“If Renny lets me.” Which was doubtful at the moment.
“Which brings me to the grovel-to-Renny-in-apology aspect. Add in to that make amends to Mother.”
“And irritate my little brother.” Caleb couldn’t help but toss that one in and then laughed at the mock punch thrown by Constantine.
With Con’s help in coming up with a clear mission, it occurred to Caleb that he needed allies, and that was why he found himself on Melanie’s porch—in cookie-cutter suburbia where his borrowed pickup truck covered in mud looked like it belonged to a gardener not a visitor.
But at least he looked somewhat respectable. He’d managed a comatose night of sleep with the help of pills and had enjoyed a hearty breakfast cooked by his mother before she went off to work.
When Constantine had a buddy from work grab him on his way, leaving Caleb with some wheels, he had no excuse. Time to work on completing the first part of his mission.
Taking a deep breath, telling the nervous butterflies in his tummy to fuck off, Caleb knocked on the front door.
A short and dark-haired woman flung open the portal with gusto and a hollered, “Don’t you dare get dirty. We are leaving for the picnic in a minute.” Orders given, Melanie turned to face Caleb and uttered an eloquent, “Oh.”
“Hey, brat face.” The old nickname came easily.
Still unable to find words, Melanie showed him her happiness at seeing him again by throwing her arms around him in a big hug.
“Good grief, are you sure you’re not part anaconda?” he joked as she bound him tight.
“No one’s too sure what great-great grandpa was, so you never know. But you didn’t come here to hash out my ancestral lines, and since I know you already caught up with Daryl,”—Melanie drew herself out of his arms and peered up at him—“that means there’s only one reason why you’re here. Renny.” Melanie hauled off and slugged him in the gut.
It didn’t hurt, but it still made him exclaim, “What the hell? What happened to I’m glad to see you?”
“I am, but you also broke my best friend’s heart. Do you know how hard she’s had to struggle because you’re an asshat?”
A cringe pulled his features taut. “I swear I didn’t know about the baby. I just found out last night.”
“Like fu—udge,” Melanie said, stuttering her reply as a commotion at her feet drew her attention.
A pair of tousle-haired, dark-eyed boys stared up at him.
They didn’t blink. Or move.
A waft of chocolate rose from one of them. With a sly grin, the slightly smaller of the two licked a sticky finger, not that it helped the brown smear on his hand. The little tyke regarded the cocoa smear, and Melanie growled, “I thought I hid the chocolate syrup.”
“Found it,” announced the tyke with no small amount of pride.
“More like it found you,” she muttered. “Don’t you dare wipe it on your pants.”
The little guy listened to his mother and found something else to latch his sticky hand onto.
Caleb didn’t have time to move back because the child moved so fast. One minute, the kid looked like he would defy his mother, and the next, he flung his arms around Caleb’s legs, peeked up, and grinned. “Hi.”
“Holy sh—oot,” he said, curbing his language at the last second. “How do you resist the cuteness?”
“You don’t, which is why they’re spoiled monsters. Tatum, let go of Caleb’s leg.” Tatum required Melanie leaning forward to pry him loose, but the damage was done. Caleb’s jeans were smeared in chocolate. Melanie eyed the sticky spots. “Sorry about that. Terrible twos are nothing compared to the Terrifying threes.”
“So these are your boys?” Caleb didn’t wait for an answer to his obvious question. He crouched down and studied the faces.
Identical twins in all ways from the messy mop of hair to the solemn stares to the mischief pulling at their lips. If it weren’t for the fact that Tatum was slightly smaller than his brother, Caleb didn’t know how you’d tell them apart.
The one without chocolate-smeared hands held out his arms and commanded, “Up.”
Caleb stood.
The child waved his arms again, and Melanie laughed. “He didn’t mean stand up. He meant pick him up. Looks like you’ve made a friend. That demanding fellow is Rory.”
Making friends—even if cute and scary to hold, as the child clung to his upper body like a monkey—wasn’t what Caleb came for.
“I need help,” he blurted out.
“You’re doing fine.” Melanie said in a soothing tone. “Don’t worry. They’re practically impossible to drop now. They’ve got a grip like their mother. It’s when they’re babies you gotta watch out. One minute they’re diaperless on the change table, peeing in the air while you’re diving looking for a towel, and the next they’re rolling in opposite directions and hitting the floor. Good thing they’re tough, just like their daddy.”