by Nora Roberts
ever got in my life.” With his hands still locked on hers, Radley dragged her over to a scaled-down drawing board.
It wasn’t a toy. Hester could see immediately that it was top-of-the-line equipment, if child size. The small swivel stool was worn, but the seat was leather. Radley already had graph paper tacked to the board, and with compass and ruler had begun what appeared to be a set of blueprints.
“Is this Mitch’s?”
“It was, but he said I could use it now, for as long as I wanted. See, I’m making the plans for a space station. This is the engine room. And over here and here are the living quarters. It’s going to have a greenhouse, sort of like the one they had in this movie Mitch let me watch. Mitch showed me how to draw things to scale with these squares.”
“I see.” Pride in her son overshadowed any tension as she crouched down for a better look. “You catch on fast, Rad. This is wonderful. I wonder if NASA has an opening.”
He chuckled, facedown, as he did when he was both pleased and embarrassed. “Maybe I could be an engineer.”
“You can be anything you want.” She pressed a kiss to his temple. “If you keep drawing like this, I’m going to need an interpreter to know what you’re doing. All these tools.” She picked up a square. “I guess you know what they’re for.”
“Mitch told me. He uses them sometimes when he draws.”
“Oh?” She turned the square over in her hand. It looked so—professional.
“Even comic art needs a certain discipline,” Mitch said from the doorway. He held a large glass of orange juice, which was already half gone. Hester rose. He looked—virile, she realized.
There was a faint vee of dampness down the center of his shirt. His hair had been combed through with no more than his fingers, and not for the first time, he hadn’t bothered to shave off the night’s growth of beard. Beside her, her son was happily remodeling his blueprint.
Virile, dangerous, nerve-wracking he might be, but a kinder man she’d never met. Concentrating on that, Hester stepped forward. “I don’t know how to thank you.”
“Rad already has.”
She nodded, then laid a hand on Radley’s shoulder.
“You finish that up, Rad. I’ll be in the other room with Mitch.”
Hester walked into the living room. It was, as she’d come to expect, cluttered and chaotic. Taz nosed around the carpet looking for cookie crumbs. “I thought I knew Rad inside and out,” Hester began. “But I didn’t know a drawing board would mean so much to him. I guess I would have thought him too young to appreciate it.”
“I told you once he had a natural talent.”
“I know.” She gnawed on her lip. She wished she had accepted the offer of coffee so that she’d have something to do with her hands. “Rad told me that you were giving him some art lessons. You’ve done more for him than I ever could have expected. Certainly much more than you’re obligated to.”
He gave her a long, searching look. “It hasn’t got anything to do with obligation. Why don’t you sit down?”
“No.” She linked her hands together, then pulled them apart again. “No, that’s all right.”
“Would you rather pace?”
It was the ease of his smile that had her unbending another notch. “Maybe later. I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am. Rad’s never had . . .” A father. The words had nearly come out before Hester had swallowed them in a kind of horror. She hadn’t meant that, she assured herself. “He’s never had anyone to give him so much attention—besides me.” She let out a little breath. That was what she’d meant to say. Of course it was. “The drawing board was very generous. Rad said it was yours.”
“My father had it made for me when I was about Rad’s age. He’d hoped I’d stop sketching monsters and start doing something productive.” He said it without bitterness, but with a trace of amusement. Mitch had long since stopped resenting his parents’ lack of understanding.
“It must mean a great deal to you for you to have kept it all this time. I know Rad loves it, but shouldn’t you keep it for your own children?”
Mitch took a sip of juice and glanced around the apartment. “I don’t seem to have any around at the moment.”
“But still—”
“Hester, I wouldn’t have given it to him if I hadn’t wanted him to have it. It’s been in storage for years, gathering dust. It gives me a kick to see Rad putting it to use.” He finished off the juice, then set the glass down before he crossed to her. “The present’s for Rad, with no strings attached to his mother.”
“I know that. I didn’t mean—”
“No, I don’t think you did, exactly.” He was watching her now, unsmiling, with that quiet intensity he drew out at unexpected moments. “I doubt if it was even in the front of your mind, but it was milling around in there somewhere.”
“I don’t think you’re using Radley to get to me, if that’s what you mean.”
“Good.” He did as she’d imagined he might, and ran a finger along her jawline. “Because the fact is, Mrs. Wallace, I’d like the kid without you, or you without the kid. It just so happens that in this case, you came as a set.”
“That’s just it. Radley and I are a unit. What affects him affects me.”
Mitch tilted his head as a new thought began to dawn. “I think I’m getting a signal here. You don’t think I’m playing pals and buddies with Rad to get Rad’s mother between the sheets?”
“Of course not.” She drew back sharply, looking toward the office. “If I had thought that, Radley wouldn’t be within ten feet of you.”
“But . . .” He laid his arms on her shoulders, linking his hands loosely behind her neck. “You’re wondering if your feelings for me might be residual of Radley’s feelings.”
“I never said I had feelings for you.”
“Yes, you did. And you say it again every time I manage to get this close. No, don’t pull away, Hester.” He tightened his hands. “Let’s be upfront. I want to sleep with you. It has nothing to do with Rad, and less than I figured to do with the primal urge I felt the first time I saw your legs.” Her eyes lifted warily to his, but held. “It has to do with the fact that I find you attractive in a lot of ways. You’re smart, you’re strong, and you’re stable. It might not sound very romantic, but the fact is, your stability is very alluring. I’ve never had a lot of it myself.”
He brushed his linked hands up the back of her neck. “Now, maybe you’re not ready to take a step like this at the moment. But I’d appreciate it if you’d take a straight look at what you want, at what you feel.”
“I’m not sure I can. You only have yourself. I have Rad. Whatever I do, whatever decisions I make, ripple down to affect him. I promised myself years ago that he would never be hurt by another one of his parents. I’m going to keep that promise.”
He wanted to demand that she tell him about Radley’s father then and there, but the boy was just in the next room. “Let me tell you what I believe. You could never make a decision that could hurt Rad. But I do think you could make one that could hurt yourself. I want to be with you, Hester, and I don’t think our being together is going to hurt Radley.”
“It’s all done.” Radley streamed out of the office, the graph paper in both hands. Hester immediately started to move away. To prove a point to both of them, Mitch held her where she was. “I want to take it and show Josh tomorrow. Okay?”
Knowing a struggle would be worse than submission, Hester stayed still with Mitch’s arms on her shoulders. “Sure you can.”
Radley studied them a moment. He’d never seen a man with his arms around his mother, except his grandpa or his uncle. He wondered if this made Mitch like family. “I’m going over to Josh’s tomorrow afternoon, and I’m staying for a sleepover. We’re going to stay up all night.”
“Then I’ll just have to look after your mom, won’t I?”
“I guess.” Radley began to roll the graph paper into a tube as Mitch had shown him.
�
��Radley knows I don’t have to be looked after.”
Ignoring her, Mitch continued to speak to Radley. “How about if I took your mom on a date?”
“You mean get dressed up and go to a restaurant and stuff?”
“Something like that.”
“That’d be okay.”
“Good. I’ll pick her up at seven.”
“I really don’t think—”
“Seven’s not good?” Mitch interrupted Hester. “All right, seven thirty, but that’s as late as it gets. If I don’t eat by eight, I get nasty.” He gave Hester a quick kiss on the temple before releasing her. “Have a good time at Josh’s.”
“I will.” Radley gathered up his coat and backpack. Then he walked to Mitch and hugged him. The words that had been on the tip of Hester’s tongue dried up. “Thanks for the drawing board and everything. It’s really neat.”
“You’re welcome. See you Monday.” He waited until Hester was at the door. “Seven thirty.”
She nodded and closed the door quietly behind her.
Chapter 7
She could have made excuses, but the fact was, Hester didn’t want to. She knew Mitch had hustled her into this dinner date, but as she crossed the wide leather belt at her waist and secured it, she discovered she didn’t mind. In fact, she was relieved that he’d made the decision for her—almost.
The nerves were there. She stood in front of the bureau mirror and took a few long, deep breaths. Yes, there were nerves, but they weren’t the stomach-roiling sort she experienced when she went on job interviews. Though she wasn’t quite sure where her feelings lay when it came to Mitch Dempsey, she was glad to be certain she wasn’t afraid.
Picking up her brush, she studied her reflection as she smoothed her hair. She didn’t look nervous, Hester decided. That was another point in her favor. The black wool dress was flattering with its deep cowl neck and nipped-in waist. The red slash of belt accented the line before the skirt flared out. For some reason, red gave her confidence. She considered the bold color another kind of defense for a far-from-bold person.
She fixed oversized scarlet swirls at her ears. Like most of her wardrobe, the dress was practical. It could go to the office, to a PTA meeting or a business lunch. Tonight, she thought with a half smile, it was going on a date.
Hester tried not to dwell on how long it had been since she’d been on a date, but comforted herself with the fact that she knew Mitch well enough to keep up an easy conversation through an evening. An adult evening. As much as she adored Radley, she couldn’t help but look forward to it.
When she heard the knock, she gave herself a last quick check, then went to answer. The moment she opened the door, her confidence vanished.
He didn’t look like Mitch. Gone were the scruffy jeans and baggy sweatshirts. This man wore a dark suit with a pale blue shirt. And a tie. The top button of the shirt was open, and the tie of dark blue silk was knotted loose and low, but it was still a tie. He was clean-shaven, and though some might have thought he still needed a trim, his hair waved dark and glossy over his ears and the collar of his shirt.
Hester was suddenly and painfully shy.
She looked terrific. Mitch felt a moment’s awkwardness himself as he looked at her. Her evening shoes put her to within an inch of his height so that they were eye to eye. It was the wariness in hers that had him relaxing with a smile.
“Looks like I picked the right color.” He offered her an armful of red roses.
She knew it was foolish for a woman of her age to be flustered by something as simple as flowers. But her heart rushed up to her throat as she gathered them to her.
“Did you forget your line again?” he murmured.
“My line?”
“Thank you.”
The scent of the roses flowed around her, soft and sweet. “Thank you.”
He touched one of the petals. He already knew her skin felt much the same. “Now you’re supposed to put them in water.”
Feeling a great deal more than foolish, Hester stepped back. “Of course. Come in.”
“The apartment feels different without Rad,” he commented when Hester went to get a vase.
“I know. Whenever he goes to a sleepover, it takes me hours to get used to the quiet.” He’d followed her into the kitchen. Hester busied herself with arranging the roses. I am a grown woman, she reminded herself, and just because I haven’t been on a date since high school doesn’t mean I don’t remember how.
“What do you usually do when you have a free evening?”
“Oh, I read, watch a late movie.” She turned with the vase and nearly collided with him. Water sloshed dangerously close to the top of the vase.
“The eye’s barely noticeable now.” He lifted a fingertip to where the bruise had faded to a shadow.
“It wasn’t such a calamity.” Her throat had tightened. Grown woman or not, she found herself enormously glad that the vase of roses was between them. “I’ll get my coat.”
After carrying the roses to the table beside the sofa, Hester went to the closet. She slipped one arm into the sleeve before Mitch came up behind her to help her finish. He made such an ordinary task sensual, she thought as she stared straight ahead. He brushed his hands over her shoulders, lingered, then trailed them down her arms before bringing them up again to gently release her hair from the coat collar.
Hester’s hands were balled into fists as she turned her head. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” With his hands on her shoulders, Mitch turned her to face him. “Maybe you’ll feel better if we get this out of the way now.” He kept his hands where they were and touched his lips, firm and warm, to hers. Hester’s rigid hands went lax. There was nothing demanding or passionate in the kiss. It moved her unbearably with its understanding.
“Feel better?” Mitch murmured.
“I’m not sure.”
With a laugh, he touched his lips to hers again. “Well, I do.” Linking his hand with hers, he walked to the door.
***
The restaurant was French, subdued and very exclusive. The pale flowered walls glowed in the quiet light and the flicker of candles. Diners murmured their private conversations over linen cloths and crystal stemware. The hustle and bustle of the streets were shut out by beveled glass doors.
“Ah, Monsieur Dempsey, we haven’t seen you in some time.” The maître d’ stepped forward to greet him.
“You know I always come back for your snails.”
With a laugh, the maître d’ waved a waiter aside.
“Good evening, mademoiselle. I’ll take you to your table.”
The little booth was candlelit and secluded, a place for hand-holding and intimate secrets. Hester’s leg brushed Mitch’s as they settled.
“The sommelier will be right with you. Enjoy your evening.”
“No need to ask if you’ve been here before.”
“From time to time I get tired of frozen pizza. Would you like champagne?”
“I’d love it.”
He ordered a bottle, pleasing the wine steward with the vintage. Hester opened her menu and sighed over the elegant foods. “I’m going to remember this the next time I’m biting into half a tuna sandwich between appointments.”
“You like your job?”
“Very much.” She wondered if soufflé de crabe was what it sounded like. “Rosen can be a pain, but he does push you to be efficient.”
“And you like being efficient.”
“It’s important to me.”
“What else is, other than Rad?”
“Security.” She looked over at him with a half smile. “I suppose that has to do with Rad. The truth is, anything that’s been important to me over the last few years has to do with Rad.”
She glanced up as the steward brought the wine and began his routine for Mitch’s approval. Hester watched the wine rise in her fluted glass, pale gold and frothy. “To Rad, then,” Mitch said as he lifted his glass to touch hers. “And his fascinating mo
ther.”
Hester sipped, a bit stunned that anything could taste so good. She’d had champagne before, but like everything that had to do with Mitch, it hadn’t been quite like this. “I’ve never considered myself fascinating.”
“A beautiful woman raising a boy on her own in one of the toughest cities in the world fascinates me.” He sipped and grinned. “Added to that, you do have terrific legs, Hester.”
