A Million Little Things (Mischief Bay, #3)

“What?” she asked.

Steven set his toolbox on the floor of her entryway and leaned against the wall. “My mother. I can’t do it. I can’t give her any more dating advice. No matter how carefully I try to explain things, she won’t listen. And in the end, I’m the one who’s cringing. I don’t know how she does it, but she always wins.”

Zoe held in a grin as she moved in front of him. “Did she torture you?”

“I can’t talk about it. I swear if I repeat what she said, I’ll never get it up again.”

“That would be extremely sad.” She put her hand on his arm. “If it makes you feel better, I talked to my dad and that didn’t go well either.”

“I doubt he used the word vagina.”

“Um, no. He told me to mind my own business.”

“Good advice.” He looked at her. “You okay with us staying out of it?”

She made an X on her chest. “I swear that I am.”

He leaned in and kissed her. “Good. Because I’m not ready to stop making love with you.”

Words designed to warm a girl’s heart—and other places.

He picked up his toolbox. “I’m ready to tackle those stairs for you.”

“This way.”

They walked to her small hallway. Steven carefully lowered and raised the stairs a few times before putting sandpaper on a block. He asked her for an old sheet to protect the floor, then went to work, sanding the side of the old wooden stairs.

“I should probably ask what you’re doing so I can fix the stairs myself next time,” she said as she watched.

“Please don’t. Then I won’t feel important and necessary. If you can do everything yourself, what do you need me for?”

She laughed. “Assuming your mom didn’t damage you permanently, I have several ideas.”

“I want to hear all of them.” He flashed her a grin, then returned his attention to his work.

She liked how he focused on what he did. How he was good with his hands. Her dad had always told her to find a man who was more than just interesting or fun to hang out with. That she would probably get stuck with the cooking and cleaning, and any man in her life needed to contribute, too. While Chad had been more than capable, he’d never actually helped much around the house.

“What are you thinking?” Steven asked unexpectedly.

“That my ex was more flash than substance.”

“Should I be worried that you’re thinking about him?”

“No. I’ve been thinking that he was never especially good for me. He worked as a master mechanic, but he never helped around the house. Like what you’re doing with the stairs.” She raised a shoulder. “I was thinking that I was really lucky to have met you.”

“Good. Keep thinking that.” He winked.

“I should probably reward you with dinner.”

“You probably should.” His smile faded. “Have you talked to Jen today?”

“No. I had a missed call from her but I didn’t want to call back while she was feeding Jack. Is everything okay?”

“Lucas was shot.”

“What? Oh, my God! When? What happened? Is Kirk okay?”

Steven filled her in on the basics of the shooting.

“She must be totally freaked,” Zoe murmured.

“She seemed all right when I saw her a bit ago, but she has to be scared. She wants to go back to the hospital tonight. I told her I’d come over and stay with Jack after he went to bed.”

“Want company?” Zoe asked. “I’d be happy to hang out with you. Plus I’d like to see Jen, even for a couple of minutes.”

“That would be great. With you along, I don’t have to worry if Jack wakes up.”

Zoe wasn’t sure she could handle the toddler any better than he could, but at least they would have each other. She thought about her friend and how terrified Jen must be right now—dealing with the fact that her husband had almost been shot. Saved only by his partner’s actions.

The world could be a scary place. Maybe Jen was right to fuss about things all the time. Maybe taking that much control was a reasonable way to feel safe.





Chapter Thirteen

“Are you ready?” Pam asked as she parked in front of the large Spanish-style house a mere two miles from her own condo. She looked down at the dog in her lap. “We’re going to meet a new friend. She’s a papillon named Mariposa. She’s very pretty but not as pretty as you. Just so we’re clear.”

Lulu looked up, her ears forward, as if listening attentively.

“Are you nervous? I’m nervous.” She glanced at the house. Lush plants grew all around the front. The windows looked original and there was a beautiful tile roof. The neighborhood was upscale and older, with families who had lived in the area for generations.

She drew in a breath and smiled at Lulu. “You’re right. This is just a stall tactic and not a very good one. Let’s go.”

She picked up her little dog and got out of her car, then walked around to the passenger side to collect her bag. She set Lulu down on the front path and told her to go potty. Better to do that now than risk an accident in all the excitement.

Her business done, Lulu sniffed a few plants before returning to Pam and presenting herself, butt first, in the classic pick me up position. Pam drew her close. On the bright side, having her dog with her allowed her to focus on something other than her nerves.

“It’s just lunch,” she told herself. She would be fine. Miguel was a friend, nothing more.

She reached the wide, tiled front porch. The front door opened before she could knock. Miguel smiled at her.

“You came.”

He was as good-looking as she remembered. Just as appealing was the way he was holding Mariposa. The two dogs caught sight of each other and strained to start sniffing.

“Shall we?” he asked.

“I’m sure it will be fine.”

They both lowered their dogs to the foyer floor. Lulu stood her ground while Mariposa trotted toward her. They stared for a second, then did a quick butt-sniff exchange. Mariposa dropped to the puppy-play position—front end down, butt in the air, tail wagging. Lulu glanced at Pam, as if asking if it was okay.