Jules glowered at him, but stood and disappeared down the steps and into the front seat without another word. Pat lingered behind and introduced himself to Miranda. “Didn’t get the chance to meet you in Chicago. I’m Pat.”
“Thank you. I’ve heard a lot about your family.”
Pat turned to me. “You can give Jules more details later.My guess is there’s some layers at play here.” His gaze roamed from my face to Miranda’s then back to mine. I wondered if he was suspicious of Miranda’s bruise. The way she tipped her head down told me she was wondering the same.
Kacey barged onto the front porch with an armful of cars.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to upset her like this. I should’ve talked to her sooner. I’ve just—I don’t know. Been putting it off, I guess.”
“It’s okay, man. Just talk it out with her soon. It’s been a big, emotional week and she’ll feel better once the two of you are synced again. She’s been worried sick with you not picking up.” He shook his head. “You Barkley twins are protective of each other. Still nursing some wounds in that regard.” He rubbed his midsection with a gentle smile.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. I’d knocked him flat on his back right before he and Jules made their relationship official. Thought he was another trashy guy taking advantage of her. Turns out he’s ten times the man I am. “We’re still talking about that?”
“Never gonna stop.” He extended his hand to me, offering a firm shake. “Congratulations are in order, I reckon. And ah, I hope…everything turns out as it should.” He nodded at Miranda. “Nice to meet you and your son.”
Thank you, Pat.
He’d saved Miranda from more embarrassment. She didn’t deserve to be collateral damage in any dispute between me and Jules. Pat saw that. Saw how the conversation would have blown things to a new level. I gave them a wave as they pulled out of the driveway.
Miranda’s cheeks were splotchy red, like she was ready to burst with tears at any moment. She tucked her chin and tried to direct Kacey back into the house, coaxing him withpromises of food. She didn’t want to stay out here with me. Didn’t want me to see her cry.
I stopped her. “That shouldn’t have happened. I’m so sorry.”
“You shouldn’t be.” She said from the doorway, keeping her face turned away. “This is your house, and she’s your sister.”
“But you were put in an awkward situation.”
“I can’t say I blame her for freaking out.”
“Guess we seem a little nuts.”
“A little.” She huffed as she wiped her eyes dry. “Well”—she nodded toward the toddler zooming cars down the handrails—“it doesn’t look like Kacey’s having any trouble making himself at home.” She changed the subject. “Have you eaten? I need to make Kacey something. I wouldn’t mind?—”
“No, Miranda.” I held up a hand to stop her. “You don’t have to cook meals or do anything for me.”
“Oh.” Her gaze followed her son through the yard. “What if Iwantto? Might be fun to cook a little. It’s been so long.”
“You don’t cook much anymore?”
“Um, no. Chris liked eating out.”
Everything I heard about that idiot made me hate him more. “Make yourself at home in the kitchen then. I won’t be the one to stop you.”
A small chuckle spilled from her. I made sure to watch—didn’t want to miss the dimples that made infrequent appearances.
“Speaking of food”—I pulled out my phone—“I need to order some groceries.”
“Don’t buy anything special for us. We aren’t picky.”
Fat chance. Had to get some meat back on her. I shrugged, “I say we make some old favorites. I don’t cook since it’s just me. So it’ll give me a reason to get back in the kitchen, too.”
Miranda and I were both knowledgeable chefs and had shared many fun—and intimate—moments in the kitchen. I tried not to think of the latter. The woman could out-cook me any day of the week. Something I’d never complained about.
Although she claimed my breakfasts were better. Probably because I’m the morning person between the two of us.
“Any particular meals sound good to you?”
“Not really. Whatever you want.”
