you need a haircut and a new pair of shoes,” Brooke told him firmly.
Cole apparently knew that tone, Nate noted. Both boys sighed in resignation and tromped back out toward the driveway, muttering under their breaths the entire way.
“Nicely done,” Nate said, falling into step beside Brooke.
Her expression as resigned as her son’s, she murmured back, “Don’t congratulate either of us until we complete our tasks.”
Nate wasn’t sure what she meant. He found out twenty minutes later, when they entered the unisex hair salon. Brooke went over with Cole to talk to the stylist taking walk-in appointments, and then sat down to read a magazine.
Landry glared at Nate, cutting off any attempt on his part to do the same. “If I have to do this, I’m doing it my way,” he growled as another available stylist walked toward them.
Figuring anything would be an improvement if it got the hair out of the boy’s eyes, Nate nodded and gave him free rein. “I’ve got a call to make. I’ll be right outside.”
He stepped out into the mall. When he came back twenty minutes later, Cole was finished. His hair was cut in traditional adolescent-boy layers. He looked preppy and well-groomed. Brooke seemed pleased.
Landry was finished, too.
“You don’t like it, do you?” he challenged, after Nate had paid the cashier.
But Brooke’s son did. “You look like a punk rocker,” Cole observed admiringly.
Which, Nate figured, Landry had done to tick him off.
Aware that Landry was waiting for him to lose his cool, Nate glanced at the new cut. The hair on top of Landry’s head was short, spiky and stood straight up. The rest was thinned and layered, and fell almost to his shoulders. “Looks trendy,” Nate said, and left it at that.
The teen scowled. “You can’t like it,” he insisted.
Which meant, Nate thought, Landry didn’t like it.
Nate shrugged. “Your hair, your choice.”
The boy’s eyes narrowed. All rebellious teenager again, he pointed out, “You didn’t say that when you were making me get my hair cut.”
“My bad,” Nate admitted, realizing too late he shouldn’t have forced the issue.
Landry continued to glare at him. Finally, realizing Nate was sincere in his reversal, he scowled and said nothing more.
Brooke glanced at Nate as the boys walked on ahead.
The empathy in her eyes made him feel better. Although he still didn’t know what he was doing in terms of being the dad Landry seemed to want and need.
The two teens paused in front of a popular clothing store known for its appeal to teenagers.
As they stood there, Nate noticed the longing on Landry’s face. It had obviously been months since anyone had bought clothes for him, and Jessalyn would probably not have known to come here. “This okay with you?” Nate asked.
Landry’s expression transformed. He looked at the cargo-shorts and T-shirt-clad model in the window with exaggerated disdain. “Sure,” he drawled sarcastically, “why not? If you’re going to torture me, why not torture me all the way?”
“Enthusiasm,” Nate murmured, resisting the urge to clap an affectionate hand on the lad’s shoulder. “Just what I want to see.” Stuffing fingers in his pockets, he followed Landry inside. Brooke and Cole sauntered in after them. The boys headed straight for the racks of T-shirts.
An hour later, they walked out with enough clothing to see Landry through the rest of the summer.
Next stop was the shoe store, where Landry and Cole both got new athletic shoes and sandals.
Hamburgers, shakes and fries followed. It was nine o’clock before they returned to Nate’s place.
“We’re sleeping in the caretaker’s cottage tonight,” Brooke told Cole, when he got out of Nate’s Jaguar.
“Then I want to sleep there, too,” Landry said.
Brooke looked at a loss.
Nate figured it was one battle best not fought that evening. Tabling his own disappointment, he said, “If it’s okay with you, it’s okay with me.” His primary concern was that Landry be safe.
Brooke hesitated. It was clear she felt like a traitor to what Nate was trying to do, but also knew the dynamics of the situation. She turned and put a hand on each teen’s shoulder. “Then let’s go, guys.”
FOR THE NEXT HOUR, Nate roamed the mansion, trying to envision how it would appear when Brooke was finished with the makeover.
The more he looked around, the more it seemed he had given her an impossible task.
The rooms were all too large. There were too many of them. Even without the contemporary black and white furnishings, it was too big and cold and sterile.
No wonder Cole and Landry had eagerly gone off with Brooke to the now-cozy caretaker’s cottage.
Given the choice, Nate would have preferred the smaller abode, too.
And no wonder Landry preferred being with Brooke over him. Spending time with her probably reminded him of home.
Ironically, Cole didn’t seem to mind spending time with him, Nate thought as he changed clothes and went down to the pool for a swim. In fact, Brooke’s son seemed eager to get acquainted with him. It was only his son-to-be, Nate thought as he swam lap after lap, who couldn’t have cared less if they developed a rapport.
And that could spell trouble in the future, he realized, as he climbed from the pool, his workout ended.
Just then the cottage door opened and Brooke crossed the lawn. Nate ran a towel over his face and hair, then draped it around his waist.
Brooke had changed out of her business clothes into a figure-hugging T-shirt, running shorts and flip-flops. She’d swept her hair into a silky knot on the back of her head. She looked pretty and at ease in that mom-next-door way.
“Landry and Cole asleep?” he asked.
“Yes.” Her expression went from genial to concerned.
“You don’t have to say it.” Nate grabbed the water bottle he’d brought out with him, and drank deeply. Aware they’d known each other only a few days, but were already talking with the candor of two people who had known each other for years, he sighed. “I know I blew it tonight.”
Brooke’s eyes softened. “That’s not what I came over here to say.”
Maybe not in those exact words … Disappointed in how he was handling the situation, Nate made no effort to hide his mounting frustration. He wasn’t just a CEO, capable of starting a company from scratch and building it into a resounding success, he also had a background in sales. Years of experience honing the winning pitch had schooled him on how to gain the confidence of those who barely knew him. Yet despite all that he was failing mightily with the one person who needed to believe in him most. Failing Landry in the same way Nate himself had been let down in his youth. “Then … what did you want to say?” he asked impatiently.
Brooke perched on the edge of a round, wrought-iron patio table, gripping the edge. “You’re pushing him too hard.”
As Nate moved closer, the shimmering blue from the swimming pool illuminated the otherwise dark night with a soothing glow. There was enough light for him to see the self-conscious color creeping into her fair cheeks. “All that stuff had to get done today.”
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