I listen to music as I let my mind wander. A movement in front of me draws my attention and I stop in my tracks.
Clark Moore is walking toward me with…a baby strapped to him. I feel my eyebrows rise as I take it all in.
He’s talking to the baby. I pull my earbuds out of my ears. I can’t hear what he’s saying but he leans down and plants a kiss on the baby’s head and she curls up against him and closes her eyes. She’s holding on to his finger with her little hand. Now, I’m not a huge baby person, but the sight of Clark with this little human is…fucking hot. And the fact that he’s so gentle with her is turning me on in some weird way. I shake my head because now he’s like ten steps away and not paying attention to where he’s going.
I clear my throat and he looks up at me. His eyes widen.
“Megladon?” he asks as though I’m some mirage.
I roll my eyes. “Seriously?”
He grins. “Old habits die hard. Besides, it’s a great nickname.”
“Who’s the sidekick?” I ask, motioning to the sleeping baby. Now, I’m ninety-nine percent sure it’s his niece. She’s bundled in enough pink that even in this dim streetlight I can most definitely tell she’s a “she.” And, I can’t imagine Clark babysits for fun, so it has to be a relative.
“This is Vera, my niece. Kent and Tabby’s little girl,” he says quietly. He kisses her head again. “I’d introduce you properly, but it’s best not to wake the sleeping beast.”
I grin. “Probably a wise decision.”
I look around us. “Are you…babysitting?”
He shakes his head and motions back toward the direction he came from. “We’re over at Di and Garrett’s place. Vera got cranky, so I offered to take her for a walk.”
“Oh.” I look around because I don’t know what else to say to him.
“You want to walk with us?” he asks, his voice still low. Something about his normally deep voice being lowered makes me shiver and not from fear. “You cold?”
I shake my head. “I’m fine and sure.”
I turn and we start walking. Clark points out various things as we make our way around the block. The old Westin house that a young couple just bought and started restoring. The Grambles’ historic brick colonial that used to have a fountain in the front yard. We reminisce about who used to give out the best Halloween candy and which friends lived in which houses and what they are up to now. Eventually, we end back up in front of a purple Victorian house not far from where we started.
“This is Margaret,” he says.
I furrow my brows. “Who is Margaret?” I ask, looking around.
He laughs and points to the house.
“I don’t get it.”
“The house is Margaret.”
“The house has a name?”
He nods. “It’s Garrett and Di’s place. I mean, it was Garrett’s and then Di moved in, but since they are getting married soon, I guess it’ll officially be Di’s home too.”
“When’s the wedding?” I ask.
“Di decided to go with Valentine’s Day because—”
“She’s still obsessed with love?” I finish the sentence.
“Yep.”
“I guess some things never change,” I say as I remember all the times Di made us play Romeo and Juliet while she directed us like we were little toy people or the actors in her own Broadway play.
“Guess not,” he agrees. Vera moves and I see one eye open and then the other. “Uh-oh. Guess I need to keep walking. Vera, say hello to Miss Megan.”
Vera coos and I grin at her. “Hi there, Vera.”
She reaches a little chubby hand out and I shake it. She giggles and gives me a big grin.
“How old is she?”
I can see him doing the math. “Uh, it’s almost the end of September. So, like three-ish months I guess?”
She squeezes my finger, and I look at her.
“I think she likes you. Do you want to hold her?” he asks.
I shake my head.
“Are you still afraid of babies?” he questions with a smirk.
“No,” I say defensively. Babies have always been weird to me.
“Right. Well, I guess I should take her back up there, maybe she’ll fall asleep if I swing with her,” he ponders.
“Good luck with that.”
“See ya, Megladon,” he says as he walks up the driveway.
“Later, Superman.”
And with that, I head back to my parents’. It’s weird how easy it is to talk to Clark, even after all this time. In some ways, it’s like we never stopped being friends, but in other ways, it’s like meeting someone for the very first time. Sexy adult Clark is most definitely not like annoying little boy Clark. And I have no idea how I feel about that. I spend my entire drive home thinking about him and wondering if we might be able to be friends again…someday.
Chapter Twelve
Clark
“Dude, why are you spending so much time at home? It’s your fucking senior year, you should be here partying with us,” Grif laments as I grab my car keys.
“We are celebrating my parents’ anniversary. I sort of have to be there because we are giving them this huge fucking gift,” I explain. In the course of one week, my siblings had put our plan into action. Operation Moore House Makeover was underway. “Plus, after they head out, I’ll have a lot more time. Well, I think I will. I may have to help with some reno stuff.”
“OK, well, have fun, I’m off to see a girl. We might go out later. I hear there’s a party,” Grif states as he straightens his bow tie and walks out the door. I shake my head as I yell to Evan that I’m leaving and head to my car.
I should be going to the frat party tonight, but duty calls. Maybe I’ll stop by it later. I go through my mental checklist of shit I actually should be doing while I make the thirty-minute drive home.
What I am not prepared for as I pull onto my parents’ street is the insanity that my brother most definitely planned.
My mom is going to kill KJ. Kent might as well go into the witness protection program. There is a larger than life-sized cutout of my parents from their anniversary trip to ComicCon surrounded by balloons with sayings like, “The Old Ball and Chain,” “If It’s A Rockin’, Don’t Come A Knockin’,” and my personal favorite, “Welcome to Our Love Shack.” I have no idea where Kent gets these balloons from, but visions of my birthday last year dance through my head as I get out of the car. He had filled the front yard and my parents’ home with several hundred Superman balloons. It was epic.
I walk into the back hall and Kent immediately pulls me to the side.
“Do not tell them,” he says.
I start laughing. “They don’t fucking know yet?” I ask as I motion to the yard.
He shakes his head.
“You do know that Mom is going to murder you, right?”
He grins. “She won’t. She loves me.”
“Oh, OK,” I reply, my voice laced with sarcasm.
“What? It’s true. Don’t be a hater.”
I roll my eyes and continue into the house. The plan is to tell them about their trip over a family dinner. Kent had to call in serious favors with Dad’s boss in addition to arranging everything else.