Robby (Cooper Construction Book 3) Page 2

  Feeling like an intruder on their private moment, he looked away and saw Kane and his wife, Amanda, sitting at the table in the breakfast nook. He paused, his eyes lingering on Robby beside them. Dark, wavy hair that was forever falling into his eyes, like it was right now. Fair skin, rangy shoulders.

  He looked so comfortable here. Must be nice.

  Matt never had many friends growing up. Not until Patty came along freshman year: a comrade, a confidant, and an avenging angel all in one petite package.

  How many times had the guys in school called him a pussy? A pansy? A loser? Because he kept to himself. Because he didn’t want to play football. Because he hated jeans and T-shirts.

  How many times did his classmates accuse him of thinking he was too good for everyone else?

  Patty had stopped their shit quickly.

  He shook off thoughts of his son’s mother.

  Robby was lucky. There was no chance sex was going to ruin his friendship with Kane or Brick.

  The guy was nice, even if he always seemed a little nervous. He wasn’t like anyone else Matt had ever met. He brought to mind spun sugar: a sweet, beautiful thing, but one with an underlying brittleness. In the wrong hands, he could be easily broken.

  Matt rolled his eyes at how ridiculous the idea sounded in his own head. He could just imagine how dumb it would come across if he said it out loud. One of many reasons he kept most of his thoughts unspoken…less chance of embarrassing himself.

  Robby scrambled from his seat and hurried toward him. “Thank goodness! I need a break from baby talk.”

  “Ain’t nothing wrong with talking about my baby,” Kane grumbled, and his wife laughed at his cranky tone.

  “Sorry, Robby. I forget my pregnancy isn’t quite as exciting to other people as it is to me.” She tilted her head toward Matt. “You’d better make your escape while you can, though. Liv and I were just about to catch up on Sons of Anarchy, and you know how it gets Kane all riled up.”

  “M.C.s are not like that,” he gritted.

  Matt scratched his head. “I thought they canceled SOA years ago.”

  Robby leaned into the fridge and pulled out a beer, offering it to Matt. “Oh, they did. These two are binge watching it on Netflix just so they can talk about it in front of Kane and get under his skin.”

  Amanda laughed and laced her hand with her husband’s. “Yes, well, that and Charlie Hunnam’s abs. Jax spends an inordinate amount of time without a shirt on. Must be very hot in Northern California.”

  Liv fanned her face with her hand in an exaggerated wave. “I get very hot just watching!”

  The women were still laughing when Robby tugged Matt back toward the living room, where the other guys stayed glued to the screen. “I’m not really into sports,” Robby murmured, “but if you want to watch, I don’t mind.”

  Matt shook his head. He didn’t even know what sport was played this time of year.

  Robby led him out to the front porch, to a swing he hadn’t noticed when he’d arrived. It was made of heavy wood, which made sense if it had to support a guy like Brick.

  Taking a deep breath of the night air, Robby closed his eyes briefly, then took a sip of his iced tea. “I’m not really much of a beer fan, either. Maybe next time, they’ll let me make a batch of Rum Punch. I don’t drink these days, but I’d be happy to make them for everyone else.”

  Matt had never tried Rum Punch before. He wanted to ask what was in it, but the question seemed dumb. He took a swig of his beer instead. It was bitter and crisp. Whatever was in Rum Punch had to be better.

  “I always loved trying new mixed drinks back in the day. My ex used to keep a fully stocked bar. When I was there by myself, I used to go on 1001-cocktails-dot-com to find random stuff to make. It passed the time.” Robby shuddered. “I only tried one with Jägermeister, though. Once was enough.”

  Matt made a mental note. He’d heard of Jager but had never tried it.

  As promised, Robby did enough talking for both of them. “I liked to take the crazy-sounding drink names to the bar and try to stump the bartenders.” He sipped his tea. “I got a few weird looks, but they always came back with the drink I asked for. And they always got a good tip for their trouble.”

  They sat in companionable silence for a couple of minutes, rocking gently on the swing. This was the best time of year for weather in Atlanta, the nights just cool enough to remind folks summer hadn’t arrived yet. The neighborhood was quiet; only the faint sound of the TV hinted they weren’t alone.

  Robby’s usual nerves seemed muted, and strangely, it helped Matt relax a little too. “I’ve, uh, been meaning to ask, I mean—you think there’s any way I might be able to earn to some extra cash at work?”

  Robby tilted his head to the left. “You need money?”

  His face burned. “Yeah, I was hoping there might be some extra shifts I could pick up, since we’re moving into the spring season.”

  The tight lines on Robby’s shoulders relaxed. “Oh, yeah, that makes sense.”

  “I, uh, have a little boy.” How much should he say?

  Robby rubbed the back of his neck. “I know. I’ve, uh, heard you on the phone with your girlfriend a few times.”

  “She’s not my girlfriend.” The declaration came out sharper than he intended.

  But instead of making Robby flinch, it made him grin. He held one of his hands up in supplication. “Sorry. Ex-girlfriend.”

  He didn’t bother to correct him. It was a fair assumption. “Yeah, well. Things are tight. If there are any extra shifts—”

  “I’m sorry. No overtime, man.” Robby paused and rubbed his chin. “If you’re looking for some extra cash, though, maybe you should look into a side job…like bartending.”

  Just the idea made his beer go down the wrong way. He broke into a coughing fit, and when he finally came up for air, Robby watched him with a half grin. When he was able, he choked out, “Are you kidding?”

  Robby rolled his eyes. “Why? Because you’re shy?” He didn’t wait for an answer. “The best bartenders only have to do two things: listen and make drinks.”

  “I can’t make drinks.” The most he had ever done was mix a seven and seven for his mom.

  “Weren’t you listening to my story?” Robby pulled out his phone. “Every drink ever created has the recipe online.” His fingers flew across the screen before he lifted the device and turned it outward. It had links for drink recipes from top to bottom.

  Matt shifted uncomfortably. “I don’t know.”

  “Well, I think you’d be perfect, at least in a smaller place on a slow-shift to start. Follow the directions, flash your gorgeous smile now and then, and you’ll barely have to say a word.” Robby shrugged. “Just my two cents. Think about it.”

  He would.

  A few more minutes of silence. A cricket chirped somewhere near the porch. The smell of garlic bread meant dinner would be ready soon.

  Robby inhaled deeply. “I love eating here. Liv can really cook. It’s a nice break from my TV dinners in front of the PlayStation.”

  Matt perked up. “You’re a gamer?”

  “Am I a—heck yeah. My PlayStation is my baby. I’m online all the time.” Robby caught the interest on his face. “What about you? You play?”

  He nodded. “Yeah, but not so much online, though.”

  “That’s half the fun! What do you do? RPGs? First-person shooters?” Robby squinted his eyes, giving him an assessing look. “GTA?” He tacked the last one on the end, almost like an afterthought.

  “I like the first-person shooters these days. Battlefield and Call of Duty, mostly.” This was something he could talk about. “But when I was younger, I was all about the RPGs. Final Fantasy and stuff. The bigger the world, the better.”

  “Have you tried the VR? It’s just like being inside the story.” Robby’s voice was a cross of wistfulness and awe.

  He chuckled. “Did you catch the part where I told you I’m strapped for cash? I can’t afford a VR
headset. I don’t even have a regular headset with a microphone.”

  “What?” Robby clutched some imaginary pearls. “We can’t have that. Look, I have an extra headset—two, actually. They’re not in perfect condition, but they’ll get the job done. I’ll bring one to work tomorrow.”

  Oh, no. How had he become a charity case? He shook his head. “I can’t accept.”

  “They’re not the fancy ones. I’m talking the nineteen-ninety-nine variety from Walmart. They’re just collecting dust in my apartment. The backup headset to my backup headset.” The breeze rustled a lock of Robby’s brown hair into his eyes.

  Robby had great hair. Dark and thick with just a little bit of wave.

  He blew the hair out of his eyes and kept talking. “To tell you the truth, it’s kind of freeing to just talk to people I’ll never meet in real life. Or you don’t have to talk at all. Either way, it’s a lot less lonely than sitting by myself in my apartment for another night, you know? And, hey, we could totally play together online. I think it would be a blast.”

  For sure. There was no time to decide whether to say so out loud, though, because Will poked his head out the door.

  “Dinner’s ready. Liv says there’ll be cake too, so get your asses in gear. She won’t let us start without you.” He didn’t wait for an answer, just disappeared back inside the house.

  With a grin, Robby saluted Will’s back. “Guess we’ve got our marching orders.”

  The fettucine and garlic bread tasted every bit as good as they smelled. Butter dripped from the bread, and the garlic gave it a little bit of bite. Plus, Liv had broiled some parmesan cheese into a crispy top. The alfredo sauce coated the pasta and small pieces of chicken inside. Matt couldn’t remember the last time he’d enjoyed such an amazing meal.

  Though he’d never tell his mother.

  Laughter and conversation drifted all around him. He felt included but never pressured to talk. It was…kind of perfect.

  Liv served cake, as promised, rich and chocolatey. By the time he finished eating, all he wanted to do was crawl into his bed and sleep for a year. He rarely went anywhere after work, other than his Tuesday evening computer science class.

  He bowed out after half a piece of cake and a chorus of warm goodbyes.

  On the way home, he scrolled through the night in his head, reliving Kane’s bad jokes, Amanda’s toast to her husband, and the easy camaraderie among Robby, Brick, and Kane.

  He envied the simple friendship the three men shared. He’d never made friends easily, especially with other guys. The only person he’d ever really clicked with had been Patty, and their friendship had soured after they fell into bed together. He might have connected with his college roommate, Shawn, if he’d paid a little more attention and acted like a friend when the guy had needed it most.

  But he couldn’t turn back the clock. Couldn’t fix either of those mistakes now. He could only move forward.

  Maybe tending bar. Robby thought he could do it, but could he really? It’s not like he could walk away if people expected him to talk too much.

  But what had he said?

  Just follow directions and flash your gorgeous smile.

  The train of his thoughts came to a crashing halt, and the words gorgeous smile kept repeating over and over again. His heart sped up.

  Surely, it was one of those things people said.

  Right?

  It had to be.

  He reached for the radio and cranked the volume, bobbing his head to the music. Stupid to let his thoughts drift this way. Robby was his co-worker. Maybe he could even be a friend.

  God knows I need one of those.

  Matt’s phone buzzed, and he gripped the steering wheel, stuffing down the anxiety the familiar ringtone always inspired.

  Patty. It was only ever Patty who’d call him this late.

  Dangling their son in front of him like a carrot on a string.

  The thought stilled his hand for a second as he reached to pull the phone from his pocket, but only for a second. Even if she only called him at the most inopportune times, he wouldn’t risk missing a chance to see Jimmy.

  His son always came first. So he always answered when she called…and he always would.

  She didn’t even wait for him to say hello. The moment he swiped to answer the call, she was already talking. “You need to come pick up the baby.”

  “This late?” He kept his voice neutral.

  She sighed into the phone. “Yes, this late. They called me in to work.”

  Ah, the new job. She’d been cryptic about her new gig when she started a few weeks back. Said talking about it would jinx it. More likely, she took pleasure in holding out on him.

  “Are you coming or not?” She asked it like his answer didn’t matter. “If you’re too busy, my mom will be more than happy to take him, but don’t expect her to hand him over when it’s more convenient for you.”

  True story. The only person who hated him more than Patty these days was her mother. If he missed this chance to pick up Jimmy, there was no telling when Patty would offer again.

  “I’m on my way.” He hung up quickly and turned the car toward her apartment.

  For the millionth time, he imagined how much better his life would be if he could just get custody of Jimmy all to himself. He’d let Patty see him, of course, but no more of this twisted back and forth where he could only see his son when it was convenient for her.

  A judge would make the decision soon enough.

  He’d saved every cent he could. Paid an attorney to force a paternity test to legally establish himself as Jimmy’s father. Then, he’d paid even more to file for primary custody.

  Mr. Bolton was the best lawyer he could afford, but the man had warned him not to get his hopes up too high. He’d said, in most cases, a judge would side with the mother.

  Poor Patty. Had a baby with the man she thought was her best friend, the man who not only let her think they’d get married and backed out but wanted to take their child away from her to boot.

  She turned on the tears, and everyone wanted to comfort her. And, somehow, he became the villain in this piece. He’d loved Patty once, but never the way she wanted, and she’d never forgiven him for it. He blamed himself for the destruction of their friendship, but he couldn’t let it excuse her behavior.

  Pulling to stop at a red light, he squeezed his eyes closed.

  He’d lost things too.

  Three and a half years on scholarship at Georgia Tech had left him so close to his dream. He needed only nine more credit hours—basically, three classes—to finish his bachelor’s degree in architecture. The dumbest part: they were all electives. He’d already finished with the core curriculum, but he needed a full-time job to pay for diapers and food and daycare.

  The scholarship he’d earned had only applied if he was a full-time student, and he couldn’t carry a full course load while working forty hours a week. Off scholarship, it cost hundreds of dollars to take an individual class at night. He’d finally saved up enough to take one this semester. The computer science class required very little studying or effort. Math and sciences had always come naturally. After this, he had only two classes left, and really, they could be anything. If his life hadn’t taken a turn, he’d be finished by now. A familiar pang of regret thumped in his chest.

  Not for having Jimmy, but for the timing of it all. Just a few more months and he could’ve been safely ensconced in an internship instead of hefting beams and nailing up sheet rock.

  He shook his head against the familiar thoughts as he turned onto Patty’s street. His dreams weren’t over. They’d just slowed down. It wasn’t a question of if he’d finish school…but when.

  Jimmy had to be his priority, though. The custody battle meant he needed money for the lawyer, a good home, and a steady income. His dreams had to take a backseat, and it would be worth it if it meant more time with his boy.

  When he pulled up outside the apartment complex, two minutes remain
ed in the fifteen-minute window it usually took him to get there. Still, she already stood in the parking lot, a crying child perched on her hip.

  The little boy reached for him the moment he stepped close. Tears stained his chubby toddler cheeks.

  “What’s wrong?” Matt swept Jimmy into his arms and rocked him gently.

  Patty rolled her eyes. “He’s teething, Matt. Stop overreacting.” She thrust the diaper bag at him and flipped her braids behind her right shoulder.

  His heart lurched at her venomous tone, and he wished for the thousandth time he could’ve been the man she’d wanted him to be. Her life—their lives—would be so different now if he could be like everyone else. If he could just feel some attraction, some desire for her…for anyone. But he never felt a spark. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t force it, not beyond the one night that had resulted in Jimmy. And trying to fake it afterward had only made things worse.

  He sighed. “You ever going to tell me about this new job of yours?”

  “Back off. We’re not friends anymore. My life is my business.” She turned and headed toward the curb where the bus came to a stop. Not so much as a second look at him or the little boy, whose cries had mellowed to an occasional hiccup.

  It wasn’t that she didn’t love Jimmy. Matt knew she did. It was the boy’s father she hated.

  “Da!” Jimmy proclaimed, his sticky hand patting Matt’s cheek.

  He hugged the baby close. “Yeah, Jimmy. Daddy’s here.” His heart settled, breathing in the smell of his son.

  He strapped Jimmy into his car seat and headed back to his apartment. There, he’d have everything to meet his son’s needs, from a bath to a sippy-cup to his favorite stuffed giraffe.

  Jimmy whined from the backseat—a telltale precursor to more unhappy tears.

  “Hey, buddy.” Matt put as much cheer into his voice as he could. “Wanna sing with Daddy?”

  The whining stopped.

  Singing was never one of his favorite pastimes, but he’d run through Piedmont Park in a chicken suit to make his son laugh. Being Jimmy’s father was the most important, most rewarding, thing in his life. “Old MacDonald had a farm.”