Ready for Marriage?

by Beverly Barton; Ann Major Anne Marie Winston

  The thought made him want to snarl. She had no business going out with another man after she’d kissed him like that! Deb might have been the only other woman he’d ever had a physical relationship with, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew he wouldn’t lose his head with just any woman like he nearly had with Kris. God, they’d practically spontaneously combusted the other night. He still got hard every time he thought about it.

  He was so confused. He wanted her. He didn’t want to want her. He was afraid to want her. Kristin was a very different woman than Deb had been. He hadn’t ever envisioned himself with anyone besides the wife he’d adored.

  Sandy had been right. Kristin was very definitely a woman now. All woman. But she wasn’t the woman for him. He should be glad she was dating.

  Glad. Ha! He felt anything but. In fact, he felt like throwing a few more things around the room at the thought of Kristin going out with someone else.

  Kristin worked late the following Monday. After she checked to be sure the rest of the staff had gone home, she pulled up the computer programs that contained the previous year’s daily expense entries. Although it was looking more and more likely that Cathie had been steadily embezzling from the sanctuary, she was still reluctant to believe it. So reluctant, in fact, that she had yet to report it to the board.

  As she studied the figures on the screen before her, a note taped to her monitor caught her eye. Tuesday, 1:00 p.m.

  She’d put it there so she wouldn’t forget. Rusty Sheffield had asked her to have lunch with him tomorrow. Although he said he wanted her to catch him up on what she was doing, he’d made it plain that he considered it more than a business lunch. He’d told her how beautiful she’d looked the day of Summerfest. He’d asked her if she was involved with anyone and had made his relief plain when she’d told him no.

  It wasn’t a lie, she told herself fiercely. A barely civil friendship with Derek is not a relationship. And she ignored the little pain that shot through her heart.

  She’d promised herself she wasn’t going to sit around and moon over Derek. And so she’d said yes to Rusty, and yes to a real date on Friday night with the electrician who’d come by the shelter to repair the wiring. He was young, handsome and single, and she’d be a fool to wait around, hoping Derek would love her someday. This could be her last chance at a relationship!

  A knock at the back door of the office startled her, and she quickly minimized the program she had open. Then she went to the door with a pleasant smile fixed firmly in place although the hours posted at the entry clearly stated the sanctuary was closed for the evening. But when she glanced through the window, she recognized Derek’s SUV parked beside her little compact car. Her heart rate doubled and her mouth went dry. Good heavens. Had her wishful thinking somehow communicated itself to him?

  Ridiculous, she told herself. You’re being ridiculous. But she couldn’t prevent her body’s response any more than she could hide the smile that lit her face when she saw Derek and Mollie on the other side of the screen door. Friendly. Be friendly but not too familiar.

  ‘‘What a nice surprise!’’ she said. ‘‘What brings you two my way?’’

  ‘‘I wanted to talk to you,’’ Derek said, ‘‘and Mollie wants to see you, too.’’

  Just then, Mollie spotted Hobby, the good-natured retriever mix who was the office mascot. With a squeal, she went racing toward the dog, who obligingly flopped down and exposed his belly for her to rub.

  ‘‘Well,’’ said Derek wryly, ‘‘she did want to see you. Looks like you’ve been upstaged by a dog.’’

  ‘‘It wouldn’t be the first time that’s happened.’’ It was the first time she’d seen him since the night he’d kissed her, and that kiss stood squarely in the middle of her attempt at normalcy. Then she realized she was standing there smiling foolishly. ‘‘Come on in. I was still working.’’

  He frowned as he followed her into the inner office, leaning against a file cabinet while she propped herself on the edge of her desk. ‘‘This job doesn’t pay enough for you to be putting in extra hours.’’

  ‘‘I won’t once I’m accustomed to everything.’’ She lowered her voice even though she knew no one else was around. ‘‘I’ve been going through the expense entries, trying to find out where that money went.’’

  Understanding crept into his eyes. ‘‘And you don’t want to do it when anyone’s around.’’

  ‘‘Right.’’ Her spirits, buoyed by his visit, fell as she recalled her concerns. ‘‘I can’t find a thing that points to anyone other than Cathie being the culprit.’’

  ‘‘Have you told the board?’’

  She shook her head. ‘‘Not yet.’’

  ‘‘You’re going to have to tell them soon.’’

  ‘‘I know.’’ She sighed. ‘‘I just want to check a few more things before I do.’’

  There was a small silence. Derek stuck his head out the door and when he looked back at her, he was grinning. ‘‘Mollie’s lying on top of the dog.’’

  ‘‘Hobby’s a patient fellow with children,’’ she said. ‘‘How’s she doing?’’

  ‘‘Pretty good. Day care is going fine now, thanks to your hair.’’

  She smiled, reaching up a hand to flip a lock forward absently. She’d been wearing it down much of the time since her talk with Faye and she was getting used to the weight of it. ‘‘That’s good.’’

  ‘‘Yeah, except that I’m not going to be able to keep her there.’’

  ‘‘What?’’ She straightened, her voice displaying her concern. ‘‘Why not?’’

  ‘‘It’s a great place,’’ he said, ‘‘but the hours are too confining. I’m going to look for a baby-sitter who can be more flexible when I have to stay late, and who can keep her longer on clinic nights.’’

  ‘‘Oh. I never thought about that. Maybe I could—’’

  But Derek held up a finger. ‘‘No. You couldn’t. But if you’d be willing to help me interview prospects, I’d be grateful for the additional opinion.’’

  ‘‘Of course.’’ He was right. And she should be glad that it had finally sunk into his thick skull that she wasn’t going to be Mollie’s baby-sitter for the rest of their lives. But…

  Another silence fell, this one less comfortable than the one before. Talking about baby-sitting invariably led her to thoughts of the reason Derek needed a sitter, which led to guilt, which in turn made her annoyed with herself because there was absolutely no reason in the world for her to feel guilty for wanting a life of her own.

  ‘‘So how was your date on the fourth?’’

  ‘‘Fine.’’ If she were honest, it had been a pain in the butt. The man seemed to have more arms than an octopus and all of them had been determined to touch her. She’d never been so glad to get home in her life. She’d practically had to shut the door on him—definitely the best part of the evening.

  ‘‘Did you enjoy the fireworks?’’

  ‘‘Yes. Did you?’’

  ‘‘Yes, although Mollie missed you. She kept asking when you were coming.’’

  ‘‘I’m sorry.’’ And she was. She would much rather have been with Derek and Mollie. But they’d been estranged after that disastrous kiss and she hadn’t imagined that he would want her company.

  ‘‘What did you think of the new rockets they added this year?’’

  ‘‘They were interesting. I like the sounds they make.’’

  ‘‘Yeah. We walked around and looked for you, but we didn’t see you anywhere.’’

  She stared at him, a suspicion forming in her head as his disconnected statements began to mesh. ‘‘Are you trying to find out if I really went to the fireworks?’’

  To her surprise, a deep flush spread up his neck and he avoided her eyes. ‘‘It was kind of odd that we didn’t see you.’’

  ‘‘Well, I was there.’’ What was going on here? He’d made it plain that he wasn’t ready for a relationship, that he wasn’t even sure he had liked kissing her enough to w
ant to repeat the experience. He’d said he needed time to figure out what to do about her, as if she were some bothersome task he had to schedule and complete.

  ‘‘Are you going to see him again?’’ There was a distinctly challenging note in his voice, one that took her even further aback.

  ‘‘Why?’’ Had he always been this tenacious? She was starting to wish she had the nerve to tell him she was sleeping with Craig on a regular basis, but she couldn’t bring herself to lie.

  ‘‘If he’s going to be appearing in your life frequently, I want to meet him.’’

  ‘‘You know,’’ she said conversationally, holding onto her temper by a thread, ‘‘I’m well over the age of consent and you’re not my father.’’

  ‘‘Are you going to see him again?’’ He was inflexible. Impossible.

  She hesitated, then realized he wasn’t going to back off until she answered him. ‘‘Probably not.’’ She narrowed her eyes. ‘‘My dating life is none of your business.’’

  He shoved off the file cabinet abruptly and headed out of her office. She followed, completely bewildered and more than a little annoyed, as he bent and swung Mollie into his arms.

  ‘‘Give Kristin a kiss,’’ he said to his daughter. And as Kristin reached out and caught the little girl, Derek sent her an enigmatic smile over the child’s head. ‘‘Everything you do is my business, Kris.’’

  On Thursday night, Faye got fast food for Mollie and him, although he had to snatch bites of his burger between patients. By the time he finished examining the last animal of the evening and got to the fries they were stone-cold and unappealing, so he pitched them into the trash. The food was a far cry from the usual tasty meals he’d enjoyed when Kristin was in his life.

  God, he missed her. He’d stopped by the sanctuary Monday night hoping to catch her there. But their encounter had left him dissatisfied and somewhat alarmed by her evasiveness.

  Was she serious about dating other people? He’d expected to have more time. More time for what?

  More time to procrastinate, he finally told himself. More time to tell himself they weren’t right for each other. More time to pretend he wasn’t interested, didn’t want her, wasn’t going to care if she got involved with some other man. More time to pedal backward every time she came near.

  He was, he realized, exactly the same as a woman who said no when she meant yes. He wanted Kristin, he just hadn’t wanted to admit it. She’d been right when she accused him of keeping her around for convenience sake, only it wasn’t jobs he wanted her for. If she was tied up with him, she was too busy to be going out with anyone else.

  Only trouble with that strategy was, she wasn’t around anymore. The Fourth of July had been a prime example. As he and Mollie had sat on their solitary blanket at the fireworks, his mind had been a jumble, mixed emotions clouding his brain.

  He’d looked for Kris. He’d taken Mollie for a walk through the crowds to buy some caramel corn although his real mission, he could finally allow himself to see, had been to find Kris. But they hadn’t seen Kristin and her date, and later, as his daughter dozed off on the blanket beside him and the sky exploded into bright shards of light, all he could think of was Kris. Why hadn’t he seen her? It was possible he’d simply missed her, but surely she’d have called out to Mollie, even if she didn’t want to talk to him.

  Had they decided not to attend? And if not, where were they and what were they doing? He gritted his teeth against the anger that rose once more at the thought of Kristin in another man’s arms. He had no right to be mad, he told himself. He wasn’t ready to declare himself, wasn’t prepared to begin taking her out. He should be glad that she was turning her attentions away from him.

  But he wasn’t. He felt as if he’d had a bucket of ice water tossed in his face and he recognized that he probably deserved it. All right, he told himself. If you want her, you’re going to have to let her know.

  He felt as if he’d been wrapped in insulation since Deb had died, as if his feelings had been cushioned, his interest in the other sex muted by his loss. But now his insulation had been stripped away and all he could think of was how much he wanted Kristin.

  Without a conscious decision, he found himself steering the car toward her town house. He was so deep in thought that he was a little startled when Mollie realized where they were and squealed with excitement.

  As he climbed out of the car he was suddenly struck by a bolt of uncertainty. Should he be here? Should he be considering altering the friendship he and Kristin had shared for so many years? She’d altered it first, he reminded himself. She’d made him think, made him aware of her, made him need again. It was too late to turn back.

  He unstrapped Mollie from her car seat and went to Kristin’s door. He was just about to ring the bell when he realized the door was open a crack. Cautiously, he poked a finger against it, and when it swung open, he peered into the compact living room beyond.

  Kristin lay on the couch, fast asleep.

  Good lord. His blood ran cold at the thought of her lying there, completely defenseless with her front door unlocked to any predator that might come along. Anxiety rose. Was she ill? That wasn’t like her, to leave a door ajar.

  Setting Mollie down, he crossed the room and knelt at the side of the couch. He cupped her cheek in his palm, relieved to feel the cool silk of her flesh beneath his touch. She wasn’t feverish and he felt his inner tension level ease fractionally.

  ‘‘Kris,’’ he murmured. ‘‘Come on, Sleeping Beauty. Time to wake up.’’

  ‘‘Tristin?’’ Mollie squirmed in between his knees and leaned over to put her tiny palm on Kristin’s other cheek. ‘‘Time to wate up.’’

  Kristin stirred beneath their hands. Her eyelids lazily floated open, and she blinked twice. As she focused on their faces, a luminous smile crossed her face. ‘‘I must be dreaming,’’ she said in a soft, husky voice.

  She put a hand to Mollie’s cheek, but her eyes held his. ‘‘Hi.’’

  ‘‘Hi!’ Tan I read a ’tory?’’ Mollie’s attention was already diverted.

  ‘‘Sure. You know where they are.’’ As Mollie wriggled free and dashed off, she continued to stare up at him.

  Derek slid his thumb forward and gently brushed it over the full line of her lips, still holding her gaze. ‘‘Your door was ajar. I thought something was wrong.’’

  Her eyes clouded. ‘‘Heavens. I’m sorry. I’m just exhausted—I must not have closed it properly.’’ As he continued to whisper his thumb over the petal-soft plumpness of her lower lip, she focused on him again. ‘‘Are you sure I’m not dreaming?’’

  Five

  Derek leaned over Kristin. ‘‘You’re not dreaming.’’ He cast a glance at Mollie, who was already immersed in one of the books Kristin kept in a basket on the floor for her, then looked back at Kristin, his gaze lingering on her lips. They looked soft and warm and he badly wanted to kiss her, to shape and mold and caress until she returned the pressure of his lips.

  But not in front of his daughter. ‘‘Have you eaten anything?’’ he asked as he sat back, his hip bumping hers.

  She was staring at him as if he’d grown a second head and her eyes were wide and dazed. ‘‘Wha—?’’

  ‘‘I’m hungry.’’ He cut her off, not ready to deal with a discussion of his feelings yet. ‘‘If you haven’t eaten, we can eat together.’’

  ‘‘I haven’t,’’ she said absently. ‘‘I came home from work and crashed.’’ Then he could see her brain scramble into high gear. ‘‘I bet you just finished work and haven’t eaten anything, either. Derek, you can’t forget to eat. If you get sick you won’t—’’

  He shifted his hand across her mouth, shaking his head. ‘‘Do you have any eggs?’’

  She nodded behind his hand, her gaze locked on his.

  ‘‘Good,’’ he said. ‘‘I’ll make us some omelets.’’

  ‘‘But—’’

  ‘‘Go get your pajamas on.’’ He stood and headed
for the kitchen. ‘‘Come on, Mollie. You want to help Daddy cook?’’

  ‘‘Uh-huh!’’ His daughter scrambled to her feet.

  He found a skillet, eggs, butter, milk and cheese and with Mollie’s ‘‘help,’’ started the omelets. He couldn’t cook many things but he was competent with the few he could.

  By the time he’d set the small table in her kitchen, the first omelet was done and he put it in the oven on a plate to keep it warm until the rest were finished.

  Kristin walked into the kitchen a few minutes later, clad in an oversize T-shirt and jogging shorts.

  He frowned. ‘‘I thought you were going to put your pajamas on.’’

  She rolled her eyes. ‘‘These are my pajamas.’’ She fingered the edge of the bottoms. ‘‘Minus the shorts.’’

  Minus the shorts. He turned back to the skillet, doing his best not to think about Kristin in nothing but that T-shirt skimming the tops of her thighs. Thighs he could imagine all too well, thanks to those short skirts she’d taken to wearing recently and the trim little shorts that bared a smooth expanse of creamy legs that looked a mile long.

  He flipped the last omelet, then withdrew the plate from the oven, slid the omelet atop the others and set it on the trivet he’d placed in the center of the table.

  ‘‘How about some salad with that?’’ Kristin retrieved a bag of lettuce and assorted salad ingredients from the refrigerator, added several bottles of dressing and salad bowls, and then they took their seats.

  As they always had when they ate together, they clasped hands and let Mollie say the little prayer she’d learned in Sunday school. When Kristin would have withdrawn her hand afterward, he held onto her with a light grip, and she stilled. ‘‘I’ve really missed our meals together,’’ he said quietly. ‘‘Thanks for letting us join you.’’

  She sent him an almost shy smile from beneath her lashes. ‘‘You’re welcome. I’m glad you stopped by.’’

  ‘‘Me, too, or your door might have been open all night.’’ He sent her a mock-frown, and when she grinned, he finally began to feel that they were almost back on a normal footing. As normal as it could get, considering.