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Improving the forward momentum of her life demanded that she do something—anything— to get out of her rut. She had no talents, no skills, no special gifts. All she had was her family, her bonny baby boy, and a need to be loved burning a hole in her chest.
The determination in her voice seemed to catch everyone by surprise, but she couldn’t be sure about Tad who had yet to offer an opinion aloud. His arms were crossed—those sexy, tanned, hairy forearms—over his broad chest. The one she had laid her head against countless evenings as he talked her through another hormonal meltdown.
When she caught his eye again, he wore his patented amused, sardonic expression.
That about confirmed it. They were good friends.
Just as it should be.
Four
Tad unlocked the front door to his parents’ house and pushed inside.His parents’house.Almost ten years gone and he still thought of his home that way. It would always be Vivi and Rafe DeLuca’s home—and he would always be the trespasser. On cue, his phone buzzed and this time he answered because he could no longer put off the dreaded conversation with his sister Gina.
“Hey, G, how’s Flo-Rida?”
“Still filled with hot young Cubans and wrinkly old geezers.”
She had moved to sunnier climes with her husband David last year when he got a job as a manager at the Ritz in Miami, and despite the fact she was annoying as hell, he missed her.
“We have to talk about the house,” she continued. “I know it’s tough but we need the money—and so do you.”
Now he remembered that he didn’t miss her so much after all. She had inherited half the house after Mom and Dad died, and he couldn’t afford to buy her out, so that was that. She wouldn’t force him to sell, but it didn’t stop her from nagging about it on every call.
There were days he agreed with her, usually around the time of the anniversary when his memories and his guilt threatened to drown him. But he was learning how to cope—a few days away and several hangovers later, he would come out the other side, determined that this next year would be better. Giving up the house, the last connection he had to them, smacked of failure.
A splash of paint, some modern furniture to replace the heavy, oak pieces his mother had inherited from her mother—he’d had those put in storage before Gina got her knickers in a knot—and a judicious pruning of the family photos, and it had become bearable. He wasn’t trying to excise his parents from his life, just make the place less of a ghost town. He could rent it out and live elsewhere, but honestly, it was convenient to live here. Vivi’s was a short walk, as was O’Casey’s Tap, his local. He was just a few blocks from Jack and Lili, close to Cara and Shane, and within touching distance of Jules.
The house felt stuffy so he opened the back door to let some air in, sighing at the sight of the run-down yard. Weeds sprung up between the patio tiles, fighting to escape the piss-colored lawn grass that was clearly on life support. Each year, he threatened to bring his mother’s overgrown herb garden to life and each spring passed with no result.
“When the bar takes off, I’ll be able to get a mortgage to cover your half. Just a few months.”
Of course, the bar might not take off. The reviews might be bad. He might not be able to find a decent chef or ever serve food. Jack’s investment had to be settled before Tad could even consider taking his share.
His sister hummed in his ear. “We want to have a baby soon and we could really do with the cash. David doesn’t earn that much money and it’s not cheap to live here.”
Maybe she should quit going out every night and acting like she was still a wine cooler-swilling teenager. Marriage was supposed to calm her down but his sister had always been a party girl.
Feeing hungry and knowing there was nothing in the fridge, he wrenched open cupboard doors, but too late remembered why the cabinet closest to the fridge was off-limits. With a bitter swallow, he shut the door on the bottle of Bordeaux he had forgotten was sequestered there. His father’s last gift.
Gina sighed into the silence. “Have you ever thought that maybe it would be…you know…healthier to move out?”
He paused to give the question the consideration she felt it deserved, all the while knowing the answer would be the same. “Just give me some time, okay?”
They chit-chatted about this and that, and he hung up with a promise to visit her in the coming months(unlikely)and to keep her posted on when that mortgage would be happening(no time soon).
The crappy food situation had him phoning in an order for an Italian salad and a slice. He’d been eating too much pasta at DeLuca’s Ristorante, his uncle Tony’s place, which made the gym workouts more punishing than they had to be. Next time he hit the treadmill, he was going to have to turn the dial up a notch. Maybe the workout endorphins would help cushion the blow of Jules’s sure-as-shit dating announcement.
So she wanted to date. Well, it was no skin off his nose.
Why then did he have an urge to pick up a chair and throw it through the plate glass window of his brand new wine cellar? She was his friend and he was supposed to be happy for her.
Because there were weirdos out there, psychopaths trawling online looking for unsuspecting women who were tired of the bar scene. Maybe if she was putting herself on one of those Christian dating sites, there was a chance the guy might have more than murder or getting in her knickers on his mind. Though even that prospect was dim, because a woman like Jules would tempt the Pope to forget his vows. Either way, her heart would be open for any guy to come in and bat it around the outfield for a while before bringing his dick home.
For once in his life, Tad found himself on the same side of the divide with Jack as far as Jules was concerned. If she met someone in the natural course of things, that was one thing, but this online dating seemed so dangerous. The men answering her ad or whatever they called it would pick up on how defenseless she was.
Jules gave off a scent of vulnerability and such goddamn sweetness that every creep out there would be able to smell it through their laptops. They’d be queuing up in droves to get their hands on that gorgeous honey pie.
She needed his protection. After all, what were friends for?
