all. “I didn’t pay a lot of attention.”
“Yes, ya did.”
“Did not.”
“You did, too. Mona told me you did. I called to see if you needed any help over there. Mona said you were in the bathroom wooing her daughter. She said it looked like you two were doing just fine.”
He heard the teasing laughter in his dad’s voice. It made him grind his teeth. “Is nothing sacred in this village?”
“Nope. Not with the bunch of gossips we got runnin’ around here. ’Sides, what’s the big deal? You like Mona’s girl. I think it’s good that you finally like someone. ”
Someone. Yeah. He noted the innuendo in Garner’s tone. The innuendo that once had a stern sentiment attached to it. “ It’s time to get on with the business of living, son ,” were the words his dad had muttered over and over for two years. Campbell had resented those words—words everyone said when they didn’t know how else to help you get past your grief. Meaningless and empty, but meant to comfort.
Today, in the here and now, his outlook was different, less resentful, and far more open to the possibility of the business of living.
Because he’d been reunited with Max Henderson. That’s who she’d always be in his mind—no matter how many rich, almost ex-husbands she collected. Outwardly, she was still as hot as she’d been in high school. She just didn’t see it quite the way he did. She was also a neurotic mess waiting to happen.
It was fantastic. Intriguing. Multilayered.
He liked.
For the first time in a very long time, Campbell found he had more than just a passing interest in the opposite sex. Unfortunately, Max was far from interested in anyone who had dangly bits at this point in her life. He completely understood why after his run-in with her snarling, seething, holier-than-thou husband. She virtually cringed at the idea of any kind of confrontation with him, leaving Campbell pissed off for her and beating his chest like some new age Neanderthal.
What a screwed up emotion to have on her behalf so early on in the mating game.
That’s what this is , he silently acknowledged. A mating game.
One he planned to win.
Especially after that kiss. Brief, alluring, sweet, shy.
Hot.
“You’re awful quiet in there, bucko,” Garner taunted from the dinette. “So you like Mona’s daughter. Whaddya gonna do about it?”
Dumping the broccoli and carrots into a bowl, Campbell fished in the fridge for some lettuce. “She’s a mess, Dad.”
“Who isn’t? Doesn’t that Dr. Phil say everyone’s got baggage? You know what being a mess is all about. Maybe you can be double the mess together.”
The grin he couldn’t prevent spread across his lips. “I mean that she’s not divorced yet. She needs time to heal, figure out what she’s going to do with the second half of her life. I’m thinkin’ she’s not ready for a relationship.”
“I hear tell she wants to be divorced, but that husband of hers, the girls call him Penis-less, is bein’ a real jackass about it. Took all of his fancy money and left her and the boy with nothin’.”
Pulling a measuring cup from a drawer, he slammed it shut with his hip, incredibly angry once more. Gripping the handle of the cup, he took hold of his irrational reaction and set about measuring the exact amount of salad dressing his father was allotted. “What the girls say is true. As a matter of fact, I met her husband purely by chance today, and he’s definitely jackass material. She’s scared spitless of him.”
His father was silent for a moment. “You don’t think he raised his hand to her, do ya? Son of a bitch oughta have his Twinkies hack-sawed off.”
Campbell figured that statement deserved a moment’s thought. Max had been afraid to speak up—she’d shrunk right before his eyes. At the first hint of discord, she’d been right in there with whatever it took to cool things off. It had left him wanting to coach her in the art of giving someone hell, and angry.
“Yes, ya did.”
“Did not.”
“You did, too. Mona told me you did. I called to see if you needed any help over there. Mona said you were in the bathroom wooing her daughter. She said it looked like you two were doing just fine.”
He heard the teasing laughter in his dad’s voice. It made him grind his teeth. “Is nothing sacred in this village?”
“Nope. Not with the bunch of gossips we got runnin’ around here. ’Sides, what’s the big deal? You like Mona’s girl. I think it’s good that you finally like someone. ”
Someone. Yeah. He noted the innuendo in Garner’s tone. The innuendo that once had a stern sentiment attached to it. “ It’s time to get on with the business of living, son ,” were the words his dad had muttered over and over for two years. Campbell had resented those words—words everyone said when they didn’t know how else to help you get past your grief. Meaningless and empty, but meant to comfort.
Today, in the here and now, his outlook was different, less resentful, and far more open to the possibility of the business of living.
Because he’d been reunited with Max Henderson. That’s who she’d always be in his mind—no matter how many rich, almost ex-husbands she collected. Outwardly, she was still as hot as she’d been in high school. She just didn’t see it quite the way he did. She was also a neurotic mess waiting to happen.
It was fantastic. Intriguing. Multilayered.
He liked.
For the first time in a very long time, Campbell found he had more than just a passing interest in the opposite sex. Unfortunately, Max was far from interested in anyone who had dangly bits at this point in her life. He completely understood why after his run-in with her snarling, seething, holier-than-thou husband. She virtually cringed at the idea of any kind of confrontation with him, leaving Campbell pissed off for her and beating his chest like some new age Neanderthal.
What a screwed up emotion to have on her behalf so early on in the mating game.
That’s what this is , he silently acknowledged. A mating game.
One he planned to win.
Especially after that kiss. Brief, alluring, sweet, shy.
Hot.
“You’re awful quiet in there, bucko,” Garner taunted from the dinette. “So you like Mona’s daughter. Whaddya gonna do about it?”
Dumping the broccoli and carrots into a bowl, Campbell fished in the fridge for some lettuce. “She’s a mess, Dad.”
“Who isn’t? Doesn’t that Dr. Phil say everyone’s got baggage? You know what being a mess is all about. Maybe you can be double the mess together.”
The grin he couldn’t prevent spread across his lips. “I mean that she’s not divorced yet. She needs time to heal, figure out what she’s going to do with the second half of her life. I’m thinkin’ she’s not ready for a relationship.”
“I hear tell she wants to be divorced, but that husband of hers, the girls call him Penis-less, is bein’ a real jackass about it. Took all of his fancy money and left her and the boy with nothin’.”
Pulling a measuring cup from a drawer, he slammed it shut with his hip, incredibly angry once more. Gripping the handle of the cup, he took hold of his irrational reaction and set about measuring the exact amount of salad dressing his father was allotted. “What the girls say is true. As a matter of fact, I met her husband purely by chance today, and he’s definitely jackass material. She’s scared spitless of him.”
His father was silent for a moment. “You don’t think he raised his hand to her, do ya? Son of a bitch oughta have his Twinkies hack-sawed off.”
Campbell figured that statement deserved a moment’s thought. Max had been afraid to speak up—she’d shrunk right before his eyes. At the first hint of discord, she’d been right in there with whatever it took to cool things off. It had left him wanting to coach her in the art of giving someone hell, and angry.
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