Chapter 8

J.T. needed to rethink what came next out of his mouth. Asking what color underwear she wore tonight didn’t seem smart. Not if he planned to steer clear of the danger zone. And going down on Hope definitely counted as an iffy maneuver. He started the car and headed toward the bowling alley.

“Ah, what color ball do you like to use?”

She gave him an odd look. “I generally use a twelve-pound ball. I don’t really care what color it is.”

“Yeah.” He fiddled with the radio, needing to fill the silence so he could ignore the raunchy thoughts filling his head. Most of them involving Hope and that sexy perfume she wore, her rubbing it all over him, naked body to naked body.

“Did you do any tattoos today?” Hope asked.

He glanced at her, not surprised to find himself wanting to smile. Something about the woman always put him in mind of growing things, vibrant flowers, and happiness. Even sitting, Hope seemed animated, full of energy.

“Yep. That’s my job. Tattooing people.”

“What did you draw?”

She was probably searching for a safe topic of conversation. Yet the more questions she asked, the more he thought she might really be interested in his job.

By the time they arrived at the bowling alley, he’d had her laughing at a few of Grim and Vargas’s fights, Suke’s antics with Nao, and a client he’d turned away a second time for sheer stupidity.

“I swear, the guy comes in one more time, I might actually tattoo a pile of crap on his forearm and let him deal with the fallout of a pissed-off wife forever. A poop emoji for a tattoo? Who does that?”

“A guy who wants a divorce, that’s who.”

He grinned at her, in complete agreement.

They bowled a warm-up game, and it amused him to see her so competitive. She’d complained before about her mother’s inability to lose. Seemed like maybe Hope wasn’t as different from her mother as she thought she was.

“So last night, we learned all about me,” she said as he lined up to bowl. No doubt trying to screw up his spare streak.

“Oh, we learned all about you,” he said, bowled, and ended up in the gutter, just like his thoughts. Yeah, I learned how sweet that pussy tastes, how fine you look in a red fucking thong, and how your laughter makes me feel goofy good. Nothing safe there that he could add. Though by the blush staining her cheeks, he didn’t need to.

“Why is everything out of your mouth full of innuendo?” She bent over to grab her ball.

He groaned. “I’m sorry. It’s not easy, okay? I’m doing my best to stop remembering last night.” His voice lowered as he looked her over, from her lavender button-down shirt to the jeans that clung to her in all the right places. “I’m trying, but…I can still taste you.”

She blew out a breath. “Stop.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going to grab us something to eat. What do you want?”

She gave him a wobbly smile. “Surprise me.”

He returned with a pitcher of root beer and cheese fries. Nothing that could remotely be considered nutritious. He’d have to work extra hard at the gym to burn off the calories. But unlike Lou and Heller, who seemed to think anything not on the food pyramid a sin, J.T. liked to indulge. It gave him something to work off when hitting the heavy bag or doing dead lifts.

Hope gave him a big smile and drank the soda he poured for her. “I’d be mad at your unhealthy choices, but one, this is a bowling alley. And two, I’m beating you.”

He glanced at the score on the monitor above their lane to see she’d nailed a strike. He sighed. “Yeah, yeah, now shut up while I bowl.”

He hit a few pins, his concentration shot. He’d gotten lucky earlier, but ever since he’d confessed to still tasting her, he found that no amount of root beer and fries could dilute her essence. It was like she was inside him, which was both crazy and scary and weirding him the hell out. Yet he couldn’t stop himself from sitting right damn next to her while they snacked between bowling.

They finished the game and paused before their second.

“I won,” she said in a singsong tone.

He glared. “Smugness does not become you.”

She laughed. “Don’t worry, I’ll go easy on you in the next game. So while we’re on a break, tell me all about you. Wait, let me amend that. Tell me the important stuff that has nothing to do with sex.”

He feigned disappointment, which made her laugh again. That light, easy sound made his heart heavy. He wanted to just sit and stare at her for hours. God, I need to stop acting like a teenager with a crush.

“Aren’t you hungry?” she asked, pointing at the mound of fries he’d put on a plate but hadn’t touched.

“Yeah.” He forced himself to eat. “So, um, let’s see. I’m thirty-two, be thirty-three later next month.”

“Oh? When? My birthday is the eleventh.”

He smiled. “Mine’s the thirty-first. So you’re almost the big three-oh, eh?”

She didn’t need the reminder.

“Hey, it’s a good year.” He shrugged at her frown. “What? It’s just one year past twenty-nine. No biggie. I made it and am still going strong.” He made a muscle, pleased when she fixated on it, then blushed and glanced away at her food. Hope liked the way he looked. Hell yeah.

“Okay, you’re almost thirty-three. What else?”

“For the record, most of which you already know, I have one dad, Liam. My sister, Delilah. Try calling her that, and she hits you.” He sighed. “Little sister, what can I do? Then there’s my cousin, Rena, and my Aunt Caroline. I told you, she was my mom’s sister. My mom died when I was a kid, and my dad married Del’s mom, who was a bitch.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Mean to me, meaner to Del. She was all about getting high and screwing guys not my dad.” He shook his head. “But Dad wanted to keep Del, so he tolerated Penelope. Sad thing is Del looks a lot like her, but we don’t tell her that.”

After a moment, Hope said, “Liam’s with Sophie now, so obviously it didn’t last.”

“Nope. Penelope left us after a few years. Died in a car accident. It took Del a while to get over it, but I was fine. Dad too. I don’t think he ever loved her, to tell you the truth. He was so lost after my mom died that he wasn’t himself for a long, long time.”

And that had hurt. J.T. had lost his mother. He could only remember vague things after all this time, the scent of honeysuckle, her soft voice crooning a lullaby. But the melody never came together for him, and her face was a blur, the picture tucked away in a drawer at home his only reminder.

“I’m sorry.” Hope stroked his hand, squeezed, then let him go.

He shrugged. “It’s okay. It happened nearly thirty years ago. Hard to miss something you never had. Instead, I had hard-ass Liam Webster trying to keep me in line.”

“What a chore.”

He grinned. “No doubt. I grew up helping the old man around the garage. And I hated it. Unlike most boys, I didn’t want grease under my nails. I hated playing with power tools. I wanted to paint and draw even back then. But I will say I’ve always liked girls.” He batted his lashes, and she gave him a weak slug to the arm. “Ow. Quit trying to sabotage me for game two.”

“Yeah, like that hit is going to sink you. Dream on. You suck all on your own.”

“So cruel.” He dabbed an invisible tear. “Anyway, that’s pretty much all there is to know.”

“Bull. So your dad had you working at the garage that you hated. You liked art better, and…?”

“And what?”

“Tell me more. About your childhood, growing up. Those hints about you being a baddie during your teen years.”

“You like that, don’t you? The tougher and meaner the guy, the better, eh?”

She grinned. “You know it.”

He wanted to kiss her right then, right there, but refrained. Barely. “Right. So, ah, Aunt Caroline helped Liam raise me. She did her best, but I was a handful. And frankly, Dad ended up taking care of Rena and Aunt Caroline in between running off Aunt Caroline’s idiot husbands. She’s had five. Every one a deadbeat. And the guys in between were awful. Users, abusers, generally poor excuses for human beings. I have no idea why. Aunt Caroline is fine. She’s funny and smart, but so clueless when it comes to men.” Hope looked away, her discomfort obvious. “Hope?”

“I’m just like your aunt.” She dragged her gaze back to his, embarrassment shining in her eyes. “I pick losers too.”

“Aw, honey. No you don’t. You’re here with me, remember.”

She gave a weak laugh. “You must be the exception. That’s why I’m on a dating hiatus. I keep going out with guys who are all wrong for me.” She took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. “But that’s another story.” One he’d make sure they got to. “Finish telling me about you.”

He had no idea what she was digging for. J.T. wasn’t that deep. But what the hell. “I graduated high school, which was a miracle. I found it boring and knew I didn’t want college anyway, not that we could afford it. I liked wrestling, did a little bit of football. But then practice started getting in the way of my social life. ’Cause I was a social butterfly back in the day.” He wiggled his brows, and she laughed, relieving him that she no longer looked like she was going to cry. “I was done with school and started hanging with the wrong crowd. I might have gone to jail a time or two for being stupid. Some fights, a small count of shoplifting, which was BS because my buddy Troy stuffed a box of tampons in my jacket pocket as a joke and I got busted for it. Obviously not mine.”

“Obviously.” She snickered.

“I laughed until they locked me up. To say Liam wasn’t happy is an understatement.”

“Oh. Did he yell at you?”

“Ah, yeah. He yelled. And whooped my ass. Apparently eighteen is not too old to get spanked. My father is such a dinosaur,” he said with affection, loving the old man.

She nodded, her eyes wide.

“Anyhow, I took some time to find myself. Kept drawing, kept working for my dad, then figured out I wanted to tattoo people for a living. A lot of Dad’s friends had tattoos, and I was already thinking of ways to make them better. It took me a year of school, then two years apprenticing under this awesome guy. Anyway, that’s boring stuff. I traveled the country, taking jobs in different studios that weren’t too particular about licensing. My art got better and better, and I got serious. Came back to Seattle, started my own studio. I’m licensed here, all legit. Now I own Tull Paint & Body, and the rest is history.”

It was gratifying to see her hanging on to every word, and a little unnerving. Hope listened with intensity.

“So no ex-wives or kids?”

“Nope.”

“You didn’t want any?”

“You seem pretty fixated on my personal life.” He gave her a sly smile. “Interested?”

“Yes, because that’s what my mother will want to know.” She gave him a sly smile back. “I’m happy I won’t be lying when I tell her you saw the inside of a cell.” At his groan, she laughed. “I’m kidding. But I’m serious about the relationship part. What about that? You’re still a social butterfly, huh?”

“Nah. Not anymore. You ask Del, she’ll call me a whore. But then, she thinks dating more than two people in a year is loose. And not at the same time. I mean, one girl, then breaking up and going out with another. I’m a lot of things, but I’m not a cheat.” He frowned. “I saw enough of that with Aunt Caroline’s husbands. Not for me. When I’m with you, I’m with you.”

She studied him. “Right. So, um, what else? What do you do for fun?”

He smiled.

She frowned and in a lower voice said, “Outside the bedroom.”

“You’re so much fun to tease.” He chuckled. “I like a lot of things. Bowling, for example. I still draw for fun. I like movies, lifting weights. I’m not a runner, but I don’t mind long walks, sightseeing.”

“Wait. Long walks? Like hiking or camping?”

“Hell, no. If it’s not a hotel or a real bed, I’m not interested. I’m talking about long walks in the city or a park. No tents involved. And not too much nature, or I’ll be jonesing for city streets.”

“Ah. Gotcha. Me too.”

He nodded. “Not a fan of bugs and sleeping on the ground by choice. I mean, it’s one thing if you don’t have a place to crash. I lived out of my car for a few months when I first got started, back when I was traveling out east. But as soon as business picked up, I was renting a room with a bed and indoor plumbing.”

She laughed. “I’m with you on that. What about your favorite food?”

“Caesar salad.” At her look, he felt the need to defend himself. “What? I like the croutons, and I like it with chicken. I know, it’s weird. Next question.”

“Favorite color?”

He stared into her eyes. “Brown. Like, honey-brown. That golden color between yellow and mocha. I’m all about colors.” He reached out and stroked her cheek.

“Stop.” She didn’t shy away, he noticed.

They sat that way, staring into each other’s eyes. He knew it was beyond insane to kiss her again, but he felt himself leaning in…

“Well, well. Who do we have here?”

He and Hope sprang apart as his sister plunked her sorry ass at their table. “What luck! Mike and Colin and I were wanting to bowl, but this place is packed. Can we join your little party of two?” Del smiled at Hope, but her eyes narrowed on him with an expression clearly not friendly.

“Sure.” Hope nodded. “We’re on a break before our next game anyway. We can wait.”

Mike and Colin McCauley soon joined them. They looked like the big and small versions of the same person. Dark-haired, blue-eyed, and smiling. They even dressed alike, wearing jeans and Chicago Bulls T-shirts.

“The Bulls?” J.T. asked.

Mike sighed. “From Grandpa. He’s got this Chicago bug up his butt lately.”

Colin smirked. “I’m telling Grandpa you said that, Dad. Oh, hi, J.T.!”

“Do it and die.” Mike grabbed Colin and hung him upside down, then tickled him.

The boy shrieked with laughter. “Save me, J.T.! Save me!”

Del covered her face with her hand. “Mike, if you get us kicked out of here, I will personally geld you.”

“What’s gelding?” Colin asked between giggles. “Hi, Hope. Can I have some of your fries?”

Hope grinned. “Sure. Want some root beer too?”

“No,” Mike said and walked away with his boy, still upside down and clinging to him like a monkey.

Del watched them go, then turned to study him with Hope.

“What?”

“You’d better not be on a date,” she growled.

“Hey.” J.T. took offense.

“Don’t worry, Del.” Hope smirked. “He’s not ruining your ecosystem.”

Del blushed. “He told you that?”

“I sure did.” J.T. gave his sister a mean smile. “So did you tell them about the baby yet?”

“Shh. I’m going to Monday night.”

“What the hell are you waiting for?”

“For the doctor’s appointment, dumbass. I had to reschedule last Monday for this coming Monday. But I took a half dozen more tests, and they’re all positive.” She looked excited and nervous.

Aw, his little sister was gonna have a baby. He stood up, rounded the table, and yanked her into his arms. “I’m so happy for you, Del.”

She hugged him back, and she was no slouch. His sister had plenty of muscle. When she pulled back, he saw tears in her eyes.

“Damn it, stop. I’m trying not to cry when I think about it. These are tears of happiness,” Del said hurriedly. “So don’t stress out just because of the waterworks. I’m super excited.”

Hope smiled. “That’s so awesome. Mike’s having another baby. I bet Colin will be pumped. He’s been wanting a sibling for a while. Cousin Jane isn’t impressive. Not only is she too little, she’s a girl. Cam told me Colin’s hoping for a little brother someday.”

Del laughed. “He’s such a little punk. Just like Mike.” She looked so happy, she glowed. Or maybe that was the baby. J.T. didn’t know. He only knew that this was what he’d always wanted for his sister. Happily ever after.

And if Mike ever did anything to mar his sister’s joy, J.T. would pound the guy into the ground and make sure no one ever found the body.

“So how’s Jekyll?” The puppy Colin claimed as his own was now a huge bundle of fur and over a year old. Not so little, yet still young enough that he had more energy than J.T. could handle.

“He’s still growing. Can you believe that? He’s seriously almost as big as Hyde.”

“Brody’s dog?” Hope asked. Brody was her cousin, a pseudo-adopted McCauley.

“Man, there are just too many McCauleys and Donnigans in Seattle,” he complained. “I mean, I’m bowling with Hope. You married Mike. Then Dad’s dating Sophie, and Hope works for Cam… I could go on.”

“Please, don’t,” Hope said.

Del laughed. “Yeah, don’t. And don’t even think of getting romantic with her,” she warned him.

Hope raised a brow, and he watched her icy transformation with fascination, not having seen this side of her. “What if I want to get romantic with him?”

Del looked puzzled. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe I want to take a walk on the wild side.”

“Hey.”

Hope ignored him. “We’re fully grown adults who can make our own decisions.”

Del gaped. “Oh my God. You’re so channeling your mother right now.”

“That was just mean.” Hope frowned.

“Ack. I’ll be back with reinforcements. I can’t handle Linda Donnigan when I haven’t had dinner yet.” Del darted away.

Hope groaned. “She just ruined my night.”

J.T. grinned. “Yeah? She made mine. Hope, when you get all bossy like that, you make me…”

“I make you what?” She gave him that stare, and his entire body went haywire.

He quickly sat across from her, taking Del’s spot. “Never mind. I suggest we shelve the getting-to-know-you conversation. Even though you pretty much got all my high points.”

“Okay. But I reserve the right to ask one or two more questions.”

“Sure.” He nodded. “You earned them for taking on Del and winning. That girl has a mouth that doesn’t quit. And you sent her running to her big, bad husband with her tail between her legs.” He cupped his chin in his hand, his elbow on the table, and gazed at her. “My hero.”

“Shut up.”

He just laughed.

* * *

By the time Del and family returned, they had more soda and two pizzas on order, and Hope had added their names to the computer. Del studied her brother and Hope, wondering what his game was. He knew better. He’d accepted her marrying into the McCauley clan, and she knew he liked Mike, loved Colin, and respected her in-laws. Heck, he got along with all the McCauleys and their wives—he was right, there were a ton of them all over Seattle.

Colin idolized her brother, not that Del blamed him. J.T. had taken care of her for a long time. Her big brother had protected her from bullies, taught her to swear, to hold a wrench (though her father still claimed that he’d been the one to show her how to use one), and to deal with not having a mother.

Del couldn’t have asked for a better brother. His one weakness—relationships with the opposite sex.

While Del had thought herself not good enough to marry for the longest time, J.T. had no delusions about his worth. Her cocky brother knew he looked good and capitalized on the fact. But he was a commitment-phobe, scarred, no doubt, by their father’s inability to connect after losing Bridget.

But this… J.T. had always dated a certain kind of woman. People like the Websters—hardworking, street-smart, those who knew the score. Oh sure, the women he entertained wanted more than a few nights or weeks in the sack with him, but J.T. inevitably drifted away.

Here, with Hope Donnigan? Hope was different than his usual type. For one thing, she wasn’t dressed in hooker heels, low-cut tops, and short skirts, which J.T. seemed to favor. For another, her brother charmed women. He seduced them, which meant dinner, followed by a night at the lady’s place. A movie, maybe. A party, a night spent staying in, just the two of them. Not bowling, something J.T. did with family or the guys.

Del had heard he’d brought Hope to Ray’s as well. And that the pair had been laughing, finishing each other’s sentences, and in general looking good together.

Together—her brother and a Donnigan.

This had disaster written all over it.

And after she’d personally educated him on the McCauley ecosystem, which she thought the perfect way of describing their new relationships via her marriage to Mike.

Mike caught her eye, glanced at Hope and J.T., who were chatting with Colin, and glanced back at her.

Later, she mouthed. He nodded. Then he drew her in close and kissed her.

Every worry darted from her mind, and she sighed, so blessed to have found her soul mate, a concept she’d found corny as hell before Mike. She’d rather be tortured than tell anyone that, but he knew.

She pulled away, wanting this kind of love for her brother. Yet J.T. had to be ready for it. And he…

Was totally looking all moony and swoony at Hope.

“Oh my God.”

J.T. turned to her with a frown. “What’s your problem now?”

“Nothing.” She felt Mike’s pinch on her arm and slapped at him.

“Now, now, Delilah. No hitting in public. Set an example for the boy.” He nodded to Colin.

“Shut it, McCauley.” She gave him a mock glare, then pointed at J.T. “We’ll talk later.” She glared at Hope, feeling free to treat her as family. “You too.”

“Ooh, I’m so scared.” Hope scrunched up her face and put her hands in the air like fake claws. “Grrr.”

Colin laughed and edged even closer to J.T., practically sitting on his lap. “Hope’s so funny! J.T., show her how you can knock down all the pins. He’s so good, Hope. You should see.” Colin had a clear case of hero-worship for his favorite tattoo artist.

J.T. smiled. “Well, now that you’re here, Colin, I can take the kid gloves off. You’re in for it now, Donnigan. Colin told me to show you how good I really am.”

“Yeah?” Hope snorted. “Bring it, Webster. If your ego doesn’t get in the way.”

“Oooh, fighting words,” Colin whispered.

Mike laughed. “Your family is so dramatic,” he said to Del.

“My family? You’re kidding, right?”

They watched J.T. and Hope continue to taunt each other, with Colin getting a few insults in edgewise.

“Are you seeing what I’m seeing?” Mike said in a low voice.

“Yeah.” But she didn’t know if that was necessarily a bad thing. J.T. seemed to be…more. Happy, alive, real. He used no gloss with Hope. No suave facade or player vibe.

As usual, women around them paid attention to her brother. The women in lane four. The older moms with kids in lane six. Her brother attracted the ladies without trying. So she could see Hope liking him.

Yet Hope wasn’t dating, or hadn’t been in months. Del had heard all about it from her mother-in-law, who’d heard it from Cam, who’d heard it from Hope herself. So was tonight an actual date? A meeting between friends with loose ties? Or something more?

Del wanted to know. And she knew how to get answers.

“Before you start grilling my cousin, I need to talk to you,” Mike said. In a louder voice he added, “We’ll be right back. Colin, stay with J.T. and Hope.” He dragged her to a quiet area near the restrooms. The joy in his eyes told her he knew. Damn.

He crossed his massive arms over his chest. “So?”

“So what?” She felt nervous.

“Are you or not?” He scowled. Big, burly, tough Mike McCauley, Mr. Marshmallow to his kid and those he loved. And he loved her, of that she had no doubt. He looked nervous, hopeful, and scared. His first wife had died in childbirth. This would not be easy, but they’d get through it. Together.

She sighed. “How did you know?”

He shrugged and fiddled with his keys, unable to keep still. “I saw the trash overflowing with pregnancy tests, genius. Way to keep it a secret.”

She wanted to be mad at his attitude, but his nerves made her want to cuddle him, tell him they’d be okay. “I put that trash in the bin outside.”

He sighed. “You didn’t tie off the bag, like you’re supposed to. We don’t just dump trash in the can.”

“Obsessive-compulsive much?” she muttered.

“What’s that? Speak up, smart-ass. I can’t hear you.” He stopped fiddling and smiled, his blue eyes filled with so much love. “I swear if you are, I hope it’s a girl. And she’s just like you.”

Del sniffed. She would not cry. “I might be.”

“Might be?”

“I see the doctor on Monday.”

“I’m coming with you.”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

They smiled at each other, and Del laughed. “I love you, Mike.”

“I love you, Delilah.” He kissed her, then hugged her until she squeaked. “Oh, sorry. Don’t want to damage the goods.” He rubbed her tummy, and she saw tears in his eyes. “I promise I’ll try not to freak out for the next nine months. But Del…” He paused and glanced at J.T., Hope, and Colin waving at them to return.

“Yes?”

“I know how much you love J.T. Colin idolizes him, and he really wants a baby brother.”

“And?”

“And as much as I’d do anything for you, I’m not naming my next kid Jethro Tull McCauley. Just sayin’. One J.T. in the family is enough.”

She snickered with him. “And that’s why I love you. We’re so totally on the same page.”