by Marilyn Lee
“No!” RP cried. “Don’t go, Annie!”
Ria’s response was slower, more grudging. “No... I guess.”
She suppressed a smile. Ria was obviously no pushover. “Hey now! It won’t be all work. We’ll have some fun too. After we do a little cleaning, we’ll go out back and have a lazy afternoon. Then you’ll tell me what you think your daddy would like for dinner and we’ll fix it. Okay?”
“Okay!” RP grinned, revealing a missing bottom tooth.
Annalise turned her gaze on Ria, who looked less than thrilled. “What do you say, Ria?” She held up her hands. “I can’t do it without you. I really need your help here. Can I count on you or should I get ready to leave as soon as your Auntie Deb comes back?”
She watched Ria study RP’s smiling face before shrugging. “Oh, all right. I guess.”
RP looked anxious. “I hope you’ll like us, Annie.”
She smiled at him. “I do like you, RP,” she said quickly.
“Both of us?”
She nodded firmly. “Both of you.”
He grinned. “Good. Then it’s all right.”
Chapter Two
Reed Phillips stood in the middle of the living room, looking around in surprise. The house had been looking as if a cyclone had touched down for the last two weeks. Now it looked presentable. He heard the muted sound of oldies coming from the kitchen. A mouth–watering aroma of roasting chicken filled the air.
Obviously, both he and Deb had misjudged her capabilities. Maybe their blowup the previous night had been a blessing. It appeared that when Deb put her mind to it, she could be as handy around a house as she was in a cutting room.
He tossed his briefcase and suit jacket onto one of two dark green, overstuffed sofas. Then he headed down the hall toward the kitchen, the music, and what smelled like a meal they might actually be able to eat.
Outside the kitchen door, he paused. There was no getting around it. He had been way out of line the night before. What brother in his right mind could expect a sister to postpone her wedding to accommodate his needs? Ria and RP were his responsibility. Not Deb’s. She’d already done more than he’d ever dare hoped.
He glanced down at the roses he carried. Maybe they would suffice as a peace offering. About to push open the door, he stiffened as the opening strains of one of Maria’s favorite songs began.
He pushed the door open and walked into the kitchen. “Deb, I’m sorry about—”
A strange woman stood in the middle of the kitchen floor. She held a wooden spoon up to her mouth like a microphone as she belted out Down The Aisle in a low, sultry voice that sent chills through him. She definitely was not Deb, nor was she shy. Anyone else would have halted in mid–verse, looking embarrassed or surprised. Looking directly into his eyes, she calmly continued to sing of years of living in bliss with the man by whose hand she promised to be lead before putting down the spoon.
“Oh. Hello.”
She wasn’t pretty in the conventional way. But the ponytail hanging nearly to her shoulders seemed to hold mounds of thick, glossy dark hair. Her eyes were dark brown; her smooth clear skin the color of warm, rich coco. The oversized tee shirt and baggy jeans she wore didn’t hide her rather generous curves. Without makeup, she looked about twenty. And totally captivating.
A warm, infectious smile curved her full lips upward.
He felt his own lips curving into an answering smile. “Hello.”
“I didn’t hear you come in.” Her voice was warm and light.
He glanced at the counter where a portable Mp3 player with mini speakers boomed away. “Can’t say I’m surprised you didn’t.”
Grinning, she reached over and turned off the music. “I like my music golden and a little on the loud side.”
He pretended to rub his ear. “Ah, yeah. I kind of figured that out.”
“Down The Aisle is one of my favorite’s songs.”
“What do you like about it?”
She shrugged. “I know it’s old–fashioned these days, but it’s so romantic. I like the idea of giving my hand to the man I fall in love with and having him hold and cherish me. Who wouldn’t like the idea of years of bliss?”
Who indeed?
Her smile widened. “So. With all that wavy blond hair, those to die for blue eyes, and that gorgeous mug, you must be RP Senior.” She came around the counter and offered him a hand. “I’m Annalise Lewis.”
Trying not to look as surprised as he felt by her frank assessment of him, he took her hand in his. He knew women generally found him attractive, but they weren’t often so forthright about it.
“You’re Deb’s friend? The artist?”
She nodded. “Guilty.”
That explained the swollen hand. Deb had mentioned something about some type of repetitive motion injury that had required surgery.
He glanced around the kitchen, amazed that he could see the bottom of the sink. The floor shone. “This is your doing? You’re a miracle worker,” he said.
She curtsied. “Glad you noticed.”
He glanced past her through the open kitchen door, surprised that Ria and RP hadn’t lurched themselves at him by now. If they were out back, they weren’t in his direct line of vision. “Where are Deb and the kids?”
“We needed bread and a few other things for dinner; which won’t be ready for another twenty minutes, by the way. Deb took them with her to the market.” She glanced at the roses in his hand. “Are they for Deb?”
He nodded. “They’re sort of a peace offering.”
She nodded and he realized that she probably knew about the argument. And she probably thought he was a first class jerk. He laid the roses on the counter. “Well, I guess I’ll go shower and change.”
Annalise waited until the kitchen door had closed behind him and she heard his footsteps in the hall moving towards the stairs before she sank down at the kitchen table. “Wow!” she said softly, blowing out a long, deep breath.
With that cleft chin and dimpled smile, Reed Phillips could have graced the cover of numerous romance novels, setting female hearts fluttering nationwide.
Her heart was doing more than fluttering. It was beating like crazy. And for what? It was a waste of her time to sit there fantasizing about him. He had a woman in his life. Not that she was sure she’d have stood a chance with him even if he didn’t. With his looks and killer smile, he must have to beat the women back.
Glancing out the back door, she looked toward the sky. It’s a good thing I’m not staying past the weekend, Lord. Otherwise, I’d probably make a first class fool of myself and embarrass us both. He’s not my Mister Right so help me keep it together, Lord.
When he came back into the kitchen fifteen minutes later, he wore jeans and a pullover.
She made a determined effort not to stare at him.
“I can’t thank you enough for giving up your day to cook and clean like this,” he said, straddling one of the kitchen chairs.
She put the pitcher of lemonade she’d just made into the refrigerator before turning to face him. “Actually, if it’s all right with you, I thought I’d stay until Monday and help out.”
She hurried on when one of his brows arched above the other. “Deb was looking a little green around the gills when I arrived in answer to her SOS. I think she needs a break.”
He ran a hand through his hair. “I know. She’s been a real trooper, but she’s just not up to coping with the kids. I need to make other arrangements. I just don’t know what they’re going to be.”
She found herself wishing she could do something to wipe that worried look off his face. But you can’t, she reminded herself. After this weekend, he’ll have to find a way to manage. Don’t go trying to change the world. Don’t you have troubles enough of your own without trying to add his to the mix? He’s a big boy. He’ll manage without your help.
She smiled at him. “I’m sure you’ll think of something.”
“I wish I shared your confidence. Ria and RP went
through six housekeepers in as many months before I found Miss Holland. Now that she’s going to be out of commission until December at the earliest, I have to start all over again.”
She moved away from the refrigerator and sat in the seat farthest away from him. “Don’t worry. They seem like great kids. Things are bound to work out.”
He stared at her for such a long time, that she put a hand up to her face. “What? Is there something on my face? What?”
He shook his head. “No. You just sound so confident, I feel better already.”
He flashed her a quick, dimpled smile and she sucked in her breath. The man was drop dead gorgeous.
It took an effort, but she managed a casual smile of her own. “They don’t call me the soother of furrowed brows for nothing,” she teased.
“I’m sure they don’t, Annalise.”
There was nothing intimate or provocative in his smile or voice. Nothing to suggest he had any interest in her whatsoever. So why did her name sound so...sweet and romantic rolling off his tongue?
She gave herself a mental shake. Get a grip, girl, or it’s going to be a long, long weekend.
He glanced at her hands resting on the table. She barely resisted the urge to stick them in her pockets or push them under the table; anything to get those blue eyes of his off her big, swollen hands.
“Deb mentioned you’d had an operation.”
She nodded. “Two actually. Carpal tunnel release on both hands. Two months ago.”
“How are you feeling?”
He sounded as if he genuinely wanted to know. “Fine.” She rubbed her hands slowly together. “They’re a little stiff and, as you can see, swollen, but my doctor tells me that’s to be expected.”
“And the prognosis? I mean, if you don’t mind my asking.”
Mind? She liked that he asked. “Pretty good. I’m a graphic artist, so I use my hands in my work. The doctor wants me to spend the next couple of months just concentrating on getting the strength and flexibility back. He thinks that if I only use my hands moderately for the next two months, I’ll be able to go back to work full stream by November.”
He grimaced. “So the last thing you should have been doing here was cleaning.”
“Actually, I had a lot of help.”
His brow rose again. “You’re not going to tell me that Deb helped and expect me to believe it, are you?”
She laughed. “That would be stretching credulity quite a bit, wouldn’t it? I meant Ria and RP. They helped with the dishes and the floor.”
“That’s almost as hard to believe. RP’s game enough, but Ria doesn’t clean,” he intoned in a solemn voice.
She laughed, trying not to blink at the brightness of his smile. “So she told me, but we managed a compromise.”
“I’m impressed.”
Her heart thumped. “You are?”
“Definitely. Ria can be...” He shrugged. “somewhat difficult until you get to know her.”
“Really? I thought we got along fairly well.”
He leaned forward, an earnest look in his eyes. “That’s impressive too. Ria has been known to...shall we say, leave the faint at heart in tears...at least with people she doesn’t like.”
“Then I’ll assume she likes me.”
He nodded. “I think that’s a safe assumption. I really don’t know how to thank you.”
She spoke without thinking. “That’s easy. You can take me out for a romantic dinner some starlit evening.”
He looked so surprised she instantly regretted the impulsive words. When would she learn to bridle her tongue?
“Take you out to a romantic dinner? Ah, that sounds very...actually, I have...there’s someone I’m...I already have...”
“A woman in your life? Yes, I know,” she said, surprised at how cool and natural she sounded. She widened her eyes and stared at him, praying that he couldn’t tell her dismay wasn’t genuine. “Hey, now. Wait a minute. You...you don’t mean...you mean you thought I was asking you out on a date?”
He actually blushed. “I...you did say take you out to a romantic dinner and...well, no! Yes….” he trailed off and shook his head. “I guess I’m looking like a vain airhead who thinks every woman I meet is interested in me.”
They probably were. But imagine meeting a man who was sensitive enough to still blush at...what was he? Thirty–seven or eight? This Reed Phillips had hidden depths she unfortunately would never have an opportunity to explore.
Before she could answer, the screen door banged shut. Moments later, screams of, “Daddy! Daddy!” echoed down the hall.
Soon, Ria and RP burst into the room and threw themselves at their father, who went down to his knees and enclosed them both in his arms.
The meal that followed at the kitchen table reminded Annalise of the meals she’d enjoyed at her brother’s house. Charlie, his wife Irene, and their two kids had spent two months pampering her following the operations.
Charlie, a minister at a large Philadelphia church, believed that family meals were times for each family member to unwind and speak freely about any and everything.
It seemed that Reed felt the same way because he made no effort to silence Ria or RP, even when Ria began talking about Taylor. Annalise soon found herself wishing that he wasn’t so tolerant.
“We told Annie all about Taylor, Daddy,” Ria said.
She stared at the child, horrified. Now he was bound to think that she’d encouraged the child to talk about his private life!
“Hey now, Ria! That’s not exactly true,” she said quickly, very conscious of the speculative look on Reed’s face as he turned to look at her. “You told me she was pretty and that’s all.”
“Well, what else did you want to know about Daddy’s girlfriend?” Ria asked, sounding aggrieved.
Annalise responded in a muted roar, “Nothing!”
Ria’s blue eyes widened. “Then why are you complaining that we didn’t tell you anything else?”
“What? Hey! I wasn’t complaining! What I meant was—”
She heard the beginnings of laughter quickly turned into coughs. She looked across the table to see both Deb and Reed surreptitiously smiling. An eight–year–old had outfoxed her. Her own lips twitched. Within minutes, everyone at the table was laughing openly, except Ria, who wanted to know what was so funny.
After dinner, she ushered everyone out onto the back porch while she stacked the dishes in the sink and wiped down the table.
She could hear Reed’s deep voice and Ria’s frequent giggling and RP’s childish laughter. She reached over and turned on her Mp3 player. She adjusted the volume until she couldn’t hear the voices coming from the porch anymore.
Then she dived into the dishes, singing as she washed. She was in the middle of singing Cara Mia with Jay and the Americans when she felt a tingling sensation along the back of her neck. She turned to find Reed standing in the doorway, watching her with an amused look on his handsome face.
Ignoring him, she turned back to the sink and went on singing until the song ended. Only then did she turn off the radio and speak. “Forget something, RP Senior?”
He joined her at the sink. “I’m not RP Senior,” he said and picked up a dishtowel. “And I came to help.”
She was very conscious of him standing next to her. All the same, she wasn’t about to let it show. She handed him a dish. “Isn’t RP named after you?”
“Yes, but my friends call me Reed. Not RP.”
She cast a sidelong glance at him and found him looking down at her. “I’ll keep that in mind...if we ever become friends.”
He paused in the act of drying the dish and frowned. “If? Is there some reason that I don’t know about why we can’t be friends?”
Aside from the fact that she’d never meant a man she wanted to be friends with less? “None at all,” she said and handed him another dish. “Less talk and more work will get the job done that much quicker.”
“Ah, right. Just what I was thinking. Right.
” He dried the dish and waited until she handed him another.
“You know this really won’t do,” she told him.
She could almost feel him tense beside her. “What? Our washing dishes together? Or our being friends?”
“No need to panic,” she said, smiling up at him through lowered lashes. “I was talking about doing the dishes this way. You know, RP Senior, you’re really going to have to get in step with the rest of the world and get a dishwasher.”
“Oh. That. Maria and I used to enjoy doing them together. I keep thinking I’ll start doing them with Ria and RP, but,” he shrugged. “Somehow we never do.” He grinned. “Besides, Ria doesn’t do dishes.”
She smiled. “So I’ve heard. But what did you think I meant when I said this wouldn’t do?” She grinned up at him suddenly. “Oh, I see. You were afraid that I was about to proposition you.”
“No I wasn’t!” he denied, but she saw the hint of color staining his cheeks and knew that’s exactly what he’d feared.
She handed him the last dish and turned to face him. “Then why don’t I believe you, RP Senior?”
She watched him shrug, thinking how she’d like to lean her head against his broad shoulders. “How should I know why you choose not to believe the truth, Annalise?”
She put her head on one side and openly studied him. He leaned back against the sink and stared silently back at her.
“I guess you get a lot of women expressing interest in you now that you’re a widower.”
He put down the dishtowel and looked away. “I...well, no. Of course not.”
She laughed. “I find that hard to believe. You really are breathtaking, you know.”
He turned to look at her, but remained silent.
“You must know that women find you attractive. I’m sure many of them weren’t shy about letting you know it.”
“I’m not interested in what women in general do or don’t find attractive, Annalise,” he said firmly. “I’m a one woman man.”
“And that one woman would be your Taylor?”
“Yes.”
Lucky, lucky Taylor. “Well, don’t worry. I promise not to chase you, even though you’re very chase–able.”
