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Not quite, bud. Though the hoodies they were wearing were probably enough. “Ice cream will make you cold.”
I sped back to Marigold’s house, white-knuckling the steering wheel. When we got close and her car was still the only one in the driveway, I let out a relieved breath. Homeboy wasn’t there yet.
“Come on. We’ll be quick. Get them from your rooms, and we’ll head out.”
The boys and I each unbuckled and strode to the door with purpose, three strapping young men on a mission.
I knocked on the front door three times, each rap containing more force than the last. It took a suspicious amount of time for her to appear, and when she did, she was out of breath like she had been running. Her face lit up for an instant when she saw the boys, but her expression quickly shifted into one of confusion when she saw me with them.
Her chest was heaving and sweat dripped down her collarbones, sliding down her tan skin and disappearing beneath a lavender sports bra. Her long, honey-brown hair was pulled up into a ponytail, with tiny strands pulled out of it, framing her face. I used to joke and call them her angel wings.
Focus, Liam.
My life would be a whole lot less complicated if she wasn’t so beautiful. So captivating. It would be easier for me to focus on my rage right now instead of how, in our previous life, I saw her like this on a regular basis. Now I was only given accidental glimpses.
“Um, that was…quick?” Her confusion was as potent as my anger.
“Hey, Mom.” Dallas and Miles casually walked past her and up to their rooms.
I followed behind them and took in the area around me. I craned my neck, scanning the living room and kitchen, waiting for this mystery guy to pop out so I could give him a piece of my mind. Her living room felt so foreign. She’d changed it a good bit since I’d last come all the way in a few years ago. She’d moved furniture, added new decorations. It was far cozier than my house. More feminine. I was constantly renovating, but still, my place lacked that warmth that was so natural here.
“Uh, come in, I guess,” Marigold said from behind me, her hand still on the doorknob.
I wandered deeper, peering behind the furniture, waiting for a short man with missing toes to pop out. Maybe I was imagining this guy in the worst way possible, but that wasn’t the point.
Closing the door, she turned to me. “What are you doing?”
“Do you have a man over when the boys are here?” I kept my voice low so they wouldn’t hear. As furious as I was, there was no need to let them know what was going on.
Marigold’s confused frown turned into a knowing smirk. She crossed her arms over her chest and stuck her tongue in her cheek. “Oh, giving parenting advice, are we?”
I pointed to the ground, as if that would get her to take me more seriously. “I’m not a perfect dad. I know that. But I would never allow strange women into my house when the boys are home.”
The corners of her lips twisted, turning that smirk into a full-on smile. It was like a punch to the gut. This woman hadn’t given me a genuine smile in I didn’t know how long. It was kind of unnerving. I felt like I was staring into the eyes of the kraken, knowing I’d be struck at any moment.
She shrugged casually. “Paul isn’t strange.”
“Paul?”
Her voice was so calm. Unwavering. Spooky. “Yes, Paul.”
“And who is this P—”
The sound of a car pulling into the driveway cut me off. I stomped over to the large window in the living room and lifted the blinds.
A black Ford Explorer was parking next to my car. Of course he drives a Ford. I wasn’t sure exactly what Ford had done wrong in the scenario, but I would hate them forever.
“Is that him?” I pointed out the window. The man wasn’t short, not even a little bit. No toes appeared to be missing, and I didn’t see so much as a misplaced hair. He walked down the sidewalk to her back door. He used the back door.
This…this alien to our family was using her back door like he lived here.
I’d hoped he was a giant nerd with holes in his shirt and spectacles with the strings on them. But no, the guy walking up to her house ever-so-casually looked like a Greek god. He wore athletic shorts that were pushing the limit of too short and a tank top that showed off biceps the size of my head. I wouldn’t win this fight without a weapon.
I spun around one way, then the other, checking behind the couches and around the coffee table.
“What are you looking for?” Marigold huffed.
“A baseball bat.”
