In a Heartbeat

by Janice Kay Johnson

  Her heart threw in some extra beats even as she told herself that he was kidding.

  “Then tell the kids dinner is ready,” she said, sounding only a little breathless. While he did as she’d asked, it occurred to her that he must not be seeing a woman. Had he been flirting rather than teasing?

  Predictably, dinner-table conversation was dominated by a blow-by-blow account of the soccer game. Josh’s team had accomplished the miracle of not only beating the unbeaten team, but also trouncing them 3-1. Josh wished he could have scored one of the goals, but Coach had kept him in as goalie. Anna rolled her eyes a little as he bragged about his spectacular stops, but his play had been amazing, especially for a kid his age. Okay, she was a proud mama. But she also suspected Nate had been right that select soccer was in her future—assuming she and the kids settled somewhere that had a select program, and that she could afford the extra cost of travel.

  She was finding it harder and harder to envision that future.

  With no school tomorrow, once everyone was done eating, she and Nate let the kids race back to whatever game had had them hooting and gasping earlier. Her two had never had trouble including Molly. In fact...they were all behaving like siblings. That thought was another uneasy one. They weren’t family. She couldn’t let herself forget for a minute.

  Nate helped her clear the table and load the dishwasher, a domestic dance they’d perfected on the occasions they’d eaten together. He poured coffee for both of them and said, “Why don’t we sit outside?”

  Only a hint of color remained over the dark hump of Seattle they could see across the lake. This time, Nate turned on the outside lights. Anna savored the cool air. She could smell meat grilling and hear voices from a couple houses away, and lighted boats passed.

  “So, who’s the idiot?” she asked.

  He grunted. “Oh, there are a couple of them.”

  “Thing One and Thing Two?”

  He laughed at the Dr. Seuss reference. “Wish I’d thought of that while I was dealing with them.”

  She listened in silence as he talked until he started to sound hoarse.

  “So they ignored your advice, but now you’re supposed to fix everything that went wrong,” she said at last.

  “That would be it.” Nate sighed. “This guy has genius ideas. I’ve seen the second game he and his team are working on now. He’ll need more money to get it into production, of course.” He shook his head and gave a disbelieving laugh. “I need to convince him to fire the other idiot, hire an executive who can take a firm hold, and thereafter butt out where marketing, manufacturing and distribution are concerned.”

  “Is he refusing?”

  “No, he’s suitably scared right now. He sat there nodding for all he’s worth, saying ‘You’re right, absolutely...sure, sure.’”

  “Not in front of idiot number two?”

  “No, I spent the morning with both of them, the afternoon alone with Andy Mayernik. I just don’t think he grasps that he’s no businessman and never will be, that he has to hire people who know what they’re doing and trust them to do it unless and until they screw up.”

  Anna said, “Let me guess. You’ll spend the next few months breathing down his neck.”

  “As if I don’t have anything better to do.” He slouched lower in his chair. “Was Josh upset that I couldn’t make it today?”

  “There’s no reason he should be,” she said carefully. “We have no claim on you.” She gazed at the lake as if she didn’t know he had turned his head to look at her.

  “Does a kid think that way?” he said after a minute.

  Anna sighed, letting down her guard. “Probably not. He was disappointed, but he’s not too young to understand that the adults in his life can’t always set aside their other obligations for his sake. It’s not as if he didn’t have transportation to the game and his own cheering section.”

  “You’re trying to tell me Jenna and Molly actually watched?” Amusement changed the timbre of his voice.

  “Well, okay, he had his mom there.” For some reason, she kept going. “He doesn’t talk about his dad a lot, but on the way home he did. He admitted having me there isn’t the same. Moms are different.”

  “I’m assuming he didn’t mean in the obvious way.” This amusement was enriched by a hint of sexual play.

  She refused to see what that looked like on his face.

  After a pause, he said, “Molly would probably say dads are different.”

  “Fathers are important to little girls.”

  “If I’d had a sister, I might have a better idea what she needs from me.”

  Laying her hand on his arm wasn’t something she could imagine consciously doing, but there it was. Beneath her fingertips and palm, she felt warm skin, taut muscle, tendons, the surprisingly soft texture of the hairs on his forearm. Anna was also very conscious that he had gone completely still, although he was watching her.

  She snatched her hand back as if she’d foolishly reached into a dying fire for a coal, hurrying into speech at the same time. “I think you’re giving her what she needs most right now. Stability, faith that she can always depend on you. I know she’s...turned inward, which might feel like rejection to you, but she’s dealing with the hurt of having her mother let her down in a big way. Parents aren’t supposed to be fallible.”

  “And yet I was.” He sounded grim.

  She almost asked if he really had been neglecting Molly, but she kept her mouth shut. In fact, a panicky need to escape almost overcame her. Her emotions felt too much like the ball crashing between obstacles in an old-fashioned pinball machine, the whop of paddles representing all the outside forces battering her. No matter how well she’d gotten to know Nate, a small part of her still wanted to believe his cancellation that day had been part of a pattern of neglect. Because then...then she was entitled to be angry.

  And she knew quite well why she needed to hold on to anger.

  She jumped to her feet. “Sitting here talking is probably the last thing you want to do after a long day. I’d better corral my kids and get them ready for bed.”

  “You’re wrong,” he said to her back, but it was best if he thought she hadn’t heard him.

  * * *

  NATE LET THE determined woman in front of him almost steal the ball before he deftly hooked it with his foot and passed it to his pint-size teammate. When Josh rushed at her, Jenna squeaked and kicked it to Molly.

  Backing into the goal, Josh watched the ball with the same eagle eye he did during games. No way he was going to be humiliated by his sister or another girl.

  Anna deserted Nate to race toward Molly.

  “Kick it in!” Nate called. “Or back to me or Jenna.”

  Jenna had a killer instinct, but he was afraid Molly might be too timid for the game. She definitely hadn’t liked the ball flying at her when she tried playing goalie.

  Alarm more than expertise explained a kick that sent the ball right in front of him instead of at the goal—and gave him the perfect opportunity to tap it into the corner.

  Josh groaned theatrically and flopped on the ground. “Three against two isn’t fair. I have to play guard and goalie.”

  Nate laughed. “You don’t think you’re the equal of two girls who’ve never played the game?”

  “’Course I am!” He sprang to his feet. “I’m going to score on you now.”

  “You can try.”

  When Nate had suggested earlier they all go to the elementary school to kick the ball around, he’d expected Anna to make an excuse not to come. But she was looking at Josh and then Molly when she’d agreed.

  They voted that Josh couldn’t wear shin guards or soccer shoes since no one else had them. Anna had appeared in jeans, a blue T-shirt and athletic shoes, her golden hair in a ponytail. During the drive to the field, he’d asked, “Have you ever played so
ccer?”

  “In high school, I was on my school team. Not good enough to get recruited by colleges, but it was fun.” She sneaked a look over her shoulder. The kids seemed fully engaged in arguing over whether it would be better to have a dog or a horse. “I...haven’t made a big deal out of it.” Fleeting sadness crossed her face. “He and Kyle had fun together developing his skills.”

  In other words, she’d let her husband enjoy her kid’s adulation, whether he knew anything about the sport or not.

  Instinct told him to keep it light. “So you’re telling me I recruited a ringer for the other team,” Nate said.

  She didn’t look at him, but he saw her smile. “Maybe.”

  So it had proved. She was superbly athletic. From the first drop of the ball, he’d been blown away by her speed and grace. Some women with such spectacularly long legs were coltish, even gawky, but not Anna. Her footwork was so deft she could have been dancing.

  The result was she and Josh were formidable opponents. They’d all had fun, even Josh occasionally going easy on his sister so she could have some success.

  This time, Nate left Jenna in the goal and came out to meet Josh and Anna, who passed the ball down the field as if they’d done it a thousand times. He and Molly tried without success to steal it. He launched himself forward to block Anna’s pass and crashed into her. She went down, and he toppled with her.

  He tried to catch some of his weight on his shoulder, but he heard her hard exhalation of air when he landed on her. Dazed for a moment, he couldn’t move. Finally, he lifted his head.

  “You okay?”

  She squeezed her eyes shut, then opened them again. Her eyes were a little glassy. “I...think so.”

  “Damn, I’m sorry.”

  “It was just as much my fault.”

  Now was when he should move, get to his feet. Help her up. No, he should have already done that, before his body had a chance to notice he was lying on top of a woman who was soft in all the right places.

  Too late.

  He felt mesmerized, unable to look away from her face. Her mouth was tantalizingly close. If he dipped his head a few inches, he’d be kissing her. Her lips parted, and he forced his gaze upward to find startled awareness in her eyes. For an instant, they were in a bubble separated from the rest of the world. He heard the kids’ voices, but as if muffled by distance. He saw only Anna, her eyes a wide, stunning shade of deep blue, her lips soft, her cheeks pink.

  Then he gave his head a shake and awkwardly lifted himself off so he didn’t do more damage. That’s when the kids came back into focus. Looking worried, Jenna crouched next to Anna. Josh stood above her. Even Molly hovered anxiously. Nate checked to be sure his shirt hung low enough to hide his erection.

  “Mommy? You’re not hurt, are you?”

  Anna laughed, the strain something he was apparently alone in hearing.

  “No, I’m resting. Your dad is heavy,” she told Molly, who produced a shy smile. Then she looked at Josh. “Did we score?”

  He grinned. “Of course, we did.”

  Laughing more naturally, she took Nate’s hand and let him hoist her to her feet. “Ha!” she said saucily. “Tackling me didn’t work.”

  “You really okay?” he asked. “I took you down hard.”

  Anna rolled her shoulders, then bent to touch her toes. “I really am. So what’s the score?”

  He had no idea and couldn’t care less.

  “We’re tied fifteen-fifteen,” Josh said. “You’re not supposed to have scores that high in soccer.”

  “The way we bent the rules made it inevitable,” Nate suggested. “Shall we play a sudden-death overtime, or go have pizza?”

  “Pizza!” two of the kids cheered.

  Molly looked worried again. “What’s sudden death?”

  Josh bounced the ball on his head most of the way back while Nate tried to explain why the sporting world equated losing with death. He was grateful that Anna lagged behind with Jenna so he wasn’t compelled to watch the sway of her hips or her pale nape, revealed every time her ponytail swung. He had time to cool off and reinforce his thinking that taking Anna into his bed was a bad idea on so many levels there was no reason even to enumerate them. What he ought to do was look around at other women...except he couldn’t remember the last time he’d met one who interested him.

  Except, of course, for Anna Grainger.

  * * *

  WHAT HAD BECOME a weekly pizza outing was challenging Anna’s determination to keep her and her children’s lives neatly separate from Nate’s and Molly’s.

  Molly...well, including her fully when her father wasn’t around seemed natural. Anna was glad Josh especially was willing, or their hours at Molly’s house would have been awkward. Jenna would never be a problem; she liked everybody. Josh, however, had been getting to an age when he preferred to ignore the existence of girls. She doubted that compassion explained his generous friendship. Molly’s Xbox and wealth of other toys and DVDs was a more likely explanation. At school he probably pretended he didn’t know her.

  Anna wished she could think of a way to limit the time the two families spent together once Molly’s dad came home to assume responsibility for her, but she knew how strange it would look to the kids if she insisted on an instant departure every day as soon as Nate walked in.

  She gave an almost soundless sigh as he devoured the last piece of pizza. “Not worth taking home with us,” he’d declared with a grin that had an electric effect on her.

  All she wanted was to take herself home where she could think about those few stunned minutes when intense arousal had come out of nowhere. Yes, it was the first time since Kyle’s death—since probably a month before his death, really—that she’d had a man’s body lying atop hers. When she’d felt the growing bulge pressed almost where it felt best, she’d clenched inside in involuntary, intense reaction. She had come so close to letting her thighs part and arching up to meet him. Right there on the mowed field in front of their kids.

  Now she’d reverted to the numbness that was her usual protection. It allowed her to carry on a conversation during the drive home, and nobody except possibly Nate knew anything was wrong. He did send a couple odd glances her way. There’d been that moment when their eyes met, when she thought he might kiss her. He knew his body wasn’t alone in reacting to their proximity.

  That’s all it had been, she assured herself. After all, she’d been conscious of him all along as an attractive man. What woman wouldn’t be? But Anna knew she was a very long way from being ready to start a relationship with any man. From trusting a man. Even if that time came, how could it be Nate Kendrick?

  It can’t, she told herself firmly and desolately. If nothing else, she and the kids wouldn’t be here past Christmas break at the latest. Surely before then, Sonja would understand that she could lose her daughter for good if she didn’t fight her alcoholism. If she didn’t try, if she failed...

  Nate would have to find a permanent live-in housekeeper/child-minder. Anna was sure he’d have no trouble at all doing that.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ANNA TAPPED HER fingers on the steering wheel as the line of cars edged forward slowly. There was no reason to stew; she’d allowed plenty of time. Three days a week, she picked up Josh and Molly after school so they could make it to soccer practice in time. When she’d reminded them this morning as she walked them to the bus stop, Molly had sighed heavily and begged, “Can’t we miss one practice?”

  Before Josh could jump in, Anna had said, “Josh made a commitment, and that means I did, too. Besides, he enjoys playing. I’ll tell you what, though. Maybe Friday we can arrange for you to go home with Arianna until practice is over.”

  Molly had brightened at that.

  They inched forward two more car lengths. Anna could finally see the stretch in front of the elementary school where kids w
ere waiting. In the back seat, Jenna nibbled fastidiously on a molasses cookie.

  The line moved again. Anna was sure she saw Molly and Josh, mostly because Molly’s hair was so distinctive. Although they stood side by side, they didn’t seem to be talking. In the car, they’d start squabbling like brother and sister, but she’d been right that they were more like reluctant acquaintances in front of their friends.

  Suddenly unable to stand one more round of Sesame Street Silly Songs, Anna ejected the CD.

  “Mommy!” Jenna complained.

  But Anna hardly heard her, because Josh was running all out toward her car. Molly...where was Molly? Not where she’d been standing.

  Gasping, he wrenched open the passenger door. “Molly’s mother is here, Mom! She’s trying to make Molly go with her.”

  “Stay here with Jenna.” Anna leaped out, uncaring that her car would block the single lane, and sprinted for the pickup area. Her head turned as she looked desperately for that red hair.

  There Molly was, hesitating—no, resisting—as Sonja urged her toward the passenger seat of the sleek Jaguar Anna recognized.

  “Stop!” Anna yelled. Children and adults all stared at her. Sonja flashed a single glance her way before lifting Molly and thrusting her into the car. She slammed the passenger door and raced around the front bumper to the driver side. She was hemmed in enough not to be able to pull out quickly. Anna didn’t hesitate to jump in front of the Jaguar, any more than she had when she’d caught the private investigator filming her.

  She slammed her palms down on the hood and yelled, “Help! She’s not allowed to take this child!”

  Two adults—teachers?—hurried forward, while a third herded the cluster of waiting children farther from the curb.

  Both recognized Anna immediately.

  The older woman said, “Molly told us this is her mother.”

  “She is, but she’s allowed only supervised visitation right now. She can’t take Molly on her own, and especially not in a car. She has a drinking problem.”