She stared at the Amazon box and told herself it couldn’t be nearly as bad as she imagined—then hoped she wasn’t lying. He turned back to Kirk. Jack laughed, then flung himself at Lucas, fearless at the midair transfer.
“How’s my man?” Lucas asked, holding Jack comfortably. “High five.”
He held up his hand. Jack smacked his palm against Lucas’s, then laughed even more.
They went into the backyard. Lucas put Jack down and the toddler ran around, shrieking. Jen did her best not to roll her eyes. This always happened. Lucas overexcited the boy. Later, she would have trouble getting Jack to sleep.
Lucas took the Amazon box and the beer from her, then winked. A gesture of friendship or mockery? With him, she was never sure. He crossed to the built-in outdoor kitchen, opened a drawer and pulled out a bottle opener. After popping the top on two beers, he hesitated, then glanced at her.
“Did you—” he began.
“No. I’m fine.”
Like most pregnant women, Jen had completely given up alcohol, but even after Jack was born, she hadn’t gone back. She was too afraid her son might need her. She had to be alert and vigilant at all times.
Lucas stuck the rest of the six-pack in the minifridge, then drew a pocketknife out of his pocket. He slit the tape on the box and set it on the ground in front of Jack.
Her son squatted down and peered inside. Slowly, his eyes widened and his mouth turned up in delight. He pulled out a blue-and-white... Jen squinted. What on earth?
“That is a genuine B. Woofer guitar,” Lucas told him. He removed the packaging, then settled the strap on Jack’s small shoulder. The guitar hung down to his thighs.
“You hold it like this,” Lucas told him, placing his hands on the neck and body. “See these buttons? When you push them, they make music. They’re called chords. I’m sure your mom will teach you all about them.”
Jen listened in dismay as she heard a full chord being played by the guitar. Apparently every button was a chord. They could be played individually or together. While that would be an excellent way to learn music, the noise potential was terrifying.
“And over here?” Lucas pointed. “There are preprogrammed songs. A bunch of different ones. If you push the little dog button?” He winked at Jen again. “You get dog songs. Cool, huh?”
Jack looked unsure as he pushed the yellow button with the note on it. Sure enough a song began to play. His eyes lit up and he turned toward her, wanting to share the joy of the moment.
Jen smiled even as she looked at her husband and murmured, “I’m going to kill him.”
“It’s a great toy.”
“You’re not going to be stuck home with it.” She glanced back at the guitar. “Did he check out the age suggestions? That seems really advanced for Jack.”
Kirk put his arm around her. “Honey, let it go for now. Later you can check it for small parts. Lucas is a great guy and he adores Jack. That should be enough.”
Why? Why should it be enough? Why shouldn’t Kirk’s partner have to abide by the rules when he was at their home? Why did Lucas always make her feel like the most boring, traditional person on the planet? He was the frat boy, party guy and she was the house mother. It wasn’t fair.
She wanted to stomp her foot, but that wouldn’t accomplish anything. Instead she smiled tightly, murmured a quick, “Thanks, Lucas,” then escaped into the kitchen.
The bag of groceries he’d brought contained three massive steaks, a large container of blue cheese potato salad and, kind of surprising, two jars of organic toddler food. Root vegetables with turkey and quinoa.
Kirk walked into the kitchen. He took the jar from her. “See. He’s not all bad. You like this brand.”
“Maybe.”
Lucas walked in with Jack on his hip. Jen was grateful that the guitar had been left outside. She would put it away and bring it out only when Jack was rested. Teaching him about music would be good, she thought reluctantly. She was sure she’d read somewhere that music appreciation helped with math skills.
“Someone has a dirty diaper,” Lucas said, handing Jack to his father. “Uncle duty only goes so far.”
Kirk laughed. “I’ll take care of it.”
He reached for his son and carried him out of the room. Jen found herself alone with Lucas and unsure what to say.
“Thank you for the steaks,” she began. “And the salad and baby food.”
“I hope it’s the right one. I know you want him only eating good stuff, so I asked a lady at the grocery store.”
“Did you also get her number?” The words popped out before she could stop them.
Lucas leaned against the counter and raised an eyebrow. “She was married, Jen. I don’t date married women. Plus, she was too old.” His mouth twitched. “Probably thirty.”
“How depressing for you.” She faced him. “Why do they have to be so young?”
“They’re uncomplicated.”
“Whatever do you talk about?”
“Who talks?”
Her smile was involuntary. Fine—if he was going to sass her, she could sass right back. She folded her arms across her chest. “Great. So there’s six minutes filled. What do you do the rest of the time?”
He winked. “I share my life’s wisdom.”
“You’re full of crap.”
“Maybe, but I’m having a great time.” He lifted a shoulder. “One day they’ll stop taking my calls, but until then, it’s good to be me.”
“Don’t you ever get lonely?”
“Nope. That would require an emotional depth I don’t have.” He flashed her a winning smile. “Don’t try to reform me. It’s not going to happen. I like my life and don’t see any reason to change.”
Which was all fine and good, but she didn’t like that he was so different from her husband. What if he tried to lead Kirk astray? What if Kirk was intrigued by all those young possibilities?
She glanced toward the hallway, then back at Lucas.
“I don’t understand why you have to date twenty-year-olds, but that’s not my business. What I need to know is that you’ll take care of him. If something bad happens.”
Lucas’s smile faded. “You have my word, Jen.”
Which could have reassured her, only she didn’t know what his word was worth.
Mischief in Motion was a well-known Pilates studio in town. The storefront was light and bright and probably appealing to people who, you know, liked exercise. Zoe had done her best to avoid anything that would make her sweat so she’d never ventured inside. Until today.
Not only did she have to work on her muscle mass, as demonstrated by the attic incident, she wanted to see if Jen’s mom was still a regular. She and Pam had always gotten along, and Pam kind of reminded her of her own mother. These days, a little maternal TLC seemed like a good thing. And if a little Jen-focused advice was shared, as well, all the better. To be honest, Zoe had no idea what to do about her friend. They were drifting apart and she didn’t know how to make that stop.
Wearing her newly purchased discount store Pilates workout gear—aka black leggings and an oversize T-shirt, she went inside to register for the class.
There