Free How to Handle a Heartbreaker by Marie Harte Page A

that moment and made a beeline for the kitchen.
    “Take Mike.” Flynn pointed at his brother. “See that manly frown? Those ragged jeans and that holey T-shirt? How about those funky boots? And there, those monstrous fists ready to beat on some hapless—Hey!” He darted around the kitchen island, keeping it between him and Mike, who looked ready to break something— someone —in half.
    Mutt whined from the bedroom, where Brody had earlier contained him.
    “Did you put Mom up to this?” Mike growled.
    Brody and Cam exchanged a grin they quickly erased when Mike included them in his glare.
    “Flynn,” they said as one. “ He did it,” Brody added for emphasis, not wanting to be confused with the guy ready to lose his pretty face.
    “Dickheads,” Flynn snarled. “I did not,” he said to Mike and danced around the island again when Mike lunged for him. “You know Mom is getting all weird about grandkids. She’s on me and Maddie to have them, for God’s sake. And we’re not engaged yet.”
    “I know.” Mike huffed and seemed to settle down. “She keeps strangling Colin with cuddling and Grandma-time. Dad saved him tonight. Poor kid begged me not to leave him with ‘the baby-lady.’ His words, not mine.”
    “Poor guy.” Brody shook his head. “It’s just Bitsy excited about her sons hooking up again. Hey, it’s a good sign, right? She wants you to be happy.” Bitsy and Pop, what he called Beth and James McCauley.
    Mike studied him with narrowed eyes.
    “What?”
    “So how come she isn’t all gaga over you and Abby hooking up?”
    Brody looked at Flynn. “Really? You told Mike too? Nice, Chatty Cathy.”
    Flynn had the grace to flush. “We all like the thought of you and Abby together. So I told them you kind of fooled around on Wednesday.”
    Thank God Brody hadn’t told Flynn about what Abby had really done. Only that he’d kissed her and they’d spent a platonic night in her bed, head to foot.
    “Yeah. Now that I think about it, Mom should know that you’re her next project, not me. I made a kid. I’m done.” Mike crossed his monstrous arms over his chest and smiled. A mean grin that didn’t meet his eyes.
    “Now hold on. This thing with Abby is casual. I’m not ready for a relationship.”
    “Uh-huh.” Flynn tossed Mike a beer. “If that’s the case, tell me. When was the last time you got laid?”
    “I don’t kiss and tell.” Unfortunately, the guys didn’t buy that one. They all laughed in his face. “Belinda.”
    “Yeah, six months ago. Try again, girlfriend.”
    “Shut up. You get laid and all of a sudden you’re an expert on relationships?” Brody couldn’t have said why, but all this talk of him and Abby and the R word made him itchy. “I thought we were here to play cards, or would you rather talk about the fact that you had a wine and cheese party with your new girlfriend the other week?”
    Mike blinked. “Are you serious?”
    “Too bad I wasn’t invited.” Cam frowned. “Was I out of town?”
    Brody and Mike rolled their eyes. Cam would want to be included on something that lame. Mike, Brody, and Flynn would rather have had their teeth pulled. “Yeah, Mr. Fancy Pants. How do you like your chardonnay?”
    They ribbed Flynn and left Brody alone, thank God. He went to let Mutt out of the back room, warned him to behave, and eased the dog into the group. Mutt took a look at Mike, slunk under the table and gnawed on a bone, and the poker game started in earnest. Everyone forgot about women issues as they discussed the Seahawks’ season and Bitsy and Pop’s recent sniping with each other. No one liked dissention in the ranks, especially not Brody.
    An hour later, his cell phone vibrated against his ass, and he called a halt for a bathroom break, praying against all odds Abby suddenly needed help with a clogged bathtub during her bath and had called him for assistance. In his room for privacy, he answered without looking at the number, wanting to be