by Karen Muir
Harry smoothed the shell with his fingertips. “A clam?”
“Yes.”
“Where did it go?”
“It probably got eaten.”
Ian gasped. “Who ate it?”
“A sea animal. Maybe a starfish. Sometimes shore birds carry clams up high in their beaks and drop them on rocks to break them open.”
“Wow.”
Their wide-eyed response made her smile. She loved showing them new things and sharing their wonder. If only she could pass on to them her love of nature.
Will squatted between the boys and put his hands on their shoulders. “Guess what, guys. Little boys eat clams, too.”
“They do?”
He nodded. “Remember that cup of soup we had with lunch? That was clam chowder.”
Harry shook his head. “Un-uh.”
Ian giggled. “We ate a clam?”
“You sure did.”
They laughed, and she did, too, aching inside to belong to this family.
When the boys began throwing rocks into the water, she and Will sat on a weathered beach log to watch. When his arm slipped around her waist, she snuggled closer and put her hand on his knee. “Thanks for a wonderful day.”
“You’re welcome.” His free hand covered hers gently. “Let’s have more of them.”
Her chest tightened at his words. Today was their last wonderful day. Once again, she refused to think about it now.
Back on the ferry, they made another sweep of the boat and bought chocolate chunk cookies to munch as they sat looking out the window. The brisk wind had stirred whitecaps on the water. She handed the boys tissues to wipe chocolate off their mouths. After today, she wouldn’t need to carry tissues in her pockets anymore. Her breathing hitched, and she took a tissue for herself to wipe her eyes. Focus on today. Be happy.
On the drive home, the boys fell asleep in their car seats. She turned to watch them nap, so innocent and precious. A wall crumbled inside her and let loose a flood of regrets over the things they’d never do together again. Read stories. Tend goldfish. Bake muffins and plant seeds to watch them grow.
Leaning back against the headrest, she closed her eyes to fix the damn wall and enjoy every last second of this day. I’m having dinner tonight with Will. Think about that.
The boys awoke recharged and ready to play as she and Will got them out of the car. She hit croquet balls with them while Will called Frieda, who soon appeared with a plastic tray of homemade popsicles.
She and Will left the boys munching their icy treat and walked to his car holding hands. “Do you like Italian food?” he asked.
“Love it.”
At the restaurant, they were shown to a secluded black-leather booth. Seated across the table from Will, she tried to still the jitters knocking about her chest. His eyes held the promise of heated lovemaking. Soon. She wanted it, too. Images flooded her brain of lying naked in his arms, his warm, hard flesh pressed against her softness, her hands finger-combing his hair as his mouth closed on her breast. No! That can’t happen. Tonight has to stay casual.
Wrenching her gaze from his, she focused on the candlelit room, the red-and-black decor and wrought-iron railings. She wanted to look back on their last moments spent together with a smile and no regrets.
They ordered wine and lasagna from the black-garbed waiter, who brought their drinks then discreetly disappeared. Will leaned toward her. “Tell me about yourself. There’s so much I don’t know. So much I want to know.”
Carefully, she set down her glass. The last thing she wanted was to talk about herself. “I read a lot and work in my garden. I’m really quite boring.”
He shook his head. “No way. The boys adore you and think you’re great fun.”
“The boys are easy.”
“No, they’re not.” His voice softened. “I sense you’re great fun in all kinds of ways.”
She caught her breath at the sexual innuendo. “You’d be surprised.”
He grinned. “I’m counting on it.”
The look in his eyes seared her from head to toe. Hastily, she drank from her water glass to cool herself down. Easy now. As much as she loved the flirtatious banter between them, she had to steer the conversation back to him and his boys. “How is the tree-house project going?”
He crossed his eyes before sharing the mishaps of the father-and-sons building project. Spilled nails, misplaced tools, boyish tears from hammered thumbs.
Listening, she focused on his fingers gripping the stem of his wineglass. Will had a craftsman’s hands, strong enough to hurl a football and swing a hammer, yet gentle enough to tousle a boy’s hair and tend a skinned knee. Hands she envisioned caressing her bare skin.
Snatching a breadstick from the basket, she forced her attention back to the conversation. “So last night the three of you slept in the tree house?”
“Two of us did.”
She laughed. A caring father like Will was sure to be a sensitive lover, despite the smoldering fire in his eyes. Just thinking about it warmed her all over.
After dinner, they strolled hand in hand through a nearby park. Darkness had fallen, and streetlamps lit the brick walkway. Dry leaves on the maple trees rustled in the chill breeze, but Will’s nearness somehow shielded her from the cold. They came to a gushing fountain that spilled into a round pool. He fished pennies from his pocket and held one out to her. “Want to make a wish?”
“You bet.” She took the coin, paused a moment, then tossed it into the pool.
Seconds later, his penny plopped into the water close to hers. “I’ll tell you my wish, if you tell me yours.”
Mine would make me blush and stir things up. “No way. That will jinx them.”
They drove home, the air crackling with desire between them. Walking side by side to her front door, she steeled herself for the moment she’d dreaded all evening. “It’s still early. Come inside.”
He caught her hand, so she faced him. “Are you going to make my wish come true?”
Her throat tightened. If only I could. “Did you wish for cheese and crackers and more wine?”
“Not even close.” He half smiled. “But I’ll settle for that.”
Her insides roiling, she led him inside, praying the wine would give her courage. In the kitchen, she set two goblets on the kitchen counter and uncorked the wine. No more stalling. Tell him now.
But how to begin? Her hand shook as she poured.
He came up behind her and slid his arms around her waist. His warm lips nuzzled her neck, sending tingles down her spine. She stilled as he nipped her ear, his breath fanning her cheek. She set down the wine bottle as a scolding inner voice hissed, “Stop him!”
Ignoring it, she turned in his arms. He pulled her against the hard length of him and met her lips hungrily. Her resolve slipped away like a feather in the wind. She hugged him to her as he deepened the kiss, his hands caressing her back and molding her body to his. Lost in a world of touches and sighs, she lost track of how long she stood in his arms—five minutes? Ten? Time ceased to matter.
At last, he pulled back and rested his forehead against hers. “I’ve been wanting to do that for a very long time.”
“Me, too.” Wrapped in his heat, she felt boneless and pliant.
He rubbed his cheek against hers, his voice a harsh whisper. “No need to rush. We’ll wait as long as you want to.” His lips swept down her face to the cleft in her chin. “No matter how long.”
She tipped her head back. “I might need considerable time.”
“No problem.” He straightened and met her gaze. “Then again, who knows what tomorrow will bring? One of us might get hit by a truck.”
He was teasing. Wasn’t he? “What a shame that would be, never to have…followed through.”
“Exactly. And it’s not like you and I just met.”
“No, I suppose not.”
His fingers trailed lightly down her cheek, and her heart raced, jamming her rib cage hard. He kissed her again, a
nd she felt his arousal. She wanted him, too, like she’d never wanted a man before. How could this feel so right, yet be so wrong? Her insides churned. Will was the right man for her, and he was clearly ready. Could she forget for one night, she was the wrong woman for him?
“Will…”
“Hmm?”
She hesitated, feeling poised on the edge of a cliff. “I’m ready now. I don’t need more time.”
“Don’t tease,” he warned.
“I’m serious.”
He straightened and eyed her curiously. “What’s the hurry?”
“I’m worried about that truck.” She undid the top button of his shirt.
He put his hand over hers, stopping it. “I came on strong, but I was only kidding…sort of.”
“You had it right. It’s not like we just met.”
When he hesitated still, she brought his hand to her mouth and slowly nipped his fingers, one by one. Pressed close to him, she felt his body tense.
“Easy, Gina. You may have regrets tomorrow.”
Despite his warning, she went up on her toes to recapture his wicked mouth. Her hands moved between them to claim a second button, then a third.
He gave a low growl. “Okay, now you’ve done it.”
He bent to sweep her up into his arms, and she yelped as he swung her around full circle then carted her across the living room like an amorous caveman. She laughed, loving the fire she’d lit inside him, like a primal woman who’s beckoned her mate into her firelit cave. He paused at the hallway.
“Second door on the left,” she murmured.
Inside her bedroom, he set her back on her feet and traced her cheek gently with his fingertips. “Are you sure about this?”
Desire lit his eyes, but he would stop, if she said to. She loved him even more for that and pushed aside her last vestige of conscience. “This was meant to be.”
He lowered his mouth to hers for a whisper-soft kiss. Eyes closed; she wished this tender moment would never end. His mouth moved on hers, as gentle coaxing gave way to demand.
…
Sometime later she awoke to his caress. She sat up in bed as he sank down beside her, fully dressed. “I’ve got to get back. Frieda will be getting antsy.”
She nodded, savoring the touch of his hand on her arm.
“Any regrets?”
“Not a one.” But already guilt pricked her soul.
“Me, neither.” He tweaked a strand of her hair then stood. “Get some sleep. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Tomorrow. Right. When everything would fall apart. Watching him cross to the bedroom door, a shattering wave of pain engulfed her. There would be no tomorrows for her and Will.
…
Will woke to a bright-blue sky through his bedroom skylight and grinned as though he’d just scaled Mt. Rainier. He and Gina had become lovers last night. She’d been willing and eager, and he couldn’t wait to see her again.
Hands beneath his head, he stretched out his legs and envisioned their next intimate encounter. Hearing whispers, he turned to see Ian and Harry watching him from the doorway.
“He’s awake.” Harry bounded toward him with a fierce war cry and gave a flying leap onto the bed.
“Easy, pal.” Will caught him with both hands to cushion his landing. Ian was seconds behind, a second bundle of energy eager for a wrestling match.
They tussled briefly, then Will slipped beneath the covers and growled like an angry bear. The boys squealed with delighted terror, and the chase was on, from his bedroom to theirs.
He tickled them in their beds then straightened to catch his breath. “Time to get dressed, guys.”
“We want to make pancakes.”
“Hmm.” Pancakes with his boys meant a lot of wiping up. “Dress first, then we’ll talk.” Gina would have said something like that, he was sure. He was proud of the way he was catching on.
Moments later, he stood in the kitchen watching his little guys measure and stir. Ian and Harry had totally captured his heart, and he’d begun telling them so when he tucked them in at night. Nothing sappy or awkward, just a hug and a matter-of-fact “I love you” to them both.
The boys weren’t saying “I love you” back yet, but he could see it in their eyes and the way they greeted him after work. They craved physical contact with him, from wrestling, to lap sitting, to reading stories together. It surprised him how much he craved it, too.
Now he had a woman in his life. as well, someone to talk with and share a laugh. Someone to share his bed. He grinned. Gina was far more than a casual affair. She was caring and smart and totally honest, a woman much different—much better—than his ex. A woman he could trust. She loved his children, and she turned him on. He was one lucky guy.
After pancakes and cleanup, the boys were anxious to go to the park. Will filled a backpack with crackers, peanut butter, apples, and water. “Want to invite Gina?”
“Yes!” both boys cried.
But when he phoned, she declined his invitation. Morning-after regrets? “Are you okay?”
“No, I’m fine.”
But her normally cheerful voice sounded flat. Something was wrong. He walked to the backyard with his cell phone, out of the boys’ hearing. “Is this about last night?”
She paused. “Last night was wonderful, but you and I really do need to talk.”
Frowning, he sat on the top step. “Sounds serious.”
“It is.”
“I thought we addressed everything we needed to last night—Roderick, Bree. Us.”
“There’s more.”
His grip tightened on the phone. “Unless you‘ve got some horrible, dark secret, let’s just focus on the present.”
She sighed. “I wish we could—you don’t know how much. But there are things you need to know.”
“Okay.” If they had to play true confessions, it was best to get it over with. “I’ll come by this afternoon.” He ended the call, his high spirits gone.
…
When Gina opened her front door to Will, he saw none of last night’s warmth in her eyes. Wearing jeans and a T-shirt, she looked lovely, but miserable. He was tempted to take her in his arms. Whatever was troubling her could surely be solved or gotten past. But her folded arms and stiff posture sent a clear “hands off” warning.
He hooked his thumbs in his front pockets. “Okay, let’s talk.”
She nodded. “Let’s sit in the kitchen. Would you like coffee?”
“No thanks.”
Seated across from her, he braced his arms on the kitchen table. “So what’s this about?”
“I haven’t been honest with you, Will.”
“How so?”
“I’m not who you think I am.”
He frowned. “You’re not Gina Dunn?”
“That part is true. But I’ve never been a nanny. Before I came to work for you, I didn’t know a thing about kids.”
Surprised, he leaned toward her. “Why would you want to pose as a nanny?”
“I wanted to get close to you.”
He tensed. This was not what he’d expected.
“I’m a botanist.” She bit her lip. “Recently, I returned from a year-long research trip in Canada and discovered that my brother had been sent to prison.”
A prickly unease crept down his spine. “What does this have to do with me?”
Staring down at the tabletop, she paused. “My brother and I are close. We helped each other survive a difficult childhood. And Kyle is the only family I have left.”
Her brother “Kyle.” In prison. Will’s brain made a connection he quickly dismissed. No. It couldn’t be. “Get to the point.”
“Kyle was sent to prison for stealing jewelry, but he swore he was innocent. He told me he’d been framed by the real thief—his employer.” Her gaze lifted to meet his squarely. “You.”
He gasped. “Kyle Redeker is your brother?”
She nodded.
Stunned, he shook his head. “Why would you want to get c
lose to me?” The answer hit like a sucker punch to his gut. “You’re out for revenge.”
“No. I only wanted to help Kyle—”
“By proving I was the real thief.” Gina had been out to get him all along. A dizzying sense of betrayal swept through him. He’d been blindsided. Duped. Stabbed in the back. He and his children meant nothing to her. “How could you do this?”
She reached a hand toward him, but he pulled away.
“I didn’t know you. And from what Kyle told me, I thought you were a criminal.”
He threw up his hands. “Coming after me—I get that. I’m a grown man. But using my kids?” His hands slammed the table. “That’s as low as it gets.”
Envisioning his sons’ hurt, he stood abruptly, knocking over his chair. “Dammit, Gina, I trusted you with my children. Ian and Harry love you. How could you treat us this way?”
She stood, too, her face pinched and white. “I never meant to hurt them. You’ve got to believe me.”
He clenched his fists at her pathetic excuses. “It doesn’t matter what I believe. The boys trusted you, and you let them down.”
“I was wrong about you. I see that now. You could never do anything dishonorable.”
Her disloyalty burned his insides like poison. “Your brother is the dishonorable one. And you. For infiltrating my family to target me.”
She flinched at his words then spoke in a rush. “There must be another explanation for what happened that day. Maybe Smitty took the diamonds, or another member of your crew.”
He growled at her diehard defense of Kyle. Talk about denial. “There was no one else. Your brother is a damned thief.”
Shock swam in her eyes, and she swayed. He caught her arm and sat her back in her chair.
“Kyle swore he was innocent,” she said softly.
“And you believed him.”
“Of course, he’s my brother. He’s never lied to me before.”
You just never caught him. Will righted his overturned chair and sat back down across from her. “It’s time you heard the truth.”
He rubbed his forehead, fighting to stay calm. “Kyle worked on my construction crew. On the day of the theft, he and I were both at the Vandenburgs’ home. There were no other visitors, or deliveries, or members of my crew inside the house that day. The police checked that out thoroughly.”
