His mom sucked up half the air in the room, so he added. “Not mine.” But it could be.
Jaws dropped around the table, a couple still filled with food, and the room went quiet so fast the walls probably thought they’d gone deaf.
Lizzy recovered first—no surprise. “Wow. That makes up for…a lot.”
Matt went back to eating, like he’d reported the weather. He’d be assaulted with his family’s version of the Spanish Inquisition in…five, four, three—
An explosion of voices and questions erupted. He instantly regretted opening himself up to this.
“I don’t even know what to say.” His mother looked baffled. “Where is her husband? Why is she pregnant?”
Did she not listen to anything I just said?
“All right.” His father sat back, his deep, booming voice overriding all others. “Why don’t you tell us about her, son?”
Anthony McKinney was a man who commanded respect just by being who he was. He was still Matt’s hero and the type of father he wanted to emulate. The rest of the family sat in silence as Matt spoke primarily to his dad.
It wasn’t his usual MO to share details about anything, especially women, but he wouldn’t deny what she was to him, what the kids were. And with that thought, the words just spilled out.
“Her name is Abby. She’s sweet and smart and funny.” With eyes that dance and sparkle when she laughs. “Jack is five and can’t catch a football to save his life, but we’re working on it. Gracie’s three. She’s got curls and dimples and can talk me into just about anything.” Even dressing up like a princess.
The more he talked, the harder it was to control the smile spreading across his face. “Charlie is two and a half and sticks to me like a tick. Annie’s almost seven and most of the time I’m not sure she likes me.”
Matt glanced at his mother, took in her less than happy expression.
“You move fast,” J.T. said, with irritating smirk. “Evidently so does she.”
That last bit was muttered into his glass, but Matt didn’t miss it. “What the hell did you say?” He wanted to jerk the little punk up by his shirt, but J.T. already looked remorseful.
His brother stared into his iced tea. “Nothing.”
Matt was close to all his siblings, and he loved his youngest brother, but the kid walked around with a growing chip on his shoulder Matt couldn’t figure out.
Matt pushed back in his chair. “I need some air.”
—
He stared out at his parents’ backyard, looking hard at the trees on the edge of the property and the small wooden structure. Lots of good times in that fort. Probably what had started his love of building.
The screen door creaked open behind him and he glanced back to see Beth, tall and willowy, with the same dark bob she’d had in high school.
Tony followed and stood next to him at the deck rail. “What are you thinking?”
“That I’d love to show Jack that tree fort. And if you came out here to harass me, you can save it.”
“You dropped quite a bomb. Mom’s in there rubbing the rocks out of the granite.”
“I thought she’d be happier.”
“She misses you. Her feelings are probably just hurt. First you go to the beach, then a weekend in Raleigh. You know Mom. She likes all her ducks close. Doesn’t want some strange woman taking advantage of her baby boy. Someone you’ve fallen for that she’s never met.”
“Ha.” He understood that his mom missed him and had a hard time with his job, but the thought of Abby taking advantage was laughable. She’d run for cover if he let her. Maybe she already was.
Matt didn’t want to fight with his mom, or his youngest brother. “What’s up with J.T.?” Just eleven months apart—Irish twins—he and Tony somewhat shared the role of oldest, but he’d left the brunt of it to Tony for years.
“Don’t know. He’s been worse than usual lately. My guess is lady troubles.”
“Hmm. Maybe so.” The crickets were starting their nightly noise.
“I told the guys at the hangar to start a tab,” he said, referring to his flight on Tony’s plane to Abby’s last weekend.
“That’s fine.”
Beth rocked on the porch swing behind them and Tony joined her. “How far along is she?”
“About seven months, little less I think.”
“Well, FYI, medically speaking, there are certain sexual positions—”
Oh, hell no. Matt held up a hand. “Beth, you know I love you, but there are some things we are not going to talk about. Tony. Please.” He sent his brother a pleading look, but the bastard just grinned.