That Touch of Pink (13 page)

“I hear a
but
.”

“You bet there's a
but
. You didn't bother to ask questions. You simply went to the bad place.”

“Define bad place.”

“That's where you assign me blame for something I haven't done. I had no idea Fred called. Whether or not you believe it, that's the truth. And I still don't know why he did because I haven't heard any more from him. Which is typical. And here's some more of my point. He turned his back on his own child. There's nothing
he could say or do, now or ever, that would compel me to take him back after that. He violated a basic social and moral code, and it's unforgivable.”

Hell of a time for him to remember she'd once told him he reminded her of her ex. “What does that have to do with me?”

“When I first met you, I jumped to the conclusion that you were like Kimmie's father because you had a few things in common.” Her full lips tightened for a moment. “But everything you did said that you're noble, loyal, conscientious, caring. And I felt like a jerk.”

“Look, Abby, it's been a long time since I thought about any resemblance. I'm not judging you—”

“Yes, you are and you came to the wrong conclusion. But I'm judging you, too. And I think my first impression was right after all.”

“What does that mean?” he said. Now she was hitting below the belt.

“Kimmie's father walked out on her. You're doing the same thing.”

“Now wait a minute—”

“No,” she said, pointing at him. “I'm all my daughter has. If I don't look out for her, who will? I won't let you or anyone else get away with treating her badly. She's just a child. She's hurt and confused because of you. The worst isn't that you're just like Fred The Flake. The worst is that you made Kimmie think you were different. You made her care about you.”

“I care about her, too.”

“You have a funny way of showing it.” She brushed the back of her hand across her cheek and took a deep breath. “But then, I should have expected it.”

“Why?” He didn't know why he asked because he knew he wasn't going to like the answer.

“I was shocked and angry when my husband left and broke his promise to come back. But that's nothing compared to what I feel now.”

“Which is?”

“I hate myself. I'm the worst parent in the world. I brought another man into our lives and my child has suffered because of it. And—”

She walked out from behind her counter and headed for the door.

When she started to pass him, he reached out and curled his fingers around her upper arm to stop her. “And what, Abby?”

She met his gaze and her own was glistening with unshed tears. “And I did what I said I'd never, ever do again. I fell for you.” She drew in a shuddering breath. “But I've learned to live with disappointment once. I can do it again.”

R
iley walked into his office to find Nora checking his calendar against a computer printout. “Good morning,” he said.

“Is it?”

“Yes?” he said hesitantly, hoping it was the right answer.

Personally, he hadn't had a good morning—or night, for that matter—since he'd found out Abby's ex-husband had called. He sat down behind his desk.

“Why do you look like you're getting ready to work?” she asked.

“I own the company?” he replied questioningly.

She pointed to a hastily scribbled note on his desk calendar. “What's DWD, and don't even try to tell me it's something to do with the Defense Department.”

“Driving while dysfunctional?” he tried.

“If that were true, no one would even be eligible for
a license,” she pointed out. “Everyone I know suffers from varying degrees of dysfunction. We all have idiosyncrasies tending toward lunacy.” One of her eyebrows lifted, followed by a piercing look that meant she was going to make a point and he wouldn't like it. “But for the record, I'd like to say that some of us have more degrees of dysfunction than others.”

He glanced at his scribbled note. “Look, it's just letters. I was doodling.”

“Uh-huh.” She traced something else on the calendar. “And tell me these initials—A and K—inside a heart stand for that rifle thing.”

“I assume you're talking about an AK-47. You know how I feel about them—”

“Don't split hairs, Riley. What in the blazes does it stand for?”

Why did he even bother to try and sidetrack her? And he didn't bother pretending he didn't know what “it” she meant. “DWD means Doughnuts With Dad.”

“I'm going to take a shot in the dark here and guess it has something to do with Kimmie?”

He nodded. “School function.”

“And why is it on your calendar?” When he didn't answer right away, she put her hands on her hips and gave him the look again. “Don't bother to lie. I'll know if you are.”

“I said I'd be there,” he admitted. He'd outright promised, but he didn't want to phrase it that way.

“It's today.”

“Yeah.”

“So what are you doing here?”

“I'm not going,” he said.

“But you promised.”

So much for his cautious phrasing. “Look, Nora, it's complicated.”

She nodded, but the penetrating look in her eyes didn't soften. “I can see how keeping a promise could be.”

“Here's the thing. If I'm there, she'll get the wrong idea. It will just prolong the inevitable. If I don't show, she'll forget about me by lunchtime. At first, she might be disappointed—”

He remembered Kimmie's face when she talked about learning to live with disappointment. How many times could you knock a kid down before they stopped getting back up? He felt lower than a snake's belly.

“Yes?”

“It's complicated, Nora. Leave it alone.”

“I can't. Because this isn't about Kimmie. At least, not in a direct way. It's about Abby, making it about you. That's where it becomes my business.”

“What about Abby?”

“I'm going out on another limb here. This situation with her isn't like with Barb.”

“And you know this how?”

“I just do. She said she had no idea her ex-husband called until Kimmie blurted it out here. I, for one, believe her. She doesn't sound like a woman who's planning on getting back together with the guy.”

“It doesn't matter.”

“You're lying,” she accused.

She was right, although he'd eat glass before admitting it. The truth was, Abby and Kimmie mattered a hell of a lot. More than he'd meant for them to matter.

In his gut, he knew he'd never loved Barb. He'd re
alized it when Abby had asked him if his friendship with Barb had grown into love. He'd liked her, but loved the idea of having a family. When they broke up, it was his son he'd missed—not Barb.

But Abby was different. She lived love every single day. She was there, doing the hard stuff. Putting one foot in front of the other because she loved her child more than anything. She ran interference for Kimmie and wouldn't let anyone dump on her because Abby cared with all her heart.

And Abby cared about him.

That was the last thing she'd said before he'd left her in the library over a week ago. That and the fact that she wasn't happy about her feelings. That he was worse than the man she'd divorced. And she'd learn to live with the disappointment. At the time, he'd thought she was wrong—that he was nothing like her ex-husband. Now he wasn't so sure. He'd let Kimmie down already and was about to do it again.

Since the day Abby had given him a piece of her mind, he'd thought about little else besides her. Somehow Abby, and Kimmie, too, had sneaked past his emotional perimeter. And he wasn't so sure he would ever learn to live with that disappointment.

“It doesn't matter?” Nora said, her voice rising an octave. “This from the man who still has the emotional scars because his adoptive parents had the audacity to conceive a child?”

“I'm so over that,” he scoffed.

“Right. And I could see by the look on your face when Kimmie said her father called that you're over what Barb did to you.”

“I am over it.”

“Prove it. Go to that school function. Because the bottom line is you're a grown man. Kimmie is a little girl. If you think your behavior isn't going to scar her for the rest of her life, then you're a five-star general in charge of fantasyland.”

Speaking of giving a piece of her mind, Nora was really on a roll, he thought. And she didn't know he'd already stood Kimmie up once already. He felt like a by-product of nuclear waste sludge for what he'd done.

“I don't know how to respond to that.”

She put her hands on her hips. “Fortunately, you don't have to because I'm not finished with you yet. You're a lying weasel dog. A coward.”

“Am not.” He tried to smile, to draw her into their childhood give-and-take. But they weren't children any more and the look on her face said she wasn't going there.

“I don't mean 'fraidy cat in the traditional sense,” she went on as if he hadn't spoken. “There's not a doubt in my mind that you'd take a bullet for anyone you loved.”

“Damn straight,” he agreed.

“And I think Abby and her daughter are at the top of your list. You'd march right into hell and spit in the devil's eye without flinching, but taking a chance on Abby scares the hell out of you.”

“Who died and made you the resident shrink?” He'd meant to sound teasing, but there was a defensive edge to his voice. She was way too close to the target.

“You're a big chicken, Riley.” She made chicken noises and moved her arms as if she were flapping wings.

“You know,” he said, studying her. “Cupid has wings.”

She shook her head. “Not me. No way. I don't like anyone messing in my love life. Pathetic as it is. But I'll tell you this. You can do what you think is right. You always have and always will because it's the way you're wired.” She pointed at him again. “But—and I mean this with every fiber of my being—if you stand that little girl up for Doughnuts With Dad, I will personally break your kneecaps.”

“You and what army?”

“Don't push it. I've got connections.”

He was trying for flippant, but she shot him a glare on the way out of his office. He looked at the scribbling on his calendar and traced the heart he'd absently drawn around their initials. Was his subconscious trying to tell him something?

Or was it time to stop thinking too much? He'd been in a lot of tight spots and instinct had saved his life more than once. Maybe he should simply go with his gut on this one.

 

Abby watched her daughter from a glassed-in area just off the first grade classroom. She could see without being seen as dads arrived and sat with their children, just like Muffins With Mom day. Kimmie's hopeful gaze darted to the door every time it opened, and every time the man walking in wasn't Riley, the hope died.

The door to the hideaway room opened and Mrs. Nolet walked in. “Hi, Abby.”

“Hi.” Abby had explained that Kimmie's stand-in dad probably wouldn't be there and had received permission to wait in the wings if needed.

The teacher pushed her glasses up on her nose. “You know I won't let Kimmie be left out. If you need to get to work—”

Abby shook her head. “I took the morning off.”

“Okay.” She nodded and left, moving around the classroom, making sure the event was going smoothly.

Abby had tried to prepare her daughter for the fact that Riley wasn't coming, but the little girl refused to believe it. When he'd missed the Bluebonnets meeting, she'd made excuses—maybe he had been sick, or his car had broken down, like theirs had that time. Abby had explained that he'd fulfilled his auction obligation to them and now he was moving on, but her little girl wouldn't accept it. He'd promised. And it didn't matter a fig to her that he'd also promised to be at her meeting. She'd been adamant that on Doughnuts With Dad day, she wouldn't be sitting by herself like Griffie.

But Abby wasn't taking any chances. If no one invited Kimmie to sit with them, Abby would be there. It broke her heart that she couldn't be everything to her child. If she could, her little girl wouldn't even notice that men let her down on an annoyingly regular basis.

Abby saw Kimmie look toward the door and braced herself again for the look of disappointment. Instead, Kimmie's little face lit with animation, and she jumped up and waved. Following her gaze, Abby saw a man, slightly taller than the few who were milling around. He waved and squatted down as Kimmie raced over and then hurled herself at him, practically disappearing as he folded her into his strong arms.

Tears burned Abby's eyes as the little girl took Riley's big hand in her small one and led him to her six-
year-old-sized chair. He looked questioningly at the identical empty seat beside hers, then lowered himself carefully. Kimmie laughed at the picture he made, with his knees practically touching his nose. No way would his long legs fit under the table. Most of the dads had the same problem, but not as bad as Riley.

Not only did he stand head and shoulders above the other men, he was by far the hottest guy in the room. Abby had the racing heart and sweaty palms to prove it.

Just then, Mrs. Nolet poked her head in. “He's here, Abby. Kimmie's not alone.”

She started to answer and found her voice thick with emotion. After she cleared her throat, she said, “Yeah. I saw him come in.”

“So if you need to go…”

“If it's all right, I'd like to stay and watch.”

The blonde nodded. “No problem.” She started to leave, then poked her head back in. “By the way, he's not hard on the eyes. Is it serious between you?”

Yeah, she wanted to say. A serious problem with serious pain because their pasts got in the way. “No.”

“I'm not being nosy,” she explained. Then she grinned. “Maybe just a little. But it's helpful to know if there are any big changes in a child's life. It can affect their ability to learn.”

“I understand.” Abby shook her head. “But he's just a friend. There won't be anything happening that will impact my daughter.”

“Okay. Talk to you later.”

Abby couldn't take her eyes off the two in the other room. She was entranced and charmed by Riley's easy manner with her daughter and the other men he chatted
up. He exuded warmth and an innate caring for the children, none of whom were his own. Probably because he knew how it felt to not belong. Unfortunately, the woman he'd married had put him back to square one—on the outside looking in. Now Abby and Kimmie were paying the price for what she'd done.

Finally, it was time for the kids to go to recess and the dads to leave. Abby followed Riley to the school parking lot and watched him unlock his SUV with the keyless entry.

“Hi,” she said.

He turned at the sound of her voice, but didn't look all that surprised to see her. “Hi.”

“I just wanted to thank you for coming. It meant a lot to Kimmie.”
And to me,
she thought. But he wouldn't want to know that.

“You don't have to thank me. I enjoy spending time with her.” He rubbed his hand across the back of his neck. “About missing her meeting, Abby, I tried to apologize to her. But she was too busy showing me around her classroom. She's a terrific kid. Sorry isn't anywhere near enough. It's just that—”

She held up her hand. “You don't have to explain.”

“I want to.”

“I don't want to hear it.”

“Okay. For now.” His expression turned intense. “Do you want to hear how I feel about what you said the last time we talked?”

Heat crawled up Abby's neck and settled in her cheeks. Apparently it was too much to hope that he either hadn't heard or would choose to ignore her emotional confession. If she hadn't been so doggone upset
about what he'd done to Kimmie, her guard would never have slipped enough for her to admit she'd fallen for him.

“It's no big deal, Riley. Just forget it.”

“I don't want to forget it. I can't.”

“I plan to.” She huffed out a breath. It was time to change the subject and she knew just the thing. “There's something you should know.”

“What's that?”

“Fred finally called me back.”

“And?” His mouth thinned as a muscle contracted in his cheek.

“He wanted to give me a head's-up that an entertainment reporter would be calling me for an interview.” With her hand, she shielded her eyes from the sun's glare and stared into eyes as blue and clear as the Texas sky. Big mistake. She cleared her throat. “Fred wants me to tell her that even though we're divorced, he's a terrific father who supports his daughter and me financially and emotionally. That we're terrific friends and parent our beautiful child together.”