An Unexpected Father Read online

  The thought of how dangerous Patrick and Evan could be together did give Ian pause. Reluctantly, he nodded. “I suppose you’re right.”

  “Good. We’ll meet Evan at the Gull and go on, maybe down to the tiki bar on the Magothy River.”

  “All right. What time?”

  “Seven.”

  With a wave, Ian turned and walked down the dock, worried and unsettled. The last thing he wanted was to see Mimi Green. Not before he had a chance to figure out what had happened between them. As his feet tromped on the dock, he startled a pair of mallards. They burst out of the water in a wild flapping of wings that startled Ian out of his thoughts. The birds were everywhere this time of year, engaged in their annual mating dance. The pair flew off. Ian gave himself a mental shake and climbed onto the boat.

  Nothing had happened.

  He had just had a momentary surge of lust for a pretty face and a tight T-shirt. He was building this up into something it wasn’t. Down in the cabin, Ian picked up a piece of teak and his drill. Fitting a quarter-inch bit into the chuck, he tried to push all thoughts of her out of his head. He was leaving in four months. Nothing was going to stop him this time, especially not a woman.

  Once before, he had changed plans for that reason. That woman had become more important to him than sailing around the world. For almost a year, he had shaped his future around her. One dark day, he abruptly realized that she had no interest in doing the same for him. In fact, she had no more interest in him at all. After picking up the pieces of his broken heart, Ian had decided he was going to be single-minded in pursuing his goal. No more detours. He was going to sail around the world and he was going to do it alone.

  As he drilled through a piece of teak trim, he forced the image of blue eyes and a kissable mouth out of his head. It was lust, pure and simple. Just like the mallards in June. Mimi Green meant nothing to him. She never would. Never.

  MIMI SMILED AS SHE SET BEER coasters in front of the two men. “Good evening. What can I get you guys?”

  “A Yuengling,” the dark-haired man said with a smile.

  The silver-gray eyes weren’t familiar, but his face and the smile were. “Are you a Berzani?” she asked.

  The man grinned. “Guilty as charged. Patrick Berzani,” he said, holding out a hand. “How did you know?”

  “Are you kidding? You all look alike.” The other man—blond with amazing green eyes—laughed as he spoke. He turned to Mimi. “You should have been at his wedding. It was a nightmare keeping them all straight.”

  “I’m Mimi Green,” she said as she shook Patrick’s hand. “I went to school with Anna.” For some reason, she didn’t want to mention meeting Ian earlier in the day.

  “Hurricane Annie,” the blond said with a snort of laughter. “A tempest in every teapot.”

  “Watch it,” Patrick said, frowning. “That’s my sister you’re talking about.”

  “Like you haven’t called her that?”

  Patrick grinned and shot a glance at Mimi. “That’s different.”

  Mimi laughed: brothers were all alike. Every one she had ever met tormented their sisters endlessly, but fought to the death if anyone else tried to do the same.

  “She’s coming out this weekend,” Patrick said to Mimi. “I’ll let her know you’re around.”

  “Thanks, I’d appreciate that. It would be great to see her.”

  “Don’t bet on it,” the blond said with a smirk. At the same time, he held out his hand and she put hers into it. He kissed the back of it dramatically. “The one and only Evan McKenzie, at your command.” He smiled up at her and winked.

  “He’s one of a kind, all right,” Patrick said. “Good thing, too.”

  “It’s nice to meet you both,” she said with a laugh. “What can I get you?” she asked Evan.

  “I’ll have a summer ale and your phone number,” Evan said.

  Mimi laughed and turned to Patrick. “He’s not that original.”

  “Hey, give me a chance here,” Evan protested.

  With a shake of her head, Mimi turned away. “I’ll be back with your drinks.”

  The chuckles behind her told her they got the message. Evan would probably tease her a bit more, but neither man would be a problem, she was sure of that. Maybe it was genetic—passed on from her father—but wherever it came from, Mimi had a knack for telling which customers were going to cause trouble and which weren’t.

  Of course, she had spent a lot of time in bars over the years, so that might explain some of her intuition, too. Belting out songs on the stage was different than slinging drinks, but both involved reading the customer. If she judged her listeners accurately, read their reactions to the music, she could give her songs more emotional power without becoming maudlin or melodramatic. When she was in tune with her audience, it was the most intoxicating feeling in the world. She could keep them coming back for more, night after night.

  With a sigh, Mimi pushed the memory to the back of her mind. Music was the past; tending bar was the present. She had given up the life of a singer partly for Jack’s sake, partly because success in front of a band was so elusive. She refused to regret her choice. She had squarely faced reality—turning from her dreams and the road—and set to the task of making a stable home for herself and her son. It had been the right decision. What the future held, she didn’t want to think about right now. She had worries enough with Jack.

  She stopped at another table and took an order for a glass of wine and a vodka tonic. Seven o’clock and she had three tables full, plus a couple of singles at the bar. It was going to be a busy night. She turned her orders in to her father and he mixed drinks while she poured wine. He pulled two pints of beer and set them on a tray, along with the drinks for the second table. Adding two small bowls of pretzels, Mimi balanced the large platter and expertly hoisted it without a single wobble—another skill she had apparently acquired from her father.

  Delivering the wine and vodka first, along with one bowl, she then turned to Evan and Patrick’s table. She set the beers down before the two men, then the pretzels.

  “I know I’ve seen you around somewhere. Have we met before?” Evan asked with a grin. “Maybe I’d recognize your phone number.”

  Mimi laughed and shook her head at his persistence. He was definitely the sort of guy who liked to test and tease. There was no spark between them, though. Not like with Ian Berzani, a voice prompted in her head. She squashed the thought immediately.

  “I don’t give my phone number out to strange men,” she said, wearing a mock frown.

  “I’m not strange,” Evan said. “Tell her, Patrick.”

  “It’s true. In fact, you’re beyond strange,” Patrick said with a solemn shake of his head.

  “Come on! I’m not that bad.”

  “No, you’re worse.”

  Mimi laughed at that. “I’ll be back to check on you in a while.”

  “My heart will probably stop beating until you return,” Evan said soulfully, hand on his chest. His eyes shifted to look over her shoulder and he grinned. “Ian! You’re just in time to save me. Tell this gorgeous woman she has to give me her phone number or I’ll die.”

  Mimi heard the name and froze. Her fingers tightened on the tray she held. Slowly, she turned her head and saw Ian Berzani walking toward the table. The speechless immobility she had experienced earlier engulfed her again. Their eyes met and locked as he came closer. He looked just as gorgeous as he had this afternoon. He wore a blue-and-white-checked shirt, and his jeans had been replaced by khaki cargo pants. On his feet, he wore the same battered deck shoes. As he came two steps closer to her, Mimi noticed that his hair was damp and the dark shadow that had been on his jaw earlier was gone. Freshly shaven, the skin there looked smooth and silky. How would it feel under her caress?

  Ian reached the table and stood beside her, staring down with an unfathomable expression. His eyes were half lidded, hidden behind thick lashes. Mimi could smell the spicy tang of his aftershave. She brea
thed it in and felt a strong urge to bury her face in his neck and surround herself in his scent. She clutched the tray to her chest to shield against the attraction she felt.

  Ian flicked a glance at Patrick then Evan. “I thought your little black book was filled, McKenzie,” he said.

  “What book? When I met Mimi, I threw it away,” Evan said, his eyes wide.

  “Is he bothering you?” Ian asked Mimi, one eyebrow lifted in inquiry. “If he is, I can put his muzzle back on.”

  “Not especially,” Mimi answered. Her voice came out breathless and she winced. She sounded as if she had asthma. She cleared her throat. “What can I get you to drink?”

  “An IPA. Thanks.”

  With a glance at the other two men, Mimi fled the table. As she went, she heard Patrick ask, “Wow, what’d you do to scare her off?”

  A few minutes later, Mimi brought Ian’s beer to the table. She smiled without meeting his eyes. “Can I get you all anything else?”

  “Just stand there and let me adore you,” Evan said. He grabbed her hand and kissed it again.

  Mimi shook her head in exasperation, tugging to get away from him. “No touching allowed.”

  “Evan, give it a rest,” Ian said.

  Mimi’s eyes went wide as she looked over at Ian. Had she heard a growl in his voice? Evan and Patrick must have heard something strange, too; they both froze and peered at him. As Ian glowered at his friend, a sly grin grew on Evan’s lips. He glanced back and forth between Ian and Mimi, his eyes taking on a speculative gleam. Mimi flushed hot, then cold, and snatched her hand away.

  Evan’s smile sharpened. “Hmm. Seems I’m too late. Someone else already has your number,” he said in a silky tone, his eyes back on Ian.

  “My phone’s been disconnected. Permanently,” Mimi said tartly. She had no interest in playing Evan’s game, whatever it was. She darted a glance at Ian, whose eyes were locked in battle with Evan’s. She couldn’t read his expression, but Evan’s gleeful mischievousness was easy to see. For a long minute, no one said anything, then Ian abruptly sat back and looked out the window.

  “Well, uh, enjoy your drinks,” she said feebly.

  As she walked away she heard Evan laugh. A flush crept over her cheeks and she couldn’t stop herself from glancing back at the three men. Patrick was staring at Ian, who still had his face turned to the window as he sipped his beer. Evan was looking straight at her. Unexpectedly, he winked and she felt her face heat. Mimi snapped back around and walked quickly away. She had a sinking feeling her instincts about Evan had been completely wrong. He was going to cause her all kinds of trouble.

  IAN TOOK A LONG DRINK of his beer, then set the glass down. He carefully placed it in the center of the cardboard coaster Mimi had dropped on the table in front of him. He just as carefully avoided meeting Evan’s or Patrick’s gazes. He had overreacted and he knew it. Seeing Evan touch Mimi had snapped some tether and Ian had reacted without thinking. He also knew that Evan scented blood and would tear after it like the shark that he was. Somehow, Ian would have to endure the ribbing that was sure to come. Finally, he raised his eyes.

  “She’s hot, isn’t she?” Evan asked.

  The remark pierced Ian, but he snuffed any visible reaction. “She’s all right.”

  “As the only married man present, I swear that I have no opinion,” Patrick said with a laugh.

  “You’re so whipped,” Evan said, slanting a glance at his friend.

  “And proud of it.” Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Besides, if I said any different, how long would it take you to tell Kate?”

  Evan smirked.

  “Let’s get out of here,” Ian said.

  “You just got your beer,” Patrick said, taking a sip of his own.

  “And I think Mimi wants me.” Evan’s eyes challenged Ian’s. “Don’t you think so?”

  “I’m starved. I missed lunch,” Ian said, ignoring the other man. “Let’s go down to Gritty’s and get a burger.”

  “They have food here,” Evan said. “And the waitress is much better looking. I don’t know, though. She is kind of skinny. You think those breasts are real?”

  Ian’s teeth snapped together, but he refused to be drawn. “They just have bar food here. I want a meal.”

  A couple sat at the table behind Evan. Mimi walked over to greet them. Her laughter rang clear as she joked with the man and woman. Ian drank again and deliberately avoided looking at her. It didn’t matter though. He could picture her face clearly in his head, her curved body and ready smile.

  “You don’t call a burger ‘bar food’?” Evan asked, tilting his head to one side as he looked at Ian.

  “I don’t see burgers listed here,” Patrick said, scanning the menu.

  “I’ll bet Mimi would whip us up something special if I asked her.” Evan smiled and looked over at Mimi as she moved through the bar. His eyes narrowed and his lips pursed. “I bet she knows how to cook.”

  The beginnings of a headache throbbed at Ian’s temples. Evan would go on goading as long as they sat here, probing until he found the soft spot that would send Ian over the edge. Ian had a sinking feeling it wouldn’t take him long. Evan was a friend, but tonight, Ian felt like punching him every time he opened his mouth. He had to end the game now.

  “Whatever bee you got up your ass about Mimi and me, you’re wrong,” Ian said, meeting Evan’s eyes directly and keeping his own carefully blank. “I’ve got no interest in starting anything with anyone right now. She could look like Jessica Biel and cook like Rachael Ray and I’d still be out of here in October.”

  “Seems to me that you’ve already got something started,” Evan said.

  “Nope.”

  “So, I can ask her out?”

  “It’s no skin off mine,” Ian said with a shrug.

  Evan squinted at him for a long moment, as if he was not about to back off. Amusement lurked in the back of his green eyes, too. Ian shifted in his seat waiting to duck the next salvo.

  Patrick intervened before Evan could speak. “How about we go to the Portside?” he suggested, pushing his beer aside. “I think it’s prime-rib night.”

  “Good enough,” Evan said without taking his eyes off Ian. He stood, pulled a money clip out of his pocket and peeled off a twenty. “My treat. I don’t get entertained like this very often.”

  Ian felt the words dig at him, but he absorbed them without comment. He pushed his chair back and stood. Patrick did the same and the three men walked to the door.

  Evan detoured to the bar where Mimi stood loading her tray with drinks. “We’re going outside to decide the old-fashioned way who gets your number,” he announced. “The winner will be back in a while.”

  She rolled her eyes in response. “It was nice to meet you,” she said to Patrick. “Bring your wife next time and leave this guy at home in the kennel.”

  She didn’t look at Ian at all. For some reason, that annoyed him. He squelched the irritation, though. If she wanted to ignore him, that was fine with him. That just made his life simpler. Simple was what he wanted.

  Chapter Three

  Mimi stood with her arms crossed over her chest, staring out the window overlooking the creek where a trio of ducks flapped and splashed at the edge of the water. The afternoon at the Laughing Gull was quiet, no one out on such a dark and rainy day. Her father stood behind the counter, reading through the sports section. She sighed, turned around and walked over to hitch herself up on a stool in front of the bar.

  Her father looked at her from under thick brows. “Why don’t you go home? I can handle the crowd in here today.”

  Mimi propped her elbows on the bar. “What if there’s a rush?”

  “Ever heard of a telephone?”

  With a laugh, she dropped her chin onto her stacked fists. George Green folded his newspaper and set it aside. He poured a glass of cola, added a wedge of lime on the rim and a straw, then set it in front of his daughter.

  “This one’s on the house.”


  Mimi lifted her head and pulled the glass toward her, squeezing the lime before dropping it into the dark liquid. She swirled the ice cubes around with the straw, then took a sip. “Thanks.”

  “So, what’s up, Mim?” George asked.

  “Nothing,” she said with a shrug. “It’s the weather.”

  Her father moved behind the bar to the coffeemaker, bringing the pot over to top off his cup, then set it back on the burner. “I haven’t heard a note out of that guitar of yours since you got back.”

  Mimi darted a glance at him, then looked back at her drink. “I don’t play anymore.” Silence met her words. She let it stretch to the breaking point, then shot him another look. “Really.”

  George shook his head and sipped his coffee. “You know,” he said meditatively, “I’ve worked this bar for over thirty years. I’ve seen drinkers come and go. Some of them drunks, most of them not. I can always pick the drunk out of the crowd, though. Even when they’ve given up the bottle. There’s a need that’s always there, always just a second away from tipping them over the edge. I figure that’s why they call themselves recovering alcoholics. They know that urge will be with them the rest of their lives, whether they give in to it or not.”

  “I’m not an alcoholic.”

  “Nope, you’re not.” George leveled a stare at his daughter. “But if you stop playing music now, you should tell people you’re a recovering musician.”

  “Dad—”

  “You’ve played guitar and sung for twenty years, Mim. You can tell me you’ve given it up, but the urge will always be with you.”

  “I tried,” Mimi said, sucking down the bitterness that rose in her throat. “For ten years, I did everything I could to make it happen, to be a success. I dragged Jack all over hell and gone and what did I get out of it? Nothing.”

  “So you didn’t become a star, Mim. Big deal. Not many people do and that’s the harsh truth. Do they stop playing and singing because the world doesn’t listen?”

  “But what if playing guitar for me is just like booze for an alcoholic?” She kept her eyes on her glass, poking the straw at the ice cubes in her drink. Finally, she looked up again. “I stopped playing because I can’t keep chasing that dream, Dad. I just can’t,” she said in a whisper.