by Holly Jacobs
She nodded, so he continued, "I think Chloe's still in with Brandon. Do you mind if I get her?"
"Sure."
He led the way up the stairs to Brandon's room. The door was ajar. He peeked inside and Chloe was curled at the end of the bed, her head resting on Brandon's legs. Her tail made a tired wag as she spotted him, but she didn't even lift her head.
Daniel wasn't sure how to get her out without waking Brandon. Soon, he didn't worry about it, as he studied the boy's face all in shadows from the weak light from the hall. And he wondered if Tara had done this—stood in the hall, looking in on Brandon as he slept. Had she gone in and covered him when he was little and kicked off his covers? Had she kept a night-light on for him?
"I do it, too," Michelle said softly from behind him.
"What?" he whispered back.
"Watch him sleep. When he first came here, I'd check in many times every night because he'd been so broken up about Tara's passing and he didn't know me well enough to come to me then for comfort. He'd soldier through the day. But at night, he'd cry in his room. This little bit of a boy who'd lost everything he'd ever known, crying by himself. It broke me, Daniel."
He wanted to reach out and put his arm around her, pull her to him, but he knew she wouldn't welcome the gesture, so he simply kept his distance. "You helped him through it."
"It wasn't easy. I had a lot to learn, and he was so confused. The first year was hard." She stopped. "Sorry, you needed to get going."
He wasn't sorry. He wished she'd kept talking, kept sharing. But he didn't push. He nodded to the dog. "I'm afraid I'm going to wake Brandon up if I go in and get her."
"She can spend the night," Michelle offered. "I can drop her off at your place in the morning after I drop Brandon off at school."
Her offer surprised him, but maybe it shouldn't. Michelle had proved to be very considerate and generous. "Are you sure?"
"Brandon will be thrilled to wake up and find her here, as long as you don't mind."
"I don't. Thanks."
They went back down the stairs, and he half expected Chloe to come down on her own, but she evidently was content with Brandon.
"I'll see you in the morning then." Again, he was consumed by the need to pull her into his arms and kiss her good-night. But Michelle's body language was as good as if she were screaming no. One arm was folded across her chest, and she stood partially behind the door, gripping the handle with her other hand, as if she needed to be able to close the door on him and escape at a moment's notice.
"Yes, I'll see you in the morning," she repeated. "Thanks for tonight."
He left and heard Michelle shut the door, and he glanced behind him.
Since he'd bought his cottage in Greene Township, he'd always looked forward to going home at night. But tonight, going home didn't provide him the normal rush of satisfaction because he recognized that the cottage was merely a house. Michelle's was a home—one he wished he didn't have to leave.
Chapter Eight
Saturday morning, Daniel offered to pick Michelle and Brandon up on his way into town so they could go to the dollar store before skating.
Michelle had successfully avoided being alone with him on Thursday and Friday, but she hadn't been able to think of a way to gracefully say no to his suggestion—at least not one that Brandon would buy. Which was why she was sitting in the front seat of his truck Saturday morning, while Brandon sat in the back, wearing headphones.
"You're awfully quiet," Daniel said as they drove across East Thirty-Eighth to the dollar store.
"Sometimes quiet is good." She'd been afraid he'd want to talk. She'd hoped Brandon's presence would delay the discussion, but thanks to technology, Brandon was present but not listening.
"And sometimes too quiet means there's a problem." Daniel glanced her way. "And it seems to me our problems began Wednesday night when we—"
She cut him off in case Brandon could hear over the iPod buds in his ears. "We had a lovely time yesterday, I thought. I hadn't noticed any problems, other than I can't punch a tin lid as well as you can.'"
He cocked his head and just gave her a look, before turning his attention to the road. "I noticed you had Brandon tell me that you canceled our shopping trip when he dropped off Chloe on Thursday morning. And instead of the three of us shopping, we made more crafts with Samantha and Carly. They both even went so far as to invite us all out to dinner. Thursday night, Samantha, then Friday night, Carly. We haven't been alone once since Magellan's Place on Wednesday."
She tried to look confused on the off chance that he glanced her way again. He didn't. He kept his eyes on the road, and both hands on the steering wheel. "They're good friends and wanted to help. That's why I put off the shopping until this morning. It made sense since we were going skating anyway. No other reason. Certainly not because of a problem. And we haven't been alone because. . ." She paused a moment, thinking. The truth was they hadn't been alone because she'd done a good job of making sure they weren't. Although she wasn't going to tell him the truth. Instead, she finished, ". . .because things have been busy, in case you hadn't noticed."
"Uh-huh." It was only two syllables of agreement, but he managed to infuse them with a sarcastic lilt that made them more of a negative than a positive.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I think it means something about Wednesday made you nervous. I don't think it was our discussion, or even watching Magellan's Place together." He paused. "Gee, what could it be that would make you nervous enough to cancel our solo shopping trip and call in crafting reinforcements?"
She checked on Brandon, who still seemed absorbed in whatever was playing on his iPod. "I suggest this conversation is best left to another, more private time."
"I just thought that if I told you that if you-know-what-we're-talking-about is what's making you nervous, I'll simply promise to see that it doesn't happen again."
She was about to say yes, that would be good, when he added, "Can you make the same promise?"
"What do you mean, can I? Of course I can. It's not like you're that irresistible." That was a lie and she knew it. The idea of kissing him was tempting, even now, as he teased her.
"I don't know. You seemed to have trouble resisting Wednesday." He shot her a rather amused smile.
Michelle was not finding the conversation amusing in the least. "I'll figure something out," she promised him.
His amusement was even more evident. "I'm sure you will."
"Hey, what did I miss?" Brandon asked from the back as he took the earbuds out.
"Nothing worth mentioning," Michelle said stiffly.
They made short work of the dollar store and left with three giant bags stuffed with coloring books, crayons, hair paraphernalia and other small items that the children who shopped at the Christmas Fair could give to their families as gifts, then hurried to the skating rink on West Thirty-Eighth Street.
Michelle rented her skates and arrived at the bleachers to find Brandon was already out on the ice. Daniel was waiting for her. "Want help lacing your skates? I've heard that in the day, it was not only considered chivalrous, but also allowed a gentleman the opportunity to catch a glimpse of the lady's ankle. Very risqué at the time."
"Well, these days, women are self-sufficient and lace their own skates," she informed him as primly as possible. "Rumor has it most gentlemen don't find ankles all that risqué anymore."
Then, as she laced and tightened her boot, Daniel's thigh brushed against hers. There was a sudden race of her heart reminding her all over again and she pulled back.
"Do I really make you that uncomfortable?" Daniel asked softly.
"No, you don't make me uncomfortable. My actions on Wednesday night make me uncomfortable. We've only known each other a week and a half. And even without stopping to consider the situation. . .even without that, I don't normally go around kissing men I've only known a week and a half."
"I don't think there's anything normal about our entire
situation. I've spent more time with you in the past week than I've spent with women I've dated for months. Maybe that's why I don't feel weirded out by the scant amount of time we've known each other."
He was right. She'd dated men much longer, and hadn't managed to rack up as many hours in their company as she had with Daniel.
Even Samantha and Carly. She'd known them in a peripheral way before their committee was formed in September. But over the last three months they'd gone from acquaintances to true friends. The three of them had just clicked. Time hadn't been an issue.
She didn't have an argument for him. She simply said, "Well, I do feel uncomfortable, and I'd like to keep our distance."
"So you called in your cavalry to act as buffers."
"I was thinking chaperones, but buffer is also an apt description."
"Because you're afraid you can't keep your hands off me." He shook his head in mock disapproval. "Really, Michelle, you need to learn self-restraint."
"I am the queen of self-restraint. I guarantee that I can keep my hands off you."
"So prove it. Spend the rest of the day with Brandon and me and don't kiss me. I promise I won't kiss you."
"As if I'd let you." With her skates dutifully laced, she got up and headed for the rink, Daniel at her heels. "It's not going to happen, Daniel."
"If you say so."
Brandon skated up to them. "Want to see what I learned, Aunt Shell?"
"Sure." He'd been coming almost weekly to the rink with friends. She hoped that today's excursion wasn't going to start another round of hockey-league pleas.
Michelle was a step-above-the-basics skater. She could do laps around the rink, but things like going backward, or even stopping, could throw her for a loop.
Brandon, on the other hand, was going full throttle, passing her more than once, switching from skating forward to skating backward, stopping on a dime, then speeding right back up.
"He's good," Daniel said.
"Yes," she agreed. Most of the time Brandon excelling at anything left her feeling nothing but pride. However, a contact sport left her feeling only trepidation. She didn't want him playing hockey, but watching him on the ice, she could see he was in his element here, and he'd probably be a natural at the sport, which left her feeling guilty for saying no.
Since when was loving someone enough to want to keep them safe a crime?
But that's how it felt. As if, in this instance, she wasn't thinking so much of keeping Brandon safe, as she was thinking about keeping herself from worrying.
She thought about it as they skated. Brandon met up with a group of friends, and Daniel and Michelle ended up at the refreshment stand ordering hot chocolates.
"So, dinner tonight?" Daniel asked as they snagged a table. "I have a roast in the Crock-Pot, unless you're afraid to be alone with me. If that's the case, we could go to a very public restaurant and get something there."
"I'm glad you're finding this amusing."
"I'm not. . .not really. Though we seem to be going in circles, so let's call a truce. Come on over and have dinner with me tonight."
"Okay." There was no hope for it. She was going to prove to Daniel—and maybe to herself—that this attraction wasn't a big deal.
She could handle it.
DANIEL COULDN'T REMEMBER when he'd had so much fun. Michelle had sat out awhile, leaving him some private time with Brandon on the ice. The kid was good. Very good.
When they'd finished, they'd all headed back to his place. He'd let Michelle and Brandon in, then walked out to the street to get the mail, hoping against all hope that the paternity test results had been returned. Doing so had become part of his daily ritual.
He was still thumbing through his mail when he entered the kitchen and found Michelle sitting alone at the counter. "Bran took Chloe outside?"
"They're in the back. Should I call them in?"
"No, give me a minute to get things ready. I'm sure he's having fun with Chloe, and she loves having someone whose energy level is as unflagging as her own."
Daniel hurriedly finished going through the mail, disappointed but not surprised that the results weren't there.
"Nothing yet?" she asked softly.
He looked up from the pile of mail.
"You were checking for the results, right?" she asked.
"Yes. Nothing again today."
"I started looking the day after you two had the tests done, even though I knew that there was no way the results would arrive that soon. Every day I go to the mailbox and get this sick feeling in the pit of my stomach."
"You're sick at the thought that I'm Brandon's father?"
"No," she said. "At first I was, but now? I'm sick at the thought that you're not his father."
He whirled her around and, despite his good intentions, he kissed her. He'd forgotten all about his promise. Even if he'd remembered, he'd probably have still done it. "Thanks for that."
"I thought we agreed you wouldn't kiss me?" she asked, sounding flustered, as she moved away and smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her sweater.
"That was a peck on the cheek, not a real kiss. It was a thanks for hoping that I'm Brandon's dad. That matters to me."
"We still haven't worked out what it will mean. We've spent the past week and a half living in each other's back pocket, but that can't go on. Tax season will be starting, which means long days for me. I'll be back to working until five. We won't be spending every day together like this, although I know you'll still want to be with Brandon."
"Not just Brandon," Daniel admitted. It was true. He saw Brandon and Michelle as a package. A family. He didn't want to just be Brandon's father, he wanted to be part of their family. He didn't know how to word it. "Your allowing me to spend time with Brandon has been a gift. No matter what, I don't want to lose him from my life. But I don't want to lose you, either."
"Daniel—"
She didn't finish her sentence, because Brandon and Chloe charged in the back door. "Time to eat yet? I'm starving."
Michelle seemed relieved to see him. "He's grown inches since the end of last year. But I still don't know where he puts all the food he manages to eat."
"Hollow foot," Brandon teased. "It all sinks right down to my hollow foot. And right now, me and the foot are starving."
"Well, we don't want that." Daniel started pulling the roast from the Crock-Pot and tried not to let his disappointment show. He'd wanted Michelle to finish her statement. He wanted things worked out. But it was probably best that Brandon had come in, because he suspected Michelle would simply pull back further if he kept pushing. Even that small peck on the cheek had startled her. Reining in his emotions was hard. He hadn't exactly sorted them out, but he did know that he wanted both Michelle and Brandon in his life.
Michelle and Brandon had set the table by the time he brought the roast and side dishes over.
"We make quite a team," he told them both.
They sat down and Brandon burst out, "Oh, Aunt Shell, Sean wanted to know if I could come over tomorrow. . . ."
Daniel listened to Brandon's excited talk about going to his friend's. A feeling of familiar swept over him. A delightful feeling. These meals, shared with Brandon and Michelle, were starting to be the highlight of Daniel's day.
They cleared the table after they finished and Daniel started washing the dishes, while Michelle packaged up the leftovers.
Brandon dried and set the dishes on the counter. "Hey, Dan, how's that desk thing coming that you were working on?"
"Do you want to go out and see when we're done?"
Brandon looked to his aunt for permission.
Michelle nodded and walked over and took the towel from him. "Why don't you two go do that? I'll finish drying the dishes."
"Why don't you just let the dishes drip and come out with us?" Daniel asked.
"Aunt Shell doesn't do drip-dry dishes." Brandon laughed and dodged as Michelle swatted him with the towel.
Daniel loved seeing the connection
between the two of them. They were a unit. He could understand Michelle's initial concerns. She didn't want anyone hurting what the two of them had built. He got that.
He hoped she was beginning to see that he didn't want to destroy their relationship. He wanted to be a part of it. He wanted to be able to tease her the way Brandon did. He wanted Brandon to give him those looks that asked for permission, or asked his opinion.
He wanted to be part of their family.
It had been a long time since he belonged somewhere. The thought came unbidden, and made Daniel feel like an interloper.
"You two go have some man-bonding time," Michelle insisted.
They hadn't even reached the workshop when Brandon said, "So did you see me skating this afternoon?"
There was an intensity in the question that warned Daniel that this trip to the shed was about something more than seeing his progress on the secretary. "Yes, you were great."
"I know." He grinned. "It's a curse." Brandon turned serious. "But now you see why I want to try out for the hockey team. I'm kind of old, and I know it, but I'm a good skater, and I understand the game, so I think I could make it. I just need Aunt Shell to see it."
"Maybe she'll change her mind."
Brandon shook his head. "Aunt Shell is great, but when she comes to a decision, there's not much that will shake her. Although maybe if you talk to her, she might."
Daniel could see the potential minefield this could easily become. "Brandon, I don't think I should interfere."
"My mom always talked about following her dreams. That dreams were important, 'cause without them what was the point? Well, this is my dream, Dan. I can't just ignore Aunt Shell and go after it myself. I'm too young. And by the time I'm old enough to do what I want, I'll be too old. But you could talk to her. You could make her see that this is my dream, that she should let me go after it. I might not make it, but I'll never know if I don't at least try."
"Bran—"
"Please?"
There was such hope in Brandon's eyes. A sense of surety that if Daniel talked to Michelle, he could get her to change her mind. He could help Brandon go after his dream.
He'd seen the boy on the ice today, and he was a natural. Daniel was a competent skater at best. Michelle was even more hesitant on the ice than he was. But Brandon? He owned the ice, skating with grace.
