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CHAPTER 1
Will Larson watched the batter bubbles burst before he flipped the
current batch of pancakes. When he heard the motorcycle roar up outside,
he knew Shane had finally arrived for breakfast.
“Good morning,” Will said, smiling as his youngest son came through the door sniffing the air like a hungry dog.
“Banana
walnut pancakes,” Shane said on sigh, walking into the kitchen of his
brother Michael’s house. “Those are still my favorite.”
Will
tossed a grin in his direction of his son, and then smiled when Shane
walked over and dropped an affectionate kiss on his unshaven cheek. His
youngest looked like his blond-haired Nordic-looking mother, but had
definitely inherited his father’s size, exceeding Will’s height by
several inches and the width of his shoulders even more. Will knew it
would take the same quantity of pancakes he and Michael ate together
just to fill the twenty-seven year old up, so he poured out batter to
make another six.
“So how’s the graphic novel business? Has the Winged Protector solved any more crimes or saved any more damsels in distress lately?” Will asked companionably.
“Nah.
His alter ego, Eric Benton, is mostly a monogamist. He’s still enjoying
the last damsel. I did get offered a deal for action figures last
week,” Shane said, going to the coffee pot and pouring himself a cup.
“Action
figures? That’s cool. Was it a good deal?” Will asked, impressed that
his son’s creative work was gaining popularity. He was doubly glad now
he hadn’t let Ellen discourage the boy’s comic book drawing too much.
Shane
shrugged. “It’s a toy company working with my publisher. My agent said
they’re offering enough to buy a small house, plus a percentage of sales
over time. I guess that’s pretty good.”
Will stopped and stared. “Pretty good? That’s great, Shane.” He went back to flipping pancakes, smiling and proud.
“When
you get your house, maybe I can come live with you for a while. I think
your brother Michael is tired of me already,” Will said, wanting to
laugh at the pained expression on Shane’s face.
It would be hard for his
youngest to bring home his one-nighters with his father in residence.
Will was seriously tempted to do it for a while just to disrupt Shane’s
habitual womanizing.
“Yeah, I am tired of you,” Michael
confirmed, walking into the kitchen, stretching and scratching the six
pack abdominal muscles he worked hard to maintain. It had been harder
since his father had been in his house and doing most of the cooking.
Will
laughed at his oldest son’s comment about being tired of him because it
was half teasing and half truth. The month he’d been living with his
oldest had been an interesting social adjustment for both to them, but
Will had been relieved to have some company for a while, even if it was
reluctant. The last year had been a lonely one for him.
When
he looked at Michael now and smiled, Will had the same thought he
always had that it was like looking in a mirror showing him a picture of
his past. Michael had inherited Will’s muscular build, but not his
height, which he complained about still at thirty-four. At five ten,
Michael was average in stature, but his wide shoulders, broad chest, and
muscled arms only emphasized the passionate nature promised by his dark
brown eyes and equally dark hair that hung nearly to his waist. Will’s
Celtic heritage had branded his eldest hard.
“Why are you tired of me?” Will asked, grinning.
“You’ve
been moping around my house, not dating, and barely working on your
art. I’m sick and tired of being greeted by a giant marble penis every
time I go out to the courtyard to work. Carve a freaking leg or
something, Dad. No matter how artistically impressive, a giant marble
penis by itself is still creepy as hell,” Michael complained, making his
father blush.
Michael laughed and patted his father on a
shoulder, sniffing the pancakes with appreciation. He loved to tease
him, but would never really criticize his father’s art. His mother had
done enough of that when she and his Dad were married.
Shane
was laughing so hard at his brother’s comment that coffee was
threatening to come out his nose. “So how long has the marble penis been
leading it’s solitary existence?”
Shane pulled a coffee cup out of a cabinet, and poured Michael a cup.
“Practically since Dad finally sold the house and moved in here,” Michael said.
Shane laughed as he handed his brother the coffee.
“Thanks,” Michael said, savoring that first bracing sip. “I think Dad’s depressed, Shane.”
Though
Michael was joking with his brother, there was serious element in his
tone as well. Despite his father’s amazing financial success as a
sculptor, his mother hadn’t ever thought his father’s art was as
important as his other work. As the oldest child, Michael clearly
remembered all the fights his parents had had about the time he’d spent
carving. Selling the house, which was also the place his father was used
to working, had been as bad as the divorce itself.
“Stop
talking about me in the third person. I am in the room, not deaf, and
not depressed,” Will denied, sighing. “I just haven’t felt like carving.
Throw a cover over it if it bothers you so much, Michael.”
“Maybe
the state of the statue is trying to tell you something, Dad,” Shane
suggested, his amused, but serious gaze on his father’s face. “Maybe the
marble penis isn’t the only penis leading a solitary existence. The
divorce was over a year ago. Mom and Luke married a few months after
it was final. You’re not even dating yet.”
Will turned off the griddle and set the mountain of pancakes in the middle of the table he’d already set for three.
“Listen,
Mr. all-but-dissertation in Psychology, when you actually finish that
million dollar doctorate at Johns Hopkins, then you can analyze me and
my man parts. Until then you’re just my smart ass son. Sit and eat—both
of you laughing hyenas,” Will ordered, only partially minding their
amusement at his expense.
“Dad, you know Michael and I
love you. At least let me give you my best dating advice,” Shane said
sliding his length into the nearest chair.
He heaped six
pancakes on his plate and covered them with a lake of syrup before he
paused and schooled his voice into the business-like tone he had learned
from the man he addressed.
“Shave your head, get an
earring, and ride your bike around town. Your body is great for a man
over fifty. You could be picking up the kind of women I do. Look, I got a
tongue stud. You need to get one of these. Women love this kind of
stuff.” Shane stuck out his tongue to show his father who only rolled
his eyes. He heard his brother Michael snickering around a mouthful of
pancakes, but merely ignored his jealous sibling.
Will studied the
tongue stud with a mixture of horror and shock. He looked at Michael
who only laughed, shrugged, and went on eating.
Michael
was crazy in love with a woman he couldn’t get along with for more than
two minutes at a time, and even though the woman wasn’t in his life
full-time, he wasn’t always out chasing away the good memories with
nameless, faceless blonds like Shane favored doing. His oldest son only
did that when the woman he loved got married. When she was divorced,
Michael resumed chasing her.
While it seemed fruitless to
Will to want a woman badly who obviously didn’t want you back, he
still never worried about Michael much. At least Michael cared about a
woman. He wasn’t sure Shane even had the capacity to genuinely love a
female.
“Shane, you are missing the big picture, son. Do
you even remember their names, what they did to you, what you did to
them? Do you ever want to go back to any of them so bad you ache?” Will
asked.
“No. But I’ve not been looking for that kind of experience,” Shane said, shrugging away his father’s disapproval.
Will
pointed his fork at Shane. “Yes, you are. I raised you. You know I felt
that way about your mother because I made sure you did. So I know
you’re at least sub-consciously looking for that whether you realize it
or not. There is nothing like finding that one incredible woman who
changes everything.”
“What happens when that one
incredible woman changes so much that she leaves you and marries a younger
man?” Shane asked sharply, daring his father to answer his question less
than honestly. He and Michael both knew that their father had taken the
divorce very hard.
“Look—every relationship is a risk in
some way. I had thirty-three years good years with your mother. We grew
apart, and she fell in love with someone else. I don’t know why these
things happen. They just do,” Will said, getting up and refilling his
coffee. “I am sad about the divorce, but not really depressed. When the
right time comes, I’ll find someone and start dating again. I have an
open mind about it.”
“Good. When?” Shane asked, watching
his father walk back to the table and sit down heavily with a resigned
sigh. He wanted to laugh at his father’s irritation with him, but held
it in.
“When I’m ready and I meet someone, I will start
dating again. There’s nothing wrong in waiting for the right woman to
show up. I don’t need to fill the interim with tall leggy blondes half
my age,” Will said firmly.
“Fine,” Shane said, his tone dripping
with fake resignation. “I’ll take care of chasing all the leggy blondes
half your age, Dad. Geez, you’re hard to satisfy. No wonder Michael is
tired of you.”
Shane looked at his brother, his gaze full of wickedness. “What kind of women does Dad pawn off on you?”
“None—and
I’m totally pissed now,” Michael said, putting as much anger in his
voice as he could over the urge to laugh. “Dad’s always liked you
better, Shane. When you buy your house, he’s definitely moving in with
you.”
“Oh, shut up and eat—both of you,” Will said,
stabbing his pancakes viciously, tired of being harassed by his adult
children. “I’m getting my own damn place as soon as I can.”
“When?
Mom said you gave all the house sale money to her,” Shane said sadly,
shaking his head side-to-side in pity. “I guess that means you’re broke.
That marble penis better grow a body soon.”
At the
vicious swearing following Shane’s comments, Michael shook his head at
his father as well and made sympathetic noises with his tongue. “Did you
ever even use the f-word when you a principal, Dad? I don’t even
remember you swearing in front of us until Shane ran over your Harley
with his car.”
“Thanks, Benedict Arnold. Did you have to
remind him about me killing the bike?” Shane asked, pancakes all but
falling out of mouth. Killing his father’s beloved Harley was the only
thing Shane had ever done in his life so bad that his father had been
truly disappointed in him.
“You’re the one making Dad mad this morning, not me,” Michael, said laughing at Shane’s pained expression.
Since
it was his house, Michael reasoned, he could say anything he wanted to
defend himself under his own roof. This included shifting his father’s
irritation in his brother’s general direction and away from him. His
obvious success made his smile even wider.
“I’m definitely
getting my own place soon,” Will said to his pancakes, even as both his
sons laughed harder. “And I’m not inviting you two over for breakfast.”
Shane pointed his fork at his brother. “If I never get banana pancakes again, you are a dead man.”
Michael grinned, and gave his brother the finger to let him know how afraid he was of him and his threats.
“I am serious,” Shane warned, stabbing the air between him and Michael with his fork like it was a weapon.
Will
rolled his eyes to the ceiling and shook his head. Sometimes he wished
they had both taken more after their less passionate mother.
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