Once she’d assured herself her son wasn’t sleeping in squalor, his mom continued down the hall and he followed along. “She liked you, too.”
“How long before you show up on her doorstop dripping with mud and smelling like bear poop and skunk spray?”
“It was one time, Mom.”
“It was one time you ran off a very nice girl because of what Ciara did to you.” She turned and gave him a stern look. “You’re not going to find a woman who won’t complain about having that in her washing machine.”
“Well, I don’t have to bother showing up on Hailey’s doorstep like that. I already know she wouldn’t open the door.”
Her brows furrowed. “So you two aren’t an item?”
“An item?” Boy, he hated to lie to his mother, but if she got it in her head he and Hailey might have a real relationship, she’d never leave it alone. “She’s my neighbor. She hates being outside.”
Neither of those statements was a lie, which made him feel better. They didn’t answer the question, of course, but his mother was free to infer what she pleased from them.
“That’s too bad. She’s pretty and you’d have pretty babies.”
When she turned her back on him to go back downstairs, he rolled his eyes. Three grandchildren already and she was still hung up on him giving her more. And that always seemed to be the quality she prized most in his potential girlfriends. They’d make pretty babies.
He just wanted a woman who’d enjoy spending time with him doing what he loved to do. It should have been easy, especially in Maine, but he was thirty-five years old and hadn’t met her yet.
FIFTEEN
HAILEY CLOSED HER book and tossed it onto Matt’s coffee table. She’d finished it, then read the excerpts for other books at the end, and the baseball game on the television was showing no sign of ending.
Chalk up another thing they didn’t have in common, she thought. She’d never gotten into sports, and baseball seemed to be something Matt was passionate about if the cheering, cursing and other sound effects were anything to go by.
“How much longer is this on?”
“What?” He tore his attention away from the TV for a second. “Three more innings.”
“Can you translate that into minutes for me?”
“A lot. Did you finish your book?”
“Yeah.” She could run next door for another, but she was restless.
He hit mute on the remote and shifted his body toward her. “You sound bored.”
“Just a little.” When he lifted his arm, she snuggled against his side. She’d been thinking about something since the weekend, so she decided to ask him. “What would your family have done if you hadn’t come home when you did on Saturday?”
“What do you mean?”
“You weren’t supposed to work, but you got called in. What if the call had taken a lot longer? Would they have turned around and gone home?”
She felt his shrug, since his arm was around her. “I’d given them a rough estimate, so they knew I was coming. And it happens.”
“But still. It’s four hours of driving, round trip, and there was the risk they wouldn’t even see you.”
He was quiet for a moment and, since she was paying attention, she noted he started talking right after one of the guys on TV caught the ball. “They’re used to it.”
“You may as well turn the sound back on. You’re still watching it, but now you just can’t hear it.”
“I’m fine. And my family knows I might get called out at any time. It’s a huge state with a lot of rural roads that take time to drive. If there’s an emergency, you call in the guy who’s closest.”
“I don’t think I could get used to that. Forget special occasions or barbecues. How would you even plan supper? You rarely come home at the same time every day.”
Maybe it was her imagination, but his body seemed to tense up a bit. “I use the slow cooker a lot. Quick meals on the grill.”
“I guess. My mother put dinner on the table at five-thirty every single night when I was growing up.”
“And that’s what you want?”
She thought about it. “Not five-thirty exactly, but there’s something to be said for routine. Both home at five, make dinner together, then sit and eat while talking about the workday.”
“A lot of women feel the same way, I guess. At least the ones I’ve dated in the past.”
Something about his tone made her sit up straight so she could see his face. “I wasn’t trying to be a drag. I was just curious about how your family would have handled it if you hadn’t shown up.”
“They would have been disappointed, but they understand my work’s important. It’s not like I’m calculating taxes and can punch out at four-thirty on the dot. Maybe they would have camped out on my floor. I don’t know. But the hours are hell on relationships and eventually women get sick of waiting or being stood up.”
“I’m pretty sure there are a lot of happily married game wardens.”