Her son obviously didn’t have a shy or worried bone in his body, since he was already dragging their luggage ahead of Mick. That’s what she loved about her kid. No fear and full of adventure.
She’d been fearless and adventurous once, too, and look where it had gotten her—pregnant at fifteen.
The double doors flung open, and two people came out, one a tall, slightly thicker version of Mick, with a shock of salt-and-pepper hair, and a slender, petite woman who could not have possibly given birth to Mick. Her red hair was cut short to her chin, and she was just stunning.
“Oh, you’re finally here!” the woman, who must be Mrs. Riley, exclaimed, enveloping Mick in a hug. He picked her up and kissed her cheek.
“Hi, Mom.”
Mr. Riley hugged him, too, and kissed him on the cheek. “Been too long since you’ve been home, Michael.”
Mick grinned, totally comfortable and happy with his parents. Nathan was smiling, too, though obviously a bit bemused at all this affection. Tara laid her hands on her son’s shoulders.
“Come in, come in,” Mrs. Riley said. “It’s so hot outside today. We’ll do introductions inside where it’s cool.”
They walked inside and left their luggage in the entry. The house was definitely older, yet beautiful, all light colors, beige and brown and cream, beautifully decorated, and the rooms oversized with lots of furniture. It looked welcoming and comfortable, not artsy and stiff.
“Come on into the living room and make yourselves at home,” Mrs. Riley said, hugging Tara. “I’m Kathleen, and this is my husband, James, but everyone calls him Jimmy.”
Mick made the introductions. “Mom, Dad, this is Tara Lincoln and her son, Nathan.”
Tara was enveloped in a hug by both of Mick’s parents. Jimmy shook Nathan’s hand, and Kathleen hugged him. “Welcome to our home,” Jimmy said.
“Jimmy, bring out the iced tea I set in the refrigerator. I’m sure everyone’s thirsty. We’ll go sit down.”
Mick took Tara’s hand and led her to an oversized chair for two. Nathan took a seat on the sofa by the window, and Kathleen sat in a chair covered by a quilt.
“Your home is lovely, Mrs. Riley,” Tara said.
“Call me Kathleen, or I’m not likely to answer you,” Kathleen said.
“All right,” Tara said with a laugh. “Kathleen.”
“Thank you. Mick and Gavin keep trying to buy us some big new fancy house, but we love this old place and don’t want to move. We had the kids in this house. It’s home to us and always will be.”
“Besides, it will give me something to work on when I retire,” Jimmy said as he brought the tray filled with tea. Kathleen passed out glasses, and Tara took a long swallow.
“And when’s that going to be, Dad? Never?”
Jimmy laughed. “Who’s going to run the bar for me? Jenna?”
“She does that now, doesn’t she?” Mick asked.
“She gives lip to all the customers.”
“And they love every insult she hurls at them,” Kathleen said.
“Jenna is my sister,” Mick explained. “She bartends at Riley’s, our family bar and restaurant. Mostly a bar, but we also serve sandwiches. Big sports bar, really.”
“Oh, fun. So do you have multiple screens to show all the games?” Nathan asked.
Jimmy nodded. “Can’t miss my boys’ games while I’m workin’, now can I? And it’s a big draw for customers. We have the main big screen over the bar, then multiple small screens to show whatever else is on. Baseball, football, hockey, basketball, NASCAR, soccer. You name it, we’ll have it on.”
“Awesome.” Nathan turned to Tara. “Will I be able to get in?”
Tara lifted her gaze to Jimmy. “I don’t know. Can he?”
“Sure, as long as he doesn’t go to the main bar because he’s not twenty-one. But he can sit in the restaurant portion. There’s even some video games in there for the kids.”
“Rockin’,” Nathan said. “Can’t wait to see it. So do you have all your sports trophies from when you were in high school and college and stuff?”
“You mean the hall of fame room? Yeah, unfortunately, it’s all here in the shrine.”
“The shrine?” Tara asked, laughing.
“It’s not a shrine,” Kathleen scoffed. “What do you want us to do with the trophies and awards you and Gavin won? Box them up and throw them in the attic?”
“Actually, that’s a great idea. I can take care of that while I’m here.”
Kathleen waved her hand. “Don’t be ridiculous.” She turned to Nathan and Tara. “Would you like to see them?”
“Yeah!” Nathan said.
“I’d love to see them.” Tara stood.
Mick pulled at her hand. “You don’t have to go see them.”
“I want to.”
“Ugh.”
She laughed and followed Kathleen upstairs.
Mick was right. It was like a shrine, but it was very sweet. There were trophies and pennants dating back to grade school. Everything from peewee football and T-ball all the way to the awards both the brothers had won in college, tucked away in what looked to be a room now used as an office, since there was also a desk and a computer.
The pride on Mick’s parents’ faces was evident as they stood by and beamed while they pointed out what each of the guys had won each particular trophy for. Mick, meanwhile, just looked damned uncomfortable, which Tara also found incredibly charming. There were also trophies for Jenna for gymnastics, dance, field hockey, and softball.
Clearly an athletic family.
“Wow. All your stuff is just bangin’ awesome,” Nathan said, ogling Mick’s college awards. “You worked hard, huh?”
“I did.”
“He also maintained a three-point-eight grade point average at the University of Texas,” Kathleen said. “We were more proud of his grades than we were of all the trophies in this room.”
Tara mouthed a silent thank-you to Kathleen over the top of Nathan’s head. Kathleen winked.
“Yeah, but you don’t really need to worry about that once you make money playing football.”
Mick slung his arm over Nathan’s shoulders. “Not true, my man. You gotta have the smarts to get into college in the first place. They might want to draft a decent player, but they don’t want someone who’s going to struggle to make the grades, because it makes their job harder. Second, do you know how many football players piss away all the money they make in the NFL, and then when their careers are over they end up dead broke?”