back to reality by taking her hand and tugging her downward while he stood on his tip-toes to whisper, “He called me buddy. Tha’ means we’re frien’s.”
“That is what it means,” Jessie confirmed, appreciating that Flint had taken some care with her son’s feelings. Telling herself that that was all she was appreciating about the man.
And all she intended to appreciate about him.
Chapter Two
Flint woke Monday morning to the sound of children’s voices outside, a baby fussing in the next room, water running somewhere nearby and a sprinkler whoosh-whoosh-whooshing in the distance.
Definitely not the quiet of his apartment on the outskirts of Denver.
Then his brother Cooper’s voice drifted to him from somewhere close by, reminding him that he was in Texas. In Red Rock.
Where his mother was born and raised. Where a chunk of his extended family lived. Where his mother had brought him, his two brothers and his sister to visit growing up—usually because she’d wanted to get rid of her kids while she went on yet another honeymoon, or because she needed to finagle money out of some of that extended family between husbands or jobs or cities or any of the other flights of fancy that were always in play with Cindy Fortune.
Flint opened his eyes and recognized the tidy spare bedroom of the house his brother had just moved into. Where he was taking a slight hiatus from his own work to help fix up the place and spend some time with Coop, his newly discovered son, Anthony, and new fiancée, Kelsey, and with he and Coop’s other brother Ross and their sister, Frannie, who also lived in Red Rock.
He’d be spending time with some of the other extended family, too, but for a change that didn’t strike him as such a bad thing.
In the last five months the Fortune family had seen a lot of turmoil that was hopefully beginning to settle down. Turmoil that still came with a whole lot of questions that had yet to be answered because the current head of the family—his Uncle William—had suffered a head injury in a car accident and remained in the throes of amnesia, unable to answer those questions.
But surprisingly to Flint, in the course of all the madness, he and his siblings had learned that they really weren’t considered the black sheep of the Fortune family the way they’d always thought they were. That they were actually thought of as valued members of the group in spite of their mother and the haphazard way she’d raised them. In spite of the fact that none of them had been quite as brilliantly successful as their cousins.
So for once Flint was happy to be in Red Rock, even if all the noise had cost him his last half hour of sleep.
Because it was impossible for him to doze off with the racket outside, he conceded to it, sat up and swung his feet to the floor.
Which left him facing the window aimed at the house next door. The house young Adam had pointed out to him yesterday when he’d first gotten here. Jessie’s house.
That had to be where all the voices were coming from.
For the sake of decency, Flint dragged on his jeans from the day before and a white undershirt. Then he stood and went to the window. The drapes left a gap that gave him a view of the other house even from bed. Now he used a single index finger to nudge them open a few inches more so he could better see out.
Yep, a whole passel of kids were running around in the backyard, where it looked like parts for a swing set or a jungle gym were being delivered.
Flint couldn’t have cared less about that. But he stayed at the window, his gaze drifting up to the one directly across from his.
Jessie’s curtains were open this morning. They hadn’t been when he’d checked last night before he’d gone to bed before closing his own drapes as far as they would go. But there was no sign of Kelsey’s sister, then or now.
He had to laugh a little, though, when he thought about what young Adam had said the day before and the fact that those curtains had been so steadfastly closed last night to ensure that he hadn’t been able to see Jessie put on her pajamas, or even just smile and wave when she saw him.
Too bad.
He wouldn’t have minded getting a glimpse of that petite body, with the great rear end that had tantalized him all the way up the stairs and the hint of firm breasts hidden beneath that oversize T-shirt.
The weird thing was that he also wouldn’t have minded just seeing her wave to him. And for that he had no explanation.
What was he, some schoolboy hoping for just a look at the girl next door? Just a raise of her hand to acknowledge him?
He hadn’t felt like that since he was thirteen. He’d actually stood there for at least half an hour last night hoping she would appear. And here he was again this morning.
She was something to look at, he told himself as consolation for how dumb it seemed.
Not that he hadn’t seen—up close and personal—plenty of women who were something to look at. But a pretty woman was always something to look at. And Kelsey’s sister? She was more than just pretty. A lot more.
When he’d first seen her yesterday, he’d recalled, instantly, the first moment he’d seen her.
She was the woman from Lily’s party who had caught his eye over and over again, long before he’d finally been introduced to her.
Jessie—he’d barely learned her name and he hadn’t had the chance for more than that at the time.
Then all of a sudden yesterday, there she’d been again, in the living room downstairs.
She was lovely. Downright beautiful, actually. Even in baggy jeans and that World’s Greatest Mom T-shirt. Beautiful, but in an approachable kind of way. Natural and artless. And without any indication that she was even aware of her looks.
She had the silkiest hair he’d ever seen—chestnut brown and so shiny that it glistened as it fell to below her shoulders around a face that no man could ignore. Her skin was fresh and flawless, interrupted by only a small, adorable dot of a beauty mark just below the corner of her left eye.
And those eyes, big, round, cocoa-brown, they had the softest look to them. They glimmered a little—they were almost dewy. He’d had trouble glancing away from them.
Until his own gaze had slid down her straight, thin, well-shaped nose to those lush, exquisite lips. Slightly full but not too full. Petal pink. Just the right shape. Perfect whether she was smiling or talking or doing nothing at all with them. Perfect for kissing …
Not that he’d ever know if that was true, he reprimanded himself, shoving aside the thought by altering his view from her bedroom window to her backyard again.
Four kids.
Four!
A mom—however beautiful—who had been widowed somehow and left to raise them on her own. That was a situation shouting for him to stay away.
He was happy for his own three siblings—all married or engaged. But for himself? Marriage wasn’t in the cards.
He’d tried it once, and once was enough. More than enough to confirm what he’d seen of marriage growing up and watching his mother do it again and again. Complicated and difficult and costly. Something that could too easily deteriorate into a very, very ugly situation—that was what marriage was to him, and as far as he was concerned, it didn’t have anything to recommend it.
And the fact that Jessie had four kids?
Flint wasn’t a kid person. One of the worst pieces of news he’d ever received in his life had come last month when word had gotten to him that Anthony might be his. He hadn’t had the foggiest idea what he was going to do if that was true. And he’d never experienced the kind of relief he’d known when the baby had turned out to be Cooper’s