Games of the Heart (48 page)

He stared at it a second wishing he was the type of man to walk away. But he wasn’t that type of man. His kids loved the shit Mimi made and their mother bought it for them. So he took the bag only for her not to let it go.

Fuck.

His eyes went to her.

“Really, I’m sorry,” she whispered. “Honestly, this was not how I wanted this to go.”

“You get one more thing,” he told her, “and that is to explain what you wanted from this.”

“We need to be…closer…or something. For the kids. We need to improve our relationship. I just got off-track straight off the bat. And…I…well, truly, Mike, I’m sorry.”

She let go of the bag.

Mike didn’t let go of her eyes.

“You want that, first you show me you give a shit about our children. At the same time you lay off about Dusty and I don’t mean just to me. I hear that you’re sayin’ shit to our kids or any-fucking-body about my woman, we got problems. You manage to do all that then we’ll talk about improving our relationship. Until then, Audrey, we’re back to where we were a couple of weeks ago.”

She held his eyes and nodded.

Mike finished with, “Reesee’s English teacher spoke to me. She told me Reesee’s exceptionally gifted. The teacher’s name is Raquel Layne. You give a shit, you might wanna contact her and see what that’s about. I’ll be sitting down with Rocky and Reesee to discuss this and how we’re gonna open up avenues for Reesee to explore it. You want on board with that, as her mother, obviously, you’re welcome. But it is likely going to entail Reesee either going to a private school for gifted students or camps, both of which are gonna cost some cake. You want a part of
that
you’re welcome but that means you layin’ off the shoes. Considering what I read of Reesee’s work, Rocky’s not blowin’ sunshine so if you wanna give your daughter the attention and future she deserves, I’d suggest starting to lay off the shoes now.”

Her lips were parted in surprise but Mike didn’t give a fuck about that either. He was done.

And he communicated this by muttering, “Drive safe,” then, without delay, he walked away.

* * * * *

Furious, Mike grabbed his jacket, shrugged it on and prowled down the hall.

No, Rees and Fin were on the sectional watching TV. He’d had pizza with his kids then Rees got a text from Fin and asked if he could come over. Mike had said yes. Fin came, Mike gave him his usual warning with his eyes then he went up to his office to read through Darrin Holliday’s will.

Now he had to get to the farm, talk to Dusty and Dean, get Debbie’s home phone number and ream her fucking ass.

Which meant either kicking Fin out or leaving his daughter with her new boyfriend with only her nearly seventeen year old brother as chaperone.

He wanted to kick Fin out. It was an instinct he had just because he was a Dad.

But as he stalked into his living room, he knew he wasn’t going to do it. And he wasn’t going to do it because he loved his daughter, it was early, just going on eight o’clock and she liked being with her boyfriend. And further Mike wasn’t going to do this because her boyfriend just lost his Dad and Mike knew Fin got something good out of being with his girl. The alternative was being at home in a house hazed with grief and a Mom who was trying his shit with her weakness.

Fuck.

“I’m goin’ to the farm,” he announced, all three kids looked to him, surprise on their faces but Mike only looked to No. “Everyone, including you, stays in this room or the kitchen. Am I clear?”

No’s face got knowing and a teasing light flared in his eyes. Mike was clear. And, likely, Rees and/or Fin were going to catch some of No’s shit.

This was good. No handing out shit would mean they’d have to deal with it, react to it and would have less time to find ways to get into what Mike would consider trouble.

“Yeah, Dad,” No muttered.

Mike cut his gaze through Fin and Rees who were sitting close but not cuddling on the couch.

He had no clue if cuddling would commence once he left considering No was there. He doubted it considering No would jump on that faster than you could blink. He also would likely never know. Which was good.

Without another word, he walked toward the backdoor but was stopped when he heard Fin call, “Mr. Haines?”

He looked back and gave Fin his eyes. Fin’s face was blank but his eyes were intense.

“Everything okay at the farm?” Fin asked and Mike held his eyes.

He was worried, good at hiding it but still concerned.

Jesus, half the time, if Mike didn’t know, he’d think that kid was thirty-five not seventeen.

“Yeah, Fin. All good. Brief you when I get back,” Mike answered.

Fin jerked up his chin.

Totally thirty-five. Jesus.

Mike didn’t know what to do with that either.

He went out the door, down his deck, through the yard and out the back gate. On the short walk through the chill air, he tried to pull his shit together.

Debbie was not only a bitch, the bitch was a
bitch.

Mike had been right. Darrin was no fool and his sister hadn’t fooled him. There was a long, detailed codicil in the will that stated that not only could the land not be broken up, but also no decisions could be made on its sale or any alterations made on or to the land until Finley Declan Holliday had reached majority and could participate in these decisions. Further, the inheritance Deborah and Dusty Holliday came into upon their brother’s death was not equal distribution of the land, its structures and its assets. Not even fucking close. It was just enough for them to assist in any decisions Fin, as a young adult, might make and for them to have hands in their family legacy. And it further stated that Fin was entitled to the opportunity to buy them out at any time but Fin or Kirb were the only individuals who had this right. The farm would not leave family hands unless Fin or Kirb owned all the land outright, should they buy out their aunts’ and each other’s portions, and made this decision sometime in their adulthood.

For whatever reason, Darrin had left the majority of the land to Finley. Kirby’s inheritance did not equal the assets Finley had inherited which included the bulk of the property, the house, outbuildings and equipment. Likely in an effort to make what could feel like a blow strike softer, Darrin had left his younger son a sizeable amount of money he’d somehow accrued. If Darrin had lived the years he should have had, this money would have been substantial. Even as it was, it was far from shit. It was a smart ploy and provided Kirby with the opportunity to buy into his legacy and work it with his brother or invest in his own future whereas his brother was, for the most part, given his.

And Kirby’s monetary inheritance was placed in his Aunt Dusty’s hands to manage until he reached the age of eighteen, should he attend college, with the requirement it was used only toward earning a university degree. If Kirby didn’t go to college, he didn’t receive his inheritance until he was twenty-five unless it was to buy into the land his brother would be working.

As Mike suspected, Darrin was not stupid, he knew life was life, anything could happen and he knew the players in his children’s lives should something happen to him. Therefore, like any good parent, he’d put an enormous amount of forethought into making certain his sons’ interests were seen to as fairly as he could.

Why he did not share this with Rhonda, who apparently had no idea, Mike had no clue.

Why Debbie appeared to have flat out lied about the contents of the will, Mike could guess and his guess pissed him right the fuck off.

Therefore, Mike failed spectacularly at pulling his shit together by the time he lifted a hand a rapped his knuckles on the front door of the Holliday home.

The door was open by Della Holliday, Dusty’s Mom.

“Mike!” she exclaimed, smiling her welcome as she immediately stepped aside. “What a lovely surprise.”

Mike had always liked Della. Then again, except for Debbie, and only recently had his enmity increased toward her, he’d always liked all the Hollidays.

“Della,” he muttered, stepping in. She closed the door, turned to him and he didn’t delay. “Need a word with Dean, Dusty and yourself. Once I have that word, you can decide how or if you’ll share what I gotta say with Rhonda.”

A cloud passed over her face, he saw it, he didn’t like it and he placed it squarely on Debbie’s shoulders right where it belonged.

“Mike, son, to what do we owe this honor?” Mike heard from behind him and he turned to see Dean walking out of the living room, a smile on his face.

The good news that Dusty had already shared was that Dean nor Della looked askance on Mike being with their youngest daughter after he’d been with their older one. He and his children had gone to dinner at the Holliday’s home the night before and it had been pleasant. Dusty set the tone being mostly a nut, partly a teasing aunt and lastly a father’s new girlfriend being cool with his kids. She was pleased as hell her parents were there and didn’t hide it which made the atmosphere light and almost gave it a celebratory feel. Things only went to shit after the family talk commenced and the McGrath information was shared.

So the welcome had been extended last night. He had no one to win over. All that was good.

Unfortunately the rest of it was bad.

“Wish I could say I came over for a beer and to chew the fat, Dean,” Mike told him. “But Dusty gave me Darrin’s will today at lunch, I read over it just now and there are some things you need to know.”

Dean’s face went hard, his eyes flashed to his wife then his mouth opened and he boomed, “
Dusty! Get down here! Mike’s here!
”

Gratifyingly quickly, Dusty appeared at the top of the stairs. Just like Dusty, she made this even better because she did it with her face wreathed in smiles.

She’d fallen in without word to Mike’s attempts to add her gradually to his kids’ lives. Being herself, natural, casual, open, funny with his kids and not bitching about the fact that, even in their relationship which for the most part was new, it was good, it was intense and their bond was strengthening fast, she didn’t get him every free minute of his day.

Then again, even as a kid, unlike her sister, she didn’t mind sharing with people she cared about.

“Hey, babe,” she greeted half jumping, half skipping down the steps like a teenager. Her long hair swinging around her shoulders, her limbs loose, her eyes never leaving him, the smile never leaving her face.

“Hey,” Mike returned, smiling back.

“Where’s Rhonda?” Dean asked when she was four steps from the bottom and Dusty’s head turned her Dad’s way.

“Bedroom,” she muttered, hitting the bottom of the steps then directly hitting Mike, tipping her head back, pressing her soft body into his side, hand to his abs, feet rolling up to her toes, inviting his kiss.

He dipped his head while sliding an arm around her and gave it to her.

A brush on the lips and when he lifted his head he saw the disappointment flash through her eyes. He liked it, the reason behind it but he wasn’t going to assuage it.

He was also gradually adding to his kids’ lives displays of affection to his woman. He didn’t want to go too fast and freak them out or turn them off especially considering both of them were growing close, and rapidly, to Dusty. That said, he was never going to open them up to how Mike and Dusty were together when it was just Mike and Dusty. Mostly because it was rude in front of anybody, definitely in front of your kids. In the rare good times they had, he didn’t hesitate cuddling with, touching, kissing or holding Audrey but beyond that, no. However, that was where he was aiming things with his kids and Dusty.

Dusty had no such qualms and it was likely he could have added tongue right in front of her mother and father and she wouldn’t care.

He, however, did.

He grinned at her.

She pressed closer and rolled her eyes.

His grin became a smile.

“Kirb?” her father barked, the one syllable sharp and in the curve of Mike’s arm he felt Dusty’s body jolt with surprise as her head turned to her Dad.

Rolling back down to the soles of her feet but keeping her body pressed close, she answered, “Fin’s room. We were watching TV.”

Dean nodded then ordered, “Living room.”

Without delay, he turned on his sock-covered foot and stomped in.

Della followed.

Dusty pressed even closer.

“What’s going on?” she whispered.

“I read Darrin’s will,” Mike whispered back.

“Oh shit,” she kept whispering, her gaze scanning his face for clues.

“Damn straight,” Mike replied.

Her eyes narrowed and her nose scrunched. This was her seriously pissed off look, he guessed, seeing as he’d never seen it before.

If that was her pissed off, they were both in trouble. She thought he was hot when he was pissed. He thought she looked adorable.

He guided her into the living room and they made it to find Dean standing and Della perched on the arm of a chair, her fingers on both hands engaged in wringing each other. Mike let Dusty go then he turned and slid the pocket doors closed behind him.