by Abby Gaines
Jane nodded. “So that kiss...”
“Was intended to make him realize I’m a desirable, grown-up woman, not just a coffee buddy.”
“You don’t think making out with his son might have reminded him you’re a generation younger?”
Micki groaned. “I know, I know. It’s just, for a minute there, before you all arrived, I felt like he was seeing me in a different light, and I wanted to push that. And Kyle owed me a kiss from high school.” She told Jane how she’d been target practice for Kyle’s kissing skills back in high school.
“Impressive debt collecting,” Jane said. “Remind me never to borrow a buck from you.”
Micki snorted. “Thanks.”
“I’m surprised Kyle agreed to do it,” Jane said. “It seems a bit out there for him.”
“Kyle’s very responsible,” Micki said. “He pays his debts.” She snickered, then grew serious again. “But like you said, Charles probably just thinks I’m a slut. A young slut.”
“That’s not what I said.” But Jane’s face betrayed that was near enough to what she’d meant. “Have you tried dating anyone your own age lately? For real?”
“A couple of guys, once or twice. Didn’t work out.” Micki pressed her finger into some grains of sugar on the table and picked them up. “I haven’t met anyone recently that I find as attractive as Charles, so I haven’t bothered.”
“How likely is it that Charles returns your feelings?”
“I don’t suppose he’s ever considered me as a romantic prospect,” Micki said. “But if I could make him think about it, maybe he’d realize...” She broached the thought that had been germinating in her head over the past week. “It might be possible, if you helped me.”
* * *
JANE WAS STILL WRESTLING with the idea of Micki having a crush on Charles; the other woman’s bright, eager expression caught her by surprise. “Help you?”
“You just pointed out how my behavior on Friday night may have given Charles the wrong impression. That’s what your work’s all about, right? Coaching women to get the right message across?”
“Ye-es.” Jane took a cautious sip of coffee. “To employers and potential landlords and the like.”
Micki pressed both palms into the table and leaned forward. “You could coach me to present myself to Charles in the best possible light.”
“I don’t advise people on their love lives.”
“I can pay you.”
“Don’t be dumb. It’s not about money.” A part of her was flattered. Micki’s attitude couldn’t be more different than Kyle’s—he was only accepting her help because she’d blackmailed him into it, and she suspected he didn’t believe her advice would make any difference. But she wasn’t much more experienced with male-female relationships than she was with parenting. “I don’t want to let you down. Getting Charles Everson to date one of his son’s friends...that’s beyond anything I’ve done before.”
“You don’t think it’s possible.” Micki’s perky face sagged.
“Anything’s possible.” Truthfully, she doubted Charles would relax his iron discipline long enough to fall for Micki. Jane wanted to help—she’d taken an instant liking to the other woman, which didn’t often happen—but if she tried, and failed, how would that affect their budding friendship?
Before she could say more, the door opened and Charles himself came in.
“Hi, Charles,” Micki called in her usual friendly manner.
“Hey, Micki.” Charles’s glance didn’t quite meet hers, Jane noticed. “Hello, Jane.”
Wow, her very own greeting, complete with eye contact. Something was definitely off. Jane wasn’t about to be outdone in the courtesy stakes, not by him. “Thanks for dinner on Friday, Charles,” she said. “I had a lovely time.”
“You’re welcome.” Charles’s politeness turned dogged. He looked to Micki. “Breakfast?” he said hopefully.
“Coming right up.”
The same words Micki had uttered to Jane when she’d asked for her usual cappuccino. And every other customer Jane had heard her speak to. How could Charles know she was more to him than just a customer, so that he might start thinking about the possibilities?
Though his expression was jovial, it seemed to Jane he still wasn’t quite looking directly at Micki.
Jane waded in to test the waters. “I was just teasing Micki about her intimate encounter with Kyle the other night.”
Charles froze, the joviality fading, as if he’d surprised a burglar and found himself staring down the barrel of a gun. “Her what?”
“You mean, you didn’t notice her and Kyle locking lips in your kitchen?” Jane said innocently.
Cue a strangled sound from Micki.
“I, uh, of course I did.” Was it the light in here, or was Charles’s face a little red? “Are you and Kyle, uh, dating, Micki?”
Jane had never seen Police Chief Everson discomfited. She jumped in before Micki could answer. “It was a bet. You know how uptight Kyle is—he bugs the heck out of me.”
“No, I don’t know,” Charles said frostily.
“I bet Micki he wouldn’t kiss her back.” She shrugged. “I lost twenty bucks.” She was taking a risk that Charles wouldn’t repeat this to Kyle, but it had to be done.
“Only you would come up with something like that,” he said, annoyed.
Jane wondered if she detected a hint of relief in there, too.
Micki looked worried, as if she wanted to intervene to save Jane’s reputation. Which was way too far gone with Charles Everson for her to worry about.
“Sorry, Micki, I’m a bad influence,” Jane said. “Aren’t I, Charles?”
She might have overdone it; he darted her a suspicious look. “Breakfast, Micki?” he asked.
“Of course. You go sit down.”
He’s adorable, Micki mouthed, as Charles headed for his booth.
No accounting for taste, Jane mouthed back. Which, fortunately, was too hard to interpret.
Micki grabbed Jane’s arm. “This means you’re helping me, right?” she said in a low voice. “Because I have no idea where to go from where you just left me. I’m no longer a slut, which is great, but now I kiss for bets?”
“I guess you do need my help,” Jane said with an odd sense of exhilaration. “So, okay.”
“That’s all right, then.” Micki headed back to the counter. “I have complete faith in you.”
Trouble was, Jane couldn’t imagine Charles asking Micki on a date. But it was nice to have someone who knew her as one of those Slaters actually trusting her. In fact, Micki was the closest she’d had to a real friend, one who knew the bad as well as the good, since Lissa.
Micki’s lovely, she deserves every chance at this. Jane was certain a romance between her and Charles would never happen of its own accord, but if Jane could advise her...
Of course, a successful outcome would bring a suite of complications. If Charles asked Micki on a date, Kyle would— Jane’s mind boggled. She had no idea what he would do, but she knew he wouldn’t like it.
But that was his narrow-minded problem, not hers.
* * *
KYLE’S CELL PHONE alarm went off at ten to six on Tuesday. He hit the button to mute the buzzer, pushed the covers aside and got out of bed. He pulled on underwear, jeans and a T-shirt—he would shower later—and headed quietly downstairs.
He was pouring milk over a bowl of granola when Jane spoke from the doorway
. “Good morning,” she said.
Milk slopped over the side of his bowl. “Now look what you made me do.”
She crossed to the sink and tossed him a sponge. “Didn’t we agree yesterday you would stick around in the mornings?” Her coaching plan required him to spend time with Daisy mornings and evenings. Yesterday, he’d gone out early, planning to spend an hour at the new house. An hour had turned into two, and he’d ended up rushing home to change after she and Daisy had left for school.
“We didn’t exactly agree—what are you wearing?”
Jane glanced down. “These would be my pajamas.”
“With rubber duckies on them.” Bright yellow duckies swam on a pale blue cotton background, grinning madly. Who wouldn’t grin, atop those very feminine curves? The totally inappropriate thought hit Kyle’s mind front and center before he could censor it. “They’re very short,” he said, possibly trying to justify his lapse in judgment.
“They’re shortie pajamas. I didn’t bring a robe with me.” She tugged the bottom of the shorts, but failed to cover even another inch of bare, slim thigh. Kyle remembered how awkward she’d been Sunday night, when their fingers had gotten tangled. He’d thought nothing of it at the time, but later, in bed, he’d remembered her flustered state and been intrigued.
Then last night, she’d been coolly professional throughout their coaching session, leaving him wondering if he’d imagined her reaction.
“Stop changing the subject,” she said. “It’s not acceptable for you to be gone before Daisy wakes up in the morning—” he opened his mouth “—and don’t tell me you’ll be back in time to see her because you won’t.”
He closed his mouth again.
“Why don’t you hire someone to do the work on the house for you?” she asked. “Or with you? So you can have more time at home.”
He finished wiping the spilled milk and threw the sponge into the sink. “Pretty much every laborer in town is working on the ski-lift upgrade project over summer—it’s a total overhaul, with new restaurants going in, too. I get help when someone’s available, but that’s not often enough.”
The first button of her pj top was undone. He caught a glimpse of creamy skin—skin that hadn’t seen the sun much.
“You have my sympathy, but you still don’t get to leave here in the morning.”
“I’m up now,” he coaxed her. “What else am I going to do with the time?”
She planted her hands on her hips, bringing a couple of strategically placed duckies into prominence. “We’ll do the next lesson. Which is a bit harder than not checking your cell phone messages while you’re talking to Daisy.” One of last night’s homilies. “Today’s lesson is keep your promises.”
“Not a problem,” he said.
“You told Daisy last night you’d see her this morning.”
He had, too. Rats. “Point taken.”
“I just said, it’s not that easy,” she reminded him. “Yesterday morning, you told her you’d make her some raisin toast to have after her cereal.”
“Then the deputy mayor called, and by the time I got off the phone...” He could see that didn’t cut any ice with Jane, so he stopped. “Daisy’s old enough to make her own toast,” he suggested.
Her mouth curved. “Really? That’s the best you can do?”
He scowled. Which, perversely, made her smile more widely. He liked her smile—wide or cute, it was always pretty.
“I’ve discovered,” she said, “that Daisy takes little things like a willingness to make toast for her as a sign of love.”
His skepticism must have showed, because she said, “It’s true. I’ve had to encourage her to do more for herself, to make sure she doesn’t get attached to me. But you do want her to get attached. Not making her toast was a double whammy—you broke your promise and you didn’t perform that little act of love.”
“One little piece of uncooked toast is that big an issue, huh?”
“Occasionally promises have to be broken,” she said. “But it’s better not to make even casual offers if you can’t live up to them.”
He couldn’t help smiling at her earnest expression, so at odds with those ridiculous yellow ducks.
“What?” she said, suspicious.
“Thanks for being on Daisy’s side,” he said, surprising himself.
He’d obviously surprised her, too. Her hand went to her throat, then moved down to play with that top button. “It’s what I’m here for.”
The more he thought about it, the less he believed Jane would have carried through on her threat to leak the truth about Daisy’s conception.
She clearly had Daisy’s best interests at heart all of the time. She went out of her way to make sure Daisy didn’t get too attached...he wondered what that effort cost her. And she’d put a lot of thought into this coaching.
I could pull out, now that I know Jane’s no threat. And yet...Daisy had smiled at him last night, in response to one of those awkward smiles he was working on improving, and he’d felt like the effort was all worthwhile.
So he would hang in with Jane and her coaching.
Right now, with her legs on display and those oddly sensuous duckies beckoning his attention, that was no hardship at all.
* * *
OVER THE NEXT WEEK, Jane and Kyle worked out a compromise that allowed Kyle to continue working on the new house, but also gave him more time and responsibility for Daisy. Around five o’clock each evening, Jane took Daisy up to the house, arriving the same time as Kyle. Father and daughter hung out together in a low-pressure situation for a couple of hours, before Jane returned to take Daisy home for bed.
At seven on Wednesday night, Jane texted Kyle, as she usually did, to say she was waiting in the driveway of his new house, but Daisy didn’t come out. Nor was she in the front yard on the trampoline, which Jane had suggested Kyle buy, and where she loved to spend much of the time, bouncing or just lying on her tummy reading a book.
Jane sent another text, and waited a couple more minutes. No sign of Daisy, so she would have to go inside.
She hadn’t done that before.
While she’d been putting as much time as she deemed necessary into her coaching sessions with Kyle, and monitoring the results, Jane had also been keeping her distance when she didn’t have a reason to be near him.
It made sense to be careful, now that she’d noticed how attractive his smile was, and especially since said smile had been making more frequent appearances these past few days.
She climbed out of her car and headed up the walk. The house hugged the contour of the land, a mix of glass and concrete and wood, highly contemporary, yet somehow also a part of its environment.
The extra-tall cedar front door looked heavy, but was mounted on quality fittings that meant Jane had no trouble pushing it open.
“Hello?” she called.
No reply.
A double doorway to her left seemed to indicate a living room, so she walked that way. And stopped.
The room was magnificent, soaring ceilings above polished floorboards—recycled, going by the scars and flaws that lent character to their golden warmth. Floor-to-ceiling windows on the west side gave a view of the mountains that would be even more spectacular at sunset.
The place looked crafted, but natural. Sophisticated, but homey.
It was nothing like what she’d have envisaged Kyle building for himself. She’d pictured something far more conservative.
“Jane
?” Kyle said from behind.
Jane realized her mouth was still open. She closed it as she turned around. “This place is amazing, Kyle. Stunning.”
He smiled. “Thanks. It’s been way too long in the finishing.”
“It’s worth the wait,” she assured him. Their gazes caught, held. “Um, is Daisy ready?”
He hooked his thumbs in his jeans, his biceps flexing in his gray T-shirt. “I guess she’s in her room. Sorry, you probably texted—I don’t know where I left my cell.”
He was standing closer than she was comfortable with. Jane turned back to the view. “You’ll never get tired of looking out this window.”
“I hope not.” He moved so he was too close again. “Do you miss the mountains?”
“I can see the mountains from Denver.”
“Not up close.”
“Distance is good,” she said pointedly.
He obviously didn’t get it. “You really hate this town, huh?”
“I don’t hate it.” She didn’t like to expend that much negative energy on something that no longer mattered. “I just don’t want to be here.”
“So you have a grudge against it, like my dad said.”
“The town has a grudge against me.” She took a step away from him. “I managed to acquire a bad reputation without doing anything seriously wrong. That’s why I left Pinyon Ridge—figured I’d have more chance of getting a job where no one knew my family.”
Kyle remembered how well she’d done in school. “Did you consider college?”
She blinked, as if the question surprised her. “I didn’t have good enough grades for a full ride and there was no way I could pay fees myself. I didn’t want to get a loan I might not be able to repay.”
“Barb and Hal might have helped out. They’ve always been comfortably off.”
