by Judy Duarte
“Hey,” Becky said, when Zack climbed into the driver’s seat. “Whose baby car seat is back here?”
“It’s my daughter’s,” Zack said. “I forgot it was back there.”
“You have a baby daughter?” Jessie asked, brown eyes growing wide. “I didn’t know that.”
Diana realized, in all the times he’d chatted with her girls, he hadn’t told them about Emily. And she wondered why.
“Yes, I have a little girl. But she’s not really a baby anymore, even though she’s still required to sit in a car seat. She’s four. And just starting preschool this week.”
“Is she going to Burger Bob’s with us?” Jessie asked.
“No, not today.”
“Then next time?”
Zack tightened his grip on the steering wheel and started the engine. He didn’t turn around, didn’t look at Jessie through the rearview mirror. “Maybe so. We’ll have to see.”
That was pretty noncommittal, Diana realized. Was he taking it slow and easy? Just getting his feet wet?
Or maybe the offer of dinner at the hamburger place was just what he’d said it was—a way of repaying Diana and the girls for providing him dinner a couple of times.
The rest of the drive was relatively quiet. And before long, they’d pulled into Burger Bob’s parking lot, gotten out of the car and entered the fast-food restaurant with an indoor climbing structure that would keep the girls entertained for hours.
“Can we play first?” Jessie asked. “Please. I’m not hungry yet.”
“You said you were back at the house,” her sister reminded her.
“But I changed my mind. Maybe, if I get to play for awhile, my stomach will be hungry again.”
“Do you mind if we wait a little bit before ordering?” Diana asked Zack. “Or are you in a hurry?”
He cracked a smile. “I don’t think anyone with kids ever expects to make a quick stop at a place like this. Why don’t we sit down and let them play. I’ll get us something to drink.”
“Okay.”
“How about a chocolate shake?”
“I probably ought to have a diet soda,” she said, realizing how hard she had to work to keep her weight from zooming out of control, especially with all the starchy food that didn’t put too big of a crunch on her budget.
“But you like chocolate,” he said, blue eyes boasting a boyish glimmer.
Yes, she did. “It sounds tempting.”
And so was his smile. In fact, the man would tempt a saint.
“You don’t have to drink the whole thing.”
She’d never invested in anything she didn’t intend to use. But he made it difficult to be frugal. Or wise. “All right. I’ll indulge, but just for tonight.”
At least, when it came to having a calorie-laden shake. Would there be other temptations, as the evening wore on?
He flashed her a smile that made her want to treat herself to more than chocolate.
“Why don’t you find us a table,” he suggested, “while I place the order.”
“Sure.”
Minutes later, Diana sat on a red-vinyl seat in a corner booth, her hands resting on the white Formica tabletop. Every once in a while, she spotted one of the girls crawling through a section of the bright yellow tunnels suspended overhead.
As Zack approached with a tray of drinks, she smiled at him. “The girls sure love this place.”
“I figured they would. Emily enjoys it so much that she and I come here almost every Sunday afternoon.” He placed the tray on the table, then unloaded four shakes, a king-size order of fries and several plastic pouches of ketchup.
She arched an eyebrow. “I thought you were just getting a couple of milkshakes.”
He shrugged. “I thought the girls might be happy with a snack.”
“This is a snack?” She nodded toward the appetite-stealing shakes and fries.
“Yep. Especially when I can eat two of those Triple Beef Burgers with bacon and cheese and still feel hungry.” He tossed her a playful grin. “Would it make you feel better to call it an appetizer?”
Oh, what the heck. She tried her best to make nutritious snacks and meals for her daughters. What would it hurt to let down her guard for one night?
“We’ll call it whatever you like.” She reached for a fry and popped it into her mouth.
Zack couldn’t help watching Diana eat and was mesmerized by the way her lips parted as she slid a fry into her mouth, the way her jaw moved slowly, seductively. By the way she swallowed.
She had one of those swanlike necks made for kissing, and he couldn’t help wondering what kind of throaty noises she’d make, if he…
Nah. He wouldn’t do something that bold. Not in a public place, anyway. Or even in private, he supposed.
Ever since that night on her back porch, when he’d nearly kissed her, he’d made a point of keeping his hands to himself. After all, she’d vowed not to get involved with anyone like that hard-assed rebel she’d snuck out with as a teenager.
And even though Zack could list a hundred ways he was different from and better than Travis Whatever-His-Name-Was, the bastard who hadn’t appreciated her, one truth came busting to the fore-front.
Diana deserved more than Zack could give her.
Yet here they sat, like two teenagers out on a Saturday afternoon date. He grinned at the irony.
Years ago, he’d never brought a girl to a place like this. His idea of a date had been sharing a bottle of cheap, fruity wine—the kind with a screw-top lid—while stretched out under the camper shell that covered the bed of his truck. And unlike that jerk Travis, Zack hadn’t had any trouble finding a nice, quiet place, away from prying eyes.
Or from police officers who drove by looking for minors making out.
He glanced at Diana, saw her watching him. What was she thinking? Had she picked up on the romantic vibes he’d been getting?
Probably not at a place like this. Not with all the noise and clatter from the kitchen or the kids shrieking as they slid down purple tubular slides or crawled through yellow plastic tunnels.
So why was he finding this place hormone-stirring?
Okay. So it wasn’t the setting at all. It was the woman sitting across from him. And he was getting a testosterone buzz just by watching her.
But moments later, when Becky and Jessie came running to the table, out of breath, their hairlines damp with perspiration, the image of anything remotely datelike vanished.
While Zack placed their dinner order, Diana took Becky and Jessie to the restroom to wash up.
Their burgers and chicken strips were up in no time at all. And before long, the girls had eaten their fill and taken off to play again, leaving Zack and Diana alone once more.
“Thank you for bringing us here,” she told him. “The girls are having a good time. We haven’t gotten out much this summer.”
“I’m glad this is a treat for them.”
For a moment, he thought about the barbecue he’d been invited to at Harry Logan’s next weekend. He’d only attended a couple of the functions Kay and Harry had hosted. But each one had been fun, making him feel like one of the guys who’d been dubbed Logan’s Heroes, a group of one-time juvenile delinquents who’d turned their lives around.
Harry had planned an informal badminton game. And there’d be plenty of food, not to mention the camaraderie of the guys Zack was beginning to think of as brothers.
He wondered whether he should invite Diana and the girls—just as friends, of course.
Sometimes one of the guys brought a guest, who’d always been welcome.
An invitation was on the tip of Zack’s tongue, yet he held back. Would she misunderstand his intention?
Hell, he knew better than to get involved with her—romantically speaking. So maybe, if he worded it just right…
“You know, since you mentioned that you and the girls haven’t gotten out very much this summer, I thought you might like to go to a barbecue with me on Saturday. A friend
of mine and his wife, who have become surrogate parents to me, always put on a nice spread. And I’m sure they wouldn’t mind if I brought you and the girls as guests.”
She seemed to be seriously considering the invitation, then she scrunched her face. “It sounds really nice, but I’d feel funny tagging along to a party.”
“Believe me, it’s not a party. It’s more of a get-together. And if it makes you feel better, I’ll call and get an okay from them first. But I can pretty much guarantee they’ll say, ‘The more the merrier.’”
“You’re sure?”
“Absolutely.” He shot her what he hoped was a disarming smile.
“If it’s okay with them, and if you don’t mind, I suppose it would be fun to go to a backyard barbecue. Can I bring something?”
“How about some of those oatmeal cookies?”
“That’s all?”
“You can make a double batch, if that makes you feel better.” Zack tossed her a smile. He’d also pick up some extra hot dogs, buns and soda.
“All right,” she said, releasing a pretty smile that sent his senses topsy-turvy. “It sounds fun.”
Zack sat back in his seat, proud of himself for asking her. And happy she’d agreed to go.
But on the way home, after dropping her and the girls off at their house, he realized he might have been a bit premature with the invitation.
After all, there was a good chance that since Brett was one of Logan’s Heroes, too, that he, Caitlin and Emily would be there.
And as much as Zack would love to see his little girl on a day other than Sunday, he realized Diana was going to need an explanation about Emily’s living situation.
What would Diana think when she learned Zack’s four-year-old daughter lived in foster care and not with him?
Or that Zack didn’t allow Emily to visit him at his place, not when he had to worry about his probation officer showing up unexpectedly for a random search—something that might frighten and confuse her, since that kind of thing would never happen at her house.
Would the subject of his five-year stint in prison come to light? And if so, what would she think of him then?
He’d been convicted of a crime he’d witnessed, yet hadn’t committed. But early on he’d learned that most people believed the worst about an ex-con. And in the past, Zack had decided to not even give a rip.
But damn. He was going to look like a big loser in Diana’s eyes.
And that hurt more than he cared to admit.
Chapter Seven
There’d been seven whole days during which Zack could have leveled with Diana. But each time he’d driven past her street, each time he’d picked up the phone to call, he’d chickened out.
So that left Saturday afternoon—the day of the barbecue.
By the time he got to her house, a Boy Scout couldn’t have tied his stomach in a tighter knot. He parked his car at the curb, then plodded up the walk.
Why had he set himself up for this?
Why hadn’t he given more thought to inviting her and the girls to go with him today?
Well, it was too damn late to backpedal now. He was committed; his course was set. So he lifted his hand and knocked lightly on the door.
The girls greeted him with an enthusiastic welcome that nearly bowled him over.
“Hi, Zack! We’re ready to go.”
“Mommy made cookies, and we helped.”
“Are there going to be kids there?”
“Can I take my soccer ball and jump rope?”
“Slow down,” Diana said, as she carried a platter filled high with cookies out of the kitchen and into the living room. “You’re not even giving Zack a chance to respond.”
“That’s okay,” he told her. “They’re just excited.” But his focus wasn’t on the girls and their eagerness, but rather on Diana.
She wore a simple white sundress, and her sun-kissed brown hair had been swept into a twist held by a big, black clip.
“The girls have been making plans about what to wear and what to take since the moment they woke up this morning.” She slid him an angelic smile he didn’t deserve.
Zack made a halfhearted attempt to return a grin, trying to act as though everything was just fine, as though he wasn’t filled with dread about telling her something that would shade the way she looked at him from now on.
But it didn’t seem to be working.
“What’s the matter?” Diana asked, obviously picking up on his reluctance to speak, to move.
“Nothing. But I was wondering if…before we go…I could talk to you alone.”
“Sure.” She placed the platter of cookies on the coffee table. “Girls, why don’t you go into your room and find something to do for a few minutes.”
As Becky and Jessie grumbled and trudged down the hall, Zack shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans.
“Do you want to talk outside? Maybe on the back porch?”
He nodded. “Yeah. Sure. Outside is good.”
During his time at Riverview—a place that had neither a view nor a river running anywhere near it—fresh air and sunshine had become luxuries. So he figured being outdoors, especially since he’d had to earn the freedom to be there, would make telling her what she needed to know easier.
“Can I get you a cup of coffee or a glass of iced tea?”
He would really like a stiff drink about now—whisky, straight up, ought to do it—but he slowly shook his head. “No, thanks. I’m fine.”
She led him out to the patio, where they took a seat.
“What’s wrong?”
Zack sucked in a deep breath, unsure of how to start. How much to reveal. And when he gazed into Diana’s eyes and saw compassion and understanding—something he might never get from her again—he wanted to bolt across the yard, leap the block wall onto the construction site and hightail it home.
But he didn’t.
He cleared his throat, trying to dislodge his nervousness, his reluctance. “My…uh…daughter might be at the barbecue, and there’s something I need to tell you about her before we go.”
Diana’s breath caught. Was there something wrong with Zack’s daughter?
Was that why he hadn’t talked to the girls about her?
Back in Texas, Diana had worked as a bookkeeper at Buckaroo Ranch, which had originally been a resort for the rich and sometimes famous, until Jake Meredith, her friend and boss, converted the fancy dude ranch into a camp for handicapped children. With the help of his wife, Maggie, who was a top-notch pediatrician, Jake and a qualified staff provided the kids a safe environment in which to play.
What Zack didn’t know was that Becky and Jessie had spent a lot of time at the ranch, playing with the children, many of whom had cerebral palsy, like Kayla Meredith.
Her daughters had always been kind and accepting of people who were different, so she had every reason to believe they would do just fine with his little girl.
“I’m sure Becky and Jessie will enjoy meeting and playing with Emily. Don’t worry.” She reached across the table and took Zack’s hand in a move meant to make his revelation easier and to let him know she understood. But as her fingers grazed his scarred knuckles, a flood of warmth rushed through her veins, triggering more than her sympathy.
She tried her best to ignore it, to rally her senses, until his pained expression turned her heart on end, releasing a flurry of emotions too tender to explore.
“I’m sure you’re right. The girls will get along great.” His voice came out husky and deep, as though his reservations weighed it down.
“Then what do you have to explain?” she asked.
“Emily’s real mother died on the day she was born. And when the hospital released Emily, she was sent to live with a foster mother.”
“And?” Diana asked, knowing there was more to his story than that.
“She still lives there.” Zack took another deep breath, as though he needed the oxygen to clear his head. As though he was struggling with the rea
son his daughter lived in foster care and not with him.
“You don’t have custody?” She wondered if that was by choice.
“No. When I was a teenager, I got into a lot of trouble.”
Diana merely nodded, letting him know she’d heard him, even if she didn’t quite understand.
“When Emily was born, I was doing time for a crime I didn’t commit.”
Her eyes widened, and her lips parted. He’d been in jail? Or was it juvenile hall? He said he was innocent, but what had he been charged with? How long did he have to spend behind bars?
Before she could quiz him, he seemed to gloss over the incarceration. “Emily’s real mom, Teresa Carmichael, was a young woman I’d dated for a while. We weren’t in love with each other, and I doubt that given time, anything like that would have developed.”
He looked at her as though wanting her understanding, or maybe even her absolution, yet she just sat there, quietly taking it all in. If anyone had less of a right to sit in on a confession about premarital sex, it was Diana.
“After my arraignment, Teresa came to see me and told me she was pregnant. There wasn’t much I could do about it at that point. My hands were tied…or I guess you could say they were cuffed.”
“How did Teresa die?”
“When she was eight months pregnant, she was waiting at a bus stop, on her way to serve a Thanksgiving meal down at a rescue mission near the border. And during a drive-by shooting, a stray bullet struck her in the head. She was in a coma by the time they got her to the hospital. And before she died, Emily was delivered by caesarian, then placed in foster care.”
“Didn’t either of you have family that could have taken the baby?”
“Teresa never talked about her family or the reason why she ran away from home as a teenager. And since my Uncle Hank wasn’t able to look after an infant, the courts placed Emily with Caitlin.”
Diana couldn’t seem to think of a response, and he must have sensed her…surprise…confusion…concern.
“You have to understand,” he said, his eyes pleading. “Caitlin is a loving woman and the only mother my daughter has ever known. I couldn’t take her away from the kind of home I’d always wished I’d had. When you meet the Tanners, you’ll understand why.”
