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“You don’t know that for sure. A lady shouldn’t answer the door this late at night on her own.”
“It’s barely seven.” She stood and followed closely behind.
When they appeared a minute later, Blake was in Patrick’s arms. Marlow looked murderous. Holt, Dad, and I exchanged looks. This was building toward an explosion.
“So what about the lady friend? You had her back to your place yet?” Patrick asked, settling my nephew against him when he returned to his seat.
“Not in front of Blake.” Marlow tried to take him away from Patrick, who ignored her, making a funny face at him. He giggled, and Marlow relented . . . a little.
“This guy needs to know about this stuff. The earlier he learns about women, the better.” Patrick dared her with a look to argue.
Instead, Marlow snatched the abandoned pizza box off the coffee table and chomped on a fresh slice.
“Since you’re all so keen on an old man’s love life—”
“I knew it,” Holt made a finger gun motion. “You’ve made it to third base, haven’t you, Dad?”
“None of your damn business.”
“Damn!” Blake shrieked.
“Like you don’t say it in front of him all the time,” Holt said to Marlow before she could fuss.
She sank back in her seat, fuming.
“I’m sorry, sweetheart.”
Her eyes softened. “It’s okay, Daddy.”
I gaped at her. When was the last time she’d called him that? Thirty years ago?
Dad’s eyes got a little misty, and Marlow swallowed her words with a long drink of whisky.
“How damn!” Blake shouted.
Patrick burst into laughter. “It’s hot damn, little man.”
Marlow glared at him.
“You gotta admit it’s funny,” I said.
“Just wait until your child curses. When he gets to school, they’ll think I’m an unfit mother,” she huffed.
“Like you care about that,” Holt said with pride. “Nobody gives you shit.”
“Except the two of you.” She pointed back and forth between Holt and me.
“Guilty as charged.” I shrugged. “Thanks for the pizza, by the way.”
“She can’t say no to you.”
“Sounds like a good problem to have,” Patrick said, nuzzling Blake. I’d never seen him around a baby, and it was unnerving how good he was with my nephew.
Dad held up his cup. “Pass the old man the bottle, would you, sweetheart?”
She stood to top my dad off. “So what are you doing about the married one?”
Holt smacked his hand against his forehead. “Not this again. We’ve run through all the options already.”
