Page 17 of Tru Blue
He bristled, though he should have anticipated the question. It was a reasonable one. He handed her a glass and nodded toward the living room, then opened the doors leading to the deck to let fresh air in before he suffocated.
“She’s not around,” he said as he sank down to the couch beside her. He felt guilty leaving their mother’s cremation for Quincy to handle, but he had more important things to deal with—two very small people with very big issues.
“Well, can’t you call her? Or email?”
“She’s…” He had to get used to saying it. Might as well start now. “She passed away unexpectedly.”
“Oh gosh.” She laid her delicate fingers on his forearm, and he liked it far more than he should. “I’m so sorry.”
“Trust me. They’re better off without her.”
She drew back as if she’d been burned. “Why?”
He mulled over the question and took another drink of his iced tea, wishing he had something stronger. He wasn’t a big drinker and usually just had a beer or two when he was hanging out with the guys. But the babies didn’t need a drunk guy taking care of them. He needed to be clearheaded and present, now more than ever. He set his drink on the table and ran a hand over his chin, remembering he hadn’t shaved in forever. At least Dixie had watched the kids long enough for him to shower earlier in the day. Not having time for a shower, helping Kennedy brush her teeth, changing diapers… He’d become a parent overnight, and just as quickly he’d come to love the little babies sleeping in the other room.
His mind returned to their mother, bringing a wave of bile to his throat, and his mind back to her question. “Some people aren’t cut out to be mothers.”
She nodded as if she agreed and set her drink beside his. “Even so, I’m sorry you lost her. Regardless of whether she was a good or bad mother, she was still your family. The kids’ family.”
“Right,” he said under his breath. She had the right idea, holding family in high regard. Unfortunately, Kennedy and Lincoln were born to a mother who deserved no such respect. “Well, I hope they don’t remember a second of their life before last night.”
“Last night? Is that when…?”
“Yes.” He wondered why in the hell he was sharing this with her, but it felt good to get it out. It wasn’t like he was the drug addict. He had nothing to hide—except six years of his life spent paying for a crime he didn’t commit.
She touched his arm again. It was a gentle, soothing touch, the kind of touch you might share with a friend or relative. There was nothing sexual about it, but it sure felt good.
“Is that why you needed to buy so much for them? Was there a house fire or something? Did they lose all their stuff?”
“No. They never had any stuff.”
“I don’t understand. How could they have nothing?” She cocked her head to the side.
Who was he kidding? Of course she couldn’t understand. She probably came from a normal family with normal problems, like where to go on vacation or which car to take to the store. He might as well cut this conversation short. He came from an effed-up family, and the minute she heard where he’d spent the last six years, she’d run like the wind.
“You know what? Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea. Why don’t you leave me your keys? I’ll give you a loaner and call you when your car’s done.” He pushed to his feet.
She rose beside him. “Why?”
He arched a brow.
“You just told me that you were glad I was here.”
“I am, but you don’t need to hear this.”
Those catlike eyes narrowed. “I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t want to hear it.”
“Are you always like this?”
“Like what?” She cocked her head again and smiled innocently.
His eyes dropped to her fingers resting on her jutted-out hip. “Oh yeah. You’re always like this.” He couldn’t suppress the smile tugging at his lips.
“You mean, friendly? Curious about a guy who offers to fix my car for free and makes me a little nervous?” The innocence in her smile smoldered right before his eyes.
