by Coleen Kwan
“That’s why I brought my helpers,” Luke said.
“I love the wind chimes on your veranda,” the pretty teenager said. “Luke says you made them.”
“Yes, I did, and, uh, thanks.” She glanced at Luke, who gave her a lazy grin. He seemed very at ease, she thought. Probably he’d dismissed what happened the other night as soon as he’d gotten back home. She pursed her lips at the idea and glanced down at Chloe’s curls.
“Mumma.” Chloe tugged at her hand, her gaze pinned on the boy with the corn on the cob. “Can I have corn, too?” she stage-whispered.
“Sorry, sweetheart, but I don’t have any at the moment.”
“We’ve got heaps next door,” the boy said to Chloe. “Why don’t you come over?”
Chloe flushed and pressed her face into Tyler’s skirt. Before Tyler could respond, Luke hunkered down in front of her daughter. “We’ve got watermelon too, Little Miss Moppet. Do you like watermelon?” He waited until she nodded. “Well, then, looks like you’ll have to come next door with me.” He offered his hand to her.
So Tyler found herself going next door, with Chloe clutching Luke’s hand instead of hers. She’d never seen her daughter take to a relative stranger so quickly, and she was part-glad, part-miffed. On the one hand it was reassuring to see her daughter relating positively with a newcomer, but on the other hand, why did it have to be Luke? Tyler had enough trouble guarding her responses to the man without her daughter developing an attachment to him as well.
En masse, Luke’s four older sisters were a tad formidable. When Luke introduced her, one of them gave him a broad wink, while another, a slim, fierce-looking woman, gave her a hard stare.
“Sit down, sit down,” one of the other, friendlier sisters insisted, waving at the laden table on the deck. “We’re just having a casual lunch, picking at whatever we like.”
Luke helped Chloe to corn on the cob and sat her down next to him. Tyler, realizing her stomach was rumbling, piled her plate with salad and cold roast beef. His sisters might be intimidating, but they sure could cook.
The teenager who’d complimented her on her wind chimes drew up a seat next to her. “Is that necklace one of your designs, too?” she asked admiringly, pointing to the silver-and-moonstone chain dangling from Tyler’s neck.
“Yes. I sell them at Java & Joolz if you’re interested,” Tyler replied.
“Oh, Java & Joolz!” One of the sisters—Rosie, perhaps—sat up. “A friend was telling me about it. That’s the new gallery and coffee shop, isn’t it?”
Tyler nodded. “I’m the part owner.”
Rosie tapped the sister next to her. “We must visit there sometime, maybe next week.”
For a while they all chatted about the store, and Tyler found herself enjoying their company. As an only child, she envied Luke his four sisters. They were bossy, no doubt about it, but Luke had a way of defusing them, of making them laugh. Only Helen, the fierce-looking one, seemed to hold back, her expression frequently clouded while everyone else relaxed.
The children began to pester Luke to play with them. Eventually he coaxed Chloe to join him and the younger ones in a game of tetherball.
“Luke’s great with kids,” Karly said to Tyler. “He had no choice. He started babysitting for me and Helen when he was about twelve.”
Mags nodded. “By the time my Hannah was born he was sick of it, but he helped with her too, where he could.”
Tyler watched her daughter giggling as she clumsily swatted the ball to Luke. “Well, he’s certainly a hit with Chloe. It usually takes her a while to warm up to new people.” Her gaze shifted to Luke. The exercise had made his hair flop in his eyes, his skin gleamed with perspiration, and his T-shirt clung to his broad back. As he leaped back and forth over the grass, she couldn’t look away from him. It took quite an effort to wrench her gaze away, and as she did so, she caught Helen studying her.
“Luke’s only here for a short stay,” Helen said rather abruptly. “He’ll be coming back to Goulburn soon.”
Karly sat up. “Oh? He said that, did he?”
“Not in so many words, but I’m sure he will.” Helen lifted her shoulders. “Why should he stay here in someone else’s house when he has a perfectly good home of his own?”
“Why indeed.” Luke appeared out of nowhere and lowered himself into a chair next to Tyler. “There’s no reason except that I want to, and that’s good enough for me.”
“And Mum’s house?” Helen’s mouth twisted bitterly. “I suppose that’s not good enough for you now you’re a world-famous author.”
Instead of answering, Luke rubbed his face wearily.
The tiredness and tension emanating from Luke was palpable to Tyler. She glanced from his fatigued form to his sister, who sat rigid in her chair, her hands fisted and her mouth tight but trembling.
“I’d be very cross with Luke if he suddenly left,” Tyler heard herself saying. “After all, he’s promised to babysit Chloe for me.”
Four pairs of eyes swiveled in her direction. Luke raised his head, his eyes widening with suspicion.
“My regular babysitter came down with shingles,” Tyler continued. “And I can’t find someone suitable at such short notice. But Luke said he’d help me out.” In her sudden urge to help Luke, she’d blurted out the first thing that came to her. Now she had to embroider her story, even as Luke stared at her, his mouth clamped into a tight line, eyebrows drawn into a deep furrow.
“But what about his writing?” Helen asked. “He can’t babysit and write at the same time.”
“It’s only a few hours a couple of times a week.” Tyler waved her hand casually. “Doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a godsend to me. You know how hard it is to find good childcare, especially on short notice.”
The sisters exchanged glances. They couldn’t argue with that statement, Tyler knew. “I hate leaving Chloe with new babysitters,” she continued, warming to her theme. “But you’ve seen her with Luke. He’s so good with kids.” She turned to the man slouched next to her. “Aren’t you, Luke?”
Slowly he pushed himself upright. His eyes were coal black, his face impassive, and she had no idea what he was thinking, whether he was thanking her or cursing her for interfering.
Oh well. Might as well go for broke. She prodded him in the thigh, enjoying the feel of his taut muscle beneath the denim, and made a pretend scowl. “Huh. So you’ve changed your mind, have you? You’re going to let me down?”
He blinked once. “Would I do that?” he slowly replied. “If I said I’d babysit for you, then I will.”
Rosie and Mags nodded. Not even Helen could argue against a promise to babysit, and Tyler knew it. But as Luke continued to scrutinize her, he didn’t seem too grateful to her for rescuing him from a potential argument. Maybe he didn’t appreciate her interfering in family quarrels. Or maybe he was afraid she’d hold him to the babysitting story. Yeah, that’d be right.
…
When Luke’s visitors were gone, sudden silence descended on the house, but peace remained elusive. He put on some music and tried to read the weekend papers but ended up pacing around until the sun went down. An hour after sunset, he heard a knock at the front door. He opened it and drew in a breath.
“Hey there.” Tyler grinned at him.
She was all dressed up for a night out—short black skirt, black leather boots, and a red see-through blouse with a black camisole underneath. Her fiery hair tumbled down her back in luscious waves, and her lips were cherry red, glossy, and pouty. A small quilted black bag dangled from her shoulders.
Realizing he’d been holding his breath, he slowly exhaled. “What’s up?”
“Nothing. I just popped by to clear up that babysitting thing.”
Between the hem of her skirt and the black boots were several inches of smooth, creamy thigh, and through the filmy material of her top, her skin glowed like opal. The soft light spilling from his house cast a shadow between her breasts, emphasizing her cleavage. Her ligh
t perfume smelled of honeysuckle.
“Um?” he muttered, dazed by the sight and scent of her. This was the first time he’d seen her glammed up, and she was dynamite. So much so it almost hurt his eyes to watch her, but he couldn’t look anywhere else.
“Babysitting Chloe for me. I made it up to get your sister off your back.” She stuck her hip out and tilted her head to one side. “I’m reassuring you I won’t hold you to it.”
His attention wandered to her bare thighs again. Those high-heeled boots of hers made her legs seem even longer, raunchier. He swallowed and forced his gaze up. She looked at him with an amused expression. Yep, she knew what she was doing to him, the impudent minx.
He cleared his throat. “I don’t mind helping out with Chloe now and then.”
Her cherry red lips formed an O of astonishment. “You don’t?”
“Yeah, I’m a great babysitter.” Christ, why did he have to impress that on her? A sexy woman in a tiny skirt turned up on his doorstep and he immediately lost all his marbles?
“Oh.” Tyler seemed lost for words. She straightened and toyed with her hair. “Uh, I’ll keep that in mind.” She peered at him again. “Thanks.”
Annoyed with himself, he folded his arms and frowned down at her. “Where’s Chloe now?” The words came out brusquer than he’d intended.
“She’s at home. My aunt Daphne is babysitting tonight.”
“You’re going out?” Dumb question. In that getup, she wasn’t going grocery shopping.
She nodded, her hair gleaming in the light. “Yup. I don’t get out very often, so I’m making the most of it.”
He didn’t like the sound of that. “What’re you going to do?”
“Oh, bit of this and that. Dancing, playing pool, just hanging out.”
Dancing. In that skirt and those killer boots. Playing pool. Bending over and putting that sexy butt on display. Damn, he definitely didn’t like the sound of that. His shoulders tightened along with his voice. “Who with?”
“Some friends. Ally, Nate, a few others.” Her eyes sparkled at him. “Why don’t you come, too? It’s pretty casual, and you’ll have fun.”
He stared at this ravishing dream in front of him. Man, even pulling up weeds with Tyler would be fun. But could he have fun without getting entangled? Sure, a voice in him said, while another warned, Fun doesn’t come free. Tyler was a siren, luring him into dangerous waters. She was every kind of beautiful, but he had to keep his head. The back of his neck grew damp as the push and pull of his conflicting desires knotted his stomach.
“Thanks, but I’ll take a rain check on that,” he said.
“Okay.” A slight frown creased her forehead. Did she seem a little disappointed? “Guess I’d better be going. My ride will be here any moment.”
“How late will you be?” The words left his mouth before he knew it.
A teasing smile replaced her frown. “Are you giving me a curfew?”
Damn runaway mouth. “Do you need one?”
“Don’t worry. I promised Chloe I’d be home by midnight or I’d turn into a pumpkin.” She paused, her smile fading. “And I keep my promises to Chloe. I’ll be home on time, and I won’t have more than a couple of drinks. Scout’s honor,” she added, all earnestness.
Guilt ballooned in him. She didn’t need to justify herself to him. She was a hard-working single mother, and she deserved to have a night out once in a while.
“I’m sure Chloe is in good hands,” he said. “You go out and enjoy yourself.”
“Thanks. Good night.”
Luke stood on his porch and watched her saunter off. He sighed. That skimpy skirt and leather boots would be lingering in his mind all night long.
Chapter Five
Tyler muttered a curse as her saw blade broke in the middle of an intricate cut. Sighing, she removed the damaged blade from the saw frame. It was her own fault; she hadn’t been concentrating on the task. Freeing the square of sterling silver she’d been piercing, she examined her progress and sighed again. She wasn’t making much headway with her jewelry, not after the late night she’d had.
The door to her workshop flew open and Chloe marched in, scowling, red cheeks puffed out. “I need you!”
Tyler pushed a strand of hair back from her aching temple. “What is it, baby?” Her daughter had taken off her dress and was clothed in only her underwear. Her hair was a riot of tangles, and her cheeks were smeared with dirt. “Where are your clothes?”
“Don’t want no clothes. I want you to read me a story.”
Tyler cast a glance at her workbench, where several pieces of sheet metal were waiting to be saw pierced. “I’m busy now. I’ll read you a story later.”
“No!” Chloe stamped her foot. “Now.”
Irritation spurted up in Tyler. “I told you I’d be busy this afternoon,” she said sternly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t play with you now.”
Two fierce blue eyes glared at her. “You’re a bad mumma. I don’t like you.”
Tyler gasped, the hurt forcing her to her feet. “How can you say that?”
Her daughter blinked at her sharp tone, then, bursting into tears, she fled from the workshop. Nausea rushed over Tyler. She dropped the saw frame and ran after her daughter. The living room looked like it had been hit by a tornado of all Chloe’s possessions. Tripping over the clutter, Tyler poked her head behind couches and under tables, but her daughter was nowhere to be found.
Her heart clenched tighter. “Chloe!”
She ran into Chloe’s bedroom, where she spotted her curled up in bed, facing the wall. Relieved and angry with herself, Tyler bent and placed a hand on her daughter’s heaving back. “I’m sorry, darling. I didn’t mean to snap at you.”
“Y-you don’t l-love me,” Chloe hiccupped through her tears.
Tyler’s chest ached even more. “That’s not true. You’re my whole life, baby.”
Chloe burst into fresh sobs, her wails bouncing off the thin walls. Tyler tried to gather her up, but the girl burrowed deeper into her pillows and cried even louder. Just then a loud knock sounded at the front door. Tyler glanced at her daughter, but Chloe was still in the throes of her tantrum and probably needed to be alone for a while.
“I’m just going to answer the door, and I’ll be right back, okay?” She kissed her daughter’s tangled mess of hair, then rose to open the front door.
As soon as she did, she wished she hadn’t. A nosy neighbor she could have dealt with, but the woman who stood on her threshold was far more formidable.
Gretchen Stafford’s cold eyes swept over Tyler, her calculating gaze absorbing every detail of her disheveled appearance. “Hello, Tyler.” She gave a brisk nod. “I was in the area, so I thought I’d pop by.”
Gretchen, the mother of Tyler’s ex-boyfriend, was always immaculately turned out. Today she wore a tailored, dove-gray silk dress with matching shoes and bag and a single strand of pearls. In contrast, Tyler’s sundress was old and sloppy, she was barefoot, and she hadn’t brushed her hair.
Tyler hitched up the strap of her dress. “Gretchen, hi. You should have called first. I might have been out.” If she had known Gretchen was in town, she would have made darn sure to be out.
Gretchen’s thin lips, outlined in pale pink lipstick, quirked. “Oh, I wanted to surprise you.” She stepped forward, a look of urgency on her face. “What’s all that crying? Is that Chloe? What’s happened to my granddaughter?”
“Nothing’s happened—”
Gretchen brushed her aside and stalked into the house. “Chloe!” Her strident voice cut through the wailing. “Where are you, precious? It’s your grandmother.”
Tyler opened her mouth to protest, but at the same time, the bawling stopped. Bare feet pattered on the floorboards, and Chloe appeared, still seminaked, her face red and wet. She blinked uncertainly at Gretchen. “Grammy?”
The older woman set down the large carrier bag she’d been holding and kneeled in front of the child. “Yes, it’s me, darling.
I came to visit you. Oh, just look at you,” she tut-tutted, shooting a censorious glance over her shoulder at Tyler. “What a state you’re in.”
Tyler opened and closed her fists, outraged and helpless. It had always surprised and dismayed her that her daughter should be drawn to a battle-ax like her grandmother, but for some reason Chloe wasn’t put off by Gretchen’s abrasive nature. Maybe because Gretchen reserved all her harshness for Tyler, the woman she blamed for ruining her son’s life.
“Why were you crying?” Gretchen asked the child.
Chloe’s lower lip jutted out. “Mumma won’t read me a story.”
“That’s a shame.” Gretchen cupped her hands around Chloe’s face. “But I’m here now. I’ll read you a story. As many as you like. And look—see what I brought just for you.” She drew out a big box from the carrier bag. “Do you like it?”
Chloe’s eyes widened at the sight of the large porcelain doll dressed in a glittering ball gown. “Is that for me?” she whispered, tentatively reaching for the doll.
“Of course it is.” Rising to her feet, Gretchen held onto Chloe’s hand. “Come on, show me to your room, and maybe we can find something decent for you to wear.” Without looking at Tyler or asking permission, the woman led Chloe out of the living room.
Alone, Tyler became aware of the pain in her palms where her fingernails were digging in. She forced her fingers to stretch out, but the stinging didn’t fade. As she picked up one of Chloe’s crumpled T-shirts, a wave of despondency hit her. What was the point in trying to clean up this mess? Gretchen had already seen it and condemned her. Tossing the grubby T-shirt aside, she slumped onto the couch and waited for Gretchen’s return.
Twenty minutes later, Gretchen and Chloe walked back to the living room. The whole time Tyler had sagged on the couch, the sounds of the two chatting together had been too audible to ignore. She’d listened and ground her teeth. Now, she sat up as her daughter ran to her. Chloe wore her best dress, her hair was tidy, and her face was shiny clean.
“Mumma!” Beaming with excitement, she patted Tyler’s arm urgently. “Grammy’s taking me to see her ponies.”
