“She can do better,” Stack said, for about the millionth time.
Understanding took the edge out of his mom’s voice. “You know it, and I know it.”
Wow. First time she’d admitted that.
“Eventually Tabby will see it, too. But you know how she is, sweetie. The more we press her, the more she’s going to dig in.”
“You mean the more I press her.” He’d been the only one protesting. His mother, curse her patience, kept her nose out of her children’s lives as much as possible.
“She’s determined to prove you wrong. Leave Phil be. I promise you, he’ll screw up enough all on his own that eventually Tabby will wipe her hands of him. Just you wait and see.”
Stack had never looked at it that way before, and now that he did, he had to admit to the possibility. “I’ll try.”
“Thank you.” Letting out a weary breath, she said, “Now I really do want to nap.”
“All right.” Still worried, he said, “Love you.”
“I love you, too, son.”
For the remainder of the drive Stack’s thoughts bounced between his mother’s illness, his sister’s a-hole husband, and Vanity. Sweet, hot, irresistible Vanity.
Waiting on him. Anxious for him.
Would she be ready the moment he walked in the door? He wouldn’t mind showering with her again. He’d love teasing her body more. He couldn’t wait to take her completely...
That thought died an immediate and painful death the moment he saw her driveway filled with cars.
What the hell?
He parked on the street, slammed the car door and stalked up the walk with bad intentions.
As if she’d been watching for him, Harper opened the door.
That drew him up short.
“You get the joke now, don’t you?” Hooking her arm through his, Harper drew him in. “It is funny, Stack. Surely you’ll see that, right?”
CHAPTER SEVEN
NO. STACK DIDN’T SEE a damn thing funny about all his hot plans turning into a puff of smoke. Usually football parties were boisterous. Not so this time. Someone made a touchdown, and everyone cheered in near silence.
Lounging in various positions on the couch were Armie, Leese and Gage. No feet on tables, no misplaced pillows. Miles shared a chair with Norwood, and as Brand came out of the kitchen, Maggie followed him. Stack understood why when Brand slipped her a bite of cheese.
Stack looked at the beers and Cokes sitting on coasters, and the big bowl full of nachos—without a single crumb on the coffee table. It was like stepping into the land of Oz or something. “What the fuck is going on?”
“Keep it down,” Armie told him. “Vee’s still in bed.”
Brand offered him a beer. “She hadn’t slept.”
“Not a wink,” Leese said. “And it showed.”
“Dogs wouldn’t let her,” Miles chimed in.
“So we stayed.” Armie pushed away from the couch, and Brand immediately took his seat. Maggie crawled into his lap.
Stack’s mouth tightened, and though he had a lot to say, he couldn’t get a single word out. Gently but firmly, he pried Harper off his arm, walked her over and “gave” her to Gage. Without taking his gaze off the TV, Gage pulled her into his lap and nuzzled her neck.
Armie nudged Stack toward the kitchen. “Let’s talk.”
“Yeah. Let’s talk about all of you getting out.”
Fighting a grin, Armie soothed, “Now, Stack,” while still corralling him from the room. “You know no one is budging, at least not until halftime. And Vee’s dead-out anyway.”
His eyes flared. “How the hell do you know that?” If Armie had peeked in on her, he’d—
“She hasn’t come out of her room. The girl is a born hostess, so if she was awake, she’d have been out here, right? Especially with the dogs here. She did seem to feel personally responsible for them.”
Damn.
“Took us a bit to talk her into resting. And seriously, dude, if we’d left, the dogs would have been on her. The poor things are starved for attention.”
Another failing of his sister’s. Why the hell had she let Phil talk her into getting dogs anyway? He knew Tabby tried, and he didn’t doubt she loved the animals, but she worked fifty-hour weeks or more, so she didn’t have a lot of free time.
And she damn well should have known Phil wouldn’t step up.
Unaware of the path Stack’s thoughts had taken, Armie continued. “She needed to sleep, so why not let her catch up? In the end, I’m guessing that’ll work out better for you. You know, having her frisky instead of wiped out.”