A California Christmas (Silver Springs #7) - Brenda Novak Page 0,43

pulled over and she was able to get back into her seat and put on her seat belt. “What happened?”

His teeth flashed as he grinned. “Tommy has moved in with Thiago, but Ethan gave me his phone number.”

“No way!”

“It’s true.” He handed her his phone with the contact information on the screen.

She smiled when she saw it, then settled back as he pulled from the curb and merged into traffic. “You two looked like old friends. What’d you say to him?”

“I made a big deal about recognizing him on TV, told him how attractive he was and said if he ever wondered what it was like to be with a man, I’d be interested in helping him explore.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me!” she said with a surprised laugh. “You hit on him? And he believed you were sincerely interested?”

“All it took was a little flattery.”

“Knowing how vain Ethan is, I shouldn’t be surprised. But...how’d you bring up Tommy?”

“I asked if he was home.”

“And Ethan gave you his number?”

“Not quite that easily. First I made up some bullshit about having met Tommy at a bar—and hinted that he took me home.”

Her jaw dropped. “You didn’t...”

“I had to have some reason for knowing where he lived.”

“Since they live together, that was a risk.” She couldn’t help admiring his nerve.

“I was assuming they have completely different circles and rarely even saw each other.”

“Fortunately, that would be true.”

“It helped that I knew Thiago’s name. And that he and Tommy went through a rough patch a few weeks ago. Ethan assumed that was when I met Tommy, and I played along.”

“Wow. I had no idea you were so devious,” she joked, unable to quit smiling.

He arched a remonstrative eyebrow at her. “I prefer to think of it as clever,” he said. “Anyway, it worked out. You now have the ability to contact Tommy and, hopefully, counter all the lies Ethan has been spreading.” He slung his arm over the steering wheel, looking casually in charge as he glanced over at her. “I’d call that a good day’s work,” he said proudly. “So I’m ready to take you up on that dinner invitation.”

“Sounds good to me. Now that the stress is off, I’m starving.”

“You used to live in this city. Where should we go?”

“Beer & Salsa in Burbank. There’s always a wait, but you’ll never eat better shrimp fajitas.”

“Done,” he said, and followed her directions to the restaurant. They’d been together so much the past few days and were so happy in this moment it felt perfectly natural to be holding hands as they walked in.

* * *

“What are you doing up?” Eli asked.

Aiyana clicked away from her word processing program, where she’d been proofing some grant requests, and switched her phone to her other ear as she yawned. “You don’t live here anymore. How do you know I’m up?”

“I’m still on the same campus and can see that the light’s on in your bedroom.”

“Only if you’re looking for it.”

“I always check on you,” he admitted.

She smiled at his protectiveness. She was a lucky woman to have the happiness—and the people in her life—she had now. She’d never dreamed so many of her children would be able to overcome the tremendous odds that had been stacked against them, or that she’d end up with someone like Cal. Rarely did she feel worthy, which was why she’d waited so long to marry him. She was expecting life to get difficult again; it seemed it always did. But she’d been with Cal long enough that she was beginning to trust him and the bond they shared, which was why, she supposed, she’d finally given in on the matter of marriage. “I don’t know,” she admitted. “Can’t sleep. What are you doing up?”

“Little Xander’s teething.”

At the mention of her newest grandson, only six months old, Aiyana felt some of the tension that had been troubling her tonight ease. She’d loved being a mother, but she’d taken on an incredibly difficult family—adopting eight boys who were victims of severe emotional, and sometimes even physical, trauma. Trying to help them heal and make sense of the world had required constant effort and a great deal of perseverance.

But being a grandmother wasn’t like that at all. Thanks to the men her sons had become—at least the older ones who were in that stage of life—and the women they’d married, they were providing a solid foundation for the next generation. She was excited to think she wouldn’t have to worry about her