Simply Irresistible (20 page)

She looked up at her kite. “Do you gots kids?”

Her question took him by surprise, and he waited a moment before answering, “Yes.” He wasn’t going to lie to her, but she wasn’t ready for the truth, and of course, he’d promised Georgeanne. “I had a little boy, but he died when he was a baby.”

“How?”

John glanced up at the kite. “Let out a little more string.” When Lexie did as he advised he said, “He was born too early.”

“Oh, what time?”

“What?” He looked into the small face so close to his.

“What time was he born?”

“About four o’clock in the morning.”

She nodded as if that answered everything. “Yep, too early. All the doctors are still asleep. I was born late.”

John smiled, impressed with her logic. She was obviously quite bright.

“What was his name?”

“Toby.”
And he was your big brother
.

“That’s a weird name.”

“I like it,” he said, feeling himself relax a bit for the first time since he’d driven into the park.

Lexie shrugged. “I want to have a baby, but my mommy says no.”

John carefully settled her more comfortably against his chest, and everything seemed to slip into place, like a smooth one-timer: slide, hit, score. He placed his hands on each side of the stick next to hers and relaxed a bit more. His chin touched her soft temple when he said, “Good, you’re too young to have a baby.”

Lexie giggled and shook her head. “Not me! My mom. I want my
mom
to have a baby.”

“And she said no, huh?”

“Yep, ‘cause she don’t got no husband, but she could get one if she just tried harder.”

“A husband?”

“Yep, and then she could have a baby, too. My mom said she went to the garden and pulled me up like a carrot, but that’s not true. Babies don’t come from a garden.”

“Where do they come from?”

She bumped his chin as she looked up at him. “Don’t you know?”

He’d known for a
very
long time. “Why don’t you tell me.”

She shrugged and returned her gaze to the kite. “Well, a man and a woman gets married, and then they go home and lie on the bed. They close their eyes really, really tight and think really, really hard. Then a baby goes into the mommy’s tummy.”

John laughed, he couldn’t help it. “Does your mom know that you think babies are conceived through telepathy?”

“Huh?”

“Never mind.” He’d heard or read somewhere that parents should talk to their children about sex at an early age. “Maybe you better tell your mom that you know babies aren’t grown in a garden.”

She thought for a few moments before she said, “No. My mommy likes to tell that story at night sometimes. But I did tell her that I’m too big to believe in the Easter Bunny.”

He tried to sound shocked. “You don’t believe in the Easter Bunny?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

She looked back at him as if he were stupid. “‘Cause rabbits gots little paws and can’t dye eggs.”

“Ah... that’s true.” Again he was impressed with her six-year-old logic. “Then I bet you’re too old to believe in Santa.”

She gasped, scandalized. “Santa is for real!”

He guessed the same reasoning that told her rabbits couldn’t dye eggs didn’t apply to flying reindeer, a fat man sliding down her chimney, or jolly little elves who lived to make toys three hundred-sixty-four days a year. “Let out some more of your kite string,” he said, then he just relaxed. He listened to her perpetual chatter and noticed little details about her. He watched the breeze toss her soft hair about her head, and he noticed the way she hunched her shoulders and raised her fingers to her lips whenever she giggled. And she giggled a lot. Her favorite subjects were obviously animals and babies. She had a flair for the dramatic, and was undoubtedly a hypochondriac.

“I skinned my knee,” she told him after reciting a long list of the injuries she’d suffered in the past few days. She pulled her dress up her skinny thighs, raised one leg out in front of her, and touched a finger to a neon green Band-Aid. “And see my toe,” she added, pointing to a pink Band-Aid visible beneath her plastic sandal. “Stubbed it at Amy’s. Do you have any ouchies?”

“Ouchies? Hmm...” He thought a moment, then came up with, “I cut my chin shaving this morning.”

Her eyes almost crossed as she looked at his chin.

“My mom gots a Band-Aid. She gots lots of Band-Aids in her purse. I could get one for you.”

He pictured himself with a neon pink bandage. “No. No, thanks,” he declined, and began to take note of Lexie’s other peculiarities, like the way she often said the word “gots” instead of “has” or “have.” He focused all of his attention on her and pretended that they were the only two people in the park. But of course, they weren’t, and it didn’t take long before two boys walked up to them. They looked about thirteen, and both wore baggy black shorts, big T-shirts, and baseball caps with the bills turned backward.

“Aren’t you John Kowalsky?”

“Sure am,” he said as he rose to his feet. Usually he didn’t mind the intrusion, especially by kids who liked to talk hockey. But today he would have preferred that no one approach him. He should have known better. After their last season, the Chinooks were bigger and more popular in the state than ever before. Next to Ken Griffey and Bill Gates, his was the most recognized face in the state of Washington, especially after those billboards he’d done for the Dairy Association.

His teammates had given him a whole shit load of razzing for the white milk mustache, and although he’d pretended otherwise, he had felt like a weenie whenever he’d driven by one of those billboards. But John had learned a long time ago not to take the whole celebrity-athlete thing too seriously.

“We saw you play against the Black Hawks,” said one of the boys, with a picture of a snowboarder on his T-shirt. “I loved the way you hip-checked Chelios at center ice. Man, he flew.”

John remembered that game, too. He’d received a minor penalty and a bruise the size of a cantaloupe. It had hurt like hell, but that was part of the game. Part of his job.

“I’m glad to hear you enjoyed it,” he said, and looked into their young eyes. The hero worship he saw there made him uncomfortable; it always did. “Do you play hockey?”

“Just street,” the other boy answered.

“Where?” He turned to Lexie and reached for her hand so that she wouldn’t feel left out.

“Over at the elementary school by my house. We get a whole bunch of guys together and play.”

As the two boys filled him in on their street hockey, he noticed a young woman walking straight toward them. Her jeans were so tight they looked painful, and her tank top didn’t reach her navel. John could detect a sexually aggressive rink bunny at fifty paces. They were always around. Waiting in a hotel lobby, outside the locker room, and positioned next to the team bus. Women eager to get it on with celebrities were easy to spot in a crowd. It was all in the way they walked and flipped their hair. It was the determined look in their eyes.

He hoped this woman would walk right on past.

She didn’t.

“David, your mom wants you,” she said as she stopped next to the two boys.

“Tell her in just a second.”

“She said now.”

“Dang!”

“It was good to meet you guys.” John reached out to shake their hands. “The next time you’re at a game, wait for me outside the locker room and I’ll introduce you to some of the guys.”

“Really?”

“All right!”

When the two walked away, the woman stayed behind. John let go of Lexie’s hand and glanced down at the top of her head. “It’s time to reel in your kite,” he said. “Your mom will wonder what happened to us.”

“You John Kowalsky?”

He looked up. “That’s right,” he answered, his tone clearly letting her know that he wasn’t interested in her company. She was pretty enough, but she was skinny and had that fake blond look to her, like she’d been left out in the sun too long. Determination hardened her light blue eyes, and he wondered how rude she was going to force him to get with her.

“Well, John,” she said, and slowly pushed the corners of her lips upward into a seductive smile. “I’m Connie.” Her eyes raked him from head to toe. “And you look pretty good in those jeans.”

He was fairly certain he’d heard that line before, but it had been a while and he couldn’t remember it exactly. Not only was she encroaching on his private time with Lexie, she wasn’t very original either.

“But I think I’d look better. Why don’t you take them off and we’ll see?”

Now John remembered. The first time he’d heard it, he’d been twenty and had just signed with Toronto. He’d probably been stupid enough to bite. “I think both of us should keep our pants on,” he said, and wondered why men were the only gender accused of using cheap old pickup lines. Women’s come-ons were equally bad, and most often downright raunchy.

“Okay. I could just crawl right on inside.” She ran the tip of one long red fingernail along his waistband, then down.

John reached out to remove her finger from his fly, but Lexie took care of the problem. She batted the woman’s hand away, then stepped between them.

“That’s a bad touch,” Lexie said as she glared up at Connie. “You could get into really big trouble.”

The woman’s smile faltered as she glanced down. “Is she yours?”

John chuckled softly, amused by Lexie’s fierce expression. He’d certainly needed his share of security before, especially in the City of Brotherly Love, where the fans could get real nasty if someone put the big hurt on their team. But he’d never been guarded by a girl, much less a girl under four feet. “Her mother is a friend of mine,” he said through his smile.

She looked back up at John and flipped her hair. “Why don’t you send her to Mama, and you and I can go for a drive in my car. I have a big backseat.”

A quickie in the back of a Buick didn’t even arouse his curiosity. “I’m not interested.”

“I’ll do things to you that no other woman has done.”

John seriously doubted her claim. He figured he’d pretty much done everything at least once; more often than not, he’d done it twice just to make sure. He placed his hand on Lexie’s shoulder and considered several different ways to tell Connie to get lost. With his daughter so close, he had to be careful how he phrased his rejection.

Georgeanne’s approach saved him the trouble. “I hope I’m not interrupting anything,” she said with that honeyed voice of hers.

He turned to Georgeanne and wrapped an arm around her waist. With his hand on her hip, he looked into her stunned face and smiled. “I knew you couldn’t stay away.”

“John?” she gasped.

Rather than answer the question in her voice, he raised his hand from Lexie’s shoulder and pointed to the blond woman. “Georgie, honey, this is Connie.”

Georgeanne forced one of her phony smiles and said, “Hello, Connie.”

Connie gave Georgeanne a thorough once-over, then shrugged. “It could have been a kick,” she told John, and turned to leave.

As soon as Connie walked away, John watched the corners of Georgeanne’s full lips fall into a straight line. She looked as if she wanted to hit him with a sharp elbow.

“Are you high?”

John smiled and whispered in her ear. “We’re supposed to be friends, remember? I’m just doing my part.”

“Do you grope all your friends?”

John laughed. He laughed at her, at the whole situation, but mostly he laughed at himself. “Only the pretty ones with green eyes and sassy mouths. You might want to remember that.”

Chapter Ten

That evening, after the picnic, Georgeanne still felt raw. Dealing with John had snapped her last nerve, and Mae certainly hadn’t helped one bit. Instead of offering support, Mae had spent her time insulting Hugh Miner, who seemed to have enjoyed the abuse. He’d eaten with relish, laughed tolerantly, and had teased Mae until Georgeanne worried for the man’s safety.

Now all Georgeanne wanted was a hot bath, a cucumber facial, and a loofah. But her bath would have to wait until she came clean to Charles. If she wanted any kind of a future with him, she would have to tell him about John. She would have to tell him she lied about Lexie’s father. She would have to tell him tonight. She wasn’t looking forward to the conversation, but she wanted to get it over with.

The doorbell rang and she ushered Charles into the house. “Where’s Lexie?” he asked, glancing about the living room. He looked comfortable and relaxed in a pair of chinos and a white polo shirt. The light brush of gray at his temples lent dignity to his handsome face.

“I put her to bed.”

Charles smiled and placed his hands on the sides of Georgeanne’s face. He gave her a long, gentle kiss. A kiss that offered more than hot passion. More than a one-night stand.

The kiss ended and Charles looked into her eyes. “You sounded worried on the phone.”

“I am, a little,” she confessed. She took his hand and sat next to him on the couch. “Do you remember when I told you Lexie’s daddy was dead?”

“Sure, his F-16 was shot down during the Gulf War.”

“Well, I may have embellished a bit—actually, a lot.” She took a deep breath and told him about John. She told him about their meeting seven years ago, and she told him about the picnic that afternoon. When she was finished, Charles didn’t look pleased, and she was afraid she’d damaged their relationship.

“You could have told me the truth the first time,” he said.

“Maybe, but I’ve just gotten so used to lying about it that I never really stopped to think about the truth after a while. Then when John walked back into my life, I thought he’d hurry and grow tired of playing daddy, and I wouldn’t have to tell her or anyone.”

“You don’t think he’ll grow tired of Lexie now?”

“No. Today in the park he was very attentive to her, and he made a date to take her to the exhibit at the Pacific Science Center next week.” She shook her head. “I don’t think he’s going away.”

“How will seeing him affect you?”

“Me?” she asked as she looked into his gray eyes.

“He’s in your life. You’ll see him from time to time.”