Calling His Bluff by Amy Jo Cousins Read Free Book Online Page A

grateful glance as he scooped two-year-old Isabelle onto
     his lap, pulling out one of the baseballs he always had on hand somehow to start a
     tame game of underhand toss with four-year-old Daniel. “Thanks.”
    “My children, huh? Were they that bad?” Tyler asked as he poured the wheat-pale wine
     into a glass and swirled it. He took a sip, nodded and passed it to his wife, who
     took a rather longer swallow before answering.
    “I should never have told Chef Paul about Take Your Kids to Work Day.” Paul was her
     partner in the crowning jewel of her restaurant conglomerate. Grace narrowed her eyes.
     “He just happened to be working on a new dessert menu today.”
    “And?” After a couple of decades, J.D. could read his friend’s face at a glance. Tyler
     loved listening to his wife, even when she was like this, a little cranky, a little
     frustrated and in dire need of five minutes to vent before she could relax. He shook
     his head.
    “Have you ever seen a couple of toddlers after they’ve taste-tested three cakes, two
     ices and a torte?” she asked. “It’s like having two overgrown hamsters on speed, only
     you’ve lost their exercise wheel, so they just keep running around the room.”
    Sure, Grace was a sweetheart, no question, and a beautiful woman, but Tyler was
grinning
for crying out loud. Charmed to his toes by her cheerful kvetching. And J.D. had
     to admit that once he might once have envied the joy his friend took in his family.
     After all, hadn’t he spent most of his childhood wishing his own family was normal?
    Yeah, well, he’d been there, done that, and bought the T-shirt. It wasn’t until after
     you got home that you found out that the colors of your new purchase bled into mud
     the first time you tried to throw it in the wash. Thanks, but no thanks. It was abundantly
     clear to him that he’d do better to keep his romantic entanglements to an emotional
     minimum. It would lower his chances of getting kicked in the teeth, at least. Or of
     busting his other tibia. Playing honorary uncle was enough.
    J.D. was watching Daniel dive headfirst under a table, chasing the baseball after
     a missed catch, when he noticed that Grace and Tyler had stopped talking.
    He glanced over his shoulder.
    She must have lunged over the bar at him. Grace’s hands were wrapped around her husband’s
     neck as they shared what looked like a mind-blowing kiss. Feeling like a Peeping Tom,
     he turned back to the kid.
    But he couldn’t block out their voices.
    “Think your mom will want to babysit tonight?”
    “She can be bribed.”
    Tyler’s voice was husky and Grace’s laugh scraped low in her throat. Okay, so maybe
     he could understand the appeal of
that,
but Grace was one in a million. J.D. decided he’d wait for their conversation to
     start up again before he turned around. After a couple of minutes, though, the wait
     was getting ridiculous, so he settled for calling out to the ceiling, “Jeez guys,
     get a room, will ya?”
    Daniel trotted over and rested the baseball, clutched in his two small hands, on J.D.’s
     thigh. “Yeah, Mommy. Get a room.”
    The kid would probably be using
that
phrase again. He giggled as his parents yelled at J.D.
    “Thanks a lot, Damico.” Grace wadded up a bar napkin and bounced it off his head with
     a precision throw.
    He winked and grinned. “Any time, Grace. That’s what’s so nice about being ‘Uncle’
     J.D. I get to hand them back to you just when they’re getting impossible.”
    “I should be so lucky.”
    But she belied her words when she grabbed her daughter off his lap and proceeded to
     torment her by blowing raspberries on her round belly. J.D. slipped his camera out
     and framed the shot in an instant, shoving his Nikon back in his pocket before Isa
     could stop giggling. He kneaded his thigh when his hands were empty again. Losing
     the cast had been frigging awesome and the therapy was helping, but he still ached.
     “Wanna babysit