The Aristocrat and the Single Mom (10 page)

‘Not counting Felice, there were five of them.’ He shrugged. ‘I guess they ranged in age from six to eleven.’

So altogether he’d been in charge of six children between the ages of four and eleven? A fourteen-year-old boy? What on earth had these people been thinking? ‘Young, then,’ she managed.

‘And loud.’

There was a sigh behind the words. She understood it too. Hung-over parents and rowdy children? Not a good mix.

He turned to her. ‘What would you do to keep a bunch of noisy kids occupied?’

‘If the weather’s good?’

He nodded.

‘A game of cricket on the beach.’

‘Precisely.’

She let go of his arm and stared at him. Her stomach rolled over and over. ‘You took them all to…I don’t know, behind the stables, where they could make as much noise as they wanted and you started a game of cricket.’

‘That’s right.’

She’d asked him to play cricket with Jesse. On the beach. On his own. Had there been a pond? Had someone drowned? ‘What happened?’

‘Not the stables, but the machinery shed. A tractor had been left out overnight and a couple of the younger boys became most interested in it.’

She’d bet. Had he taken them for a ride—an over-confident fourteen-year-old—and had someone fallen off…or worse?

‘But I eventually managed to shoo them away and we started playing.’

So far, so good.

‘But someone got a ball in the face—bloody nose.’

She wrinkled her own nose in sympathy. ‘It does happen, you know.’ He couldn’t blame himself for that.

‘While I was dealing with that, a couple of the younger boys sneaked back to the tractor.’

Kate closed her eyes. When she opened them she realised he’d started walking again. She caught up with him.

‘One climbed up onto it, somehow knocked it out of gear, fell off when it started moving.’ He dragged a hand down his face. ‘The back wheel ran over his leg, crushing his ankle.’

Kate pulled him to a halt because her heart had started to burn more than her feet. ‘Simon, that was an accident.’

‘An avoidable one.’

‘It was
not
your fault.’ There should’ve been adults around. A fourteen-year-old should not have been made to feel responsible for that!

‘My parents certainly held me responsible.’ The anguish in his eyes was quickly masked. ‘They were appalled at my negligence.’

‘Your…No! They should’ve been appalled at their own.’ She stared into his closed and shuttered face. ‘No,’ she whispered. ‘They were wrong. Simon, I swear to you, they were wrong.’

But she could tell he didn’t believe her. ‘Children are so quick. When Jesse was five we were playing in the back garden. I went inside to get us some drinks—I wouldn’t have been gone forty seconds. In that time Jesse had climbed a tree, which he knew he wasn’t allowed to do. He fell out of it and broke his arm.’

‘Nobody would ever accuse you of negligence, Kate.’

‘But can’t you see it’s the same—Jesse’s accident and your cousin’s accident?’

‘No, it’s not.’ He rested his hands on his knees as if the weight pressing down on him had become too much. ‘Lewis walks with a limp to this very day. He gets about with a cane.’

Her heart filled with sympathy for this bear of a man who only wanted to keep people safe. Jesse’s accident had shaken her confidence, had filled her with nameless fears for a while. And if Paul had started throwing around accusations…but he hadn’t. Everyone had been supportive.

Simon hadn’t had that kind of support and reassurance!

Her hands bunched into fists. ‘What happened to you afterwards, Simon?’

He straightened. ‘I was sent to military boarding school.’

She didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded grim.

‘Lots of marching,’ he explained. He smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. ‘Apparently it’s character building.’

Fiddlesticks!

‘I was sent there the next day.’

And then it hit her. They’d sent him away from Felice. They’d drummed into him that he couldn’t be trusted around small children and then they’d sent him away from Felice. Nausea rose up through her. His parents had deserved to be skinned alive.

Simon suddenly swung round to her. He gripped her shoulders, his eyes burning down into hers. ‘You have to see why it’s better that I stay away from children.’

No, she didn’t!

‘Me and children, we don’t mix.’

‘Simon, you—’

‘No!’

He cupped her face, pressing his thumbs to her lips to stem the flow of her words. The determination in his eyes shredded her heart. ‘I’m not cut out for it, Kate. I…I just can’t do it.’

Very gently he removed his hands. The mask she’d started to recognise slipped back into place. He set his shoulders and lifted his chin. ‘I have no intention of becoming a father.’

The words rang a death knell through a last hope she hadn’t even known she’d clutched near.

O
N
W
EDNESDAY
afternoon, when Simon arrived back at Kate’s after a day of sightseeing, he followed the sound of shouts and laughter out to the back garden. Since Sunday night, he and Kate had skirted around each other—polite and civilised, doing their best to keep their distance, doing what they could to make things easy for themselves.

During the day, Kate had gone to work. During the day, Simon had explored beaches, inlets and bays, had gone swimming and snorkelling. In short, he was having a holiday. Like Kate had told him to.

And it had helped.

He didn’t want to admit it, but it had. Tension he’d grown so used to that he’d forgotten it even existed had eased out of him, leaving him feeling more relaxed than he had in years. It didn’t stop him from clenching from the inside out whenever he saw Kate, though. Like he was doing right now.

Kate stood between a makeshift goal consisting of a wheelie bin on one side and Jesse’s bike on the other. ‘C’mon.’ She half crouched, gesturing with both hands. ‘Give it your best shot.’

Jesse stood several feet away, a soccer ball at his feet. Kate had told Simon that Jesse would be back from his dad’s today.

Or was that warned?

Jesse screwed his face up in concentration. So did Kate. For a moment they looked so alike it made Simon grin.

Jesse took one step back, then another. He pulled in a breath, then he surged forward and kicked the ball. It bounced off the garage wall behind Kate. Jesse raced around the garden, arms above his head. ‘That’s another one to me.’

‘Odds are stacked in your favour, bucko!’ She bounced on the balls of her feet, pretended to spit on her hands. ‘I was off balance. C’mon—again.’

Simon wasn’t sure who was having more fun, Kate or Jesse. He laughed out loud at her comical excitement when she saved the next shot.

She swung to him and a smile lit her face. ‘Hey, Simon, have a good day?’

‘I did.’ He lowered himself onto one of the chairs around the outdoor table, content to watch. Jesse kicked another goal and Simon remembered his manners. ‘Hello, Jesse.’

It earned him a grin. ‘G’day.’ Jesse drawled the word out as long as he could. ‘My dad said that’s what I had to say to you when I saw you next ’cause it’s real Ocker.’

Simon blinked. ‘Ocker?’

‘You know, Australian.’ Jesse drawled that out long and hard too. ‘He said it’d make you laugh.’

Simon made himself laugh and Jesse turned back to his game, apparently satisfied.

‘What did you get up to today?’ Kate asked as Jesse put another goal past her.

Apparently she could play with Jesse and talk to him at the same time. He couldn’t manage to look at her and talk at the same time. She wore short shorts and the long length of her tanned legs had his tongue cleaving to the roof of his mouth. He dragged his gaze to Jesse, setting up for his next shot, instead. ‘I discovered Fingal Bay today.’

‘Ooh, it’s beautiful, isn’t it?’

Another goal to Jesse. Following the ball’s progress, though, brought Kate squarely back into Simon’s line of sight. ‘Er…yeah.’

‘Was it low tide? Did you walk out on the spit to Fingal Island?’

‘I did.’ He kept his gaze solidly on a colourful bird in a nearby flame tree—a rainbow lorikeet. Kate had identified it for him earlier in the week.

‘And did you see dolphins?’

Her simple love for the dolphins touched him. ‘Yes, and I think they’re amazing.’ But not as amazing as her.

‘They run these fabulous sunset kayak tours around there. The dolphins nearly always come and swim with the kayaks. It’s so still and quiet and magical.’

He had a feeling that a sunset anywhere in the world with Kate would be magical. An ache gripped him. ‘Perhaps we should do that some time.’ He glanced at Jesse. ‘All of us,’ he added. Jesse might prove a convenient buffer. ‘When Felice gets back.’

‘Cool,’ Jesse said.

‘Cool,’ Kate said.

Her smile made him feel a million dollars.

Jesse kept practising his goal kicks, Kate kept trying to save them and their chatter died out. Finally Kate called out, ‘Uncle! Sorry, Jesse, but I’m knackered.’

She collapsed at the table with Simon and sent him a grin. He grinned back, but concern shot through him. She looked tired. Lines of strain had appeared around her eyes and mouth. She looked as if she hadn’t slept in a week.

Because of him?

Guilt and regret stole through him. ‘You look exhausted, Kate. Why don’t you go and lie back in a hot bath?’ Felice had always extolled the benefits of a hot bath and if there was ever a candidate in need of one now, it was Kate.

‘Ooh, that sounds divine.’ He could see her practically salivate. But then her gaze darted to Jesse.

Simon shifted uncomfortably on his chair. He didn’t want to be left alone with the boy, but…He glanced back at Kate and found her watching him uncertainly and with the teensiest bit of hope flaring to life in her big blue eyes. Then the hope died.

Simon shoved his shoulders back. ‘You’re only going to be in there, aren’t you?’ He hitched his head towards the house. ‘Within earshot.’ She’d only be a shout away. And she deserved some down time.

If she was concerned about Jesse, that was one thing.

But if she was concerned about him…

‘You could tell him not to leave the garden and not to climb trees and not to play with knives and stuff, couldn’t you?’

‘Yes, but…’ She shook herself. ‘I have to get the dinner on.’

‘I’ll do that.’

The blue eyes flashed with hope again. ‘Are you serious?’

‘Utterly. Take an hour out for yourself.’ She obviously needed it.

‘Okay.’ She pursed her lips, before biting the lower one. ‘Jesse will be fine. He knows what he is and isn’t allowed to do, and he’s a good kid.’

Simon nodded, relieved that not too much was expected of him on the Jesse front.

‘And I was just going to heat up a quiche for dinner and throw some veggies on to steam.’

His relief fled, but he refused to let that show. ‘No problem.’

‘Simon, you’re a doll.’ She leaned across as if to kiss his cheek, but pulled back in double-quick time. ‘Um…thank you.’

‘Take your time,’ he called out as she tripped into the house. Then he turned to Jesse, who’d followed the conversation with apparent interest.

‘Will you go in goal for me?’ Hopeful blue eyes so like Kate’s lifted to Simon’s. ‘It’s just…I can’t kick the ball as hard as I want at Mum ’cause she’s a girl.’

Simon choked back a laugh. Then, ‘All right,’ he agreed slowly. He couldn’t see any harm in that. He remembered going in goal for Felice more times than he could count when she’d gone through her soccer phase.

Jesse grinned a grin like Kate’s.

‘But I’d better warn you, I’m a better goalie than your mum.’
He’d barely got into position, though, when the ball went whizzing past him. ‘Hey! I wasn’t ready.’

Jesse’s grin filled with mischief. ‘How much time do you want?’

‘Brat!’ He crouched in readiness and tried not to grin.

The game was hard and fast. Simon couldn’t keep from praising Jesse’s finer efforts—the kid really had a great kick on him. Jesse scored more goals than Simon saved, but Simon saved more goals than Kate had.

‘Yes!’ Jesse did a victory dance. ‘That’s fifteen to me and only six to you.’

‘Hey, the odds are stacked in your favour, bucko.’ He borrowed the term from Kate. ‘Now, if I was kicking and you were in goal…’

‘All right, then,’ Jesse offered generously. ‘We’ll swap.’

Simon stiffened. What if he kicked the ball into Jesse’s face? What if he kicked it too hard and Jesse sprained a wrist trying to save it? What if…? ‘I…er…can’t.’

‘Why not?’

‘I told your mum I’d get dinner ready.’

‘Can you cook?’

‘Um, no.’ But how hard could it be to warm up a quiche and prepare a few vegetables?

Jesse groaned. ‘And I’m really hungry!’

Simon’s stomach rumbled in sympathy. Jesse’s eyes widened when he heard it. ‘Dinner’s ages away yet, isn’t it?’

Yep, it probably was.

‘You know what I sometimes eat when I get home from school?’

‘What?’

‘Come and see.’

Simon followed Jesse into the house and watched as he grabbed two bowls and two spoons and set them on the table. He collected a box of breakfast cereal and a carton of milk, then sat. He stared at Simon expectantly.

Obviously he expected Simon to join him. Simon sat too. ‘Are you allowed to snack between meals?’

Jesse rolled his eyes before fixing Simon with a withering glare.

‘Sorry.’ Simon held up both hands. ‘I don’t know about these things.’ He wasn’t sure that he liked the sudden gleam that lit Jesse’s eyes.

Jesse filled both bowls with cereal and milk. He pushed one towards Simon. ‘It’s really good.’

Simon hesitated, but it was clear that Jesse expected him to eat it. He grimaced after his first mouthful. ‘Hell, Jesse, this is awfully sweet.’ He wondered if he was allowed to say
hell
around a seven-year-old.

Jesse nodded happily. ‘The best thing is the chocolate comes off the cereal and turns it all to chocolate milk.’

And that was supposed to be a good thing?

‘You’d better hurry up and eat it,’ Jesse added. ‘’Cause if Mum catches us we’re in big trouble.’

Simon nearly dropped his spoon. ‘You said—’

‘Tricked ya!’

Jesse grinned, so pleased with himself that it took all of Simon’s strength to hold back a laugh.

‘And you’ll get into more trouble than me, ’cause I’ll say you told me it was okay and you’re the adult.’

‘Brat.’ Simon pointed his spoon at Jesse. ‘You’ll keep, but in the meantime shut up and eat. I want this mess cleared up before your mother sees it.’

Kate lay back in the bath tub and heaved a sigh of pure pleasure at the enveloping warmth of hot water against her skin, against muscles that ached for no good reason. She heard the clink of spoons scraping china bowls and grinned.

She’d recognised the thump of the soccer ball against the garage wall before. Somehow, Jesse had enticed Simon to play. And now, unless she was very much mistaken, they were both
eating bowls of cereal—Jesse was obviously getting it all his own way. She cocked her head to one side and listened. Yep, definitely two spoons at play there.

All Simon needed was a push in the right direction and he’d soon see what was plain to her—that he’d make a great father, that shutting himself off from the joys and pleasures of fatherhood was not the answer. Oh, she knew he’d return to England at the end of this fortnight and no amount of heart-racing and palm-sweating and toe-curling on her behalf would change that.

She had to try and stop all that heart-racing and palm-sweating and toe-curling. It complicated everything. It couldn’t be good for her health.

A burst of laughter broke into her thoughts. She smiled and stretched, plugged the spout of the tap with her big toe. Dinner would be late tonight, but she didn’t care, not one little bit. She’d stay here for a bit longer and let Jesse work his magic.

She’d try and work some of her own later this evening, and hopefully, when he left Australia, Simon would be happier than when he’d arrived.

Once Kate had Jesse settled in bed, she pulled a bottle of Chardonnay from the fridge, two wineglasses from the cupboard and slipped back outside. They’d eaten dinner at the outdoor table—it had fitted the holiday mood of the afternoon—and she didn’t want that mood dissipating yet. Simon looked relaxed and healthy…and heart-stoppingly heavenly. In another month his hair would be the perfect length.

But he wouldn’t be here for another month.

‘Wine?’ she squeaked.

Simon’s cheek creases appeared in all their heart-popping glory. No heart-popping, she ordered.

He took the wine and the corkscrew, opened the bottle and filled their glasses. She couldn’t help but return his smile. ‘I guess that’s a yes, then.’

‘Did Jesse settle down all right?’

‘He was asleep before his head hit the pillow. I don’t know what the two of you got up to while I was in the bath but he certainly enjoyed it.’

Simon’s wineglass halted halfway to his mouth. A lovely, lovely mouth, she couldn’t help noticing. ‘Why? What did he say?’

‘Nothing.’ She suppressed a grin. ‘Why?’

‘No reason,’ he mumbled. He took a sip and brightened. ‘He’s a great kid.’

‘I think so,’ she agreed.

‘Tell me about your decision to have him. I’m guessing it wasn’t exactly a planned pregnancy?’

‘No, it wasn’t.’ She grimaced, then tried to smile. ‘Paul and I had only just started dating when my father died unexpectedly of a heart attack.’

‘I’m sorry.’ He reached a hand towards her, but he didn’t touch her. ‘It must’ve been hard losing him suddenly like that.’

‘It was. All of a sudden it felt as if I no longer had an anchor in the world.’ She paused, remembering the sheer awfulness of that time. ‘I turned to Paul for comfort.’

‘And Jesse was the result?’

‘And Jesse was the result,’ she agreed. She smiled, this time without any effort. ‘I haven’t regretted my decision for a single moment.’

‘And Paul?’

‘He was understandably shell-shocked at the time, of course, and we stopped dating by mutual consent before Jesse was born.’ Her lips twisted into a rueful smile. ‘We never did have the kind of romance that set the world on fire, but he’s always been supportive. He’s a great dad to Jesse and a good friend to me.’

‘I’m glad.’

And she believed him.

Although the sun had sunk behind the horizon some time ago, the warmth of the day still lingered in the air. Simon set his glass down and stretched with a groan. Kate laughed. ‘Sore, huh?’

‘I haven’t played goalie since Felice was about thirteen and soccer mad.’

She shot forward in her seat, the wine in her glass sloshing over the sides. ‘So you did play with her?’

One side of his oh-so-kissable mouth lifted. ‘I had to. In the interests of peace and quiet and sanity. If nagging were an Olympic sport, Felice would take out gold.’

Relief rushed through her. Despite all his parents had done, he’d maintained a relationship with Felice. It made her feel happier than it had any right to. ‘You were her big brother. She looked up to you.’