“I think that’s supposed to be my line,” Brooks laughed.
I pushed off the wall and set the bag at my feet. “Well, then ask it.”
He crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m so confused right now. I’ve barely said a word and you’re already pissed off at me.”
Well, shit. He was right. “I’m not pissed.” At least that was what I was trying to tell myself. “At least, not at you.”
“This is different. I don’t think I’ve ever not been at the receiving end of your wrath.”
“I don’t have a wrath.” I wasn't even sure that made sense. “Or whatever.” Like that was going to make things better. I needed to grab the bottle of wine out of the bag and get a little liquid courage.
“Or whatever is right,” he chuckled. He dropped his arms to his sides and took two steps toward me. “So, why are you here?”
“Um, the guys and I were worried about you so I decided to come and see how you were.”
“So you drew the short stick and had to come here?”
Truth be told the only person who knew I was here was Harlyn, though I’m sure she had told Remy once she got home from work. “Yeah.” I snapped my fingers and tried to act like I was put out by having to be here. “I did bring the fixings for lasagna so I figure since I’m here, I might as well make you dinner.”
He looked over his shoulder where Susan had disappeared to. “Uh, really?”
Christy was down there. Whoever the hell she was. “Yeah. Is that okay?”
He turned back to me. His sexy smirk was gone, and he looked like he was ready to push me out the door and lock the door. “Uh, I’m no—”
“Brooks? Susan said you had a visitor.”
The blood drained from Brooks’ face, and his fists clenched at his sides. “Please just be nice to her, Frankie,” he whispered.
My head snapped back, and tried like hell to not be offended by his words. I was a nice person.
Most of the time.
All right, some of the time, but really, the only reason someone would see my bitchy side was because they deserved it. While I wasn’t going to be happy meeting Brooks’ girlfriend, I didn’t plan to be a raging bitch to her. She might get a bit of a cold shoulder from me, but you couldn’t really blame me for that. She had managed to snag the guy before I could.
Not that I wanted to snag Brooks or anything like that.
Here came hot mess Frankie again. I really needed to get my feelings in check. I held up my hand and pressed it to my chest. “Scouts honor, I’ll be on my best behavior.”
Before Brooks could warn me again to be on my best behavior, the woman who I assumed was Christy walked into the foyer and stood next to Brooks.
If I had ever wondered what Brooks would look like as a woman, all I had to do was look at the one standing next to him.
Don’t get me wrong, Brooks wasn’t feminine, and Christy wasn’t boyish looking, but you know what I meant. They had the same blue eyes, same bowed lips, and the color of their hair was exact.
Here I had been ready to duke it out with Christy, Brooks’ girlfriend, and all along, she was his mom.
Thank God I didn’t call her his girlfriend before she had walked in. I would have been opening my mouth and inserting my foot.
“Frankie, this is my mom.”
*
Chapter Twenty-Three
Brooks
Well, this wasn’t exactly what I had planned for the night.
“It’s so great to meet you. Brooks told us a story about you last night at dinner that had Susan and me rolling with laughter.” Mom looked down at the bag at Frankie’s feet. “Susan mentioned you brought dinner.”
Frankie looked down at the bag like she didn’t even know it was there. “Oh, I did.” She grabbed the bag off the floor and looked in it. “It’s just lasagna.”
Mom moaned and moved toward Frankie. “I haven’t had lasagna in ages, and I think the last time I did have it was when in a restaurant which probably wasn’t as good as what you’re going to make.” She grabbed the bag from Frankie and smiled at her. “It’s so nice you decided to come by.”
“I’ll get the oven on,” Susan called from the kitchen.
“You two talk for a bit. Susan and I will get everything out of the bag.” Mom walked into the kitchen and threw a wink my way. “She’s gorgeous,” she said loudly to Susan.
“Ah, sorry about that. Mom doesn’t really know what subtle is.”
Frankie’s eyes were still on where Mom had just walked. “That was your mom.”
“Uh, yeah. Last I checked, she was.”
Her eyes snapped to me. “If I knew she was here, I wouldn’t have come over. I didn’t mean to barge in on your time with her.”
I chuckled and shoved my hands in my pockets. “She lives with me, Frankie. You’re not interrupting anything.”
“Oh,” she mumbled. “So does that mean your dad…” she trailed off frantically looking around.
I didn’t even think Frankie had ever met the guy, and she was terrified of him. “He’s not here. I haven’t seen him since he told me he was leaving my mom because she was holding him back from the life he’s meant to be living.”
Frankie’s jaw dropped. “Say what?” she gasped. “I had no idea your parents separated. Hell, I don’t think anyone knows.”
And that was the way I wanted it to be. I knew that it wasn’t going to stay secret for long since Dad already had a chick he was moving into the house, but it was nice it hadn’t gotten out yet. “There’s a lot of people who don’t know, Frankie.”
“This is what you meant when you said you had a lot on your shoulders.”
“Yeah, that’s one of the things that have been distracting me.”
“There’s more?”
I really didn’t want to go into what all was wrong with my mom. She had been good since I had gotten back from the Sundown Nationals, and I had just been sticking to the house to get her into some kind of routine. “You think maybe we could talk about this not standing in the doorway?”
She looked around. “I think it’s technically called a foyer.”
She would be a smartass. “Whatever the hell it is.”
Her eyes connected with mine. “Can I ask just one question?”
I nodded and braced for whatever could possibly come out of her mouth. “Did you really think I was going to be rude or mean to your mom?”
I had hurt her when I had said that. I could see it in her eyes that she took what I had said to heart. “That’s not what I meant to say, Frankie. I just know you say whatever comes to mind without thinking. There’s some things going on with my mom, and I just needed to make sure you didn’t say anything to upset her.”
“But that’s your mom,” she insisted. “You really think I’m that big of a bitch I wouldn’t respect her?”
Shit, shit, shit. I had been worried that she was going to be mean when really I had been the one to be mean. “No, I don’t think that, Frankie. It’s just that…” I ran my fingers through my hair and looked up at the ceiling. “She’s got early onset dementia, and I never know what is going to trigger her. I couldn’t exactly blurt all that out before she walked in. I’m sorry. I don’t think you’re a bitch. I don’t think you’re mean. I just know you say it like it is, and I like that, but with my mom, I just don’t know how she would handle that.” I dropped my chin to my chest, and my shoulders sagged.