Lori Armstrong - Merciless

“Yeah, you’re a dick. You were a pompous prick to me even before I married Jake. You’ve had a bug up your ass about Mercy since we walked in. So go ahead and ban me, too. Your unci ain’t gonna be happy about this, cousin. ”

John-John’s face turned a darker shade of red. “Muskrat. Get them outta here.”

Muskrat was smart enough to obey John-John, and to know not to touch me when he escorted us to the door.

I was too pissed off to be drunk, so I snatched the keys.

She sighed. “I’m sorry, Mercy. I didn’t mean to screw that up for you.”

“You didn’t. I’ve been in there one time since I got back from Quantico. And it isn’t like my phone’s been ringing off the hook with calls from John-John to hang out.” Now that I thought about it, had John-John called me at all?

No.

And he had acted paranoid when he spoke of me working for the feds.

Screw him. I’d accepted him for who he was. He could return the favor.

“Well, there’s one thing we can check off our bucket list.” She gave me a sly look. “Getting kicked out of a bar together. Only next time? Let’s get really, really drunk first.”

“Deal.”

When the headlights from Dawson’s truck bounced up the driveway right after dusk Sunday night, my belly jumped as if I’d swallowed a live fish.

Humbling, being cowed by an eleven-year-old boy.

The dogs went crazy, and Dawson let loose a shrill whistle to quiet down the barking. Setting my beer on the counter, I grabbed the spare Carhartt jacket from the coat tree and ventured out onto the porch.

Shoonga and Butch had Lex pinned against the passenger door. I shot a look at Mason, unloading bags from the backseat of his deluxe club cab.

“Shoonga! Butch! Get over here.” The dogs raced up the steps, tails wagging, tongues lolling. “Sit.” Butch obeyed immediately. Shoonga jumped up on me. Damn dog needed obedience school. “Shoonga. Sit.” Whine, whine. I stood my ground. “Sit.” He dropped his rear onto the porch. Then he gave me the where’s-my-treat? look. Nice try, pooch. I patted him on the head with a “Good boy” and offered the same praise to Butch as I watched Mason struggling with the luggage while Lex gawked.

“Lex?” Mason said. “Wanna give me a hand here?”

“Oh. Sure.” He grabbed the biggest duffel and threw the strap over his shoulder, then he paused, waiting to follow his father up the stairs.

I cautioned the dogs to stay and held open the screen door.

Mason stopped, smiled, and kissed me before walking inside.

Lex was too busy eyeing the dogs as he passed by to pay attention to me.

They clomped upstairs, and the floor creaked as they entered Lex’s room. The acoustics in this house allowed me to hear, “This is your room. You can put your stuff away later.” The floorboards creaked as they moved down the hallway. “This is the bathroom you can use.”

“Where’s your room?” Lex asked.

“Downstairs. Come on, I’ll give you the tour.”

I rested my behind against a kitchen chair and waited for them to return.

Mason draped his arm over my shoulder and kissed my temple. “Mercy, meet my son, Lex. Lex, this is Mercy.”

I held out my hand. “Lex, it’s great to finally meet you. Welcome.”

“So this is your ranch?” he asked, taking my hand in a firm handshake. I didn’t answer right away, as I was too busy gaping at Mason’s mini-me.

Holy crap, did Lex look like his father. Same wavy hair-about twelve different shades of blond. Same vivid green eyes. Same wide-lipped mouth and stubborn chin. Lex’s size was where the comparison ended. Mason was a big guy, six feet three, broad across the shoulders and chest, whereas Lex was small and scrawny, all arms and legs.

“Yes, it’s my family ranch. My sister, Hope; her husband, Jake; and their baby, Joy, live in a trailer down the road. They come and go as they please, so you’ll meet them tomorrow.” I glanced at Mason, who couldn’t seem to take his eyes off his son. As if he couldn’t believe the boy was really here.

If I hadn’t loved him before, I would’ve fallen head over heels for him right then.

Which made me a total fucking sap.

“Come on, I’ll show you the rest of the place.” Mason looked at me. “Unless you want to do it?”

“No, you guys go ahead. I’ll get supper on the table.”

“What’re we havin’?”

“Roast. Mashed potatoes. Corn. Biscuits. Chocolate cake.” Yeah, maybe I’d gone to some trouble to make a decent meal. But not because I was trying to impress the kid, or anything.

Dawson kissed me. “Mmm. We’ll make it a quick tour.”

Didn’t take long to see the main floor. Then they donned coats and headed outside, much to the delight of the dogs. Just as I was filling my great-grandmother’s gravy boat, they returned, laughing, cheeks bright red from the icy air, eyes shining. When I said, “Wash up,” I was thrown back in time to when the kitchen was my mother’s domain and Dad and I would have just come in from the cold, anxious for Sunday night roast and The Wonderful World of Disney. Made me a little misty-eyed.

Jesus. When had my emotions turned me into a live Hallmark card?

Lex was a watchful kid during supper, taking his behavior cues from his father.

Neither Dawson nor I were the type to blather just to hear ourselves talk. We were comfortable with silence. If Lex expected more conversation at dinner, he didn’t mention it, nor did he ask a billion questions. The kid had a big appetite-two helpings of everything. Sophie would be in heaven.

After cleaning up the kitchen, I lingered in the doorway, seeing them engrossed in a Broncos game. I debated on retreating to the office and dinking around with my computer, but Dawson motioned me over to the couch. The instant I sat, he pulled me close. “I know how much you hate watching football, but hang out with us for a bit, ’kay?”

“Wake me up if I start to snore.”

He pecked me on the mouth and smooched my forehead before he switched his focus back to the game. He didn’t care that Lex was covertly studying us.

Since Mason had moved in and we’d gone public with our relationship, he didn’t hide his affection for me. Now that I knew how much his affectionate side was an innate part of his makeup, I also understood how hard it’d been for him to keep it under wraps during our clandestine phase. Still, this constant touchy-feely, kissy-face stuff took some getting used to.

I dozed. The next thing I knew, Dawson poked my shoulder. “Hey, sleepyhead, go to bed. I’ll be there in a sec. I’m headed upstairs to make sure Lex is all right before he hits the hay.”

I squinted at the dark living room with the flickering TV lights. Shadows danced across my vision. This was the worst possible light condition for my eye injury. I squeezed my eyes shut, reopened them, hoping-like always-that my vision would clear. But it remained murky.

In the bedroom I stripped to a camisole and underwear and slipped between the sheets. Dawson spooned me just as I’d hit the peaceful state right before sleep overtakes all conscious cognitive thoughts. But the tension rolling off him kicked me back to full alert. “What’s up?”

“I missed you last night.” His rough-skinned hand skated up my arm from my wrist to the curve of my bicep.

“Okay. But spending one night apart when I was away for months isn’t what’s bugging you. Wanna talk about it?”

“I don’t even know where the hell to start.” He sighed. “I knew Mona had moved again. But I hadn’t known it was to an even seedier area, if that’s possible. When I asked her about it, she immediately got surly with me. Lex tried to smooth things over, but Mona didn’t like Lex sticking up for me. She called him all kinds of names, then pointed at his bags and told him to get out.”