Summer of Love Marie Ferrarella (easy books to read in english TXT) 📖

daughter was standing right next to him. Not without Jess’s approval. “Tell you what. Call your daughter and talk to her. If she’s in agreement with me coming over tonight, I’ll be glad to.” How was that for admitting he had no other plans for a Friday evening?

Another poke to the arm, harder this time. “What are you doing?” she whispered.

He gave her a helpless shrug.

Unlike Jessi, he’d never married, instead throwing his whole life into helping others who were dealing with traumatic events stemming from their military service. It had been the least he could do for his dad, who, like Chelsea, had felt all alone.

“Okay, I’ll do that.” A quick laugh made a warning system go off in his head. “Do you still like corned-beef brisket?”

She remembered that? He’d eaten over at their house exactly once, which was when he’d discovered how overprotective her dad was—the polar opposite of his. And he hadn’t liked Clint. At all. Clint had never been invited back to the house again.

“I love brisket.” Not that he thought there was a snowball’s chance in hell that Jessi would agree to him coming over and talking about Chelsea’s condition. If she’d wanted her mom to know how treatment was going, surely she would have told her by now.

“See you around seven, then.”

Not quite sure how to answer that, he settled for a noncommittal reply. “Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Spencer.”

The phone clicked off.

He met Jessi’s accusing eyes. “Why did you let her invite you to dinner?”

As if he’d had any choice in the matter. One eyebrow went up. “I think the more important question is how did she get my number and why is she calling me, instead of you?”

“I don’t know what you—”

Her phone started playing some samba beat that made him smile. Jessi groaned. “Oh, Lord. How am I going to get you out of this?”

“Don’t worry about trying. I can come, if it’s okay with you.” Why he’d said that he had no idea.

“Hi, Mom. No, I’m … out at the fair.” She licked her lips, while Clint handed money to the man in the funnel cake booth. “I know, I’m sorry. It was a spur-of-the-minute thing. A friend invited me.”

She listened again, her face turning pink. “No, it’s not a guy friend.”

Pretend feathers all over his body began to ruffle and quiver in outrage as he accepted two plates from the vender. Uh … he could show her he was a guy, if she needed proof. Scratch that. She’d already seen the proof.

“Don’t sound so disappointed, Mother.” She rolled her eyes and glanced back at him. “You did what? How did you get his number?”

Her lips tightened, and she plopped down on a nearby bench, shutting her eyes for a second. “That’s right. I forgot I left his card on the refrigerator. What were you doing at my house, anyway?”

Clint shifted beside her, uneasy about listening in on the conversation.

“Mom, you are going to spoil Cooper rotten. You know he has a weigh-in coming up.”

Cooper? He set one of the plates on her lap and kept the other for himself. Did Jessi have another boyfriend? Visions of some muscle-bound hunk lounging in her bed came to mind.

No, she would have said something to him.

And exactly when had he given her the chance? He’d asked about Larry, but not about any other man who might be waiting in the wings.

“What? Clint already agreed to come? Wow, he sounds a little desperate, doesn’t he?”

She stuck her tongue out at him, just as he took a bite of his fried cake, making him relax in his seat. “Okay, I’m about done here, so I’ll start heading back that way. Love you.”

He hadn’t exactly agreed to go, and he was glad Jessi had heard for herself his side of the conversation. His smile widened. It would seem Mrs. Spencer could play loose and easy with rules, too.

She got off the phone and picked her cake up with a napkin he held out to her.

“Desperate, am I?” He didn’t try to hide the wry tone to his voice.

“What could I do? If I said you couldn’t come to dinner, she’d make up her own conclusions. And I couldn’t exactly admit that you were sitting right next to me, eating funnel cake, could I?”

That part was his fault. He’d been the one to pretend they weren’t together.

“So who’s Cooper?” He dropped the question as if it were no big deal. Which it wasn’t.

“A communal beagle,” she said, as she swallowed. “Mmm … that’s good stuff.”

Also good was the dot of powdered sugar on her lower lip. One he was just able to refrain from licking off.

“A communal … beagle?”

Her tongue sailed across her lip, whisking away the sugar. “Okay, I guess that does sound weird. He adopted me about a year ago … came waddling up to the door and scratched on it. No one ever claimed him, so Mom and I have been caring for him between the two of us. He’s on a diet. Supposedly.” Stretching her legs out in front of her, she went on, “When I have to work late, Mom takes him to her house. You’ll probably meet him tonight. Since you’re evidently coming to dinner.”

She munched down on another piece of cake, moaning in enjoyment. “That is if you still have room for food after this.”

“You haven’t asked me if I had plans for the evening.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh, God. I’m sorry. Do you?”

“No. But I don’t want to make things any harder for you than they already are.” The tortured look when she’d discovered her daughter’s pregnancy came back to haunt him. “I know this isn’t easy, Jess.”

“No, it’s not.” She paused, setting her food back on her plate. “Can you let me set the tone of the conversation? Mom will just worry herself sick if she knew the extent of what Chelsea is facing. And she hasn’t seemed herself recently either. She was on antidepressants for several