Suddenly a Bride / A Bride After All: Suddenly a Bride. Кейси Майклс

one could almost be altruistic if you didn’t look at it too hard, and—no, I have not been drinking. You know I don’t drink. Just listen, okay?”

      Her cousin’s answer was short and to the point.

      “Okay, so court convenes again in two minutes and we all know the legal world can’t go on without you, except that it’s going to, once your suspension kicks in. I’ll talk fast, you listen faster. I’ve got twins, boys, seven years old. They need a youth baseball team.”

      She pulled the phone from her ear for a few moments while Will gave his opinion of youth baseball teams.

      “Right, gotcha. A sin and a shame and a totally over-the-top reaction to your, I’m sure, perfectly calm and reasonable arguments to the judge. No, you’re never snarky, especially in court.” She laughed. “Yes, now I’m being snarky. But my heart goes out to you, it really does. Will you take them? Good. First practice tomorrow morning at nine, got it. Yeah, I know the field. They’ll be there. Now, for the second idea. Their mother is a widow, and she needs some fun.”

      This time she rolled her eyes as she held the phone away from her ear for a few more moments.

      “No, she does not bark. No, she does not have a tail. Although the same can’t be said for the last blind date you threw at me, buddy boy, so cut that out. You owe me one. You even said so, and I’m collecting, all right? And she’s gorgeous, Will, she really is, but maybe a little sad, a little confused.”

      Chessie sighed as Will tried yet again to hang up on her. “Yes, yes, court awaits. No, I don’t want you to be held in contempt again. And no, she’s not a head case. I said confused, not certifiable. That would be the guy you set me up with at your secretary’s wedding reception, remember? Look, I’m not asking you to marry the woman, sport. I just want you to pay her a little attention, that’s all. Maybe take her to dinner a couple of times.

      “Why? Because she doesn’t believe in romance anymore, that’s why. I think she’s afraid of it, I don’t think she thinks she deserves it and I think she’s going to make a big mistake if someone doesn’t remind her that her hormones are just resting, not gone. Can you do that? Pay her some attention? Nothing heavy, just flirt a little?”

      She heard the bell over the front door of the shop ring to announce another customer. Still holding on to the phone, she began making her way to the reception area as Will pressed her to be more specific in her instructions.

      “You want me to tell you how to be charming? Just for God’s sake, don’t take her to bed. I only want you to wake her up a little, you handsome bastard, you,” she ended, suddenly realizing there might be a problem if her plan worked too well. “I mean it, Will. Shake her up a bit so she remembers she’s not just a mom, but that she’s still young and desirable, and then back off, the way you always do. Nicely! And then we’re even, honest. Well, as long as you don’t try to throw any more blind dates my way. Agreed?”

      She smiled at his answer. “Oh, you egotistical pig—I knew I could count on you.”

      Chapter Two

      Elizabeth pulled her small SUV into a parking space between a battered family van and a shiny black Mercedes-Benz and cut the engine. They were here. At the ball grounds … ball fields … something like that. And twenty minutes late, thanks to a wrong turn off the highway.

      “I think that’s your team down there,” she said, pointing straight ahead at the windshield. “Ready?”

      The silence from the backseat was deafening.

      “I said,” she repeated, unsnapping her seat belt and turning around, “are you ready?”

      Mikey took one hand off the handheld game he was playing and held it up, his index finger extended. “Soon as I beat this level, Mom, okay?”

      “You’ll never beat that level. You always end up zapped,” his brother said. “You die like a dog, every time.”

      Elizabeth reached back and grabbed the game. “Die? Who said you could play games where people die?”

      “Oh, Mom,” Mikey whined as the game made a sound much like a dying whistle, followed by a splat. “Now you did it. And nobody dies, doofus, so why did you say that? The game is rated E, for everyone, just like it says on the box.”

      Elizabeth looked at the screen and saw an exasperated-looking duck walking out of a pond on large webbed feet, shaking its feathers and glaring at her accusingly. “I’m sorry, Mikey,” she said, handing the game back to him. “Um … better duck next time?”

      “Good one, Mom,” Danny told her. “Can we go home now?”

      It had been a fight all morning. First to get them both up, then to get them to throw on shorts and tops and tie their sneakers—after they’d found their sneakers. Danny’s left one had been in the freezer and, no, she didn’t ask who had done that, because she already knew. They couldn’t decide what they wanted to eat, they needed to brush their teeth—as if either of them ever did that without first being threatened.

      Elizabeth got out of the car and opened the rear side door, motioning to the boys to hurry up. “Today, people. Anyone would think you two don’t want to play baseball.”

      “We don’t,” Danny said, grinning at her, his smile minus his top two front teeth. “But Richard said we should humor you.”

      “Oh, he did, did he? Do either of you know what that means? That you should humor me?”

      Mikey at last undid his seat belt and slid down off the safety booster seat, Elizabeth holding on to his arm as he jumped to the ground. “Not me. I only know that Richard said it’s easier to humor women than it is to fight them. Unless you wanted us to eat spinach or something.”

      Elizabeth’s annoyance melted like spring snow under the warm, gap-toothed smiles of her sons. Boys could get away with murder, just with their smiles. Including boys who were well into their forties. It was simply impossible to stay angry with any of them.

      She made shooing motions with her hands, aiming both boys toward the grassy incline that led down to the small ball field … ball court … whatever.

      As she followed them, Elizabeth quickly realized she had already made at least two mistakes, and the boys weren’t even officially signed up yet. One, they were the only children wearing shorts, and two, they were the only children not carrying gloves. No, mitts. She remembered that word from Jamie. They were called baseball mitts.

      Danny and Mikey stopped a good distance from the other children and turned to look at her, their identical big blue eyes that were so much like their father’s gazing at her in mute appeal.

      “Okay, okay, I’m coming,” she said, stepping between them and taking their hands. “Let’s look for Mr. Hollingswood, all right? Chessie told him we’d be here.”

      She walked closer, careful to stay to the left of the long white chalk line that seemed to mark the beginning of the playing area, heading toward a low wooden bench and three men who were watching as the children threw balls at each other. Elizabeth would have thought that they were playing catch, except it didn’t seem that anyone was actually catching anything. There was just a lot of throwing and then chasing after the ball going on, except for the trio of boys who were huddled together, examining a worm one of them was holding.

      Chessie had said her cousin was a hunk; that was how she’d described him. Elizabeth thought that wouldn’t be much of a help until she got closer to the three men. Then it got very easy to pick him out.

      He was taller than the other two men wearing matching bright blue T-shirts with the word Eagles stitched on the back at shoulder level. He had none of the softness around the gut the others had. He was wearing classy tan Bermuda shorts as opposed to their baggy jeans, and he had his baseball cap on backward, the coal-black hair beneath it looking mussed in the way only great hair can.

      Besides,