“Mom, can we go, please?” Brendan begged.
“Okay,” Colleen agreed, her laughter ebbing. “Tell Eric thank-you for all he’s done and say goodbye.”
“He’s coming with us,” Jenny said as she charged for the door, Brendan on her heels.
“Yeah, he said we could trick-or-treat near his house on Buena Vista Drive. I’ll bet they have the best candy in that neighborhood....”
Brendan’s voice faded as he scurried down the hallway. She regarded him silently, all the humor gone from her expression.
“It was his idea to go on Buena Vista Drive, not mine,” Eric told her quickly. He was quite certain she was going to pull the old frosty routine with him, as usual, but instead she smiled uncertainly. These occasional displays of her vulnerability were damn near killing him.
“Do you really want to come?”
He reached for his jacket. “I can’t wait.” He spread his hand at the back of her waist, his fingertips caressing slightly. The sweater was every bit as soft as it looked, but he mostly appreciated the feeling of her firm flesh beneath it. He urged her toward the door. For a second or two, she didn’t move, but just looked up at him quizzically. Her long, golden bangs spiked sexily around her eyes; there were a thousand points of green and blue and every shade in between in them.
Finally, she shook her head and headed toward the hallway.
Seeing no signs of protest, Eric gladly kept his hand just where it was. He’d never looked forward to trick-or-treating more in his entire life, childhood included.
It was dark by the time they walked back to her car, Brendan’s and Jenny’s bags stuffed with candy. Children’s laughter and the distant “trick or treat” refrain punctuated the autumn night.
Colleen watched Eric as they strolled down Buena Vista Drive. His chin was tilted down as he listened to Brendan’s story about a boy at school who’d been bullying some of the smaller kids. The topic had come up when they’d caught a glimpse of said boy—Dave Irkness—trick-or-treating across the street with a group of older kids. She’d never heard Brendan mention Dave before and was a little shocked he had so much to say.
Was he opening up to Eric because he was a good listener, or did Brendan just require a male ear to discuss such a boy-related topic? Her son was close to both Liam and Marc, but her brothers had been unusually busy lately. There hadn’t been an opportunity for much one-on-one guy time. At least the kids would be visiting Marc and Mari in Chicago for the Thanksgiving weekend. Hopefully, Brendan could get in a little male bonding with his uncle then.
Even though she felt a little sad her son hadn’t felt comfortable broaching the subject of Dave the bully with her, she was impressed with the way Eric handled the interaction. He affirmed Brendan had been smart in the way he’d dealt with things thus far by standing up for the bullied kids without stooping to Dave’s level. The few questions he directed toward Brendan assured Colleen that the teachers and administration had recently become aware of Dave’s bullying. She’d be sure to follow up quietly in the background with Brendan’s teacher, knowing how much he would hate it if she made a fuss.
“Why don’t you guys come inside and warm up? I have something special I want to show you,” Eric said, turning toward her and Jenny.
Colleen blinked and glanced toward the sleek, modern structure of wood, fieldstone and glass at the end of the driveway. She hadn’t realized where they were while she’d been so focused on overhearing Eric and Brendan’s conversation.
“Can we see Eric’s house, Mom?” Jenny asked eagerly. A chilly lake breeze whipped past them, rustling the remaining leaves on the trees. Jenny shivered.
“I don’t think so, honey,” Colleen said, tucking a lock of dislodged pale gold hair back into her daughter’s surgeon cap. “It’s getting late. We should get home.”
“Aw, Mom,” Jenny moaned, giving Eric a desperate, pleading glance.
“It’ll only take a moment,” Eric promised. “I want to show you what I’ve been working so hard on, burning the midnight oil. It’s Liam and Natalie’s wedding present. It’s kind of a big deal,” he said when Colleen gave him a doubtful look.
“We have to see it, if it’s for Uncle Liam and Natalie,” Brendan said reasonably, as if Colleen would be off her rocker to suggest anything otherwise.
“All right,” Colleen agreed with a laugh that disguised her hesitance. Why did the idea of entering Eric’s home bother her so much?
Eric surprised her, however, by not leading them toward the front door, but instead to a door to the three-car garage. He flipped on the lights.
“There she is,” Eric said.
Brendan immediately let out a stunned wow. Colleen stepped around Eric in order to see what had delighted Brendan.
“Oh…it’s amazing,” she muttered, stepping closer to the mahogany antique boat perched on a trailer. “It’s a Gar Wood,” she breathed out in admiration, referring to the company that had made the finest custom-made, wooden speedboats in the country. She’d lived in the vicinity of Lake Michigan her whole life, and she came from a family that adored all sorts of water sports—swimming, diving and skiing. She knew a priceless boat when she saw one, and she
knew the sleek craft before her not only packed a punch when it came to power, it was a collector’s item to boot.
“Yeah…it’s a twenty-eight-foot Baby Gar. Originally built in 1929. Very rare. She’s named Lucy,” Eric explained as he fondly ran his hand along the hull. “Lucy is a piece of history. Infamous history,” he told Jenny, his dark brows twitching sinisterly, “but history nonetheless.”
“What did Lucy do?” Jenny asked in a whisper, her blue eyes wide.
“She was owned by a cutthroat gang during Prohibition who used her to transport liquor from Canada to Michigan’s Upper Peninsula. Lucy was so fast, none of the police boats could catch her. Not a one. She became a legend in those parts. Don’t get me wrong,” Eric told Jenny, who was looking a little wary as she surveyed the sleek craft. “Lucy has a heart of gold. It wasn’t her fault she was owned by a band of criminals. She became so famous for her quickness and courage, she was acquired by the Mackinaw Island police department after the gang was arrested, and she served the police loyally for fifty years before she was bought by a man named Albert Ravenswood, who restored her to her full former glory, board by board, about fifteen years ago. Then I bought her.”