Feliz Naughty Dog - Roxanne St. Claire Page 0,18
Lucas shook his head. “I really need some help with him.”
“I think my dad could help you. Or my uncle Shane.”
His laughter faded a little bit. “Thanks.”
“Hey, that was my fault for taking my eye off the ball.”
He put a hand on hers, his palm so big and warm she almost gasped out loud. “Are you okay? You fell.”
“Not my most graceful moment.”
“But you…” He gave her hand a squeeze. “You were awesome.”
She stared at him for a moment, blinking, her mind blank except for one single thought.
Don’t make me like you. Don’t make me like you. Don’t make me like you.
Still holding her hand, he stood, bringing her with him. “We better go find those grannies before they get into more trouble than Tor.”
Oh snap. Too late. She liked him.
Chapter Six
“Are you hungry?” Finnie asked as she and Agnes slipped into plastic chairs at a table that gave them a direct view of Santa. He had two babies on his lap, one screaming, the other pulling his beard, while parents snapped photos. “There’s a Greek place right there.”
Agnes gave her an are you serious? look, then wrapped Pyggie and Gala’s leashes around the leg of a chair at the next table, which was empty, but the slobs who’d sat there had left all their plates and plastic cups. Pyggie sniffed at the remnants, but knew well enough to settle on the cool tile floor under a chair at that table, so Agnes hooked her pocketbook on the empty chair above him.
“I know, I know.” Finnie lifted the plastic lid to drop a tea bag in the wildly overpriced hot water from Starbucks. “‘It’s not Greek food if it’s cooked by a pimply-faced teenage boy who doesn’t know souvlaki from tzatziki.’” She somehow managed to lose the brogue when she imitated Agnes, but couldn’t deliver a line with snark to save her sweet life. “Why are you putting your bag on that chair?”
“In the off chance it gets bussed, I don’t want anyone sitting there.”
“The dogs can be under our table. ’Tis quite crowded in here, and there aren’t many empty tables.”
“If someone sits there, it’ll block my view of Aldo,” she admitted. “And I still want to see what he’s doing.”
“Aye. Wouldn’t want to miss his next hit job…on a blonde.” Finnie grinned. “See what I did there?”
Agnes leaned in. “You judged,” she said through gritted teeth. “The very thing you’ve been trying to drum out of me since the day we met.”
Finnie’s little shoulders dropped. “Aye, true.”
“You think he’s some kind of criminal because he has an Italian last name.”
“No! I’m telling you my husband knew the man—or knew of him. He was part of a hunting club that Seamus belonged to years ago, and word was…he knew his way around the guns. Maybe a little too well, if you catch my drift.”
“It was a hunting lodge.” She rolled her eyes.
“But, oh, the ladies. Rumor was he had a different one every season.”
“He told me he’s been widowed for more than forty years. Can you blame the man for dating?”
“Dating women young enough to be his granddaughter?” Finnie tipped her head in the direction of Santa’s Workshop. “Ye heard him with that lassie.”
“I heard more than you did.” And had seen the phone number exchange. “But I might have misunderstood. We can’t assume he’s all things bad until I get to know him. But I admit, it didn’t look good.” She let out a deep sigh. “I’m wasting my time, aren’t I? There’s no match for the matchmakers.”
Finnie notched her chin. “Don’t let yer coffee grow cold, lass.” Then she put her hand over Agnes’s, the soft, parchmentlike skin of her palm always a comfort. “Or yer heart. If it’s love you want, then we’ll find it for you.”
“I don’t expect anything like what we’ve managed to find for our grandchildren. Just a bit of the…magic. You know…the feeling? The roller coaster. The thrill.”
“There’s always Max Hewitt,” Finnie said brightly. “He’s keen on you, you know.”
“I know, and he’s a nice man, but…” Agnes closed her eyes. “You can’t manufacture magic, and he’s not…” Intoxicating. “I’ve always had a weakness for a man with a little spice and sizzle.”
“Agnes. We’re closer to ninety than nineteen. Leave the spice and sizzle for Pru.” She turned and looked into the crowd, then reached into her pocketbook to glance at her cell phone. “Where are those two, anyway? I hope that lad didn’t have a wee bit too much sizzle, if