Chapter 16

SIXTEEN

My attention was split between the contract I was halfheartedly skimming and watching for Dahlia's return.

Finally, the two women came out of the room and the lighter-haired one—Shelby, I was pretty sure—split off to go to what I assumed was her office. Hellcat shook back her dark hair and damn that dress. She'd already tried to kill me on the sidewalk. Knowing what those legs felt like wrapped around me, then to see them again?

How the hell was I going to get through this project?

But seeing the even more involved drawings told me all I really needed to know. I'd made a halfhearted attempt to find someone else to run the renovation, but she was right. The other guy that I'd looked into was a blowhard. He'd marked up the materials and based on the few TJ had mentioned, Designing Women used superior products without the gouging.

In fact, I had a feeling they were undercutting themselves a fair amount. But after hearing what Donner had said about the other design firms—most especially Dahlia's—I knew they faced a fair bit of men's club bullshit.

Dahlia stopped beside TJ's chair and murmured something to her in a low voice. She gave me a tight smile. "Sorry about that. Where are we?"

"TJ has given me a few things to think over. If you'd like to set up a time for your code enforcement guy—or gal—to come look at the house, we can get down to a schedule."

"Just like that?"

I nodded. "From what I can tell, you've done your due diligence. I don't care about a pissing contest with firms in the area, I just want to get the house done. And if my sister's husband works with you as often as you've said, I trust that more than shopping around."

Her already huge espresso eyes widened. "Right. I'll go talk to Gideon and see what kind of summer schedule he's got going on. If that suits you."

"It does."

"Will it..." She seemed to be weighing her words. "Will there be a problem with working with Gideon?"

"Guess we're going to find out."

TJ glanced at Dahlia and some silent conversation went on between them before TJ cleared her throat. "I'll let you guys figure this part out. I'll get a digital and physical copy of this contract ready for you." She stood up and held her hand out to me again. "I'm not going to lie. I'm excited to get out there and see the inside of the place. I've only managed to sneak in during one of the open houses."

I shook her hand. "Just let me know when you want to take a look around. I'll make it happen."

"I'll get together with Dahlia." TJ tapped the papers together. "I'll just be a few minutes with this."

Dahlia tucked her hands into the pockets of her dress. The deep vee flashed the smallest bit of a navy bra that had me distracted for a moment before I lifted my gaze to hers. Hopefully, she didn't notice since I was still wearing my sunglasses against the blasting sun. There wasn't a cloud in the sky, and I sure as shit didn't need a light-induced optical today.

I didn't need to know what that scrap of lacy navy was.

It was none of my damn business.

"Because I know Macy and Gideon so well, do you want me to talk to them separately before we finalize the contract? We have other contractors we can use, but Gideon's team is our preferred."

Uncomfortable with my family crap being in the middle of this, I wasn't sure which was the easier way to go. Regardless of the familial knots, Gideon was a professional. However, Crescent Cove was a small town, and I really didn't know all the dynamics.

"Look, I don't know what's up between you and Macy. It's none of my business, but we are good friends. It's going to come up if there's a problem. It's better to know before we start this remodel."

"Macy and I spoke the other day." I folded my arms across my chest.

"When?"

"After I left your place."

TJ came out of a room and crossed to us.

I shut my mouth.

Dahlia gave TJ a bright smile. "What's your schedule look like? Shelby is going to be a bit out of pocket for a while on this one."

"I'll talk to Bob and see if we can get him to meet me over there early next week."

Dahlia turned to me. "Sound good?"

I resisted the urge to push for a faster date. Tomorrow was Friday, but I was pretty sure this kind of work included weekends. But again, I wasn't sure how small towns worked. Maybe they were done at two in the damn afternoon on Fridays and MIA until Monday.

How the hell was I supposed to know? I hadn't had a normal schedule—ever.

"You have my information."

TJ handed me a copy of the contract. "Thanks so much for coming in."

I glanced at Dahlia and nodded. "Miss McKenna."

Her lips thinned.

I shouldn't enjoy getting under her skin. I couldn't remember the last time I'd actually felt anything other than numbness. Until this house.

Until you touched her, dumbass.

I rolled the contract into a loose tube. "I'll be in touch." Before I did anything more stupid, I strode to the front of the studio.

TJ gave her a hard look and Dahlia made a low, annoyed sound. "Let me walk you out."

I really didn't want her to.

Hell, I didn't know how to act around her. I didn't want to deal with any of this crap.

As I slipped out onto the sidewalk, Dahlia grabbed my wrist.

My fingers tightened into a fist.

"Look, we can be professionals. That's what you wanted, remember? I get that you're a grumpy jerk ninety percent of the time, but this feels like it's more than that."

"It's not."

She dropped her hand and my skin still felt as if I'd just touched a live wire. "Then we're good?"

"We're good." I left her on the sidewalk and headed to my truck. Of course, LITTLE DICK taunted me as I swung open the door.

Was I fucking crazy to do this?

I glanced in my rearview as Dahlia stood outside Designing Women, her dress floating on the slight breeze.

Yeah, I was probably the one who needed my head seen to. Then again, anyone who did a deep dive in there would probably put me on a twice weekly rotation on a shrink's couch.

I steered my truck toward home.

Damn, that was still crazy to say. After talking with Macy, I was feeling a bit better about it. But now I needed to make another step in that direction. Instead of stopping at my house, I continued my way around the lake to my sister's address. It was early in the day, but if Macy kept to her usual schedule, she tended toward a mid-afternoon nap.

I'd gone looking for her the day before and her bubbly friend Vee had mentioned that Macy did a split shift. I tightened my grip on the steering wheel. I wasn't sure this was a good idea—and if she wasn't home, I'd just head back to my place.

When I pulled up the drive, I couldn't have imagined a more perfect house for my sister. It was pumpkin orange for God's sake. A wraparound porch full of kid shit, including bikes and a Nerf gun I'd have killed for as a ten-year-old, showed it was lived in, not just for show. The squeal of child laughter followed by my sister's bellow told me I'd picked right on the timing.

Maybe.

"Michael Myers Gideon, you get back here. We are not skinny dipping right now. I need to get back to work!"

As I made my way around the back of the house, I heard a splash.

"That's it! You're meat, kid!"

The little boy thought she was hilarious and just kept swimming like the fish he obviously was. I did a little mental math and figured the kid was school-aged. I wasn't all that sure though. Kindergarten had been a damn long time ago.

Maybe preschool? Hell if I knew.

Macy stood on the edge of the in-ground pool. Their house was close to the lake but not directly on it like my house. Another boatload of kid stuff was scattered around the yard.

"It's hot, Mom!"

"I know it's hot." I could hear the exasperation in her voice. "You didn't even put on your trunks. You pee in that pool, and we're having words."

"I'm a big boy, I don't pee unless it's in the telet."

"Toilet."

"That's what I said."

She sighed and dropped on one of the lounge chairs beside the pool and picked up the kid's discarded shorts and underwear. "Fine. Ten minutes."

"Yes!" He bobbed around like a cork and then dipped under the surface of the perfect blue water. He popped back up, exploding out of the water as if he'd touched the bottom for a bit of momentum and did a backflip. He wiped the water out of his eyes. "What's the score?"

"Solid eight."

"Man, let me try again." He spotted me and swam to the side. "Hey, mister. My mom isn't buying what you're selling."

Macy stood up, a towel in hand, and went to the edge of the pool, mama bear engaged. "Nolan."

"Hey, Mace."

She looked down at Michael then returned her attention to me. "Out of the pool, kid."

"Aww, you said I had ten minutes."

"Don't argue."

The kid seemed to recognize the voice. Even my asshole tightened at it. "Who are you?"

"He's a friend of mine." Macy held her hand out for his smaller one and hauled him out of the water, wrapping the towel around him as if she'd done it a million times.

Wasn't expecting the arrow, but I deserved its pinpoint accuracy. "I was just in the neighborhood and thought I'd stop by."

Michael hooked his arm around her neck. He was a perfect mix of Macy and Gideon, but damn if he didn't have our mom's eyes. The intelligent icy blue that Macy shared, as well. "I'm Michael."

Not Mike like most kids would be. Nope, not for my sister—the full Michael.

"Pretty sure I heard the full name as I was coming around the house."

The kid leaned on his mom with a sigh. "I'm named after a movie. I'm not allowed to watch it yet though. Do you know Michael Myers?"

I tucked my hands in my pockets. "I know it very well. Your mom and I used to watch it all the time."

"Really?" He glanced over at Macy.

Macy nodded and pushed the wet hair out of his eyes. "Yeah, when I was a kid."

"So, when do I get to watch it?"

"Talk to me when you're at double digits, my guy."

He groaned. "You always say that. It's gonna be forever."

She set him down. "Go inside with your sister. Get dressed. You're going to Grumps' place."

"Yes! He's teaching me checkers." He wrapped his towel tight under his chin, staring straight into my soul. "Do you know how to play checkers?"

I cleared my throat. "Triple king master."

"So, cool! I've only been kinged once. Grumps doesn't believe in letting kids win."

I glanced at Macy. "Grumps?"

"Gideon's dad."

"Ahh. Got it."

Michael tipped his head quizzically. "What happened to your face?"

"Michael Gideon!" Macy's eyes bulged.

"What? Just curious. Looks like a lightning bolt on your cheek. How far does it go down?"

Macy dragged him back to her and covered his mouth. "Excuse my rude kid."

Michael craned his neck to look up at her, mumbling something. When Macy finally pulled her hand away, he gave her a frown. "What? It's cool."

Cool was not a word I'd ever heard about my scars. Either people stared or specifically made sure to ignore them. There was usually no in-between.

She urged him back toward the house. "Go. Don't forget your book."

"Oh, right. I won't! Grumps is gonna read the next chapter to me. We're reading Percy Jackson!"

I wasn't sure what to say so I just rocked back on my heels. "Very cool."

"Say goodbye to Mr—Nolan."

Michael waved. "Bye, Mr. Nolan!" He ran off, his wet feet slapping along the slate tiles before he thundered up the stairs.

Macy folded her arms over her chest. "Uncool with the sneak attack, No."

"So, they don't know about me at all, huh?"

"Kind of hard to explain they have an uncle who has never made an attempt to meet them."

"Yeah. Got it. You're right." I raked my fingers through my hair before letting it fall forward again to soften the stark difference between my right and my left half of my face.

Macy stepped forward and pushed my hair back. "We going to talk about that?"

I resisted the urge to flinch away. "What do you want to know?"

She let my hair fall back into place, hiding a chunk of my left side. "What happened?"

"Thought you needed to get back to work."

"Handily, I own my own place. I do what I want." She folded her arms. "Spill it."

"I'm impressed you didn't Google it after our conversation the other night."

"I was tempted, but most articles are bullshit. I've learned that from my own life."

"Sounds like there's a story there."

"Not the topic at hand, No."

I sighed. "I had an accident in my workshop."

She waited a beat. "That's it?"

I lifted my chin, thankful for my sunglasses just then. The memory of being pinned by my own sculpture wasn't something I liked to relive. "I was working on an eight-foot commission piece for a business. I fucked up one of the soldering joins, and when I tried to fit the next piece onto the sculpture, it warped and..." I flipped open a few buttons on my shirt and pulled it aside.

"Jesus." Macy dropped her arms to her sides. "Nolan."

"It was my fault. I tried to jump back, and the scaffolding folded like a house of cards when the sculpture tipped." The memory was as vivid as the day it had happened. The burning metal, then my burning flesh. I swallowed down the bile. "I was trapped under it and when the sharpest piece cut into me, it ripped me up pretty good." She didn't need to know that I'd been pinned there for hours. In and out of consciousness from the pain and blood loss. "In the end, I was lucky that the metal sheeting retained the heat so well. It cauterized the wounds enough, so I didn't bleed out."

"Wounds?" Her voice was a husky whisper.

"You don't need to see all of it, Mace." She definitely didn't need to know all of the specifics, either.

"Why didn't you call me? You didn't have?—"

"What? I was going to go missing for years and expect you to help nurse me back to health? Please. You did enough of that with our mom."

Her eyes blazed. "You didn't need to be alone."

"I deserved it."

"What?" She crowded into me. "What did you just say?"

"Nothing." I stepped back. I didn't need to drag her into the black tar pit of my psyche. "This was a bad idea."

"Just gonna leave? Oh, that's right. You're good at running, No."

I stiffened and laced my fingers at the back of my neck. "Dammit. I didn't mean it that way."

"Didn't you? You think you're the only one with baggage? I almost missed out on Gideon and my two kids because of our shitty past. Because of Lou."

I turned away, my eyes stinging. "I shouldn't have left you with Lou."

She touched my shoulder. "You didn't know what he was going to do." Then she pulled away. "Or did you?"

I hunched my shoulders. "I should have known. Should have seen what the hell he was up to. I was too busy busting my ass to get my pieces seen to pay attention when you guys were blowing up. I should have been there."

Instead, I'd been on a flight to New York to meet with Maeve to see if she'd take me on as a client.

"I needed you, Nolan. I won't deny that. But I would have understood." She went around to stand in front of me. "You disappeared. That's the part that killed me."

"I know. I was a selfish fuck."

"Yeah. You were."

My chest was on fire. While Macy had gotten her heart ripped out, I'd been one more person who had abandoned her.

"Then you came back and did it again when you helped me move to Crescent Cove."

"You didn't need me, Mace. You never did." She had the café and I'd been the older brother with no prospects, and no job. I'd been couch surfing with friends or crashing at art co-ops because back then, I'd had nothing to offer anyone. Just anger and bitterness.

Not like I'd been any better when I actually made it. I'd just turned into an asshole with money.

"I did." She touched my arm. "I do."

I tore my sunglasses off my face, my eyes stinging. "You do? As in now. Still?"

I fought against the hope that bloomed in my chest. I didn't deserve to get off this easy. I had to ask. "Is it because of the scars?"

"Oh, fuck you. I'm not letting you back in my life for pity, you asshole. I just miss my big brother." She wound her long arms around my shoulders. "And I'm overly emotional."

I stood frozen, with my arms at my sides for a long moment before I crushed her to me. "I missed you too, Mace. I just didn't know how to tell you." I held on for another moment. The familiar scent of shampoo jettisoned me back to when we were in our twenties. Emotional, however? That wasn't exactly Macy's style.

At least not after our mother had passed away.

I eased her back. "And why are you emotional?"

She rubbed her eyes, then she swore. "Fucking mascara."

I laughed at the raccoon eyes she'd given herself. When she glared at me, I laughed again. "Sorry."

She pulled a plastic stick out of her back pocket. "I was on my way to tell my husband that we're having another kid."

I cringed as she waved it at me. "Didn't you have to pee on that?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a mom. I touch pee all the fucking time, but I washed it off, you big baby."

I gripped the back of my neck. "So, wow." Reeling from the quasi-forgiveness and now this, I didn't know what the hell to say. "I'm going to be an uncle again?"

"So it seems. I think sometime in January. My damn husband just can't get it right to knock me up so I can actually have a Halloween baby."

"You were trying?"

"We've been trying. Michael was a hole in one the minute we decided to have kids. Bingo, bango, my face in the toilet and the whole deal."

I swallowed down a lump in my throat. "God, I don't need to know these parts of your life."

She wrapped her arm around my waist and led me toward the side yard. "Oh, now you're getting all the details, pal."

"Just like that? We're okay?" That kernel of hope felt like it was buried under sixteen layers of sheet metal.

"Life is damn short. I'd think that accident would have taught you that. It's why you went looking for me again, right? Not that I was the one who was missing, you jerk."

I slung my arm around her shoulders in that way that we used to. When we escaped the dank apartment that smelled of stale smoke and burnt pizza. The long summer days where we'd hop on our secondhand bikes and ride out of the shitty projects and try to pretend we were normal kids.

That our dad wasn't a junkie and our mother a shell of a woman who took any scrap of affection from our dad in between the rages. Who made excuses and took him back again and again no matter how many times he stole from her.

Hell, stole from me .

When we were outside, we'd forgotten about all of that for hours and hours.

"C'mon back, No." She slid out from under my arm as we got to my truck. "I know when that brain of yours is running into the past."

I sighed. "Was a good memory." At first. As always, I let it drag me into the muck. Even the good ones were linked with the bad.

She stood beside my truck with her hands on her hips. "LITTLE DICK?"

"Your friend's handiwork."

She frowned. "Who?"

"Dahlia."

She threw her head back with a laugh. "She's something. You must have pissed her off good."

I sighed. "Not that time. Some guy she'd been dating was macking on another girl. I had the misfortune of owning a similar truck."

"Well, that dude deserved it."

I shook my head with a laugh. "I could have had her arrested."

"I side with Dahl. Besides, Gideon knows that I'd burn all his businesses down if he cheated on me."

"All of them? What, you gonna go Charlie McGee on him?"

She wrinkled her nose. "Stephen King wishes he had my twisted revenge plots. I'd be much more subtle."

I laughed. Firestarter had never been her favorite horror movie. My sister tended toward the classic stalker horror flicks with a few forays into slasher movies.

"Speaking of Gideon. I'm using Dahlia's design studio to renovate my house."

"So, that's why she's been trying to get ahold of me. Things have been crazy with the end of the year for the kids and work." She arched her brow at me. "Let me get this straight, you are hiring her even after she vandalized your truck?"

"You should see the designs she has for the remodel. She might be a little unhinged?—"

"Dahlia? Are we speaking about the same woman? Yay high?" She held her hand at her shoulder. "Maybe yay high with those ankle breakers she likes?" She went up to her eye level.

"Yeah. Dahlia McKenna. I can't imagine there's two of them in this world. If there are, we're definitely living in one of those Marvel movies."

She snorted. "Dahlia is usually levelheaded. She's got a killer sense of humor, but she's not over the top about things."

"Guess I'm just lucky."

"Hmm." She narrowed her eyes.

Hopefully, I didn't have a neon light over my head that said I'd had sex with one of her friends. Not awesome. "If you're good with it, I'd like to talk to Gideon about doing the work."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really living in that guilt pit, huh?"

I leaned against the door. "TJ and Dahlia are inclined to work with him. He did the Haunt, didn't he?"

"He did. I mean, I think he's the best contractor around, but I might be a bit biased." She winked at me. "He's good with his hands."

"Oh, hell. Don't...no."

She laughed. "Well, he did knock me up. Twice!"

"Gah. Okay, I'm going." I straightened and opened the door. I glanced down at her middle. "You're okay, though?" I made a little circle in the air. "Sick?"

I flashed back to the meeting with a very green and pale Shelby. Wonder if she had the same affliction.

"Not this time. Evidently, Michael was the one to give me all the trouble. Gideon's demon seed." She waggled her eyebrows.

"Okay." I stepped up into the cab of my truck. "That's enough for me."

She held the door as I was about to close it. "Listen. I want to get to know you again. I want my kids to know you."

I nodded. "I want that too. Why I came back."

"I thought it was for the haunted house."

"Not you, too."

"Look, pal. We live in a town that knocks up women at a rate that could only be called supernatural. A ghost isn't out of the realm as far as I'm concerned."

I shook my head. "You all are crazy. But I do love that house. Just thought it was a sign."

"You don't believe in ghosts, but you're good with signs?"

"Doesn't make a lick of sense. I'm just going to shut my damn mouth."

She shut the door and stood back. "Next Sunday. Family dinner."

My gut jittered. "Am I just a friend?" I put my sunglasses back on.

"The invite is for Uncle No." She sauntered off with a wave.

I pressed my forehead to the steering wheel and blew out a shaky breath. I was going to earn the fuck out of this second chance. No matter what.