through the back door.
“Great idea,” Grandpa said. “Make some for me.”
“Uh, sure.”
“That’s a very serious expression you’re wearing, young man. Is something on your mind?”
Alex made a face. He wasn’t good at playing it cool. “Yeah, maybe...I don’t know.”
Grandpa grinned. “That kind of answer would drive a courtroom judge crazy.”
Alex started the popper. It was noisy and he was glad to have an excuse not to say anything. He didn’t know what to think. Mom had said it was his choice to see Jackson, so why was the guy calling the house?
After giving Grandpa a bowl of popcorn and topping off his own, Alex went back to the family room. DeeDee was on the floor next to the bookshelf, studying the contents.
She rolled over and grinned at him. “Guess what I found?”
“Not interested.”
“Bet you will be—it’s the yearbook from when Mom was in high school here.”
It was a pain to admit, but DeeDee was right. Grabbing the book she was waving in the air, he sat on the couch and thumbed through the pages.
He stopped at the junior class photos and looked at the picture of his mother. She didn’t look that different from now. In the senior class section he rolled the pages until he came to Jackson McGregor.
DeeDee must have guessed whose picture he was staring at. “What does your birth dad look like?”
“Kind of like me.”
“Nah,” she denied. “Can’t be two faces that ugly in the world.”
“You’ve been waiting to use that line, haven’t you?”
“Natchramento.”
Alex closed the book and tried to concentrate on the ball game. The Mariners had pulled even further ahead, so he ought to be cheering, but something was bugging him. What if his birth dad tried to make trouble? Was that why he’d called?
Maybe this Jackson guy wanted him to move in...or to get custody. He could be trying to make Mom do something else she didn’t want to do. Grandma hadn’t sounded happy on the phone.
Alex didn’t want to live anywhere else, even if he was still mad that Mom hadn’t told him about the adoption and...well, everything. Maybe he should just tell her he’d decided not to see his birth father and ask how soon they could go back to Seattle.
* * *
THAT EVENING KAYLA steamed into Ryan’s Roadhouse, where her grandmother had said Jackson wanted to meet for another discussion. He was seated at the bar, talking on his cell phone as she came closer.
“Hell, no, Morgan...Well, you aren’t a boy, you’re a girl and...Okay, so the rules are different and you...Morgan?” He held out the phone and stared at it. “Hell,” he growled. Glancing up, his eyes narrowed when he saw Kayla standing a few feet away.
“Thanks for coming,” he muttered. “I’ve reserved a table in the back.”
Stiffly Kayla followed him, ignoring the not-so-subtle glances of the other restaurant patrons. She slid into the seat and scowled as Jackson sat across from her.
“I told you I’d be in contact if Alex wanted to meet you. Why did you call the house today?” she demanded.
“What’s the big deal?”
“Oh, nothing, except now it might take another fifteen years for Alex to decide he wants to meet you.”
Jackson’s jaw dropped; he seemed genuinely surprised. “It was a private conversation. How did Alex even know I called?”
“If you’d take your head out of your ass for a minute, you’d remember that teenagers sometimes eavesdrop.”
“A good mother should teach her son not to listen to other people’s conversations,” Jackson shot back. “Of course, he’s probably just following your example.”
“Excuse me?”
“You listened to my call at the bar.”
“That wasn’t eavesdropping,” Kayla said tartly. “Everybody in the room heard you explain there are different rules for girls than for boys. It’s obvious where you stand on equal rights for women.”
He glared.
“But I must say,” Kayla added in a sugary tone, “with such high standards of parenting, your daughter must be an absolute paragon.”
Despite the restaurant’s low light, Kayla could see the antagonism in Jackson’s face. He had to know she’d heard stories about Morgan’s outrageous behavior.
“Leave Morgan out of this,” he said curtly.
“Hey, you’re the one who brought up the issue of parenting skills. As for Alex, meeting you is his choice. But if you do, my concern will be finding the right words to vaccinate him against your influence.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it. You got two girls pregnant within a few months, so who knows how many other children you might have fathered? As I recall, you dated quite a few girls after breaking up with Marcy. Maybe we should plan a reunion and find out.” Perhaps she wasn’t being fair, but at the moment she didn’t care.
“There aren’t any others,” Jackson shot back.
“Oh? I bet a few days ago you would have sworn Morgan was an only child.”
She had him there, as the dull red on his neck could testify. To think she’d once felt lucky because he’d asked her out. Jackson McGregor might have been the biggest heartthrob of the high school, but that didn’t excuse her teenage self from being an idiot. After all, she’d seen her mother in action for years and should have known better.
As for the adult Jackson?
Kayla didn’t particularly like him. He was more attractive than ever but still seemed to be the same stubborn jackass who’d gotten her pregnant and left her high and dry. It wasn’t that she’d expected a romantic marriage proposal, but to be accused of sleeping with half the boys in school?
“All right,” he said through gritted teeth. “But I didn’t have sex with most of the other girls.”
“Most of them?” Kayla let out a mock groan. “Damn, that means Marcy and I were among the few who were foolish enough to fall for your line.”
A muscle twitched along the edge of Jackson’s jaw.
“What’s the matter?” she taunted. “You can dish it out, but not take it?”
“Look, can we just talk about my son? To be frank, I called your grandparents because I thought you might take Alex away without telling him about me.”
Kayla narrowed her eyes. A hot temper was one of her weak points, and right now she wasn’t motivated to keep it in check. “I told you that I’d explained everything to Alex. You thought I was lying?”
“Not exactly, but I couldn’t be sure you were telling the truth, either. Marcy proved how many ways a lie can be told. Since then, I’ve encountered more than my share of women who do the same thing and—”
He cut off his words, possibly because he’d realized how sexist he sounded. Obviously it wasn’t people in general he distrusted, it was the opposite sex.
“Let me guess,” she said. “I’m a woman, so my integrity is automatically in question.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t have to. Growing up with a misogynist must be delightful for your daughter.”
Jackson