Busted

Mama Ang shook her head and turned, walking to the door.

Kiara stared at them both.

“I love her,” Ressa said softly. “But if I thought you could actually take care of her and give her a happy life, I’d give her up. I love her that much. But you can’t, Kiara. You can’t even make yourself happy. You can’t even take care of yourself. How can you take care of a child? That’s why I won’t let this happen. It’s because I love her that I’ll fight.”

She cocked a brow. “Now here’s the real question. Do you really love her? Because I think you know which one of us can really give her a life . . . a chance.”

*   *   *

There was a time in his life when he had been around more noise, but Trey couldn’t say when.

It was almost seven o’clock, and when Sebastian managed to talk the two kids into a movie marathon, Trey could have hugged him.

He doubted there would be much of a marathon, but still, as silence fell over the house, he retreated to the front porch and collapsed on one of the rockers. He thought he may have felt this tired before.

Once.

At some point in his life.

He just didn’t know when.

When Travis came out and sat down next to him, putting down a bottle of beer, he ignored it for the first ten minutes. Finally, he reached over and took it.

“I don’t really want this,” he said as he twisted off the cap.

“Then don’t drink it.” Travis shrugged.

He put the bottle to his lips, caught a hint of the smell, and took a sip anyway.

“I hate to say this, but those two kids have kicked my ass,” he said.

“You did better than I did. I hid in my room half the day.”

“I noticed.” Trey curled his lip. “Chickenshit.”

“Absolutely.” Travis drained half his beer and then sighed in satisfaction. “So. How much longer . . .”

The words trailed off as the sound of a throaty engine came rolling down the street. It had them both looking up. The fatigue drained out of Trey and he almost lurched up out of his seat, had to fight the urge to leap over the railing.

Ressa, and that sexy Mustang of hers.

“Trey, you practically have a hook in your mouth—I can almost see you flopping around,” Travis said, his voice wry. “It’s a good look for you, man.”

“Fuck off,” he muttered. Ressa parked the car. A moment later, she climbed out and her aunt slid out a moment later.

It was the appearance of her aunt that kept him from rushing her.

That was it.

He couldn’t care less that his brother was standing there, snickering over his beer.

But the slender, smaller woman had him freezing on the steps.

The resemblance was there. They had the same eyes, Ressa and this small, diminutive woman.

As she approached, her gaze held his and there was an appraising study there. He wasn’t entirely sure how he held up, and he realized his hands were sweating.

Ressa came up the steps and stopped next to him.

“Hey.”

He glanced away from her aunt. “Ah . . . hey. Hi.”

She frowned and then glanced over her shoulder to her aunt. “Mama Ang, stop.” She looked back at him. “She’s got that mom look down to an art.”

“I should.” Her aunt smiled now. “So . . . you’re the boy who has my girl all flustered.”

Trey opened his mouth, closed it, then glanced at Ressa. He wasn’t at all certain how to answer that. Finally, he said, “Well, she’s had the same effect on me, so I figure it’s only fair.”

Amusement flashed through the older woman’s eyes. Then she held out her hand. “I’m Angeline MacAllister. I’m also a huge fan of yours, Mr. Barnes, although I can’t say I ever expected to meet you . . . and especially not like this.”

“A pleasure.” He shook her hand. He wasn’t sure what else he could say.

She looked away from him and focused on Travis. Her gaze narrowed slightly and then she shook her head. “I bet you boys kept your mother busy.”

“No, ma’am,” Travis said, straight-faced. “We were too busy focusing on school.”

Angeline snorted. “I just bet you were. Now . . . I think I’d like to take my grandbaby out for ice cream. Ressa, I imagine you can find your way home . . . can’t you?”

*   *   *

Way to throw me under the bus, Mama Ang.

Nearly thirty minutes later, she stood on the porch, watching as Neeci climbed into the car with her grandmother. She’d gone somewhat reluctantly, but then as Mama Ang swept her down the steps, she’d said the magic words . . . ice cream and Neeci had all but dragged her gra

Now, while Clayton clung despondently to his uncle, Ressa rested her hands on the railing and stared off at the car as it backed out of the drive.

“I wish Neeci could stay here,” Clayton said, his voice sullen. “Forever and ever. Nobody is as much as fun as she is.”

Ressa bit the inside of her cheek to keep from laughing while both Sebastian and Travis gave the boy affronted looks. Sebastian took his hat off and put it on Clayton’s head, tugging it down until the bill completely covered Clayton’s face. “I’ll tell you what, boy . . . I’m every bit as fun as a girl,” he said, turning back toward the house.

“But you’re old, Uncle ’Bastian.”

“Your son doesn’t lack for drama,” Ressa said as they trailed behind.

Trey nudged the door closed and she paused to look at him.

He just stared at her.

Her heart jumped, caught, racing inside her chest. She wished she could reach up. Touch him. Five minutes alone . . .

You two really do need to finish that talk.

Preferably this time without her flying off and losing her mind.

“Ah . . . so, maybe we should . . .”

“Have you eaten?”

They both stopped, staring at each other. Then Ressa lifted a hand, laughing. “You first.”

He reached out and caught her hand. “You look like you need to sit down, relax. Have you eaten?”

“I’ve been sitting on my ass in a car for half the day,” she murmured.

“That’s not the same as relaxing.” His thumb stroked across the back of her hand. “Have you had anything to eat?”

She wrinkled her nose. “A burger from some fast-food joint around noon.”

“Then you need to eat.”

*   *   *

The smell of something rather delectable filled the house, and despite the fact that she wasn’t hungry—or hadn’t been—she could feel her belly rumbling. Maybe she could use some food, although until the past few minutes, nothing had sounded appealing.

As she roamed the house, she sipped at the wine he’d poured, wine she hadn’t really wanted, but it gave her something to do, so she’d taken it.

Absently, she pushed open a door even as a voice in her mind murmured, Don’t be nosy.

The rest of her was saying, Nosy is better than brooding.

Standing in the doorway, she found herself looking at a room that was clearly Clayton’s.

It was easy enough to figure that out thanks to the Star Wars motif and toys scattered everywhere. It was a large room, bright with color. Everything a child could want for a bedroom. She moved around, picking up toys out of habit and putting them into bins or on shelves if she could see where they went.

“Hey.”

She looked up and saw Trey in the door.

“Hey.” She looked around. “I’m meddling. I . . . Sorry.” Grimacing, she stared at the Dinobot she held and then shook her head. “I’m trying to keep my mind distracted. Today was . . . rough.”

“No need to apologize.” He came inside, stopped a few feet away. Rocking back on his heels, he looked around. “I haven’t ever really given you the grand tour, have I? This is Clay’s room.”

“Aw, man . . . and here I was thinking I found a guy who shared my obsession with Grimlock.” She lifted the toy in her hand and gri