“Champagne?” he said.

  She shrugged. “If I’m asking for too much, you could always find someone else to do your windows….”

  “But I’m only trying to do what’s best for you,” he said.

  She couldn’t help laughing as she rolled her eyes. “Right!”

  His lips tilted on one side. “Someday you’ll thank me.”

  “Gabe?” Hannah said when they were almost home.

  “Hmm?”

  “Why aren’t you more interested in Ashleigh? Or one of her friends?”

  “Who said I wasn’t interested?”

  “You put on a good act back there, but I can tell it was for their benefit, not yours.”

  “They’re too young for me.”

  “It’s not often you hear a man say something like that,” she said wryly.

  “And there wasn’t any chemistry,” he added.

  “I think they felt some chemistry.”

  “So did Race. He was hoping to go home with you tonight.”

  This information succeeded in surprising Hannah. “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Yes, he was.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He asked me what I thought his chances were.”

  “What’d you tell him?”

  “That you have two kids.”

  She pretended to dust off her hands. “And that probably took care of that.”

  “Actually, he said he wasn’t looking for a long-term relationship so kids didn’t matter.”

  “What? How shallow can you be? See? I’m better off on my own.”

  “Haven’t you ever had a one-night stand, Hannah?”

  She knew she should’ve been offended by the personal nature of the question, but for some reason she wasn’t. “No.”

  “Ever slept with anyone besides Russ?”

  “Are you gathering this information for Race?” she countered.

  “I’m curious,” he admitted.

  She crossed her arms over her chest because she was suddenly feeling self-conscious again. “What do you think?”

  “From what you said earlier, I’m guessing no.”

  “No doubt Oakridge will be a challenge next week,” she said, making a point of changing the subject.

  He laughed softly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

  She wasn’t ashamed. She’d married young and given Russ everything she had, even though she’d never really loved him. But talking about such intimacies with Gabe made her feel strange, unsettled. She missed having a sex life more when she was with him than at any other time.

  Of course, it could be her age, and not Gabe at all that had her in such a state, she told herself. Some people claimed a woman didn’t come into her sexual prime until she hit her thirties. Maybe she was a late bloomer, and hormones—not the man sitting next to her—were to blame for her recent awakening.

  Hannah wasn’t sure she believed that but she was willing to give herself the benefit of the doubt. “Don’t you think this is a dangerous subject for a man who guards his own privacy as fiercely as you do?” she asked.

  He shrugged. “Why?”

  “What if I were to ask you something you’d rather not answer?”

  “What do you want to know?”

  She’d expected to scare him off, not have him challenge her in turn.

  Clearing her throat, she looked away. She wanted to know the obvious—could he still make love? But she couldn’t bring herself to ask. She was too afraid the answer would be no. She didn’t want to risk humiliating him. And she didn’t want to have to assume responsibility for causing him that loss as well as all the others. “Never mind.”

  “Hannah?”

  She looked at him again. “What?”

  “The important parts still work.”

  This was good news indeed. At least she hadn’t robbed him of that.

  She smiled. “I’m so glad.”

  His eyebrows lifted at her enthusiasm. “So am I.”

  * * *

  THE FOLLOWING MORNING, Hannah hummed as she made breakfast. She felt more carefree than she had in a long time.

  “Hi Mom!” Brent burst into the house with his usual exuberance.

  She tucked her sleep-tousled hair behind her ears and set aside the spatula she was using to turn the eggs. “Hi, baby,” she said, giving him a hug. “Is Patti still here? Do you want to see if she’d like to come in for breakfast?”

  “She already left. She said she had to hurry or she’d be late for church.”

  Patti didn’t usually go to church. Hannah wondered if she was really in that big of a rush, or if she’d simply chosen not to come in. “Did you have fun last night?”

  “Yeah. Uncle Joseph played me in Battleship and I won!”

  “Good for you, sweetheart.” Hannah covered a yawn. She’d gotten little sleep last night. Even after Gabe had dropped her off, she’d lain awake in bed, thinking about him. “Go tell your brother it’s time to get up, okay?”

  “He won’t listen to me,” Brent complained.

  “Tell him he’s going to miss the car show if he doesn’t get a move on.”

  Brent started from the room, but his footsteps went only halfway down the hall before his voice came back to her. “He’s up, Mom—but there’s something wrong with his face.”

  “Shut up, you little mutant.”

  Something was wrong with his face? Hannah was so surprised by this comment she didn’t react to Kenny’s less than kind response to his brother. She glanced over her shoulder as they both entered the kitchen—and dropped the egg she’d been about to crack. “Kenny, what happened to you?”

  He slumped into a chair at the table. “Nothing. When’s Dad coming?”

  Russ was supposed to arrive any minute, but Hannah didn’t pass the information along. She was too shocked to see her son’s fat lip and black eye. “How’d you get hurt?”

  “How do you think?” he said. “I was in a fight.”

  She’d checked on him when she came in last night, found him already sleeping in his bed. She hadn’t noticed the injuries, but with his blinds drawn, it had been dark in his room, and she never would have thought to look that closely. “You haven’t been in a fight since third grade, when Chris Amberzini stole the cupcake out of your lunchbox.”

  He said nothing.

  “Who were you fighting with?”

  “Some jerk on the team.”

  “What’s this jerk’s name?” In a town as small as Dundee, she was almost guaranteed to know him or his parents, maybe both.

  “Sly Reed.”

  “Coach Blaine’s nephew?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Sly’s always fighting,” Brent volunteered. “He’s mean.”

  Hannah was too interested in getting to the bottom of the story to pay any attention to the peanut gallery. “Did he attack you?” she asked Kenny.

  “No.” Kenny scowled. “Can we just forget about it?”

  “Of course not!” she said. “Tell me what happened.”

  He folded his arms and glared up at her. “Fine. Tuck and I went to the Arctic Flyer. Sly was there. He started getting in my face, saying some stupid shi—stuff,” he quickly corrected. “So I hit him. That’s all.”

  Hannah covered her mouth. This wasn’t what she’d been expecting. Sly was the bully. “You started the fight? Kenny, how could you? You know better than that.”

  Between his glower and his injuries, Kenny looked awful. “Sly deserved it, Mom,” he said, and she was grateful to hear a flicker of the sweet Kenny she’d raised come through in his voice.

  Knowing her son, Sly must’ve done something to provoke him. Kenny wasn’t easily angered and had never been a problem child. He was popular, well-liked. But she hadn’t heard anything yet that would warrant the use of violence. Why wasn’t he coming forward with a clear explanation? “This happened in the lobby of the Arctic Flyer?” she clarified, still grappling to get the facts straight.

  “In the parking lot, behind the building.”

  “Did someone stop the fight, or….”

  “Mr. Campbell came out and said he was going to call the police.”

  Harvey Campbell owned the Arctic Flyer restaurant and often complained about the number of teenagers who hung out there on weekends. They made a mess, distracted the workers and spent precious little money. Hannah could easily imagine how well a fight in the parking lot must’ve gone over with him. “So you ran off?”

  “Are you kidding? Tiffany Wheeler was there. I wasn’t about to run anywhere.”

  So this had something to do with salvaging his pride?

  “How did it end?”

  “Booker Robinson pulled me off Sly and gave me a ride home.”

  “Booker Robinson was there?”

  “He and his wife were in line at the drive-through.”

  Thank goodness, or Hannah might have had to pick her son up from the police station. “I don’t believe this, Kenny,” she said, no longer sleepy in the least. “Did you hurt him?”

  “He definitely took the worst of it,” he said triumphantly.

  “Kenny got in a fi-ght…Kenny got in a fi-ght,” Brent chanted.

  “Shut up,” Kenny growled.

  Hannah pressed a hand to her suddenly aching head. “Brent, please.”

  Brent gave her a sheepish look and stopped taunting. Hannah turned back to Kenny. “What did Sly say that got you so mad, honey?”

  “He told Tiffany we were going to lose next Friday.”

  “That’s all?”

  “He told her we were going to lose because of me, that I was going to play a sucky game.”

  “I can see where that wouldn’t make you happy, Kenny. But I can’t see why you’d get mad enough to hit him. Just prove him wrong.”

  Kenny’s shoulders rounded and he stared at the floor. “You don’t understand.”

  She didn’t deny it. “Let me see your hands.”

  Grudgingly, he held them out to her, and she made a note of the nicks, gouges and swollen knuckles. “Do you think you might have broken anything? Do we need to get X-rays?” Money was tight this month. If he needed X-rays, she wasn’t sure how she was going to pay for them. Because medical insurance was so expensive for the self-employed, she carried a policy with a high deductible.

  He flexed his battered fingers. “No.”

  That was good news, at least. But she was willing to bet that what had happened last night wasn’t over yet. There’d be some fallout from it, most likely in the form of a call from Sly’s mother. “What am I supposed to say when Sandy Reed contacts me?”

  “Tell her I want her son to stay out of my face and leave me alone,” Kenny said.

  Hannah went to the cupboard for some Tylenol—for both of them. “What did Tuck do while this was going on?”

  “Tuck thinks Sly’s a loser,” Brent volunteered.

  “Sly is a loser,” Kenny concurred.

  Hannah set a glass of water and two capsules on the table. “That isn’t what I asked.”

  Kenny swallowed the medication, then downed the rest of the water. “He tried to stop it. But you know Tuck. He’s not the strongest guy in the world.”

  “Mom, you’re burning the eggs!” Brent cried.

  The acrid smell finally registered in Hannah’s brain. Whirling, she snatched up the spatula and tried to save the eggs she’d managed to get into the frying pan before Kenny appeared. But it was too late—they were already black. With a sigh, she dumped them down the garbage disposal, set the pan aside and opened a window. But before she could return to her discussion with Kenny, the doorbell rang.

  “If that’s Dad, tell him I don’t want to go anymore,” Kenny said.

  Hannah hoped it’d be that easy. She’d rather handle this latest development without Russ’s involvement, because no matter what she said, she knew her ex would take the other side. If she punished Kenny for fighting, Russ would praise him for being a man’s man and tell her she was trying to turn him into a mama’s boy. If she supported Kenny in what he’d done, he’d accuse her of trying to win points with their son at the expense of being a good parent.

  After the positive emotions she’d experienced last night, and the dreams she’d entertained afterward, it was too soon to deal with such a large dose of reality.

  “Stay here,” she said. “I’m sure he’ll hear about the fight, but maybe this will buy us a couple days.”

  “Where’s my lunch?” Brent asked, bending to tie his shoes.

  “On the counter.” Hannah doubled back to get it for him. Brent was all ready. Maybe she could send him off without having to invite Russ into the house. Then she could figure out what she needed to do about Kenny.

  “Thanks, Mom!” Brent took the paper sack and started to race out of the kitchen, but Kenny snagged him by the back of the shirt before he could clear the door. “Wait a second. Where do you think you’re going?”

  Brent scowled and tried to jerk away. “To the car show.”

  “Not without me, you’re not.”

  “I’m not going to miss it just because you don’t want to go,” he said, yanking on his shirt.

  “Kenny, let him go,” Hannah said.

  “Why? It won’t be any fun for him.” Kenny’s glower darkened. “You know Dad. He’ll be with his buddies, talking and drinking beer. He’ll basically ignore Brent.”

  Hannah gave him a meaningful look. “Are you telling me it’s not safe?”

  Kenny didn’t answer.

  The doorbell sounded again, followed by a rapid knock. “Hey, you guys up?” Russ called from outside.

  “Kenny?” Hannah prompted.

  Reluctantly, her son met her eyes. “No, but…why can’t he stay here with us?”

  “Because I want to see the cars,” Brent said. He’d finally wiggled loose from Kenny’s grasp and was attempting to slip around Hannah, but she held him off.

  “I already told him he could go, Kenny. Is there some specific reason I should change my mind?”

  Hannah thought he might come clean about the porn video. She could tell he wanted to. But she knew he’d decided against it when his gaze slid to the floor again. “Never mind. Give me a minute to change and I’ll go, too.”

  “Kenny—”

  He shoved to his feet. “It’s fine, Mom. Everything’s fine. Just answer the door before Dad loses it and starts shouting.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  HANNAH TOOK A DEEP BREATH and tightened her robe before answering the door.

  “They ready?” Russ asked without so much as a greeting.

  Hannah’s eyes scaled the man she’d lived with and slept with for twelve years. Russ’s lifestyle was taking a toll. He was growing a goatee, which helped to hide the bloat in his face. But it made him appear mean instead of just derelict. Today she thought he might even be hung-over. “Brent is.”

  As if her words had been his cue, Brent shot around her and headed straight for his father’s Jeep. But Kenny wasn’t dressed yet. Russ wouldn’t be leaving right away, as Hannah would’ve preferred.

  Russ looked her up and down. “Where’s Kenny?”

  “Changing.”

  “Tell him to get his ass out here.”

  “Give him a minute.”

  “We’re gonna be late,” he complained. “I told you to have them ready.”

  “You’re lucky I’m letting them go,” she pointed out, taking exception to his imperious tone. “It’s my weekend.”

  It was a good thing she didn’t expect any gratitude for the small sacrifices she made for the boys’ sake, because Russ was still so bitter over the divorce he vacillated between begging her to come back to him and making sure she never would. “Right. You’re a saint, much too good for me. I remember.”

  She bit her tongue, knowing the antagonism between them would only get worse once he saw Kenny’s face. “If you’d like to wait in the Jeep, I’ll send him out when he’s finished,” she said, hoping to avoid the whole exchange.

  “I’m here,” Kenny called from halfway down the hall, and Hannah braced herself with a deep breath.

  “What the hell happened to you?” Russ bellowed as soon as Kenny appeared.

  Mr. McDermott, her neighbor across the street, was outside watering his lawn. He glanced up, but Hannah pretended she didn’t see him. Curving her fingernails into her palms, she focused on Russ, being careful to keep her voice low. “He got into a fight last night.”

  “With who?”

  “Sly Reed.”

  “Sly?” Russ blinked several times, then his eyebrows drew together and his mouth clamped shut. “Get in the Jeep,” he told Kenny and stalked away.

  Hannah straightened in surprise. He was leaving? That easily?

  Suddenly, she realized that she must be missing a piece of information. Kenny had never been in a serious fight before, yet Russ’s emotions seemed to have skipped shock and worry and gone straight to anger. Why?

  Kenny cast her a sideways glance before climbing into the Jeep. She lifted her hand to wave, but his stark expression made her freeze midmotion. Earlier she’d assumed he’d wanted to stay home because he didn’t relish the thought of hearing his father’s reaction to the fight—and maybe he was hesitant to be seen in public with a black eye and a busted lip. Now she wondered if there might be more to it.

  Regretting her decision to let Russ take the boys, she stepped forward to stop him. But he acted as if he didn’t hear her calling his name. Blasting his stereo, he peeled out of the drive.

  Hannah was tempted to get in her car and chase him down. But she’d tried that once, and paid a heavy price for it.

  They stayed with their father every other weekend, she told herself. Certainly one extra day wasn’t going to matter. It was just a car show, and Brent was excited to go. They’d be back tonight.

  She managed to let them drive away. But no amount of self-talk could shake her worry over Kenny. Kenny hadn’t been himself for more than a week, and she was fairly certain Russ had something to do with it.

  * * *

  WHEN GABE WENT into town for groceries and dog food, it usually didn’t take long to get what he needed. He bought a side of beef once a year, which he had the butcher cut up and package for his freezer. He grew most of his own fruits and vegetables in his garden, and he didn’t eat a lot of processed foods. But Hannah had asked for some items that weren’t easy to come by. Like caviar.