They filled the last couple of bags and stood looking at them.

“I’ve got it from here,” Parker told her.

“Where are these going?”

“Behind your place.”

“I’ll grab the wheelbarrow.”

“You’ve helped a lot already.”

Erin started walking across the field to where she’d left the barrow the day before. “It’s called exercise. My body can use it now that I’m sitting at my computer all day.”

“If you insist.” Because it wasn’t like she could offer Erin a break on the rent.

She couldn’t offer Erin a break on anything.

Colin stood up on the ladder, helping his father remove the spare tables his mother used at Christmas to seat everyone in the same space.

“You know we’re going to get some rain in the next few days,” his father said.

“Yeah, I’ve been watching the news.”

“I don’t need some overtanned network jockey telling me it’s going to rain.”

His dad had crashed his motorcycle at work over a decade ago that resulted in a broken femur and becoming the family meteorologist. When the barometer dropped, his dad felt it.

“You should take your show on the road, Dad.”

Colin lowered the folding table to his father and went back for the second one.

“Your girlfriend is expecting some trouble at her house, right?”

He brushed aside a cobweb and reached over the dust-filled plywood and grabbed the edges of the table. “We’re prepared.”

“You be sure and check on her. My leg hasn’t ached this bad since the accident.”

“I will.” He coughed as he unsettled a cloud of sleeping dust.

After climbing down the ladder, Colin helped his dad unfold the things and clean them up before taking them in for his mom.

“Is everything going okay with you two?” his dad asked.

“Me and Parker?”

“Is there someone else?”

His dad knew he didn’t do that kind of thing. “We’re great. Both busy, but—”

“You haven’t tried to take over her life?”

Colin stood taller. “I don’t try and take over people’s lives.”

“Maybe take over is an exaggeration . . .”

“Thank you.” Colin found a towel and moved to the sink in the garage and turned on the faucet.

“On second thought, no. Take over is a nice way to say what you do.”

“Dad!”

“It’s a balance, son. Women want you to do for them, but they need to do for themselves, too. You like to go in and fix everything. That comes off as taking over.”

“I learned from the best.” In fact, all three of them could blame or give credit, depending on whom you asked, for their father’s trait.

“So, are you?”

“No.” He thought of the night he brought home her Christmas tree. He’d given Austin the money for the thing before Parker could notice, and Austin made up the deep discount and his boss taking it out of his check to avoid her arguing. The frustration that night over the stranger that walked in her yard . . . he saw red with the memory. The sandbags . . . the problems with her gate and the power outage. “She doesn’t give me the chance,” he finally told his dad.

“But you’ve tried.”

“Not completely.” He sighed.

“Your mom and I like this one. She isn’t some delicate thing that needs you to function, and that’s a good thing long-term.”

Colin wrung out the soaked towel and moved to the table. “Sounds like you’re already writing up a guest list.”

When his father didn’t laugh, Colin looked up. “Dad!”

“Your mom.”

“We haven’t known each other very long.”

“I married your mom six months after we met.”

“And I was born seven months later.”

“You were premature.”

Colin rolled his eyes. “Nine-pound babies aren’t premature. But nice try.”

“Is she on birth control?”

Colin stopped. “Are we really having this conversation?”

“You’re right. It’s none of my business.”

Good!

He scrubbed the table hard enough to make the legs scrape against the garage floor.

“Does she even want kids?” his father asked after a few seconds.

“Since I don’t know what her favorite color is yet, I couldn’t tell you about her desire to procreate in the future.” He couldn’t tell his father if she was on birth control either. They’d used condoms like any respectable sexually active adults, so he hadn’t asked. She hadn’t volunteered either.

Colin finished with the one table and moved on to the other.

His dad folded the clean one and picked it up before going in the house. “Well, be sure and warn her about the rain. My leg is killing me.”

Some days their family openness was over the top.

Today was one of them.

Yet as he was driving home an hour later, he kept asking himself if Parker wanted children of her own.

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Colin had left his brother’s house around nine in the evening; an hour after the first sprinkles messed up his clean car. He’d been flustered by the conversation with their dad and needed a distraction. If he’d called Parker, he risked asking all the questions his father had posed to him and possibly scaring the woman off.

Matt reminded him of two important facts.

“Mom wants grandchildren and Dad hates not knowing all the facts.”

Two things Colin knew, but wasn’t focused on.

So they shared a beer while Colin refreshed the screen on his radar app on his phone. Bands of green, indicating rain, were moving in. Behind them were blips of red that may or may not make it over the hill. Either way, his morning would be busy.

He just hoped it wouldn’t be on Parker’s property.

Colin no sooner dropped his keys on the kitchen counter than his work phone rang. It was Glynn. “I just drove past the river site. So far so good.”

“Have you been to Creek Canyon?”

“No. I wasn’t sure if you were around.”

“I’m not. Let me call Parker and let her know you’ll be watching throughout the night.”

“You’re the boss.”

He hung up and texted Parker. Are you still up?

Three dots flashed on his screen, answering his question.

I am.

Colin called her number and lifted the phone to his ear.

“Hey.” Her voice was relaxed.

“You sound good.”

“Mallory and I made some homemade eggnog. It’s not bad. We may have poured the brandy a little strong.”

He cringed. “Taking the domestic thing to a new level.”

“Yeah, well . . . no one is out tonight so I don’t have to stress about picking anyone up.”

“I’m glad you’re relaxing.”

“I’m trying.”

As much as he didn’t want to be the one to bring her back to reality, he kinda had to. “Listen, Glynn will be in and out tonight, watching the wash.”