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Shooting the Moon. Brenda NovakЧитать онлайн книгу.

Shooting the Moon - Brenda  Novak


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way. I don’t believe you’ve changed that much.”

      Harley couldn’t help laughing. Tank was right, up to a point. He missed having a robust sex life, but he craved having someone who was emotionally significant to him far more. The older he got, the more convinced he became that life wasn’t just about financial success or physical gratification. But he’d left his heart in Portland with an unborn baby when he moved to California ten years ago, and even though he’d had a few superficial relationships since then, no one had ever been able to fill the void. “Maybe your brother knows another female paralegal he can set me up with,” he joked.

      “I’ll ask him,” Tank promised. “Just be forewarned. If he sets you up with anyone like Rhonda, she’ll be pudgy, pasty, too bold and emotionally starved.”

      “God, Tank, I thought you liked her!”

      “I do. I’m desperate, so the relationship works for me. But that’s hardly the kind of woman I see you with.” He gave up hanging on the lintel and started down the hall, the floor creaking in protest. “Gotta run. The whole crew’ll be waiting for me. Are you comin’ back tonight?”

      “Yeah. That okay?” Harley called after him.

      “Sure. Stay as long as you like.” The creaking stopped as Tank paused in the hall. “What are you gonna do before your dinner with Lauren and Brandon? You want to make a few extra bucks and come out on the job with me?”

      “No, thanks. I’m going to get my hair cut and buy some new clothes.”

      “What’s wrong with the haircut and clothes you got now?”

      “Nothing. I just need to look…I don’t know, more fatherly, I guess.”

      There was a pause and for a moment, Harley thought Tank had disappeared silently into his room. But then he spoke. “Can I give you a piece of advice, Harley?”

      Advice? From Tank? “Shoot.”

      “Clothes and hair don’t matter to kids, man. Just be yourself.”

      The floor started creaking again, a door closed and the shower went on.

      Harley laced his fingers behind his head and rolled onto his back to stare at the ceiling. Just be yourself. Sounded easy. Made sense. But his “self” hadn’t been good enough for Audra, and he was afraid he’d run into the same problem again, this time with Brandon. Especially if Quentin Worthington had poisoned his son against him.

      He doesn’t need you.

      “Maybe not,” Harley conceded, “but I need him.”

      CHAPTER FIVE

      LAUREN GLANCED nervously at her wristwatch. It was already late afternoon and she still hadn’t tried to contact Harley. She should have called him hours ago, first thing in the morning. Instead she’d procrastinated and was continuing to put off the inevitable by playing a game of Hearts with Brandon and his best friend, Scott, both of whom she’d just picked up from Mt. Marley Academy for Boys and Girls.

      “What happened today at school, guys?” she asked, tossing a five of clubs on top of Brandon’s ace of spades.

      “You can’t throw that,” her nephew protested. “I led with a spade so you have to throw a spade.”

      “Only if I have one,” she told him. “I’m out, so I can play any suit I want, remember?” She raised an eyebrow at him. “You’re lucky I didn’t give you any point cards. That ace is going to beat anything we throw, which means you’re probably going to get stuck with the queen of spades. Unless you’re holding it yourself, of course.”

      Brandon said nothing. He kept his attention on his cards, his brow wrinkling in concentration.

      “I asked you two about school,” she said as Scott laid down the dreaded queen of spades. She watched her nephew’s face for any sign of displeasure that he’d just picked up another thirteen points, but saw none. Was he trying to shoot the moon? Gathering all point cards in the deck—every heart and the queen of spades—at the risk of missing one or more wasn’t an easy thing to do, even with a good hand. If he succeeded, however, he’d set her and Scott back twenty-six points and win the game.

      “School was okay, I guess,” Brandon murmured, finally answering her question, but his eyes were still riveted to the fan of cards in his hand.

      “What did you do at recess?” she asked.

      Brandon led with the queen of hearts—almost a sure sign that he was trying to shoot the moon. But considering what Lauren held in her hand, he didn’t have enough high cards to take the rest of the tricks. She considered playing the ace of hearts and letting him learn the hard way, then gave him something smaller to see if he could pull it off without an adult and veteran player working against him.

      “Mallory and Sarah chase us every recess,” Scott complained. “They won’t leave us alone.” He tossed Brandon a jack of hearts and a taunting smile. “You just took another heart, Brandon. You’re gonna lose big! What do you have so far, twenty points?”

      If Brandon had twenty points already, he only needed to collect another six to shoot the moon. Lauren suspected Scott didn’t understand the game nearly as well as he said he did. Otherwise he would’ve realized that throwing such a high heart at this stage wasn’t wise. “Those girls have liked you guys all year,” she said, keeping the conversation on a neutral topic so she wouldn’t give her nephew away.

      Brandon chose to play an eight of clubs, which was probably a mistake. Lauren’s last card of that suit was the ten, and all the face cards were out. She’d have to take the pile and any hearts Scott tossed into it, which meant Brandon wouldn’t be able to capture all the points.

      Sure enough, when his friend piled a heart on top of her ten, Brandon groaned. “Oh, man. I was so close. Look at this.” He fanned out the cards he’d already taken. “I’ve got the queen of spades and nine of the thirteen hearts. I was only missing four.”

      “You did great, babe,” Lauren told him. “It’s tough to shoot the moon. You have to be holding a lot of good cards and play them just right.”

      “And if you don’t make it, you’re in major trouble,” Scott pointed out.

      Brandon scowled at him. “But if you do make it, you’re the bomb. I would’ve won for sure.”

      “You’ll have other chances,” Lauren promised.

      “Does that mean we can play another game?” he asked.

      “Not now. Scott’s mother is expecting him at home, you have to do your homework, and I have to start dinner.”

      “Aw, can’t we go out for dinner tonight?”

      “No, I’ve already defrosted a couple of steaks. I thought we could grill them outside on the patio.” She’d also made homemade rolls, scalloped potatoes, a candied almond salad and Brandon’s favorite dessert—cheesecake. Keeping herself busy with domestic tasks had helped her avoid thinking about Harley Nelson. But the time for his arrival was fast approaching and she couldn’t put off dealing with the situation any longer.

      “Why don’t you go ahead and walk Scott across the street while I start the barbecue?” she said.

      Taking her suggestion, Brandon followed his friend to the front of the house. As soon as Lauren heard the door slam, she took Harley’s card from her pocket, wiped sweaty palms on her blue jeans and dialed his number.

      I’m only doing what’s best, she told herself. But if that was true, why did she feel so terrible about it?

      Someone answered, but it wasn’t Harley. It was a woman.

      Lauren drew a bolstering breath. He’s no good. He probably goes from one relationship to another, breaking hearts along the way, and this is just the next person in line. “Is Harley Nelson there?”

      “I’m


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