,” Chris said, tossing the ball back to Michael who missed it. It clattered onto the glass table knocking over a cup of some red juice. “Oops.”
Lucas frowned, wondering how much more of the whining, bickering, and just plain out difficulty he could handle. A departing Addy noticed. “Hey, why not let the boys stay here with me? I have some things I need some strong men to help with. I’ll pay, too.”
Chris’s eyes grew big. “More money than just washing the car?”
“Sure, after you wash the car, you can help me rake out the flower beds.”
Michael nodded. “I can do that.”
Me too,” Chris shouted.
