“Are you talking about Caleb?” Renny’s voice pitched.
“Are you pining after another guy I don’t know about? Hell yeah, I’m talking about Caleb. Admit it, he’s the one.”
“The one”—and, yes, Renny finger quoted it as she said it—“left me without so much as a goodbye or a reason. And now he waltzes back into town and thinks he can say he is sorry and suddenly become a part of my life again.”
“Hate to break it to you, girlfriend, but he already is a part of your life. He always will be because he’s Luke’s daddy.”
Hard to argue that fact, so Renny went for diversion instead. “Speaking of daddies, there’s Andrew with Rory under his arm, and he doesn’t look very happy.”
“When is he ever happy?” Melanie muttered.
Trouble in suburban paradise. As the best friend, Renny was privy to many secrets, one of them being the fact that things hadn’t been right between Melanie and Andrew for a while. But Renny knew Melanie was doing her damnedest to change that. Was that where the plan for another kid came from?
“Want me to go save the boys?” Renny asked. She seriously meant save, too, because while Andrew might have donated sperm, his fathering skills left much to be desired.
“Too late. They got into the donuts.” Tatum, lips powdered in white, his small hands, too, clutched at his father’s dark slacks. White fingerprints marred the fabric. Melanie sighed. “Dammit. I better get Andrew’s spare set of clothes before he has a fit.”
“You travel with spares?” Renny asked.
“Spares?” Melanie snorted. “Try triplicates. I have twin demons of mischief. We’re lucky if we only need two outfits a day. And Andrew is so finicky when it comes to being clean. I’ll be back in a few.”
Melanie teetered off in the direction of the parking lot, stopping halfway to slip off her heels.
Renny held back a smile. Her friend might have married upper middle class, but at heart, she was still a bayou girl, and preferred to go about barefoot.
Alone for the moment, Renny let her gaze rove until she located her son, only to discover Luke was being watched by Caleb, watched with a rapier gaze, and she noted how he clenched his fists instead of lunging when Luke tripped chasing Rory around a tree.
Caleb might hesitate to intervene, but she wouldn’t. She went to his side, concern creasing her expression. “Are you all right, bug?”
Before Luke could burst into tears and make a drama about the green stain on his knee, a deep, gravelly voice interjected.
“Of course the boy is fine. He’s tough. Anyone can tell just by looking at him. Must get it from his mother.”
Renny might have chided Wes for his words, except one moment her son went from looking like he’d start wailing to puffing his chest out and boasting, “Didn’t hurt at all.”
And off went her boy, chasing the twins again.
A moue twisted her lips. “I can’t believe that worked.”
“He’s a boy.” Chauvinism, alive and well, and thriving in Wes Mercer.
Standing, Renny stroked her hand down her skirt to make sure it hung where it should before she took in Wes’s appearance, a hard guy to miss. Nothing about the guy was small, from his bulging arms to his wide shoulders to the smirk on his lips.
“Something funny?” she asked.
“Other than the way you’re mollycoddling your boy?” The dark arch of his brow spoke of his disdain.
“I am not smothering him. Much.” Although hadn’t Melanie accused her of over parenting? Actually, her exact words had been very similar to Wes’s. “He’s a boy. He’s supposed to jump off things.”
At least Wes didn’t say the other thing Melanie had as well, “He needs a father.” And Renny was looking for one. Kind of.
She noted Wes staring intently over her shoulder. “What are you looking at?”
A smile stretched his lips, not exactly a nice one. “Your ex-boyfriend is staring daggers at me right now.”
“What did you do?”
“Me?” Wes failed at looking innocent. He’d been born bad. Bad genes. Bad upbringing. Bad boy. But sinfully handsome with his dark hair and tanned skin.
“Yes, you. I know how you like to taunt Caleb. You always have.”
Wes’s smile widened. “Can I help it if that croc snaps so easily?”
“Maybe if you didn’t do it on purpose, he wouldn’t freak.”
“But here’s the beauty. I actually wasn’t trying to annoy him when I stopped to talk to you. However, I am so glad I did because he is practically bursting out of his skin. If he were a cat or a dog, he’d have already pissed on you to mark his territory.”
Renny couldn’t help a wrinkle of her nose. “That’s just being gross. And you’re wrong. I mean nothing to Caleb, so why would he care if another guy is talking to me?”
“Not just any guy. Me.” Wes stepped closer, looming in her space, and for a moment, she wondered what was wrong with her.