“Hey yourself. Whatcha been up to?”
“I was at Grammy and Pop-pop’s farm.”
I walked toward them. “I figured you were gone, it was far too quiet around here. No one running in the hallway playing ninja-samurai.”
“Know what? I met some kids in the other building.”
“Yeah? That’s cool you’ll have kids to play with this summer.”
“If Mommy lets me.”
Calder leaned his head against the man’s side, as if he had a sudden bout of shyness.
The man stared at me hard and kept a protective hand on Calder’s shoulder.
I offered my hand. “Jensen Lund. I’m betting you’re Rowan’s father.”
He harrumphed but he shook my hand—more like he crushed it. “Michael Michaels.”
“It’s good to meet you, sir. I’ve lived here for over a year so I’m friends with Martin too.”
He continued to size me up. “I know who you are, son. I’ve been a Vikings fan since I was Calder’s age.”
“It’s good to hear that kind of team loyalty. It’s a rarity.”
“Loyalty and integrity are the two most important attributes a man can possess.”
Calder tugged on his shirt and peered up at him. “What’s in-teg-rity, Pop-pop?”
Integrity was not kissing the hell out of your sexy-as-sin mother last night.
Or maybe that was willpower.
I must’ve made a derisive noise because the next thing I knew, Michael Michaels aimed his piercing gaze at me. “Maybe The Rocket can explain integrity.”
No pressure.
I crouched down in front of Calder. “Let’s say you’re goofing around outside throwing rocks and you accidentally throw one too hard. It breaks a window and the person who lives in the apartment isn’t home. No one saw you do it, so no one would ever know that you broke the window so you’d be tempted to keep it a secret.”
He blinked those big brown eyes at me.
“But if you tell your mom you did it—”
“She’ll make me apologize and accept the consequences,” he blurted out.
“Exactly. Integrity means telling the truth even if you’re afraid of the consequences. It means doing the right thing, even if it’s the hardest thing.”
Calder glanced at his grandpa as if he didn’t believe me.
Michael Michaels made an affirmative grunt. “Happy to see you have a brain and aren’t just jock-stock.”
“Ask me about incidents leading up to the Civil War and I can impress you with specific dates. Only time my history degree comes in handy.”
“I’m a history buff too.”
“Yeah? Any particular time period?”
“Lately? The Roman Empire.”
Then we were just two history geeks going on about books and maps and all the details I hadn’t paid attention to until college. A history degree—not a teaching history degree—was pretty worthless. But once I’d discovered history wasn’t only found in dry, dusty tomes in a library, I couldn’t be dissuaded from making it my major.
Calder became bored during the conversation and raced up and down the hallway. Or he danced and twirled. Or he attempted cartwheels and handstands. He wasn’t loud, just energetic. I remembered having unlimited energy as a boy. Why walk someplace when you could run? Or skip?
Calder only shouted, “Pop-pop! Watch this!” one time when he performed a full-out run that ended in him leaping into the air and landing soft as a cat in front of us.
“You nailed that landing. Good job.”
The door to Rowan’s apartment opened and a tall woman stepped out. She stopped and looked at me curiously. A smattering of freckles spread across her high cheekbones and regal nose, laugh lines creased the corners of her mouth and her eyes—the exact same color as Rowan’s and Martin’s. But her most arresting feature besides her smile? The shoulder-length dreads that looked like thick black ropes wrapped with silver.
Without thinking, I said to Michael, “Holy hell, man, now I see who Rowan inherited her stunning looks from.”
Luckily, he didn’t take offense. He chuckled. “Her mama’s still something, ain’t she?”
“Yes, sir, she is.”
Then she sauntered forward and offered a slender, callused hand. “I heard that flattery, Jensen Lund. You are every bit as handsome as I’ve been warned about. I’m Rochelle Michaels.”
I grinned at her. Then at Rowan, scowling at me behind her mother’s back. “Very pleased to meet you. Sorry for staring, but I imagine a woman who looks like you is used to it.”
“Oh my. And you’re just as charming to boot.”
Calder jumped in front of me. “Guess where we’re going?”
“To play glow-in-the-dark mini golf?”
He giggled. “No. Guess again!”
“To an all-you-can-eat ice cream shop?”
Another giggle. I shot a quick look to Rowan. The soft, sweet, loving smile when she looked at her son gave me a funny feeling, which made no sense.
“Nope!” Calder said, grabbing my attention again. “We’re going to Chuck E. Cheese!”
“Fun. Sometimes your uncle Martin and I went to Dave and Buster’s.”
“Where they don’t limit you to two beers all night,” Michael said under his breath.
Rochelle elbowed him. “If you don’t have plans, Jensen, you’re welcome to come along.”
“Thanks for the invite, but I spent all afternoon with my family. This morning I hit it hard at the training center, so I’ll be parked on my couch the rest of the night recuperating.”
“The team is already training?” Michael said. “Thought that wasn’t until the end of July.”
I recognized he was a true football fan. “Special circumstances for me, as you can guess, given my injury. Had to run the forty today. Three times.”
“How’d you do? If you don’t mind me askin’?”
“You’ll probably see it in the paper tomorrow, but my average was four point seven seven.”
“Damn, son. That’s great.”
“It felt good.”
“Pop-pop, come on. I’m starved,” Calder complained. “You said we were going like two hours ago.”
He ruffled his grandson’s hair. “We’re goin’. Nice meeting you, Lund.”
“You too.” I looked at Rowan, to see her looking at me. Same odd tickle—but this time it wasn’t only in my belly.
“Dad, you and Mom go ahead,” Rowan said. “You have to take Calder’s car seat out anyway. I’ll be right there.”
I rested against my apartment door, waiting for us to be alone. After I heard the elevator ding, I said, “So you think I’m charming?”
Rowan crossed her arms over her chest. “My mom thinks you’re charming.”
“But I bet she heard it from you, ergo, you think I’m charming, Coach.”
“Full of yourself much, Lund?”
You’d like to be full of me, sweetheart. And I’d enjoy every hot second filling you up.
I didn’t say that out loud; I didn’t have to. The blush spreading across Rowan’s cheeks hinted that she’d been sidelined by the same thought.
“Without further feeding your ego . . . I have something for you.”
“You talked to your mom about me. My ego can take the rest of the night off.”
When I Need You (Need You #4)
Lorelei James's books
- All Jacked Up (Rough Riders #8)
- Branded as Trouble (Rough Riders #6)
- Chasin' Eight (Rough Riders #11)
- Cowgirls Don't Cry
- Raising Kane (Rough Riders #9)
- Rough, Raw, and Ready (Rough Riders #5)
- Shoulda Been a Cowboy (Rough Riders #7)
- Slow Ride
- Strong, Silent Type (Rough Riders #6.5)
- Cowboy Casanova (Rough Riders #12)
- Cowgirl Up and Ride (Rough Riders #3)
- Kissin' Tell (Rough Riders #13)