One in a Million

by Susan Mallery

  “Sure.” He gave her a sad, understanding smile, making no move to touch her. “You know where to find me.”

  The tension in Kenzie’s apartment was so crushing that she expected light fixtures to start shattering at random. Mick, if you don’t call, I will hunt you down and beat you to death with your own guitar. Or, at the very least, give him a really strongly worded piece of her mind.

  Despite being tired, she’d dutifully crossed town to pick up the kids at Ann’s that morning. On the way home, she’d shared with them the good news that their dad was nearby and wanted to spend some time with them. Lunchtime had passed hours ago, and still no word from her ex.

  After pushing away an uneaten sandwich and declaring himself not hungry, Drew had gone to his room, punctuating his retreat with a slammed door. It was the kind of behavior Kenzie would normally reprimand. Today, she had neither the heart to chide him nor the energy. Leslie, predictably, had curled up on the couch and sought escape in a book. Kenzie couldn’t help noticing her daughter hadn’t turned a page in a long time.

  Kenzie sat down and scooped her daughter’s feet into her lap. It seemed only yesterday Kenzie had been playing “This Little Piggy” with tiny baby feet. Now Leslie painted her toes neon colors and wore shoes only a few sizes smaller than her mom. “You want to talk about it?”

  “My book? Sure. It’s a mystery,” Leslie began. “There’s this girl named Turtle who—”

  “I meant about your dad,” Kenzie clarified, even though she was pretty sure her daughter already knew that. “You must be disappointed.”

  Leslie affected a nonchalant shrug. “Not really.”

  “This is partly my fault,” Kenzie said, second-guessing her selfish impulse to spend last night with JT. “Your dad came by last night, but you were already at Aunt Ann’s. I should’ve—”

  “We had fun there,” Leslie interrupted. “We made cookies and I got to help give Abby a bath. It’s way easier at their house than it was here because there’s more space. And Uncle Forrest showed us a computer game that uses math. It’s kind of hard, but Drew figured it out better than I did.”

  Kenzie’s heart squeezed with gratitude, even as her eyes filled with tears. She was supposed to be comforting her daughter, yet, mature beyond her nine years, Leslie had reversed their roles. “Thank you, honey.”

  “You’re a good parent,” Leslie said fiercely. She hugged her mom, but a moment later pulled away, looking sheepish. “I mean, at least you didn’t give us goofy names like Turtle or anything.”

  Kenzie ruffled the girl’s hair. “Well, I was thinking of Salamander for you, but changed my mind at the last minute.”

  Chuckling, Leslie returned to her book. One down. Now, to deal with the other....

  Armed with napkins and a handful of Drew’s favorite cookies, Kenzie knocked on his door. “Can I come in?”

  “’Kay.”

  It was worse than she’d anticipated. He wasn’t even angrily crashing toy cars into each other or blowing something up via handheld video game. He was merely lying on his bed, scowling at the ceiling.

  “I brought you some chocolate chip cookies,” she said coaxingly.

  “You never let us eat dessert if we don’t eat nutritious food first.”

  “Well, today I’m making an exception.”

  “Because of Dad,” he said flatly.

  “Because you’re my son and I love you and I thought you could use a little cheering up.” When he didn’t reach for the cookies she was offering, she placed them on the nightstand and sat next to him. “Your dad really wanted to see you last night.”

  “Sure he did.”

  “Did you understand when I was explaining about his changing jobs? He’s trying a different path that will hopefully allow more time for you and Leslie. Maybe he got busy with one of his clients today and plans to call us later.”

  Drew glared. “So these clients are more important than us?”

  “Of course not!” Kenzie stifled further thoughts of homicide and tried to get her foot out of her mouth. “It’s just that—”

  Mercifully, she was interrupted by the ringing phone. She jumped off the bed. “I’ll bet that’s him now!”

  “Yippee,” her son intoned.

  By the time Kenzie returned to the living room, Leslie had already answered. Her daughter glanced up with wide eyes. “It’s Dad!” She said it with the same wonder as if she’d just discovered Santa Claus setting out presents Christmas morning.

  “That’s wonderful, honey.” Kenzie held out her hand. “Do you mind if I speak to him for a minute?”

  Leslie nodded. “Mom wants to talk to you.... Okay, see you soon!” She hopped off the sofa, passing the phone over before running down the hall to share the news with Drew.

  “Mick.” Kenzie bit down all greetings along the lines of what the hell took you so long and kept her tone even. “I’m glad you got a chance to call. I have to confess, I thought we would hear from you earlier in the day.”

  “Well, I wanted to make sure I wasn’t disrupting anyone’s plans,” he said caustically.

  Be the bigger person, Kenzie. “Everyone’s here now, no set plans to speak of. Do you maybe want to bring over those presents you mentioned, join us for dinner?”

  “Actually, I thought I might take my kids out for supper, if you don’t object. Dinner and a movie with their old man?”

  “Depending on the movie you had in mind, that sounds great.” She paused, softening. “I really do want you to have quality time with the kids. Last night was unfortunate timing.”

  “I appreciate that, Mackenzie. Why don’t you ask the kids what films they’re interested in seeing, and I’ll be there in, say, half an hour?”

  It took fifty-five minutes, but considering Atlanta traffic, he could be forgiven the brief delay. Rather, Kenzie could forgive it. Leslie, who’d read three chapters while waiting for her dad, didn’t seem to notice. Drew, on the other hand, practically met his father at the door with a stopwatch.

  Mick froze at the sight of his son. “Look at you! Lord, you’ve grown. Look a lot like I did at your age.”

  “I’m nothing like you.”

  Startled, Mick glanced toward Kenzie. Drew had always worshipped his father. Kenzie had tried once last spring to explain to Mick their son’s growing anger, his misery that his father missed his sporting events.

  “Tell him his soccer picture’s in my wallet,” Mick had said. “In spirit, I’m at all his games.”

  Nine-year-old boys could give a collective rat’s ass about “spirit.”

  Leslie began chatting about a current movie that was based on a book her teacher had just started reading to them. “We should see that one! It’s a cool story. Drew, I think you’d like it.”

  He hitched a shoulder. “Don’t care what we see.”

  Mick looked baffled but didn’t comment on the boy’s attitude. Kenzie tried to figure out a way to pull her son aside tactfully. She understood his anger, but she’d rather he enjoy his father’s company today than regret the lost opportunity later. In the end, though, she couldn’t think of anything to say that wouldn’t put him in an even more belligerent mood. Perhaps this was simply something father and son would have to work out for themselves.

  Normally she welcomed periods of kid-free quiet; once they were gone, the silence seemed oppressive. Following her daughter’s lead, Kenzie picked up a novel she’d started weeks ago, but after rereading the same paragraph three times because she kept losing her place, she conceded defeat. Then she flipped through the television channels, but Saturday-afternoon programming wasn’t exactly riveting. Restless and craving comfort, she eyed the plate of chocolate chip cookies on the kitchen counter.

  Don’t even think about it, they’ll go straight to your hips. May
be what she should do was use the free time to exercise. In her defense, she had burned plenty of calories last night.

  Heat flooded her face as she recalled the vivid details, details that conjured longing. It had been mere hours since she’d left JT, and already she missed him. Her gaze darted across the kitchen again, this time landing on the mug she’d hand washed. The mug she’d promised to return.

  She grabbed the cup and exited her apartment before she could stop herself, not even pausing to put on shoes. Barefoot, she padded across the hall and knocked once on his door.

  He opened it a moment later, his immediate surprise giving way to a pleased smile. “Kenzie.”

  “I, uh, wanted to give this back.” She held up the mug, feeling foolish.

  He eyed her with affectionate cynicism. “That the only reason you’re here?”

  “Well, I…”

  “Because it’s one of a set of six, and I live alone. I do dishes enough that I don’t foresee a shortage.”

  “Hey, I’m doing the polite thing. Besides, I live with kids. If I don’t return it ASAP, you run the risk that it could get taken out by a baseball thrown indoors.”

  He glanced past her at the closed door of her own apartment. “Where are the kids now?”

  “With their father.” She slumped, unable to contain her earlier worry. If today’s outing was a disaster, would Mick be even more reluctant to get involved in the children’s lives? She didn’t want Drew blaming himself for that down the road.

  JT searched her gaze. “Why don’t you come on in?”

  “I can’t stay.” She wasn’t sure why she put up the token resistance. After all, she easily could stay for the next three or four hours. It beat being at loose ends in an empty apartment, she thought as she followed him.

  In the kitchen, he pulled her into his arms. “You looked like you could use a hug.”

  She cuddled closer, grateful for his perceptiveness. “I wonder if I’m doing a good job. There aren’t enough concrete right and wrongs. Most days I just hope I’m faking it enough to fool everyone.”

  “I can’t claim to be an expert, but from this observer’s point of view, you’re doing a wonderful job. The fact that you’re doubting yourself because you want to do what’s best for them just shows what a caring mother you are.”

  That earned him a kiss. How could it not, when he held her and said what she most needed to hear? But as he kissed her back, her feelings of gratitude quickly flamed into something more carnal.

  When he fumbled for the buttons on her blouse, she said, “This isn’t why I came over.”

  He rubbed a thumb over the tight peak of one breast. “Do you want to stop?”

  She shuddered. “Hell, no.”

  “I am so glad you said that.”

  He scooped her up into his arms, making her feel tiny and deliciously feminine, and carried her back to his room. Last night, he’d stroked and kissed most of her, but that had been under the cover of darkness. Lying naked before him in the stark light of day was a new vulnerability, a new intimacy she hadn’t intended, bringing them even closer. The first two times they’d made love, they’d been learning each other’s bodies and desires. JT was a quick learner. He touched her now as if he were an expert on her every erogenous zone, knowing just how far she could tolerate his erotic teasing.

  When he slid inside her, all her muscles clenched, trying to bring him even closer, hold him even tighter. As the pressure built, she moved more frantically, the ripples of pleasure becoming a crashing tsunami. She heard herself call out his name. He echoed her cry with an incoherent shout as he thrust home.

  For long peaceful moments, neither of them moved—Kenzie wasn’t sure she could if she wanted to. But then he shifted, rolling off her, though his gaze was still locked with hers.

  “Kenzie. I…” He glanced down, then straightened suddenly, going pale. “Damn.”

  Her warm fuzzy feelings of afterglow cooled considerably. “What? JT, what is it?”

  He stood. “The condom broke.”

  Chapter 15

  People mentioned awkward mornings-after. Kenzie had never heard the protocol for a hellishly awkward “later…that same afternoon.”

  She and JT had both cleaned up and dressed, yet part of her felt painfully exposed. He looked so angry. She realized the emotion was directed at the defective prophylactic, but that didn’t quite stop her from feeling hurt.

  “I’m sure it will be okay,” she said from the middle of his living room. “I, ah, have pretty regular cycles, and it’s not the right time.”

  He stood at the same window where they’d cuddled that morning, seeming an entirely different man than the one who’d brought her coffee. “I don’t ever want to get a woman pregnant. I’m not sure I could live through that again. I know—rationally, I know—that thousands of women have healthy babies every day. But Holly didn’t. I killed her.”

  “JT, no.” Kenzie was horrified by the naked blame in his tone. While fatal labor complications had become mercifully rare, they occasionally happened. “What happened to her was a tragedy, but no one’s fault.”

  “That’s what the doctors said, too.” Still not looking at her, he shivered. “I can’t go through any of that again. Not just the labor or the pregnancy but all of it. Falling in l—” His voice broke.

  Human compassion would have been enough to motivate Kenzie toward him even if she barely knew him. Now that she was familiar with him in the most personal of ways, seeing the pain on his face was like a knife in the stomach. She wanted so badly to embrace him and somehow absorb his suffering. Yet he moved away just as she reached him, his expression one of subtle panic.

  “I can’t. Don’t you see that, Kenzie? I’ve been letting myself grow attached to you because I thought it was safe. You’ll be gone soon. It won’t be like when Holly was ripped away. I know you’re leaving. And it’s really not the same thing, because she was my wife and I loved her. You were just going to be… I don’t know what. I’m a jackass. I persuaded myself that I wasn’t falling for you, but it’s not true. I can’t let that happen again.” He took a shaky breath. “Losing her may not have killed me, but there were plenty of days when I wished it had.”

  “You plan to never love again?” It struck Kenzie as unbearably sad, even though she’d clung to the same safety net he had—her leaving in a few weeks would help them part ways naturally, giving him little chance to complicate her and the kids’ life.

  “I was lucky enough to have those years with Holly.” His face softened as he added, “And lucky enough to have this weekend with you. That’s far more than some men ever get.”

  She opened her mouth to protest his denying himself a chance to be happy, but what could she possibly say? While she’d like to think fate would never be cruel enough to take someone away from JT again, there were no guarantees. He had so much to offer a woman, but she understood his self-protective instinct. More than she cared to.

  “If you don’t mind, until we move, I’ll still let Drew come over and paint with you. But it’s probably best if I don’t…see you. Alone, I mean.”

  “Probably,” he echoed in morose agreement.

  “Goodbye, JT.”

  He didn’t answer. When she let herself out of the apartment, he was still standing fixed in place, his posture one of dejected solitude. She told herself that he’d recover once she moved away, find a happy medium of painting and spending time with friends without getting too involved with any one person. But she knew his expression of naked loneliness would haunt her for many nights to come.

  Especially when she was lying awake and missing him, battling her own lonely heart.

  “So.” Ann handed her sister a plate of burgers fresh off the grill. They were taking them inside to stick on buns for the kids while Fo
rrest started the next round. Meanwhile, Drew and Leslie chased each other through the lush backyard. “I waited all week to hear from you in the vain hope that babysitting the kids would earn me some deets.”

  “‘Deets’?” Kenzie laughed. “You’ve been hanging around too much with my daughter.”

  “Details, woman! Spill the details about JT.”

  The plate wobbled in Kenzie’s hands, and only Ann’s reflexes kept the burgers from becoming lawn ornaments.

  “Sorry.” Kenzie bit her lip, scolding herself for her overreaction. So Ann had mentioned JT—big deal; Drew had been talking about him all week. Even though the boy had mastered the right terminology, he persisted in teasing JT about being his mental rather than his mentor. JT had given Drew an actual canvas to paint on, and the results now hung in the boy’s room.

  Even Leslie had been impressed with her brother’s efforts. “Who knew he had talents beyond soccer and creating clutter?” she’d asked, still a touch bitter that no one was helping to develop her artistic abilities.

  Ann didn’t say anything until they were inside, safely out of anyone else’s earshot. “Are you okay? I noticed you sounded tense on the phone this week, but I thought that was the weirdness of Mick being in town.”

  “No, for the kids’ sake, I’m glad Mick was here.” Although she hoped it wasn’t a case of too little, too late. He had indeed taken them to dinner and a movie, but Drew complained that the man had spent half the meal on his cell phone with newly recruited clients. “He’s supposed to come back the week we close on the new house, hang out with the kids while I take care of things.”

  Ann scowled. “You ask me, you end up taking care of way too much. I’d love to see you with a guy who could take care of you for a change.”

  “Honestly, I’m not looking for that.” Kenzie opened the refrigerator, grabbing the mustard and ketchup while Ann sliced tomatoes. “I’m okay taking care of myself. Less chance for disappointment.”