Wait for It

“Lou, you wanna go with me and see if Miss Pearl and Mr. Dallas want to come eat dinner with us?” I asked.

His hands paused on the remote in his hands as he seemed to mull over my proposal. “Mr. Dallas?”

“Yes.” Josh was over at his friend Kline’s house, so it was just the two of us. “Since he helped us with the backyard earlier,” I explained.

While I’d been in the middle of a shower, I came up with the idea of inviting him over for dinner as a thank-you for helping us clean up the yard hours ago. It was the least I could do. I knew he had leftovers, but that way they would last longer. He’d shown up at ten o’clock on the dot and stuck around for the next two hours, going above and beyond the neighborly and friendly call of duty.

Problem was, I didn’t want to make him feel weird. So I figured, why not invite his nana too? The nana I still didn’t understand he had.

With more grace than I figured the average five-year-old was capable of, Louie nodded. “Okay.”

“Okay, come on.” I gestured toward the door, and Mac, who was lying on the couch besides my kid, sat up, expectantly thinking he was going to get another walk. “I’m making your favorite at least, buster.”

“Chicken nuggets?” he gushed.

I blinked at him. “Spaghetti and meatballs.”

His shoulders slumped forward. “Oh. Yeah. I like that too.”

I sighed. “Let’s go.”

He followed me, pausing his game as he got to his feet. He’d dressed himself this morning and had on a bright green T-shirt with a pizza on it and red and black striped pajama pants. I thought about telling him to change, but who cared? It was only dinner.

Louie and I crossed the street, holding each other’s hands. I reached down and pinched him on the butt as we walked up the path to Dallas’s house, and halfway up the steps to the porch, the little turd smacked me on the butt. We were bickering as I knocked on the door and stood back, waiting. I wasn’t even sure if he was home or not. I was sticking my tongue out at Louie as the lock was turned.

I faced the door as it opened, expecting it to be a certain brown-haired, hazel-eyed man that I owed big time….

But it wasn’t him on the other side of the screen door.

It was a woman. A pretty, natural auburn-haired woman, and she was smiling. “Hi,” she said.

It took me maybe two seconds, but I managed to get out, “Hey. Is—”

The door opened wider and the woman stepped back as another face I recognized came forward with his eyebrows furrowed and the sides of a thinner mouth turned down into a frown. “Yeah?” was the ugly, unfinished greeting I got from the man I hadn’t seen in a while. Jackass Jackson.

“Hi. Is Dallas here?” I asked slowly, with as much patience as I could drag together—which wasn’t much, especially when this small part of my brain wondered if the woman was here with Jackson or… not.

She couldn’t be. Could she? Dallas wouldn’t do that, would he?

“What do you want?” Mr. Not-Mr.-Rogers asked.

I blinked and ground down on my teeth. “To talk to him.”

“Hold on,” Jackson droned, scowling as he closed the door in my face.

“Why is he so mean?” Lou asked almost immediately.

I shrugged at him and whispered, “Someone didn’t take a chill pill today.”

Moments later, the door opened wide. Dallas stood there, an uncomfortable expression on his face that didn’t sit well with me. “Hey.” His eyes landed on Lou and his smile got a little easier. “Hey, Lou.”

“Hi.”

“Hey. I didn’t know you had company again, sorry,” I explained quickly.

“Don’t apologize,” he said crisply. “He just got here.”

Did that mean the woman had already been there?

It’s none of my business. None.

“Well, we just came by to see if you wanted to come by for dinner as a thank-you for helping us clean up this morning,” I explained.

I tried not to let the way he barely scrunched up his nose hurt my feelings, but it did, just a little.

“I was going to invite Miss Pearl, too. We’re making spaghetti and meatballs.”

Lou whispered, “We?”

“But if your brother and your friend are over, obviously, stay with them,” I said to the older man.

Dallas’s head tipped to the side and his hand went up to pull at the collar of his T-shirt for a second, the tips of his fingers brushing against the bottom of the eagle head that I was pretty sure started right at the sensitive notch at his throat. “Uh….” He trailed off.

She was here with him. This lying, cheating, douchebag who had given me a hard time when he was…. It’s none of my business. None.

“Don’t worry about it,” I rushed out. “You can get leftovers another day if you want. I figured you wouldn’t take my money if I offered it.” My voice sounded a little tight and weird but not too horrible. “Unless you do.”

Dropping his hand to his pockets, Dallas took a step forward, closing the door behind him. His foot propped the screen door open as he locked his gaze on me. He wasn’t wearing any shoes, and I noticed how big his feet were. “It’s not that. I’d like dinner, and I’m sure Nana Pearl would too, it’s just… Jackson and his girl of the week just got here. I haven’t seen him in a couple of weeks.”

Why it felt like a weight had been lifted off my chest, I had no idea. But I could feel the difference. What were the chances he wouldn’t see it?

“I get it,” I croaked out before clearing my throat. Get it together. Was he trying to get me to invite Jackson and his friend over too? I couldn’t tell. That didn’t seem like Dallas behavior, but… I was such an idiot. Why would I think he’d actually have a woman over?

Because I was an idiot. That was why. Shit.

Like with most decisions in my life, I thought of my mom and what she would tell me to do and sighed. “Come over. It should be ready in an hour. You can bring him and his friend if you want. I mean, I’m not Italian and my spaghetti isn’t amazing, but this little squirrel thinks it’s all right.”

“It’s good,” my mini partner in crime chimed in.

Dallas’s mouth twitched as he glanced at the boy. “You think so, bud?”

Lou nodded, totally exaggerating. “Almost as good as chicken nuggets,” he confirmed.

“Better than chili?”

There was no hesitation. “No.”

I slanted him a look.

Raising his gaze back to me, my neighbor let out a sigh. “You sure about inviting them? He’s….” That hand went back to his collar to tug, exposing more of that brown ink over surprisingly tan skin. He swallowed a lot harder than I would expect he needed to do. “There’s a lot of sh—tuff you don’t know.”

I raised my hand, understanding his hesitation and knowing it was completely because Louie was with me. Whatever he wanted to say, he didn’t want to say in front of him. So I did what any adult would do—I put my hands over Louie’s ears. “He’s not going to kill us or anything, right?” I asked.

Dallas blew out a breath as the corners of his mouth bunched into a frown. “I’d never let that happen,” he stated so evenly, so matter-of-fact, this ripple of who-the-hell-knows-what shot up the nerves of my spine.

He’s just a nice guy. He’s married. He has a soft spot for single moms.

You are no one special, Diana, I reminded myself. You are no one special.

I cleared my throat and gave him a smile that was really fucking tight, my hands dropping from their spot on Louie’s ears. “Okay. Then, it’s fine. All three of you can come. We’re going to drop by Miss Pearl’s after this to invite her.”

“Sure?” Both of his eyebrows went up.

“Sure.”

* * *

“You smell like garlic.”

“You smell like fart.”

Louie choked like he couldn’t believe what I’d said before bursting out laughing, his hands busy holding several forks. “You’re mean!”

That had me grinning from across the table. “Okay, you smell like a cute fart. Like a little baby fart.”

“Babies smell.”

“When have you smelled a baby?”

“With Grandma and Grandpa.”

In the middle of setting the table, I stopped. “Are you lying to me?”

“No!”

I really doubted he’d smelled a baby—and really, babies smelled great most of the time, at least until you had to clean their diapers. I’d done my fair share of diaper duty, especially with Josh, but I was positive I’d done it with either a smile on my face or a grimace just because it smelled so awful. Formula poop was the worst.

“Speaking of your grandma and grandpa, don’t forget you’re staying with them for a week when I go visit Vanny, okay?” This was probably the third time I’d brought my trip up since buying my round-trip ticket to San Diego. I wanted him mentally prepared so he wouldn’t assume I was never coming back.

“Can I go with you?” he asked.

“Not this time.”

“Why?”

“Because you have school?” I grinned, eyeing him.

He pouted, his upper body deflating.

“We can all try to go visit her another time.”

A knock on the door had me raising my eyebrows at Lou and had Mac barking. I grabbed him by the collar and led him toward the back door, so he could hang out in the yard while Miss Pearl was over here. He was great with strangers, but I didn’t trust his crazy tail around a ninety-something-year-old. “Make sure it’s the neighbors and then let them in, please. Leave the forks so I can set them really quick.” I could already picture him running through the house with those tines aimed at his face.

“Okay,” he answered, dropping the silverware damn near instantly and running toward the front of the house.

A moment later, the sounds of familiar voices came from the doorway in the living room, and I peeked around to see Dallas, Miss Pearl, and the man whose ass I’d saved, in the living room. The woman was nowhere in sight. Louie was standing right by Miss Pearl, shaking her hand. It almost made me cry.

Setting the rest of the silverware as quickly as I could, I headed toward them, suddenly a little nervous. What if they hated my cooking?

“Hi, Miss Pearl,” I greeted the older woman first, taking her cool hands as she extended them in my direction.

“Thank you for inviting us over, Diana.”

I nodded and pulled back, my gaze going immediately to Dallas. The first thing that caught my eye was that he was wearing a button-down plaid shirt. It was the most clothes I’d seen on him. The brown and black pattern made his eyes pop. Hell, they might have made my heart pop if that was a possibility. But it wasn’t. It absolutely wasn’t.

“Hi again,” I said to him.

It was right then that I noticed how tight the skin around his eyes was despite the muscles of his cheeks shaping his mouth into a smile. “Thanks for having us….” He trailed off and glanced at the man standing next to him, forcing me to do the same.

Without the screen door between us and now that I’d spent more time with Dallas, the brothers’ resemblance was kind of amazing.

Except… despite knowing Dallas was the older one, he didn’t look like he was. Not at all. Jackson had more gray in his hair, his forehead more lined… but it was his eyes that aged him the most. There was something fundamentally different about the man who stood an inch shorter than my neighbor. There was just something radiating from him that seemed off. The way his presence made me feel reminded me of when Josh wanted something and I told him he couldn’t have it and he pouted over it.

“Jack, you’ve met Diana.”

Oh, we’d definitely met.

To give him credit, he extended his hand toward me even though he looked like he wanted to do everything other than that. I took his hand in mine and shook it, ignoring the way Jackson damn near rolled his eyes. I trusted Dallas, enough at least to let this man into my house.

“Nice to see you again,” I lied, taking my hand back.

“You too,” the man kind of grumbled, lying too, his eyes going to his hand briefly before he tucked it into his pocket.

At least we both felt the same way about each other.

I glanced at Dallas’s face as he stared hard at his brother. Huh. “Ready to eat?”

Silently, we headed over to the dining room, nestled in between the living room and kitchen. I wasn’t going to deny it. It was awkward. From Miss Pearl taking a seat as she scowled at something on the table—maybe I should have put names in front of the plates, I didn’t know—to the expression the two brothers shared, the weirdness was there. It was definitely alive and well.

“Need help?” Dallas asked as he stood behind Miss Pearl’s seat after pushing her chair in.

“I’ve got it. There’re only two more things I need to grab,” I explained, watching as Lou slipped out of his chair and darted into the kitchen ahead of me. “I have help already. Thanks.”

I’d barely taken a step into the kitchen when Louie said, “I can help, Tia.” Grabbing the bread I’d left warming in the oven, I slipped the sticks onto a plate and handed them over to him with a wink before nabbing the meatballs from the oven too.

The head of the table had been left empty and somehow Louie ended up sitting next to Miss Pearl while Dallas took the seat closest to mine with his brother on his right. I had to fight the urge to rub my hands over my pants. Fuck it. “We don’t usually pray, but if you want to…”

Miss Pearl guffawed. “Us neither. Amen.”

And with that, I started scooping pasta onto her plate first, following it up with sauce and meatballs. Dallas asked Louie for his plate and added pasta, and then taking the ladle from me, he put meatballs with a little marinara drizzled. “Is that good, Louie?” he asked my boy first, and then, “How many breadsticks do you want?”

“Parmesan?” I asked my neighbor, still watching the other two out of my peripheral vision.

“Load me up, if you will,” the older woman confirmed.

I was in the middle of sprinkling cheese when Dallas slipped my plate out from in front of me and started adding food onto it. “You want more?” he asked me just as I set the plate in front of his grandmother.

“Yes, please,” I said before telling him when to stop. No one, besides my mom, had ever served me food before. No one.

His wife was an idiot. His wife was a giant, fucking idiot with a little crazy sprinkled in.

Dallas finished serving me, then himself, and finally handed the serving utensils over to his brother. None of us talked much as we ate, but Dallas met my gaze more than a few times while we did, and we shared a smirk or two.

“I like my meatballs with more thyme and my sauce with more garlic, but I would come over for dinner again if you invited me,” Miss Pearl noted in that brutally honest way of hers as she was finishing up the food on her plate.

All I could do was hold back and smile and nod, biting the inside of my cheek the entire time. “Thanks.”

“I’m full,” Lou moaned from his spot.

I eyed his plate. “Two more bites, please.”

He sighed, blinked at his plate a couple of times, and nodded, shoveling the smallest forkful I’d ever seen into his mouth. Smart-ass.

“Any dessert?” Miss Pearl piped up.

Dessert? Shit. “I have vanilla ice cream.”

She was dabbing at the corners of her mouth when she answered, “That sounds lovely.”

“Okay.”

“Dallas, Jackson, would you like some?”

“I’d love some,” Dallas replied quickly, not so subtly eyeing his brother.

Jackson…

“No.” Silence. “Thank you.”

I nodded and headed into the kitchen. What the hell was wrong with that guy? Was he just embarrassed about what happened months ago? Someone needed to grow up.

I was in the middle of pulling the package of cones out of a cabinet when I heard, “Need help?” In what I now thought of as his usual spot, Dallas had a hip against the counter closest to the dining room, looking even bigger than ever before in his dark shirt.

“Sure. The ice cream is in the freezer, if you can grab it.”

Dallas dipped his head before going for the container as I found the scooper in a drawer. He handed it over while I pulled out a cone. I only managed to put one scoop into the first cone before I broke down. “Is your brother still mad about the thing outside your place or does he hate everyone?” I whispered.

There was no hesitation in his response, but he did lower his voice. “He hates everyone.”

I couldn’t help but snicker as I snuck him a quick glance. “I guess that makes me feel better.”

His chuckle was so low I could barely hear it, but it made me grin as I dug the metal spoon into the container. Dallas took the cone from me and handed me a new one. “He was a kid when our dad died. He handled it really bad,” he explained quietly, his voice a gentle rumble. “I left for the navy and he didn’t take that well either. Things went downhill from there.”

Something about that didn’t sound right. “Downhill how?”

His little hum didn’t sit well with me. “He’s been in jail.”

My hand only paused for a second halfway inside the container. “For what?”

“Mostly drugs.”

Mostly drugs. What the hell did that mean? How many times had that fucker been in jail?

“He hasn’t messed around with that in a while,” Dallas quickly explained as he must have noticed me not moving. “You don’t have anything to worry about.”

Was this the reason Ginny had been all “Jackson is there” in a gaspy voice? Why wouldn’t she bring it up again? Why hadn’t Trip said something?

Had he even been at the house when Trip had come by?

“You said people can change,” Dallas whispered, taking a step closer to me, forcing me to tuck my elbow into my side as I looked up at his face.

I had, hadn’t I?

“He isn’t doing illegal shit anymore. All he does is have a bad attitude, but I’m trying to help him get his life together. I know you don’t have any reason to trust me, but I promise, you have nothing to worry about with him and the team, much less with him staying at my house.”

He was right, I didn’t have a reason to trust him, but for some reason, a soon as I thought that, I accepted that I did. Every single thing that had ever come out of his mouth, and every action I’d ever seen him commit, had been one based on loyalty or what was right.

And that acknowledgment was a little terrifying. I trusted Dallas. When the hell had that happened?

To make matters worse, I told him. “Okay. I trust you.”

No sooner had the words come out of my mouth than I realized why they felt so strange. Trust felt a whole lot like love. You were giving someone a part of you, if you really thought about it. Which I wasn’t.

But when Dallas’s brown-green eyes met mine, slightly widened, I’d swear he stood a little taller. And he nodded, saying only one word, “Okay.”