Jazz’s mother wasn’t stupid. She also knew how to flirt. “I’m sure she does,” she replied, arching one brow. Her eyes sparkled. “She’s always had a weakness for bull riders, too. Their guns are especially impressive.”
He’d brought that one on himself.
Dan’s mother had returned with a tray filled with cups of coffee, cream, and sugar. She’d added a plate of home-baked chocolate chip cookies. His favorite.
“Your daughter is lovely,” she said.
Keira beamed. “Thank you.” She accepted a cup of coffee but refused cream and sugar. She passed on the cookies, too. “As a concerned mother, I couldn’t leave Grand without meeting the man who’s finally captured my daughter’s affections. I want to thank you, Dan. I was beginning to think I might never have grandchildren.”
Dan’s mother’s face was a study of conflict. She’d met Jazz all of once, so talk of grandchildren had to seem premature. He could pinpoint the exact instant she began wondering whether or not he’d been holding out on her. If he didn’t move this performance along, he could kiss the rest of those cookies goodbye.
“No need to thank me,” he said to Keira. “Jazz is only here for another month or so. She’s more interested in her career than in babies anyway, and I can’t say I’m too fond of kids either. The real fun’s been in the trying.”
Both mothers looked appropriately shocked by that statement, although his mom somewhat more so. He’d been raised to treat women with respect. His older sisters had beaten that into him at an early age. And as far as him not liking kids?
That would be news to his nieces and nephews.
“Jasmine is hardly the type of girl to sleep around,” Keira said, her shock quite convincing.
“She could have fooled me,” he replied.
“Dan!” His mother’s sharp tone left no question regarding her shock whatsoever.
“A guy’s got to be careful with his money. Jazz knows where we stand.”
Keira gave up on the motherly angle and went for a more practical, business approach. She regarded him coolly. “A girl’s got to look after herself, too. You’re her boss. If there’s an understanding between you, then she should be compensated for her time, don’t you agree?”
“You mean like a bonus?” Although in legal circles it might be called something else. Either way, his curiosity about Jazz’s mother was satisfied. He was done. “I’m not responsible for Jazz’s paycheck, Mrs. O’Reilly. I provide the facilities for the smokejumper base. She’s not my employee.”
“I see.” The porcelain coffee cup clattered onto a glass side table. Pink lipstick smirched its white rim. “I’m sorry there’s no time for us to get to know each other better, but I have a plane to catch. It was lovely to meet you both.” Her smile encompassed his mother, too, although it no longer reached her eyes. “I wish you well with your recovery, Dan.”
His mother rose, too. “I’ll see you out.”
He couldn’t help drawing comparisons between the two women as they walked from the room. Freda McKillop was probably only ten years older than Keira O’Reilly, but she could easily pass for her mother. Her long hair was gray, her body had grown soft, her clothes weren’t stylish even though she could afford better, and what was more, she didn’t care. As far as Dan could tell, his dad didn’t care either. She’d spent the past few days making Dan all of his favorite foods and fussing over him in general. He was her baby and he kind of liked it.
Best of all, never once had she tried to pimp him out. Jazz was right. His family was wonderful and he’d have them no other way.
Jazz was wonderful, too. It was a shame her own family didn’t appreciate it.
His mother returned alone. She planted her hands on her hips. Her expression was thundercloud black.
“I should probably explain what that was all about,” he said, suddenly wary.
“You don’t have to.” She stared hard at the door she’d just closed as if willing it to spontaneously combust. “That woman is some piece of work.”
He might as well break the news to her now. He locked his fingers behind his head, shifted his leg into a more comfortable position on the pillows, and spoke to the wide wooden beams on the ceiling. “That woman is going to be my mother-in-law, someday.”
His mother’s lightning-filled eyes trickled sparks as she swiveled to gape. “Seriously?”
“Seriously.” Although he had his work cut out for him as far as convincing Jazz of it went. She had no idea how real relationships worked and that she could share her problems with him. She was as stunted as Ryan in that regard—they both had massive trust issues.
The storm clouds dissipated. His mother beamed from ear to ear. “Perfect. I won’t have to worry about sharing you at Christmas.”
*
Jazz hadn’t yetdecided whether or not she should talk to Dan about Ryan. She’d been too busy to give it the thought it deserved. That didn’t mean she wasn’t worried—only that she had other things on her mind, too.
Her team had returned from Southern California and she’d received ego-stoking praise for her input to their operations plan. She’d been tasked with writing recommendations for procedural changes based on her input, as well as drafting a new operations plan for a small fire currently under watch in Montana’s Swan Range. Her new plan had to incorporate protection measures for the habitat corridor of the local grizzly population, because grizzlies were considered an endangered species, although she was more worried about ensuring protection for her team, who were on standby. If they were called in, they’d be working the slopes. Fire moved faster uphill and current weather conditions were a cause for concern. The possibility of missing even one potential safety hazard had her on edge.