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  Copyright © 2014 by Marie Harte

  Cover and internal design © 2014 by Sourcebooks, Inc.

  Cover design by Dawn Adams

  Cover image by Claudio Marinesco

  Sourcebooks and the colophon are registered trademarks of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means including information storage and retrieval systems—except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles or reviews—without permission in writing from its publisher, Sourcebooks, Inc.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious or are used fictitiously. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Sourcebooks Casablanca, an imprint of Sourcebooks, Inc.

  P.O. Box 4410, Naperville, Illinois 60567-4410

  (630) 961-3900

  Fax: (630) 961-2168

  www.sourcebooks.com

  Contents

  Front Cover

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  An excerpt from The Troublemaker Next Door

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  Back Cover

  To DT and RC. I love you.

  And to the Minions, who’ve helped me spread the good word about my books. You guys rock.

  Chapter 1

  Finally. All was as it should be. Michael McCauley nodded to himself as he glanced around his parents’ dining room table.

  James and Beth McCauley—his parents—were back together again. Happy, smiling, and doting on Colin, Mike’s pride and joy. Or, as his brothers called the boy, Mike’s little clone.

  Colin grinned and exposed a missing front tooth. One that had cost Mike five friggin’ bucks. The tooth fairy had definitely succumbed to inflation. Then again, it was a first tooth. With any luck, he could get away with leaving quarters under his six-year-old’s pillow in the near future. That bottom tooth looked suspiciously loose.

  “Thank you, Grandma.” Colin took the extra roll from Mike’s mother and smothered it in butter and jelly, ignoring his vegetables in favor of bad carbs and sugar.

  Terrific. “Mom, no more. Okay? Colin needs to finish his broccoli.”

  She frowned at him. So of course, his father frowned at him as well. In an attempt to suck up to his wife, James would do anything and everything to stay out of the doghouse.

  “Jesus, boy. It’s just a roll. Ease up.”

  “Yeah, Dad. Ease up.” Colin smirked.

  James winked at his grandson.

  “Colin. Dad,” Mike growled. When his mother turned to help Colin cut his steak, Mike leaned closer to his dad and whispered, “Laying it on a bit thick, aren’t you, old man?”

  James shrugged. “Hey, I learned my lesson. When your mother’s happy, I’m happy.”

  Nice that his father had learned that after thirty-six years of marriage. Mike considered himself a fast learner. After three dates with Lea, he’d known how to please his girl.

  Pressure balled in his chest at the thought of her name.

  He coughed to hide the pain building inside him and drank his water. Shit. He hated being like this, an emotional basket case. But he turned a little nutty this time of year, no matter how much he tried not to. Thank God he’d learned to hide his feelings, or his mother would be all over his ass to share.

  “Del said hi,” Colin said around a mouthful of dough. “Her daddy’s really big. Just like Grandpa.”

  Mike started. “Del?”

  His mother talked over him. “Isn’t he, though? Liam is just a big sweetie.” Beth smiled, prompting James to scowl. “Oh, stop, James. So we had coffee a few times. Liam is a very nice man. He said encouraging things about you, you know.”

  His father’s scowl faded. “Oh?”

  “Yep. Said you were so in love with me, you couldn’t help acting like a fool.”

  Back when his father had been separated from his mother, Mike had worried they might never get their acts together. He breathed a sigh of relief when his mother’s sly grin soon appeared on his father’s face. Mike didn’t have the energy to go to work day after day and watch his father turn back into a shell of a man. And having seen his mother cry… He never wanted to witness that again either.

  “Well, Liam was smart about one thing. He knew better than to lay his hands on my woman.” James pulled her close for a kiss.

  “Ew, Grandpa. Gross.” Colin made a face.

  “Yeah, Dad. Really? I’m trying to eat here.” Secretly, Mike reveled in his parents acting lovesick. It had been too long since they’d engaged in playful banter. Yet the clear affection showed him how much he was missing as a single dad. It didn’t help, either, that his brothers had all recently found love, making Mike the odd man out. Everything was changing, and he didn’t like it. At all.

  He pushed around his mashed potatoes and focused on what mattered—the here and now. Turning to Colin, he asked, “Since when are you and Del hanging out?”

  Delilah Webster. His sexy nemesis and constant headache, though she’d captured Colin’s admiration easily enough. Mike didn’t like the woman. Not her sexy tattoos, her brow ring, the stud in her nose, the funky way she wore her ash-blond hair, or those wolf-gray eyes that seemed to stare through him. So not my type. The woman and her mouthy attitude totally put his back up.

  Colin frowned. “When Uncle Cam watched me, we went bowling. And Vanessa and Del were there.”

  He could see Vanessa ignoring his wishes to keep the woman away from Colin. Now pregnant and engaged to his youngest brother, she had a way about her that didn’t invite question. But Cam knew better.

  “Vanessa shouldn’t have—”

  “Ahem.” His father frowned at Mike and shook his head. Then he turned to Colin. “Did you have fun?”

  Colin grinned. “Yeah. Del has big muscles and her arms are so cool. I want arms like that.”

  Sleeves of tattoos. On a woman. Mike did his best to convince himself she turned him off.

  “J.T. came too, and he’s huge.” Colin had stars in his eyes. Damn Del. “As big as Daddy.”

  “J.T.?” Beth asked.

  “Her brother,” Mike muttered, not pleased at all. He’d known as soon as he’d met the guy that Colin would idolize him. The resemblance to a certain celebrity, one of Colin’s favorite people, didn’t help matters.

  “I’ll bet he might be as big as your dad, but he’s not as strong,” Beth said gently. For his sake or Colin’s?

  “He’s a wrestler, Grandma.”

  Mike sighed. “No, son. That’s The Rock you’re thinking of. Del’s brother is someone else.” J.T.—the big bastard—had tried scre
wing with Mike not long ago. Unfortunately, Mike hadn’t gotten the fight he was still itching to finish. With J.T. or Del.

  “He’s fuckin’ awesome.” Colin beamed.

  The table fell silent.

  Mike met his mother’s stunned gaze, but his father continued to eat and question the boy, so he figured he hadn’t heard what he thought he had. She shrugged and returned to her dinner as well.

  After a few moments, he chimed in. “Colin, tell us about your field trip coming up. You’re not going to the zoo, are you?” Seattle’s Woodland Park Zoo had always been one of Colin’s favorite places to go.

  “Nope. We’re visiting the Reptile Pit.” Colin waxed on about his upcoming visit to the Pit, a popular place that taught kids about reptiles.

  Enthused that his son liked school and showed signs of being as gifted with academia as his grandma, Mike encouraged him with questions.

  “Yeah, Dad. I’m going to sit next to Brian when they bring the snakes out. He likes them too. Maybe you can come. They need chaperones.”

  “I’ll try.” But the timing would be tough. He was right in the middle of a massive remodel that was behind schedule due to some screwups courtesy of the homeowners. He hated being behind.

  “Do you get to handle the snakes?” James asked.

  “Ew. How about lizards instead? Maybe some cute little frogs,” Beth suggested.

  Colin smirked. “Grandma, don’t be such a girl.”

  For all that Colin loved his grandmother and crushed on Del, he still had a bias against girls. Not that Mike could blame him. His mother’s recent matchmaking efforts had nearly driven him insane with the opposite sex. Now that she had her hands full dealing with his father, he could ease back into—

  “Pass the fucking potatoes, Dad.” Colin waited.

  “What?”

  His mother dropped her fork. His father choked on his drink.

  Colin blinked innocently. “Pass the potatoes?” The mischief in his blue-eyed gaze was straight-up Brody—another troublesome brother too busy playing house with his girlfriend to come to Sunday night dinner. “Did I say something wrong, Dad?”

  “Oh hell no. We’re not playing Ubie’s game.” Ubie—Colin’s nickname for his Uncle Brody.

  “Mike,” Beth warned.

  “Where did you hear that word? The F-word.” Mike had said his share of choice phrases. He worked in construction with his father, for God’s sake. Swearing was a McCauley way of life. But the F-bomb… From his six-year-old?

  “Um, well…”

  “It was Del. Wasn’t it?” The woman plagued him, even on a Sunday with his family.

  “No.”

  Mike knew that tone. “Tell the truth.”

  A mulish frown settled over his son’s face. “J.T. said he wanted some fucking nachos. So Del told him to get his own. Then she told him to ‘mind his damn mouth because of the kid.’ She nodded at me. I’m the kid, Dad.” Colin glowed.

  “I get that.”

  “So it wasn’t Del. I told you.”

  The little smart-ass. “Watch your tone, boy. And your mouth.”

  “Well, if that ain’t familiar,” James said in a low voice. “Déjà vu, eh, son?”

  His mother coughed to hide a laugh.

  Mike narrowed his eyes at his old man. “You know, I remember getting my butt handed to me the first time I said ‘damn’ at this very table.” Trust his folks to turn on him when they’d been the ones hammering him with manners for the first eighteen years of his life.

  “Pass the damn potatoes, please.” Colin held out his plate.

  “Colin.” Mike glared. “We don’t curse, and we don’t use bad words at the table. Especially when you don’t even know half of what you’re saying. One more smart remark and you’re going to bed early tonight. Understand?”

  Colin heeded the warning. Finally. “Yes, Dad.”

  “Try again. How do you ask for the potatoes?”

  In an exceedingly polite voice, Colin asked, “Dad, would you please pass the mashed potatoes?”

  “Sure thing.” Mike pushed them next to the boy and knew he couldn’t avoid it any longer. Time to talk to Del again. He squelched any sense of anticipation, knowing the time had come to put a stop to his son’s growing attraction to the female mechanic draped in piercings and tattoos.

  And this time, Mike wasn’t going to play nice.

  ***

  “Oh my God. Dale, get in here.” Delilah Webster stared in dismay at the chaos that had become her office.

  The new guy popped his head in the door, snapping gum and doing his best impression of bored. He didn’t fool Del. She could see him sweating, and he refused to make eye contact.

  “Who the hell did this?” She waved around at the once-neat stacks of papers now scattering her desk. “You know the rules.”

  He nodded while remaining a fair distance away, in the doorway. “Um, yeah. No one touches your office.”

  “Well?” She planted her hands on her hips, so she’d keep them free and clear of the twerp’s neck.

  “I swear, it wasn’t my fault. I tried to get him to go away, nicely. He said he needed some paper to draw—”

  “J.T.” she bellowed, knowing who was at fault.

  Dale vanished like a ghost, and her brother ambled in from the garage door. The automotive repair shop that her father had started over thirty years ago now ran smoothly, courtesy of her administrative skills. Though she could turn a wrench and diagnose problems almost as well as her father, Del’s true strengths lay in her ability to organize the idiots around the place.

  She hired and fired without a problem. Some called her a bitch. So what? She got things done, people were paid, and they had clients out the ass. Something Liam Webster liked to brag about to all his buddies down at the pool hall.

  Unlike Del and her father, her older brother’s talents had gone in another direction. A temperamental artist with no respect for her professional space.

  “Yo, Del. What’s up?” He strolled into the office like he owned it, and her blood boiled.

  “What the fuck, J.T.? This is not your personal playground.”

  He tsked. “Language. Really, little sister. Is that any way to talk to the man who just designed the hood for your client’s fancy wheels?” He waved a piece of paper at her. “I was in the garage with Johnny when your rich dude came by. He saw my tats and wanted something like my skull on the hood.” He pointed toward the classic ’67 Chevy Camaro sitting in the garage. “I mean, I thought for sure he’d go for standard stripes. But the guy has a creative streak I thought you’d appreciate.”

  “That’s if we can translate your artwork the way he wants it. I don’t suppose you told him you’re a tattoo artist, not my painter?”

  “Well, no. But this isn’t going to be anything Lou can’t handle.”

  “It better not be,” she muttered and ripped the paper out of his hands. She took a hard look at it, noting the lines of the design, and grunted.

  J.T. laughed. “You sound just like Dad. Where is he, by the way?” He shot her a sly glance. “Still sniffing after that fine Beth McCauley?”

  Del stiffened at mention of the dreaded M-word—McCauley. “No. She’s living her happily-ever-after with her husband and four annoying sons in Queen Anne.” Ritzy Queen Anne—away from the south side. Rainer Avenue was going through a transition from lower income to upscale, but she liked the garage on the rough side. Kept all the hipsters out.

  “The sons might be annoying, but she’s got a cute grandkid. I like Colin.”

  She gave a reluctant smile. “Yeah. He sucked at bowling, but he’s a funny guy.” Truth be told, when she’d first met Colin McCauley last year, she’d been taken by the six-year-old’s sweet disposition and the mischief brimming in his bright blue eyes. Someday he’d grow up to be a real heartbreaker. He’d watched as she’d fixed the flat tire for his sitter, then asked her a million questions while she worked.

  Del didn’t have kids, but she liked them. U
nfortunately, her many tats and piercings often put them off. But not Colin. He’d been in awe of her full sleeves, the colorful work her brother had created.

  “Colin’s the only one I like.” She paused. “And maybe the women around him, but they’re not McCauleys, technically.” Not yet. She liked Maddie, Abby, and even the icy Vanessa. The trio had embraced Del with a sureness she still didn’t understand. They acted as if they truly liked her, and Del had never had much in the way of female friends. Well, not counting her cousin Rena.

  “So these women…” J.T. leaned a shoulder against the wall. “You think they’ll stick to the McCauleys? Because Vanessa was fine as shit.” At her look, he amended, “Ah, I find her rather attractive.”

  She snorted. “Rather. Gimme a break. Besides, she’s pregnant. I think her fiancé might mind you trying to hook up with his baby’s mama.”

  “Bummer.”

  “Don’t even start on the others. They’re all taken.”

  “Well, not all, Del,” he answered way too nicely. “From what I remember, that big hunk o’ love, Mike McCauley—Colin’s daddy—he’s single. Isn’t he?”

  “Shut up.” She did her best not to blush, recalling all too easily her last altercation with Mike. The ass. She’d caught him here in the office with her father. She thought he’d come to mess with her again. The guy had a bias against sugar, and sue her, the one and only time she’d baby-sat Colin, it had been Valentine’s Day and they’d shared some chocolate. Big deal. But not according to Mike.

  After lashing out at him, she’d learned he hadn’t come to bash her, only to talk to her father. Embarrassing enough. Then the galoot had taken her aside and threatened to kiss her. In front of everyone. She snorted. As if she wanted any part of him touching her. The jerk.

  She ignored the flare of heat that always accompanied thoughts of said jerk and started straightening up her desk.

  “Oh, you like him.” J.T. snickered. Six feet and four inches of adolescent humor. The gift that just kept on giving.

  “Don’t you have a job? Away from here?”

  He shrugged. “It’s after four. I’m taking the evening off. Got a date with Gina.”

  “Big boobs?”

  “Big ass. You’re thinking of Tina.”