Midnight Sommelier - Anne Malcom Page 0,17

boys trying to prove their manhood, though Ryder was more than capable of taking care of himself if there was someone brave enough to try to actually give him shit for being gay. My son took after his father, was tall, broad-shouldered, and had natural muscles he built up with gym sessions.

He was also a trained boxer, something he and David had done together for years.

A knock at the door jerked me away from thoughts of all the things Jax would never have. He wouldn’t get anything more from his father apart from his love of classic movies. He might even grow up to forget his father, retaining only blurry memories attached to pain.

I thought about ignoring the knock at the door. It could very well be my mother-in-law, and there was no way I was up to dealing with that. It was unfortunate that David’s death didn’t mean I never had to see her again, but she loved her grandchildren with however much love a demon from the depths of hell could muster.

It was unlikely to be her since she usually called a day in advance to ensure I was “fit to entertain.” In that case, she meant sober and groomed and willing to bite my tongue through all of her barbs. The past two times I had not been any of those things, though I didn’t call her the life-sucking monster cunt like I wanted; instead, I think I might’ve just politely asked her to fuck off. Things were frosty now.

So it wasn’t likely to be Josephine.

And while I had stopped answering the door after the casserole incident, I was meant to be turning over a new leaf and not hiding from people.

I glanced at the clock—it was almost four. That was a socially appropriate time to pour a glass of wine. I would likely need it after dealing with whichever busybody was knocking at my door. It certainly wasn’t Martin—I was glad to know I’d made an enemy out of him.

What I wasn’t expecting was a fresh-faced, stylishly-dressed, young teenager beaming at me.

“Hi!” she chirped.

Chirped.

Her long blonde curls tumbled down her back, a color that I paid hairdressers hundreds of dollars to try and replicate.

Freckles were spread across her nose, accentuating her beautifully clear skin.

“We’re your new neighbors,” she said when I didn’t reply to her greeting. “My dad and I,” she continued, pointing a red-tipped nail toward the house next to ours. We lived in a highly sought after gated community, with each of the houses on considerable amounts of land. Our yard was full of green grass and flowers, and the one next door was much the same, though they had gone for a more traditional look with structured hedges, and ours was slightly more rustic.

“Oh my god, I love your shoes,” she said, looking down. “Are those this season’s Balenciagas? Because I am willing to sell you my relatively pure, young soul for them.” I blinked at her. At her tone. At her infectious happiness. I should’ve hated her on principle. I’d made it a rule to hate happy people. To scowl at them if they dared smile at me. That should be doubly true of a teenager with clear skin and some really fricking good genes.

But I didn’t.

Disbelievingly, I found myself smiling back at her. “Unfortunately, even a relatively pure, young soul isn’t enough to make me part with these. If you wear a seven and agree to tell me where you got that jacket, we might be able to work out a loan system.” I was shocked at how normal sounding my voice was.

She grinned wider. “It’s fate. I’m Luna. Luna Carson.”

“What a wonderful name,” I said honestly. It suited her. “I’m Bridget Langmore.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied, and somehow I meant it.

Both of our heads turned at the slamming of car doors. Ryder had arrived home in David’s SUV, and Jake, his boyfriend was getting out of the passenger seat and ruffling Jax’s hair.

My son had great taste. Jake was tall, of South Asian descent, a total punk rock kid, and a genuinely nice and badass teenager. I secretly hoped they’d stay together forever, though I knew that teenage romances were likely to end.

“This is my son Ryder, my other son Jax, and Ryder’s boyfriend Jake,” I said as they approached. “Boys, this is your new neighbor, Luna.”

Luna’s eyes lit up. “First of all, little dude, love the Fedora. You work it,” she said to Jax, winking at him.