A long moment passed, and then they were talking over each other as they fired off counterarguments. "Dad," Sam said, "Cora lives at the clubhouse. That's not really her own place. Do you even know how she came to be there?"
Slider blinked, because what the hell did his ten-year-old know about Cora's past? And why did he seem to know more about it than Slider?
"Yeah, but Cora was here a lot more than usual this week," Ben was saying in a tumble of words, "and I know she didn't mind because she told me she was happy to do it because she didn't have anywhere else she had to be."
Sam nodded and crossed his arms. "Besides, you're not related to anyone in the Raven Riders, yet you always call them brothers. So I think people you're not related to can be family if you want them to be."
Ben tried to mirror the tough-guy pose, but the cast on his elbow wouldn't quite allow him to pull it off. "I agree with Sam."
Jesus. He was totally outnumbered here, wasn't he? "You two practicing for your future careers as prosecutors, or what?"
"Dad," Sam said, his eyebrow arching.
"Sam-"
"Come on, you could use the help, and Cora could use a real house to live in. She could be, like . . . our nanny. It'd be win-win," the kid said. Ten going on thirty-five, apparently. Which made them the exact same age.
Sonofabitch. Cora, their nanny. It was crazy . . . but maybe not as crazy as Slider at first thought. And it wasn't as if he couldn't afford it. Kim's life insurance had given them a decent safety net that Slider only dipped into when he had to. He scrubbed at his face, all his unkempt whiskers suddenly irritating him in a way they hadn't before.
"At least think about it, Dad," Ben said, his tone a little defeated.
And even though he knew it was bad for his resolve, Slider looked his son in the face and found those way-too-persuasive puppy-dog eyes in full effect. "Fine," he said, really wanting to stop talking about the idea of Cora living with him. With them, he meant. "Now what do you want for dinner? I could make up some mac and cheese, or we have stuff for cold cuts."
"I want to go to the clubhouse for dinner," Ben said.
"Yeah!" Sam said. "Haven is such a good cook. Can we?"
"Maybe she'll make her peanut butter cookies. Can we, Dad?" the little one asked with those pleading eyes.
And of course Cora was over there, which they damn well knew. But, honestly, how often did they ask anything of him anymore? And given all they didn't have-a mother and a father who wasn't a wreck at the top of that list-they were hard to resist on those rare occasions when they did. "You two are killing me, you know that?"
Sam smirked. "I'll help you get your shoes on, Ben," he said, pushing his brother out of the room.
"Damnit," Slider bit out under his breath. Why did he feel like he'd just been played? And why did his gut tell him it wasn't over yet?
Chapter 6
With over half of the Ravens' almost forty active members present, dinner was a loud, raucous affair. Cora was positive she laughed at least as much as she managed to eat, and it was exactly what she needed to distract herself from the odd pit of sadness deep in her gut at the feeling that she was losing her best friend.
You're being so ridiculous, she thought for the millionth time. And she was. She knew she was. But it wasn't like she could talk herself out of how she felt.
And so, instead, she laughed. And joked. And teased Phoenix relentlessly. And got up half a dozen times to refill the platters of burgers, dogs, and corn on the cob.
It was on one of the trips from the kitchen that she returned to the most unexpected sight-Slider, in the big mess hall of what had once been an old mountain inn, standing in the doorway with the boys. From what Cora could tell, many of the Ravens were single guys without much in the way of family. A lot of them found their way here for meals throughout the week, particularly on weekend nights and mornings. That was when the two long rows of tables tended to be fullest. But never once in all her time around the clubhouse had Cora seen Slider Evans come to eat. His boys, sure. Early on, she'd watched them here on many occasions until Slider got off work and could pick them up.
But never Slider.
And Cora wasn't the only one who was surprised.
Because the room noticed him in a wave of sudden, surprised hush that was quickly followed by a chorus of welcome. Chairs moved to make space. The boys' hair got ruffled a million times. And Ben was grinning ear to ear from all the attention his cast was getting.
She came up behind where Sam and Ben had settled and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Leaning in, she teased, "You two just can't get enough of me. Admit it. I'm the coolest ever."
"Hey, Cora," Sam said, smiling up at her.
"I missed you," Ben said, crawling onto his knees on his chair as he turned and wrapped his arms around her. It was awkward and clumsy with the cast, but it was so sweet that Cora's insides temporarily turned to goo. Across the table, she met Haven's gaze, and her friend's expression made it clear that the kid was turning her gooey, too.
But it was someone else's expression that most captured Cora's attention. When Ben slid back into his seat, she turned to find Slider staring at her, his gaze so blatant, unabashed, and tortured that for a second she could only stare back.
He frowned and looked away as someone passed him a platter of food. What the heck had that look been about, anyway?
Ever since they'd shared that hot but confusing moment in the little hospital bed-that moment when Slider had touched her face, her hair, her lips-he'd gone distant on her again. Not rude or mean or grumpy, but for a moment that night, she could've sworn that some sort of wall had come down between them. And it was back now. Higher than ever.
Or maybe it'd never really been down at all.
She peeked his way, happy at least to see him interacting with someone. He was nodding and talking to Doc, Bear, and Bunny, who used to watch the boys for him sometimes and asked Cora how they were doing all the time.
On a sigh, Cora slipped back into her chair between Phoenix and Haven. What did it matter how Slider looked at her or whether they'd made some kind of connection? It wasn't like they were friends. He was her boss. Her boss in a part-time babysitting job. Hardly the stuff of which forever was made.
Not that she thought forever was on the table here.
Dare was chuckling at something Haven was saying and double-fisting his own private, secret stash of her peanut butter cookies-with which her bestie might've paved her way to his heart. Well. Forever wasn't on the table for both of them, anyway. For Haven? Definitely.
And it was really freaking refreshing for good things to happen to such a good person.
Be a good girl and stop fighting.
The memory of the words nearly had Cora flying out of her chair, the adrenaline kick of the fight-or-flight response was suddenly so strong in her blood. She gripped the edge of her seat, trying to steady herself, trying to ground herself in the here and now.
Blinking away the sudden wetness in her eyes, she peered left and right under the curtain of her hair to see if anyone noticed her, because she was shaky and clammy and so damn exposed it felt like the whole world would know.
But no one was paying her any attention, and all she saw was Dare and Haven shamelessly flirting with each other next to her. "Next Friday night, then," Dare said, looking at Haven with so much affection and masculine satisfaction. "We're moving your stuff over to the house as soon as I wrap up here. Got it?"
Haven grinned. "Yeah. I can't wait."
"Hold up," Maverick said from across the table. "Haven's moving into the cabin?" Dare gave a nod, an arched eyebrow challenging anybody to say one teasing word about it. He had a protective streak a mile wide-which explained, in part, why the Ravens had a protective mission in the first place-but it was a hundred times stronger when it came to Haven. "That's fantastic news. Congrats."
Word spread around the room, and in the excited mayhem that followed, Cora finally felt like she could breathe again. Why did this keep happening to her, these out-of-the-blue memories that threatened to suck her back into that terrible moment? It had happened five months ago, and her father was now moldering in a grave. She should just get over it already.
She glanced up to find Slider staring at her again with that strange troubled expression from before still on his face. Except, as he looked at her, that expression changed to one of concern that seemed to ask if she was okay. Thankfully, a big mountain of a guy named Meat hit Slider on the arm and said something that made them both chuckle, and Cora turned away. She wasn't sure what was up with him tonight, but she couldn't take his weirdness when she was feeling so raw.