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We wandered onto the patio, then out to a pool deck, and I nudged his bicep with my shoulder. “Why did we stay at a house in Metarie, when we could have just stayed here? You’ve got a pool and a hot tub. What?”
He wrapped his arms around me. “You wanted Cafe DuMonde, woman. Can’t make that happen here.”
I slid my hands up his sculpted chest and rested them on his shoulders. “Fair.” My eyes skated past him and I saw the angular room jutting out from the backside of the house. “What is that? Do you have a sun room? I would think that’s where a bedroom would be or something.”
He glanced over his shoulder and frowned. “Yeah, that’s a big bedroom and it has a sun room.”
When I caught his eyes again, I asked, “Are you running drugs or something?”
“Not any more,” he said dryly.
My head turned a touch. “I was joking.”
“I’m not.”
I stepped out of his hold. “You… you bought this house with—”
His finger pressed lightly on my lips. “No. My mom was in an accident back when I was in my late twenties. She lost the use of her legs. We had to move to a house she could move around in, and the settlement money paid for this.”
“Oh dear. I’m sorry. Am I meeting your mom today?”
A sad smile crested his lips. “Sad to say it, but no. It would have been entertaining as fuck to hear what Mom would say to you. But she passed a couple years ago.”
I frowned. “I’m sorry she’s gone, Rob.”
He nodded. “Me too. My brother —biological brother— has been up in my shit to sell the place and give him half the fuckin’ money.”
My lips pressed together as I tried to keep my mind open and my temper on a simmer. “Did he help you care for her? I’m guessing you took care of her.”
“I did take care of her - except we had a nurse come in to help her with showers. She didn’t want me doing that. Too much pride. But to answer your first question, no. He didn’t help at all. No money, no offers to call Medicare when shit wasn’t getting covered. Nada.”
“Is he nuts?”
Block smiled big and beautiful. “Seems so, but no need to yell at me, baby. I assure you, I’ve reacted the same damn way.”
“Holy cow,” I muttered.
“So, that’s part of why it’s a lot of house for me. Mom lived here, and she wanted to have enough room so Peyton could bring his wife and kids to visit… and even stay if they wanted.”
I shook my head. “He didn’t want to do that?”
His lips bulged as his tongue moved around his teeth. “Not sure if it was all him or how much his wife played into it. She’s very religious. Didn’t approve of my lifestyle. In fact, she—”
I held up a hand. “Don’t you dare tell me she blamed you or your way of life or even your love of metal bands or some shit for the accident that got your mother injured. Don’t you do it.”
His lips quirked. “I won’t. But you hit it dead on - musical tastes and all.”
“Get the fuck out!”
“It’s cool, Heidi.”
“If it’s cool, then that’s a shack.” I tilted my head at the house. “Wait. Let me guess, they visited like once didn’t they? Got a glimpse of that stellar decor and got jealous too, am I right?”
His head wobbled. “Sort of, but Mom was an interior designer. She worked some after the accident, but not like she did prior.”
I shook my head and stalked away, following the path around the pool.
He followed me for a few steps before he grabbed my hand and yanked me to him. “Are you pissed? For real?”
My eyes widened. “Well, yeah. I mean, who the hell can’t help to take care of their queen-ager mom when she needs it?”
He choked on laughter. “What’d you call her?”
“Women after a certain age should be called queen-agers. It hasn’t caught on quite yet, but I’m doing my part, man.”
He laughed. “Yeah. To be fair, Heidi, it’s better that they didn’t help.”
I tried to wrest my hand away, but he held firm. “Since I wasn’t here, I’ll take your word for it, but logically, you can’t know that for sure.”
“Peyton’s wife, Mariah, believes Anne Murray sings the devil’s music. She is that kind of fundamentalist. Can you imagine the tight grip she’d have on shit in the house? No. It worked out that they weren’t here all the time. And, my hunch is that it’s Mariah behind the push for the money.”
“If it’s money behind this, I’m surprised they haven’t asked you to take out a home equity loan and give them that instead of selling.”
He stared at me for a long moment.
“You’re joking. They did that, too?”
“Yep.”
My eyes widened and he grinned, which stoked my anger. “What are you grinning about?”
“Mom would have fuckin’ loved you.”
“Oh, please. You gotta be a special kind of insensitive to not get riled about that sort of bullshit. And make no mistake, that is grade-A bullshit.”
He chuckled. “How can talking about this make my dick hard?”
“You are not for real! Show me your mother’s sunroom.”
His hand holding mine moved it so I had my hand on the small of his back. He wrapped his other arm around my waist. “Can’t do that. It’s my sunroom now, baby. Thought you wanted the full tour before seeing my king bed?”
“Yes, a full tour would be best. Lead the way.”
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