Wrong Place, Right Time (The Bourbon Street Boys #2)

“Auntie May!” They jump on her all at once and pull her down to the floor. She falls into a pile, collapsing in giggles right along with them.

I stand in the entrance to the room with Ozzie next to me, watching the love-fest. My heart grows two sizes bigger, stuffing my chest full.

“She adores those kids,” he says.

“Can you blame her? They are pretty damn cute, if I do say so myself.” Sammy is clinging to her back while the two girls struggle to get away from the tickle monster who has them pinned to the floor. May uses her best evil laugh to make it that much more exciting for them.

“They are. She’s going to make a great mom someday herself.”

I look up at him and narrow my eyes. “Are you trying to tell me something?”

He looks down at me and stares. Before he can respond, though, the doorbell rings again.

I look at the door. “What the heck? What’s going on?”

Ozzie shrugs, being the man of few words that he is.

I point up at his face. “Don’t think you’re getting out of that conversation we were just about to have.”

It’s possible his mouth quirks up in a shadow of a smile, but I don’t have time to verify; the doorbell is ringing again.

I check the peephole and panic.

Dev’s here.





CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

I am not prepared for this. Dev? At my house? With my sister and the kids here? And Ozzie? God, no! Not after the day I’ve had. Part of me wants to turn him away, to tell him that we’re going to be together tomorrow anyway, and I really need to work on the things that Lucky and I collected yesterday at Blue Marine.

But of course I’m not going to do that. I’ve been thinking about him almost constantly since the last time I saw him, and I’m dying to know if he’s been doing anything like that about me. He probably hasn’t. He’s probably already been on that dating website and found somebody to go out with on Saturday. Just the thought of that allows me to be more subdued than I probably would’ve been when I open the door to let him in.

“Hey, there . . .” At first my eyes go to Dev, but then they drop to the figure next to him. Time stands still for a few seconds. I know what I’m seeing, but it’s not quite computing.

A small boy in a wheelchair. And he has Dev’s eyes.

I look up at the tall man? my smile even brighter. “And you brought your son with you! How exciting!” I look down at his son and lean over with my hand extended. “I’m so happy to meet you! Hi, my name is Jenny. You must be Jacob.”

“Yes. That’s me.” He smiles.

I have no idea why Dev’s son is in a wheelchair, but I can see that it would probably be very difficult if not impossible for him to walk. His body is very small and twisted to the side. He looks like he has a severely curved spine.

I look up at Dev, hoping that my expression is not as crazy as it feels on my face. I’m sure I must look like the Joker, trying so hard not to look weird and unnatural when of course I look weird and unnatural, with a smile that stretches way too far. How could I not? I’m getting a cramp in my left cheek.

“Hey,” Dev says, almost shyly. “Ozzie and May mentioned they were stopping by, and they said I should come by with Jacob for a few minutes. I told them it was maybe not a great idea, since you had no warning we were coming . . . I tried to text you but didn’t get an answer. I probably should have waited to hear from you . . .”

I step back quickly and open the door wide. “No, don’t be silly! Of course you should stop by! I’m so glad you came. We were just about to order some pizza. You should join us!” I look down at Dev’s son as he uses a joystick to maneuver his wheelchair over my threshold. “Do you like pizza, Jacob?”

I hate to admit this even to myself, but I don’t even know if he can eat pizza. I may have just committed a major faux pas by asking. I wasn’t prepared for this. If I’d known he was coming, and that he’s disabled, I could have researched his condition online or talked to someone or something, so I’d know what to do or say without sticking my foot in my mouth. Gah, I hate that I’m this ignorant!

“Sure, I love pizza,” he says, acting like I’m a totally normal person asking a completely acceptable question.

Phew. Disaster averted.

As Dev walks by, I look up and pat him on the shoulder, hoping like hell that all my internal thoughts have not been put on display by my traitor face. “Thanks for coming by.”

I can see from his expression that he’s nervous or uncomfortable, and I’d hate for him to feel that way because of me and my stupid reaction. He’s probably wondering if he did the right thing by coming here, and I don’t want him to have any doubts about that.

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