Joy Ride Desiree Holt (ebook reader 8 inch .TXT) 📖

Marc chuckled. It was a well-accepted fact in the family his mother’s culinary skills were limited to casseroles and any kind of breakfast food. As a result, both the senior Malone and the three boys had become skilled cooks. Kitchen time had been a time to bond, to vent, to laugh and enjoy. And when all the boys were old enough, to be flavored with generous sips of an excellent wine.

“Thanks, anyway.” He looked everywhere but at her, struck with a sudden case of nerves. This might be the most important thing he’d ever come to her with and for a moment, he wasn’t sure he wanted to hear her reaction. Shut up. This is why you’re here. “I think I just wanted some of your sage insight and advice.”

“Uh oh.” She took down a glass, filled it with ice water, and sat across from him. “Spill it, kid. What’s up?”

Marc rubbed his hand over his face. He knew what he had to say would sound stupid even to himself, but he needed someone’s opinion besides Rick’s.

“Okay. Here’s the deal. And try to listen not as my mother, okay?”

She laughed. “That’s a pretty big order but I’ll try.”

He tilted the can and took a long swallow of his soda. “I met this girl. Woman. Female.”

“I hope she’s female.” Frannie sipped her water calmly. “But what’s going on here, honey? You haven’t discussed a female with me since you were sixteen, so this one must be special.”

He nodded. “She is. Very special.” His whole body tightened. “ I…have very strong feelings for her.” And growing stronger by the minute.

“No kidding? Strong enough to bring her over for Sunday brunch? Or would you be rushing things too much?”

“I…don’t think I could just yet.” How the hell was he going to explain this to his mother? Not that ML wouldn’t fit. Of all the women he’d dated, she was the most likely candidate. He had the feeling his family would love her, if he could ever make this work.

“Oh?” Frannie arched an eyebrow. “Is she gun-shy? I hope she’s not someone I wouldn’t want to meet. I thought you had better judgment, sweetie.”

“Worse than that,” he blurted out. “I don’t know her name.”

“What?” His mother stared at him. “Please tell me you’re joking. Or, wait a minute. You’ve only seen her and not met her, right? Although…no, you wouldn’t have feelings like this for someone you haven’t met. I know you better.”

“Nope. I have actually met her. I probably shouldn’t be telling my mother this but she’s spent the night with me. Twice. Sort of.” He raked his fingers through his hair. “God. Mom, I could really use your take on this.”

Frannie shook her head. “Maybe you’d better start at the beginning.”

He swallowed more of his cold drink. “Don’t smack me down at the details, okay?”

“I’ll put away the paddle,” she joked, and he knew she was trying to put him at ease.

“She came into the club a couple of weeks ago on a Saturday night. And Mom? I swear, it’s like electricity zapped between us so strong you could see it. I’d never seen her there before and just by the way she acted, I had a feeling she’d never been in any rock club.”

“Do you happen to know why she showed up when she did?”

He shook his head. “No. And I can’t….” He stopped. “Let me finish first. Questions after.”

“Okay. You’re right.”

“So, okay, the more I watched her the more I wanted to know her. I followed her out to the parking lot after closing and I…kissed her. Jesus. It was like stepping into a roaring fire. So I asked her to come home with me.”

Frannie held up her hand. “I think we skip what came next.”

“No kidding.” Heat crawled up is face. “So then I see her in the grocery store the next day and she acts like she doesn’t know me. And I’m telling you, I was pissed as hell.” He got up to get another drink before he went on. “So then she comes back a week later, apologizes all over the place and, um….”

“She goes home with you again,” his mother guessed. “Fade to black here. So what’s the problem?”

“I feel things for her I’ve never felt for another woman. Not just sexual but real emotion. And I think she feels the same way.”

“But?”

“She won’t tell me her name. I call her Music Lady.”

He expected a shocked cry but instead his mother was silent for a long time, drinking her water, staring over his shoulder as she absorbed his story. He was acutely aware of how absurd the whole thing sounded. She’d probably tell him to run like hell, and if he had a brain that was what he’d do. But Music Lady had become so much a part of him, he knew he’d never be able to do it.

Which was why he was here, in his mother’s kitchen, spilling his guts.

“Well,” she said at last. “This is definitely a new twist for you.”

“Tell me about it.”

More silence. Marc jiggled his leg, impatient for an answer. “So what do you think?” he asked, unable to contain himself any longer.

“Honey, I don’t know what you want me to say.”

His eyes widened. “Are you serious? Hopefully something wise and insightful. Maybe that I’m not a dork or an ass or whatever might be holding her back.”

She laughed. “You’re neither, I can assure you. Your father and I did our best to make sure of it.” Then her face sobered. “You know as a good mother I should tell you to forget about her. A woman who won’t tell you her name has to be hiding something. Maybe something you don’t even want to know about.”

“You think that hasn’t occurred to me?” He rubbed the stubble on his jaw. “I’m not stupid.” His grin was rueful. “At least not much. But I really don’t think she’s married. She wouldn’t be able to spend the