Chapter 17

Sundays were usually chill at Mike Paul’s place. He took care of the animals, caught up on paperwork, and organized his coming week. Then, he usually spent the afternoon on the sofa eating pizza, drinking beer, and watching football. Sometimes, he’d head to his parents for dinner or to Cobi’s place, but most of the time, he was on his own.

And up until recently, that was how he liked things. Calm. Predictable.

But this particular Sunday was already trying his patience, and it had barely begun.

First off, he’s slept like shit. It was his fault because he couldn’t seem to banish Ivy from his head. That kiss had damn near brought him to his knees. God, the feel of her was like a drug. And he could still smell that vanilla scent. It was driving him crazy. Didn’t help that he’d had to sleep on the sofa because his sister was currently occupying his bed.

Then there was the whole Jacob situation he needed to deal with. He hadn’t thought that through on account of his phone was pinging non-stop, filled with messages he had no desire to read. Benton. Taz. His mother, for God sake. No way she knew about last night, but still, it made him wonder.

Cal and Millie Sue had been particularly active, and he knew he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking to them much longer.

The only person who hadn’t sent him a message was the one person he wanted to talk to so bad it made his gut hurt. Had he royally fucked things up?

“Shit,” he muttered, filling up the dogs’ food dishes. When had his life gotten so damn complicated? Of course, he knew the answer, but since he was trying to banish Ivy from his head, he decided to think about other things.

He was about to grab a second cup of badly needed coffee when there was a knock at his door, which immediately set off the dogs. With a frown, he glanced at the clock, noting it was just past eight. He gave Weiner and Bun the look that immediately silenced them. Then, wearing just his boxers, he headed for the foyer, the now silent dogs on his heels. He figured whoever was on the other side shouldn’t expect a man to be fully dressed this early on a Sunday.

He unlocked the door, and it yanked open almost immediately. His parents stood there. His dad had a sheepish look on his face like he wanted to be anywhere else but where he stood. And beside him was his mother, with those all-knowing eyes and a tight-lipped smile that told Mike Paul all he needed to know.

This wasn’t a casual visit. The shit was about to hit.

It was too early for this.

“Dad,” he said dryly, moving aside so his folks could get inside. “Thought you’d be prepping the smoker for football.”

His dad offered a pained expression. “Apparently, I’m needed here.”

“That so.” Mike Paul shifted his gaze to his mother, who’d already stepped out of her boots and had hung up her jacket.

“Is that coffee I smell?” she asked.

“Fresh pot.”

“Good. Can you put on some clothes, please?” She sailed past him and headed for the kitchen.

Mike Paul was ready with a slick comeback, but his father spoke before he could.

“Best not to poke the bear this morning, son. She’s not in the mood.”

Great.

Mike Paul headed for the laundry room and grabbed a pair of jeans from the clean pile. He pulled them on, then rooted through the dirty pile for something that didn’t smell to high heaven of animals, but no luck. He opened the dryer and grabbed a T-shirt, it was wrinkled but at least it was clean.

By the time he made it back to the kitchen, his parents were sitting at the counter, each with a mug of coffee in hand, the dogs at their feet, happily waving their tails because his father was feeding them pieces of the one cookie he’d kept from the platter Arlene had dropped off.

There was no point in giving his dad crap, so he poured himself a cup of java, took his time adding one sugar and some cream, then turned to face the music. He assumed they’d heard about him and Ivy leaving the Christmas party together, hell, half of Big Bend probably knew by now.

“Where is she?” Melody Darlington dove in without giving him a chance to get his story straight. “I know she was with you last night.”

Mike Paul decided there was no use in trying to make up some kind of story that made sense. A) because nothing made sense. And B) his mom could smell bullshit a mile away.

“She’s at her place.”

“She’s not at her place. I’ve already been by.”

Mike Paul damn near choked on his coffee. He swallowed what he could and set down the mug. “You went to her place?” Pissed, he didn’t bother to hide it. He glanced at his father, but the man was too busy feeding his dogs the crap they shouldn’t be eating. “Ma, why the hell would you do that?”

This was bad.

“Why do you think?”

“What I think is that it’s none of your business.”

“Don’t take that tone with me.” She yanked a piece of hair from her eyes and tucked it behind her ear. “I told her I’d help with laundry and that we’d spend the morning making Christmas cookies. She was expecting me, and she’s not there, and I figured you would know where she went.”

Confused, Mike Paul took a moment. “Who are we talking about exactly?”

“Your sister,” his mother retorted and gave him a look as if he had two heads. But then her expression changed, it was subtle, and he took a step back because he knew he’d just committed the worst kind of mistake. “Who did you think I was talking about?”

“Ivy would be my guess.”

They all turned as Cobi walked down the stairs, cradling her daughter against her chest. She was wearing a pair of Mike Paul’s pajama pants and an old T-shirt with a bull’s head across the chest. It was ratty with a few tears along the seams, but it was a favorite of his, and he didn’t know how many times he’d retrieved it from the garbage bin because his cleaning lady, who also did his laundry, had tossed it.

“You’re here,” their mother said, obviously surprised.

“Of course, I’m here. I gave Mike Paul a ride home.” She narrowed her eyes. “Where did you think I’d be, mother?” Cobi asked the question lightly, but he saw the look on his sister’s face and knew things were about to get interesting.

“Well, I don’t know.” Melody’s lips were pursed, and she casually swiped at some crumbs on the counter. “You weren’t home.”

“I’m a grown woman. I’m allowed to not be home.” Cobi handed Mike Paul the baby. She rolled her eyes at him, kissed Belinda’s forehead, and then headed for the coffee machine.

His mother didn’t have a comeback for that one because she knew her daughter was right.

“You weren’t supposed to come over until after eleven o’clock.”

“I was up and thought I’d surprise you with hot chocolate and donuts from Sprinkles."

"You could have called.”

“Do I need to make an appointment to see my own daughter?”

“No, but at least be honest about your intentions. I mean, did you really think I went home with someone last night?” Cobi had always been direct, and more often than not, it created some problems between the two women. At the moment, Mike Paul was glad the focus was off him. He repositioned the baby in his arms and settled in to watch.

“You went to see Brandy.”

“And? Is she my pimp?”

“Technically, she’d be a madame,” Mike Paul said, trying like hell to keep the grin from his face.

His mother ignored him. “I’m not inferring anything. I am just worried about you.”

“I’m a big girl mom.”

“Who just had a baby.”

“Yes. Like every other new mother on the planet. The world keeps turning, mother.” Cobi took a sip from her mug and looked over the top of it. “Did you know giraffes push out their kids, and they’re up and running within an hour?”

“You’re not a giraffe.”

“No. But I am a responsible adult, and I don’t need my mother looking over my shoulder wondering if I’m hooking up with anyone.”

“I don’t like that term.” Melody made a face.

“Let me rephrase.” Cobi stared pointedly at her mother. “I don’t need you checking in on who I’m having sex with.”

“Oh God,” their father’s face had turned a shade of red Mike Paul hadn’t seen before.

Cobi smiled, wickedly. “But if you’re wondering?—”

“We’re not.” Everett Darlington turned to his daughter. “We don’t want to know your private business. We just want to make sure you’re okay. This is all new for us.”

Cobi’s face softened. “I’m good, Daddy. Really good .”

Their father got up from his chair and gave his daughter a hug. “I’m glad to hear that.” He turned to his wife. “Aren’t we glad to hear that both of our kids are doing great?”

Mike Paul knew the moment his time was up because his mother turned her focus from Cobi to him.

“Mom, I don’t want to discuss it.” His tone was clipped, and he hoped she’d take the hint.

“It? There’s an it? As in, something going on between you and Ivy Wilkens?” His mother’s voice rose at least an octave. If Mike Paul wanted to head her off before she achieved three-octave status, which would make his dogs howl like wolves, he needed to nip things in the bud now.

Mike Paul looked at his sister for help, and luckily, Cobi had his back.

“Mom. Can we just hit pause on this conversation? It’s too early for an all-out Darlington family fight-fest. Why don’t you take the baby from Mike Paul, and he and I will get breakfast ready. Then you and I can go to my place and make Christmas cookies like we planned.”

Mike Paul didn’t give his mom a chance to speak. He handed the baby over to his mother and proceeded toward the fridge, where he grabbed eggs, bacon, bread, and butter. Cobi handed him a bowl and whispered, “You’re welcome.” He was about to crack the first egg when he heard his mother.

“Um, there’s a teenager watching us from the stairs.”

“That’s Jacob,” he replied casually, before glancing over his shoulder “Jake, these are my folks. You already know my sister. Grab some juice and have a seat.” He looked at his mother and gave a slight shake of the head. Luckily, she didn’t ask the who or the why that was dying to fall from her lips.

And for the next little while, his house was quiet and peaceful. They ate breakfast. Mike Paul and his dad chatted about the Steelers and the Bills, respectively, their two favorite football teams, while his mom settled into Nana mode and cooed over her little granddaughter. Cobi was relaxed, drank her coffee, and kept sending him amused looks—they both knew this was just a reprieve.

Jacob, on the other hand, ate in silence, then disappeared upstairs when he was finished.

Once everyone was done, Mike Paul insisted he’d clean up on his own. He practically pushed them toward the door, and when his parents, along with Cobi, headed in that direction, sighed in relief. It wasn’t often he managed to avoid his mother and her digging. The women walked outside into the bright sunlight, but his father paused. He rubbed at his face and turned to Mike Paul, his expression serious.

“What’s up pop?”

“That the Clappison kid?”

Mike Paul nodded.

“I hear his mother’s quit town.”

“She left a couple weeks ago.”

“His dad still a drunk?”

“I don’t think he’s in great shape at the moment.” Mike Paul sighed. “I’m headed there to see him in a bit.”

“The crowd he hangs with aren’t the kind of folks a man antagonizes. They’re all screwed up. Into pills and booze and the kind of stuff that makes them dangerous.”

“I’ll be careful. Jake’s a good kid, and he and his father needed some space. I want to make sure it’s safe for him to go home.”

“And if it’s not?”

Mike Paul hadn’t thought that far ahead. “I’ll figure it out.”

“And this Ivy situation?”

“God, not you, too.”

His father gave him a wry smile. “I always liked her, you know. She stood up to you boys. Didn’t take your crap.”

“Yeah,” he murmured.

“Just be careful, son. The ones that got away are always the hardest to wrangle.”

He held his father’s gaze for a heartbeat and then nodded. “I will.”

Mike Paul waited until his family left, then closed the door and turned around. Jacob stood by the island, looking unsure and a little lost.

“Why don’t you head out and start the barn chores while I deal with this, then I’ll join you.”

“Okay.” Jacob shuffled a bit, shoulders hunched forward, hands stuffed into his jean pockets. “You’re going to see Dad after we’re done?”

“I am.” Mike Paul took a beat. “We’ll get this figured out, kid. Try not to worry.”

“Your dad seems nice.”

“He’s a good guy.”

“I think I should come with you.”

Mike Paul didn’t think it was such a good idea. At least until he saw the lay of the land himself, but he wasn’t the boy’s father. Or guardian, for that matter. “Why don’t you think about it, and we’ll figure it out when we’re done.”

He watched Jacob head to the mudroom for barn clothes, and then Mike Paul got busy. He had a million things on his to-do list.

And not one included Ivy Wilkens.

It was killing him, but he would wait for her to come to him.