A Crazy Kind of Love by Maureen Child Read Free Book Online

stopped, leaned forward, and let the kitchen chair slap down off its rear legs to thud onto the linoleum. “I’m not making you nuts, Jo. You were
born
that way.”
    “I was born,” she retorted, “an only child. Would that it had stayed that way.”
    “Thanks very much,” Sam piped up.
    “See? Now you’re insulting the sister who likes you,” Mike said.
    Jo smirked at her. “Clever. Just”—she shook her head—“shut up.”
    “God, take a pill, will ya?” Mike should have known better than to race home to get to this meeting. After all, when Karma started going bad on you, things usually just went right to hell.
    And hadn’t Karma been kicking her ass for months now? Ever since Lucas Gallagher strolled into town and snatched her dreams away?
    “If you guys are through . . .” Sam held up both hands and stepped into her traditional role of peacemaker. No matter how many times Mike had warned her that it was usually the innocent bystander who tookone between the eyes, Sam just couldn’t seem to help herself. “I want to get this stuff done—Jeff and I are taking Emma out to Rosie’s tonight.”
    Rosie’s Café. A great little place, sitting right on the coast road, overlooking the rocky cliffs leading down to the ocean. And right now, a night at Rosie’s sounded much better than the frozen dinner Mike had planned on. “Great idea,” she said quickly, “I’ll join you.”
    “You’re not invited,” Sam said and reached out to pat her hand.
    “Fine.” Mike sniffed, pretending to be insulted. “I’ll call Terrino’s and order pizza.”
    “Now that the menu’s settled . . .” Jo said, and picked up one of her gazillion file folders.
    Mike leaned back on the kitchen chair again, pushing it until it rested on its two rear legs, then she rocked idly and watched Jo scowl at her. But quickly enough, she pretended to ignore Mike and the squeaky chair and get right down to business.
    The woman could give God an ulcer when it came to organization. Seriously, Mike mused, if the universe ever got too much for the Big Guy to handle, he could just turn the whole mess over to Jo—who would have the world whipped into shape in no time.
    She had a file folder for every job and every estimate they’d ever made tucked away in the Marconi family vault—a big steel file cabinet they kept stored in the workshop out back.
    “Aren’t we going to wait for Papa?” Sam asked.
    “Oh, crap.” Mike let the chair slap down hard again and then leaned her forearms on the table. “Forgot totell you. Papa went to San Francisco for the weekend. With
Grace
.”
    Jo’s hands stilled on the sheaf of papers. She shifted her pale blue eyes to Mike. “What do you mean,
with
?”
    “I think I mean just what you think I mean.”
    “Well, that was clear,” Jo muttered, “thanks.”
    “I think she’s right,” Sam said.
    “She’s almost never right,” Jo argued.
    “Feel the love,” Mike quipped and reached for the bowl of fall apples in the center of the table. Grabbing one, she took a huge bite, then talked around it. “I know what I saw, and I’m telling you, something’s up over there.”
    Jo snorted. “Please.”
    “Papa and Grace have been seeing each other.”
    Mike and Jo both turned to stare at Sam, who shifted uneasily in her chair, then cupped both hands around a cardboard cup of coffee from the Leaf and Bean. That latte had to be ice-cold by now, but Sam’s fingertips danced up and down the sides of the cup as if it were boiling hot.
    Outside the cozy kitchen, wind screamed in off the ocean and slapped at the house as if trying to find a way to sneak inside. Under the table, Bear snorted, grumbled, then shifted until his heavy bulk was stretched out across the toes of Mike’s boots. She sighed and got used to the pain because Bear was just too damn old to be nudged off. Besides, she had bigger things on her mind at the moment.
    “You know something.” Mike narrowed her gaze.
    “Spill it.” Jo