Darius gestured toward her jumpsuit. “You look great. I never would’ve guessed you were a Catwoman fan.”
Peyton’s laughter faded, but her smile remained. She had perfect teeth. “It was Ramona’s idea.”
He should have known. He’d bet his comic book collection that Ramona had encouraged Peyton to choose the Catwoman costume because the caped crusader was Darius’s favorite superhero.
Darius stilled. He was thinking like his father. The realization turned his stomach. Not everything revolved around him. Maybe Ramona just knew the little professor would make a hot Catwoman.
“Great party, Megan.” Simon’s greeting came from right behind Darius.
So his father had been serious about attending the event this year. Darius forced himself to relax and face the older man. Simon wore a brown cowboy hat, navy shirt, faded blue jeans, black boots, and a brown duster. His red kerchief around his neck completed the Wild West look.
Megan gave Simon a beaming smile. “Thank you, Simon. Great costume.” She sent another shaming look to the other men in the group.
“Thank you. I ordered it on the Internet.” Simon squeezed his way between Darius and the university professor. “And who do we have here?”
Darius made the introductions against his better judgment. “Dr. Peyton Harris, this is my father, Simon Knight.”
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Knight.” Peyton offered Simon a tentative smile.
“Call me Simon.” Was his father flirting with the professor?
“I’m Peyton.”
Tension built in Darius’s neck and shoulders as he observed Simon’s easy exchange with Peyton. Am I actually jealous of my father?
He considered Simon’s costume again. “I didn’t think you’d come.”
“Your mother’s the one who never wanted to come.” Simon slid a glance toward Peyton. “Now that I’m a single man, I can go wherever I like.”
Darius’ stomach turned again. “You’re not single.”
Simon smiled. “Yet.”
A movement in the corner of his eye drew Darius’s attention. Stan Crockett hesitated just outside the group’s circle. Darius waved him closer. “Hey, Stan.”
“Hi, Darius.” Stan nodded at him. He took a deep breath and squared his shoulders before turning to the McCloud women. “Good afternoon, Ramona, Megan. Thank you for giving me another chance with the children’s story time. I apologize for my behavior last year. I won’t disappoint you today.”
“Stan?” Megan blinked her wide cinnamon eyes. “You look great.”
Stan’s nervousness eased and a grin brightened his expression. “Thanks, I feel great. But I didn’t know whether I should wear a costume.”
Megan waved a hand. “A costume isn’t necessary.”
Darius shared a silent exchange with Ean and Jackson.
Megan’s surprise was understandable. The Stan Crockett standing with them today bore very little resemblance to the town drunk who’d sang dirty ditties to schoolchildren last year. His green eyes were clear and direct against his healthy, though pale, skin. His dark blond hair had been washed and professionally trimmed away from his clean-cut, sharp features. Black Dockers and a brown sweater hung loose on his thin, six-foot frame. But the clothes were clean.
Megan continued to stare at Stan. “I don’t mean to pry, but I’ve got to ask. What happened?”
Stan’s chuckle broke in the middle. His gaze circled the other six people in the group. “I’ve joined an alcoholics recovery program, thanks to Darius.”
All eyes turned to him. Darius kept his attention on Stan. “Stan’s been sober for almost a year. His recovery is all thanks to his own hard work.”
“No.” Stan’s reply was firm. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your help and belief in me. You saved my life.”
Their stares bore into him. Darius registered Peyton’s attention more keenly than the others. But he was too self-conscious to return her gaze.
“Well, Darius, I guess you’re not an asshole.” Ramona’s drawl broke his tension.