She’d done a movie about CIA agents in love, and while it had been criticized for being not realistic—the rival agents managed to have sex in the shower in the middle of a gun battle—the male lead had called himself Mr. Black because that’s what CIA agents did to conceal their real names.
“I didn’t mean to make the world go boom.” Jasper started to cry.
“Please help my mummy save the world.” Sophy had tears in her eyes again. And a British accent that she hadn’t had before.
Oh, she was fucked. “I can watch the kids. I’m good with kids.”
She hoped.
Chelsea didn’t even wait a second. She passed that chunky, adorable baby over. “This is Ryder. He will sleep if you give him a bottle and hum the theme song to Gunsmoke. I know it’s weird. You’ll have to meet his grandfather someday. Jasper will climb on all surfaces, and he is not immune to gravity. Also, he’s not big into clothes. Sophy will help you with everything. My number is in the bag, but honestly, I won’t be able to answer until I fix the problem. We should know something in…” She glanced down at her watch and then a weird laugh came out of her mouth. “An hour. If that timer was right. Okay.”
She turned and sprinted down the hall.
“What’s Gunsmoke?” Vanessa looked to Sophy, who was leading the kids inside.
“Some weird old show,” Sophy replied, entering like she’d been here a million times. “Do you have any cookies?”
The baby was patting her face, the sweetest toothless grin coming out.
“I like cookies.” Jasper ran down the hallway, and that was when she noticed he’d already ditched his pants. They were lying on the floor. He’d already started taking off his shirt and was screaming something about being Spiderman.
She was in so much trouble.
* * * *
The minute he realized his brother was sitting with their mom, Michael knew he was in trouble.
His mother was sitting at a table in the private dining room of one of Uptown’s most exclusive restaurants. The table was right beside the big windows that overlooked the city, skyscrapers rising all around them. Ava Malone was a lovely woman, and she’d been the best mom he could have hoped for. She was smart and kind and fierce when it came to her family.
His twin sat beside her, a coffee mug near his hand and a concerned look on his face.
The last time he’d seen JT so concerned had been when Michael had joined a CIA team. Of course, he hadn’t exactly told JT that was what he was doing, but his brother was smarter than he looked.
He thought seriously about turning and walking out because this had all the hallmarks of an…intervention. The only thing lacking was his father.
He sighed and wished he’d told his mom he was busy. Of course then she would have shown up at his doorstep, and Vanessa would have gotten involved.
Though the fact that his mom and brother were here made him a little nervous that Vanessa was already involved. He’d noticed a photographer lurking around the Lodge Corp building. It was only a matter of time.
Or this was about his dad.
His heart threatened to seize. His dad was in his seventies, and he’d given up the daily running of Malone Oil to JT and JT’s wife, Nina, who’d rebranded it as Malone Oil and Energy. His dad seemed to be happy and healthy, but anything could happen.
Now there was no thought of leaving. He followed the server to the table. JT stood and held out a hand.
“Hey, brother,” JT said.
“Is everything okay?” He shook his brother’s hand, holding it because if this was bad news, he would need JT to hold on to.
JT’s brows rose, and then he seemed to understand. “Dad’s great. No, this isn’t about Dad or the kids or Mom. Everyone’s fine.”
He hugged his brother and breathed a sigh of relief. “Good.”
His mom was standing, a hand on his arm. She spoke to him in that crisp upper-crust British accent she’d never lost despite living the majority of her life here in the States. “Darling, I’m sorry you thought that for a moment. No. Your dad is perfectly fit. His cholesterol is down, and he’s running around the house like a kid, playing with Jasper and Ryder. He’s so happy.”
His father lit up every time he looked at his grandsons.
What would his kids with Vanessa look like?
Not that he was having kids with Vanessa.
He shoved that thought aside and sank down to his seat. “All right. Everyone’s good, so what is up with the command performance?”
From the tight set of his mother’s jaw he figured he’d been right in the first place.
JT called over a server. “We’re going to need something stronger than coffee. Could you bring a pitcher of sangria and two beers?”