FATHER IN TRAINING (8 page)

Kyle pushed open the window, then painted over the smudge mark his fingers had made. A breeze blew into the room, chasing out the paint fumes. He set his brush on the newspaper that covered the floor and poured some paint into a tray. After screwing the extension into the roller, he started painting the ceiling.

The smooth back-and-forth movements relaxed him and freed his mind to wander. Last night,
Sandy
had filled his senses. Even after she'd left his house, he'd been able to inhale the scent of her body and feel her close to him. There was something about her that got to him. In sixteen years, that hadn't changed. He still remembered the first time he'd seen her.
Jordan
had brought her home one day after school. Kyle had been sitting at the kitchen table working on his algebra homework. The door had opened and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen had walked into his life.

It had been spring, and warmer than usual. She'd been wearing a green dress, the exact color of her eyes. Even now, he could remember every detail about that moment. The way she'd hesitated before stepping into the kitchen, the brush of her light brown hair against her shoulders, the curiosity shining from her eyes, the way the neckline of her dress had dipped slightly, exposing nothing, but making him think about her body. He had reacted to his thoughts in a painful and embarrassing way. When he'd wanted to politely stand and greet her, he'd had to stay seated.

She'd carried her books in her arm. His brother had been holding her other hand. Kyle remembered staring at their joined hands and feeling as if he'd been punched in the stomach. The most beautiful girl in the world belonged to his brother. It was hopeless. Then she'd smiled at him. A warm, wide smile that had made him
forget
to breathe. After that, he hadn't cared about anything but her.

He was sure
Jordan
had introduced them, although he couldn't remember the conversation. He'd recognized her name. She was known as "a brain." Sensible
Sandy
. Travis had teased
Jordan
about dating her, asking if she organized his kisses the way she organized everything else. Kyle hadn't paid attention to the good-natured ribbing. He'd never understood his brother's interest in girls. Until that day.

He dipped the roller in the tray,
then
continued working on the ceiling. It had all happened a long time ago, yet that afternoon had been one of those significant moments that had changed his life. He'd never looked at girls the same. He'd started returning some of the teasing smiles sent his way. He'd stolen his first kiss, his first embrace, had wished for his first lover, although that hadn't happened for a few more years. But through it all, he'd dreamed of
Sandy
.

All this time later, he still wasn't sure what it was about her that got to him. To him, she was beautiful, but he knew most people didn't share his opinion. Her strength and intelligence had scared off lots of guys. He'd wanted to tell her it didn't scare him; he'd admired her. But she wouldn't have cared. He was two years younger than her. Now it didn't matter, but when she'd been sixteen and he'd been fourteen, those two years had seemed like an
uncrossable
barrier. When he'd finally gathered the courage to speak to her, she'd been friendly but not interested. He was just her boyfriend's kid brother.

He drew the roller across the flat ceiling toward the corner. He'd used the brush to paint along the edges and now he blended the paint to make a smooth coat. He grinned as he recalled how happy he'd been the day
Jordan
had announced he'd broken up with
Sandy
. The woman of his dreams was now available. He'd quickly realized not only was he too young to ask her out, but now she would stop coming to the house and he wouldn't get to see her at all. He'd spent the next few months standing outside the high school hoping for a glimpse of her.

It had been a year later that he'd walked into his kitchen and found
Sandy
talking with
Jordan
. His heart had thudded wildly in his chest, his face had flushed and his voice, which had changed two summers before, had started cracking again. For a horrible moment, he'd thought they were back together again. He quickly found out they were just friends. For reasons he could never understand,
Sandy
had preferred his house to her own. She'd spent much of her senior year hanging out with the Haynes brothers. By then, Kyle had been fifteen, and a high school student. By taking inconvenient routes to classes, he caught glimpses of
Sandy
during the day. She was nice to him, friendly but never encouraging. No matter what he did, she never really saw him as anything but
Jordan
's kid brother.

One night, when his mom had gone to a parent-teacher meeting,
Sandy
had volunteered to cook dinner. While she'd watched over a pot roast, he'd wrestled with an essay for English.
Sandy
had sat next to him and helped him. She'd leaned close, pointing out the awkward construction and mismatched sentences. He'd barely been able to write, with her right next to him. The scent of her body had driven him wild. He'd wanted to kiss her, to touch her, to do anything to let her know how he felt. He could still remember the freckles on her nose and the light in her eyes as she'd smiled at him.

Their arms had brushed together. Electricity had raced through him, from his head to his toes. When the paper was finished, he'd waited for her to move away, but she hadn't. He'd stretched his arms wide, yawning exaggeratedly,
then
he'd casually dropped his arm over her shoulders. He'd hugged several girls by then, but with
Sandy
he felt as if he were doing it for the first time. He couldn't think of anything to say. His mouth had gone dry, his tongue twisted up. She'd turned slightly toward him, her smile soft and knowing.

"I think you're a great guy, Kyle," she'd said. "You're going to make some girl very happy."

She should have just shot him and been done with it. Not even the brief kiss on his cheek was enough to make up for the humiliation of that moment. He'd tried and he'd failed. He didn't have a chance with her.

Kyle started on the walls of the bedroom. The hell of it was, after all this time, he still hated the way she'd dismissed him. Years later, he could still taste the defeat.

Was that what this was about?
he
wondered. Was he just trying to prove something to himself and maybe to
Sandy
? Or had those long-ago feelings simply been lying dormant, waiting for her to return?

He shook his head. That was crazy. He hadn't been waiting for her to return. But he sure wished he'd kissed her last night. The thought of holding her in his arms had kept him awake until after
midnight
. Maybe what he should do is—

"You're almost done in here."

He turned toward the voice and saw Lindsay walking into the bedroom. The preteen gave him a winning smile,
then
tossed her ponytail over her shoulder.

"It's going pretty fast," Kyle said, dipping the roller into the tray. "Whose room is this going to be?"

Lindsay moved close to him and fluttered her eyelashes. Obviously she hadn't gotten over her crush. "Mine."

He was sorry he'd asked. Still, he didn't say anything to her. He didn't want to hurt her feelings. He, of all people, knew what it was like to be dismissed by the object of his affection. Yet he didn't want to encourage her, either. The situation made him damn uncomfortable.

Lindsay crossed the room to the window. "We're going to put up a wallpaper border."

"That'll look real nice."

"You think so?"

She stared at him earnestly, as if his answer mattered more than anything. Kyle finished the wall opposite the window and nodded. "Yeah, sure it will. Did you come up to see how I was doing, or did you want something specific?"

"Oh, Mom's ordering sandwiches for lunch. What would you like?"

"Lean roast beef with everything."

She wrinkled her nose. At that moment, she looked just like her mother. Kyle grinned. "You don't approve?"

"I hate onions."

"Then I won't make you eat any."

Lindsay laughed. Kyle couldn't figure out if he was making it better or worse. Before he had a chance to decide, Travis poked his head into the room.

"Lindsay, your mom's looking for you," he said.

"Okay." She glanced at Kyle. "I've got to give her the orders. You can come downstairs if you'd like. Everyone is taking a break."

"Thanks. I'll do that." He waited until she left, then grimaced at his brother. "What am I going to do about her?"

Travis came into the room and laughed. "I can't help you, little brother. Lindsay is way out of my league."

"Thanks for nothing." Kyle slipped the roller into the tray,
then
turned toward the last unpainted wall. "When you were first dating
Elizabeth
, did you have any problems with her daughter, Mandy?"

"Mandy was six at the time. She only ever saw me as a substitute father. Can't you just tell Lindsay you're too old for her?"

"Sure. But then I'll hurt her feelings and humiliate her."

"I wish I had something better to tell you."

Kyle shrugged. "Me, too." He raised his arms and moved the roller up and down above the closet door. "I'll think of something."

Travis grinned. "I don't understand why there's a problem in the first place. You're usually so good with kids."

"It's different this time."

"Why?"

Because I think I care about
Sandy
.
Except he didn't want to admit to that. Not yet. Just thinking about it was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat. He knew better than to care. It was dangerous. If his brothers, father and uncles had taught him one thing, it was that Haynes men didn't make good husbands and fathers. They'd been failing at it for several generations. He frowned. Except for Travis. His brother had been married for over two years. He and Elizabeth had had a daughter. They were happy. So Travis had escaped the Haynes family curse. That didn't mean Kyle was also going to get lucky.

"Maybe you should think about settling down," Travis told him.

"I'm not the type. My relationships don't last."

"That's because you leave the women before they can leave you."

"What am I supposed to do about it? Stay, and let them leave me?"

"How about trusting they might want to stay?"

Kyle put down the roller and stared at his brother. They were about the same height, with the same dark hair and eyes. Travis was four years older. His marriage had softened his hard edges and made him a happy man.

"What if they don't stay?" Kyle asked.

Travis's smile faded. "What if they do? It seems to me you're already changing things."

"What does that mean?"

"We're here." He moved his arm out to indicate the room, then the house beyond. "You've never involved your family with one of your women before."

"
Sandy
's not one of my women. She's—"

Travis waited, his eyebrows raised.

"Forget it," Kyle mumbled and turned back to the painting. He concentrated on moving the roller down the narrow strip of wall between the closet and the corner. "Don't you have work to do?" he asked.

"Not really. We're taking a break until the deli delivers the sandwiches. You could come down and join us. Or you could continue to hide up here."

Kyle grunted. "I'll be down when I'm done."

"Sure." Travis started out the door.

"And I'm not hiding," he called.

Travis laughed.

Kyle knew he hadn't been hiding, but
Sandy
was still sure avoiding him. All through lunch, she sat at the far end of the living room. Sunlight streamed through the bare windows. Someone had swept the hardwood floor,
then
mopped it until it gleamed. With no furniture in the large house, they'd each pulled up a piece of floor when the meal had arrived. Nichole had passed out sodas,
then
taken a seat near
Austin
. The gray-eyed pirate always had a way with the ladies, Kyle thought, watching Nichole charm the quiet man. Mercifully, Lindsay had stayed near her mother. Instead, it had been Blake who'd sat near Kyle. The boy hadn't said anything, despite Kyle's attempt to bring him into the conversation. In the end, Kyle had given up and instead, had watched
Sandy
not look at him.