Beverly Barton 3 Book Bundle. BEVERLY BARTON
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Thanks, Bernie. Thanks for knowing what to say and do to put a smile on my kid’s face.
Bernie reached up into a top cabinet for a platter. Jim’s gaze zeroed in on her butt when the material of her brown slacks tightened across each cheek. She had a nice rear end. High, rounded, and firm. A twinge of sexual awareness reminded Jim that he was ogling his boss.
Jerking his gaze away and focusing on the sizzling steaks, Jim sucked in a deep breath, then blew it out in a loud whoosh. What the hell was the matter with him, looking at Bernie’s rear end and actually getting aroused? Not only was she his boss, she was also definitely not interested in him as a man. And you’re not interested in her. She’s not your type. Her sister, Robyn, is your type.
But that was another problem. He’d had one date with Robyn, and despite the fact she was a gorgeous woman, he had discovered that she was far too much like his ex-wife to suit him. One Mary Lee in a lifetime was more than enough for any man.
“Here’s the platter.” Kevin held out the large oval plate as he emerged from the kitchen. “Bernie set the ice cream maker in the sink and plugged it in. She said the ice cream would be frozen by the time we get through eating our steaks. Are they ready yet?”
“Yep, they’re ready.” Jim took the plate and set it on the shelf on the side of the grill, then using the large fork, he lifted each steak and placed them one by one on the platter.
“It is okay for me to call her Bernie, isn’t it?” Kevin asked. “She said friends should call each other by their first names, and she wants us to be friends.”
“Sure, it’s okay.”
Bernie opened the back door and called to them. “Everything’s set. Bring those steaks in here and let’s dig in.”
Within thirty minutes the three of them had finished off their salads, steaks, and baked potatoes. Then they ate huge bowls of vanilla ice cream, the best Jim had eaten since he’d been a kid. After supper, Jim went outside and cleaned the grill while Kevin helped Bernie clear away the table and load the dishwasher. When Jim finished up and headed back in, he paused for a couple of minutes at the closed door and watched his son with Bernie, the two of them talking and smiling and working side by side. An odd sensation hit Jim in the gut. A warm and familiar feeling, reminding him of his own childhood when he’d helped his mom in the kitchen.
Jim opened the door. “If you two are all squared away in here, Kevin and I had better head for home.”
“Ah, Dad, can’t we stay for a while longer?” Kevin gazed pleadingly at his father. “Bernie’s neighbor’s dog just had puppies, and she’s already called to see if we can go over and take a look at them tonight.”
“They’re Boston terriers,” Bernie said. “I’ve bought one of them from the Nolans. I thought maybe Kevin might like to take a look at my puppy and help me decide on a name for him.”
“Please, Dad.”
“Sure, why not.” Jim shrugged. He’d do just about anything to make Kevin happy, to keep his mind off of Mary Lee for a little while.
“Bernie said that Brenda and R.B. are going to babysit her puppy, so that means I’ll get to spend a lot of time with him, and Bernie said I could help her folks train him.”
Jim glanced at Bernie and they exchanged a brief moment of understanding without either of them saying a word. Kevin needed a distraction, something to keep him from worrying himself sick about his mother.
“The Nolans are expecting us, right?” Jim asked.
“Yes, they are.” Bernie placed her hand on Kevin’s shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. “Are you ready?”
Kevin glanced at Jim. “Are you going with us?”
“Yeah. Yeah, sure.”
“Chuck and Diane Nolan keep the mama and her babies in the laundry room.” Bernie led the way outside and across her backyard to the gate. “They said just come around to the backdoor and knock.”
Jim followed behind Bernie and Kevin as they entered her neighbor’s backyard. The sun had set nearly an hour ago, leaving behind a colorful twilight that was fading fast into darkness. Jim glanced down at his lighted digital watch. Eight-fifty-two.
“My puppy is the runt of the litter. His face is almost solid white,” Bernie said. “You’ll know him the minute you see him.”
“How old is he?” Kevin asked.
“Six weeks old.”
“That’s old enough for you to bring him home, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it is. And I’m getting him very soon. First, I’ll have to buy all the stuff he’ll need. Maybe your dad will let you go shopping with me tomorrow. The local Feed & Seed carries a whole line of supplies for dogs.”
Jim listened to Kevin and Bernie as they discussed the puppy, the supplies and how Bernie was counting on Kevin to help her folks with her new pet. Once again that strange notion of Bernie and Kevin reminding him of a mother and son came over Jim. It was then that Jim realized Bernadette Granger was a natural. Mothering was simply a part of her basic nature.
All Kevin talked about on the way home was Boomer, the name he had chosen for Bernie’s black and white puppy. Jim wondered why he’d never realized how much his son had always wanted a dog. Maybe because he’d been too damned busy fighting with Mary Lee. And he could admit now that all those arguments hadn’t been his ex-wife’s fault. There was more than enough blame to go around, even if he could never forgive her for cheating on him or for deliberately trying to drive a wedge between Kevin and him. For years after their divorce, he expected the worst from his ex-wife and somehow just couldn’t give her the benefit of the doubt.
As soon as they entered his duplex apartment, Jim sent Kevin off to the bathroom. “Go take a shower, brush your teeth and then hit the sack. You can sleep late tomorrow because I’m going to be working from home most of the day.” His plan was to speak to the lead detectives on the four, possibly five, murder cases in various southeastern states that were eerily similar to the two here in northeast Alabama. He could do that from home as easily as he could from his office.
Kevin paused before leaving the living room. “Don’t forget that Bernie’s picking me up at two tomorrow to go shopping for Boomer.”
“I won’t forget.” Jim grinned. “And if I did, you’d remind me.”
“Do you think I’ll get to talk to Mom tomorrow?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“I have my own cell phone, you know. Allen got one for me. She can call me even if I’m not here at your place or not over at the Grangers’ house.”
A twinge of parental jealousy zapped Jim and he instantly felt like a heel for resenting Allen’s ability to provide special things for Kevin that he couldn’t afford. But the truth of the matter was that he wasn’t sure he approved of a twelve-year-old having his own cell phone. “If Mary Lee doesn’t call tomorrow, she’ll call you soon.”
“Yeah, if not tomorrow, then Sunday for sure.”
No matter how many times his ex-wife had bad-mouthed him to his son, he would not say anything against Mary Lee to Kevin, especially not now. But he knew his ex-wife for the selfish bitch she had always been, even in the early days of their relationship. Back then he’d been too in love and in lust to see her for what she was. God, what a fool he’d been. The worst thing about it all was that Kevin had to pay the price for his mistake. Jim realized he should cut Mary Lee some slack because of what she was going through, but if this near-death experience didn’t alter her basic nature, then she would simply continue to put her needs above everyone else’s, including Kevin’s.