by Shayla Black
“Hi, Lauren, girls. Come in,” he invited.
As they filed inside, Emma sent him a very solemn look for a six-year-old. He wondered what it would take to make the girl smile again. Of everyone affected, the divorce had hit this child the hardest. She reminded him of Tim—all drive, buried sense of humor, and damn smart. Still, he hoped that she gave herself the chance to be a little girl before it was too late. And he hoped he could help her.
“Thank you for inviting us,” Emma said without a smile.
“You're welcome. I haven't used my pool that much since I moved in. It's getting lonely, so I had to invite some company over.”
Emma frowned. “Pools don't get lonely. They get dirty.”
Too serious by far. Over time, he’d find a way to put a smile back on her face.
“Are you sure? I could swear I heard it whispering to me… ‘Why bother if you never use me?’”
A corner of Emma’s little pink mouth twitched. “You’re silly.”
“Twim. Now!” Cass demanded, wriggling on Lauren's hip until the child nearly fell.
Noah scooped the little blonde bundle up with a laugh and a hug.
“Right now,” Noah promised.
“Sorry,” Lauren murmured. “They’re a handful.”
“They're wonderful. This big ol’ house has been way too silent lately. We all could use a good time.”
“It’s a huge house for one,” she said, looking around.
Noah shrugged. Better not to mention just now that, about a year ago, he’d purchased this four bedroom, three bath house with her and the girls in mind…and made sure the place had enough room for a nursery.
“Lots of room is never a bad thing,” he said vaguely. “Good tax break.”
He noticed then that Lauren carried a large bag over her shoulder stuffed with towels and other goodies. It smelled of…
“Chocolate chip cookies?” His nose wasn’t deceiving him, right?
Lauren made the best cookies. After one bite, if he hadn’t already fallen in love with her, he’d have surrendered his heart on the spot.
“Emma and I baked a quick batch as a thank you for inviting us.”
“Walnuts?” he asked hopefully.
“Some with, some without. Cass is allergic to most nuts.”
Noah made a mental note to be careful with the little girl and nuts as he led them deeper into the house, past the formal living and dining rooms, to the kitchen and the back of the house. Emma hovered close to a corner, while Cass ran across the floor and pressed her face against the French doors, looking out at the pool beyond.
Lauren set her bag down and regarded him with a self-conscious expression. “What can I do to help with dinner?”
“Just talk to me. Everything is mostly ready. All I have to do is barbeque.” He turned back to the girls. "Who wants hamburgers and hot dogs?"
“Me!” Cass bounced up and down.
“Yes, please,” Emma said quietly, clutching a Saddle Club book in her little hands.
“Maybe you can have one of each and we won't tell your mom,” he said in a stage whisper.
“I heard that.” Lauren smiled.
“Darn.” Noah laughed. “I suppose I'll have to let you punish me later,” he shot her a wicked grin…just to watch her reaction.
Lauren didn't disappoint. She flushed a sweet rosy shade. “You wish.”
She had no idea. If the punishment included some reciprocal action, he was definitely all for it.
* * * *
Within a few minutes, Lauren followed Noah outside and chatted as he grilled their dinner. A few potato chips and some fruit salad later, they were eating. Afterward, the girls swam. Cass paddled with her floaties, laughing. Emma rigorously practiced her freestyle up and down the pool until Lauren had to remind her that swimming was supposed to be fun, too.
She sighed.
“You’re worried about her.” Noah glanced across the small patio at Emma.
Twilight wrapped them in a warm-breezed cocoon, decorated with twinkling lights and emerging stars. How romantic it was here, among his wild plants and tropical flowers, the pool’s waterfall gently rushing in the background. The girls played quietly and, for a moment, she could imagine that she and Noah were alone.
Dangerous. Stupid. Asking for a broken heart.
“Yes,” she said finally. “I worry about Emma. She’s so…”
“Like Tim. Very serious. You’re doing the right things to encourage her to be a kid while she can.”
“I know. She just has so little to be happy about. Kids tease her for being so smart. I try to be both Mom and Dad but—”
“It’s not the same as having a father for her, is it?”
“No. I had such a special bond with my dad before he passed away. It kills me that Em and Cass don’t have the same thing.”
“Maybe you’ll remarry someday.”
She rolled her eyes. “No, I won’t.”
“Never say never.”
Noah looked at her then, straight at her, deep in her eyes. His icy blue eyes sizzled with something, and Lauren’s heart skipped a beat. Why did he care if she remarried?
She stared back, focusing for a moment on his hair, which fell just to his collar, waving slightly as it brushed his forehead and ears. His mouth snared her gaze next, followed by the width of his shoulders. Familiarity tugged at her, not because he seemed like himself in that moment. But as darkness descended and shadows enveloped the yard, he reminded her of Mr. Mysterious. Different voice, but so many other things were so similar.
No. Impossible. Stupid, wishful thinking.
“Mom, can I have a cookie now?” Emma asked, wrapped in a big orange beach towel.
“Sure, they’re in the house. Dry off and take Cass with you. Give her a cookie from the storage container with the red lid. That batch doesn’t have nuts. Sit at the kitchen table. No wet feet on Noah’s carpet.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Emma grabbed her little sister’s hand and took the instructions to heart.
“Wait,” Noah said softly to Emma. “You’re six now?”
“Almost seven.” She thrust up her little chin.
“Did you know that almost-seven-year-old girls are magical?” he asked solemnly.
Emma hesitated, her wet brown curls draped over her shoulders. “What do you mean? There’s no such thing.”
“There is. Girls your age, they have magic, usually in their ears. Can I look in yours?”
An even longer pause this time, still looking skeptical. “It won’t hurt, will it?”
“Not a bit. Close your eyes.”
For another moment, Emma paused, then she complied, her little lashes fluttering down onto rosy cheeks.
Lauren’s heart clenched with sadness. Since the divorce, Emma was so afraid and mistrusting. She seemed sure that everything good would be taken away from her. She didn’t want to be babied, as if she’d decided that she’d never let herself down but everyone else might.
Noah lifted his hand and swept it behind her ear. When it emerged again and Emma opened her eyes, there was a twinkling light between his fingers, winking right up at her older daughter.
And miracle of miracles, Emma smiled. “How’d you do that?”
“I didn’t do anything. It was your magic,” he assured her.
“I didn’t know I was magical.” The idea seemed to excite her.
“There should always be magic when you’re young, before you have grown-up responsibilities and jobs. Enjoy your magic, Emma.”
Her daughter cocked her head and regarded Noah with a considering expression. A little smile emerged. “I like being magical.”
“How much magic you let into your life is up to you.”
Emma stayed still, saying and doing nothing for a long minute. Finally, she put her little hand on Noah’s forearm and leaned in to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.”
A heartbeat later, she skipped away.
Lauren’s breath caught. Tears stung her eyes. �
�How did you do that?”
He shrugged. “She’s had so much reality in her young life, I figured she could do with a little whimsy.”
“You’re right. I should have tried something like that…” She smiled at him, eyes watering. “You planned that, didn’t you? Just to put a smile on her face.”
He nodded sheepishly, confirming her suspicions. “It’s no big deal…”
But it was. To her, it was a huge deal.
“You’ve had too much reality, too,” he said, taking her hand and sliding it against his strong palm.
At his touch, her heart stuttered, then began to slam against her chest in pounding beats.
“In some ways, Emma reminds me of you,” he said quietly. “She’s watched you and learned about not letting anyone close, about shutting people out of your heart. Lauren, you’re too young to be alone.”
Wow, this conversation had turned personal—fast. She looked down, suddenly uncomfortable. “I’m not alone. I have the girls—”
“I meant a man.”
Who? She wanted Noah, while he wanted some bimbo she’d never met. Mr. Mysterious wanted her, and while some part of her was attached to him, she knew she wasn’t going to be happy with just sex. Last night had proven that in ugly, garish color. She wasn’t going to be happy without the whole package, great sex and sublime happiness with a man who could make her think, make her laugh, who cared about her daughters, worked hard, played hard.
A man like Noah.
Suddenly Lauren and Noah were alone on the moon-drenched patio. He was holding her trembling hand between his strong palms, looking right into her eyes. And she was feeling decidedly nervous. And mushy right in the middle of her chest. She yearned to lean in, kiss him.
Lauren shut her eyes, wishing she could shut out the reality that she loved the man who would be perfect for her, if only he could love her, too.
But it wasn’t meant to be.
Slowly, her gaze wound back up to his. “We talked about this.”
“You said a lot of bullshit I don’t believe.”
“It’s just not going to work. But don’t worry about me. How’s it going with your divorcée?”
“Still up in the air. Don’t change the subject. You can’t be alone the rest of your life. What will you do for companionship?”
“I—I have friends. You’re my friend,” she pointed out.
The observation made his lips press into a thin line. He looked decidedly unhappy. “Who will help you raise the girls?”
“Plenty of other moms do it alone. I’ll manage.”
That answer didn’t make him any happier. “What will you do for sex?”
The question took Lauren aback. She tried to snatch her hand from Noah’s grip.
He held tight. “Come on, Lauren. Who is going to hold you late at night when you’re tired of being alone and your body is aching? Or you’ve had a rough day and need someone to talk to?”
She swallowed, trying not to let the tears threatening fall. Honestly, she’d asked herself those questions before. Hundreds of times. “I don’t know.”
Noah cupped her cheek in his palm, his gaze intense but unreadable. Warmth seeped into her. God, what she wouldn’t give to have him look at her in love and desire…and the million other emotions he’d never feel for her.
She loved him. And he’d never love her. Period. Yes, she told Kat that she would tell Noah how she felt about him, but what was the point now that he was determined to marry someone else? Right now, he had the perfect opportunity to kiss her, if he was so inclined. But he didn’t…and she knew he wasn’t. That spoke volumes.
“You need to start thinking about your possibilities,” he said quietly.
Possibilities? Like who? Gary in accounting, who seemed like a carbon copy of Tim? The new neighbor down the street who had to be fifteen years older than her? She wanted badly to confront Noah, to ask him who the hell he meant and if he was offering up himself.
But she didn’t have the courage.
For the second night in a row, she was angry with herself. Ashamed.
“It’s late. The girls have school tomorrow. We’d better go.”
Chapter Nine
Déjà vu. That’s what trekking through Lauren’s house, guided only by the flicking light of the nearly silent TV felt like to Noah.
Only this time he had so much more to lose.
Last night by his pool, something on Lauren’s face had changed. Her resolve to stay removed from him had slipped. Besides her flushed cheeks, he’d seen tears swimming in her big brown eyes. And the way she’d looked at him in those moments, as if she could barely keep herself from touching him and blurting out whatever was in her heart.
But she’d stayed silent, damn it, forcing him to plot his next move—only he wasn’t quite sure now what move to make. He, who was never without a plan, was suddenly forced to wing it.
Noah held in a curse as he crept down the hall, toward her bedroom, aware that working on the fly wasn’t his strong suit and everything could blow up in his face.
But something had to give. Hours with Lauren at the office were now the most painful torture. He knew he was close to everything he wanted, close to persuading her there could be a them. But after ten years of waiting, he was beyond impatient.
Still, he had cause for hope. Her daughters responded to him, which was important to her. Lauren had acknowledged—even if to herself—that she wasn’t going to be happy alone. They were good together, personally, professionally.
Sexually.
God, yes. Memories of her were enough to make him hard as steel. Sinking into her and drowning sounded like heaven. He cared about her. Hell, he loved her, more now than ever.
The question was, how to tell her that without scaring her away?
Wearing his black ski mask, he entered her darkened bedroom. Lauren lay on her side wearing a pale, thin tank top and little white cotton panties. He smiled. She’d said she was more than a white cotton woman when he’d sent her the red thong. He’d suspected she had a drawer full of white cotton—and he didn’t care. She could wear a potato sack as long as she was his.
Easing his way to the bed, he removed the cuffs from the pocket of his jeans, intending to bind Lauren to the headboard. He couldn’t just fuck her again the way he had Wednesday night. Yeah, it had felt just fine while he was balls deep inside her. But the catch in her voice and the tears he’d heard her shed after she believed he’d gone…they tore him up. But Mr. Mysterious couldn’t tell her he loved her again. Noah had to be the one to say it this time.
Hell, he wished creating Mr. Mysterious had never been necessary, but he’d known he couldn’t talk her into love. He had to show her what she was giving up, how good they could be, how unsatisfying “just sex” was.
Since Tim had thankfully taken the kids again for the weekend, Noah had cooked up Mr. Mysterious one more time. And he hoped this would be the last time he came to Lauren in disguise.
When he reached the side of the bed, his heart pounded. Damn, he was hard and hot and ready. But he needed to keep his cool.
Taking a deep breath, he clasped Lauren’s wrist in his grip. She surprised him by jerking away from him and rolling to face him.
She was wide awake.
“I had a feeling you’d be back tonight.”
Shock stupefied him. She’d expected him? What the hell was he supposed to say to that? No clue. But her hostile, challenging expression jolted Noah right out of his silence.
“Why?” He deepened his voice, changing it until it scratched even his own ears.
“You’re getting predictable. You were here Monday and Wednesday…and now it’s Friday. Your pattern was easy to figure out, and you always seem to know when my children are gone.”
“I pay attention. Apparently, so do you.”
“Why are you here? Got an itch?” she said snidely. “I’m done scratching you.”
“You didn’t like being treated that way?”
“Like a meaningless one-night stand. Hell no!”
“Neither did I.”
Some of the anger drained from her face. She unclenched her fists. “I never meant to hurt you when you said you loved me. I panicked and I wasn’t…nice.”
He shrugged, wondering where this was going. “The way I approached you wasn’t nice.”
She sat up, then got to her knees, edging closer. “Who are you?”
“We’ll get to that later.”
“Now. Or I’m going to call the cops.”
“No, you’re not. Because then you’d have to admit that you let me in before and willingly had sex with me—repeatedly. What are the chances they’d do much to help you then?”
She set her jaw in a mutinous, tight line. “Fine. But you should know that I realized you’re using the spare key on my front porch to let yourself in. After tonight, I’m moving it.”
“That won’t stop me. I’ll pursue you until I get what I want.”
“What is that exactly? If you wanted to have sex with me, you did. As you pointed out, more than once. What the hell else do you want?”
Marriage. Babies. Love. “More than a fuck.”
Lauren edged away and cursed. “That’s not a whole answer, and I’m done playing your games.”
“Good. I’m tired of having to play them.” Noah leaned closer, invading her personal space. “I can think of a lot of things I want to do with a beautiful woman like you, and playing mind games is at the bottom of the list. Touching you…” He skated a fingertip across her nearly bare shoulder. “That’s at the top.”
She opened her mouth to protest, Noah was sure. Before she could, he cupped the back of her head in his palm and captured her parted lips. They were damp under his, the bottom lip slightly swollen like she’d been chewing on it again. Lauren had eaten something chocolate recently and she tasted like heaven. And hesitation. In fact, she braced her hands against his shoulders as if she meant to push him away.
