“Does he still have ties to the GSP or the local PD?” Deacon asked.
With a shrug, I replied, “I don’t really know. I think he’s enjoying his retirement a lot. He has a cabin in Blue Ridge, and he and my aunt spend a lot of time there.” Gazing down the table at him, I smiled. “Why all the interest in my uncle’s law-enforcement ties?”
Deacon swiped his mouth with a napkin. “I was hoping he might help me with a speeding ticket.”
“It’s judges—not patrolmen—who fix tickets.”
He winked at me. “Good to know.”
Something told me he didn’t have any tickets that needed fixing. He was more concerned with how Uncle Jimmy might affect his club. Wanting to steer the subject away from Uncle Jimmy, I said, “This is delicious. You’re a wonderful cook, Mrs. Malloy.”
“Call me Beth. And thank you so much.”
“I should probably hire you to teach me to cook. I’m afraid that I’m not very good at it.”
Beth smiled. “I would be happy to teach you. But there would be no charge. It would be a pleasure.” Gazing around the table, she said, “Since I wasn’t blessed with daughters, I’d love to be able to pass on my knowledge.”
“You got a granddaughter,” Deacon protested.
“That’s right. I do. But it’s going to be a few more years before she’s ready to be unleashed in the kitchen.”
Willow paused in gnawing on a piece of ham to eye Beth. “But you said I’m your bestest cooking helper.”
“And you are, sweetheart. But you’re going to stay a helper for now rather than the cook.” At Willow’s crestfallen expression, Beth said, “You need to put all your energy into your schoolwork and being a ballerina.”
Tilting her head to the side, Willow mulled over Beth’s response. Then, as she perked up, Willow turned to me. “Can my leotard have sparkles on it?” she asked.
“I don’t see why not.”
“And I want a pink tutu. Do I have to wear white tights or can I have pink?” As she rambled off more and more questions, her plate remained untouched.
“Finish your green beans,” Deacon instructed gruffly, showing a rare moment of his paternal side.
“Okaaay,” Willow mumbled.
Deacon’s brows rose while fire flashed in his eyes. “What did you say?”
Willow tucked her head to her chin, refusing to meet his eye. “Okay.”
“You say ‘yes, sir’ when answering me.”
“Don’t be so hard on her,” Rev said.
Deacon pinned Rev with a hard glare. “Don’t tell me how to parent my kid.”
“She’s only five, Deacon,” Rev challenged.
At the rising voices of her father and uncle, Willow began shrinking down in her chair. Desperate to soothe her distress and ease the building tension between the brothers, I blurted, “So which one of you Malloy boys is going to take me for a ride on his motorcycle? ’Cause, you know, I’m a motorcycle virgin.”
Rev’s fork clattered noisily onto his plate as he stared, dumbfounded by my outburst, while Deacon’s finger froze in midpoint at Rev. Bishop started coughing on the large bite of corn bread he’d swallowed. He reached for his iced tea and drained it in a long gulp.
“I do believe my request has rendered you all speechless,” I mused.
“I think it’s hearing the word ‘virgin’ come out of your lips,” Bishop replied with a cheeky grin.
“What’s a virgin?” Willow asked.
I giggled at the look of horror that crossed all three Malloy brothers’ faces at Willow’s question. “Something you’ll find out about when you’re older,” I answered, letting the boys off the hook. My response elicited a sigh of relief from the men and a nod of approval from Beth.
For the remainder of the dinner, Willow concentrated on finishing her plate rather than asking any more questions. When she was done, she glanced cautiously at her father. “Did I do good, Deacon?” Her voice quavered a little as she waited for praise. I wondered why she didn’t call him “Dad.” I guessed it was something she was working up to.
At her question, Deacon’s gruff expression momentarily softened. “Yeah, you did good, kid. Now go take your plate and rinse it off.”
As Willow started for the sink, my gaze locked on Deacon’s.
“I know I may have seemed … a little harsh about her eating, but she was pretty malnourished when she came here.”
Knowing the situation Willow had lived in with her mother, I wasn’t too surprised by that information. “I agree that she needs to eat her vegetables and she needs to show you respect. My father asked the same thing of me when I was Willow’s age.” I offered him a smile. “I think maybe your delivery could use just a bit of work, but other than that, you’re doing very well.”
A smirk curved across his lips. “Thank you, Miss Evans.”
“You’re welcome.”
Beth rose from her seat. “All right, boys. It’s time to clean up.”
A chorus of groans echoed around the table. “At least let me do the dishes since you were so kind to invite me to dinner.”
Beth smiled. “And deprive my sons of the task?”
I laughed at Bishop’s aggravated grunt and Deacon’s roll of his eyes. “No, I wouldn’t want to do that at all.”