The Second Time Around by Mary Beesley

Author:Mary Beesley [Beesley, Mary]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Montlake
Published: 2023-10-30T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 22

SMITH

A baby’s cry sounded. To Smith’s right, Mona stood. She excused herself, pressing into his side as she rose from the table. She flounced down the hall.

“This meal is fantastic,” Dad said. His gaze flicked to the wine bottle on the kitchen counter again.

Dad wasn’t a big drinker—not like Stevie, apparently. Smith felt awful for Claire. And her daughters. He wanted to know everything. He wanted to fix all the hurts. And he clearly cared way too much for her. She looked beautiful tonight. Those jeans. Yeah. He was looking. But her shoulders were rigid. Too bad he couldn’t sit her in his lap on the couch while they watched TV together and he rubbed out her tension. Shit, where were these thoughts coming from? Those were deep-in-the-relationship moves.

He wanted to take care of her.

Dad looked at Mona’s nearly full glass of his wine. And Smith almost handed it over to him. It was Dad’s favorite vintage. At four hundred dollars a bottle, he didn’t give that to just anyone.

Dad really liked Claire.

Smith didn’t blame him. Claire would be quite the catch for the widowered man, but she wasn’t the right woman for Dad. It wasn’t solely because Smith revolted against the thought of his father touching her. Claire was laid back and quirky in a way that didn’t suit his dad. She deserved a man who wanted to cherish her, tend to her with devotion, lift her up. That man wasn’t his dad. But mostly, she could never become his stepmother.

He should burn the drawings of her when he returned home.

He wouldn’t.

Mona came back with a baby in one arm and a high chair in the other. She maneuvered her chair toward Smith to make room. When she sat, they were thigh to thigh. Smith tried to give her more room, but his scooching ran him into Claire on the other side. With Mona’s hip touching his, and his knee pressed into Claire’s thigh, he stopped trying. That about summed up dinner.

“Would you pass me the mashed potatoes?” Mona asked.

He did, and Mona splatted a scoop in front of a bleary-eyed baby.

“Sorry Mom doesn’t have cable,” Edith said. “You boys are missing the football.”

She looked so young. With her big gray eyes and silky curls, she might one day be nearly as beautiful as her mother, but she was years away from growing out of her baby face. He scanned the table. All these daughters seemed so young. Flighty and deep in the self-discovery stage. A world away from where he was in his life now. He remembered college—albeit not that well at this point. It was long ago.

He was old. He wanted a stable woman to share his life with. To give himself to. When would he find the right fit? He tried not to look at Claire.

“Basketball is more my thing,” Dad said.

“And I’m big into Netflix.” Indi toyed with the stack of necklaces at her throat.

Edith waved her fork in the air. “Aren’t we all?”

“Its stock price would indicate so.

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