“Dad,” Sam said, his eyebrow arching.
“Sam—”
“Come on, you could use the help, and Cora could use a real house to live in. She could be, like . . . our nanny. It’d be win-win,” the kid said. Ten going on thirty-five, apparently. Which made them the exact same age.
Sonofabitch. Cora, their nanny. It was crazy . . . but maybe not as crazy as Slider at first thought. And it wasn’t as if he couldn’t afford it. Kim’s life insurance had given them a decent safety net that Slider only dipped into when he had to. He scrubbed at his face, all his unkempt whiskers suddenly irritating him in a way they hadn’t before.
“At least think about it, Dad,” Ben said, his tone a little defeated.
And even though he knew it was bad for his resolve, Slider looked his son in the face and found those way-too-persuasive puppy-dog eyes in full effect. “Fine,” he said, really wanting to stop talking about the idea of Cora living with him. With them, he meant. “Now what do you want for dinner? I could make up some mac and cheese, or we have stuff for cold cuts.”
“I want to go to the clubhouse for dinner,” Ben said.
“Yeah!” Sam said. “Haven is such a good cook. Can we?”
“Maybe she’ll make her peanut butter cookies. Can we, Dad?” the little one asked with those pleading eyes.
And of course Cora was over there, which they damn well knew. But, honestly, how often did they ask anything of him anymore? And given all they didn’t have—a mother and a father who wasn’t a wreck at the top of that list—they were hard to resist on those rare occasions when they did. “You two are killing me, you know that?”
Sam smirked. “I’ll help you get your shoes on, Ben,” he said, pushing his brother out of the room.
“Damnit,” Slider bit out under his breath. Why did he feel like he’d just been played? And why did his gut tell him it wasn’t over yet?
Chapter 6
With over half of the Ravens’ almost forty active members present, dinner was a loud, raucous affair. Cora was positive she laughed at least as much as she managed to eat, and it was exactly what she needed to distract herself from the odd pit of sadness deep in her gut at the feeling that she was losing her best friend.
You’re being so ridiculous, she thought for the millionth time. And she was. She knew she was. But it wasn’t like she could talk herself out of how she felt.
And so, instead, she laughed. And joked. And teased Phoenix relentlessly. And got up half a dozen times to refill the platters of burgers, dogs, and corn on the cob.
It was on one of the trips from the kitchen that she returned to the most unexpected sight—Slider, in the big mess hall of what had once been an old mountain inn, standing in the doorway with the boys. From what Cora could tell, many of the Ravens were single guys without much in the way of family. A lot of them found their way here for meals throughout the week, particularly on weekend nights and mornings. That was when the two long rows of tables tended to be fullest. But never once in all her time around the clubhouse had Cora seen Slider Evans come to eat. His boys, sure. Early on, she’d watched them here on many occasions until Slider got off work and could pick them up.
But never Slider.
And Cora wasn’t the only one who was surprised.
Because the room noticed him in a wave of sudden, surprised hush that was quickly followed by a chorus of welcome. Chairs moved to make space. The boys’ hair got ruffled a million times. And Ben was grinning ear to ear from all the attention his cast was getting.
She came up behind where Sam and Ben had settled and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. Leaning in, she teased, “You two just can’t get enough of me. Admit it. I’m the coolest ever.”
“Hey, Cora,” Sam said, smiling up at her.
“I missed you,” Ben said, crawling onto his knees on his chair as he turned and wrapped his arms around her. It was awkward and clumsy with the cast, but it was so sweet that Cora’s insides temporarily turned to goo. Across the table, she met Haven’s gaze, and her friend’s expression made it clear that the kid was turning her gooey, too.
But it was someone else’s expression that most captured Cora’s attention. When Ben slid back into his seat, she turned to find Slider staring at her, his gaze so blatant, unabashed, and tortured that for a second she could only stare back.
He frowned and looked away as someone passed him a platter of food. What the heck had that look been about, anyway?