Something About Ewe: Something About Ewe / The Purrfect Man

“No way.” Thalia’s denial sounded heartfelt. “We tried and now it’s over. We’ve both moved on.”

“Better you should move back—back home to Colorado,” Lorraine said. “Like Luke did.” She swung her attention his way. “You’re glad to be back, right?”

“Of course, but I’m not glad to be living at home.” He grimaced. “Mom was dead set on it, and since Dad had only been gone a few months when I got here…” He shrugged. “It seemed like a good idea at the time, but boy, have I lived to regret it. I’m planning to get my own place as soon as I have time to look.”

Thalia’s tight expression relaxed into sympathy. “I was sorry to hear about your dad’s death.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It was quite a shock to all of us, but we’re getting along.” Not that it had been easy. Just digging through his father’s far-flung business interests had been a chore in and of itself. Then there was the shock of realizing just how big the estate was. If money could buy happiness, his mother would be a very happy woman, indeed.

Instead of what she was: miserable.

Lorraine reached for a cookie. “You haven’t seen his mother’s new house, have you,” she said to her daughter.

“No.”

“It’s at the end of this road,” Lorraine said darkly. “It’s a darned mansion, is what it is. Of course, it was the Daltons who sold all that land to the developer for Shangri-la. They tried to buy my measly little five acres, and when I wouldn’t sell, they just built around me like I was a tree stump in the middle of a road.”

Thalia glanced questioningly at Luke, who nodded.

“That’s pretty much how it happened,” he agreed. “But it’s not like your mom’s stubborn or anything, or like they didn’t offer her ten times what this land is worth.”

Lorraine burst out laughing. “Oh, you!” she said affectionately. “Thalia’s on my side no matter what you say.”

“I certainly am,” Thalia agreed.

“As a matter of fact,” he said, “so am I. You’ve got a great place here, Mrs. Myers. It’s eccentric, like its owner. I like that in my houses and in my women.” He winked broadly.

Lorraine looked pleased; Thalia merely looked annoyed.

“Really, Luke,” she said, “aren’t you ever serious?”

“Of course. I’m serious now.” And he was. He did like eccentric people, people who did the unexpected and did it with flair. Like Thalia herself on that long-ago day, when she’d done her much-too-young best to seduce him. What he wouldn’t give to have her try that again!

Damn, she needed something to loosen her up. If he didn’t know what she was capable of, he wouldn’t give a second thought to the buttoned-up woman with the disapproving air. Even if she was beautiful. Even if she did occasionally slip and let genuine emotion show on her face.

Ah, hell, maybe he would.

A banging on the front door defused the increasingly taut moment. Lorraine frowned.

“Who the heck could that be?” Rising, she left the room.

Luke waited until she was gone and then said, “You’ve got a heck of a mother there.”

“Don’t I know it.” That could be the first genuine smile he’d seen so far on Thalia’s smooth face.

“Didn’t you ever want to be like her?”

She looked astonished. “Good heavens, no. I love her, but she’s so out of control.”

“And you don’t like that.”

“You know I don’t. I like things neat and tidy.”

“And predictable.”

“That, too.” Her chin lifted. “There’s nothing wrong with predictable.”

“There’s everything wrong with it, Thalia. It’s…it’s limiting.”

“It’s reliable.”

“It’s boring.”

“I could take that personally,” she snapped.

“Everything I’ve said to you is personal,” he agreed. “I—”

Raised voices from the living room intruded. Both of them knew immediately that his mother, Sylvia Dalton, had arrived.

SYLVIA AND LORRAINE MIXED like oil and water, always had and probably always would. Thalia could imagine them as wizened little old ladies—one silver-haired, one orange-haired—sitting side by side in their wheelchairs at some senior citizens home sniping at each other night and day.

Nevertheless, Sylvia had always been nice to Thalia, who jumped up to greet the newcomer. She couldn’t imagine why Luke’s mother was here, but it couldn’t possibly be good.

“Thalia! Darling.” Silvery-blond Sylvia gave Thalia a big hug. Whoever said a woman couldn’t be too blond or too thin or too rich was probably thinking of Sylvia.

“Hello, Mrs. Dalton. It’s good to see you.”

Sylvia straightened and turned. “There you are, Lucas. I saw your car outside and wondered if something was wrong.”

Luke looked as if he considered this a pretty feeble attempt at an explanation. “Nothing’s wrong that I know of.” He looked at Lorraine and daughter. “Anything wrong?”

“Not a thing.” Lorraine glowered. She didn’t look as if she liked having her archenemy invading her turf. The next words seemed dragged out of her. “We’re having cookies and milk if you’d care to join us, Syl.”

Sylvia’s nostrils flared at the casual use of a nickname no one else had uttered in decades. She got revenge by saying, “Don’t mind if I do, Rainy.”

Lorraine rolled her eyes but said nothing, just led the way back to the kitchen. Sylvia fell in behind her while Thalia and Luke exchanged dubious glances before following.

Sylvia sat down and looked at the plate of cookies with disapproval. “I cannot tell you how many of my son’s meals were ruined in this house by cookies and milk,” she announced. “I held you personally responsible, Lorraine.”

“Good reasoning.” Luke picked up another cookie, his third or fourth. “She used to tie me to a kitchen chair and jam cookies down my throat. It was hell.”

Lorraine let out that raucous laughter. “Yes, and everyone can see how it stunted his growth. I think you should call the nutrition police, Sylvia.”

“I would, if I thought it would do any good.”

Luke pushed the plate toward his mother. “If you can’t beat ’em, join ’em, Ma.”

She picked up a cookie, pointedly using her thumb and one exaggerated finger. “I don’t believe I can eat this without something to wash it down.”