Sweet Home Carolina (26 page)

“Aunt Amy, can we put the hamburgers on? We’re starved!”
Johnnie called from the loft balcony, where a stereo boomed.

“Start carrying the salads out to the picnic table, and I’ll
put the burgers on in a minute,” she called back. “Keep an eye on Louisa and
Josh until I get there.”

The pounding of teenage shoes on the back staircase spoke of
hunger and not eagerness to obey her command, but she’d counted on that. She preferred
to have all the kids out of the house when Zack came in. She wanted at least a
minute alone with him to steady her bouncing nerves. Her pulse pounded like a love-struck
adolescent’s.

She bit her lip to add color before she opened the door — and
almost fell backward as Evan stormed in.

“Who is that guy and why is he staying in our house?” her ex
demanded, stalking into the big front room as if he owned it.

Evan’s size used to reassure her. She’d loved him for being
her bulwark against the world’s storms. Now she saw how he used his bulk to
intimidate, and she refused to be intimidated. Hands on hips, she remained at
the open door, studying the situation rather than bothering to respond
similarly to his angry outburst. Evan had obviously gone to their house first —
without calling. Tracking her to Jo’s had no doubt strained his sociability.

“I didn’t expect you this weekend,” she replied mildly,
casting a glance to the gravel drive where a Bentley rolled to a halt next to
the Beamer Evan had kept in the divorce. She thought she was seeing the
scenario now, and she couldn’t resist smiling, wishing she’d seen how that
battle had gone down. “And the house is mine, not yours, if you’ll remember
correctly. I can do with it what I will.”

Wearing tan tailored trousers and a black knit golf shirt
that molded to his athletic shoulders and six-pack abs, Zack strolled up to the
porch, not a feather ruffled by the obviously irate earlier encounter with Evan
at the other house.

“Are you
living
with that creep?” Evan shouted. “I’ll not have my kids in the same house with —
”

“A foreigner with too many teeth and headlights you will
punch out?” Zack finished for him in his clipped European accent. Carrying a
bottle of wine, he winked at Amy, draped his free arm across her shoulders, and
raised his eyebrows at her furious ex. “He is like a bull in a.…” he glanced
around at the cabin’s huge paneled living room, “in a barn?”

Amy tried not to giggle. She had a house full of kids and a
grill that would burn out if she didn’t get food on it soon. She’d grown up
admiring the testosterone wars fought over Jo, but she was too busy to
appreciate male idiocy now. “The kids are out on the swings, Evan, but they’re
not expecting you. I can add a hamburger to the grill, if you want one. I
assume you’ve met Zack?”

“You haven’t explained what he’s doing in our house, Ames!”
Evan shouted.

She disentangled herself from Zack’s much too masculine and
proprietary hold to return to the kitchen. His spicy aftershave had her stomach
rumbling. Or other parts lower. She needed to remember that Evan likely had
fifty pounds and four inches over Zack, but Zack packed an athlete’s power and
muscle. A war would not be pretty.

“Sleeping there as far as I know,” she called back. “But ask
Zack. It’s not any of my concern.”

“What do you mean it’s not your concern?” Evan demanded,
following her.

“She means I have paid for the privilege of having the house
to myself, and I can walk the ceilings if I like, as long as I do not harm the
premises.” Unperturbed, apparently indulging in masculine amusement at Evan’s
bluster, Zack set his wine bottle on the counter and sampled an olive from the
Greek salad.

Amy was excruciatingly aware that Zack was following her
every move. Knowing his competitive instincts, she could tell he was assessing
Evan, the situation, and her reaction, processing everything through that
high-caliber brain of his, and probably making mincemeat of it.

She had this kind of argument with Evan all the time now. It
was meaningless. Evan just liked to have his way, and now she finally had the
freedom — and gumption — to defy him. She’d bitten her tongue too many times
when they’d been married not to enjoy upsetting his applecart now.

“We close on the house on Friday,” she reminded Zack,
ignoring Evan. “I’ll have to remove the rest of the furniture by Thursday
night. Do you have a place to go yet?”

“You will own the cottage Friday, will you not?” he asked
with carelessness, moving on to sample the bruschetta.

Adam burst in to grab a platter, glance at the adults, and
rush back out again without asking about the hamburgers. Smart kid, Amy
figured. She knew from Jo’s explanations that Flint’s boys had endured a lot of
confrontations between their parents in their growing up years. She had no
desire to remind them of that unhappy time.

“I’ll sign the deed Friday, but the cottage won’t be fit to
move into. We’ll have to stay at the apartment for a while longer.” She elbowed
her ex from blocking the refrigerator. “Go visit with your children, Evan. They
haven’t seen you in a month.”

“I want to know what the hell’s going on here first. Where
are you moving my kids that isn’t fit for living in? What apartment?”

“Oh, did I forget to tell you?” Reaching for the ketchup,
Amy turned to bat her eyelashes and plaster on a fake smile. “I bought a
house.” She didn’t add,
and I did it
without you
. She was still pretty amazed herself.

“How can you buy a house? You don’t even have a decent job.”
Evan scowled, crossing his arms, making it obvious he had no intention of
leaving while Zack was there.

Opening drawers until he located a corkscrew, Zack didn’t
seem to be wasn’t in any hurry to get out from under foot either. He tutted
disapprovingly at Evan’s comment. “You doubt that the inimitable Amaranth can
look after herself? No wonder you have communication problems.”

“The only thing
inimitable
about
Amaranth
is her ability to run
up credit cards!”

Lifting the tray of prepared hamburger patties, Amy escaped
the war zone for the more pleasant company in the backyard. It might be amusing
to be spoken about in the third person, but she had hungry kids to feed and not
a lot of patience for male posturing these days.

She’d be a little more pleased that Zack thought her
inimitable
if she didn’t believe he was
just figuratively punching Evan’s lights out. Zack’s civilized exterior didn’t
fool her for an instant. Beneath the smooth tailoring and behind the charming
smile was a man who had a mind with wicked teeth and the conscience of a wolf.

“Mommy, my tummy hurts.” Louisa wrapped her chubby arms
around Amy’s knee, immobilizing her.

“You didn’t eat those green apples, did you? I told you
they’d make you sick.” She looked around for help. “Johnnie, would you take
this tray for me? Carry it over to the grill.”

Wearing his hair buzzed short these days, still sporting a
gold earring and the first signs of adolescent acne, Flint’s twelve-year-old
loped over to take the tray. “Are you sure there are enough?” he asked, eyeing
five pounds of hamburger with disappointment. “I could eat a horse.”

“I don’t recommend it or your tummy will hurt, too. There
are bratwursts in the refrigerator if those aren’t enough. Try some of the
salads.” Amy reached down to lift Louisa from her leg.

“I don’t like onions,” he replied, galloping off with the
burgers.

“I like onions,” Zack murmured near her ear, deftly handing
her a glass of wine while taking Louisa from her arms. “They have many layers
and taste spicy.”

Just the rumble of his voice could shiver her spine into a
puddle of lust. Amy sipped the wine to steady herself, then glanced at the
glass in surprise. It was the most delicious wine she’d ever tasted, and
probably cost ten fortunes. “I cannot deal with this,” she muttered, fortified
enough by the adult beverage to admit her tension. “I cannot. Back off, Zack,
or I’m likely to hurl.”

“Hurl what?” he asked with interest, backing off with Louisa
in his arms.

“You don’t want to know.” Amy eyed Louisa contentedly curled
against Zack’s neck, touched her little girl’s forehead to test for fever, and
frowned in concern, forgetting both wine and argument. “Maybe you better set
her on the porch swing and let her rest a bit. She feels kind of warm.”

“Give her here. I’ll take care of her.” Marching down the
back steps, Evan reached for his daughter.

“Daddy!” Josh cried joyfully, jumping from the swings to
race across the yard.

Louisa grinned and held her arms out for her father, too.

With reluctance, Zack let the little girl go. She’d felt so
right breathing her baby breath on his neck that his heart had almost broken to
give her up. How could he ever forget the feel of wiggly weight in his arms,
the baby powder scents, the childish giggles? Better that she go to her father,
where she belonged.

And better that he stay and admire the children’s mother.
Amy had changed into a gauzy peach-and-lemon shirt over a lemon tank top and
matching shorts. He loved the free-flowing lines and soft colors on her. They
suited her much more than the dull, tailored outfits she wore to work.

“Hey, Son.” Evan rubbed Josh’s hair while bouncing Louisa on
his arm. “Want to go home with me tonight?”

“Johnnie’s gonna teach me to climb the apple tree.” Intent
on his own program, Josh ignored the question. “Mommy, when are we gonna eat?
We’re starving.”

He imitated his older cousins so well that Zack laughed.
Aware that the other man threw him a look of annoyance, he tried not to make
the evening any harder on his hostess by explaining his laughter. “I will help
your lovely mama make burgers so you will not starve, all right?”

“Yeah!” Josh pumped his fist in the air. “I want mustard and
pickles.”

“And salad,” Amy reminded him. “Eat some of the tomato bread
and I’ll fix you a plate of macaroni in a minute.”

Zack watched the older boys inhaling bruschetta as if it
were peanuts and decided that must be the
tomato
bread
. Josh ran off to join them, leaving his father without a backward
glance. Zack could almost sympathize, except Evan seemed more intent on
antagonizing Amy than paying attention to his marvelous son.

“Where are you taking my kids?” Evan demanded, following Amy
and Zack across the yard to the grill rather than putting Louisa on the porch.
“I have a right to know where they’ll be living.”

“If you had bothered to come and pick them up when you were
supposed to, or even taken some of your precious time to call, you’d know by
now.”

Zack thought perhaps he ought to disassociate himself from
the family argument, but he hated to see the little girl caught up in it, and
he disliked deserting Amy if she needed his help. He knew nothing of grilling
hamburgers, but he had a lively interest in walking all over brutes who growled
and made others miserable, especially at a party.

“If the little one is feeling poorly, perhaps I could take
her to the porch?” he suggested. He wanted to add that Louisa shouldn’t have to
hear her parents argue, but he thought Amy understood that. He’d suffered
enough family fights to know children didn’t need to hear them.

She gave him a look of relief that confirmed his opinion.
“Would you, please? Sometimes she just gets too excited.”

“She’s not too excited,” Evan argued, refusing to release
the toddler. “I can take care of her just fine.”

Amy slapped meat patties onto the grill. “Excellent. Then go
sit with her on the porch swing until she’s feeling better. I need to get these
cooked before the kids start chewing my ankles.”

“Daddy! Come see me swing,” Josh yelled from the swing set.

“He’s been asking for you for weeks,” Amy said in a heated
undertone. “Give him some attention.”

Zack felt the other man’s glare and realized he was an
obstacle to Amy’s wishes. Grinning, he saluted Evan and strolled away to see
what the older boys were doing. He did not need to make Amy’s life miserable.
If it were within his power, he would sweep her away from all this. But she had
responsibilities that tied her down, and he had no right to interfere, so he
left the field. For now.

He might seriously reconsider his strategic retreat if Amy’s
ex continued to make an ass of himself in front of the children.

“Where’s Luigi?” Adam asked as Zack helped himself to more
of the excellent bruschetta before it disappeared. The fresh tomatoes and basil
no doubt came from the garden in the back corner. The vines were almost spent,
but he could see a glint of red here and there. Bruschetta should be made only
with the freshest of ingredients. These might be the last of the season, and he
savored the spicy sweet blend of flavors.

The picnic table was covered with an assortment of
plastic-wrapped salad bowls. Picking up a heavy paper plate with one hand, Zack
uncovered a bowl with the other. “Luigi went to see a movie in Asheville.” More
likely, he went to find a woman. With no corporate spies to terrorize and no
gyms to work out in, Luigi was bored. “You should ask him to teach you
sharpshooting. He is an expert.”

“Would he? Teach us?” Johnnie asked in awe.

Zack shrugged. “Certainly. He taught me.”

From the corner of his eye, he watched Evan reluctantly
leave Amy to see what his son was doing. The man had no clue how to play with
his children, it was evident. He held a sickly Louisa like a bag of feed and
stood at a distance from his little boy, watching Josh pump his legs to set the
swing in motion but making no effort to help him swing high, as the boy so
obviously wished to do.

To interfere, or not to interfere. That was the question.
Whether ’twas nobler to suffer the slings and arrows.…

Oh, hell, it was more fun to interfere. Bullies needed to be
pulled up short and taught to mind their manners.