Finley was killing me. Like his brother, he got his mother’s coloring, dark hair, blue eyes (though Kirb’s eyes were dark brown, like mine and Darrin’s). But he got his father’s everything else, tall, built, strong. The expressions on his face, the way he held his body, the way he moved were all his Dad.

But I wasn’t thinking about that.

I wasn’t thinking about anything, not even Mike’s kids, both of whom looked directly up the stairs at me coming down them.

No, my eyes were glued to the handsome blond man in the foyer as I walked down the stairs of my childhood home to go out on a date with Mike Haines.

I’d wanted this was a ferocity that was consuming when I was an adolescent girl. I’d seen my sister do this time and again and I coveted it so much, seeing her do it was like a form of torture. I’d daydreamed of it day after day and night after night before falling asleep.

And now, thirty-eight years old with my dead brother’s family and Mike’s kids by another woman looking on, I was doing it.

And even with that time and our audience, finally having it, it was no less beautiful than I expected it to be.

Because Mike was standing there wearing jeans as only Mike could wear them and that fabulous brown leather jacket. His gentle, warm, dark brown eyes were tipped up at me with a gentle, warm look on his face saying he liked what he saw. Not only that, we had an audience and I knew they’d melted away and I was the only person Mike could see.

“Hey,” I said when I had one step to go.

“Hey,” he replied then his arm came out my way as an invitation and I took it. I moved into its curve, it wrapped around my waist and my arm returned the gesture.

This, too, came naturally.

I was at his side, my neck twisted, my head tipped back to see his neck twisted and his head tipped down.

“You look good,” he muttered.

“Thanks, you do too,” I muttered back and his mouth twitched.

Then he turned his head, I followed suit and I finally took in his kids.

I shouldn’t have been surprised.

I wasn’t about his boy Jonas. Jonas looked a lot like Mike. He wasn’t the spitting image but he had his father’s coloring and his build. In fact, he was only maybe an inch shorter than Mike. And he had a lot of Mike in his face.

I was surprised about his girl Clarisse. She had Mike’s coloring but either she looked like her mother (which would be disappointing since Audrey, in my head, looked like a she-demon with horns, fangs, acid green eyes and matted hair) or she was all Clarisse.

She was out-and-out beautiful. So much so I’d never seen a girl her age that striking.

“Dusty, this is my son, Jonas. He likes to be called No,” Mike started to introduce, I pulled my eyes from the beautiful Clarisse and looked up at No who was offering a hand to me.

I took it, squeezed and smiled up at him. “Hey, No. Cool to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too,” he replied, grinning an easy but lazy grin that I was certain the high school girls all creamed their pants over. Then he let my hand go, looked to his sister and declared, “Told you Dad would nail a hot babe.”

Clarisse’s eyes got big and her face flushed in a way that was so becoming I felt the desire to find a camera immediately and capture it on film. Then daggers formed in her eyes as she glared at her brother. I wasn’t certain what this meant. I was certain the daggers were imaginary because her brother wasn’t felled instantly.

At the same time I heard Rhonda gasp and Kirby and Finley chuckle.

Mike just said in a warning low, “No.”

He was using that word in two ways and No’s playful gaze went unrepentantly to his Dad then to me.

I winked at him.

His easy, lazy grin turned into a bright, easy, lazy smile.

Yeah, the high school girls creamed their pants for this kid. Totally.

“Right, that’s No and this is my daughter, Clarisse,” Mike carried on.

I stopped looking at No and turned my gaze to Clarisse.

“Hey, honey,” I said softly and put my hand out.

She looked at it then at me, took my hand and murmured, “Hey.”

I squeezed her hand and said right out, “I’m into your Dad so you gotta know I want you to like me but I’m not blowing sunshine when I say you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever seen.”

Mike’s arm got tight around my waist. Clarisse’s hand spasmed in mine as her cheeks again got pink, her eyes got round and not in a pissed off way and her perfect, full lips parted endearingly.

Finally, she visibly and audibly forced out an, “Uh…thanks.”

“Just saying it like it is,” I told her.

Her chin dipped slightly and she looked at me under her lashes, watchful but bashful and it was then I figured, even at fourteen, nearly fifteen, that girl made the high school boys cream their jeans.

If Clarisse didn’t fly right off the rails and become a goth or get a fake ID and a tramp stamp, Mike was just about to enter approximately five years of his life that would include a world of hurt. And this hurt didn’t mean wondering where he went wrong but lamenting that he went very right including the fact he passed on excellent genes.

I dropped her hand and Mike shifted us.

Then he spoke but not to me or his kids, to Rhonda.

“Brought the kids in so they didn’t have to sit out in the cold while we had a chat. Dusty and I need to talk to you and the boys about something quickly before we go.”

I’d forgotten about this. That was how freaked out I was about meeting Mike’s kids. But when he’d phoned me to tell me where we were going for dinner, he’d also told me when he showed he wanted a minute to talk not only to Rhonda but to Fin and Kirb about Debbie.

Weirdly, I did not think of this as Mike horning in on family business. It could be because he’d been around so long, in our lives, Darrin talking about him, Debbie dating him, him meaning what he meant to me, that he kind of felt like he already was family. It could be that after Fin told me what was going down with my bitchface sister and Rhonda not snapping out of it, for the first time in a long time I felt overwhelmed. And Mike not just taking my back but ready, willing and able to wade in to help me shoulder the burden took some of that weight off me. Better, he wasn’t going to delay and I knew this the instant he slid my phone from my fingers last night when bitchface Debbie had the audacity to call me. And then, he didn’t even know what was going on.

“Can we talk in the living room?” Mike asked and I looked to Rhonda to see she looked confused. I looked to Kirby to see he was looking at his brother. And then I looked to Finley to see, not surprisingly, he had his eyes glued to Clarisse.

That was when I looked to my boots and grinned.

“Of course,” Rhonda said softly then moved toward the living room.

Finley shifted, following his Mom. Kirby moved after them. With his free arm, Mike swept it around as an indication to his kids to precede us.

Finally, Mike moved us that way and I looked up at him. The farmhouse was not small, the rooms big and stuffed with years of family accumulated, well…stuff. But still, I didn’t want anyone overhearing anything I had to say. Like payback for Mike helping me take care of my family was going to take a variety of forms he would enjoy.

So I communicated this with my face.

Mike didn’t miss it, his eyes dropped to my mouth, his arm tensed around me and the tip of his tongue came out to wet his full, lower lip.

It was hot.

“Little Dusty” spasmed.

We hit the room and I pulled my shit together. Rhonda was seated on the couch. Kirby was sitting next to her. Finley standing by the arm, strong, tall, keeping his feet, the new man of the family. No and Clarisse were huddled to the side, probably uncomfortable, not knowing what was going on and never having been to the house, not sure of what to do or how to behave.

Mike didn’t delay.

Eyes on Fin, he asked, “Do you still have your mother and brother’s phones?”

“Yes, sir,” Fin answered immediately.

“You talk to them about why?” Mike went on.

Fin nodded.

“Good man,” Mike muttered and looked at Rhonda. “Dusty has shared with me that Debbie’s been in frequent touch to discuss her plans for the future of the farm. She’s also shared with me that Fin has expressed his desire to carry on the family tradition. I know things are very raw right now and, for you, it isn’t the time to be making decisions about your sons’ futures, decisions you can’t unmake. So I’ve asked Debbie not to call you for two weeks.”

Relief washed through Rhonda’s face and I was glad to see it. Contradictorily, I was also pissed because the relief was so keen I knew Debbie had been crawling right up her ass. I knew this already but her expression told me just how bad it was.

But for some reason my eyes went to Fin and he was grinning toward No and Clarisse. My gaze shifted to Mike’s kids and I caught Clarisse’s return smile before her eyes dropped to her shoes.

I looked back to Fin to see he was now looking down at the arm of the couch.

But his grin had not been the grin of a hot boy junior toward a beautiful freshman he thought was a beautiful freshman. It was intimate, knowing and triumphant.

Hers was the same.

Oh my God, something was going on between Mike’s daughter and my nephew.

Mike popped my sister’s cherry. Decades later, we hooked up. And now it seemed like Holliday/Haines history was setting up to repeat itself.

Oh boy, I didn’t know what Mike was going to think about this mainly because he was the one who had the penis in the last teenage scenario and he knew what he did with it.

Before I could think further on whether this was awesome or a complete catastrophe, Mike kept talking.

“Debbie is likely not going to do what I’ve asked, so –”

“She already hasn’t,” Finley cut in and I looked to him to see his eyes on Mike. “Sorry to interrupt, Mr. Haines, but you should know she called Ma three times last night, four today and left five voicemail messages.”

I clenched my teeth and my arm around Mike’s waist got tight.

“Did you take any of those calls?” Mike asked Fin.

Fin shook his head.

“It’s rude not to take a call,” Rhonda put in and I looked at her.

Seriously, no backbone. I loved her to pieces but she had two boys. I didn’t know how but I had to plant a backbone seed in my sister-in-law and coax it to grow. She only had a year and a half with Fin. He was mostly man already, Darrin saw to that like my Dad saw to the same with Darrin. But there was still a ways to go. She had to help me with that. She had to help Fin with that.

I opened my mouth to speak but Fin got there before me.

“It’s rude to call a woman who’s lost her husband and get in her face about important stuff, Ma.”

Rhonda looked up at her son. “I guess so, honey, but –”

“No buts,” he cut her off. “It’s just rude. She shouldn’t be callin’ you about that stuff. Not now. Not next week. Not the week after. Mr. Haines is right. You need a spell. She isn’t givin’ it to you. But you need it and you’re gonna take it.”

Okay, maybe there wasn’t still a ways to go to make Fin a man.

“Fin’s right, Rhonda. It’s rude and you need some time. I asked for that and she didn’t give it. That’s rude too,” Mike stated and Rhonda looked back at him. “If you think you can’t do that because you’re polite then you let your son keep your phone and you let Dusty or the boys answer the one in the house. Finley will give you any messages you need and Dusty or the boys will pass the phone to you if it isn’t Debbie.”

Rhonda’s eyes were working and I settled in because I was used to this and it took time. I didn’t know if we had a reservation or if Mike’s kids were hungry but I hoped the answer was no to both because we were going to be late for the first and his kids were going to have to wait to assuage the last.

Mike, being a good guy, waited. Finley, I saw, was less patient with his Mom and I saw this because he was staring down at her and his impatience was barely concealed.

This was beginning to concern me because I hadn’t been around for long but I’d already noted this on several occasions not to mention during Fin’s phone call.

With Darrin there providing guidance on how to deal with Rhonda, neither of his boys showed frustration with her quirks. Kirby definitely not. Whereas Finley got everything about my brother that screamed man! Kirby got the gentle, sweet parts of him. Kirby had all the time in the world for his Mom. Finley, without his father there to show the way, was losing it.