The Accidental Encore Page 6

“It’s a good day to hole up. I had to run to the grocery store and I got soaked.” She stretched out on the floor in the corpse pose to the relief of her aching back. “So, how was your weekend?”

  “You mean my date?” Allie asked. “I know that’s why you’re calling.”

  “Well, I waited two days to call. I thought that was plenty of time for you to be objective about the dentist.”

  “I went out with the dentist last night.”

  Oh, no. How like Allie to jump in with both feet and leave common sense at the door. She really was desperate for a date to the wedding. “Two dates in one weekend? Did you hit the jackpot out of the gate?”

  “One date. One emergency.”

  “What emergency?” Melissa asked. “Is everything okay?”

  “One of the girls I teach started her period.”

  “Oh. Okay.” Wait, Melissa thought, her sleep deprived mommy mind two steps behind as usual. “Why were you involved with this?”

  “It was Leah, with the dysfunctional uncle who hit me in the car. The guy is…”

  Melissa held her breath. There had to be something about this guy for Allie to obsess about him again.

  “He’s totally immature,” Allie continued. “His niece gets her period and he’s so inept, he calls her piano teacher. Thankfully, Leah was more grateful to have a woman around than embarrassed. She’s an absolute doll. He, on the other hand, is a Neanderthal. Not only did I have to reschedule my date with Allen the dentist, but he got inside my head about my outfit. I swear he may as well have come along for dinner the next night.”

  Hummmm. So she was thinking of the immature uncle when on her date with the dentist. “So the date didn’t go well?”

  “It went. He’s sort of attractive, if you overlook the thinning hair and his enormous ego. His practice is thriving. He’s just upgraded his Mercedes. His ex-wife is a lying bitch, but he’s not bitter. Total nightmare. And I swear the whole night he kept looking at my teeth.”

  Melissa sat up and attempted to do the fire log pose with the phone tucked between her shoulder and her chin. “You have beautiful teeth.”

  “And yet it wouldn’t take him but one appointment to file down my wolf-like eyeteeth.”

  Melissa gasped. “He did not call your eyeteeth wolfish.”

  “Not specifically, but what would you think if a dentist offered to file them down?”

  “I’d think I’d never go out with him again.”

  “Bingo.”

  “So, what now?” Melissa asked. “Any more dates on the horizon?”

  “I’ve had a couple of email inquiries, but after this last date, I remember why I stopped doing this in the first place. You’re so lucky you’re married.”

  Melissa glanced over her shoulder to where Ben dozed on the couch. “Yeah, I felt real lucky last night when Ben went out with his friends and didn’t get home until the wee hours this morning.”

  “At least he came home,” Allie whined. “At least you wanted him home.”

  “Allie, I love my husband and I’m very glad I’m married, but that doesn’t mean it’s always sunshine and roses. It also doesn’t mean I didn’t suffer through countless awful dates.”

  “I know. I’m just feeling sorry for myself on this rainy day.”

  Melissa unfolded herself from the pose and turned toward her husband. “Ben’s due for some quality time with Henry, even if he does have a raging hangover. You want me to come over? We could watch a movie, eat something fattening, drink good wine.”

  Allie sighed. “How soon can you be here?”

  “Give me thirty minutes to shower. Pajamas okay?”

  “Pajamas required.”

  “Perfect.” Melissa hung up and crawled over to Ben. She kissed his forehead and ran her finger down his nose. “Wake up, sleeping beauty. You’re on duty as soon as Henry wakes up.”

  Ben stretched and let out an enormous yawn. “Did I hear you make plans with Allie?”

  “Yes, you did.”

  “Did I also hear you tell her I was out half the night and have a hangover?”

  “Right again.”

  He opened his eyes. They were the same chocolate brown she fell in love with, but a little fuzzy around the edges. “Why do you tell your friends I’m a carousing drunk who can’t hold his liquor?”

  “Because it’s the truth and it makes Allie feel better about being without a man.”

  He scowled at her and tried to sit up, but only managed a semi-reclined position. “I feel so used.”

  “If you hadn’t had so much to drink last night, you’d be getting used right now.” She ran her hand up his leg.

  “I’m up now.”

  “Now I have plans.”

  “I don’t get Allie,” Ben said. He swiped his hands over his face and yawned. “She could have a man—any man—with the snap of her fingers. Why is she always alone and yet complaining about being alone?”

  “Come on, Ben. You know Allie. She’s the most insecure woman I’ve ever met. She’s also incredibly picky and shy around men. She’s uncomfortable around most men, so she ends up alone.”

  “That makes no sense whatsoever.”

  “It does when you know Allie as well as I do.” Melissa took pity on her hurting husband and scooted behind him and began to rub his shoulders.

  “Ummm. What did I do to deserve this?” he asked.

  “You made the very wise decision to marry me and ensure that I’m done with dating forever.”

  Ben grabbed her hands and pulled her on top of him. “Why don’t I help you out of these clothes?”

  “Ben…”

  “What?” He lifted her sweatshirt and yanked it over her head. “Didn’t you say you had to shower and change?”

  Melissa struggled with loyalty as Ben drew kisses along her jaw. The devil knew just how to tempt her.

  “We could shower together,” he suggested.

  “What if Henry woke up? We’d never hear him.”

  Ben made quick work of her jeans. “He’s in a crib. Where’s he going to go?” He’d stripped her to her bra and panties in less than sixty seconds. “On second thought,” he said as he pulled off his t-shirt. “We shouldn’t waste time. Let’s do it here.”

  “God, I shouldn’t be this easy,” she moaned.

  “Nope,” he said. “That’s just the way I like you.”

  ***

  “I thought you said practice ends at five,” Craig goaded Leah as she put her lacrosse bag into the back of the truck and leaned inside to give Blackjack a pat on the head.

  “It does. I was talking.”

  “So I saw.” He’d arrived early so he didn’t have to listen to another lecture on how she needed a phone. He couldn’t believe how many conversations they had that led back to her needing a phone. “I didn’t know you had boys on your team.”

  “What?”

  “I saw you talking to a boy carrying a lacrosse stick. I assumed he was on your team.”

  “Funny, Uncle Craig. That was Brody. He’s Cassidy Mizer’s brother. He plays on the eighth grade team.”

  “An older man?”

  “An older brother.” She rolled her eyes. “So how was your day?”

  Craig thought back. He’d had a good day. Davis had gotten Stacy to sign off on his kitchen design and he’d met with his cabinet guy to work up a quote. He’d sheetrocked the newly created great room after the electrician had rerouted the wiring. “All in all, not bad. I got a good bit done.”

  “Me too. I got an A on my math test.”

  “Did you?”

  “Yep. That ought to make Dad happy when he calls tonight.”

  “You’d think,” Craig said. He was sick of Mark calling, harassing him about putting himself out there, going out with women. His brother didn’t know when enough was enough. Didn’t he have better things to think about on his honeymoon?

  “So what’s for dinner?” Leah asked.

  “Some chicken casserole your dad made.”

 
“Are you asking Allie to stay?” Before Craig could answer, she said, “I really want her to stay.”

  He’d thought about it. Wasn’t that why he’d pulled the damn casserole out of the freezer? It was a lot harder to invite a woman to join you and your niece for left over pizza. “I’ll ask, but don’t be surprised if she says no.”

  “She hardly ever said no to dad.”

  “Your dad’s a lot nicer than me.”

  “To her he sure is.” Leah looked out the window and tried to put her feet on the dash when Craig tapped her leg and shook his head no. She sat up straight and slapped her hands on her knees. “Why don’t you like Ms. Allie? She’s so nice.”

  “I never said I didn’t like her.”

  “You didn’t have to say it.”

  Craig blew out a breath. Weren’t twelve-year-old girls supposed to think about boys and their friends and…phones? “I like her fine. She’s…” Too damn pretty. And he’d spent too much time feeling bad about the way he’d treated her last week. “Fine.”

  “Good, because I want her to stay for dinner.”

  Craig turned the radio down and cleared his throat. “Is this about what happened last week? I mean, have you felt okay since…since it happened?”

  “Yes,” she said quickly. “No. I mean yes, I feel okay and, no, that’s not why I want her to stay. I like her. Besides, if I’m going to have a woman living in the house starting next week, I could use some practice of having one around.”

  “Practice? You think of Allie as stepmom material?”

  “I think she’s a woman and if she’d married my dad, she could have been my stepmom.”

  Why did the thought of Mark and Allie sharing cozy dinners suddenly make his hands fist on the wheel? “I don’t know Allie real well, but she doesn’t seem much like your new stepmom.”

  Leah considered his question as she bopped her head to a tune. “Actually, she kind of is. They’re both pretty—in different ways—and they’re both shy.”

  “Shy?” Craig choked out the word. “You think Allie’s shy?”

  “Yeah, sort of.”

  “I wouldn’t call her shy.” A beautiful pain in the ass is what he’d call her.

  “She’s been staying for dinner for a couple years now and I get the feeling she’s lonely.”

  Craig looked over at his niece, but she’d recognized a song on the radio and had turned it up loud. Lonely? He certainly knew what lonely felt like. Staying with Leah, having someone to come home to every night, was a nice treat from his usual, but he knew as soon as Mark and Carolyn got back, he’d have to get used to a whole new kind of lonely. “Then I guess we should ask her to stay.”

  Chapter 11

  Allie shoved her sheet music in her bag and gathered her coat. The last thing she wanted was another run in with Craig. He sauntered out of the kitchen at the same time she caught a whiff of something baking in the oven. It smelled like Mark’s chicken and rice bake casserole. Her stomach growled audibly.

  “Lesson done?” he asked. He wore his usual faded jeans and flannel shirt. She could see the fraying edges of his undershirt at the base of his neck. The day old beard added to his scruffy appearance. Why now, of all times, did she have to find his unkempt look so attractive?

  “Yep.” She patted the dog on his head and dropped her bag so she could put her arms in her coat. “See you Thursday.”

  He reached behind her and grabbed the coat collar. “I was kind of hoping you’d join us for dinner.”

  She looked over her shoulder and up into his eyes. Their color perfectly matched the strand of blue in his shirt. “Are you kidding?”

  “No. Leah wants you to stay.”

  Allie turned around to where Leah sat on the piano bench. She nodded her head up and down as if to verify Craig’s claim. Allie let Craig pull the coat from her arms and hang it in the closet. “Well, that’s very nice of you, Leah.”

  “Leah?” he said. “What about me?”

  “Did you make the casserole?” she asked.

  “No,” he said with that irritation line between his eyes. “But I put it in the oven.”

  “If that constituted cooking, I’d call myself a chef.”

  “You don’t cook?” he asked. He led her into the kitchen where he’d opened a bottle of white wine.

  “No. Recipes are like braille to me. Where others see a guide to a completed masterpiece, I see nothing but little raised dots on paper.”

  “No wonder you like eating over.”

  “It’s better than eating a microwave meal alone.” She accepted a glass of wine and tried to discreetly peek at the label. Huh. Very nice. She had a bottle of this at home. Allie heard Leah practicing in the den. “So, how’s she doing?”

  “Leah?” Craig asked. He opened up a bag of salad and poured it into Mark’s wooden salad bowl. “She’s fine.”

  “I mean about her period. Any issues?”

  “None. If I hadn’t seen the blood myself, I’d think I imagined the whole episode.”

  Allie wished she’d imagined the whole episode. She was still smarting about his ‘girls’ comment. “Good. I figured, when you didn’t call, that she was doing okay.”

  “Right as wine. Speaking of wine, how is it?”

  “Good. Pinot grigio’s my favorite.”

  Craig chuckled. “My wife used to call it cheap.”

  Allie almost choked. She didn’t know what was more surprising, that Craig had a wife or that she’d called her favorite wine cheap. “Your wife?”

  “She was a wine snob.”

  “Oh.” Allie inched around the island and watched Craig pull plates from the cabinet. She shouldn’t ask. She really didn’t care, except the question was out of her mouth before she could stop it. “I take it you’re divorced?”

  Leah ran into the kitchen. “Allie, did you hear?”

  “Hear what?”

  “I got it, that last part of the song.” Leah’s face fell. “You weren’t listening?”

  “I’m sorry, Leah. I was talking to your uncle.” She grabbed the girl’s hand and led her into the den. “Will you do it again? I’ll watch this time, too.”

  When she looked up from the piano, Craig stood in the foyer, leaning against the casement in what had become, in Allie’s mind, his spot. No wonder he was so bitter and brittle, she mused. Weren’t all divorced men clinging to the only emotion they had left for their ex-wives?

  “Dinner’s ready,” he said. When Leah tried to run past, he stood in her path and mussed her hair. “Wash your hands, squirt.”

  “Yes, sir.” She gave a mock salute and had her hands washed and dried before Allie could do the same at the kitchen sink.

  Allie took a seat at the table and felt uncomfortable as the outsider of the trio. Despite his overbearing manner, Leah seemed as relaxed with her uncle as she did with her father. She and Craig must spend quite a bit of time together.

  Allie unfolded the paper napkin on her lap. “How’s your lacrosse team doing, Leah?”

  The girl hurriedly swallowed a bite of chicken and washed it down with a gulp of milk. “We’re two and three, but the games we lost were only by one point.”

  “Leah’s probably the fastest one on the team,” Craig said. “You should see her motor.”

  “Girls didn’t play lacrosse when I was younger. I don’t have a clue what the rules are.”

  “It’s kinda like soccer with sticks,” Craig explained.

  “You should watch the boys play, Ms. Allie. They beat the crap out of each another.”

  “Hummm,” Allie said. “Entertaining.”

  “They have to wear all these pads.” She wrinkled her nose. “I’d hate to play like the boys.”

  “When I was your age, I lived across the street from three brothers,” Allie said. “They used to beat each other up on a daily basis, so I doubt doing it in pads is that big a deal to boys.”

  “Where did you grow up?” Craig asked.

  Allie wondered what kind of answer to g
ive. Should she explain about the in-town house she lived in when her parents were married, the two apartments she was shuffled between during and right after the divorce, or the in-town condo and suburban house her father and stepmother still lived in, neither of which felt like home? “Here. Atlanta, I mean.”

  “Really?” Craig asked. “You don’t meet many natives, especially out in the suburbs.”

  “I went away for college, but ended back here, even though I swore I wasn’t ever coming back.”

  “What brought you back?” he asked.

  “My college roommate. She wanted to live here and I didn’t want to start over in a new town without her.”

  “Where did you go to college?” Leah asked.

  “I went to a small music school in Nashville. Melissa, my roommate, she went to Vanderbilt.”

  Craig waved his fork in her direction. “So you’ve always done the music thing?”

  “Yes,” she chuckled and took a sip of wine. “I’ve always done the music thing.”

  “I want to go to Alabama,” Leah announced as she finished her last bite of chicken and stared at the broccoli on her plate as if it was radioactive. “Roll Tide!”

  “Well, I see your father has gotten his crimson blood in your veins.”

  “Is there any other?” she asked. “Can I be excused, please, Uncle Craig?”

  “You going to do your homework?” he asked.

  “I did my math, but I’ve got to study for social studies.”

  “Finish your broccoli and you can study.”

  She slumped her shoulders and looked up at him from under her lashes. “I hate broccoli.”

  “I had to eat it when I was a kid, so now you do, too,” Craig explained with glee in his eyes.

  “If I eat this, can I have some ice cream for dessert?”

  “Who said anything about dessert?” he asked.

  “Well,” Leah said, “it’s in the freezer and we’ve got chocolate sauce in the pantry.”

  Craig blew out a breath. “I suppose, but after your homework.”

  She stuffed the three stalks in her mouth at one time and chewed while holding her nose. “Dad told me you can’t taste it when you hold your nose,” she explained after swallowing the broccoli and chasing it with milk. “I can still taste it. Yuck.” She stood up and gathered her plate and utensils.