FATHER IN TRAINING (21 page)

She flushed. "I'm not an evil-tempered witch, but okay, I'll listen first."

"Great." He leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees. "I went and spoke with Gary Warner's parents."

There was a moment of silence. He didn't risk glancing at her. Instead, he waited.

"Why?" she asked at last.

"Two reasons. I went because I was concerned about what had happened with Blake. The kid hit him when Blake wasn't looking. That's not right. I've known his folks for a while and they're good people. I thought there might be trouble at home, and they should be aware of what was happening in their son's life. The second reason I went was because if Gary's already acting like this when he's ten, by the time he's thirteen, he could be stealing or causing other kinds of trouble. As a deputy in this town, I want to prevent that. So are you mad or what?"

"Or what," she said softly.

He glanced at her. She was smiling. He liked the way her lips curved up and the faint crinkles by her eyes. He liked the way she leaned toward him. The sweet scent of her perfume drifted to him. He inhaled the fragrance knowing other women could wear the scent and it would never be the same.

"I meant I'm not mad," she said. "I appreciate your taking the initiative. What happened when you want to see them?"

He straightened and angled toward her. He rested his left foot on the opposite knee and stretched his arm out along the back of the bench. "They were very nice about the whole thing. They're getting a divorce and fighting over who gets full custody of
Gary
. According to his mother, he's been acting up for a while, but they didn't know it was so bad. They're going to talk to him and make sure he gets some counseling. Then I spoke with Robby's parents." He glanced at her. "Did Blake mention him?"

"Yes, he said he liked him a lot and wanted to know if he could play with him again."

"Robby's a good kid. I talked to his dad. He's going to sign his son up for a martial arts class. He thinks it'll give him some confidence." He opened his mouth to tell
Sandy
she should think about the same thing for Blake,
then
reminded himself it wasn't his business.

"Maybe I should do that, too," she said.

"Gee, that's what I was thinking."

"I know. I could read your expression. But you were afraid to say something." She bit her lower lip. "I was horrible yesterday, Kyle. I really am sorry."

"I know. It's okay."

"It's not." Her green eyes darkened with regret. "Some of my anger wasn't even about you. Thomas used to take Lindsay with him on his trips now and then. They always had a good time. It made me feel left out. I think that's how I felt yesterday. You'd been there for Blake, and I was jealous." She stared at her hands. "Pretty shallow of me."

"Actually, it makes perfect sense." He studied the top of her head. He'd never thought of
Sandy
as being insecure, but maybe she was. "Why didn't you ever go with Lindsay and Thomas?" he asked.

"I couldn't. I had two other smaller children to look after." She glanced at him and sighed. "I know what you're thinking. Maybe I was using them as an excuse. Maybe I said I couldn't go, hoping Thomas would insist and prove it was important to him that I come along. Maybe I wanted him to think I was still fun to be around."

He was so startled by her confession he didn't know what to say. "
Sandy
, I—"

"No." She shook her head. "It's true. I can be a little grim. But it's hard to be spontaneous
and
responsible. I don't want my kids growing up the way I did. Always afraid. Wondering if there's enough food for dinner."

She sniffed and he realized she was close to tears. He'd never seen her cry. "I think you're a fine mother," he said. "I admire you."

Her smile was a little shaky at the corners. "Really?"

"Yeah." He touched her cheek. "Really."

"Thanks. You're not so bad yourself." She stared at his face,
then
dropped her gaze lower, to his chest. "I haven't seen you in uniform before. It sort of shocked me when I came in."

"Most women like it," he said.

"Mmm, I can see why."

Instantly her eyes widened and a bright spot of color flared on each cheek. The sight of Sensible Sandy reduced to
embarrassed
silence went a long way to restoring his ego. He knew enough about women to know she wasn't immune to him, but he wasn't sure attraction was enough. Of course, he wasn't sure what he wanted yet, either. He just knew he didn't want to have to think of being without her. He was going to risk trying. Just this once. If she walked all over him, then he would have to figure out a way to recover. If she was interested in a relationship, he was going to have to learn to face his fears.

"I'm sorry we missed our barbecue," he said. "Maybe we could try rescheduling."

She glanced at him, then away. "Sure. The kids really missed you last night. I got an earful from all three of them."

"Did you miss me?"

She swallowed. "Um, yes." Her voice was a whisper.

He placed his hand on top of hers, stilling her nervous movements. She hadn't put her wedding ring back on. He was pleased. "Maybe we could try being friends as well as neighbors. I'm willing to admit I'm too charming if you'll admit you're a little too responsible."

She glared at him, but didn't pull her hands away. "Oh, sure. You get to admit to a fun thing. I'm supposed to admit to being a stick-in-the-mud. That's not fair."

"I like that you're responsible. Being Sensible Sandy is one of your best qualities."

"Don't call me that." She wasn't mad. The tone of her voice was low, soft and sultry. The look in her eyes was anything but annoyed.

The air around them thickened with tension. It wasn't just about sex and it should have scared him away, but it didn't. It made him want to lean closer. Not necessarily to kiss her, although he wouldn't mind that. But to be with her, a part of her life. It was different from desire—it terrified him, yet he wanted more.

"I like everything about you," he admitted. "Except that you've forgotten how to have fun. I could teach you. It's something I'm good at."

"I'll bet." She started to pull away.

He grasped her hands more closely. "The world won't end if you let go of your control for an hour or two."

"I know. But—"

He leaned closer. Close enough to feel the heat of her body. Close enough that kissing was only a temptation away. "Trust me."

Her lips parted. "I shouldn't."

He moved that last inch and brushed his mouth against hers. The quick contact left them both breathing hard. "You're right, you shouldn't trust me, but you do."

She smiled. "I guess I do."

"But I don't want to," Lindsay said, glaring at her mother.

Sandy
took a deep breath and prayed for patience. "Honey, it'll be fun for you. I feel badly that you haven't had a chance to make any friends your own age." She glanced around at the large park. Children from five through fifteen milled around. The summer park program had started its last session, and
Sandy
had enrolled all three kids.

"I don't want to be friends with anyone dorky enough to do this," Lindsay complained. "Look how weird-looking they are."

She pointed at a pale, dark-haired boy wearing thick glasses and orthodontic headgear.
Sandy
bit back a smile. "You
be
nice to that boy," she said. "He might be a nerd now, but in a few years, he might be the president of some fast-growing high-tech company. He'll be rich."

Lindsay looked doubtful.

Sandy
gave her a hug. "Come on. Just give it a try. One afternoon. If you hate it, I won't make you come back."

"Promise?"

Sandy
nodded. She gave Lindsay a little push toward the row of tables set up by the parking lot. The posted signs told children to register by age group. "I swear I won't force you to do it again. But you have to try. No sitting in the corner and sulking."

Lindsay rolled her eyes. "Mom, it's a park. There aren't any corners."

"You know what I mean. Now, Robby's mom is going to give you a ride home. I'm going to the grocery store this afternoon. If I'm not back before you guys, you know what to do."

"Stay inside with the door locked. Watch TV and avoid snacks that require heating. We've been over this a hundred times. I'm twelve. Lots of girls my age are babysitting."

"I know. I can't help worrying. Do you have your house key?"

Lindsay pulled a chain up from behind her yellow T-shirt. The house key dangled on the end.

Sandy
bent down and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek. "See you later."

"Bye." Lindsay turned and walked toward the registration tables. A cute boy who looked about fourteen smiled at her. Lindsay tossed her head and suddenly looked incredibly grown-up. They were changing fast,
Sandy
thought as she returned to her car.

She paused before getting in and scanned the park. Children played everywhere. The younger kids were on the far side, so she couldn't see Nichole, but Blake and his new best friend, Robby, had already joined a softball game in progress. Her son was laughing as he waited his turn at bat.

She slipped into the driver's seat and started the engine. Blake was going to be all right. For a long time, she'd worried about her only son. No matter what she'd said to Thomas, she couldn't convince her husband that his son needed him. Thomas had neglected the boy shamefully. It didn't help that she knew why. Blake was too much like Thomas—the red hair, the glasses, the slight build. After all her years of marriage, she'd finally realized that Thomas liked his dangerous sports because they proved his masculinity. He'd been ridiculed as a child for being small and skinny. She thought that might have made him more compassionate with Blake, but it hadn't. Instead, he'd turned his back on his son, and Blake had been the one to suffer.

That was changing,
Sandy
reminded herself as she drove down the quiet streets of Glenwood. They were all starting to fit in. Sandy and Robby's mother, Alice, had become friendly. They were sharing car-pool responsibilities for the summer camp. Nichole and Mandy had become best friends. Blake had Robby. Only Lindsay hadn't met someone her own age. Hopefully, the camp would change that.

She turned onto her street. Overhead, tall, leafy trees touched over the center of the road creating a tunnel of shade. She liked the older houses with the wide porches and big windows. She liked that she knew her
neighbors, that
they waved when they saw her and that she could let her children play outside without worrying about them.

She was a long way from
Los Angeles
, but she didn't miss the city at all.

She turned down her driveway—and hit the brake. Kyle was waiting for her in front of her house. He sat on the porch stairs and next to him was his large, black motorcycle. Nestled together on the seat were two safety helmets.

He'd promised to teach her how to have fun. Did this mean the lessons began today?

She eased the car forward. Self-consciously, she touched her hair. She hadn't done anything but slip on a headband. Her red shorts and white T-shirt were clean, but not especially stylish. She wasn't ready for this.

She'd seen Kyle a few times since she'd gone to apologize to him, but he hadn't said anything about having fun together. She'd thought maybe he'd forgotten or had just been kidding. In the deepest, most secret part of her heart, she'd been disappointed. Apparently, he hadn't forgotten, he'd simply been biding his time.

She stopped the car and got out. "Hi."

"Hi." He stood up. Six feet two inches of lean, sexy male. Worn button-fly jeans hugged his hips and thighs. His tank shirt exposed tanned, muscled shoulders. Aviator sunglasses hid his eyes, but his mouth was smiling. Did he know what he did to her? Did he sense that her stomach clenched every time she saw him or that her heart pounded harder and faster? Did he know he made her palms damp and her knees tremble? She kept waiting for her nervous reaction to him to go away, but it didn't. She wondered if it ever would.